#and i didn't even think about it until a few days ago which is wild

[veltana]

Saved by the cowboy

✦ Pairing: Steve Rogers/Fem!Reader

✦ Word count: ~4,2k

✦ Rating: Explicit

✦ Warnings/tags: cowboy!Steve, kind of DBF!Steve, Steve works for your dad, implied sexual harassment (not by Steve), protective!Steve, fluff, angst, grovel, smut, oral (fem receiving), piv sex, dirty talk, unprotected sex (reader is on bc), hint of breeding kink, pet names (sugar), happy ending.

✦ Summary: You call Steve to help you get home from the company holiday party.

✦ Note: I was supposed to write four holiday ficlets based on this, but instead Steve swept in and made me write a whole fic about just him instead 🙈 sorry not sorry! Also, thanks to everyone who helped choose the Steve pic for this fic!

Please reblog and comment! Asks are always welcome! 🩵

Masterlist | AO3

When the invitation to the annual holiday party came, all your coworkers joked about how wild it would be, but you had brushed that aside. You’d seen your fair share of company get-togethers, and they were never anything special. All the stories about fistfights and cheating scandals always turned out to be exaggerated.

“Hey, newbie!” Susan had called. You had been working there for a couple of months, and the newbie nickname was starting to get old. Still, you had taken a deep breath and turned to her with a smile. “Yes?” “Are you coming to the party? You can ride with me!”

Up until about a year ago, you had been living on the other side of the country, making a name for yourself and climbing the ranks, but then your dad had a health scare, and you realized that no money in the world would be worth it if it meant losing time with your parents. So you had moved back to your small hometown to be closer to them and even help out on the ranch if needed. You had found a nice apartment and lived off your savings until an opportunity had presented itself. It didn’t pay as much as your previous job, but it didn't matter.

“That’s great, Susan, thank you!”

Right about now, as you’re hiding in a small supply closet, you wish you’d never said yes.

It turned out the company provided a free bar at the event, and it hadn’t taken long for everyone to get plastered, including Susan. You had taken it slow, only on your second glass of wine when one of your bosses had asked to see you in private.

Wanting to make a good impression, you followed him, and it wasn’t until you were alone and his grabby hands had reached for your clothes that you realized your mistake. "No, stop!" you had yelled. He had been bigger and stronger, but he was drunk, and that had been to your advantage as you had shoved him as hard as you could and ran. Down an empty hallway, you had found a supply closet and locked the door behind you. Shaking, you take a few deep breaths, trying to calm your racing heart and think about what to do next. Going home with Susan is out of the question and you're in no condition to drive yourself.

Fishing up your phone from your pocket, you scroll through your contacts, stopping at your parents, but it's late and snowing. You don’t want them driving to get you.

When you get to S you stop. Steve Rogers' name seems to jump out at you.

He started working for your father about five years ago and your dad isn’t the kind of guy who just sprinkles praise freely, so when he mentioned him over the phone and said, “That Steve fellow is a good guy,” you knew he would be something else. When you traveled home for the holidays that year he was invited to Sunday dinner. You'd thought he'd be around your dad's age and were shocked when he was much closer to you.

Later he purchased a house not far from your parents, and since he is single and lives alone your mom feels bad for him, which means that he's invited to every Sunday dinner, just like you.

And it's fine.

Except Steve is hot, charming, and nice to everyone. He and your dad get along great. Your mom adores him. But because of that, you keep your distance. No need to complicate things with your dad’s employee.

One day when you had been helping on the ranch, checking the fences with your dad he had out of the blue told you that if you ever find yourself in a situation where you need help and you can't get a hold of him or your mom, you call Steve.

So you do.

Because you usually don't call Steve he knows something is up.

“Hey, sugar, is everything okay?”

"Yeah. I mean no, my ride home is drunk. Well, everybody is plastered, and one of my bosses…" you don’t finish that sentence. "I didn't want to call my parents.”

"Send me the address, I'll be there as fast as I can."

He hangs up without a goodbye and you send him the address. After what feels like ages you get a text that he’s outside. You check the hallway before making your way towards the entrance.

As you near it, you overhear someone whispering about the hot cowboy, wondering who he is. There is a flare of jealousy in your chest at the thought of Steve being with any of them, but as soon as you see him, the feeling in you shifts to something else.

Steve stands just inside the doors, hands in the pockets of his wrangler jeans, with boots, cowboy hat, and his fur-lined jacket that looks so good on him. Hurryingly you collect your coat and go to him.

"Thank you," you whisper as you stop in front of him, shrugging the jacket on. His face is serious, scanning you for injuries, and then he looks up over your head at the crowd behind you. In one smooth motion, he takes off his cowboy hat, runs his fingers through his hair, and places it on top of your head before looking down at you again.

His blue eyes which usually hold softness and mirth are hard, but you know it's not directed at you.

"Ready to go, sugar?" he asks with that perfect voice that makes you hot on a good day. Now, with his hat on your head, and all the implications that come with that, you're ready to melt.

“Yes, Steve,” you nod, hoping you sound normal. He opens the door for you and you don't turn around to say goodbye to any of your co-workers.

His big white truck is parked just outside and you quickly jump in. The cab carries Steve’s scent, wrapping you in a sense of safety. It's like home, but different.

The engine rumbles to life, and the building disappears behind you. He’s driven you home from Sunday dinners a few times when your mom insisted you share a bottle of wine with her. He graciously offered his help then, so there’s no need to give him directions now.

“Are you okay?” he asks and shoots you a look, brow creased in concern. You hum a yes in response and then sigh, "I just didn't want to worry mom and dad." He nods, “I understand.” “Sorry if I ruined your Friday night plans.” “Don’t worry, sugar, there was nothing exciting happening at my end.”

You’ve never been inside Steve’s house but you imagine it’s cozy. He seems like a man who enjoys comfort, despite the way of life he’s chosen, and even if you wouldn’t describe him as a softie, he’s always nice and that’s more than can be said about other cowboys that your dad employs. Maybe that’s why your dad appreciates Steve. He’s hard-working, but never an asshole.

During the rest of the drive you talk aimlessly about the weather and the ranch while the radio plays in the background. Outside your apartment complex, he effortlessly maneuvers his big truck on the small streets and parks it.

You turn to him, "I can’t thank you enough for this.” "Anytime, sugar.”

As you get out, he does the same, rounding the truck. "I'm fine from here," you tell him, not wanting to bother him further. "Absolutely, but my mom raised me right, so I'm following you to the door." "Oh, okay," you smile and when you turn around you feel the light weight of a hand at the low of your back guiding you forward.

At your door, you turn to thank him once again, but Steve asks instead, "Are you sure you're okay? You sounded upset on the phone." "Yeah," you answer. Honestly, you haven’t thought one second of your boss since Steve showed up. His calm, caring presence erases every unease, making you feel safe. The two of you stand in the corridor and look at each other, and in a moment of courage, you kiss his stubbled cheek. "But thank you again for coming to get me," you tell him.

Steve releases a breath and looks at you with lidded eyes. His hand comes up to touch where your lips just were and then he slowly reaches for you. Your eyes widen as Steve’s rough hands caress your cheek. “I’ll always come, if you need me, I’ll be there,” he promises, voice low and sincere.

You swallow hard before catching Steve’s hand with your own and pressing it against your cheek with a sigh, letting your eyes flutter close for a second. You can’t have him, but if this is all the touch you’re ever going to experience from Steve, you’re taking advantage of it. You can blame it on the wine.

“Sugar,” he rasps and you open your eyes again, letting go and ready to let this be a cherished memory. You’re stopped short by Steve’s hand sliding back to cup your neck. His fingers against your bare skin send tingles down your spine that make heat pool in your belly. "Steve," you answer.

He leans a little closer but hesitates. "You had a rough evening," he says. “But you fixed it,” you point out. “I don’t want to take advantage of you,” he leans even closer. "You won’t," you tell him, confident in your answer, gripping his jacket.

His other arm slides around your waist, pulling you close and pressing you against him. The firm strength of him feels so perfect that a soft moan escapes you. In response he lets out a groan, softly brushing his lips against yours, making more tingling sensations shoot throughout your body.

Not wanting to wait any longer you close the small distance and finally kiss him. It’s soft and chaste at first but with an edge of desperation that becomes prominent as Steve deepens the kiss, holding you even harder. Likewise, you wrap your arms around his waist, wordlessly telling him how much you want him.

The two of you jerk apart when a loud noise sounds somewhere else in the building. Without a word, you let go of Steve to reach behind you and open the door to your apartment. For a second his eyes leave yours to look at the invitation. He doesn’t give you a vocal answer, he just goes back to your lips and starts moving you backward.

Inside, he removes his cowboy hat from your head, placing it on the side table before starting to pull at your clothes and as you guide him to your bedroom, you make his clothes come off too.

Together you fall onto the bed in just your underwear. Steve's body is a testament to his demanding job, soft and hard in all the right places and warm against you. His hands never still, they caress and explore you as if he might never get the chance again. When he pulls back, his hair is wild from you running your fingers through it.

“Never thought I would be here.” He kisses your jaw and down the column of your throat. The touch of his hands makes goosebumps burst out over your body. “Never thought you’d have me in your bed,” he continues as he kisses the top of your breasts. “Someone like you, beautiful and sophisticated.” He hooks a finger in your bra and pulls down. “Being with someone rough and dirty like me.”

“You’re not dirty,” you answer breathlessly as his mouth closes over your nipple.

Steve moans, just as you do, arching up against him. He spends ample time on both your breasts, sucking and licking, making you feel crazy with how much you need him. "I’ve dreamt of tasting you, sugar, but I want more than your tits," he admits. “Yes!” you tell him and he shimmies down your body, pressing kisses to your skin and pulling off your panties before settling in between your legs, parting your folds reverently with his thumbs.

“Look at that pretty fucking pussy,” he murmurs before descending on you.

Steve eats you as if you're the last meal on earth, savoring every taste but at the same time wanting to devour you as quickly as possible. His beard scratches the inside of your thighs and your mound, his face buried deep as he pierces you with his tongue, lapping at your channel before going back to your clit, sucking it into his mouth. Quickly, you're a quivering mess, trying your best not to buck up against Steve's mouth, to be present and savor the experience.

The pleasure envelopes you, making you ache in the best way before the heat rushes to your core at Steve's steady ministrations.

"I'm gonna come!" you tell him, hands fisting the sheets. His only response is a deep hum. Your legs close around his head as you howl his name.

As you come down, and release him from the prison of your thighs he chuckles, before giving your clit one last kiss. Then his lips travel up your body again, stopping to play with your nipples one more time before finding your mouth. Despite your near comatose state, you respond to his kiss, not caring that he tastes of you.

"Please tell me you have a condom," he says against your lips. You feel the hard cock brush your stomach, still in his boxers. As he sits back you admire how it tents the fabric and the wet spot at the front.

But when you shake your head, there is such a pain in his face you're scared he's having a heart attack or something. Quickly you say, "I'm on birth control!" That lights a different fire in Steve's eyes.

"Oh, sugar," he smiles wickedly. Your body is still thrumming from the orgasm but you in no way feel sated. The look of him on your bed brings back all the fantasies you've hidden deeply inside the recesses of your mind, telling yourself that it's no use to fantasize about something that will never happen.

“I got tested right before I moved and I haven't been with anyone since,” you continue. Before you can ask Steve says, “Well, it's not like there's a flock of buckle bunnies up at the ranch to choose from, so it's been a while. Hopefully, I still know how to.”

You raise yourself on your elbows, tilting your head to the side. “If the previous performance is anything to go by I think we'll be good.”

Steve moves to chuck off his underwear, then he's back on top of you again, and you give him your mouth. Hungry is the only way to describe the way he kisses, and when he breaks away you whine, but then you realize it's because he's guiding his dick into you.

“I need to see it,” he rumbles. “I need to see your cunt swallow my cock.”

You part your legs more to give his hips room. You want to watch too but as his tip pushes inside it becomes too much to keep your eyes open. Your arms slide out and you hit the bed, consumed by the feel of him, neverending pleasure. He's thick and long and fills you perfectly. Your insides spasm, wanting more.

"Steve," you whine and wrap your legs around his hips, keeping him close as you move to try and take him deeper. "That's right. Let me hear that sweet voice of yours," he says, stilling all movements.

"Please, Steve, I need it! I need you to fill me up with your cum!" "Oh, sugar, I'm not gonna keep you waiting," he answers and moves. Slowly at first, to let the both of you get used to it. It's impossible to keep in any noise when he thrusts into you. For a second you feel silly, moaning as if you're in some kind of porno, but at the same time, you want Steve to know how fucking good his dick is.

And Steve isn't any better, every time his hips hit your skin he punctuates it with a moan of his own, a deep rumble that only excites you more.

On those forbidden nights, when you allowed yourself to dream of Steve, one thing always came to the front of your mind. “Steve, can I ride you?" you ask breathlessly. “Fuck, yeah,” he answers and in one smooth motion he wraps his arms around your body and rolls you over. It's a wonder you don't fall off the bed.

You lean forward, capturing his face between your hands, kissing him as you move against him. "Take what you need, sugar. Ride your cowboy,” Steve growls into your mouth.

He grabs your ass and fucks up into you while you grind down on him. He's so deep it's driving you insane. Panting you grab the headboard, finding leverage to push your body hard into his thrusts.

“You're fucking divine,” Steve drawls, his grip hardens, lifting you up and slamming you down. “I want you on top of me every day. Ride my dick, or my face, whatever you want, just let me have you!”

At the same time, your clit is rubbing deliciously against him, making the second orgasm build. “Fuck, you're holding my dick so tight, like your pussy doesn't want to let me go.” All you answer with is a strangled mewl, too busy chasing your high.

“Are you gonna be a good girl and come on my dick? And then let me fill you up with my cum, sugar? Is that what gets you off, riding your cowboy until he bursts inside of you?

Steve's words spur you on, doubling your efforts, angling your hips until his dick presses into your g-spot and your clit grinds against his pelvis. You feel him pulsing, knowing he's about to come in you is so hot.

“I'm gonna come!” you gasp. “Yeah, me too, sugar!”

With a cry of ecstasy, the climax washes over your skin, sending convulsions through your muscles. You feel every pulse of Steve's own orgasm and hear him call your name.

You collapse on his chest, both of you panting. Steve hugs you close, his hands rubbing along your back as his dick softens and the cum starts to leak out, but you could care less. Being in Steve's arms feels right. Hearing his beating heart, the scent of sex and sweat in the air, knowing it's from the both of you.

After a while, he speaks, but it's not the words you'd expect. “Fuck, sugar, I promised myself this would never happen. I know your dad likes me and all but I don't think he'd take too kindly to me fucking his daughter.”

The happy high in you bursts into sour bubbles, and the pink, golden afterglow is replaced by the harsh reality.

“What do you mean?” you frown as you sit up. Suddenly everything feels sticky, cold, and gross. “You're my boss’, my friend's, daughter. I can't have you even if I wanted to.”

A lump forms in your throat and you try to clear it before asking, “What are you saying?” “It can't happen again.” “Are you saying this was a mistake?” “Yes, sugar, but it was the best mistake of my life.” “Yeah, okay, well…” you get off him and take the cover to wrap around you. The cum leaks down your legs as you say, “You saw me to the door, and I'm fine, thank you for coming to get me.” “Sugar, please, you understand don't you?” Steve stands up, reaching for you but you shrug his hands away. “You know the way out, I need to shower.”

Without looking back you hurry to the bathroom, listening to Steve gather his things and the sound of the door shutting behind him. You stand even longer looking at the shower running, not wanting to wash away the evidence of Steve's visit, but finally, you do.

You manage to avoid Sunday dinner by claiming you're not feeling well. Your mom offers to drop off some food, but you assure her she doesn't need to. If she shows up and asks how you're feeling you're scared everything is just gonna come blurting out. Before hanging up, she adds, "Dad and Steve hope you feel better soon!"

With effort, you respond, "Yeah, tell them I said thanks."

The following week, you feel like you can't excuse yourself and you just hope Steve won’t be there for some reason.

As you park your car at the house you don't see his truck anywhere, easing the anxiety that sits in your stomach.

At the beginning of December, your mom has decked out the house and yard with holiday decorations. It lightens up the otherwise dark ranch that's far away from any streetlights.

“Oh honey, great to see you!” Your mom greets you at the door with a hug, your dad right behind her. After saying hello and getting out of your clothes, your mom is quick to put you to work. “Can you do me a favor? I left the dessert to cool in the sunroom, can you please get it for me?”

Growing up, the sunroom was one of your favorite places. You have great memories of sitting in the plush reading chair after the sun has set during the summer months, the windows open, and listening to the sound of the animals out in the field. Then, after your dad installed a fireplace, you loved to curl up with your hot cocoa and listen to the crackling of the flames while it slowly heated the space. Just like the rest of the house and yard, it's decorated to perfection, soft lights illuminating the space and making it a magical place.

What catches you off guard are the flower petals scattered over the floor, and in the middle of the floor is Steve on both his knees.

No dessert in sight, if you don't count the cowboy on the ground.

For a short moment, you wonder if your parents knew about this, but then you hear the door shut behind you and that answers it. The room is chilly, but your blood is rushing hot in your veins. You're embarrassed and mad and to your utter disappointment, hopeful for what he has to say.

“Steve?” you ask, crossing your arms, feigning annoyance. “Sugar, I'm here, on my knees to ask for your forgiveness and to please hear me out.” His blue eyes are a weakness of yours but you steal yourself to not fall for the softness in them.

“I assume you told them what happened?” you nod in the direction you came from. Steve looks uncomfortable, even blushing. “Well, I didn't give them any details, but I told them we kissed and that I messed up. Thought your dad was gonna murder me first. He thought I got you pregnant, so I think they figured it out anyway.” “Pregnant?!” you exclaim. It all feels overwhelming, and you bury your face in your hands, wishing you could disappear through the floor.

Then warm rough hands clasp yours, pulling them away carefully. “I also told them that I'm in love with their daughter and if she gives me another chance, I'll prove to her every day how much she means to me.” Steve's voice is soft and earnest; it makes tears burn at the back of your eyes.

You want to be mad, but you haven't been able to stop thinking about his stupid face since he left. The fucker also left his cowboy hat behind, and every time you looked at it you remembered how he placed it on your head the night he came to your rescue. You could have brought it with you tonight and left it on the porch for your parents to find. But you didn't. Secretly you hoped that Steve would have to come by your place to collect it.

But even after acting like an asshole, you're still very much in love with Steve Rogers.

“Yeah, fine,” you say nonchalantly and look away, trying to hide how happy you feel. A finger on your chin turns your head back towards him. “Fine, sugar? Just fine?”

Forcing your stone-faced expression to stay in place you say, “For now, it's fine. Don't think some flower petals, kneeling, and sweet words are gonna make me forgive you just like that.” “Every day, sugar, I'll work my ass off until you do.” You glance at him, taking in the rugged handsomeness of the man before you, and you just can't resist. Leaning in, you kiss his cheek, reminiscent of what caused this whole thing in the first place. But Steve isn't satisfied. He gathers you up and presses his lips to yours. If you said you hadn't missed the feel of his kiss, you'd be lying. So you return it, weaving your arms around his neck and then your legs around his waist as he lifts you from the ground into his strong arms.

“I don't think mom would take too kindly to us fucking in here,” you tell him when you pull away. “No, but after dinner you're coming to my place and staying the night.” “Bossy…” you joke. “I didn't mean it like that, sugar, I'm not gonna force you to do anything you don't-” You interrupt him with a kiss. “Steve, calm down, I was joking, it's fine.” “Fine? “Fine!”

And everything was.

[cyberrose2001]

Under Pressure

MTMTE Rodimus x Reader

GRAHH SURPRISE!!!!

Relic and I have been... discussing... very hard about an ask they got a couple days ago so I wrote this eheh (THANK YOU FOR DISCUSSING THIS WITH ME AND LETTING ME WRITE THIS ILY)

Also please yell at me if I forgot any warnings!

Loosely based of this ask over on @callsign-relic's blog

Warnings: Human reader, Giant/Tiny, Dub-Con(?), Nocturnal emission, Crack fic(?)

Word count: 1,887

18+ ONLY MINORS DNI

Rodimus denies it every time, but he's a heavy sleeper. He snores like a congested rhino; he constantly sets twelve alarms that only barely stir him from his slumber. Despite being captain of the ship, his sleep schedule is far from tip-top shape.

And no, you're not a stalker. You're just Rodimus' observant little 'pet' human, always there, with a California king on his bedside dresser. Yeah, you're treated like royalty by an incredibly hard-to-deny hot alien robot.

So, as the ship ventured further into deep space and the nights got colder, you whined and begged to stay with him.

Rodimus was very hesitant to let you join him in the berth. As much as he cared about you and would kill an army for you, he didn't want to accidentally kill you, which was very much a possibility in any scenario on this ship. But he caved. You had mastered the sad, wet cat look, and Rodimus had the willpower of a rock.

Relishing in victory, you're curled up comfortably against Rodimus' lower plating for the third consecutive night in a row, warmed by the large servo of a sleeping giant. The entire palm of his hand covers your back in subconscious protection, and every so often, you feel a twitch of one digit. It's tranquility and a rare comfort, the touch of another you haven't felt since being on earth.

Until he rolls over.

Rodimus, choking on his snores, flips over onto his stomach and nearly tosses you off the berth if not for the grip he has on you. Despite almost winding you and making an audible 'Oof' sound, he doesn't wake up, his unconscious body assuming another comfortable position.

It takes you a few moments to register what the fuck just happened, but you realise that you're now underneath Rodimus. Almost his entire body weight is now pressed against you and pins you to the berth.

Oh god, you think to yourself.

This is less than ideal; this was not supposed to happen. How the hell are you, a tiny ass human, supposed to get out from under him? You probably shouldn't even be alive right now with how restricted your breathing is, not to mention how hard he flopped on top of you. But thankfully, with how Rodimus' legs have fallen into position, it leaves you with just enough room for your chest to rise and fall.

"God." You whine, muffled as your cheeks squish against his abdominal plating.

Your mind runs wild as you try to think of a way out. Maybe he'll just roll over again soon? God, you hope so; you can handle only so much weight, and Rodimus feels like he could hold down a cargo ship. Probably because he can.

But until then, however long that may be, you need to try something at least.

"Rodimus?" You try to wiggle but to no avail. He has you pinned pinned, and you use what little breath you have to yell out to him, "Hello? Are you awake or what?"

A loud, seemingly exaggerated snore replies to you. He's still deep in recharge, ruining any chance you have of waking him up yourself. You try to use your nails to scratch the surface of his frame, hoping it would tickle him or something, but that doesn't work either.

"Great." You roll your eyes, only you would ever end up in this type of situation. If only you had listened to Rodimus when he first said no, then you wouldn't be currently experiencing a near death experi-

"Y/n..." Rodimus' hoarse voice crackles above you, sending vibrations through your bones.

"Oh, thank god," You sigh in relief. You attempt to wiggle around some more, hoping to get his attention this time, "Listen, can you get off me now? This kinda hur-"

You squeak softly in pain as his sharp pelvis presses against you, and you hear your name again. This time, though, the tone of his voice came out as a whine, like a soft plea.

Because of where you were positioned before you became a pea under a princess' tower of mattresses, Rodimus' lower panels rested right against your stomach. This means you can feel his panels start to bulge slightly.

Oh no, you think to yourself bleakly once again. You're not sure how similar Cybertronian anatomy is to humans, apart from a crude explanation by an engex drunk Swerve. Still, it doesn't take a genius to figure out that you're feeling him getting hard. Putting two-and-two together using two out of the five senses, you've realised that Rodimus is nearly boner deep in a wet dream.

And not to assume, but you're thinking that the star of the show is you.

It's also the wrong time to cackle to yourself about getting crushed by your crush.

You might have some issues to work out after with Rung.

"Oh fuck," You reasonably panic, trying to push against his heavy frame weakly with your pinned arms, "Oh fuck fuck fuck fuck-"

You start to thrash against Rodimus when your arms fail, your tiny body rubbing up against him. This doesn't help at all, you've come to realise but actually digs you in a deeper hole as he begins to rock his pelvis into you.

Rodimus moans your name again as he sleepily grinds against you. Whatever he's dreaming of, it must be an insanely hot pornographic fantasy of you. The bulge grows bigger, pining you down further into the berth. He shutters and lets out a soft groan before his plating shifts, and you feel a very thick, very hard, and very hot object slide up against you.

Oh god, it's his dick.

Swerve might not have told you all the details, but he seemed to conveniently leave out how fucking huge Cybertronian cocks are.

As if you thought this couldn't get any more debilitating, you now have the head of Rodimus' spike pressing against your face. It's as if the Alaskan bull worm had slithered up between yourself and Rodimus to give you a kiss. The behemoth of baggage has already started leaking what you would believe would be the Cybertronian equivalent to pre-cum, smearing all across your face.

At this significant turn of events, you've realised you have come to a crossroads.

Either struggle and continue to wiggle and wrangle your way out from under him, but risk pleasuring him, whether or not he could feel you squirming against him anyway with how small you are compared to it. Or, the more realistic and obtainable outcome, lie still and take it until he wakes up from an orgasm.

Who are you kidding? You don't have much of a choice at all. Both options risk you drowning in alien robot cum. It's wishful thinking as Rodimus starts to rut against your entire body again.

"Y/n..." He whimpers again, though very garbled and unintelligible. Every roll of his hips causes more pre-cum to dribble against your face and down your chest, and with each, it spreads all around in between yourself and his train-sized spike. Making an absolute mess of you.

If you weren't getting humped up against right now, you would indeed find a way to kill him for ruining your only set of pajamas.

"Rodimus-" You gag as a spurt of pre-cum falls into your mouth, "Guh- Rodimus stop-"

His work of venting increases, and so does his rutting. The comatose mech gasps and hitches his breath, oblivious to your cries and pleas for him to stop. He pushes up against you in heated desperation, fucking into your soft body like a grind pad.

"Rodimus! Wake the fuck up!" You start to heat up yourself; the increased pressure and friction of his plating will give you a fucked up version of carpet burn if he doesn't wake up. Sweat drips from your skin, adding even more lubricant to his incessant grinding.

"Wha- Oh, Primus!" Rodimus rears his drool-covered helm and cries out in equal confusion and unrestrained pleasure. He's woken up by his overload as he shoots his load up against you, flooding the minimal empty space left between you both with hot transfluid.

"Oh god-" You couldn't close your mouth in time when a spurt of transfluid hit you in the face, causing you to cough and spit it back out, only for more to splat you in the face.

Rodimus moans tiredly, shuttering violently as his spike pulses and leaks the remainder of his overload against the berth.

Or what he thought was the berth. Since when did he use a self-service mod on his spike? Especially when he shares a room with-

"Hey!" Cough, "Are you done?"

His optics slam open in horrific realisation.

"Oh no," Rodimus rolls over onto his back, his softened wet spike flopping against his abdominal plating, "Oh no, no, no..."

He looks down where he once lay, and his face plates flush a bright blue. Laying in a puddle of his transfluids was you, his little human, sopping wet with a highly unimpressed look on your tiny face.

"Oh Primus, Y/n," Rodimus scoops you up in his servos, gently tossing you from hand to hand as he wrings them off his transfluids, "I am so sorry, I- frag what was I thinking!" Rodimus babbles and holds you to his face, "Are you okay? God, I'm so stupid-"

"Ughh," You lay limply in his palm, exhausted and out of breath, "After that... I don't know anymore."

Rodimus hides his blush with a servo before pinching the bridge of his nose, "I'm glad you're okay, but what were you doing down there?"

"Great question," You lift your head up to deadpan him, then eventually drag yourself to sit up. Sticky, pink transfluid drips down your body. Your face, and hair, are all drenched in him, "It's not like you rolled over in your sleep and had me pinned for nearly half an hour. What the hell?"

Rodimus blinks, and his face turns a deeper shade of blue as he rubs the back of his neck, "Oh, so that's why I had that dream about you..."

Is he serious right now?

"Oh, you think?" You wipe your lip when it starts to drip into your mouth, "I think I could tell when you started moaning my name in your sleep."

"Well, you're just so tiny and soft and-" The red and yellow mech bites the knuckles of the servo not holding you in embarrassment. "But what was I supposed to do, huh? Hold it in?"

God, he is.

"I'm literally gonna kill you, Rodimus." You shiver, his transfluids cooling against your skin. You can't believe he dares to look you in the eye, "I am never begging to nap with you ever again, or maybe at least warn me next time."

"No offense taken," Rodimus nods in agreement for once, watching you wring your hair out, "I'm sorry, Y/n, I really am. I can help clean you up? As a sincere apology from yours truly?"

"As long as I don't come into contact with more of this stuff," You flick a bead of transfluid off your finger into his direction, "And you better be sorry, or it'll be a long time before I might actually let you fuck me."

"Wait, you'll what-" Splat, "EWUGH!!"

[weaselle]

Stuff From My Weaselle Head

Did you know there are mink in California?

I've only seen one in the wild ONE TIME and i couldn't figure out what i was looking at

it was like 10 years ago and i was like whoa that was the smallest most dangerous nutria i've ever seen!

that's a joke about people thinking weasels are rodents -- nutria are invasive rodents that are just like if a beaver gave up its engineering degree and more than half its body weight, check it out

here's a nutria

the biggest nutria will weigh about 20lbs (9kg) and

here's a beaver

(which max out around 65lbs, or 30kg)

they are both water-adapted rodents (huge, webbed back feet, tho the nutria's tail isn't as specialized) that live in and at the edge of water and eat woody plants (beavers eat trees, nutria eat stuff like cattails)

Nutria don't build dams, but a few years ago, some native beavers in the Portland area and some invasive nutria were observed building a dam together! which is interesting, especially as beaver do sometimes engage in cooperative co-habitation with muskrats.

okay so muskrats are another aquatic rodent with the same design but tiny -- they weigh around 3 pounds (1.3kg)

Muskrat

and sometimes a mated pair of muskrats will spend the winter in a beaver lodge with a mated pair of beavers. The beavers store food for the winter under the cold water (keeps it good like a fridge) and go out and bring back food every day or two. The muskrats eat the more tender bits from the branches the beavers bring in and sleep in the safe warm den, but the muskrats sort of pay rent by going out every couple days and collecting reed stems etc and changing out the bedding that lines and insulates the inside of the beaver's lodge.

ANYWAY. No, for real tho, rodents aside, when i saw the mink, what i actually wondered for a second was "are there tiny river otters in california?"

River otters come in all kinds of sizes, from as small as a little kitty to as big as a person, so. It was a reasonable guess. And it turns out there is actually a river otter species that lives in California, but they are bigger, they get up to 30 lbs (13kg)

N. American River Otter

That's not what i saw tho. Nope, what i saw was an American Mink.

American Mink are semi-aquatic, they are sort of in-between a ferret and a river otter. They weigh about 2lbs (1kg) and look like this

American Mink

and the one i saw was swimming

and i mean like this on the surface but also diving and rolling and sort of scurrying around through the water, proper otter behavior. Like, i couldn't see as deep as this, but look

They totally do otter shit. So you can't blame me for wondering if i had seen an otter.

But it was a mink! I didn't even know there was a native mink here, and it made me learn we also have ermine too! This is an ermine

They are colored brown with a white belly like a common weasel for half the year, and i didn't know there were little river otters OR ermine in California until i was looking up stuff because of that mink i saw :)

Seeing it swim around in the wild was at least as exciting as that time i saw a fisher!

Sort of getting back to the nutria vs. beavers thing, fishers are like a giant marten, basically. A marten is a tree weasel that can weigh a max of maybe 3lbs (1.3kg) . A fisher (sometimes called a fisher cat) is, like, 96% identical to a marten but way bigger, maxing out around 16lbs (7.25kg).

here's what martens look like

and here's what fishers look like

despite their name, fishers aren't aquatic and don't eat many fish. They, like martens, are semi-arboreal (spend a lot of time in trees) and have a diet nearly identical to other martens (mice, rabbits, eggs, berries, basically anything else they can get their teeth on, and a lotta squirrels)

you could easily mistake one

for the other

if it weren't for the size difference

[norriszn]

with The Nortrell Primer coming up soon (it's coming up soon i prommy), i wanted to start sharing a few things i've pieced together, a few things that didn't quite add up at the time, especially during that twitch stream from about 3 years ago, when lando was live answering some questions from subs/viewers with max, cause i didn't know all the stuff i know now ofc.

and when i say "a few things" i really mean a lot of things but they all lead back to the same thing: the day max saw his best friend for the first time. which, for the record, wasn't the first time they spoke and it wasn't the first time they officially met.

it was just the first time max saw lando like really saw him and, for some reason, remembered.

LANDO'S TWITCH STREAM | lando and max talking about karting days

april 14th 2022

as many as you know, they both began karting early, on separate countries but with the same goal. they didn't end up on the same team (ricky flynn motorsport) until 2012, and it wasn't until 2013 that they finally competed against each other in the same class (kf-junior) during the WSK euro series.

in this clip, they talk about how they got started in karting, which eventually leads to max sharing the story of the first time he saw lando on track.

full transcript:

max: "what made you get into karting?" erm, i went to the singapore f1 race in 2008. loved it, loved the sound. and then i tried karting after school once and just fell in love with it... lando: awww max... and kept going back every day. and then i just started racing. i'm not going to go into that story really. it's take ages. i just liked it when i tried it. and then i kept doing it. lando: i did mine... we went to a car race after school on friday, mate. max: yeah? lando: and then my dad went round asking different people if they have any spare suits and boots. and i think we've still got the suits and boots that i got. it was like a blue suit and i mean, at the time, right, i must, it's 2007. so i must have had like a kids 13 size shoe, mate. kids 12, maybe not even that. max: kids 12. lando: kids 12 or something, and these are like size 3, size 4 shoes, which are way too big for me. imagine me in a bambino, right? (the bambino karting class is for kids aged 6–8, using smaller, lighter karts made just for them) how small i was within a size 4 shoe! max: i first saw you -we didn't know each other at this point- but i remember watching, i don't know why i was at pfi (as in pf international circuit). you were just driving around in this little comer (as in comer cadet), like tiny, mate. and i just remember watching for a few laps. lando: yeah, you're watching me, yeah? max: yeah, someone said "that kid... he's just won or something" so i was like oh. lando: oh, really? max: yeah, it was... you had the...that... your first helmet with that black and orange one on. lando: i'm not going to lie i never won a race in cadets. max: i don't know, they said you've... i don't know... you were first(?) [inaudible for me] lando: i think they just said i was goated. max: yeah, probably chatting to the team boss, picking you up. lando: i was probably like 5 years old. max: you were erm... lando: i must have been what? max: you had the black and orange lid on. lando: yeah, so i must have been 8, 9. max: yeah. lando: but i mean, i was freaking tiny at 9 years old. max: you're whizzing round, mate. you're so small. their friend: max, you've been following borris around since he was 9. max: yeah. lando: he's just an absolute fanboy, really. max: i'm day one fan, mate. their friend: watch his fanboy. he's a hidden fan girl. he's a double agent in disguise. max: (to his friend) you're the fan girl, mate. you've recently discovered discord and gets in every day. lando: he's freaking every day waiting on discord for us to join, mate.

okay, now let's set aside how they got into karting for a second and just focus on what max said. because it's kind of wild. he knew lando before even really knowing him. max didn't know who he was, but he remembered him. remembered the way he drove. remembered the way someone told him that lando won and remembered how tiny he was.

max remembered him long before they became anything to each other.

and of course, lando, being very lando, laughed it off and said "you were watching me, yeah?" in that confident way he does when he's just trying to wind max up... but because he's also so lando, you could practically hear his brain gears turning mid stream, and, as always, once his brain starts going, his mouth doesn't exactly wait for permission to follow.

that's when he said two things that stuck with me:

first, that he never won a race in cadets, as in comer cadets class.

and second, that he was probably around nine years old at the time.

and that's what made me revisit all of this. i remember watching that stream and thinking: there's no way max is making that up. no way someone just randomly told him a random kid (lando was random kid abck then) had won when he hadn't. like… who lies to a kid's face like that? (who would lie to this face? not me)

so i went back. i started digging because earlier this year (big 2025), when the 2019 rookies (george, lando, alex) started "closing up" in the formula (n)one standings again, i remembered they used to race in the same karting series: the super one series (s1 to f1). and that little spark sent me down the rabbit hole, and eventually, i ended up writing a big post about it in april but i finally posted like a week ago (this one right here).

and here's what i realised: lando norris is an unreliable narrator.

i don't blame him tho... memories from that age blur, results get mixed up, wins feel smaller in hindsight. but still. lando... let me hold your hands (The Big Paws) when i say this... you were the comer cadet 'o' plate winner in 2010.

there is literal footage. there is photo evidence.

lando norris wins comer cadet 'o' plate 2010 via tvkc on fb reposting 4motor yt vid

earlier this year, adam norris posted what looked like a karting memory (note)book on ig and the front cover was a photo of little lando norris, small enough to look like he barely fit in the frame, holding a massive trophy. that pic as far as i can tell, was taken the day he won the comer cadet ‘o’ plate, at none other than pf international circuit, the very same place max said he saw lando for the first time.

age 10, "karting is what i love doing an my ambition is to win the formula 1 world championship" via adam_norris_pure_electric on ig (this pic is not part of adam ig feed anymore btw :/)

so far, everything lines up pretty well... that race lando won was in june 6th 2010, which means both he and max would've been 10 years old, not 9 like lando said in the stream.

so… was it that exact date, that exact circuit, where max first saw lando? ermmm, well, max said lando was wearing a black and orange helmet. and while lando was wearing a helmet that looked similar, it wasn't exactly black and orange on that day.

he did have a black and orange lid back in 2009 when he was racing in comer cadets (yes, he raced in comer cadets back in 2008, 2009 and 2010).

and how do i know lando did wear that black and orange helmet? because there’s a book — published over fifteen years ago by none other than jane eyes and steve illott, callum illott’s parents.

now, if you're reading this (and i'm not just screaming into the void), you might be asking: why would callum’s parents publish a book? well, simple — callum was also racing in the comer cadet class in 2009.

jane and steve put together that book — and a few others — filled with photos from every round of the championship, each with little captions underneath.

and this particular book was focused on lando and his older brother, oliver. and in those photos (which i'll include below), you can clearly see lando in 2009, wearing — you guessed it — a black and orange helmet.

comer cadet season 2009 by jane eyes and steveilott via blurb books uk

if you're wondering how i even found this book: i stumbled across it years ago just by googling “lando norris karting 2009 cadets” but it came back to me this year when adam posted a pic of a page of it back in february.

@.lando @.olivernorris1 Good photo jane_eyes_ilott via adam_norris_pure_electric on threads

(adam's name is a recurrent name in this post. lando might joke that max was his og fan but truthfully? one of his biggest fans has always been his dad. kudos to adam.)

in that post, adam tagged callum's mum, which makes it pretty likely that he was flipping through that exact same book.

let's keep going.

lando that year he didn't win a single race, didn't take the 'o' plate, and finished 14th in the championship standings.

and here's the key part: in 2009, max was still living in malaysia. we know this because on november 22nd, 2009, max raced in the red white sangari invitational kart prix, where he finished 5th. so he couldn’t have seen lando racing in the uk that year.

so... is max an unreliable narrator too? maybe. or maybe he just remembered the helmet a little differently. it's far more likely he saw the chrome and orange helmet lando wore in 2010 and remembered it as black and orange. they were similar enough, especially in motion. it happens.

taking all that into account: the dates, the location, the helmet, the timelines... i feel pretty confident saying NOW that in june 6th in 2010, at pf international circuit, max saw a tiny little boy who would eventually become his best friend :') smol frens !!!!

that was the moment. that was the origin story.

and lando doesn't even remember it lmao.

incredible.

oh, and if you want to make all of this even more insane, check the 2010 MSA drivers entry list. you'll find norris siblings names, and yes callum illott (he raced that year too!)but keep scrolling and you'll spot a slighthy familiar name: edward jones.

super one msa series 2010 entries (26.2.10) via super one british kart series news

now, if you're asking yourself who's edward jones???? just click here (that's ed's ig carrousel from last year, you can see lando, max and tom as well <3 because those are his friends and ed is a racing driver now btw)

it's actually insane to think about that maybe max didn't just see lando for the first time that day. he might've seen ed too, one of his closest friends.

alexa, play invisible string by t swift!

that's all. bye.

WAIT. one more thing:

please don’t take this to twitter. i've done my best to stick to what's public: things max has said himself, karting pages pdfs and published books. nothing way too personal.

the last thing i want is for anyone to make max/lando/ed uncomfortable or start harassing them with questions.

if i see this out of context on that hellsite i will cry and i will delete everything and then i will relocate to the moon. bye <3

[luckykiwiii101]

hello!! wanted to share some successes I've been having lately!!

- I've been getting compliments for my outfits and for the way I look (it might not seem like much but this is something I used to be really insecure about and after working on my self concept a lot I've been getting a lot more compliments!)

- manifested an interaction with my sp! until now he hadn't spoken to me or even known who i was, but yesterday he randomly came to my class and sat beside me (which is strange because he has other friends in this class and he didn't take this course to begin with). we spoke the whole time and it was really fun!

- manifested clear skin!! i had been having a bad breakout and started manifesting clear skin, and within a week my skin is back to being healthy and clear again

- got a person i used to be friends with to reach out again and tell me they missed me. this wasn't something I was consciously manifesting, it was more just a thought I had from time to time. I'd think about them and picture them randomly texting me one day saying they missed me, and then forget about it later. a few days ago they texted me saying they're really sorry for what went down between us and it was all their fault and they want to be friends again.

- i manifested receiving 1000$ in a day!! i was bored and was thinking about buying some shoes, when I got an SMS stating that 1000$ had been sent to me!! it was from a relative I'm not close with, who said they sent it as an early birthday present (which is wild since my birthday isn't for a few months 😂)

but yeah, it's been SO fun and I've been really lucky i absolutely love it!!

This is amazing!!!😭 And the 1000$ in one day?! damn 😭 i love that for you

[smurphyse]

Cardinals | Spencer Reid

Smurph's Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 11 of Routine Maintenance

Warnings: none

Summary: You and Spencer head back to Thunderbird after your day out. Spencer gets a call from JJ.

The sun dipped down beneath the trees, the now familiar nighttime chill of Northern California starting to seep through the blanket. Honey snored quietly on Spencer's chest. She was drooling a bit, but he didn't mind. 

He'd been awake for a while, just watching the afternoon turn to evening. This stunning place enraptured him with its serenity. Nothing else seemed to exist besides the river, the fire, the wildlife that ran in the forest around them. Honey's breathing lulled him into a happy security, a calmness he hadn't felt in a long time. 

Spencer had his hand over hers on his sternum, the other running lightly over her ample backside under the covers. It all felt so natural, like this was right where he was supposed to be. Such a thought would have been terrifying a few weeks ago and sent him running for the hills. But at the moment, it only served to comfort him. After running for so long, the last week or so of sitting still and breathing in the salt air seemed to heal a part of him. 

The fact that his car was stuck in Rose's shop against his will only forced him to let it happen. 

I wish I could stay like this forever, he found himself thinking. It made his blood run cold. 

Here he was, in one of the most beautiful places on earth with a wild wonderful woman on his chest. Her soft moans and sighs echoed around his skull. The memory of her body pressed against his had burned into his mind forever, her trust in him making everything else fall away. The world was still, his mind was calm, and yet his heart began a panicked thumping. 

He couldn't stay here. Spencer didn't belong anywhere. He'd lost that right the second he picked up that gun the night before his mother died. Even without pulling the trigger, he became a ghost. He'd killed a part of himself that night. 

He actually liked Honey, and it terrified him. While he meant what he'd said to her about intimacy, it wasn't supposed to last and she didn't expect it to. She'd been through enough without becoming romantically entangled with him. Everyone he loved either got killed, died tragically, or somehow became broken beyond repair. 

But she's already broken, that small hopeful spark that lived in the back of his heart whispered. How much more damage could I do? So much more. He knew from experience that you can never break completely, but that doesn't mean there's a point in which it just stops. You just break in different places until you die. 

"What made you finally leave DC?" Honey's voice came. In his mindful terror, he hadn't noticed her wake. Maybe his petrified heart battering his insides pulled her from her slumber. 

Spencer swallowed thickly, but his body couldn't help but hold her a little tighter. "My mom died. She was the only one who needed me."

She kept her head firmly on his chest, almost as if to force herself not to look at him. Her thumb rubbed softly along his chest hair. Whether she was comforting herself or him, Spencer couldn't be sure. 

"Everyone here needs me," she whispered. It broke his heart. She sounded so small, like in one blink she might disappear. 

"I just want you," he offered quietly. "Whatever you want to give."

Honey slowly got up on her elbows to look at him. Her thigh still slung over his hips, and her wild hair glimmered in the firelight as the sun faded. "I don't think I've ever had a choice before."

She was ethereal in the evening glow. Like an angel that came down just to watch him in the darkness. Spencer didn't want to like her, didn't want to touch her again, but he couldn't stop himself. Maybe he didn't want to. He brushed back a stray curl and nodded. 

"Let's make the most of this, then."

She kissed him. Another broken piece of heart muscle glued itself together. Honey pulled herself away and got dressed. The piece broke again as he followed. 

They cleaned up their camp and headed for Thunderbird. It was still early when they got back, maybe five o’clock. The light was brighter here than in the forest, as the trees swallowed the sun in their thickness. Now it bobbed easily above the ocean, steadily making its way under the surface to disappear for the night. 

"A cardinal crashed into my windshield once," Honey said as they broke through the trees that separated the town from the rest of the world. "I thought he might die. Planned a funeral and everything, but he got up and flew away a day later."

She turned to look at him, "What do you think that means?"

Spencer shrugged. He liked the way she asked these types of questions out of nowhere. First about God and the billboards and now this. "I don't know much about them, besides that they're also called Virginia Nightingales."

She smiled at that, "My mom used to say that they were our passed loved ones coming to visit."

Spencer hadn't heard her talk about her mom, but from Rose's words and Honey's own, she'd lost her sister and her father was a bastard. Maybe he didn't want to know more about her family. 

"Maybe what he saw in the reflection was a better life."

She didn't say anything after that. Spencer walked Honey to her door, shoving his hands in his pockets. His sudden anxiety at his feelings toward her eased a bit under the fabric. 

"Dinner later?" Spencer asked hopefully as she went to unlock her door. 

Honey smirked and leaned on a hip, "You spent most of the last day with me, and you still want to see me tonight?"

"If sex is involved, definitely," he replied with a grin. She squinted playfully his way, and he shrugged, "I'm also just gonna get hungry later."

"I'll see you for dinner, then," she replied smoothly, then headed up her stairs without another look back. Spencer couldn't help but wait until she got to the top of the stairs to close the door behind her, eyeing her skirt and thighs in reverence. 

Spencer went into his room, smiling despite himself. He knew he was in trouble with this girl, but he was also leaving in three weeks. Even if he fell for her, he wasn't staying here. Being stuck here was likely the only reason he had the feelings he did. Forced proximity and all that. 

All he wanted to do was plop on the bed and fall asleep for a bit after the long drive, but the blinking of the landline on the nightstand caught his attention. It was an old answering machine with a tape recorder. He clicked the button without much thought and went about getting undressed for a well deserved shower. 

"Hey, Spence," JJ's voice filtered through. She sounded worried, like she always did when she called. Her voice shook, "I had a nightmare that I've had before again. You were seven, and helpless, angry as hell. You balled up your fists and I laughed at your swings…"

There was something about the way she spoke that made him stop in his underwear in the middle of the room. 

"Emily told us what happened. I'm not calling to ask if you're okay, even though all I wanted was to fly down and check on you myself. She says you're okay, that you just want time. I'm going to give you that."

Spencer's jaw trembled at the resignation in her voice, like she'd given up on him or seeing him ever again. He tried to distract himself by grabbing his suitcase and pulling out some pajama pants, but she wasn't done. 

"I thought this whole time that you were just running away. I thought you couldn't handle it, this life or your own… I realized something when I woke up this morning in a cold sweat." Tears came to JJ's voice. She sucked in a wavering breath and let it go. "I'd been staring at this hole in your chest that had been dug there for decades. I know you've always been at war with your bloodstream and the lies the FBI fed you."

Spencer sat down slowly on the bed, listening like his life depended on it. "I thought you'd find some way to fill that hole, or that we were helping you. We weren't. I should have been there when you needed a friend. But I was off on my own, we all were, selfish and stupid…"

Spencer held his breath as tears streamed down his face. Silently, they dripped down his cheeks and landed on his thighs. His heart cracked open. He let it pour out. 

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," JJ pleaded through the crackling speaker. "I can't say it enough. So, if you call me back or let me in… I swear I'll never let you down again. You're my best friend, my brother. I like to think I know the devil you've been fighting with, but I see now that I didn't give you the chance to just tell me about it."

She ended softly, but full of that maternal sisterly ferocity he knew to be true to who she was. "I love you. I'm ready to love you how you deserve. Whether you come back or not, I'm here. I'll always be here."

"Also, not to be nosy, but this nice woman named Mattie May answered when I called," JJ chuckled happily, her usual voice returning. "She said you were on a day trip with a girl named Honey. I'm not gonna tell you to go for it, but I hope you're having fun. I want you to be happy, so I just… I hope you're enjoying yourself."

The line clicked off. Spencer found himself laughing quietly all alone in his dark room. He loved JJ, and the team, he really did. There was just so much history between them all it seemed to do in the last few years was separate them further. 

It was time to open himself up to them again. 

Spencer picked up the phone. He dialed a familiar number, one he'd memorized the first time he saw it. 

"Jareau," JJ's voice came through. Spencer swallowed down the lump in his throat. It took a few moments for him to open his mouth. "Hello?"

"It's me," he managed quietly. He rubbed away his tears as a smile he hadn't felt in a long time creaked open on his weary face. 

"I love you, too."

Smurph's Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Notes: I missed these guys <3

Also, have you guy listened to any of the songs that these chapters are inspired by? Which one is your favorite?

@thedancingcostumeyoungadult @muffin-cup @simplyparker @spencerreidsmommy @hotchandspencearedilfs @gspenc @kbakery @nomajdetective @givemeth @hoshihiime @halloween-is-my-nationality @reidselle @thisiscalmanditsdoctorreid @dreatine @thebloomingeagle @fortheloveofwonderland @theforgottenwinter @parkerreidnorth @reidselle @randomhoex @scargarcia-magshotchner @stitchwrites @pygmygoat-bicyclehelmet @cle13 @aysixdy @elhotchner @directioner5life @elhotchner @loveeee2134 @preciousbabypeter @la-stuffs @stories-you-wont-hear @hotchlover @fortheloveofwonderland @lokiandhisdagger @bellanutellababyyy @dark-night-sky-99 @straightforbuckybutgayfornatasha @maltamurdock @charelletjee @kansas-reid @zephyrmonkey @spencer-reid-wonderland @spencersprettyslut @im-sure-its-fine @tvdstelenaforever @teddylupintonks  @lilibet261 @kneelforloki @dirtytissuebox @almostgenerallyalways @whovian378 @cl0udyqu33n @thegettingbyp2 @averagestudent03 @the-sun-died-out @squishycalumxo @sebastiansstanswhore 

@louderfortheback @pandabiiissh @calebye

@dottirose @lfaewrites @padsfirewhisky @wheels-upin-thirty @f-me-reid @justanothercmblog @academiareid @moyo5653 @comfybabie @duds31 @trxshwriting @boimlers-gonna-boim @farfromthehomelands @cynbx

[puckbunnyera]

Second Chance | Arber Xhekaj

• ──────────────♡────────────── •

pairing: arber xhekaj x reader genre: angst, fluff at the end word count: 1.9k warnings: none summary: two months after your break-up, arber comes begging for a second chance

notes: started this a couple of weeks ago and i've finally finished it. the part that took the longest was deciding which hockey player i wanted to use for it.

• ──────────────♡────────────── •

Coming to the game was a bad idea. I knew it from the moment the word yes slipped from my lips, but when Mayah, the bubbly girl that sits next to me in my psychology lecture, asked if I would attend the game between the Montreal Canadiens and Toronto Maple Leafs with her after her friend bailed, I couldn't find it in me to turn her down.

In the day leading up to the game, I convinced myself that everything would be fine. That he wouldn't even know I was there. I'm not quite sure if I jinxed myself or if Karma was playing some cruel joke on me, but the second we made it to our seats, right there in the front row behind the Canadiens bench, I decided it was some sick and twisted combination of the two. Regret began to make itself right at home in my head the second we settled into our seats.

As the two teams make their way out onto the ice to head to their respective benches, the crowd goes wild. The arena fills with the sound of thousands of fans cheering and yelling. However, the sound of my own rapidly beating heart floods my eardrums, replacing the loud screams of the fans, as my eyes drift to him and our gazes interlock.

Arber Xhekaj, defenceman for the Montreal Canadiens of the National Hockey League, known to me as my ex-boyfriend, is staring right at me and there was nowhere I can go to hide.

Once upon a time, he was a man that meant everything to me. He was my whole world. We spent a little over two years in a relationship together, happy and in love. Things were perfect between us, until they weren't. What started as small, petty disagreements that happened here and there became full-on arguments that occurred almost every day. While I was putting in the effort to fix things, he was shutting me out. I pinned all of it on stress and the lack of time we got to spend with each other because of his work and my schooling. I tried to wait it out in hopes that things would return to normal, but eventually, I couldn't do it anymore. I didn't see the point in fighting for us if he wasn't willing to do the same. I've spent the past few months trying to move on and forget about him, and I thought I was doing pretty well. That all came crashing down the moment he noticed me. I suddenly became painfully aware that I was still hopelessly in love with him.

The insistent tapping on my arm is what finally pulls me from our impromptu staring contest. When I turn to my left, Mayah is buzzing with excitement.

"Oh my god! Arber Xhekaj is literally staring at you." She squeals. "How are you not freaking out right now? He is six feet and four inches of muscle and manliness. I would climb him like a fucking tree if given the opportunity."

The ending comment causes a pang of jealousy to flare up inside of me. I push it away as quickly as it appears though. I have no right to feel that way anymore, as we are no longer together. It's a feeling that I don't want to feel again, at least not when he is concerned.

Not able to come up with a response, I shrug my shoulders to express a feeling of indifference and turn to face forward as the announcer's voice floods the arena.

• ───────────────────────────── •

Despite the Habs loss to the Maple Leafs, my body is still filled with adrenaline and excitement as I walk out of the arena with Mayah. I had forgotten how much I loved hockey. It was how I met Arber. When things ended between us, I forgot how much I enjoyed watching the game as I tried my hardest to forget him.

"Thanks for coming with me."

"Thanks for inviting me." I respond. "I think that's the most exciting thing I've experienced in a while."

"Anytime." She smiles. "My Uber is here but I'll see you in class on Monday?"

"Yeah, see you Monday." I wave her off as she climbs into the car waiting for her by the curb.

As I wait for my own ride to arrive, I feel my phone buzz in my hand, alerting me of a text.

From Unknown Number: Hey. Can we talk?

Despite there being no name on the contact, I knew exactly who it was from. I'm about to turn my screen off to ignore it when another message comes through.

From Unknown Number: I know you're seeing this.

From Unknown Number: Please

From Unknown Number: I just want to talk.

All it takes is for that fourth and final message to come through for me to make my decision. I type out a short reply just as my Uber arrives.

• ───────────────────────────── •

A couple of hours later, here I am, standing in front of his apartment door. I'm a ball of nerves as I raise my hand to knock on the door. It only takes two knocks for the door to go swinging open and I suddenly find myself standing face-to-face with the man I swore I would never see again.

"Hey." He greets, voice still as deep and mesmerizing as I remember. "Come in."

I give him a tight-lipped smile as I step past him into the apartment I once considered a second home. He closes the door without a word and then leads me into the living room.

"Do you want some water?" He asks as I take a seat on the couch.

"No, thank you." I reply, trying to keep my voice steady in hopes that I can conceal the emotions that are beginning to rise to the surface. "What did you want to talk about? It's late and I can't stay long."

"I-" He begins before quickly cutting himself off, taking a seat on the sofa opposite of me. He sighs heavily and then tries again. "I miss you."

I freeze instantly at the words that leave his mouth. A mixture of shock and anger forms in my chest. "Arber-"

"These past few months have been hell." He continues. "I know you probably don't believe me, but I'm telling the truth."

"I can't do this." My voice wobbles as I speak, tears welling up in my eyes. I stand up, making a move towards the door. "I...I need to leave. I shouldn't have come here."

"Why?" Frustration is evident in his tone as he quickly follows my movements, grasping my hand to stop me from walking any further. "Why can't you just stay and talk to me?"

"Because if I stay, I might do something stupid." I shake my head, trying to clear the racing thoughts that have taken over. "Like..." My voice trails off, not able to finish the sentence as I attempt to get my emotions under control.

"Like what?" He interrupts, inching closer to me.

"Forgive you," I answer, looking him in the eyes for the first time since I arrived. "Because God knows you don't deserve my forgiveness. Not this easily."

"You're right. I don't deserve it," He nods. "But I want it anyway, because I'm selfish and cruel, right?" He punctuates his question with an audible scoff. Throwing my own words from our last argument at me.

"Don't say that like I'm the bad guy." I bite back. "You were the one that pushed me away like I was nothing when I was the only one there for you." My words are bitter. "I've tried so hard to make myself hate you for the way you made me feel. I tried so fucking hard. Instead, I ended up hating myself for failing so miserably. Despite my efforts, I still fucking love you. And it hurts."

My chest is tight and I'm breathing heavily as I fight back the sob that threatens to leave me. His hand grips mine tighter as he opens his mouth to speak.

"I can't tell you how sorry I am. I know I fucked up. Treating you like that and letting you walk out that door were two of the biggest mistakes I've ever made in my life." He confesses. "I want you. No, scratch that. I fucking need you. And I'll spend every day for the rest of our lives making up for what I did if that's what it takes."

"I waited for you." I whisper as the dam behind my eyes finally breaks, tears cascading down my cheeks. "For two months, I waited for something to change. For you to change."

"I know." His hands lift to caress my face, thumbs gently brushing away my tears. "And I promise I'll never make you feel like that again. I won't take your love for granted ever again."

"I thought you were falling out of love with me and I couldn't take it anymore."

"Never did I stop loving you." He shook his head, a deep frown etched on his face.

"Then what happened?"

"I was scared. You were getting busier with school and I was beginning to travel more. The longer we spent apart the more I began to question the stability of our relationship. I was afraid that, because of my busy schedule and how often I have to travel for the majority of the year, I wouldn't be able to be the type of boyfriend that you need. That you deserve. I convinced myself that it was only a matter of time before you realized that and as a result, I subconsciously began to push you away."

"You could have just talked to me." I sigh. "We could have figured it out."

"I know." He nods. "I wish I could take it back. I really do. If you would just give me a second chance, I'll do better."

"Promise?"

"Yes. I promise."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"I'll give you another chance, but if you fuck it up, we're over for good."

"I won't." He shakes his head, hands moving to my waist to pull me into him. "You have my word."

"Good." I smile softly, laying my head on his chest.

The room falls silent as we stand in each other's embrace, taking in the moment. After a few minutes, it's Arber that makes the first move to separate us, but only enough to be able to see my face. He stares silently, lips parted as if he wants to say something.

"What?" I question, noticing his hesitation.

"Can I kiss you?" His right hand moves up to rest on my cheek, angling my head up a little more. It takes less than a second for me to respond.

"Please do."

His lips brush mine softly at first, a brief peck to test the waters. He pulls back slightly to examine my face. I'm not quite sure what he is looking for, but whatever he does or doesn't find has him leaning back in. This kiss is deeper, hungrier, more desperate. We stay like this for a while. Melting into each other. Once the lack of oxygen becomes too much, we finally part. Our foreheads remain pressed together, our eyes still closed as we try to catch our breaths.

"I really fucking missed you." He whispers, our lips brushing with every word he speaks.

"I missed you too." I smile against his lips.

"Stay."

"What?" I pull back slightly and open my eyes to look at him.

"Stay." He repeats. "Stay the night with me. It's late anyways. I don't want you going back on your own. So stay."

I take a few seconds to think it over before I respond, nodding my head. "Okay."

Smiling, he steps out of our embrace and intertwines his fingers with mine, pulling me behind him as he begins to make his way down the familiar path to his bedroom.

[rosepetalsinwinter]

Five Years That Felt Like a Millennium (2) — Bucky Barnes

Pairing: tfatws!bucky x reader

Word count: 7,579

Summary: Baby Girl isn't doing too well after seeing Quentin.

Warnings: illusions and mention of violence, abuse, manipulation, and cheating, self-deprecation, fluff, flirting, angst

Note: I apologize for my absence. The response to the first part has been unbelievable! Thank you all so much. I hope I can do it justice.

Ao3│Wattpad│Ko-fi

Main Masterlist │Part 1 — Part 2 — Part 3

Happy Reading! 💜

Bucky didn't know a person could cry so much. Surely, the body must have surpassed a threshold ages ago for maximum fluid expulsion, but it seemed unlikely. Tears ran unbidden down Baby Girl's face, soaking into her white camisole, still wet from the lake. At least her body no longer wracked with sobs, which was a small accomplishment, he supposed.

He filled a glass with cold water. "Here, drink this."

Baby Girl's movements were almost mechanical as she took measured sips, slowly draining the glass. She stared at her reflection in the crystal, then abruptly stood, making Bucky hastily step back. Barefoot and half-dressed, she made for the front door.

Bucky blocked her path. "Where are you going?"

She went around him and reached for the handle, but Bucky intercepted her just in time, pulling her by the wrist. Her eyes were unfocused and wild, darting this way and that. "Hey!" She froze. "Hey," he said again, softer and with considerably less force. "What's going on in that smart brain of yours, huh? What are you thinking?"

"I need to find Quentin," she gulped. "I need to apologize to him. I need to make things right before he—"

She choked on her words, but Bucky knew her enough by now to predict what she would say next. "Before he what? Before he hurts Sam?"

Her face crumpled. "Maybe if I get down on my knees and beg, he'll forgive me, and things can go back to the way they used to be."

Bucky felt his previous anger return. Quentin Beck was a goddamn asshole because, in the span of a few minutes, he had managed to turn a bright and bubbly soul into an inconsolable mess.

"Is that really what you want?" he asked. "You want things to go back to the way they used to be?" Bucky already knew Baby Girl's answer, but he felt it was imperative for her to acknowledge out loud.

"No," she croaked. "Not really, but I don't have a choice. Quentin will hurt Sam and his family."

Bucky wiped the fresh tears from her face, letting his hands linger on her cheeks. "And what about you? He's hurting you. Are you not Sam's family?"

Baby girl began crying anew. Bucky carried her to the couch and held her close, letting her tears run down his bare skin. They sat like that until her breathing eventually evened, and her eyes drooped close. Bucky didn't dare move. Baby Girl was cradled in his arms and against his neck, legs stretched on the couch.

His eyes began to close, sleep slowly taking over, and he was going to let it. They both needed rest after the day's events, but sleep wasn't in his fortune. Bucky's phone buzzed in his pocket, and he startled awake, awkwardly maneuvering around to retrieve it without disturbing Baby Girl.

It was Sam. Bucky glanced down at the sleeping form in his arms. Dried tears painted her face, her eyes were puffy, and her nose red. Bucky's heart lurched in his chest, and he made a hasty decision—promise be damned, Bucky would fix this for her.

He answered the call. "Hey, Sam." And told him everything .

"Sam?" Bucky asked, after Sam had been quiet too long.

Sam sounded wretched with grief. "I knew something was wrong. I just never imagined..."

Bucky sighed, already anticipating the blame game. A family trait, he considered. "It's not your fault. Quentin Beck is to blame, and he will pay for his actions, I promise you." Though Bucky couldn't see him, he imagined Sam nodding his frustration. "Do you think you could get in contact with Congressman Lockhart?"

"Congressman Lock—why?"

"He owes me a favour," said Bucky, not mentioning that he had saved Lockhart's life. "How much are you willing to bet that Lockhart has met Quentin Beck before, and that Beck has probably left a less-than-savoury impression on the Congressman?"

"I don't understand."

"Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, Sam."

Sam was impressed. "I'll ask Torres to get us in contact."

Bucky smirked, feeling a satisfaction spread over him at the thought of Quentin Beck rotting in a jail cell. "You do that. When do you think you'll be back?"

Baby Girl shifted in his arms, and Bucky softened his voice. "Day after tomorrow? Alright, keep me updated." He ended the call.

"Who was that?" came a groggy voice. Baby Girl's eyes were closed, and she was in the process of waking up.

"Sam," Bucky answered, adjusting her in his arms. "His business is taking longer than usual. He and Sarah will be back in a few days.

Baby Girl pushed away from Bucky, sat up next to him, and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Her eyes trailed to his chest and widened in mortification. "Shit, I'm so sorry. I drooled all over you."

When she reached over to wipe him clean, he grabbed her wrist. "Why do you make it a habit to apologize for things out of your control?"

She suddenly jerked away from him, putting ample space between them. "I can hardly help how I feel. If I feel sorry, I apologize."

"Well, don't." Bucky stretched his legs, groaning at the relief. "I'm a grown man," he teased, wiping his chest with the back of his hand. "I can handle a little drool."

Baby girl looked down at her palms, forlorn and despondent. "I'm a mess," she muttered.

"Yes, you are," Bucky responded quietly. She jerked her head in surprise, expecting him to dispute her. But she didn't need his false reassurances any longer. Bucky wanted the full weight of her circumstances bearing down on her so she might escape from the haze of melancholy and finally fight back.

Bucky looked out the window at the setting sun. It cast a beautiful golden glow over the two of them. "You should change into something comfortable," he told her. "There's a lot to talk about."

"Quentin was in one of my electives at school." Baby Girl was freshly showered and changed, wearing Bucky's sweats because she was out of clean clothes. They were enormous on her frame, which suited her well.

Bucky had also changed and was sitting across from her on the kitchen table, a warm cup of tea in his hands. It was something floral with a bitter note. He took his plain while she drowned hers in honey.

"Abnormal Psychology," she continued, "which is ironic because I diagnosed him with narcissism a few years into our relationship. I never told him, obviously. It wouldn't have ended well."

The conversation—long overdue—produced a painful pit in Bucky's stomach. He recognized it as suppressed rage, slowly building in potency and power. Bucky took a large sip of his tea, letting it burn his tongue so he might focus on anything other than the need to punch Beck's face.

"I tripped over his bag. He helped me up; apologized, and asked me to dinner."

Bucky couldn't help how bitter he sounded. "And you said yes."

She looked at him with dead eyes. "I wish I had. Then my life wouldn't have turned into a Shakespearean tragedy."

"That seems a bit bleak," Bucky snorted.

"But isn't it?" she implored. "Bleak? He was my first serious boyfriend; I moved in with him after two weeks and quit my job after a month. He didn't say 'I love you' until I threatened to leave him when I found out he was cheating. I pretended to look the other way when I found another girl's bra in our bed. I laughed when I saw lipstick stains on his collar. I gave him my virginity on my birthday, the day after I found out he cheated on me again. If that isn't bleak, if that isn't a tragedy, then what is? Perhaps it's the fact that I made excuses for him the first time he hit me. I told myself he was aiming for the wall, and I got in the way of his fist, but let's be honest, I was deluding myself."

Baby girl took a deep breath and dug her nails into the table. Her previous sorrow was replaced with unbridled anger. "I recognized all the signs. I knew he was using me—manipulating me! He even said so himself. We were at a party, and his friend said I was 'quite something.' Whatever the hell that's supposed to mean! Quentin said, 'She is, isn't she? But I gotta tell you, I'm not with her for that brain of hers.' I was standing right next to him! He and his friends undressed me with their eyes, and I just stood there and smiled!"

Bucky felt his rage simmering—at Beck, at the situation, at her . "Why are you blaming yourself? It's not your fault!"

Baby Girl pushed away from the table and paced around. "Don't!" she shouted. "Nothing you say will make this okay, Bucky. Nothing you say will make what I did okay!"

Bucky stood up as well, breathing heavily. He had known her less than a week but already felt burning concern on her behalf. "And what did you do?"

"Nothing!" she screamed, and her shrill voice echoed throughout the empty house. "I did nothing! Quentin threatened Sam, then once Sam blipped, he threatened Sarah and the boys, and I knew it wasn't a bluff because he had the connections to back him up. I knew, because I'm the one who helped him get those connections in the first place!"

Bucky sucked in a quick breath. "What connections?" Baby Girl had calmed somewhat after her brief yet brutal rant, and she sat down at the table, sipping her tea.

"What connections!" Bucky almost shouted.

Baby Girl startled. "I don't know! Businessmen, stockbrokers, a lot of Wall Street types. They paid attention to him when he had a pretty girl on his arm."

"Was that all?" Bucky probed.

Baby Girl shook her head. "There were a lot of government officials, too. I told you, remember? FBI, CIA, Homeland Security, Senators, UN spokespersons, congressmen, federal court judges—"

"Repeat that."

"Federal court—"

"No!" Bucky interrupted again. "What you said before."

"Congressmen?" Baby Girl huffed in annoyance. "I don't understand why that stood out to you the most. Are federal court judges not impressive enough for you, Bucky?"

Bucky ignored her snark and sat across from her. "Do you happen to know a Congressman Lockhart?"

Baby Girl paused before taking a sip from her cup. "Surprisingly, yes. Mr. Lockhart left a lasting impression when he didn't try looking down my dress every few minutes or shoving his hand up my leg."

"That's disgusting," he frowned.

"That's life," Baby Girl retorted. "Trust me, I had it better than most women."

Bucky shook his head, hating how she downplayed her struggles. "That's not okay."

Baby Girl scoffed without heat. "Like things were so much better in the forties. Right, Sergeant Barnes?"

Bucky ignored any feelings the utterance of his title from her lips brought forth. "I didn't stand for that then, and I don't stand for it now."

Thankfully, she seemed to have mercy on him and let the topic slide. "He didn't seem to like Quentin much; Lockhart. He asked me a lot of questions, and I think he got suspicious when I couldn't answer anything."

"Like what?"

"Like what I do for work, my interests, how I met Quentin. I couldn't tell him anything without revealing how abusive Quentin was. He especially didn't like it when he found out I was Sam Wilson's adopted kid sister."

Bucky was intrigued. "What did he say?"

"Nothing. He ignored Quentin for the rest of the event, but right before it ended, he pulled me aside and..." she trailed off.

"What?" Bucky encouraged her.

Baby Girl looked at him with shame and guilt swimming in her irises. "Congressman Lockhart told me I was making a mistake. He told me Quentin was using me because of my relation to Sam Wilson. He told me men like Quentin were rotten to the core, and I should run the other way and never look back." She gulped. "I should've listened to him."

Bucky shook his head. "You made a decision. You couldn't have known."

She didn't hear him, seemingly playing the scene in her mind. "Then the strangest thing happened. Congressman Lockhart called a few days later to meet about the project Quentin had proposed. Quentin was ecstatic, as you can imagine. He was overly sweet with me that day." Her brows puckered in confusion. "But I never understood... Why warn me away from Quentin only to cozy up to him later?"

Bucky leaned back in his chair, thinking everything over, connecting the dots. "Congressman Lockhart is a good man," he said. "A good and clever man."

Baby Girl narrowed her eyes. "How do you know him anyway? What does he have to do with anything?"

Bucky hesitated. He didn't want to get her hopes up if his plan didn't work, but he also couldn't watch her beat herself up any longer. This girl, this beautiful and feisty girl, had Bucky wrapped around her fingers since she wrapped her arms around his waist that day on his bike. This girl, who laughed and cried and smiled and was never afraid to voice her opinion. This girl, who looked at Bucky with admiration in her eyes, who looked at his metal arm with gentle curiosity and without any of the disgust or malice he was used to. Who kept her questions light and discrete so as not to unsettle him. This girl, this beautiful and feisty girl, who made Bucky smile.

He would do anything for her. Even if it meant keeping his scheme a secret.

Bucky hesitated, not wanting to lie to her, but finding he had little choice. "I have a plan," he said. "To get rid of Quentin Beck for good."

And Bucky was presented, for the first time since their swim in the lake, a genuine and awe-filled smile, directed entirely at him.

"Lemonade?"

Bucky swam toward the deck, hoisting himself from the lake. Baby Girl was sitting on the edge, letting her bare feet skim the cool water. "You take such good care of me," Bucky teased. He gave a playful shake of his head, sending droplets of water her way.

Baby Girl shrieked and raised her hands to cover her face. "You ass!"

With a chuckle, Bucky leaned back on his elbow, reaching for the drink.

"And to think I brought you sustenance!" Baby Girl pushed a plate of fruit toward him.

Bucky picked up a fruit with a deep purple flesh and examined it with suspicion. "Is this alien food? It looks like something you might find in Asgard."

Baby Girl stared in awe. "You've been to Asgard?"

Bucky was still looking at the teardrop-shaped product. "Not yet," he declared confidently and bit into the flesh. Bucky paused a moment, staring at Baby Girl before taking a larger bite. "What the fuck? Why is it so good?"

Baby Girl laughed. "What, you've never had a fig before?" She grabbed one for herself and showed him a better way to eat it. "You pinch it at the top. Split it open. Fold it over, and voila!" She popped it in her mouth, groaning as flavour burst across her tongue.

"I thought it was some weird kind of plum!" Bucky exclaimed, grabbing another.

"Nope, just a fig."

"Just a fig, she says," Bucky teased. "And what's this?" He threw a shiny orange fruit in the air, catching it just before it smacked Baby Girl in the face.

She took it from him with an unconvincing frown. " This —is a persimmon. You know it's ripe when it's ready to burst. I like to pinch the skin like this—" she demonstrated by making an incision with her teeth, "and suck the flesh." Baby Girl moaned in delight. "I missed this."

Bucky intensely observed her, paying close attention to a drop of persimmon juice on her lip.

"What? Is there something on my face?"

Bucky reached over to wipe the juice with his thumb. "You're a mess," he said hoarsely. Then, he brought his thumb to his mouth and licked it off as she watched him. "It's sweet."

She stared at him, soft lips parted and breaths uneven. "Did you think it would be sour?"

Bucky shrugged and picked up one for himself, following Baby Girl's instructions and getting a proper taste. When he was halfway through his fruit and Baby Girl was still gawking at him, Bucky realized he had taken the flirting a bit too far.

Satisfaction crackled in his muscles, and he twitched out a smirk. It was only a small accomplishment that he had retained some of his frivolous ways, but he was still proud. "What else do you have for me?" he inquired loudly, effectively diverting her.

Baby Girl quickly composed herself, dropping the rest of her persimmon onto the fruit plate. "Watermelon and grapes."

"Does the watermelon change colours, and do the grapes taste like cotton candy?"

"Change colours—No!" Baby Girl gawped. "You have a strong imagination." She suddenly turned thoughtful. "I was thinking of grabbing the cotton candy grapes, though. But they're too sweet for me."

It was Bucky's turn to gawp. "I was being sarcastic. Do cotton candy grapes really exist?"

Baby Girl smiled. "They've been around a while. I'll get you some next time."

Bucky reclined on his elbow, resting his head in his hand. "Next time. I like the sound of that." He caught her eye and asked her the burning question. "So, you've decided to stay?"

Baby Girl pushed the empty glasses and fruit tray away, lying back on the deck. From this angle, with Bucky hovering over her, the sun didn't burn her eyes. She smiled a sad smile. "I don't really have a choice, do I?"

"You always have a choice," Bucky replied fervently. "We would never keep you against your will."

Baby Girl shook her head. "That's not what I meant. Quentin will always find me. He's possessive of his things."

"You're not a thing . And he doesn't deserve you."

"Maybe I deserve him."

Bucky looked into her bright eyes, thinly veiled with tears. He understood the feeling of helplessness—the intense guilt that followed. Even now, after being pardoned and making amends, Bucky couldn't stop guilt from seizing him in the dark hours of the night, when he was most vulnerable and exposed.

He often looked around and wondered if he deserved the life he had been given, this second chance that none of his victims had the fortune of. On more of a surface level, Bucky understood he was as much a victim as any other. A prisoner in his own body. He, and he alone, knew the struggle he had put up for almost twenty years before finally succumbing.

Bucky looked into her bright eyes, thinly veiled with tears, and saw himself reflected in them. He saw himself as a younger man—a better man—waging a war against invisible demons, and he understood. Trauma left its presence in various ways, and the evidence of it was scattered all across her vulnerable physique.

Bucky reached for a strand of her hair. "Sometimes, the hardest prison to escape from is the one we build in our own minds."

Baby Girl turned her head to look up at the sky. "That sounds like something you'd hear at the therapist's."

"And I'm giving it out for free," Bucky smiled.

They both said nothing for a short while, enjoying the sun, and soaking each other's company.

"He used to tell me I was beautiful every day." Her brows creased. "Well, not exactly. He never called me beautiful. He called me hot, and sexy, and fire—" she suddenly scoffed. "I hated that. 'You look fire.' One day, even that stopped. I remember thinking he didn't love me anymore because that's what attracted him in the first place."

Bucky played with her hair, letting her say what she needed to.

"Objectively, I know I'm attractive. I was told often enough by his friends. But I haven't felt pretty in a long time. And it disgusts me that I needed his validation to feel good about myself." Baby Girl took a deep breath, shaking slightly from the overload of emotions. "Sorry."

Making sure she was looking at him, Bucky leaned his head down and kissed the corner of her mouth. Her skin was soft and warm, and he lingered a moment longer than necessary. "You're beautiful," he murmured, savouring her sweet scent. "Absolutely gorgeous."

Baby Girl stiffened under him, eyes widened with surprise, soft lips parted in exhale. She blinked furiously, grabbing her necklace in a white-knuckled grip—a dainty gold crescent moon with black detailing. "I feel very hot," she croaked.

Indeed, Bucky could hear her heart furiously pumping blood through her veins due to his risky kiss. He bent down and placed another, dangerously closer to her lips than the previous. "Let's cool you down then," he smirked, grabbing her around the waist and launching both of them into the lake.

He lost his hold on her as they submerged in the cool water. Bucky kicked off the bottom and broke the surface, looking around for her. Baby Girl emerged a moment later, mascara lines running down her cheeks and brows creased in a furious frown.

She wiped her face and scoffed, "You absolute ass!" When Bucky laughed at her, she splashed him with a large swell of water, which went into his mouth. He choked and sputtered between laughter, welcoming her gentle abuse with a large smile.

"You said you were hot," he rationalized. "I only wanted to cool you down."

Baby Girl intensified her attack, wading closer until she was on top of him, attempting to submerge his head. "You idiot!" she yelled. "My clothes are all wet!"

"Pity," Bucky sputtered, trying to grab hold of her, but she was relentless in her assault, flailing her limbs in reckless abandon.

"Die!" she shrieked, managing to clamber on top of him. She wrapped her legs around his neck and pushed him under, painfully pulling at his roots in the process.

All this time, Bucky could've easily subdued her. But where was the fun in that? When her legs tightened a smidge too much, and Bucky could no longer breathe, he finally put an end to their little game. He clasped his hand around her ankle and gave a gentle pull. Baby Girl fell from his shoulders with a dramatic scream, and realizing she had far surpassed his patience, began to swim away.

Bucky grabbed her ankle once more, keeping her in place. "You brat," he hissed. "I'll teach you a lesson."

Her panicked laughter brought a large smile to his face. Seeing her happy because of him; after the horrible week she'd had, filled Bucky with indescribable pride.

"No!" she giggled. "No more. I'm tired." In fact, she had stopped swimming and was struggling to stay afloat.

Bucky lifted her into his arms, ignoring her feeble protests. "That's enough games for today," he announced, carrying her dripping body inside.

After drying themselves and changing, they settled in the kitchen for dinner. Baby Girl sat on the island with her head resting on her arms, watching Bucky cook.

"Where did you learn that?" she asked when he expertly chopped onions without looking.

Bucky shrugged. "My Ma taught me the basics when I was little. She said cooking was a survival skill."

The girl smiled. "Smart woman."

"That she was," he sighed. "I learned some more in the army. Then, after I was pardoned, I found all this time on my hands and all these cuisines I wanted to try. YouTube is very handy for that."

"That it is." She walked to his side, watching him saute shrimp for the pasta. "You sure you don't want me to help?"

"Yeah, you sit your pretty ass down and relax."

"Yes, Chef!" Baby Girl saluted, not bothering to sit. She exclaimed in delight when Bucky flipped the pan one-handed.

"Wanna see something cool?" he smirked, grabbing a bottle of Cognac from the pantry. "Step back."

Baby Girl shuffled back, and Bucky poured some Cognac into the saucepan. He was so focused on the task that he didn't notice Baby Girl inch closer. Bucky tilted the pan, letting it catch fire, and a beautiful flame blazed powerfully in front of him. He turned, wanting to see her reaction.

She stepped away with a shout, arms raised to protect her face. The flame fizzled away as quickly as it had ignited, but she was still shaking in fear. She fell against the island counter, sliding to her knees.

Bucky turned off the stove and sank next to her, grabbing her arms. "What's wrong?" he worried. "Are you hurt?"

Eyes shut tight, she shook her head, but she was still trembling. "I'm okay."

Bucky didn't believe her. He lifted her up and set her on the counter, sliding between her spread legs. "Hey," he soothed. "What happened just now?"

She shook her head, eyes still closed. "I don't know, I—" Baby Girl exhaled shakily, trying to calm down. "I wasn't expecting—I thought. I'm scared of fire," she eventually admitted.

Bucky frowned. He vividly remembered the night of the bonfire, where she chased AJ and Cass around the large fire. There was no hint of fear on her face that night, no discomfort or hesitancy. He told her as such.

"I don't know. I think it's because the bonfire was out in the open. It was controlled and didn't feel as dangerous. But indoor fires..." She left the next part unsaid, but Bucky understood.

His flambé trick took her by surprise at such close proximity. For a moment, she was transported to her childhood home to relive that fateful night. Bucky hugged her tight, soothing her with kind words of affirmation. "You're safe now. I won't let anything happen to you."

She clutched tightly onto him, burying her face in his neck, breathing heavily into his ears. "Sometimes I think I was supposed to die that night," she whimpered, making Bucky freeze. "I was supposed to die in that house with my family. But I didn't. I'm scared the past will catch up with me one day to finish what it started."

Bucky held on to her tighter.

"I'm scared I'll find myself in that house again, and no one will be there to push me out the window."

"That won't happen," he promised. "I won't let it."

She briefly said nothing, and Bucky worried he hadn't done enough to reassure her.

"Have you seen the house?" she suddenly asked.

"No," replied Bucky, running his hands through her hair. "But Sam told me it was nearby."

Baby Girl hummed. "It's on the far side of the lake, covered by trees. We shared the lake with the Wilsons. Did you know the house is still there? What's left of it anyway. They fixed the damaged parts and put it up for sale. I found out two years ago."

Bucky pulled away from her, meeting her gaze. "It's been up that long?"

"Longer," she replied. "It went up for sale six years ago, but no one will buy it. Who wants to live in a house where an entire family died?"

Bucky wanted to correct her. "You're not dead," he wanted to shout. "You're not at fault. You deserve so much." 

"If I had the money..." she shook her head and dismissed the thought.

Would she buy the house if she could? he wondered. The home where she grew up and created happy memories with her siblings.

Bucky thought about his house in Brooklyn Heights, which had been turned into a poor excuse of a strip mall. The house where he had sleepovers with Steve. Where Rebecca hosted her friends, and Bucky hid underneath her bed to try and scare them. Where he snuck in his prom date, Dorothy, through his bedroom window when his parents were out of town. The time he and Steve were playing baseball on the street, and Steve hit the ball straight through the front window.

Would he buy that house if he could? If it hadn't been bulldozed? He decided he would. He had the desire, and he sure as hell had the money.

"There's no point in dwelling on the past," he parroted. Occasionally, his new therapist offered advice that Bucky kept close to his heart. "You're alive to see another day. Make the most of it."

Baby Girl smiled softly. "You always know just what to say," she teased. "I will."

Bucky was consoled by her steady heartbeat and easy manner. "It's a god-given talent," he shrugged, instantly rewarded by soft giggles and an unenthusiastic shove at his chest.

Once the adrenaline from the scare dissipated, Bucky finally noticed their proximity. Her thighs were bracketing his, and his arms were caging her body. Their breaths mingled in the air between them.

"You're very modest," Baby Girl croaked, jerking away.

Bucky hastily turned to the stove, turning it on and resuming making dinner. "With good reason," he replied, clearing his throat.

He chastised himself while the shrimps finished cooking. Baby Girl had just gotten out of an abusive relationship. Now was not the time to be sweet on her—hovering so close he could smell her shampoo and the scent of her skin.

Wait. Was she out of an abusive relationship? Baby Girl had emphasized that she was only with Quentin because he threatened Sam, Sarah, and the boys. Except, that was no longer an issue as a plan was underway. Bucky knew it, Sam knew it, but did Quentin? Did Quentin assume that his dismissal from the Wilson Residence a few days prior was a fluke? If Quentin returned thinking he could whisk her away as if she owed him anything, he would be sorely mistaken. Bucky would make sure of it.

But where did that leave them? There was obvious attraction—though Bucky was unsure if it was appropriate to act on, considering the circumstances—and they were legal adults, but the path forward felt very unclear. While Baby Girl hadn't shown any unpleasant reactions to Bucky's past, she hadn't particularly reassured him either that it did not bother her. Was it fair to her to be caught up in his mess, along with her own?

So many questions, and yet the answers felt out of reach. Bucky turned around. Baby girl was sitting on the kitchen table, and she gave Bucky a smile that answered at least one question. 

Did she trust him? Her smile said, "Yes. Yes, she did."

Another day passed like all the others. Had it really been over a week since she arrived in Louisiana? Sam and Sarah were still away on "business," and the boys were still at their sleepover—ridiculous really—she knew it was summer break, but there had to be a limit. She and Bucky were still alone together.

Bucky. His name made her burn with embarrassment. Lately, anything and everything related to him made her temperature rise a few degrees. His smile, his presence, his proximity . His hands holding her tight to his chest. Embarrassment always closely followed such thoughts, though for reasons that deeply ashamed her because never, in the entirety of her relationship with Quentin, did she feel like this. Beautiful, and desired, and wanted, and free . Happy.

She had invested around six to seven years in her on-again, off-again relationship with Quentin Beck and never managed to blush as furiously as she did in the presence of Bucky Barnes. The White Wolf. War hero. Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes.

While most girls gushed over Captain America in high school, Baby Girl cut out pictures of his best friend from her textbook and plastered them inside her locker. It was a stupid girl crush, one she quickly outgrew as she matured into a young woman. However, the fascination remained. During the past week, this fascination had transformed from a small, barely there spark to a blazing fire. The gruesome analogy was not lost on her, yet it was the only way to vividly describe her deepening feelings.

Bucky Barnes had lit her heart on fire. And that terrified her. Not because she was afraid of men after her relationship with Quentin, and not because of Bucky's unfortunate past, but because of her unfortunate reality. What did she have to offer a man like Bucky Barnes? She had nothing. No job, no prospects, no backbone with which to confidently regard the world. She had spent six years with an abusive man, and she could have left at any moment—could have gathered the courage to trust her brother Sam to take care of all of them. She hadn't taken the opportunity when presented with it, and there was this man, who hadn't been given any semblance of reprieve, and he was stronger for it.

So, no. While there was obvious attraction between them both, she was not sure it was appropriate to act on. She could never deserve the likes of him.

The path ahead was unclear, but somehow she knew he would be there to guide her. And when he chucked her into the lake that evening, laughing loudly at her temper, she smiled back, hoping her face screamed, "I trust you. I do." 

After an uneventful dinner, Bucky sheepishly announced he had to leave. "I forgot I promised Carlos I'd help with his car."

She raised an unimpressed brow, fixing him with a stern look. He had promised to take her shopping for a new phone, and while she wasn't looking forward to a ride on his death trap, she really wanted her games back. "I didn't know you were a mechanic along with being a war hero."

"I'm not a war hero," he responded mechanically.

The words burst from her lips. "If it weren't for you," she snapped, "Doctor Zola would've been on his merry way to design new techniques to destroy the human race. You stopped him. If that's not heroic, I don't know what is."

"I'm not a war hero," Bucky said again after getting over the initial shock at her outburst.

"But you're a mechanic?"

"I'm not that either," he huffed. "Mr. Thurow needs me to tow his car."

"Excuse me?"

"The company overcharges and always ends up damaging the vehicle. He asked me for a favour."

"Do we have a tow truck?" she asked.

Bucky raised his left hand. "I have a metal arm," he pointed out. "And super strength. I can easily tow a car."

Baby Girl was speechless. "How long will you be?"

Bucky checked his watch. "An hour? Less, if I manage to not get roped into game night."

"Game night? It's a weekday."

"Every night's a game night at the Thurow's," Bucky responded seriously. "We'll get your phone first thing tomorrow morning."

"Promise?" she asked his retreating figure.

"Promise," he replied. "Lock the door, alright? And keep the blinds down."

"Alright, Dad," she retorted, but he had already left.

Baby Girl took a deep breath. This was the first time she had been alone in weeks. She sat down on the couch and closed her eyes. A minute passed, then two, then three. Five minutes later, she opened her eyes and saw only thirty seconds had passed. She groaned from boredom and flopped over the armrest. She was loath to admit that she dearly missed Bucky. There was something in his air and manner of walking that brought peace to her inner turmoil.

She sighed, resorting to cleaning the kitchen, which was not dirty in the least. In the middle of her furiously scrubbing the countertop with a sponge, the landline chimed annoyingly from the other room. "Hello," she answered, twirling the cord with her pinky. "Who's this?"

"Baby Girl!" the jolly voice on the other line bellowed. "I was hoping you'd pick up."

"Sam!" The two talked, catching up on the past few days. It turned out Sam was in Washington. "How's Sarah?" she asked. "Is she enjoying her time away from the boys? They're lovely, but they can be a nuisance."

Sam grumbled something unintelligible under his breath.

"What?"

"She's on a date," he groaned. "Look, I'm happy for her. But I didn't need to see her exchanging spit with a stranger."

"Poor you," she giggled. "And lucky Sarah! Wowza!"

Sam laughed on the other line. "It's great to hear you happy after so long."

"Hmm," Baby Girl hummed, feeling momentarily guilty. "By the way, I thought you and Sarah were going to New Orleans. What are you doing in Washington?"

"He didn't tell you," Sam said with surprise. "I thought he would."

"Tell me what?"

"I know about Quentin," Sam sighed. "I know you're still dating him."

Her breath got stuck in her throat. "He told you?" she asked in disbelief.

"Don't be mad at him," Sam pleaded. "I made him tell me."

There was shuffling on the other end. A loud sniffle.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. I'm sorry you felt like Quentin was the only one you could count on."

"What exactly did Bucky say?" Baby Girl questioned, thinking Sam was too calm about the situation.

"He said Quentin was blackmailing you to stay with him."

Baby Girl sighed. "Is that all? Did he say anything else?"

"Like what?"

"Like... nothing." She realized Bucky had not disclosed any of the more sensitive subject matter. Not the abuse, nor Quentin's impromptu visit. "It's nothing. I'm sorry I kept this from you."

Sam sighed heavily on the other line. "That's in the past. We can only move forward from here on out."

Baby Girl nodded even though Sam couldn't see her. "You have a good friend," she told him. "Bucky's doing a lot to help. He came up with the plan to distract Quentin with "bigger fish," as he put it. Quentin will forget all about me if he finds something more worthwhile. But I'm sure you know all about that."

"He said what? That's not what we planned!" Sam exclaimed. He swore under his breath. "I need to take this call. It's Congress—I'll tell you soon, alright? I'll call you right back."

"Sure," she said, slightly flustered. "I'll be waiting."

Sam ended the call, and she put the receiver down. The second she did, the landline immediately started ringing.

"What took you so long?" she joked with a laugh. "I've been waiting hours for your call."

"You have? I knew you missed me."

Baby Girl felt her heart drop to her stomach. The voice on the other line was not quite as deep, or quite as warm. It was low and raspy, eliciting goosebumps across her arms and bad memories across her skin.

She made to end the call, but his shrill warning stopped her. "You don't want to do that," Quentin hissed.

"What do you want?" she managed to ask between ragged breaths.

"Straight to the point, I see. You've really changed."

"Fuck you!" she seethed. "I asked you a question." She was surprised by her resolve, and so was he.

"What, you're swearing now? That's not the girl I know."

Her body was trembling with adrenaline. "Tell me what you want, or I'll end the call."

She could feel his anger through the line. "I want to talk to you in person."

"Over your dead body!" she yelled.

Quentin was oddly calm with his response. "No, not over mine."

It was so obviously a bait—one she couldn't help but fall for. "What do you mean?"

"It's a shame," he sighed, "that I'm meeting them for the first time under such shit circumstances. They're cute kids. Would've loved New York."

Time seemed to stop.

"Have you boys ever seen the Statue of Liberty? I'll take you once your Aunt comes back home. We can all go together."

There was a muffled noise, then the slam of a door shutting close. It felt like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over Baby Girl. Her muscles tightened painfully, and she collapsed onto the couch.

"No," she whispered.

Quentin laughed on the other end. "Cat got your tongue?"

Baby Girl closed her eyes, feeling tears of frustration well in the corners. This is why she kept her distance. This is why she wanted to go back to Quentin and back to New York. But she let herself hope in Bucky's presence, let herself believe that she could have a family while keeping her freedom. "You monster," she hissed. "Don't you dare touch them." But there wasn't any heat behind her words, only the bitter taste of defeat.

He tasted it too, and oh, how he reveled in it! Quentin laughed again, low and menacing. "I told you I wouldn't let you leave so easily. Meet me in person if you want to see your dear nephews again. And don't you dare tell anyone," he hissed. "This is between you and me."

Baby Girl ignored his warning and reached into her back pocket to grab her phone and tell Bucky. But her hand came back empty. She didn't have a phone; she didn't even have Bucky's number. And did she really want to risk the boys' lives by going behind Quentin's back? He didn't want them anyway, he only wanted her.

With tears burning her eyes and a fire blazing in her chest, Baby Girl asked, "Where do you want to meet?"

On the other end, Quentin smiled, knowing he had won.

Bucky reached into his back pocket and grabbed his phone. He scrolled through his contacts, realizing too late that he didn't have her number. His face fell, and he sighed deep and slow, garnering the attention of the room. Carlos Thurow had invited some friends for a game of poker and forced Bucky to play a round with them. That was four rounds ago.

"What's got you so down, Sergeant?" Carlos teased. "There a girl waiting for you at home?" The men laughed and cheered, barraging Bucky with questions.

He found himself smiling, and finished his beer in one swig. "I do, actually," he said, grabbing his jacket and walking to the door. "I should get going."

The men cheered him on, and Bucky left feeling light and tingly. It wasn't from the alcohol—Bucky couldn't get drunk anymore—it was her. His Baby Girl.

The walk to Sam's was warm. The stars were out, the sky clear, and the wind blew gently, ruffling the trees around him. Bucky took a deep breath, smelling the ocean air and the earthy trees, listening to the faint sounds of crickets chirping and owls hooting. A night had never been sweeter.

Once at the house, Bucky lightened his footsteps and creeped onto the porch, feeling mischievous and wanting to spook Baby Girl. The living room light was on, and he could see the television playing silently through the thin curtain. Bucky placed a hand on the door, frowning when it creeped open at the slightest touch.

Didn't he tell her to lock the door? And to leave it completely open? Delacroix was a small community inhabited by kind and lawful people, but there was a crazy ex on the loose. He expected Baby Girl to be more careful than that.

Bucky decided he would give her a proper scare for her carelessness and slipped through the entryway. He sneaked into the living room, arms raised like in the movies, and—

She wasn't there. Bucky quickly scanned his surroundings. TV playing, couch pushed askew, the landline dangling from its cord, the edge of the carpet flipped over as if someone had run over it. Bucky rushed to check the rest of the house, the bedrooms, the washroom—he even checked the lake. Nothing.

He went back to the living room, senses dialed to the maximum. There was no sign of a forced entry, and though a scuffle was apparent, there were no prints or marks that indicated there had been another person. Unless they covered their tracks. But then why leave the carpet overturned, the couch askew? Why make it obvious something had happened?

Perhaps Bucky was overthinking, and Baby Girl had run to the store to grab something. She had already proved herself to be impulsive and clumsy. It wouldn't be a huge stretch to believe she forgot to lock the door behind her in a hurry.

Except, she wouldn't have left without her wallet. Bucky bent down to grab her purse from under the coffee table, feeling dread engulf him at the sight. Palms sticky and breaths uneven, he looked around the room once more. This time, he noticed something he hadn't before, a hastily scribbled note peeking out from under the landline.

Bucky snatched the note, careful not to crease it.

"I'm sorry," it began. "I had no choice. He has the boys." 

Bucky's mind began to race with questions. Most namely, "Where?"

It was then that his senses picked up on something new. The faint scent of smoke. Bucky dropped the note and ran out the back, scanning the horizon. There, on the opposite side of the lake, a thick column of smoke billowed from behind the treeline. The beginnings of a large fire. Baby Girl's house was set ablaze, glowing brightly in the dark. Bucky's heart dropped to his stomach, and he ran.

Note: So... I lied. There will need to be another part.

Ao3│Wattpad│Ko-fi

Main Masterlist │Part 1 — Part 2 — Part 3

Comments and Reblogs are appreciated!! 💜

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[kisskissbanggang]

Trick or treat, it's zombie apocalypse and one by one all of us get bitten... Which makes everyone confess their feelings 😏 (poly/ot8 x reader???)

(a very overdue) TRICK OR TREAT

((STOPPPPPPPP this is amazing omfg and i am SO SORRY I'M LATE OH MY GOD hope you enjoy though!!)) Are you getting a trick, a treat, or something freakier? Take a look and find out 🧡

[OT8 x Reader - NSFW/Smut - Sex Zombies, Night Clubs, Bites and Blood, Infected with Lust, Animalistic Behavior]

If you lived to see the light of day, you were going to strangle Hyunjin, because this was an actual nightmare. All you wanted was to meet his friend, Jeongin, at the Halloween party happening at your favorite nightclub.

The whole vibe of the club was off from the start, too, which didn't help anything. It was really a disaster from the moment you and Hyunjin got out of your ride. A hand on the back of your thigh made you jump, and resulted in your friend blushing deep crimson when he briskly explained that the slit on your sultry vampire costume had ridden up your leg, almost revealing an entire ass cheek. You were mortified, fixing your dress and using the compact mirror Hyunjin held up for you so that you could make sure your makeup and hair wasn't a mess, too. On top of that, some screaming jerk almost bowled you over when you finally got to the door after waiting twenty minutes in line.

Nightclubs were stupid, but the worst part hadn't even arrived yet. All you wanted, you kept repeating to yourself, was to meet Hyunjin's cute friend, Jeongin.

And he was there alright... Him, and apparently every guy you hooked up with over the past two years. You wished the ground would swallow you whole and spit up your bones. What a disaster.

Except the disaster hadn't even begun yet.

You were no stranger to random chaos at the club, but something felt decidedly wrong. Witnessing a thrown drink would be one thing, but it was wild to see the thrower of said drink next pounce onto the offending man. You could have sworn you heard her growl but you convinced yourself that it was a sound effect played by the DJ. It would quickly become more impossible to ignore how weird things were getting, though. The growls continued, a reverberating undercurrent throughout the nightclub that soon gave way to snarls and screams. Hyunjin and you swallowed a couple shots of tequila, and you wondered if that was what caused you to think you saw blood all over a guy that was getting dragged off the dance floor by his friends.

Something was very wrong.

You were about to suggest to Hyunjin that you hit up the bar down the street, but when you turned to look at him, he'd gone pale. Following his gaze caused you to gasp. Blocking your path to the exit, a girl was tackled by two other girls you could've sworn she was dancing with a few minutes ago... but something interesting had developed. Something you hadn't noticed before. Yes, the scuffle was visceral... but these girls were also hooking up. Right in front of the fucking bar.

And when they noticed you and Hyunjin gawking at them, they were immediately drawn to you. Hyunjin was already yanking you away from the action, but it was too late. One of the girls lunged at you, and you screamed as you felt her latch onto your wrist with her teeth. Hyunjin kicked her off, trying to find anywhere to run when you realized the club was overrun by the horny undead. Down the back hallway, you pushed open a bathroom but found the door struggling to swing all the way. Your friend shouldered his way in front of you to help, his undersold strength surprising you as he shoved his shoulder into the door and went tumbling in.

You barely had a chance to catch your breath when the door lurched again behind you, and you and Hyunjin struggled with it until a familiar face showed up in the doorway.

"Changbin?!" you breathed in relief.

Out of all the guys you recognized in the club tonight, you were happy to see Changbin. A sweet guy you met up with at a Super Bowl party you'd both been dragged to earlier in the year, he was actually incredibly kind and hot. He was also admirably decent, slurring obscenities in the middle of your hook-up when he realized you were both too drunk to consent. He'd paid for your ride, kissed your hand before accidentally shoving you inside the car, and ran off to go puke in a bush before he could give you his number.

"Hey," he grinned in return, thankful as you opened the door and let him in. He grabbed the heavy trash can from its spot beside the counter and shoved it under the door handle. This was great.

However.

This was also when you realized you weren't alone.

"Hyunjin?!" came a concerned voice. Hyunjin's attention snapped in the direction of his name.

"Jeongin!"

Your gaze reluctantly creaked over to reveal that, yes, you were trapped in a nightclub bathroom with Hyunjin and his cute friend... and Changbin... and--

Oh no.

Every guy you recognized out on the dance floor, they were all here.

Besides Jeongin was Minho, hanging out against the back wall. Maybe they worked together? Minho was stunningly handsome, but he was too cavalier for your liking. Your frankly unbelievably romantic weekend devolved into a series of confusing text messages and a week later, when you sent him a message sharing your concern over starting something serious, he simply replied with, "Okay." You'd waited for him to say anything else... and that turned into an indefinite wait. Presently, Hyunjin jumped when you tried shoving yourself behind him...

Which also wasn't safe, because Seungmin was there, tucked into the corner behind the door. You were going to lose your damn mind. Seungmin was frustratingly hot, but he was too married to his job. He ghosted you three times after a spontaneous hook-up after a networking event, and you promptly deleted his number from your phone. He blushed when you made eye contact, but you both refused to say a word to each other.

And of fucking course, Chan was here, too, peeking out from one of the stalls. You actually had to call that one off all on your own. Chan was simply too nice, like, overbearingly so. He didn't like to decide where to eat, he didn't like to be the one to pick where to go out on dates, and he didn't dare breathe a negative opinion no matter how much you begged for an honest one. While you felt like an idiot now, you couldn't handle Chan at the time.

Then there was Jisung and Felix, the couple who drafted you as their unicorn and promptly tossed you out once they started arguing over your (admittedly amazing) threesome. They were currently huddled into the back corner, beaming at you from where they sat by Jeongin and Minho.

"Well, isn't this hilarious," Hyunjin giggled behind you. Your friend nudged your ribs and helped you finally move your feet to make you hunker down in the back of the bathroom. "Jeongin, I didn't think you'd make it. Did I introduce you to--"

"We met," you interrupted, smiling shyly to Jeongin as you eased yourself to sit down on the grimy tile floor.

"I bet you did," Minho quipped. Hyunjin leaned over and punched him in the shoulder, settling down beside you and getting a protective arm around you. As much as he was going to make fun of you, you were thankful that he was still looking out for you.

Maybe this was going to be fine, you assured yourself. The cops would be called and the club would be cleared out, and you would be saved. And then maybe you could figure out the bite on your arm from that monster out in the bar. You were so warm. The smell of Hyunjin's cologne was making you dizzy.

Except, of course, this was when the power cut out in the bathroom. You felt even warmer now. There was some shuffling, assumedly from people rearranging in the chaos of the overwhelming darkness.

"I'm sorry for never texting you back, by the way," Minho apologized through the abyss. "I was going through some stuff but that's no excuse."

"It's fine," you reassured him, trying not to let your voice waver. "Did you see anything out there before you came in here?"

"Not really," came Minho's voice. "I just saw some shit brewing out there and ran for it. Did I tell you that you look amazing tonight?"

"I saw something," came another voice. Seungmin. "I swear. I saw a guy all over his boyfriend while they were scratching each other to shit. It was fucked up. Minho's right, by the way. You look great."

"... And?" you asked, prompting him to continue.

"... And I'm sorry I bailed on our date."

"Dates," you corrected.

"What? No," Seungmin stubbornly argued, "we had two reschedules for one date..."

"And you bailed on all of three," you shrugged, when a tingle between your shoulders made you jump. "Who's touching me?"

"Sorry," Jeongin squeaked. "I was nervous."

You blushed, but you hardly took it as a sign to stop him. Jeongin's fingers traced little shapes on your back. Somewhere in the pitch black, you could've sworn that you heard a growl. Outside, groans and moans filled the cramped hallway.

And in the back of the bathroom, you heard a scream.

"Jisung!" Felix yelped. "I said to wait until we get home!"

"Mmph, but, baby," Jisung rasped, with a gravelly tone in his throat that made your spine melt. "I can't wait, I need you now."

Back on your side of the bathroom, you all clung onto each other in a pile, terrified yet undeniably intrigued. "Did anyone else see those things biting people?" you sheepishly asked everyone assembled on either side of you. At your other shoulder, Hyunjin was nervously rubbing your arm where he was holding you.

"Yeah," Hyunjin answered, his frown audible. "A guy bit my shoulder when I was trying to make a run for it. Sorry I didn't say anything. I just wanted to get you off the dance floor."

"Are you feeling as warm as I am?" you reluctantly probed him. Across the bathroom, Felix made some sort of garbled noise, and Jisung plainly growled. Chan and Changbin were near them, guessing by the way that they groaned in reaction. You grabbed onto Jeongin and Hyunjin, hooking each of your arms through theirs. Jeongin's skin was raised in goosebumps. Your heart pounded in your ears. At the nape of your neck, a bead of sweat dripped down your spine.

Hyunjin's arm tensed under your fingertips. "Yeah," he choked out, his throat run dry. "I'm feeling really hot."

"You look really hot," you replied, almost offhand. What the hell were you even thinking? The most you'd ever been attracted to Hyunjin was that time he humored you and went to a ballroom lesson with you when a date bailed on you.

"So do you," Hyunjin eagerly agreed, and he used his arm around your shoulder to pull you into a kiss. Against any rational judgement, you responded in kind, kissing him ravenously. Jeongin seemed to notice what was happening by now, the way he curiously leaned in closer and didn't resist when you and Hyunjin pulled him closer to smother him in kisses as well.

"I dunno why," you panted, gasping as you realized a hand landed on your knee, "but ever since that girl bit me, I've been so turned on..."

"Me too," came Seungmin's voice in the dark, his hand apparently the one on your leg. "It was actually a bouncer that bit me. Did I tell you that you look amazing tonight?"

"Out of the fucking way," Minho rudely interjected, his lips brushing your knee. "You're not the only one who got bit."

It was hard to tell who eventually won out and pushed your cute costume up around your hips, but whoever it was wasn't the only one tugging at your panties. You aided the grasping hands trying to get a piece of you, yanking the thin garment down around your ankles. Someone ended up shoving the other men around you out of the way long enough to settle against you between your hips. Judging by his physique, by the way his hair felt when you ran your fingers through it, the way his cologne hit your nose, you realized it might actually be Jeongin. The first thrust almost made you melt into the floor in a sticky puddle. The warmth in your chest and stomach was practically boiling by now. If your brain was capable of processing any coherent thoughts, you could enjoy actually getting to hook up with Jeongin like you wanted in the first place.

You were pulled back and laid out, sort of using Hyunjin's lap as a pillow as he was also being pawed at by the other men hiding out in the bathroom with you. One thrust inside of you gave way to dozens more, and you were delirious to a point that you could barely tell when someone got off of you and made room for someone else.

"I'm fucking burning up," you heard Changbin gruffly complain before he took a turn in between your legs. "Glad we could finish what we started..."

If you came once, you came over and over again, reducing you to a half-conscious heap of sheer orgasmic bliss. It didn't matter if the power was out; you weren't even opening your eyes anyway. At some point, you were pulled onto Seungmin's lap to ride him before you were tugged back onto the floor when Chan got his hands on you.

"God damn," Chan grunted into your shoulder as his hips jerked haphazardly against your own. "We could've kept doing this, you know. We didn't have to stop seeing each other altogether."

You would've slammed him with some sort of clever retort if you were even capable of coming up with one. At some point in the madness, Felix ended up sprawled out beside you. From what you could hear, it sounded as though maybe he and Hyunjin were becoming thoroughly acquainted. Minho pulled Chan off of you to get his own taste of him, judging from the two squabbling before their agitated noises descended into desperate groans. Jisung climbed on top of you then, feeling just as good as you remembered.

"Felix and I have been talking, by the way," he croaked in your ear. "We'd love to try things out again."

"He means it," Felix reassured you from where you both lay on the gross tile floor. "I made sure he told you before just asking you out again."

Yeah. If you lived to see the light of day, you were going to kill Hyunjin.

And, as if on cue, the bathroom door slammed open. You were momentarily blinded by flashlights, but soon you were overwhelmed by gloved hands and barking orders. The glimpse you caught of the dance floor revealed a scene of carnage and bodily fluids, making you thankful that your small pod of zombies never turned violent. A non-gentle pair of hands hauled you into an ambulance and you caught sight of yourself in the reflection of a cabinet--hair drenched in sweat, your face flushed down to your chest, and your eyes impossibly bloodshot. The medics kept asking you questions but all you could think about was how empty you were between your legs.

You were surprisingly bashful when Jeongin got pushed into the medical transport beside you. He apparently felt the same, not making eye contact but setting his hand on yours to create some comfort for both of you. The two of you shared a nice little moment, holding hands on the gurney while you pondered how to safely replicate what just took place in the nightclub bathroom with your friends, now that you all got to know each other a little better.

[jokingpanda-main]

I wrote a short fluff story for Shane's birthday. @mongoosingisme inspired me with her recent angst short. Lex is my farmers name :3

Birthday fic - established relationship. Rated T -suggestive themes ~

Shane was... actually looking forward to his birthday this year. Which was wild. Not even a few months ago he had been considering the unspeakable and now. Now he wanted to know what his girlfriend had in store for him.

All week she had been close-lipped about her plans. Just told him to be available for dinner and keep his night free. Shit, he would've kept his whole day free for her if she asked but she brought up the fact that Jas would want to spend the morning with him. Of course, she was right.

It wasn't like it was a chore to spend time with his goddaughter but he couldn't help but feel a sense of shame in him when he looked at her. She was so smart and mature for her age, which made him feel worse. Jas should be able to play without worry as a child but he knew that his messy life had traumatized her.

Shane wanted to question his late friends decision to make him her godfather but remembered his therapist telling him those lines of thoughts would make him spiral. So, with a deep breath, he turned his attention back to Jas.

-

It was a couple of hours later when Lex finally messaged him: she was ready. Shane was a little anxious about this evening. He had changed clothes twice and messed with his hair until he gave up. The mirror told him lies and so, every time Lex came over she would leave him sticky notes.

One read, "You're handsome." He snorted in disbelief but seeing it in her handwriting did make his heart lighter. He traced over the words on another, "your eyes are my favorite color." A small smile quirked his lips as he shook his head. His eye color had never been something he paid much attention to, but since she said it, it's harder not to.

He lightly slapped his face with both hands, "enough, let's go." He nodded to himself, nerves still fluttering in his belly.

-

Shane arrived with his palms sweaty, a knock on the door and there she was. His beautiful girlfriend. His eyes went wide as he saw her outfit, his face flushing red as he quickly closed the door behind him. He covered his mouth as he stood dumbstruck.

Lex was wearing nothing but a red ribbon. It left little to the imagination and Shane was both awed and incredibly turned on, but he was also questioning his luck. What on earth did he do to deserve this woman?

She gave him a cheeky smile, pleased by his reaction, "well? Aren't you going to unwrap your present?"

He groaned as she turned around to show him the full picture, "You're killing me baby." He muttered before pulling her towards him by her hip. Her joyful giggle made his heart swell with affection.

"What did I do to deserve such a priceless treasure?" He whispered against her ear and she responded with a soft sigh.

"You stayed." She whispered, and it made his heart ache. To think that if he had succeeded that night... he shook the thought away. It didn't matter now, not with her in his arms.

With a squeal from Lex, Shane swept her off her feet and carried her towards the bedroom. "I intend to take my time with my gift, especially since my girlfriend put so much.... thought into it."

His wolfish grin and sudden confidence thrilled Lex. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and sent a wink to you over his shoulder. Her lips kissed the sides of his neck making him walk faster, the door slamming shut behind them.

As the door clicked in place, Shane had never imagined he would be wanted like this, to be chosen. For the first time in years, he was starting to believe he was worth it.

[exy-conspiracies]

Okay so. This might be pushing it but. In light of everything that happened recently.

Was Seth Gordon's death actually an accident?

as a reminder, because I know most people didn't care about the Foxes until a few weeks ago: Seth Gordon was part of the Foxes' lineup at the beginning of this year as a striker. he died not long after the beginning of the season, apparently from an overdose.

I know this sounds crazy okay? But. Hear me out.

The final last week was fucking wild, and I don't care what you guys saw at home, but I was there at Edgar Allan and I fucking saw Riko trying to murder Neil!! With my own two eyes!!!

And I think we all remember when Kevin decided to just go "I've never been skying" on live television, while implying it was (1) the Ravens' fault and (2) done on purpose (!!).

I know we never got an answer as to what actually happened, and honestly now that Riko is dead I don't think we ever will. (cause you know, don't speak ill of the dead and everything) (i will be speaking ill of the dead here, consider yourselves warned)

but honestly. after last week? I think I've got a pretty good idea what happened.

and that's without even getting into the complete, messy, foggy situation around Jean Moreau.

So, I know this is technically its own theory, but my mind is already made on this, so that's not what I actually want to offer for consideration.

My point is:

At the beginning of the year, Kevin and Riko saw each other again for the first time in public (maybe at all?) since Kevin left the Ravens. Neil was a complete ass to Riko's face (which makes a lot more sens in hindsight).

and like the next day a Fox was dead.

Is that a coincidence???

are we ready to argue it's a coincidence, after everything we've learned?

Riko looses the championship and tries to murder Neil. Kevin is a better striker than Riko so Riko breaks his hand (allegedly).

that sounds like exactly the kind of person that would try to get back at someone insulting him on live TV (and keeping him from Kevin, now that I know, it's so obvious what Neil was doing). and since Neil is untouchable, cause, you know, gangster father, he goes after another one of the Foxes.

I know it sounds crazy okay? I'm only half convinced myself. hurting someone in anger is different from premeditating a fucking overdose.

(or did Riko just go batshit on him and then they somehow managed to disguise it as an overdose??? i feel like that's even crazier)

and like, Seth had an history of drugs and overdoses. as the media reminded us at length when he died. so it's not like him dying from an overdose is suspicious in itself.

But the timing!

the timing is hella suspicious is what i'm saying.

Anyway, I'm sending this anonymously cause Ravens' fans are fucking insane, but please tell me what you think of this!!

.

[profounddefendorcrusade-blog]

I feel bad for Starlo. (pt. 8)

The FF could have just told him how they felt years ago if this "damaged personality" started as soon as the Wild East came to be (which now I think only happened after Clover showed up... so... for a few hours. For a few hours was Starlo's personality "damaged"). Star is the type who'd give up anything for his loved ones, even his biggest dream. Ceroba didn't have to pretend all this time and lie to him to make him feel better (we know this whole Wild East thing often annoys her though she tries to hide it).

His friends just spilled the truth to him when he was at his most emotionally damaged (after they admitted that they didn't like or appreciate his efforts, he STARTED to break), then decided to leave him all alone. And you wonder why he cracked. And you wonder why he tried to kill Clover. Because the kid represented everything you all were shaming him for, for no reason other than he was too passionate for your taste, too willing to feel important, too hurt to face the truth of feeling like a nobody. And you were not willing to understand.

this is what ultimately broke him

No one tried to ask, "Hey Star, you doing okay? Need some help? What's about Clover you admire so much?" No, they just leave. Feisty Four, you could have quit this job long ago and gone home (but apparently they DO like the job since the gang doesn't split up; in other words it took them less than 1 day to give up on Starlo until he came to beg them for forgiveness.. sigh).

[tsunflowers]

"bitch: on the female of the species" by lucy cooke is a fascinating read with a great cover as well

for as many wild animal anecdotes as I've posted these past few days there's ten times as many in the book. the breadth of insane behaviors in the animal kingdom is astonishing. turns out both male and female animals are doing some crazy shit to get laid, and also the boundary between what constitutes a "male" and "female" animal is not as clear cut as certain people would want you to believe

ms cooke argues that the famous charlie darwin wrote his implicit biases into his theory of sexual selection and his contemporaries and immediate successors were even worse, which caused the entire field of evolutionary biology to be trapped in a male-centric paradigm until like 50 years ago. when female scientists started studying female animals they discovered that sexual selection is a give and take where female animals evolve traits just as rapidly as males, and in fact some of the basic assumptions about evolution being taught in text books were just bullshit. ms cooke interviews some of these pioneering female scientists as well as people working today to correct the male bias that has pervaded the field. the truth is female topi antelope are the ones locking horns in epic fights over males, clownfish socially transition before their body finishes changing, and there are many female songbirds that sing. the world is so much weirder and more exciting than the lazy science of the previous century would have you believe

two notes. she says of the islands of Hawaii that since they are so new on a geological time scale "little life, least of all human, can claim to be truly native." this is true but the native Hawaiian people have it rough and I don't think it helps anyone to be like "well they didn't evolve there." also she definitely criticizes the work of the trans female scientist she interviews more than any of the cis women, or that was my impression. it's not hostile or anything but there was a subtle vibe. I wish that in her book about radical female scientists shaking up gendered assumptions she had not been like "this trans woman is probably the most radical of them all... I'll let you decide if that's good or bad"

[bellesdreamyprofile]

chapter 12 - 1953

previous part

ELVIS PRESLEY

There's so many things you can do to feel something. To feel alive. Buzzy smokes, his cousin works in construction and Paul steals from the local bakery. That's what they did to feel something. That's what they did to feel alive.

And there I was in front of Sam Phillips' studio wondering the same thing. What can I do to feel that something? What can I do to feel alive? And why have my feet carried me right here?

In reality it was Cece who brought me here. Cece's letters made me think about life, about relationships and about my dreams. What can I do to feel that something? What can I do to feel alive?

Sing.

"I'm sorry, honey, but Sam ain't here this week."

"Ma'am, I-I promise I sound good."

Marion Keisker was Sam's assistant at Sun Records. She was a relatively short lady with big, chunky glasses framing her face. Her short, blond locks complimented her features. One thing I knew about Marion is that she could easily be bribed with a few pastries. Which Paul stole just this morning.

I pulled out two pastries I had wrapped in a napkin. "I bought them just for you, ma'am. I know you liked these.", I hoped the glimmer in my eyes and my knowing smile didn't throw her off.

She raised an eyebrow and sheepishly took the pastries from my hold. "How'd you know these are my favorites?", she asked and bit into the cream-filled sweet.

I shrugged and looked away. "Wild guess.", she hummed as if she knew something I didn't and turned around to grab a pen.

"Alright, darling, you've convinced me.", Marion grabbed her notebook and looked at me. "Full name?"

"Elvis Presley.", as I answered I felt my heart skip a beat. As if it felt some sort of connection to the dream I had all those years ago.

Marion looked up again. "What kind of singer are you?"

What kind of singer was I?

"I sing all kinds.", her lips parted at my answer. 

"Well... Who do you sound like?", she gave me a tight lipped smile. 

There was no way my answer wouldn't sound cocky. I wasn't particularly confident, but I was sure of what I was about to say. "I don't sound like nobody."

Marion's lips parted, her eyes wandered on my figure and then back on my face. I felt a shiver down my spine at the unfamiliarity. "I'm gonna write down good ballad singer.", she finally replied and I watched as she scribbled down the words on the small sheet of paper. I doubt Sam was ever gonna see anything written on that small thing.

"I have my own song.", she turned around as she straightened her back.

"You do?", I nodded and pulled out Cece's letter from my pocket.

"Well, I-I wasn't the one who wrote it, ma'am.", I frantically explained. "My best friend wrote it and she allowed me to sing it."

"You got an original.", she thought out loud and then moved her gaze on my letter. "May I?", I blinked in confusion until I realized she wanted to take a look at the lyrics.

I handed the sheet of paper to her. "Of course.", I watched the lady's eyes wander on every word and then go back to reread it again. It seemed forever until she spoke up.

"You think you can play it right now? I won't be recording it, but just so I know who I'm working with.", she looked up and my heart skipped a beat at her words.

I obviously agreed without thinking about it twice. "S-Sure, ma'am."

"Grab a guitar darling and I'm all ears." 

CECE MARTIN

The reason my mama found the courage to leave my daddy seemed to be because he had another family. I don't have vivid memories of any moment in particular, but I do remember that sensation. It's like the betrayal lingered in the air and stayed there until someone actually did something. 

Certainly, the only way to fix their problems seemed to be by shouting nonsense and occasionally throwing vases at each other. And then my daddy would leave without calling anyone for days with my mama worrying to death. I remember he once showed up two weeks later, saying he stayed at his cousin's place. A cousin even my mama knew nothing of. Despite the obvious lie my mama bought for truth, he came back, stayed and left again. We were both used to that kind of process. It became a routine.

Then at some point he never came back.

Staying in California with his new family made me remember something I thought was lost in the back of my brain. Maybe it was the bad weather outside that triggered that memory or perhaps the familiar smell.

"Naomi, for the love of god, stop being such a bitch all the time.", from the safety of my room I heard my daddy's voice calling over my stepmother's.

"How can't I be if I don't know what you're up to?"

I heard footsteps near my room, though my thumping heart was louder. "I said it's just work. Take it or leave it."

"It's not just work if you're out past seven, John."

And that was when I heard it.

The smash of a glass bottle. It didn't take me a long time to come to the realization that it was alcohol what my father had just destroyed.

"John! The kids!"

Naomi's tone didn't falter. I imagined her standing up to my daddy's manipulative actions and I admired her. After her exclamation it was like my brain had shut down. The room started spinning and my ears started creating a beeping noise. I walked up to my bed, sat down and pressed my hands to my forehead. My eyes forcefully shut at the sudden pain I was feeling all over my body. 

And that was when I heard the hunting words that my brain seemed to have purposely forgotten.

"I have a better family waiting for me."

"I have a better wife who will look after me."

"I have better children who will love me."

"Cece?", I shuddered at the sudden physical touch. I opened my eyes and found Naomi kneeling in front of me and Matilda's hand on my shoulder. Their eyes showed nothing other than worry and affection, but all I could focus on was the pungent smell of alcohol. Probably from the same bottle my father destroyed moments ago. My eyes closed again as I tried to focus on my breathing pattern.

"It's all okay, honey."

"No one can hurt you."

That was all I could make out. My eyes watered as I felt utterly hopeless for reasons I wasn't even at fault for. I didn't make a mistake, I didn't disappoint nobody. And I was crying.

"Listen carefully, Cece.", I looked down and noticed the seriousness in my stepmother's eyes. She grasped both of my hands and squeezed them. "I love you like one of my own, honey, never forget that, okay?", I nodded as I pressed my lips together to muffle my cries.

"This environment hasn't done you any good a-and I'm afraid it's not gonna get any better.", one of her hands delicately brushed away my tears. "Tomorrow you'll be back to your mama in Memphis.", my hand untangled from hers as I pressed it against my mouth. Naomi's hand brushed my hair, trying to calm me down.

"I called her a week ago and she can't wait to have you back, darling.", through my blurry sight I noticed her own eyes filling up with tears.

"A mother's pain is something that can't be compared to anything in this world.", she continued and lowered her gaze. "I regret not stopping John the day he tore you away from her, I really do— believe me Cece.", my head fell on her shoulder and that was when she took me in her arms.

"I love the little lady you've grown into, honey.", she whispered. "You'll see, everyone will be so happy to see you, yes?"

She pulled away, letting Matilda wrap an arm around my shoulder. Her mother looked at me with a small smile.

"You're going home, honey."

A/N: thank you for reading. love you all so much <3

index chapter 13

[lu-daycare-au]

Hello!!!! I first saw this AU a little while ago, and I like it! Seeing the chain as kids is adorable, but I have some questions.

Is the daycare just owned by Time and Malon? Are there other workers? Are there any other kids?

Why are some of the kids so old (7+)? It's probabaly a cultural difference, but even though daycare is pretty rare—most just enroll in kindergarden—from what I've seen, they usually quit before school starts? Which is at 5/6 years old here.

How old are the adults? Who are the adults outside of Malon and Time? I think you've mentioned Warriors being one of them, but I could have missed something too.

Any info on the Zelda's? You've mentioned that they'll join the daycare, but will all of them be kids? Will there be new workers when they join to help?

Not a question but the villains helping out is hilarious, I need that in my life🙏

You mentioned that Legend knew Marin (unless I read Malon wrong, which is a good possibility); how? Was she maybe a neighbor he was close to, before she moved away?

Any side characters, and do they know the Links? For example: Ravio, Four's dad from the manga, etc. Adults, kids, elders?

Do the kids have proper parents? Are they still alive, are they maybe being taken care of by another family member, or a foster/adopted?

Any familial relationships outside of Wild and Twi? I think you've mentioned one more, but I don't remember😭

Are you ever planning on writing full on stories and/or comics of sorts?

Can I try writing using your AU? I don't want to promise I will—esp since I don't really have experience writing so young kids—but I think it would be fun.

Sorry that it's a bit much, or if stuff I asked is alr answered😭 You don't need to answer all, Esp if it's something you want to keep more as a secret until you reveal it. Still, I like your AU, and hope I can see more of it one day😊

oh jeez big ask ok. I can do this. Uh. Keep in mind I like started this as a half joke, and that I really don’t know what I’m doing that much?? Just a psa. This is all for fun!! You don’t have to look to far into it-

I didn't really think this all through, but I think it's like a small business that Malon had started. There are a few workers here and there but Malon wanted to interact with the kids, probably helps with advertising ig?? idk-- There are other kiddos, (prob some of the sages and such,) I just focused on the chain as the main focus since it is a LU au.

Ok, for this there is a reason kind of, I used to go to after school care and like, there was a spread of ages there. I might be dumb and uh, used daycare and afterschool care as interchangeable, my research was limited and confusing, also it said that some kids (6&7) do go to daycare. My bad for the confusion though-

Malon and Time are in their mid to late thirties. Also, Wars is Wind’s brother, Wars is like, pre-teens/teens. I think it was explained partly in Wind’s part of the master post but I could be wrong?

Oh boy the zeldys. Some of them are kids but I think it would be funny if some of them actually worked at the daycare. I’m not sure but now I kinda wanna see it lol.

Ganon just looking pissed off as the kids cause carnage and he can’t do anything about it lmao.

Bingo!! Good job, you are correct in that statement. She was his crush and bestie and he’s still salty about it, even though they literally video call on the weekends. Bonus points if she just moved to a neighboring city that’s only 20 min away. I think my man legend is just dramatic like that lol.

yeah def!! I just haven’t figured it all out yet, I’m doing like 15 other side projects and such, but i have written down ideas when i get them.

each kid has a different family situation going on, I’ll elaborate sometime when i get the chance.

Wars and Wind being brothers. (You can thank a certain artist for that…)

I’m not sure, i had made a draft for like, a chapter 1 thing but I don’t really like it. I might just have random little things and if a plot ends up happening, it happens.

ofc!!! Just be sure to tag me so I can see it!! Also to help with writing for kiddos, think about how they still have stuff to learn, but that they can be wiser than they look. That’s generally how I think about it.

I’ll answer your other ask in a moment, but thank you sm for this!! I’m always happy to answer questions :)

have a good rest of the day!

[octoagentmiles]

Headcanons about Paani and Natquik's relationship and how they met? 👀

uh well actually ik it's kinda wild n out there but I headcanon they met like this:

/s /lh fhdhdjdbsk sorry I'm not 100% sure what you want from me here?? 😅

but!! as for their relationship—at the end of that ep Paani says he's going to stay with Natquik for a little while, so that they can continue to study the flowing water that they found together, but we never actually get to see this ourselves. so!! it's extremely possible that Paani and Natquik are buddy-buddy now, but we just haven't gotten to see them interact since their friendship started!!

so 👀. some hcs 🤲 ↓

474637942749 years ago I made a post talking about how while yes, Paani is obviously a lot like Kwazii, he also has just as much in common with Barnacles. it's just more subtle.

I think that during their time together, Natquik probably would've picked up on that. Natquik's been alone for forever, and has been shown struggling when he's forced to share private space with others—but I think once he started to notice Paani's similarities to Barnacles, he became an infinitely more tolerable roommate.

... however.

one of Natquik's biggest grievances with Red (*the red fox) was how he ruined what would've been his "peaceful and quiet" vacation.

and. um.

... that's not exactly Paani's specialty.

so they likely had to get used to each other's *style* the hard way at first.

Paani's not the type to intentionally start conflict, or even get outwardly annoyed with others (from what we've seen so far anyway). he's very easygoing, and even if it confuses him, I can see him accepting the way Natquik works pretty quickly.

but he does have a habit of doing things without asking first, or considering how his actions may indirectly affect others before doing them, in the name of The Greater Good™ (such as stealing the GUP-H so he could bring water to the elephants). the Octonauts can forgive him easily, because he *does* usually end up saving the day,

but. uh.

Natquik's not as chill (ironically) with that.

so!! it's sorta less of them having to get used to each other, and more Natquik having to get used to Paani lol

Paani absolutely ended up meeting Natquik's penguin fam while he was staying with him, and they immediately loved him (as all birds he meets do), which GREATLY helped Natquik warm up to him.

maybe they also told Paani about how Natquik's just having a hard time, 'cause of how long he spent alone. and Paani, who was alone for an indefinite length of time himself, until he was found by the Octonauts... decides to open up to Natquik.

they talk for a bit.

then Boom! Friendship™ 🌠🌈 [INSERT CONFETTI CANONS 🎉🥳] !!

okay there was probably more to it than that, but we don't know how LONG they were roomies for—could've been only a few days, or a month, max, knowing Paani's dislike of staying put for too long lmao.

either way, I'd love to see them meet again, after having gotten to know each other. I think they'd make a really cool dynamic, if they were to go out on a real adventure or mission together. they MET in that episode, but they didn't really interact much—Paani was on his own, and Natquik was with Dashi in the Octoray.

and Natquik desperately needs more screentime anyway 👁️👁️