#yeah it’s not looking good for you buddy

[no-144444]

the grid: when they admit they love you!

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

featuring: Oscar Piastri, Lando Norris, Lewis Hamilton, George Russell, Alex Albon, Franco Colapinto, Logan Sargeant, Daniel Riccardo, Liam Lawson, Charles LeClerc, Carlos Sainz, Arthur LeClerc, Ollie Bearman, Max Verstappen, Paul Aron, Jack Doohan.

this is 18+ so mdni please! smut in some of them!

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

Oscar Piastri: fumbling and scared 

You sat at the reception of McLaren, and every single day he was terrified of making a fool of himself. You were the cool, pretty receptionist he’d already gone on 3 dates with, and this Friday he was going to ask you to officially be his girlfriend. The conversation between you two flowed easily when it was just you two, but with other people there… he was less than smooth. Your desk mate, the other receptionist had a knack for gossip, and she was kind of scary, she he tried to steer clear of her when he could. 

“Morning,” you smiled as he walked in the door. 

“Morning,” he smiled back, leaning on your desk. “How are you?”

You started signing him into the building (he ‘lost’ his access card months ago, aka he threw it away and didn’t try to get a new one, just so he could have some reason to talk to you). “I’m good, looking forward to Friday,” you smiled. “You?”

He beamed, grinning like a kid. “Me too.”

“Oscar!” Chris (the guy who has the biggest crush on you ever) clapped a hand on his back, much too hard. “Buddy, I got you a new access-card! Now you can stop bothering the pretty lady here, right?”

“Chris, it’s no bother, I do it every morning-” you tried to diffuse the situation. You didn’t exactly want Osccar to have to deal with Chris, he was such an asshole.  

“Yeah, but it’s one less thing off your plate baby,” he winked at you and Oscar felt something twist in his stomach when you grimaced at the pet name. 

“Don’t call her that,” he told him. “She has a name, it’s Y/n. Use her name.” 

“Dude, I know you wouldn’t get it, but some people date other people,” Chris chuckled like a scumbag. “And me and her are together, so back off.”

Oscar laughed. He actually laughed in your co-workers face. “You’re funny, man.”

Chris laughed along. “I know right.” 

Oscar took the access card from him, leaned over the desk and pressed his lips to yours, like he’d done many times before, and carried on to his meetings. Chris stood there shocked, then walked back to his desk like a wounded puppy. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

Friday rolled around and you were both sat on his couch watching Cars, when he turned to you. “I’m sorry about Monday,” he admitted. “I know it wasn’t the right thing to do and it probably made it worse but I just-”

“It worked,” you told him. “He hasn’t spoken to me all week, but he has been trying to report you to HR for me, but every time he does I just tell them I didn’t make the claim and then report Chris for being weird. It worked perfectly. He’s such a dick,” you chuckled. 

He watched you as you chuckled, the way your nose scrunched, the flyaway hairs on your forehead framing your face, your soft lips, you gorgeous eyes. “I love you,” he said, softly, but you looked up with wide-eyes all the same. He’d shocked himself too. “OHmygodIamsosorryIknowit’swaytooearlyand-”

You just started laughing, literally falling into his lap. You laughed against his chest and after a moment, he joined you. 

“You’re such a dork,” you smiled brightly as you ran a hand through his hair, then gently caressed his cheek. “I love you too.”

He beamed. “Can I be your boyfriend?” 

You nodded, then kissed him gently. Cars and a pretty girl as his girlfriend? Could his Friday night get any better? 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

Lando Norris: sweet and sincere (for once)

He watched as you walked from the edge of the water into it, splashing around with Mila. It was your first Norris family holiday, and yeah, maybe he had lied to you and told you it would just be you two to trick you into meeting his family only 5 months into your relationship. Maybe you were super mad at him to the point of barely speaking to him unless in the group. But also, maybe Lando was watching the love of his life play with his niece, and maybe he didn’t care that he’ just called you that. 

“Lala!” Mila called, running up to him. “I really like Y/n, can we keep her?” 

You came up behind her, chuckling lightly at her statement. He stared at you for a moment. You were sunkissed (and a little sunburn on your nose), with a bright smile, wet hair and a beautiful blue swimsuit on. You looked ethereal to him. So stunningly gorgeous that he barely knew what to say. 

“Come on kiddo, let’s grab you a snack,” you picked back up your smile and started to walk over to his sister, sitting under another umbrella with all the snacks and drinks in the world. Lando just stared at you when Mila asked. You’d thought that him inviting you on a family holiday would mean something, you must’ve thought wrong. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

As dinner rolled around, the conversation flowed smoothly as the sun set on the horizon. 

“I’m going to go for a walk on the beach front,” you told the table once meals were finished. They waved you off and off you went. The beautiful sea and stars in the sky caught your attention as your red dress flowed in the wind. It was magical, the warm air, the magnificent views, all of it. The sand beneath your feet was warming your feet and you stopped to look out on the ocean. The soothing, calm waves with the scent of salt made you smile. You’d always loved the beach. 

“You look beautiful,” Lando’s voice made you jump, and you searched for him until you realised he was right beside you. 

“Thank you,” you smiled softly. He wrapped a hand around your waist and turned you to face him. 

He’d been quiet at dinner, too busy trying to think of how to get you to talk to him again, and how he could finally confess his love for you. It was almost overwhelming, the fact that he was in love. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that it was a family trip,” he sighed, pressing a kiss to your cheek. 

You sighed. “It was pretty shitty…” you reminded him. “But I’ve been having fun with them. You come from good people. Makes sense.”

He smiled brightly at your compliment and pressed his forehead against yours. “Thank you for not leaving once you found out.”

You chuckled. “No problem.”

“I adore you,” he admitted. “More than anything. I fucking love you.”

Your eyes widened and you stood there with your jaw dropped. “Holy shit,” you cursed under your breath and he giggled. 

“You don’t have to say it back or anything, I just wanted to tell you,” he clarified, once he’d stopped laughing. 

You smiled at him, chuckling. “I love you too, Lando, of course I do. Even when you do stupid shit like invite me to a family holiday.” 

He laughed, burying his face in your neck. “I already said ‘I’m sorry’!”

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

George Russell: of course…

He smiled as he crossed the finish line, finally  winning another race. 

“Well done George!” his engineer cheered, congratulating him as the garage erupted into celebrations. 

When he was finally out of the car, all interviews were over, and all that was left was to take a few team photos, he was given a moment to seek you out. You’d hugged you at the barricade, but since then he hadn’t seen you. You were busy signing things for fans, little girls who wanted to be ‘just like you’ one day. You smiled and told them they would be, that their dreams of being olympic gymnasts weren’t far-fetched. He smiled, wrapping his arms around you from behind. He was covered in champagne, and you groaned, making the small group of girls laugh. 

“George!” you groaned, pushing him off.

“What?” he smirked, pulling you back in. He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, as the group of girls moved on with a giggle and a wave. “You look stunning.”

“You’re wet,” you dead-panned. “Congratulations, winner.”

He grinned. “I love you.”

You stared at him for a moment, a gentle disbelief in your eyes. “Really?”

“More than anything.”

“Not just because you're drunk on champagne?”

“Nope, I genuinely love you,” he chuckled. “Sorry,” he shrugged, unapologetic. 

You beamed, then kissed him. “I love you more.”

He shook his head. “Not possible.” 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

Kimi Antonelli: nervous 

He smiled as he opened the door to his apartment and found you on the other side. 

“Ready?” you asked, holding up a very big paint can, and some rollers. He had asked you to help him decorate his new apartment, in Monaco, and you’d thankfully agreed. You, his girlfriend / race engineer, had also just moved to Monaco, next door, in fact.

He let you in and you both began to set up the room, tarping the hardwood floors, taping off the skirting boards, and enjoying the soft music and sunny weather outside the window. You finally opened the paint and got to work. He thought you looked adorable, actually wearing paint-splattered overalls (courtesy of you repainting your entire apartment just a week ago), with a concentrated face. His eyes followed you across the room, meticulously taping every inch of the skirting board, making sure that none of the blue paint would ruin the white. 

“What?” you asked, looking back at him. 

He blushed and shook his head, finally understanding the emotions he felt for you everyday. He loved you. “Nothing.”

You raised an eyebrow and walked over, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing a kiss to his lips. “You sure?”

He nodded, much too nervous to tell you. He looked away, pretending to be engrossed in messing with your pockets. 

You shrugged, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Alright,” you let go of him and walked back to the side of the room that you were working on. 

He’d tell you, one day. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

Lewis Hamilton: smooth about it

He smirked as you walked out from your bedroom, clad in one of his shirts and some tiny sleep-shorts, excited about finally sitting down to watch the movie. It had been a difficult triple-header, and he hadn’t been around. But finally, the season was over, and he could invite you over to start enjoying the Christmas festivities. He loved this. He loved the casual, regular things you two did. He liked the way you cuddled up to him on the couch, he loved the way he knew you’d definitely fall asleep before the film ended, he loved you-

Oh.

He loved you. 

He chuckled and you looked at him confused. 

“You alright?” 

He chuckled. “All good baby,” he nodded, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. 

“What was that about?” you questioned further, putting the remote down. He ran a hand through your hair, looking at you with all the love in the world. 

“Just love you,” he shrugged as your jaw dropped. He chuckled, watching a million emotions run through you. 

“You’re such a dick!” you playfully hit him on the shoulder. “I wanted to say it first!”

He laughed and pulled you into his arms, holding you closer. “I’m sorry baby.”

You scoffed. “No you’re not.”

He shook his head. “No I’m not.” 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

Alex Albon: oh… yah. 

He sighed as he opened the door to his driver’s room. He was exhausted, another race down, another weekend closer to the end of this. 

“Hey,” you smiled. 

His mood picked up, knowing you were there. His best friend. “Hey,” he smiled, pulling you into a hug. “I didn’t know you were here.”

“Surprise?” you shrugged. “I wanted to come see you.” 

He smiled, pressing his face into your neck inhaling the smell of your perfume, feeling much more at ease than he did before. “I thought you couldn’t make it today.”

“I did, but I won't be able to be in Qatar or Abu Dhabi,” you admitted, breaking the bad news. You could feel him frown. 

“Why not?”

“I'm busy for the next two weeks with work. Then I have the whole couples retreat thing and then-”

“Pardon? Couples retreat?”

“This guy I’m seeing is saying we should go, I think it’s a swinging thing though, I’m not exactly into it. But non refundable tickets and I would like a holiday before I have to deal with our families all Christmas,” you explained with a chuckle.

His world crumpled around him. “You’re seeing someone?”

You nodded. “Yeah, he’s… nice,” you smiled. “Don’t worry, you won’t be meeting him for a while, he’s not even my boyfriend yet-”

You stopped talking because he’d started kissing you. He hadn’t really connected the dots before. He liked how close your families were, he liked being your best friend, he liked being around you all the time. He liked being the person you’d come to about things. He didn’t like other people liking you. He’d been your personal bodyguard throughout your teenage years, and he had shooed off every guy, just because he was protecting you, right? It had nothing to do with the fact that he wanted both of you to wait and be each other's first kiss, like you’d promised when you were 10. 

Oh shit. He was in love with you. 

He pulled back with wide-eyes. “I’m in love with you.”

You broke out into a smile. “I love you too.”

He grinned like a little kid. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

Franco Colapinto: shy? For once?

He froze as he heard your voice from behind. He hadn’t been home in months, too busy with racing to visit. But Christmas rolled around as it always did, and so did every single family friend. 

“Franco!” his mother’s voice rang out. “Come here!”

He turned and was met with your eyes. He felt himself blushing already.

“Y/n’s here!” she cheered. You offered a small wave and a smile, which he mirrored. 

“It’s good to see you again,” you  smiled. “Happy Holidays.”

He nodded. “You too.”

“How’s F1 going?”

“Good, well. I like it,” he scratched the back of his neck. 

“Well, we’ve all been cheering you on from here,” you smiled. “I can’t wait to see what you do next year.”

He smiled and nervously chuckled. “Thank you.”

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

As he watched you over the coming days, enjoying your company, even when he wasn’t the centre of your attention, he found himself becoming even more shy, even more confused, and increasingly love-sick.

He just had to find a way to make himself tell you, easy, right? 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

Logan Sargeant: idek

Y’know how you’re told that when boys like you, they’ll bully you? That’s bullshit, they’re just bullies and their parents make excuses for them. 

You watched as Logan got into your car, getting ready to drive it, and you felt yourself tense up. You’d never gotten along with Logan, growing up in the same racing series, only you pivoted to Indycar and he went to F1. Now he was about to drive your car. You’d never been more nervous. You were the Indycar champion this year, the first women to do it, and you were proud. Giving your car over to Crash-Sargeant wasn’t exactly your choice, but you still had hope that he could drive it. 

You went up to him as he was about to get it, and grabbed his hand, holding him in place. “If you fucking car my car I will cut your balls off Sargeant. Don’t fuck with me, alright?” you whispered, getting close enough to feel his breath on your cheek. He smirked and nodded, ripping his hand out of your grasp.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

He was already hearing wedding bells. Utterly and totally in love with you. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

Daniel Riccardo: nothing like a big gesture, right?

He dropped you off outside departures, a sad smile on his face. “Don’t want you to go,” he sighed.

You rolled your eyes, then wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek as his hands circled your waist. “What’re you doing today?”

“Stuff for Enchanté,” he explained. 

“That’s why you can’t come this weekend? Not up to being my WAG in Haas?” you smirked, pressing small kisses to his cheeks as you spoke. 

“God no, I only go there for Nico,” he smirked. “And you’re replacing him today.”

You rolled your eyes, letting god of him. “Fuck you!” you called after you, trying to suppress a smile. He watched as you walked off, shaking your head and he thought about everything. Every night he went to sleep with you in his arms, every morning he woke up beside you, every smile he saw, every laugh he made happen, every hug or kiss he got from you. He smiled, realising the truth. 

He loved you. 

Therefore he ran after you, making a huge scene in the airport. When he finally made it up to you, there were 2 security guards chasing him, so he wrapped his arms around you and kissed you harshly, a bright smile on his face. “I love you,” he smiled when he pulled away. 

“You’re going to get fucking arrested!” you stressed, wide-eyed and shocked at his behavior. 

“For being in love?”

“No, you idiot, for bypassing security and running through an airport without a ticket! Go back!” you pushed him off of you with an exasperated and amused smile.

“I love you!” he called after himself as he was taken away by the security guards. 

“I love you too, you fucking idiot!” you scoffed. “You have a phone, y’know!” 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

Liam Lawson: will NOT speak to you at any cost

Being in love with one of his mechanics probably wasn’t the greatest idea, but the heart wants what the heart wants, and his wanted you. 

“Liam can I-?” you started, but he just walked away, his eyes glued to the floor. You followed behind him, trying again and again to get his attention, but he continued ignoring you, and you'd had enough. “Fuck’s sake- Liam! Stop being such a dick! I don’t know if you just don’t respect me, or if you don’t like me, but I’m a mechanic on your time, and I'm asking if there’s anything you want us to change about your car to make you more comfortable. Just answer me that simple question and I promise I won’t bother you again all weekend!” 

He froze on the spot. “I’m in love with you-” he blurted out, then clapped a hand over his mouth. “The car is fine, sorry. Thanks.”

Then he walked off, leaving you in a stunned silence. 

What the fuck had he just done?

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

Charles LeClerc: weirdly calm about it

You two sat on (one of)  his (many) yacht(s), overlooking the gorgeous Monaco bay. He had an arm around you, both of you dressed in comfortable clothes with nothing to do for the entire weekend. Oh, how he adored the off-season. You were too busy reading a book to notice the way he was looking at you. In the simple, silent moment it hit him suddenly that he was in fact, in love with you. And it didn’t scare him the way previous girlfriends confessing such things to him had. It felt right, completely normal, even. 

“Do you want anything?” you yawned. 

“Pardon?” he asked, too busy in his own world. 

“I’m ordering food, do you want something?” 

“I’m alright, but let me get it,” he offered and you scoffed.

“Fuck off Percvél. I can pay for my own food,” you chuckled, getting up and walking further into the boat. 

He chuckled, watching after you. 

Wow, he was mature. And, in love. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

Carlos Sainz: definitely not freaking out

“I love you,” you confessed as the two of you cosied up at the beach. It had been a brilliant holiday, the two of you actually getting to spend some time together. 

He looked at you with wide-eyes. 

“Sorry if that was too soon, or too much. I just… wanted you to know. You don’t have to say anything back- of course.” 

While you were catastrophising, he was freaking out. You loved him. You told him you loved him. Holy shit. 

He stuttered for a moment, making you grimace. You’d fucked it up, definitely. There was no way he felt the same, right? You were probably just a 7 month long hook-up to him, right? 

“I love you too,” he smiled, then pressed his lips to yours.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

Arthur LeClerc: accidental

“Arthur is so whipped!” his friend laughed, watching as Arthur helped you set the table for dinner. Arthur just laughed, whereas, you frowned. Did Arthur think you were too clingy? Too demanding? Too much? 

Throughout dinner, you were pretty quiet, and you didn’t even let Arthur help you clean up. You went to bed early as he entertained the guests alone, and when he came to bed, there was a pillow between either sides of your bed. He frowned. 

“Baby,” he cooed, wrapping his arms around you and placing your head in the crook of his neck. “What is the problem?”

You sniffled. “It’s nothing,” you shook your head. “I’m sorry.”

He felt his heart warm when you held on to him, revelling in the fact that you would choose him to comfort you. “It’s just what-”

“Please don’t tell me you took to heart the comment Harry made?” he scoffed. You were quiet. “My love, I love you, I like helping you, I like being there for you, I like kissing and hugging you. If he has a problem with that then he can fuck off,” he chuckled, then stopped when he realised what he’d said. 

“You love me?” you sniffled, raising your head to look at him. 

He smiled. “Of course I do,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Always.” 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

Ollie Bearman: overwhelmed 

He smiled as he watched you dance on the dancefloor of the club. You looked so free and happy, smiling brightly with friends as the lights flashed and the music was loud enough to feel it in your entire body. 

“Dude, you two are so in love, it’s adorable,” Paul, his friend, pointed out. 

“I don’t- we’re not-”

“Haven’t said it yet?” Paul chuckled. “You should. I think she’d say it back.”

Ollie nodded, trying to pretend his entire world hadn’t been flipped upside down. You. Love. He wasn’t in love, right? All boyfriends wanted their girlfriends beside them at all times, right? All boyfriends missed their girlfriends so much that they flew them out to every race, right?  All boyfriends had begged their girlfriends to meet his parents, and vice versa only months into getting together, right?  All boyfriends felt suffocated when their girlfriends weren’t around, right? 

Oh shit, he was in love with you. He stepped outside to get some air.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

After a while of not seeing Ollie, you went outside to find him. You found him, leaning against the wall of the club, staring off into space. 

“Alright?” you asked, gently placing a hand on his cheek. 

He looked at you and smiled. “Alright,” he nodded, wrapping his hands around your waist. 

“Why’d you leave?” you asked. 

“Needed some air,” he admitted. It wasn’t untrue. 

“For 30 minutes?” you questioned and he knew he’d been caught. “Did Paul say something stupid? Need me to beat him up for you?” 

He chuckled, pulling you closer to him. “No, I’m alright. I was just… thinking.” 

“Dangerous pastime,” you teased and he chuckled. “What about?”

“You,” he confessed. 

“What about me?”

“I’m in love with you,” he answered nervously. 

“Oh yeah?” you smiled and he nodded. “Good thing I love you too.” 

Wow, Paul was right, for once. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

Max Verstappen: strange man 

He watched from the other side of the plane as you played chess against his mother, bright smiles on both of your faces as the game progressed. He noticed the way your nose crinkled, the way your eyes shone, the comfortable position you sat in. He thought of every moment he got to share with you, and he almost teared up thinking of the best ones. He loved you. But he wouldn’t tell you, not yet. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

He thrust into you, euphoria so close he could almost touch it. “Good girl, he groaned, feeling your nails in his back. “Taking me so well.” 

You just moaned against his skin, too cockdrunk to really notice what was going on around you. Max was a 4 time world champion. He’d done it. The first thing he’d wanted was to fuck you silly in his hotel room.

He was close, he slowed down his thrusts, much to your dismay, and slowly but firmly continued. 

“I,” thrust. “Love,” thrust. “You.” 

And he came inside you as you screamed into his shoulder, reaching your own peak. He hadn’t even meant to say it, it just came out (see what I did there? 😀). He stared down at you as you looked back up at him with wide eyes. 

“You love me?” you questioned. 

He nodded, his mouth dry. He was trying to focus on the softness of this moment, whilst also having to deal with your tight walls around his cock. Torture. 

“I love you too,” you smiled, flipping him over and straddling him. He groaned when he saw you on top of him and he was hard again. “Let me take care of you, yeah? My winner,” you smirked before starting to move on his cock. 

He was in for a long night. But a long night with the woman he loved. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

Paul Aron: finally is a victim of humility 

“Paul, just tell her!” Ralf, his brother, argued. “She adores you, you’re in love with her, it’s alright!” 

“But… what if she doesn’t say it back?” He asked, much more insecure than he meant it to sound. He wasn’t used to being unsure when it came to romance. Paul had always been the type of guy to get any girl he wanted, with you it had been different. You’d hated his guts. He had to prove to you he was a good guy, then you’d finally gone out with him, and fast forward a year, he was trying to figure out how to tell you he loved you. He’d only realised it last night, when you were waiting in his apartment with dinner made for the two of you for the simple reason ‘just because’. In that moment he’d wrapped his arms around you and kissed you to stop himself from ruining the night and confessing right then and there. 

Ralf groaned. “You are impossible!” 

When did love become so complicated?

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

Jack Doohan: so not casual 

Jack watched as you wiped out in the waves once again, a giggle on his lips. As you resurfaced, he saw the panic in your eyes and he swam over, his body taking over before his brain could say anything. 

“You alright?” he called, swimming over to you. You shook your head wildly, tears forming in your eyes. 

“M-my leg,” you whimpered out, trying to keep yourself above water. He grabbed your waist and held you bridal-style so he could swim back to shore, signalling to the lifeguards as finally got you to shore. He saw the issue when you two were out of the water, a huge gash on your left leg, so bad you could see the bone. The cracked bone.

What ensued for the next 9 hours was a flurry of an ambulance, hospital rooms, and surgery, but the only constant was Jack. he stayed there the entire time, and he was there when you woke up. 

He breathed a sigh of relief when your eyes opened. “Hey baby,” he smiled, easy as ever despite the worry he’d been under extreme stress all day. “You’re awake.”

You nodded, taking his hand. “I’m so sorry about today-”

“Don’t apologise. We all get hurt sometimes, it’s alright,” he reassured you. “Plus, it’s not like I can be mad at you.”

“Why not?” you asked. 

“Because I love you,” he shrugged. He’d realised in the 9 hours of  stress that he wouldn’t go to this extent for anyone else, and that he must be insane or in love (which were probably the same thing) to somehow be blindsighted into bringing you to the most dangerous part of the beach for surfing (we was persuaded by you kissing him lots) and then bringing you to the ER and staying with you the entire time. So, he chose the love one, it sounded better. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[goldfades]

dad!joe and reader thoughts of the day

joe and reader spent hours talking about their future on the phone when they were long distance. back when he was at LSU and you were still working on your degree, nightly phone calls were your lifeline. you’d both stay up way too late, talking about everything: the number of kids you wanted (joe said two, you said three, and he eventually relented), the kind of house you’d buy (a porch and a big backyard were non-negotiable), and where you’d retire (somewhere quiet, joe insisted, as long as you were together).

“what if our kid ends up hating football?” you teased once.

joe’s laugh crackled over the line. “then i’ll teach them baseball. or golf. or chess. whatever makes them happy.”

even back then, joe had a way of making you feel like you were planning for a dream that would one day be real.

you were both convinced you were having a girl. during the ultrasound appointment, joe leaned over and whispered, “it’s a girl. i can feel it.” you’d been so sure too, already daydreaming about hair bows, ballet recitals, and a tiny jersey with burrow on the back. when the tech said, “it’s a boy,” you blinked in surprise, and joe sat there frozen for a moment before his grin spread wide.

later, when hayes arrived, all pink cheeks and sleepy eyes, joe held him in the hospital room and whispered, “yeah, buddy. you’re exactly what we needed.” and you couldn’t agree more.

joe was the first one to assemble the crib, but he was so stubborn about not reading the instructions. he swore he didn’t need them, even as you sat cross-legged on the floor with the manual open. “i got this,” he kept saying, determined as ever, until an hour later when he realized he’d installed one of the sides upside-down. you tried not to laugh, but the way he groaned and muttered, “okay, maybe just tell me step three,” was too good.

by the time the crib was ready, it was midnight, and you found joe sitting in the rocking chair next to it, just staring at the empty space. “hard to believe, huh?” he said, running his hand over the railing. “in a few weeks, there’s gonna be a little guy in here.”

joe was a total softie when it came to picking out baby clothes. you’d walked into the nursery one day to find him scrolling through a website on his phone, muttering things like, “does he need suspenders? probably not, but—oh, look at this onesie with the football on it.”

“joe,” you laughed, leaning over his shoulder, “he’s gonna outgrow that in a month.”

“so? we’ll save it for the next one,” he said with a wink, like it wasn’t the first time he’d hinted at wanting a whole team of kids.

hayes’ first christmas broke joe’s heart in the best way. you’d bundled hayes up in tiny plaid pajamas, and joe helped him open his first present—an oversized stuffed tiger that made joe grin so wide it hurt. “LSU,” he whispered to hayes, holding it up like a prized trophy. “we’re starting you young.”

the whole day was a blur of wrapping paper and baby laughter, but that night, when hayes fell asleep in joe’s arms, you caught him staring down at him with a look that could only be described as awe. “best christmas ever,” he said, his voice quiet, and you swore you saw him wipe at his eyes.

he’s ridiculously overprotective when hayes starts crawling. the second hayes figured out how to move, joe was practically shadowing him, ready to catch him if he even thought about tipping over.

“joe, he’s fine,” you said, laughing as you watched him hover.

“he’s reckless,” joe replied, dead serious, as hayes babbled happily and made a beeline for the couch.

“he’s curious,” you corrected, but you couldn’t help but smile at how seriously joe took his new role as protector.

joe loses it the first time hayes falls asleep on his chest. you’d walked into the living room to find them on the couch, hayes sprawled across joe’s hoodie, his tiny fists clutching the fabric.

“you okay?” you whispered, not wanting to disturb the moment.

joe looked up at you, his face soft in the dim light. “he’s just… so small,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “how am i supposed to do anything but love him?”

you leaned over, kissed the top of joe’s head, and whispered, “you’re already doing everything.”

joe fully embraces the chaos of parenthood, but he still has moments of being hilariously unprepared. like the time he forgot to pack an extra onesie and hayes had a blowout at the grocery store.

“i’ll just… carry him,” joe said, holding hayes at arm’s length like he wasn’t sure what to do next.

“in his diaper?” you laughed, digging through the diaper bag to find a blanket to wrap him in.

“he’s a tough kid,” joe said, trying to play it cool, but the pink flush on his cheeks gave him away.

every night, joe whispers something new to hayes before bed. sometimes it’s a play-by-play of the day’s highlights. sometimes it’s just a quiet, “you’re my favorite little guy.”

and every time, you catch him looking at hayes like he can’t believe he got this lucky. when he notices you watching, he grins and says, “can’t wait to see what tomorrow brings.”

masterlist! thank you for reading <3

[lvnleah]

first day of school.

Finley’s first day of school 🥲

find the series masterlist here!

September 2028 | 4 years old. 

“I can’t believe it,” Leah whispered as you fed Ellie in bed, her hand resting on the tiny 3-week-old's head. “Our bubba is off to big school.”

You sighed, “I know. It doesn’t feel real, does it? Feels like yesterday he was just Ellie’s size.”

Leah laughed softly, her fingers gently brushing the blonde hair that Ellie had at the back of her neck, “Times just flown by.”

Just then, Finley came bursting into the room, his tiny feet thumping on the wooden floor as he ran excitedly. 

"I'm ready! I'm ready for school!" he announced, “Is it time to get yet?”

“Slow down, Fin!” You laughed, “You still need to get dressed and have breakfast.”

Leah laughed and reached out, motioning for him to come closer. “Come here, bubba.”

Finley climbed onto the bed and nestled into Leah's lap, still fidgeting with excitement. She placed a kiss onto his forehead as he settled onto her lap. 

"You’re excited, huh?" Leah smiled, brushing his messy hair back. 

Finley nodded. “Yeah! I’m gonna make lots of friends, and we’re gonna play, and the teacher’s gonna show us so many things!”

You smiled, watching Leah interact with Finley while Ellie’s tiny fingers grasped your shirt. "You’re going to have such a good time, buddy," you said softly. 

Finley beamed, his face lighting up. "Yeah! And can I take my backpack today?"

"Of course, we packed it last night, remember?" Leah replied, smoothing out his pyjamas. "But first, breakfast. Big kids need lots of energy."

Finley nodded seriously, already shifting off Leah's lap. "Can I have pancakes?"

"Why not?" you chuckled, carefully adjusting Ellie as she started to stir. 

Leah smiled as she got out of bed, placing a kiss on your temple. “I’ll make them. You finish with Els.”

Finley bounced on his feet. "Pancakes! Yay!" He ran out of the room again, his excitement infectious.

Leah laughed softly, shaking her head. "He’s going to be wiped out by noon at this rate."

You smiled, watching her disappear down the hall after him. Turning your attention back to Ellie, you gently stroked her cheek. “Looks like it’s just you and me for a little while longer, huh?”

Ellie made a soft coo, her eyes fluttering open briefly before settling back into sleep. You took a deep breath, savouring the quiet moment, knowing how fast time was moving with Finley already starting school. 

Your emotions were all over the place and it didn’t help that you were three weeks postpartum so your hormones added to everything you were feeling. 

You found yourself blinking back a few tears, not entirely sure if it was your hormones or the emotions of the day or both. You weren’t sure how you’d gotten to this moment so fast. 

It felt like yesterday you were crying over your body changing when Finley was just a tiny newborn. It felt like yesterday you were only celebrating his very first birthday and Leah’s 29th. Your baby boy was growing up and all you wanted to do was pause the time and keep him this little for a little longer. 

Although he’d been in preschool for over a year now, you were still anxious over him starting reception. It was only going to be three days a week until he was settled, then it would be full-time every day. It was his last year before his proper education began and you couldn’t help but worry about your baby. 

Once Ellie was finished feeding, you carefully placed her in her bassinet beside the bed. After wiping your eyes, you took a deep breath and gave yourself a few seconds to compose. Today was a big day for Finley, but it was also a big day for you and Leah. You both were entering a new chapter of parenting.

You stretched a bit before picking Ellie up and heading into the kitchen, following the sound of Finley’s excited chatter and the smell of pancakes already filling the air. Leah was by the stove, flipping a pancake while Finley sat at the table, kicking his legs under the chair and talking about all the things he was going to do that day. His backpack sat proudly on a chair next to him.

He grinned up at you as you entered the room. "Look, Mummy! Mumma’s making pancakes!"

"I see that," you smiled, placing a kiss on his head while being careful of Ellie. "Smells amazing."

"Breakfast is ready, big boy," Leah said, setting a plate of pancakes down. "Make sure you eat up so you have plenty of energy for today."

Finley nodded eagerly, grabbing a fork. You sat down next to him, keeping an eye on him as he shovelled bites of pancake into his mouth.

"Hey, not too fast," you reminded him gently, laughing as syrup dribbled down his chin. "We don't want a sugar rush before school even starts."

After breakfast, you handed Ellie over to Leah, who had finished her own plate. “I’ve got her, love. Go help Finn get dressed. You need some time with our biggest bubba.”

You nodded, glancing down at Finley’s syrup-covered mouth with a fond sigh. "Alright, bubs, let’s get you cleaned up and dressed."

Finley followed you excitedly to his room, bouncing around as you laid out his uniform. You couldn't help but smile at his little uniform which seemed far too big for him. 

"Okay, let’s get you ready for your big day," you said, helping him pull the shirt over his head. Finley’s endless energy continued, even as you worked to button up his shirt.

"I can do it!" he insisted, attempting to do the buttons himself.

"Alright, Mr. Independent," you chuckled, watching as his small fingers fumbled with the buttons. You gave him a moment before gently helping him with the last few. "There! Don’t you look so handsome?"

Finley smiled, clearly proud of himself. "Mumma said I'm gonna be the coolest kid there!" he declared.

"Oh of course you will be," you said, kissing him on the top of his head. "Now let's grab your shoes and backpack, then brush your teeth, then it’s time to go."

After finishing helping Finley brush his teeth you made your way out into the hallway, "Mumma and Els have to see! Mumma has to see my uniform!"

You laughed softly, "Let’s go show Mumma and Els, then."

You led Finley back into the living, where Leah was sitting with Ellie cradled in her arms. The moment Finley entered the room, Leah’s eyes lit up, and she gasped dramatically. 

“Oh my goodness! Look at you, Finn! You look so grown up!” she exclaimed, “You’re going to be the coolest kid in the playground, buddy!”

Finley grinned from ear to ear. “Do I look like a big kid, Mumma?”

Leah walked over, carefully shifting Ellie so she could crouch down to his level. “You look amazing, bubba. I’m so proud of you.” She pulled him into a gentle hug, mindful of his uniform, and kissed the top of his head. 

You stood back, watching them with your heart full, before Leah looked up at you. “We should get a picture of him before we head off.”

You nodded, reaching for your phone as Leah helped Finley stand by the door. He struck a playful pose, grinning wildly as you snapped the photo of your little boy, ready for his first day of school. 

"Alright, Mr. Big Kid," you said, lowering your phone. "Are you ready to go?"

Finley nodded, bouncing on his toes again. “Yeah! I’m so ready!”

“Why don’t you put Els in and Finley and I’ll grab the nappy bag, yeah?” Leah told you as she handed you Ellie. 

You gently took Ellie from Leah's arms, holding her close as you gave a small nod. "Sounds good."

Heading outside to the car, you carefully buckled Ellie into her car seat while Finley climbed into the back, chatting endlessly about all the fun things he was going to do at school. You could hear Leah moving around inside, gathering the last of the things you'd need for the day.

With Ellie secure, you rounded the car to help Finley strap himself in before closing the door and waiting by the car for Leah. 

Leah stepped outside, the nappy bag slung over her shoulder. She looked emotional, tears were brimming in her eyes. 

“You okay?” You asked softly, wrapping your arms around her waist. 

She nodded, “I don’t know… it’s just hitting me all at once. How did we get here so fast? He was just a baby…”

You exhaled softly, pulling Leah closer. “I know. I feel it too.” Your voice was thick with emotion as she pressed a kiss to your cheek. “But he’s going to be amazing, love. And we’ll be right there, watching him every step of the way.”

Leah nodded, trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill over. “What if he needs us? What if something happens and we’re not there?”

“I know.” You pulled back slightly. “But he has his teachers, they’ll phone if anything major happens.”

“I love you,” she whispered, squeezing your waist.

You smiled, your own eyes glassy. “I love you too.”

You stood there for a moment longer, wrapped up in each other, before the sound of Finley’s voice broke through. “Mummy! Mumma! Are we going?! I don’t wanna be late!”

Leah chuckled, stepping back but keeping one arm around you. “Alright, alright, bubba. We’re coming.”

You both climbed into the car, with you in the passenger seat and Leah behind the wheel. As you pulled away from the house, Finley’s small body was practically bouncing in his car seat, and Ellie was fast asleep in hers. 

When you pulled into the school parking lot, Finley’s excitement reached new heights. “We’re here! We’re here!” he exclaimed, trying to unbuckle his seatbelt before Leah even turned the car off. 

“Hang on, buddy,” you laughed, turning in your seat. “Let us get out first, and we’ll help you.”

Leah parked, and you both stepped out, Leah heading around the car to get Ellie while you helped Finley out of his car seat. His little legs bounced with excitement as soon as his feet hit the ground, and you chuckled, smoothing out his uniform.

“You ready, big kid?” you asked, straightening his backpack straps.

Finley nodded eagerly, “I’m ready, Mummy!”

Leah joined you, Ellie nestled against her chest in the baby carrier. She knelt down, “C’mere, bubba,” She said, bringing Finley into a hug, “You’re going to do great. Remember to listen to your teacher and have fun. Most importantly, me and Mummy love you and we’ll both be here to pick you up.”

“I love you too, Mumma!” Finley grinned, “I love you too as well Els,” he smiled, kissing his baby sister on her head. “And I love you as well Mummy!” He said, hugging your legs. 

“I love you too, bubs.” You smiled as Finley grabbed both your and Leah’s hands. 

As the three of you made your way toward the entrance. The schoolyard was already buzzing with other kids and parents, all saying their goodbyes before the day officially started. You noticed a few familiar faces from preschool, and Finley immediately recognized a friend, waving excitedly.

“Look, Mummy, that’s Miles!” Finley pointed out, tugging on your hand to let go.

You smiled, bending down to his level. “Okay, bubba, go say hi, but come back so we can walk you to the classroom in a minute.”

He didn’t need to be told twice, running off towards his friend with that boundless energy that only kids seem to have this early in the morning. You and Leah stood there for a second, watching him, both of you silent as the reality of this moment truly set in. 

Leah took a deep breath beside you, her free hand finding yours again. “I’m not ready,” she whispered, her voice cracking slightly.

You squeezed her hand. “Neither am I.”

As you both watched Finley laughing with his friends, his backpack bouncing up and down, you realised that he was ready. And that was enough.

After a few more minutes, Finley ran back over to you, his cheeks flushed with excitement. “Is it time to go inside, Mummy?”

You nodded and crouched down, pulling him into a tight hug, your voice thick with emotion. “It is. We’re so proud of you, Finn. Have the best day, okay?”

Leah followed, being careful of Ellie while leaning down to kiss Finley on the top of his head. “We love you, bubba. We’ll be here to pick you up later.”

Finley nodded, his smile never faltering. “I love you too! Love you Mumma, love you Mummy! Love you, Els!”

And just like that, he was off and running into the classroom to his teacher. You and Leah stood there for a moment longer, watching until he disappeared through the doors.

You walked back to the car in silence, hand in hand as Ellie snuggled up against Leah’s chest. Just as you got back to the car, Ellie began to fuss against Leah’s chest. 

“I think little missy could be hungry,” Leah laughed, looking down at Ellie who was now squirming against her chest. 

You giggled, shaking your head, “Give me a minute to get settled in the front then I’ll feed her.”

While you got yourself settled into the front seat, Leah got Ellie out from the baby carrier before handing her over to you. A comfortable silence fell over you as you fed Ellie and before you knew it you were handing her over to Leah in the driver's seat so she could burp her.  

“Can you just stay this little please, bubba?” Leah cooed at Ellie, holding her out in front of her after she had finished burping her, “I don’t think I can handle this again…”

You smiled, touching Ellie’s tiny fingers, “We’ve still got a few years before little missy is heading off, who knows maybe by then we might have another little one.”

Leah's eyes widened, and she let out a soft laugh, looking at you with surprise. "Another one? Are you serious?" she asked. 

You shrugged, smiling as you adjusted in your seat. "I don’t know. Maybe? I mean, we’ve always talked about having at least two, and look at how much love we have to give. Who’s to say we won’t feel ready for another by then?"

Leah smiled, her gaze softening as she looked down at Ellie, who was now peacefully snuggled against her chest. "I suppose you're right," she murmured. "I never thought I could love this much. Every time I look at Finn and now Ellie, it just feels... endless."

You nodded. "Exactly. Our family’s full of so much love. And who knows what the future holds?"

Leah chuckled again, leaning back into her seat. "Alright, let’s just survive the next few years with these two first," she teased. "We can revisit that conversation when we’re getting a bit more sleep."

You laughed, nodding. "Deal. One day at a time."

[mambodork]

In the baby bird au, adult grian has wings and gem has antlers. Are hybrids a thing and if so, is there background info on that? I kinda like the idea that that's why he works at the zoo, to hang out with more pesky birds.

(also side note, your art style is literally my dream art style, love it sm)

Yes, hybrids & fantasy races are a thing, and as for now, there aren't really any serious background things going on (not any that would be explored within the au's main storyline that is). Like yeah, some people just have cool & different features, which is kinda awesome 👍 that's about it... we chilling !

As for the pesky birds... I have a running headcanon going on where, contrary to popular belief, Grian is not in fact buddy-buddy and instead has some sort of beef with the parrots. Those pesky birds are always up to no good and are always bothering him every chance they get.

I imagine Scar would be absolutely infatuated with them (since they are in his line of work) and was really looking forward to some cute parrot + Grian interactions, but then Grian sees the birds for the first time and immediately scrunches his face going "Ugh. They're stinky." And the Parrot would just mirror him and say "you're stinky!" Over and over again 💀 Grian would not like that one bit and chases them away, calling them "pesky birds!" and they would proceed to pull on his hair or something (I think it would be funny if he eventually got a bald spot because of this. The bald spot idea courtesy of Eirian Kunehokki <3).

Anyways, not a fan of the parrots, definitely more of a mollusks guy.

(Thank you so much awww <33)

[the-winter-spider]

Invisible | Part 22

Bucky x reader AU

Word count: 4.7k

Warnings: SMUTTTTTTTTTT

A/N: Okay so look I don't normally write smut. I've never done it before this is as good as it's gonna get. I apologize in advance xoxoxoxox 🫶🏻💅

The door to the apartment slammed shut with a force that rattled the frame. Sam, who was lounging on the couch with a beer in hand, turned his head fast, eyebrows raised.

“Whoa, buddy, easy there. We’ve got neighbors,” Sam joked, trying to lighten the tension.

Steve stood by the door, his hands on his hips, chest heaving like he’d just run a marathon. He muttered, “Sorry,” before running a hand through his hair and stepping into the living room.

Sam sat up straighter, instantly on alert. “Okay… what happened? You look like you’ve just been through the wringer.”

Steve exhaled sharply, moving to the kitchen and grabbing a beer from the fridge. He twisted the cap off and leaned against the counter, taking a long sip before answering. “I ran into her.”

Sam blinked, caught off guard. “Her? You mean Y/N?”

Steve nodded, his jaw tightening. “Yeah.”

Sam frowned, setting his beer on the coffee table. “And?”

“And apparently Natasha asked her for space,” Steve said, his tone heavy with frustration.

Sam’s eyebrows shot up. “Nat? Why?”

Steve’s laugh was humorless as he pushed off the counter and paced the room. “Because of me.”

Sam leaned forward, now completely invested. “What do you mean because of you?”

Steve stopped pacing, raking a hand through his hair again. “Y/N told me that Natasha’s in love with me.”

Sam choked on his beer mid-sip, coughing violently as he tried to recover. “I’m sorry, what?”

Steve’s expression was grim. “Apparently, Nat’s been in love with me for years.”

Sam blinked rapidly, trying to process. “I mean… I always noticed the looks, but I didn’t know it was like that.”

Steve froze, narrowing his eyes at Sam. “What looks?”

Sam raised his hands defensively. “The longing looks, man. Nat’s good at hiding her feelings, but every once in a while, when you’re looking at Y/N, Nat’s looking at you like…” He trailed off, shrugging. “Like she wishes you’d look at her that way.”

Steve’s lips pressed into a thin line as he grabbed a chair and sank into it, cracking open the beer. He took another sip before saying, “That’s not all.”

Sam’s eyebrows shot up again. “Oh, God, what else? I swear this shits gonna be the death of me.”

Steve stared at the table, his voice low. “I told her.. she shouldn’t be with Bucky. That she should be with me.”

This time, Sam didn’t just choke—he spit out his beer entirely, coughing and spluttering. “You said what?! Steven I—”

Steve ignored him, cutting him off, his words tumbling out in a flood. “I couldn’t hold it in, Sam. Seeing her with him, hearing about how they’re just together now like it was always meant to be—because apparently it is, but it’s just killing me. And I said it. I told her she should be with me.”

Sam stared at him, wide-eyed. “You’re insane,” he muttered.

Steve sighed deeply, rubbing his temples. “And then she said…” His voice wavered slightly. “She said we’re all leaving her. Nat, me, and apparently you.”

The room fell into a heavy silence. Sam shifted uncomfortably, his beer suddenly less appealing.

Steve’s sharp gaze locked onto him. “What did she mean by that, Sam?”

Sam hesitated, his fingers fidgeting with the beer bottle. “I was gonna talk to you tonight,” he admitted.

Steve’s brow furrowed. “Talk to me about what?”

Sam let out a breath, leaning back into the couch. “I got a promotion at work.”

Steve’s eyes lit up briefly with surprise. “That’s great, man. Holy shit, congratulations!”

Sam gave a small, bittersweet smile. “Thanks. But, uh… the thing is, it’s across the country, to Washington to be exact, I’ll be moving in two weeks.”

Steve’s face fell, and he let out a quiet, “Shit.”

Sam nodded, the weight of the confession heavy in the room. “Yeah. I didn’t want to drop this on you all at once, but I guess it’s as good a time as any.”

Steve stared at him for a moment before shaking his head. “I’m proud of you, Sam. Really. You deserve this. But damn…” He ran a hand through his hair again. “Looks like I’ll need to move.”

Sam chuckled softly. “Yeah, sorry about that. Maybe at the next farmers market Nat will buy you the rest of the farm ceramics you can move em into my room, start charging rent..”

Steve snorted, though the humor didn’t quite reach his eyes. The two of them sat in silence for a moment, the weight of their respective issues hanging in the air.

Finally, Sam broke the silence. “So… what are you gonna do about Natasha?”

Steve looked down at his beer, his expression conflicted. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I’m not even sure I’m in the right headspace to do anything about it.”

Sam nodded slowly. “Fair enough. But you know she deserves better than waiting around for you to figure it out, right?”

Steve’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I know,” he said quietly.

“And what about Y/N? What are you gonna do about what you said to her?”

Steve sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping. “I don’t know. She probably told Bucky by now, and I’m sure he’s ready to kill me.”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, you really stepped in it this time, man.”

Steve shot him a look. “Thanks for the support.”

Sam shrugged, a small smirk playing on his lips. “Hey, I’m just saying what we’re both thinking. You’re gonna have to figure this out, Steve. Because right now? It’s a mess.”

Steve let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

They both sat there in silence again, the enormity of everything weighing heavily on them. Sam finally clapped Steve on the shoulder. “Look, no matter how much of a shitshow this is, it won't be like this forever man, its us, all of us.”

Steve gave him a small, grateful smile. “Thanks, man.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Sam said, leaning back. “You’ve got some serious damage control to do first.”

As the weight of the conversation hung in the air, Sam leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He let out a dramatic sigh, running a hand over his face before shooting Steve a mock-serious look.

“Y’know, I can’t leave in good conscience if all my children aren’t okay,” he said, gesturing broadly as if addressing a group.

Steve frowned, confused. “Your children?”

Sam smirked, leaning back and crossing his arms. “Yeah, my children. You, Y/N, Bucky, Nat, Wanda—this whole dysfunctional friend group minus Wanda actually, shes just a saint, hallelujah! But you’re all like my unruly little kids, and I need you to get your shit together before I move halfway across the country. Otherwise, I’m gonna feel guilty as hell.”

Steve snorted, but there was a faint glimmer of a smile at the corner of his lips. “We’re not your kids, Sam.”

“Oh, really?” Sam raised an eyebrow, sitting up straighter. “Who’s the one everyone comes crying to when things go south? Who’s the one playing mediator when y’all start tearing each other apart? Me. I’m the glue holding this chaos together, Rogers.”

Steve let out a soft laugh despite himself, shaking his head. “I didn’t realize we put you through so much, Dad.”

“Damn right,” Sam said with a mock scowl. “You’re lucky I’m so patient. Now, can we please work on fixing this mess before I have to catch a plane? I’ve got enough to worry about without you and Natasha staring at each other from across the room like you’re in a sad indie film.”

Steve sighed, leaning back into the couch and swirling his beer. “I’ll figure it out, Sam.”

Sam gave him a look. “You better. ‘Cause I’m not above locking you and everyone in a room together and waiting it out.”

Steve laughed quietly, shaking his head. “You’re relentless.”

“And you love me for it,” Sam quipped, standing up and clinking his beer against Steve’s. “Now, get your ass in gear, Rogers. Fix it with the fam. And maybe don’t confess your love to someone who’s already taken next time.”

Steve winced, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, message received.”

Sam smirked. “Good. Now, can we chill for the rest of the night? Or do I have to keep playing therapist?”

Steve chuckled, clinking his beer against Sam’s again. “No more therapy sessions tonight.”

Sam grinned. “That’s what I thought. Now pass me the pretzels.”

Natasha slammed the door behind her, the sharp sound echoing through the apartment. She tossed her bag onto the floor and leaned back against the doorframe, her hands gripping the strap of her jacket like a lifeline. Her jaw was tight, and her eyes were red, like she was holding back the last thread of control she had.

Wanda poked her head out from the kitchen, her wooden spoon mid-stir in a pot of something fragrant. Her brows furrowed at Natasha’s expression. “Woah, what happened? You look like you’ve just walked out of a war zone.”

Natasha let out a bitter laugh, kicking her shoes off aggressively and heading toward the couch. “Might as well have.”

“Okay, uh is this serious?” Wanda abandoned her cooking, setting the spoon down and following Natasha into the living room. She perched on the arm of the couch as Natasha sank into it, her hands immediately rubbing at her temples. “Spill.”

Natasha exhaled sharply, her voice biting. “I snapped at Y/N.”

Wanda blinked, tilting her head. “About what?”

“About Bucky. About Steve. About everything.” Natasha waved a hand, her frustration clear. “She came to me asking for advice on Bucky. Apparently, he lied to her about going out for drinks with Sam, and she just wanted to talk it through. But instead of helping her, I completely lost it.”

Wanda’s face softened with understanding. “What did you say?”

Natasha hesitated, guilt flickering across her face. “I told her she was overthinking it. Being dramatic like always. And then… I told her I needed space.”

Wanda’s mouth fell open slightly, but Natasha wasn’t done.

“And then,” Natasha continued, her voice tightening with self-loathing, “I told her I didn’t understand why Steve was in love with her and not… not me, told her she wasn’t anything special.”

“Oh my god, Natasha…,” Wanda murmured, her tone gentle but disappointed.

“I know, i know…” Natasha said quickly, her voice cracking. “I know how shitty it was. But I couldn’t stop myself. She’s so… happy right now. With Bucky, finally. And I’m standing here, watching her and then watching Steve fall apart while I’m—” She broke off, running her hands through her hair. “I’m stuck. Just stuck.”

Wanda leaned forward, trying to catch Natasha’s gaze. “You’re not stuck, Nat. You’re hurting. But you’ve got to stop projecting that onto her.”

Natasha scoffed bitterly. “She said all she wanted was advice. Advice on Bucky, of all people. And I couldn’t even give her that without making it about me.”

Wanda’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Because it is about you, Nat. Not her. You’re angry with Steve for not seeing you the way you want him to. You’re angry with yourself for not saying anything sooner. And yeah, maybe you’re a little angry that she’s happy with Bucky while you’re feeling invisible. But you can’t blame her for any of that.”

Natasha’s eyes filled with unshed tears. “I know, I know, but it feels so unfair, Wanda. Why am I always the one standing on the sidelines? Why does it always feel like I’m waiting for something that’s never going to happen?”

Wanda sighed, sliding off the armrest and sitting next to Natasha. She placed a comforting hand on her friend’s knee. “Nat, you’ve spent so much time watching from the sidelines that you’ve convinced yourself you belong there. But you don’t. You deserve to be in the center of someone’s world, just like she is to Bucky.”

“And what if that someone is Steve?” Natasha whispered, her voice trembling.

Wanda hesitated, her heart aching for her friend. “Then you need to figure out if it’s worth the risk. But Nat… if you want Steve to see you, you have to give him the chance. You can’t keep hiding how you feel.”

Natasha wiped at her eyes angrily. “What if it’s too late? What if he’s too far gone on Y/N?”

Wanda gave her a sad smile. “Steve’s not too far gone, but before anything can happen, he needs to work through his feelings for her. And you… you need to figure out what you really want.”

Natasha nodded slowly, her voice barely audible. “I just don’t want to lose her, Wanda. Or Steve. Or any of you.”

“You won’t,” Wanda assured her. “We’re too close for that. But you’ve got to be honest—with her, with Steve, and most importantly, with yourself.”

Natasha leaned back against the couch, letting out a shuddering breath. “I’ll talk to her. Just… not tonight.”

“Not tonight,” Wanda agreed. She stood, patting Natasha on the shoulder. “Come on, babe. I’ve got pasta in the kitchen. Food always helps.”

Natasha let out a weak laugh, nodding. “Yeah. Pasta sounds good.”

The cabin looked exactly as you remembered it, nestled in the woods with its rustic charm intact. The wooden exterior was weathered but sturdy, and the scent of pine trees and earth filled the crisp air.

Bucky had insisted on carrying your bags, his easy smile making it impossible to argue. Now, as he unlocked the door and pushed it open, you were flooded with memories of your childhood and the countless weekends spent here with the group.

"Home sweet home," Bucky said softly, stepping aside to let you in.

The inside was just as cozy as you remembered - worn furniture, a stone fireplace, and the faint scent of cedar lingering in the air. A fire was already crackling in the hearth, casting a warm, flickering glow across the room.

"You did all this?" you asked, turning to him.

Bucky shrugged, a boyish grin tugging at his lips.

"Figured it'd be nice to have it ready for you."

Your heart swelled as you dropped your coat onto the couch, taking in the space. It felt so intimate now, just the two of you surrounded by memories and the quiet of the woods.

"Bucky," you started, your voice soft, "this is perfect."

His eyes softened, and he reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "You deserve perfect."

After getting all settled, which didnt take long thanks to Bucky already doing everything, the two of you sat by the fire, a bottle of wine on the table between you and an easy warmth filling the room. You couldn't stop smiling, leaning against Bucky's shoulder as you talked about everything and nothing.

"Remember the time Steve got stuck on the roof because Nat dared him to climb up there?" Bucky said, laughing as he rubbed small circles on your shoulder.

You giggled, the memory vivid. "And you were the one who had to help him down. He wouldn't stop screaming about how he was gonna die."

Bucky tilted his head back, laughing. "It was his own fault for taking the dare. Dumb ass."

The sound of his laughter filled the cabin, and you couldn't help but stare at him. His eyes crinkled at the corners, his head tilted slightly, and his hand stayed firmly on you, grounding you in the moment.

"Hey," Bucky said, noticing your gaze. "What's going on in that pretty head of yours?"

You bit your lip, a flush creeping up your cheeks.

"Just... how happy I am. I didn't think I would have something like this, especially with you it feels surreal."

Bucky's expression softened, his thumb brushing against your cheek. "You and me both, I'm scared I'm going to wake up one day and not have you like this... but loving you is the easiest thing I've ever done."

Before you could respond, he stood and walked to the fireplace, picking up a small leather-bound book from the mantel. He turned it over in his hands, his fingers tracing the edges as if gathering the courage to part with it.

“What’s that?” you asked, tilting your head, curiosity softening your voice.

Bucky’s gaze flicked to yours, hesitant but filled with something deeper—hope, love, fear. He walked back, sitting down beside you and holding the book out. “It’s for you.”

Your brow furrowed as you reached for it, your fingers brushing against the worn leather. It felt warm from his hands, and across the front, your name was scrawled in his familiar, messy handwriting.

“It’s… letters,” he began, his voice quiet, almost uncertain. “Letters, things, random thoughts or things i just wanted to say to you but never did because I was a coward.”

Your breath caught as you opened the book, the creak of the spine breaking the silence between you. The first page was dated years ago, the ink slightly faded but unmistakably his handwriting.

You began to read aloud:

“Y/N,

Today, I saw you laugh at something Steve said, and it hit me how much I love that sound. I know I'm only 17 but I’d do anything to hear it every day for the rest of my life.”

Your voice broke on the last word, your eyes already filling with tears. You looked up at him, stunned, but he just gave you a small, nervous smile.

You flipped to another random page.

“Y/N,

I wanted to tell you how beautiful you looked tonight, but the words caught in my throat. I wish I was braver, wish I could just say it, but what if it changes everything? What if I lose you? I can't lose you.”

Tears spilled freely now as you flipped through the pages, each one a snapshot of Bucky’s heart. The dates led all the way back to your teenage years, to the very beginning of your friendship.

“Bucky,” you whispered, your voice trembling as the weight of his words settled over you. “This is….”

He hesitated, his eyes searching yours. “Is it too much?” he asked softly, his vulnerability laid bare.

You shook your head, setting the book down gently before throwing your arms around his neck, burying your face in his shoulder. "No, its everything... its perfect. You're perfect."

His hands settled on your waist, holding you tightly as if afraid you might slip away.

"You've always been everything to me," he murmured against your hair, the words barely audible.

The air shifted, charged with emotion and years of longing finally laid bare. When you pulled back to look at him, his eyes met yours, and for a moment, the world fell away. Slowly, deliberately, you leaned in, and your lips met his.

The kiss was slow at first, tentative, as if testing the boundaries of this newfound vulnerability. But it quickly deepened, the years of pent-up emotion pouring out with every touch, every movement.

His hands slipped under your sweater, his calloused palms warm against your skin. The contact made you gasp, and he used the opportunity to pull you closer, his grip firm but careful, as though you were something precious.

"God, I love you," he murmured against your lips, his voice rough with need and emotion.

Your heart swelled, and vou whispered back, "I love you too."

His forehead rested against yours as his breathing mingled with yours. His eyes searched yours, filled with unspoken questions and promises. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice low, almost trembling.

"I've never been more sure of anything," you said, your voice steady despite the pounding of your heart.

He smiled then, a soft, genuine smile that made you fall all over again. He kissed you deeply, his hands traveling up your back with a reverence that made your entire body hum.

As he laid you back gently against the couch, his lips never leaving yours, the world outside ceased to exist. His touch was both careful and consuming, his hands exploring every inch of your skin as if committing you to memory. Each touch felt like a declaration, a promise.

"You're everything to me," he whispered, his lips brushing the curve of your jaw. "I want to give you the world."

"You already have," you breathed, your fingers tangling in his hair as he kissed his way down your neck.

When his fingertips trailed down the slope of your breast, a jolt of sensation arced through your body, making your breath catch in the back of your throat. Every nerve ending seemed to come alive at once, and your pulse quickened, pounding a wild rhythm that made your head spin. The featherlight touch sent shivers skittering up your spine, each one a thousand points of sensation that made every inch of you ache with hunger.

His mouth found the peak of one breast, his lips closing around it in a slow, languid kiss. You gasped at the wet heat of his tongue, at the way his lips pulled gently at the sensitive flesh. Your body arched into him instinctively, craving more, demanding it with a want so overwhelming that it eclipsed everything else.

“Bucky,” you gasped, his name tumbling from your lips like a plea. Your hands clutched at his hair, guiding him back up to your mouth where you could devour him in a kiss.

He moved with you, letting you pull him closer, urging you to take what you needed. When he rolled you onto your back, his body settling between your legs, you felt his hardness press against you. You wanted to feel him—his bare skin sliding against yours, the heat of him sinking into your core—but you also didn’t want to let go of the kiss, didn't want this moment of connection to be severed.

He seemed to read your mind because his lips never left yours as he guided your hands down his body. He let you unbutton his jeans, and the sound of his zipper coming undone sent another rush of heat through you. When your fingers found his length, a low groan tore from his throat, vibrating against your lips.

“I want you,” you whispered, the words almost lost in the wetness of the kiss.

His response was immediate—a low growl that bordered on a whimper. “Oh, God, I’ve been waiting so long for this, for you sweetheart” he muttered, his hand slipping between your legs. “You’re so wet for me.”

His words were like fuel to the fire, sparking a hunger so deep and primal within you that it hurt. You pushed against his touch, seeking friction, seeking anything that would give you the release you craved. He understood, his fingers stroking you with a careful precision that made your entire body clench.

You moaned, the word breathless with need. Your hips arched up, moving in tandem with his strokes. The pressure built, like something coiling within you, waiting to burst.

He gave you more, sliding a finger into you, then two, curling them deep as though searching for a sweet spot that would unravel you completely. You gasped when he found it, his gentle strokes hitting it over and over until you were trembling beneath him.

“Bucky, I—” The words died on your lips when he slid a third finger inside you. The sensation was almost overwhelming, his touch, his kiss, the need burning through you, all mixing together until it was impossible to focus on anything but him.

The world tilted, your body shuddering with a wave of sensation, and then you were flying, soaring above everything else as your release hit you like a tidal wave. Your head tipped back, mouth opening on a silent cry, the feeling almost too intense to bear. Every nerve ending in your body seemed to crackle with electricity, the pleasure like a thousand bolts of lightning exploding within you.

When you came back down from the high of your orgasm, Bucky was kissing your neck, his breath warm against your skin. He looked up at you, his blue eyes shining with a softness you’d never seen before, and the sight made your chest hurt.

“I love you,” he whispered, his voice low and rough with emotion. “Always. Forever.”

Your fingers threaded through his hair, pulling him into another kiss. “I love you too,” you murmured against his lips. “So much Buck”

He smiled at you, and there was so much affection and adoration in his eyes that it threatened to overwhelm you all over again.

You reached for him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, holding him close as he settled between your thighs. He slid into you slowly, filling you, stretching you until you were full with the length of him. It wasn’t enough, though. You needed more—needed his breath to mingle with yours, needed his skin to be flush against yours.

When he pulled out, you whimpered in protest, but he just smiled down at you, a gentle smile that made your heart swell with emotion. He grasped your hips, pulling you into a sitting position as he settled onto his back. The movement brought him deeper within you, and the sensation was so overwhelming that you had to catch your breath.

“I want you on me,” Bucky whispered, his eyes holding yours as he lifted you, helping you find a rhythm that left you both breathless. “I want to see you.”

You started to move “Baby,” Bucky moaned, his eyes locked onto your body moving above him. “Oh, fuck.”

The words were guttural, filled with so much emotion that it threatened to overwhelm everything else. You could feel him throbbing within you, his length swelling, stretching you further than you thought possible. The feeling was almost too much to handle, yet at the same time, it wasn’t enough.

“Harder,” you gasped, your voice barely audible over your own heartbeat pounding in your ears. Your fingers found Bucky’s, linking with them as his hips began to move faster beneath yours. “Deeper. Please.”

He groaned at your words, the sound dark and edged with desperation. “I’m close,” he warned, but you could tell he wanted to wait, wanted to ensure you reached your orgasm first.

You leaned down, pressing your lips to his ear. “Come with me,” you urged, your words a soft whisper that turned into a moan when he hit your sweet spot again. The feeling was so intense you felt yourself begin to unravel, pleasure flooding you until it seemed to spill over.

“Yes,” Bucky muttered, the word a dark growl, his hips bucking up hard as his length thickened, pulsing with an imminent release. “Oh, fuck..”

Your body tensed at the same time as his, the pleasure cresting until it seemed impossible to hold back the orgasm any longer. It hit you like a wave, pulling you under with such force that you were powerless to do anything but let it consume you.

Bucky’s mouth found yours, muffling your cries of pleasure as he began to come. You could feel him throbbing within you, warm heat spilling into you, filling you until the sensation was almost too overwhelming to bear.

Time seemed to stretch and compress all at once, the only sound was your ragged breathing, and his quiet grunts of pleasure as his body emptied into yours. Your heart pounded against your ribcage, making your lungs feel tight with the sheer force of the feeling.

Finally, your high began to ebb, leaving you both breathless and boneless, bodies trembling as though the pleasure had taken every ounce of strength you possessed. Bucky’s arms found their way around you, holding you close as though trying to absorb you into himself. When you looked up, his eyes were gazing back at you, filled with an emotion that stole whatever breath you had left in your lungs.

“I love you,” you whispered, your voice a soft sound that seemed lost amidst the pounding of your heartbeat.

His smile was slow to form, but when it did, it lit up his whole face. His lips brushed over yours, the kiss warm and lingering. “Mine.”

“Yours.” You pressed one last kiss to his mouth, your lips lingering on the word.

[in1-nutshell]

Hi, can I request a continuation of Wasp's twin who took his place?

Maybe something about the team Prime getting worried over Buddy rarely leaving her room? And when she does she just sits in a corner and hugs her knees?

Buddy is also scared of going outside the base, because what if the Elite Guard comes to earth and found her? She will get thrown to the stockade again!

Optimus is like, "i'm not a doctor, but i'm pretty sure this isn't good for her".

And ratchet is like, "i'm a doctor and I can comfirm this is not healty for her, we need to make her come out of her room more as soon as possible".

And then Bulkhead is like, "oh, I know how!", and takes out his art.

He shows his art to Buddy which draws her attention a lot.

Maybe that's how Buddy gets into pottery and knitting, Bulkhead inspired her!

(I'm sending this twice incase it disappears from the inbox)

I'm giving Wasp's twin sister a name! Look for it in the link for established Buddy names!

Hope you enjoy!

Wasp's Twin Sister finds a hobby

SFW, Platonic, Slight Angst, Cybertronian reader

TFA

Ever since the news of the Elite Guard potentially making a stop on Earth happened, the team had noticed their newest member, Vespa, had been a bit closed off.

No, that was an understatement.

Vespa was either always in her habsuite or sprinting across the Plant to get something and go straight back to her habsuite.

Bumblebee tried once to make her stop during one of her sprints.

Bumblebee has Vespa grabbed by the waist. Bumblebee: “Gotcha!” Vespa lets out an unearthly shriek before biting on his servo. Bumblebee: “OW!” Vespa zooms back into her habsuite. Bumblebee is on the floor groaning at the bite marks on his servo. Bulkhead: “That looks like it hurt.” Bumblebee: “You think!”

Yeah, the yellow scout stopped trying to stop her after that.

Soon enough Optimus called in for a mini meeting to discuss Vespa’s situation.

He was no medic, but he knew that what she was doing definitely wasn’t healthy.

Ratchet backed him up, as a doctor, this indeed wasn’t healthy behavior at all.

They had tried to ask what was wrong in the past, but so far nothing has worked.

Optimus had tried to lure Vespa out with a chat, but she just politely patted his pede and left.

Ratchet tried to get her to talk with a medical examine… too bad she knew that she wasn’t scheduled for another physical exam yet.

Prowl tried to get her to go to the park, but that was immediately shot down when she sprinted the other way.

Bumblebee tried to get Vespa to sit down for a movie marathon, but it turns out the yellow bot still didn’t know what types of movies she liked watching yet.

Team Prime were grasping straws, trying to think of any other way to get Vespa to talk to them.

They had tried everything!

Expect…

Sari carefully knocked on Vespa’s door. Sari: “Vespa? Its Sari.” Nothing. Sari: “I’m not feeling good and could really use a friend—EEK!” Sari nearly had whiplash from how fast Vespa’s servo shot out and grabbed her into the habsuite. The bots hiding not too far from the door blinked. Prowl: “I don’t think I’ve seen a bots servo move that quickly…”

It took a couple minutes before Sari would emerge from the habsuite wearing a worried look on her face.

She relayed back that Vespa was worried about the Elite Guard showing up outside the Plant, waiting to snatch her up and bring her back to the stockades.

Oh… that explained a bit…

As the others were trying to think of ways to reassure Vespa that the Guard was not here, Bulkhead suddenly had an idea.

Bulkhead knocks on Vespa’s door. Vespa opens it a bit. Vespa: “Bulk?” Bulkhead: “Can we paint together?” Vespa opens the door a bit more with a confused expression. Vespa: “What ‘paint’ Bulk?” Bulkhead offers his servo to her. Bulkhead: “C’mon I’ll show you! And if you don’t like painting, I’m sure I can find you some other art we can get you to do.” Vespa looked around hesitantly. Bulkhead’s optics soften gently patting her helm. Bulkhead: “No one’s gonna hurt ya little buddy. It’ll just be me and you.” After a minute Vespa gives him a small smile and takes his servo.

Bulkhead makes it very clear to the others for his idea to work, it just needed to be him and Vespa alone.

Given the limited number of ideas, they let him continue.

After about an hour Bulkhead came back to the main room followed closely by Vespa.

She sill looked nervous, but a bit more relaxed.

The smaller bot was covered with wet and dry splotches of clay and paint.

In her servos she proudly presented her greatest creation.

A human sized mug and gifted it to Sari.

It had an atrocious orange and pink coloring, but Sari didn’t dare try and put the bots spirits down.

This made the bot beam with pride, something the team had never seen before.

The smile suited her.

After that day, Bulkhead was slowly trying to get Vespa to start creating things with the pottery set whenever she felt extremely nervous or scared, and it seemed to be working.

 It was a bit of a pain to scrap off the bits of dried and cracked clay from off her armor, but she had to admit it the activity did make her calmer, and she could make gifts for her new friends!

Team Prime swore to take in every one of Vespa’s sculptures no matter how weird looking or horrendous coloring it had.

[itwasthereaminuteago]

|| The Pantyeater Proxy ||

Frank castle x female reader

Tags/warnings: fluff, smut, Max!

💜 Reblogs and comments mean the world, thank you for reading! 💜

"What you got Max, buddy? What is that?"

By the time Frank wrestles the thing from his slobbering jaws, it's too late.

"Aw shit." He's holding up the black shreds that once were one of your favourite sets of lingerie.

"Goddamn it. You tryin' to get us thrown out?"

Max grumbles, looking up guiltily from his place the floor.

"Ain't no use sayin' sorry now, think we gotta go shoppin' boy."

He only had a few hours until you came back from work. Frank manages to decipher the brand from the small and partly-chewed label, maybe he can pick up a like-for-like replacement and you'll be none the wiser. More importantly, him and Max will avoid being in your bad books.

Frank is, admittedly, a little out of his element. You usually bought this kinda thing yourself, and Christ knows where you'd originally gotten it from. Things had started out okay, he'd gone to the nearest shop on Google, one with really good reviews, but now he was standing amongst mannequins and reams of hanging silk and lace bras, panties, teddies, slips, and anything else he could've imagined, completely lost. He couldn't even see the brand of the thing Max ate.

"Can I help, sir?"

Frank turns around to see a young woman about half his size, her face bearing what he recognises as a well used sympathetic expression for use on lost boyfriends and husbands.

He clears his throat. "Uh, yes ma'am. Any chance you carry this brand?"

She examines the torn label and then slowly starts to shake her head. "I'm sorry sir, we don't. I think it's actually discontinued. Were you looking for something specific?"

"Shit- excuse me ma'am, sorry, it's just my dog he uh... took a liking to my lady's things and made em into a chew toy. Kinda lookin' for a replacement or me and the dog might be sharing a kennel."

"Ah, yes." She smiles politely. "Could you give me an idea of what they were like and I could maybe find something similar?"

Frank scratches at the shorter hairs at the back of his head. "Uhh..."

She examines the frayed edge on the label. "Well we can start with black, right? Sooo lace, satin, silk, a combination? Wired or unwired bra? Full coverage, push-up, plunge, balconette, or maybe something a little more revealing? And how about the panty; brief, short, Brazilian, bikini, thong... crotchless? Do you know what styles she might like?"

Frank's head spins. "Shit, all I know is that she looked killer in them. You think you could gimme a quick crash course in all this, I can try tell you what she likes, definitely what she don't like- maybe find somethin' that won't get me my head ripped off?"

The shop assistant laughs. "Of course."

Frank returns to the apartment feeling more than a little apprehensive. He puts the fancy bag on the middle of the bed with a stern instruction for Max to leave well alone.

By the time you arrive home, he's almost forgotten about the incident, having been distracted with a phonecall from David asking if you guys were free for dinner this Saturday.

"-alright, yeah yeah 'course I'll bring some wine you dope. See ya then." He hangs up as he's walking over to give you a kiss.

"Hey sweetie, how was work?"

"Urgh, just the usual. Who was that?"

"Liebermann asking us to dinner tomorrow. Said yeah, we ain't got nothing else on right?" He helps you with your coat and you kick off your shoes and dump your bag on the couch.

"No that'll be really nice to see them. Okay I'm just gonna jump in the shower, then I'm all yours." You call as you're already walking into the bedroom to undress.

There's a beat, and then-

"Frank...? What's this?" You appear back at the doorway, the the bag dangling from the string handle on your hooked finger.

He sheepishly joins you in the bedroom. "An apology, from Max and me. Mainly Max as I ain't the one that ate your underwear." Frank looks over his shoulder at the dog curled up on the living room couch like he's denying all knowledge.

You snort. "Wait- what?!"

"M'sorry baby, I didn't catch him in time. Was hopin' it's a decent replacement, but if it ain't we can change it. You know I'm crap at this stuff."

You take out the tissue paper package from the bag, sitting on the bed and unwrapping it carefully on your lap. Whatever it is it's black. That's good, not that you were expecting some neon monstrosity from Frank, he was definitely one for the classic look when it came to the bedroom, but then again he'd say he thought you were smoking hot in a tatty old sweater and odd socks.

"You pick this?"

"Well I had some help from the shop (he left a big tip). But yeah. You like it?"

You run your fingers over the soft lacy cup of the wireless bralet, holding it up to look at it more closely. It was the right size anyway, one thing Frank was definitely good at was recon and attention to detail, that is if he didn't already have your bra size and other measurements ingrained in his brain. There were panties to match, not cut too high, again, silky soft, lacy and very sexy.

"I think I'm gonna have to try them on before I make up my mind on whether to forgive Max or not..."

A muscle in Frank's jaw twitches at the challenging look in your eyes as you take the contents of the bag into the ensuite with you, closing the door.

Frank is sat on the bed as you change, patiently waiting, almost biting his nails until you slowly emerge from the bathroom, one mouthwateringly delicious step at a time. You stop and pose, shifting your weight from hip to hip, pouting and biting your bottom lip at him.

"Hmm, what do you think? You wanna eat these panties, Frank?"

You're a fucking goddess. You were aways a goddess but holy crap, you wearing something he picked out and standing in front of him looking at him like that?

You smile a little wickedly as you climb on to him, and as you straddle his lap his hands are already all over your skin, brushing over the pretty straps and seams of your new undergarments.

"Sweetheart, baby, darlin', I wanna eat you."

You grab his face gently, "I was actually thinking that maybe we should save all this for tomorrow night, I'll wear these when we go to David and Sarah's for dinner. What do you reckon? Think you can keep your hands off me till tomorrow night when we get home?"

Frank has to grip his own thighs to stop himself from tackling you to the mattress right now. If this was his punishment it was gonna be unbearable.

"Yeah, okay, whatever you want." He husks, eyes darker than pools of ink.

You boop the end of his crooked nose with your finger before extricating yourself from over his tented sweatpants. "Good boy."

Frank groans as you leave him high and dry and disappear back into the bathroom to shower, wishing he could join you.

It wasn't easy tearing yourself away like that, you wanted him to ravish you as much as he did you. But still, he seemed keen to work for your forgiveness and he was only going to get that through some pretty hard repentance. And besides, you knew how fiery hot the sex was if the two of you had to wait for it.

Saturday night was only the next day and yet it felt like an eternity to Frank after not being able touch you. As he took in your pretty standard jeans and sweater combo his mouth was almost watering as he knew fine well what was hidden underneath. It didn't even matter that you were wearing sexy lingerie or not he just wanted you.

"Frank! Would you pass the fricken potatoes, please?!" David's apparently third request for potatoes shakes him out of his stupor.

"Earth to spaceman Frank, the hell is up with you?" He clicks his fingers either side of his head.

"Huh? Nothin', here." Frank grumbles as he finally sends more carbs David's way.

He's like this all night, and all you can do is try to hide your laughter behind a mouthful of food. Frank's been watching you like a hungry dog the whole time and you're living for it. Sarah knows something's going on but she doesn't ask for details.

"Let's just say he's being denied his treats for a little while." You explained to her with a wink in the kitchen later.

Sarah laughs as she tops up your wine glass. "Oh my god, they get so damn grouchy don't they?"

"And desperate," you add, and she hums knowingly as if she's recalling a specific incident, nodding emphatically.

"Hm, guess we better call it a night. I don't wanna make him suffer too much I guess."

"Oh you're far kinder than me!"

When you make a move to leave, Frank wastes absolutely no time grabbing his jacket and keys.

"Thanks for having us over you guys." You tell the couple, waving.

"No problem," David says, then gestures at Frank. "But hey, look after this big goon will you? His head doesn't seem like it's screwed on right."

"Yeah yeah whatever. G'night." Frank grabs your hand and pulls you towards the truck like the house is on fire as you giggle after him.

"Bye guys!"

When he pulls up at home you've barely shut the truck door before Frank's picking you up and marching to the front door. As soon as he's managed to unlock and slam it behind him he's got you up against the wall, your legs wrapped around his waist as he attacks your mouth with his. You gasp as he squeezes your ass through your jeans, mouth traveling down the side of your neck as his hips press against yours letting you feel just how hard you've got him. You claw and shove at his jacket, urging him to take it off and you quickly remove your own and kick off your boots as he shrugs it onto the floor and does the same. He picks you back up again, carrying you straight through to the bedroom. Max raises his head briefly and then grunts as he goes back to sleep.

Once you land on the bed Frank is all over you, big hands caressing your body through your sweater which he yanks up over your head but doesn't remove completely, leaving your arms trapped before his mouth is back on your skin worshipping absolutely every inch of you, his lips and tongue trailing over the lace that contains your breasts.

"Frank- fuck!" You buck your hips up against his.

"Mm you want this now?" He growls and lets you free. You tug at his flannel and he's barely pulled it off before your hands are slipping up under his black shirt and feeling over his stomach and pecs, mapping your territory.

"God, you know how hard it was not to fuck you over that goddamn dining table?"

You tug and pull his belt free from the buckle, yanking down the zipper and slipping your hand in to stroke him firmly through his black boxer briefs. You bite down on your bottom lip, it's like a steel rod. "Was it this hard? Huh?"

"Fuck, baby- you know it." He hisses as you work him through the soft fabric, leaning down and kissing you so hungrily you're soaking though those pretty panties he bought you. It's as if he can sense it, unbuttoning your jeans and thrusting his hand down in front without bothering to take them off. His fingers are firm and focused, tracing the line of your folds where the silk is damp and sticking to your core from your arousal.

"God damn sweetheart..."

You moan as he strokes and cups your pussy, ruining your panties with how turned on you are. You move your hips against his hand, enjoying the delicious friction as you keep rubbing and squeezing his rock hard erection until neither of you can wait any longer. It's you that breaks first, pushing him away while you shimmy out of your jeans in record time. He does the same until he kneeling naked in front of you. You're still wearing the underwear that started all this and you intend to keep wearing it as you crawl forward, push him to lay back on the bed and mount him. He watches you transfixed as you spread your knees wide, simply pulling your panties to one side and sliding slowly down to take his cock inside, inch by fucking beautiful inch. You moan together as he bottoms out, feeling the completeness as he throbs and you squeeze. His hands skate up your back and you start to rock your hips back and forth, the feeling of him dragging against this deepest part of you like nothing else.

"God, you're so fucking incredible." He tells you, those dark brown eyes darting everywhere trying to take in all of you at once.

"So are you. Feels so good Frank-"

Your breath soon changes to short pants as you bounce yourself up and down on his dick, and he holds on to your hips, thrusting his own upwards to meet you, your gorgeous tits looking like they're about to jiggle right out of that little lacy bralet.

"Oh fuck, that's it baby, so good.." He looks down to watch his cock disappear in and out of you, getting covered with more of your cream each time. Your fingers dig into his chest as you hold on, throwing your head back as he palms and caresses one of your breasts, earning a wanton moan from you when he rubs and pinches your hard nipple between his fingers.

You wrap your fingers around his wrist and guide him to where you need him.

"Alright sweetheart, I got you." His breath is coming harder as he watches you intensely, seeing the pleasure twist your features into a picture of ecstacy when he slips his hand between the damp lace and your skin and circles his fingers right on your clit. You fall forward against him and he's got you, one hand between your hot bodies and the other holding your jaw, his thumb over the front of your throat as he keeps fucking up into you hard.

It's been a struggle not to lose his mind already before this point, you're just magic, absolute witchcraft to him. The way you had him begging for your touch, the way you look no matter if you're wearing sexy clothes or not, the way you fucking feel riding his cock. He's gonna see stars soon, he knows it.

Luckily you're on the same page, your moans getting louder and higher, the way you still your body, feeling him pounding into you...

"F-frank I'm-" you gasp as he doubles down, hips pistoning as he rubs your slick throbbing clit so fast you'd swear he was using a toy.

"Come on princess, let me feel it." Frank's strained plea drives you over the edge, undulating your hips with his again as the feeling bubbles up and bursts out from your center and through the rest of your body. You moan into his mouth as he kisses you so passionately, tongue twisting and lapping against yours. He groans long and deep as your tremors bring on his own sweet release, holding on to you tightly, burying himself into you in a last few powerful thrusts.

The two of you lie wrapped in each other for a while, just breathing, until Max pads into the room and starts licking Frank's foot.

"Here's trouble." He announces as he lets his head thunk back on the mattress while you gingerly sit up and raise yourself off him.

"I forgive him." You say smiling at Max as he wags his tail seemingly in understanding.

"You know they say don't blame the dog, blame the owner? Will you forgive me?" Frank looks up at you with the saddest puppy eyes you've ever seen.

"After that? And this?" You say, gesturing to what you're wearing. "Yeah, I think you get a pass too."

You grab his hand and help pull him up. "C'mon baby, let's shower and then take Pantyeater for a walk."

[sharpbutsoft]

Wip Wednesday!

Thank you @buick118 for the tag 💞 tagging @cranberrymoons @clytemnestraaa and anyone else who’s writing right now!

This is from a buddie college au I’ve been toying with after a conversation with cly got me in my feels about mature student single father Eddie bonding with post-peru Buck over a college elective they’re both bad at in different ways. Under a cut cause it’s a long snippet :)

Eddie gets the text a little after eight on Friday while he’s curled up on the sofa with Christopher half asleep by his side. Party at mine, u in? Followed by an address in an area he’s unfamiliar with.

It’s from Buck, because of course it is.

I didn’t know you lived in a frat house.

The tv’s turned low, so as not to disturb Abuela and her friends’ weekly card game, though they should be finishing up soon. Pilar likes to be in bed by nine, though Ana Maria keeps trying to convince Abuela to let her leave first, then continue the game when she’s gone.

Or so he’s heard.

It’s just a normal house lol

Normal house party

There’s even going to be girls…

Eddie laughs, though it turns to guilt when he realises the noise disturbed Chris.

“What’s so funny, daddy?”

He’s getting so big. So wide-eyed and happy, so trusting.

“Nothing, kiddo.” He slowly takes Chris by the arms and, when he receives no protest, pulls his son all the way into his lap. “Did I wake you? I’m sorry.”

“No, I wasn’t sleepy,” Chris lies. He’s getting really good at his developmentally appropriate lying. Which is a weird thing to be proud of, Eddie knows. But as soon as it became apparent Chris wasn’t going to make certain milestones, or would be late to them, or would need surgery to even have a chance to see them…

So Eddie just lets himself hold twice as much pride when Chris lies, or when he reads his book aloud, or can tell the time on Abuela’s big red analog kitchen clock.

“Well, you might not be sleepy, but-“ Eddie yawns as long and wide as he can until Chris is giggling beside him- “I definitely am. Do you think maybe you could try and go to bed, so I can too?”

Chris looks at him with furrowed concentration, then down at the sofa they’re sharing which, when he goes to sleep in Abuela’s spare room, will become Eddie’s bed. And concedes, a little.

“Okay, but I’m not even a little teeny bit tired so I think I can get in bed but stay awake.”

They brush their teeth together, and change into pyjamas, and by the time Chris is settled and Eddie’s returned to the sofa he has four more texts from Buck.

And booze

Probably some casual games like beer pong

But yeah it’s kicking off around 10 I think

I’m working until 11 so if you wait til then I could even pick you up?

If you live nearby

Wow.

[deathworlders-of-e24]

Thomas, Engineer

Part 4

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sparks burst upwards into the goggles Thomas was wearing, the plasma cutter in his hand burning at several hundred degrees, focused to an incredibly fine point. Holding it in his work gloves was awkward at best, but years of practice had made him exceptional at his job. Sixer and Mace might’ve been better at the finer detail work, Padrino had incredible dexterity after all, but making custom tools was well within his wheel house too.

The two bot brothers had asked him to make a special kind of nano wrench while they ran a ‘memory sweeper’ program through his old translator, the one that had caught that rogue signal all those cycles ago. The group had been working on it in their off time between maintenance requests, and they were finally just steps away from the answers they were looking for. All they needed now was to strip the memory code out of the device, and for that they needed itty bitty tiny nanoscopic tools; ergo, while the twins worked their programs, Thomas got to work making the things they’d need.

He was almost done too, when the comm-link trilled. A patch job in the security chief’s office, apparently one of the terminals was unresponsive and the door was getting jammed up on something. Personal projects would have to wait.

“Roomba, we got a job. You coming with or hanging out here?”

[Statement: you operate at greater efficiency when this unit is present]

“That’s right buddy, but I’m asking what you wanna do,” Thomas said.

“Beep.”

[Statement: I would like to assist please]

“Thanks Roomba, I appreciate that.” Thomas held his arm out and the little droid climbed up to his usual perch on the man’s shoulder. “Look at you, making decisions for yourself. Good for you bud!”

Thomas adored the little robot, and as Roomba got smarter, that feeling only grew. Every day the small cleaning drone was getting more clever, his AI evolving ever further, thanks to the upgrades from Sixer and Mace. Pretty soon Roomba would be as smart as Thomas was.

Maybe I’ll teach him how to play virtual chess, he thought. Or I’ll build him a little controller and we can split screen a blaster battle game or something!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The two made their way through the ship, waving and saying hello to the many people who stopped Thomas to look at the small robot on his shoulder. At this point in their mission, it was common knowledge that one of the humans had made a cleaning drone their ‘pet’, although Thomas was trying to make it clear that wasn’t the case. Roomba was his own person, he just so happened to have very little legs and it was faster to just catch a ride on his human companion. It probably didn’t help that outside himself and the Padrino, nobody else had the hardware to understand what Roomba was saying, so all they ever heard was Beep.

They made it up to the command deck and knocked on the door to the Chief’s office. It opened halfway before getting stuck, hidden gears grinding, and there was the Chief, leaning on his desk with a data pad in his hand. Thomas figured Chief Ducane was kinda cute, what with his scruffy yet trimmed beard and his various tattoos, but macho wasn’t really his thing on guys. That being said, he could see why some on the crew were whispering about him, the man was built. Thomas tried getting his attention through the crack.

“Reporting Chief, you sent a maintenance request?” Thomas said through the gap in the door.

“Yeah, I did,” Chief Ducane looked up. “Oh right, you’re Thomas right? I don’t remember if I’ve introduced myself yet, I’m Danny Ducane. You’re the guy with the domesticated maintenance droid, right?” The Chief got up to the door and pulled it open himself, the hydraulics groaning as it slid open the rest of the way.

“He’s not…” Thomas started, annoyed, but took a beat. Don’t antagonize the guy who can pull apart the doors. “This is Roomba, he has an adaptive learning AI now, like the Padrino on the crew. He’s not a pet.”

Roomba looked up when Thomas said his name and trilled angrily at the idea of being equated to a house cat.

“Beep.”

[Statement: Please inform the other human that I am not domesticated in any way, and would prefer that not get said again]

“He said you’re being rude,” Thomas explained.

“Beep.”

[Sufficiently put]

Chief Ducane looked at the two of them for a moment before raising his hands in defeat.

“Okay, fair enough, that was a dick move on my part. Sorry little guy, didn’t know you were one of the clever bots.”

Thomas nudged his tool bag with his foot, and the Chief took the message.

“Right, my control console is fritzing out,” Ducane said, shuffling awkwardly towards his desk. “The screen blurs every couple minutes, and the door got stuck this morning, don’t know what that’s about either.” The chief stood there, gesturing to his desk with one hand, the other fumbling to put the data pad down where Thomas suspected he thought he wouldn’t be able to see it. It occurred to him that Chief Ducane might not be the most technologically savvy, considering you could read a data pad from either side, and the exact same script was frozen on his console screen. It looked like a checklist of sorts, but Thomas wasn’t here to snoop classified documents. Unless it’d be funny, then maybe.

“Right,” Thomas said, eyeing the chief, “it’s probably just an electrical short, a little leftover from that solar flare the other day. I’ll have to strip some wiring but it’s a quick fix. Though the door might have to be taken out so I can get into the motors.”

“And how long will that take?” Ducane asked.

“Maybe an hour? Maybe more?” Thomas shrugged. “Takes as long as it takes for me to get in there.”

Thomas looked at him a moment, standing there with his hands on his sides. He could hear Roomba’s mechanical innards ticking and whirring as the little bot held onto his perch on Thomas’s shoulder.

“Guess I should let you get to it then,” Chief Ducane said, clapping his hands and heading for the door, but he stopped before he left, like he’d just remembered he’d left the stove on or some such.

“Hey, just a quick question,” he said, turning back to face Thomas. The chief’s hands were fidgeting, hooking and unhooking his thumbs into his pockets. “Are you acquainted with the Sed engineers? Kor and Taren?”

Thomas thought for a moment, then shrugged.

“Sure, I’ve seen them around. Why?”

“They ever seem real busy for unknown reasons?”

“Honestly? Like you want my work appropriate answer or my actual opinion?”

“Both.”

“Well my work appropriate answer is sure, they seem good at their jobs, usually off together on requests.”

“And your personal opinions?” Chief Ducane pressed, crossing his arms and shifting to stand in the doorway, as if he was keeping Thomas sequestered until he got answers to his odd line of questions. Thomas didn’t need to ponder the question that long.

“Honestly? Honestly they kinda suck,” He blurted out, a little more venomously than he’d intended. “Like, okay, don’t get me wrong, you ask them questions and they give the right answers, they know how things work and they know the right tool for the jobs, but work wise? Half the time nobody can find them. I’ve had three repair jobs handed over to me in the last two weeks ‘cause they’re off somewhere fooling around.”

“Fooling around?” Ducane intoned, “as in…?”

“Well we just kinda assumed they were an item. And look, we’re sympathetic, but the work load is insane on a ship this size with this many conflicting requirements. Temperature differences for different races, atmospheric controls bottoming out, I got a guy with four arms for a boss and even he thinks it’s ridiculous how often stuff around here breaks.”

“So you all just assumed they were off somewhere… doing that, while you all just put up with it? Has anyone seen them like this?” Chief Ducane pushed.

“Roomba did,” Thomas said, tilting his head the little droid’s direction, “while we were doing repairs in the air ducts a couple cycles ago.”

“Beep.”

[Please do not disclose this information]

“Huh?” Thomas put the little droid in his palm and let him stand for himself. “What’s up buddy?”

“What’s he saying?” The chief asked, shifting focus from Thomas to Roomba and back again.

“Beep.”

[Disclosure of this information will bring my work efficiency into question]

Ohhhhhhh, Thomas thought.

“He’s just saying how weird what he saw was,” Thomas shiftily explained, patting the little droid on the head. “We were working some repairs in the ducts when Roomba saw Taren in another part of the ship through the grating. He was on a comm-link and Kor showed up with a thing Roomba didn’t recognize, but from what he told me it was some hand tool I think.”

“So maybe they were just on another job and not screwing around?” Ducane questioned.

“Nah, couldn’t be, I was supposed to be the only repair guy in that part of the ship at the time. Everyone else is still supposed to be in the core room making repairs after that solar flare.”

Thomas took a deep breath and looked Ducane in the eye.

“Chief, be straight with me, is something going on on my ship?”

“What do you mean your ship?” Ducane scoffed.

“Trust me, this ship has already gotten enough of my blood, sweat, and tears man. I probably love her more than anyone else on this boat, so yeah, she’s my ship.” Thomas was getting a tad red in the face as he said this, which was fair, as it was slightly embarrassing to voice this odd idea of his. “Look man, this ship might be just a job to you, but it’s not just that to me, okay? So if there’s something happening here that could hurt her, I’m not gonna let that happen.”

How odd that a simple maintenance request could have such an impact on his day?

Roomba reach up and tugged on Thomas’s earlobe.

“Beep.”

[New Task Uploaded: protect Noah. Confirm?]

“That’s right Roomba, that’s what we’re gonna do,” Thomas said, weirdly amped up now. Chief Ducane stood there looking at him incredulously.

“Is every kid in the galaxy just ready to ride shotgun off to war these days? I swear, you younger guys need to do something more productive and fun with all that extra energy you have.”

“Shove it… respectfully, Chief.”

“Well if it makes you feel any better, I don’t have anything concrete that something is happening, not that I could tell you if I did.” Ducane shrugged and crossed his arms again, leaning against the wall. The data pad behind them on the desk trilled, a new file had been sent to it, and before the tones had silenced themselves, Thomas felt as if his neurons had just taken a bolt of electricity across his frontal lobe. He turned back to face the Security Chief with a dread look tacked onto his face.

“Hypothetically, Chief, if somebody had possibly intercepted a weird transmission while outside the broadcast shields, how important would that be?”

Chief Ducane stared at him a moment, then clasped his hands together in front of his mouth before sighing uncomfortably hard.

“I’d say that’d be pretty important, kid.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I thought you were supposed to be smart!” Danny half accused, walking quickly down the hall away from the lift.

“Man, I’m like actually a genius, I have four degrees, but nobody ever accused me of being smart,” Thomas said, shrugging. “I didn’t want to get kicked off the ship if it was nothing, which it probably is!”

“You wouldn’t have gotten kicked off the ship. If I can’t even get rid of Grite, you’re as safe as can be.”

“Oh, okay,” Thomas said sarcastically, “then I totally should’ve spilled it when, while on a space walk, my somewhat illegally jailbroke translator picked up a rogue signal on the long range communications array for the ship I just got a job on. I’ve seen people canned for less, I could’ve been tried for espionage or something.”

“You did what?”

Thomas and Danny turned on theirs heels to see Odis the Galley standing in the doorway they’d just passed, a ‘coffee’ mug in hand. It had a cartoonish drawing of a purple cow on it.

“Oh good, we’re just telling the whole ship now, I guess,” Danny pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m definitely getting fired.”

“Wait wait wait, Odis is cool,” Thomas vouched. “He’s a real stand up guy.”

“What did you do now humie?” Odis groaned, downing whatever was in his mug before sprinting to join them. His shorter legs had to move twice as fast to keep up with the taller humans.

“So you know that project the twins and I have been working on?” Thomas asked.

“Yeah, you’ve been using your off hours for something that’s not video games, of course I noticed.”

“Fired…,” Danny moaned. “Court marshalled even.”

“Quiet big human, the smart human is talking.”

“Oh no, we’ve established that word doesn’t apply to me.”

“Beep.”

[Thank you for not telling the human I fell down the air ducts]

It was a wonder how the entire ship didn’t know what they were doing by then, seeing as they were not exactly discreet as they headed down to the maintenance decks. When the group of them finally made the locker room, more than one set of eyes was watching them, though it was mostly Chief Ducane they were looking at. It wasn’t exactly normal operating procedures for the Chief of Security to walk into their locker room.

“How is it that you humans are always up to something ridiculous?” Odis asked, shaking his bulbous gray head. “I mean, as a Galley, I’m actually impressed with the level of… what’s a good human word for this nonsense?”

“Shenanigans?” Thomas offered.

“Ridiculous words, ridiculous people…,” Odis laughed. “The cows are cool, but the rest of your world is just a mess of weird, huh?”

The humans didn’t respond, though given any thought, they couldn’t have refuted the Galley anyway.

Sixer and Mace stood at their work table, the terminal screen running thousands of lines of code a second. Thomas would’ve loved to comb through it given the chance, but now wasn’t the time.

“Twins!” he called over, “Got it up and going?”

“Almost, Human Thomas,” Sixer replied.

“Hello, Security Chief Ducane,” Mace greeted.

“Yeah, hi guys,” Danny said. “I hear you all have been working a little side project?”

The two Padrino turned to each other and each gave a quick burst of machine speak before turning back to face them.

“Human Thomas, do you believe it is time to inform the ship’s command structure of our findings?”

“You could say that, yeah,” Thomas nodded.

“Good, because we have finished preparations. We simply need the tool you made up and to see if the sweeper program retrieves any data.”

Thomas patted down his coveralls before fishing the nano-wrench from his inner pocket. He handed the tool to Sixer, who turned back to the table and made the final adjustments.

“Moment of truth, I guess,” he said.

“You realize I’m going to be extremely pissed if you got me down here and all worked up for nothing,” Danny said pointedly.

“Understood… sir,” Thomas swallowed hard.

The computer ran its program, thousands, hundreds of thousands of lines of code fluttering across the screen, the Padrino’s speed was impressive to say the least. They definitely had to teach him that sometime.

After a minute of them staring at the terminal in silence, the screen showed a resounding-

“Nothing?” Thomas and Danny said in unison.

“Correct,” Sixer said.

“Unfortunately,” continued Mace, “the translators are not equipped with enough memory storage to log something the size of a communications transmission.”

“So we’ve got nothing?” Thomas said, hands clenched at his sides. He didn’t know what he wanted the signal to be, but nothing was… incredibly unsatisfying, to say the least.

“Did you try to see recipient data?” Odis asked, eyeing the console code.

“What?” Thomas turned to him, confusion distorting the disappointment on his face.

“With the long range array, it’s got recipient data built into the message, so the thing knows who it’s going to,” Odis explained slowly. “Back in the day, we Galley used to strip data out of long range messages to find new planets to… interact with. It’s how we found the humies first, caught all those messages you kept throwing out into space.” Odis rifled through one of his side pockets and brought out something that looked like a key fob with a port on one end. He popped open a panel in the terminal and plugged it in, hitting a couple keys to sync the programs together. Thomas watched, confusion and disappointment morphing into a cautious optimism. Maybe they’d find something after all.

“And here… we… go!” Odis said smugly, triumphantly hitting the execute key. The screen rolled the code again, but this time information began loading, the computer compiling the data for them.

“And you just happen to have this… why?” Danny looked sternly in the Galley’s direction.

“If it makes you feel any better Chief, most of my free time has been spent with the kid playing Terran video games,” Odis snickered. “Don’t worry about what I’ve been up to, worry about whoever is sending messages to the GAIL High Council.”

“What the hell?” Danny exclaimed, leaning over the console to examine the data.

Sure enough, they couldn’t recover any of the message, the data was just too big for the little device to have caught any. However, Odis’s tracer did show that whatever the signal was, it had gone straight to someone by the name of Mons on the High Council of the Grand Assembly of Intelligent Lifeforms.

“Chief, what the hell are we looking at?” Thomas asked, for the first time actually realizing that something could be deeply, darkly wrong on the ship.

“This doesn’t make any sense, communications can’t go directly to the Council, not without going through Captain Skitch and me,” Danny kept looking at the screen, rereading the data from start to finish, over and over again, before pulling out his data pad and copying all of it down, taking photos too.

“What are you doing?” Sixer asked.

“Making sure whatever we have here, there’s multiple copies so we can’t lose any proof later.”

“Do you suspect there’s another agenda aboard this ship Chief Ducane?” Mace followed.

“… I sincerely hope not, but either way, none of this ever happened. Not a single one of you saw any of this, okay? Nothing and no one,” Danny looked at each of them in turn, making sure they understood his meaning, “is going to hear about any of this. And when I call any of you to my office, it’s double time, understood?”

“You got it Chief,” Thomas said immediately, the others following suit, but with much less gusto.

“Beep.”

[Task: protect Noah in progress]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The work shift ended with no more excitement, however Thomas’s heart rate hadn’t declined even a bit in the following hours. The idea that something could threaten the ship, his ship, the ship he’d almost died for already, filled him with some very mixed emotions, not the least of which was apprehension. It did reassure him that Chief Ducane seemed like a good guy, and that he wasn’t going to take any disciplinary measures against the worker crew for anything, but the idea that they could be called on to actually do something was daunting.

Walking to the mess hall, Thomas realized he’d never actually made any of the requested repairs to Danny office. He pulled a comm-link out of his back pocket and sent a quick “sorry, I’ll be right there to fix the door” text, but was alarmed at what the Chief of Security replied almost instantly.

>Someone searched my office while cameras were out of commission. Nothing is missing. They took advantage of the door being jammed and unlocked<

Another message:

>Don’t come up here, it’ll look suspicious for the both of us. I’ll make another request tomorrow. Tell your friends to be careful, and come to me immediately if you see anything at all<

Thomas shakily put the comm-link back in his pocket and headed back towards the Vending Machines. He saw Odis sitting in the corner and joined him after getting his food.

“You ever think someone in the GAIL could do something pretty bad?”

“What, you think you humans have a monopoly on being kind of shitty?” Odis snorted. “You’re not that weird, you know.”

[honestlydarkprincess]

WIP Wednesday!

tagged by the lovely @bekkachaos, @spotsandsocks, @eddiebabygirldiaz

have a lil bit of let's fuck up the friendship or the buddie fwb fic :3 now, have i shared this before? probably! but if you recognize it, just pretend you don't cause i got nothing else<3

When Eddie woke up it was a gradual thing. He slowly became aware of the warmth along his back and the arm pillowed under his head. He snuggled against Buck behind him, feeling more content than he had in a very, very long time. Buck’s soft snores told him that he was still asleep and Eddie contemplated what he wanted to do next. Did he want to sneak out of bed and go get them breakfast? Or would that chance Buck waking up alone and thinking that Eddie left? No, okay that wasn’t a good idea then. Maybe he could make Buck breakfast in bed? He wasn’t a great cook but he could manage breakfast.

Before he could decide he felt more than heard Buck groan behind him, his arm tightening around Eddie’s stomach where it had stayed all night, keeping Eddie snug against him. “I can practically hear you thinking,” Buck murmured, his breath warm on Eddie’s neck. “Are you freaking out?”

“No, I was wondering what you wanted for breakfast,” Eddie said back, keeping his voice just as soft as Buck.

“Hmm, I want pancakes,” Buck said, slowly pulling away from Eddie in order to stretch. He groaned as his joints popped before curling back up against Eddie.

“We’re going to have to get out of bed if you want pancakes,” Eddie laughed, although he made no move to do just that.

Buck made a sound of disgust. “But I’m comfortable,” He whined, smushing his face in the back of Eddie’s neck.

Eddie chuckled and reached behind him, gently petting Buck’s hair as best he could without looking. “We can always come back to bed after eating, you know that right?”

“Yeah, but that means getting out of bed in the first place,” Buck said playfully.

“C’mon, babe,” Eddie murmured, turning over in Buck’s hold so they were face to face. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Buck whispered back, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to Eddie’s lips. “Now it’s a good morning.”

“Sap,” Eddie rolled his eyes, nudging Buck’s shoulder, but he was smiling, happiness shining on his face. “Breakfast?”

Buck sighed dramatically but got out of bed, grumbling the whole time about ‘hot dudes telling him what to do.’

tagging: @bigfootsmom, @lonelychicago, @monsterrae1, @father-salmon, @underwaterninja13

@beyourownanchor6, @rathockey, @userautumn, @useramor, @usersiren

@piningbuddies, @outdiaz, @devirnis, @vanmarkus, @sleepywinchesters

@maygrantgf, @remembertheskittles, @anti-homophobia-cheese, @exhuastedpigeon, @fear0phobia

@thiamsxbitch, @fruchtfliege, @ksbbb, @hemlocksandfoxgloves

[magicalbuttertarts]

Damian Priest x f/Reader (18+) (AU)

WWE Masterlist

Just like all my other stories, this has not been proofread, but please enjoy.

Warnings: unprotected sex. P in v sex. Anal sex. Cum oral (m & f receiving) use of dildo. Creampie. Marriage.

WC: 2335

Gifs & photos do not belong to me: 1st gif: @fireflyeditzz

©️magicalbuttertarts 2024: do not repost or translate my work. This is the only place I post my work.

Idea came because @floofysashimi shared the title photo.

"Okay, okay, that is enough practice for today." Our drummer & backup singer, Rhea called out as I sighed, hanging my head as I gripped my guitar a bit too tight for my liking.

"We still have a few hours left until we should call it quits." The electronic keyboard player, Dominik said as he wrapped his arms around our other backup singer, Liv's waist, pulling her against his side.

Our Bass player, Finn was only walking off with some groupies.

"We will be back here tomorrow for the music video." I called out, already regretting doing this music video.

I didn't want too, but our manger insisted that our band Judgement Day, should.

"You good Damian?" Rhea asked me as she walked up to me.

She is the only one who knows me better than I know myself.

People thought we were together, but we are actually just really good friends. Her husband is a good guy, and will randomly travel with us on the road.

"Just don't think those three give a fuck about this anymore. Finn is always late and wondering where his next lay will come from, and don't get me started on Dominik and Liv."

"Okay, calm down there big fella. Let's go out and have some fun. Maybe a few hours at the club will ease your stress." Rhea suggested.

"Buddy meeting us?" Knowing she only goes out when he is in town.

"Yeah, got us in the VIP section at XS Las Vegas."

"Fine. I'll go. Just to see what the fuss is about with it. I have heard about it."

The music was loud, the woman were all over me like usual, but I know what they are after. Just one night with me to brag to all of their friends about spending the night with Damian Priest, lead singer of Judgement Day.

Rhea and Buddy were all over one another, as were Dominik and Liv.

The four of them were making me almost nauseated, so I decided to leave tbe VIP section and head outside to grab some fresh air.

But as I did that, I walked right into someone, my arms wrapping around them to keep from falling.

Their hands are laying on my chest and I was about to ask if they were okay as I looked down and for once in my life, no words came to me as I looked down at the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.

I saw them mouth, "Are you okay?" And all I could do was nod my head yes.

I leaned down to whisper in their ear, "Can I buy you a drink?" They nodded their head yes, and the two of us walked back to the bar for me to replace the drink I spilled.

◆

I brought her back to the VIP section, and the only thing I caught was her name before we started to make out.

I pulled her into my lap, not caring for once if people were taking photos of me, as I wanted everyone to know that I have the most beautiful woman in my arms, kissing me as she grinded her body on top of me.

"Come back to my hotel room." I muttered against the kiss, making her whine my name before agreeing.

The two of us left my band members behind, her hand in mine as walked us out of the club and to the Uber that is waiting outside for us.

◆

I woke up the morning, with her gone, with only a few things to remind me of her.

Her lipstick stained against my skin.

The indents of where she dug her nails into my skin.

I licked my lips, groaning at the faint taste of her pussy still lingering on my lips, as I ate her out until she pushed me away, begging for me to fuck her.

Her gasps and moans echoing in mind as I started the shower.

I looked over my body, looking over all the little marks she left on me, and then my eyes were focused on my cock.

Her bouncing in my lap flashed before my eyes and I groaned at the thought of how tight her fucking pussy was. How it felt like it was trying to strangle my cock.

Then I noticed the red stain on my cock, remembering how she applied her lipstick once more just before she sucked me off.

Her eyes closed as she took me down her throat and then how her eyes teared up as I fucked her face until I came, groaning her name as I felt her swallow it all.

When I pulled back from her mouth, she smiled at me, opening her mouth to prove that it was all gone.

All I could do was moan as I picked her up to throw her on the bed, crawling between her thighs and fucking her into the mattress until her body wash shaking and my cum leaking out of her abused pussy.

The alarm on my phone brought me back down to earth, making me swear under my breath as I hopped into the shower, washing away our night together.

◆

"Places everyone. We will film just the band, and then the model will come after." The director called out from his seat.

"Not even the makeup crew could get rid of that hickey on your chest huh?" Rhea teased me as she walked past me.

"I see someone had a good time." Finn said next to me, lifting his sunglasses and wincing at the lights, before placing them back on.

"Okay, yes, I had a good time. Not let's get this done and over with." I said, loudly.

"You gonna see her again?" Liv asked me, as she stood next to Dominik.

"Most likely not. Only caught her first name."

"Once again, please people. Good good. Dim the lights. Good, good, action."

Time to get this day started.

◆

"Okay, bring out the girls." I gringed when the director called them that.

I could hear the sound of their heels and boots walking this way, and I was talking to Finn about what we are going to do next, when I heard the Director call for us to take our places once more.

I was assigned one model who would I would jump off the stage for and pretend to dance with as the music played around us.

"Damian, you see her, the one right in the middle, you were jump down and walk to her, okay."

I looked over at who he was pointing at, and I almost chocked on my spit.

It was her.

The woman from last night.

Her and I made eye contact, and her eyes got real wide as she saw me standing there, looking at her.

"She is gorgeous. Your manager picked good." The Director whistled, but stopped when he saw me turn my gaze to him.

He cleared his throat and told us to start.

I stood in my spot, watching her, to make sure she didn't disappear like she did this morning.

◆

The music was playing as I mouthed the words to the song I wrote.

It is time for me to jump off the stage and walk towards her, the other people fading into the background as the room went dark, except for her and I.

She pretended to walk away, but I pulled her back towards me, her hands landing on my chest just like yesterday when we met.

I placed my hand under her chin for her to look at me, as my other arm pulled her flush against my body.

Her perfume making me groan to myself before I kissed her, which wasn't in the script for the video, but the director kept rolling until the music faded away, the two of us still making out with everyone around us.

"I think we got it. All done for the day everyone. Good job."

People clapped around us, as I pulled my lips away from her, her eyes were half-closed as she looked up at me.

"Damian? We will meet up with you later." Rhea called out, pulling Dominik and Finn with her, with Liv most likely giggling.

"Come back with me again, or if you are hungry, we can go out to eat." I asked her once more.

"Damian, it was fun for one night, but it wouldn't work between us." She said.

"Why not?"

"You travel and I do as well. We wouldn't see eachother."

"Then come back for one last night together. I can't get you out of my head." I was honest with her.

"One more night, Damian."

◆

As I sat on our private plane, I looked out the window as I watched the video I recorded of us, the sounds of our love making going directly to my ears through my headphones.

"Just like that Damian. Fuck." She cried out as I rutted into her from behind, my cock buried in her pussy as I pushed her head into the mattress, her head turned towards the camera.

Her screaming out my name as she came, her pussy fluttering around my cock as she pulled an orgasm from my body.

I watched myself reach for my phone to zoom on her pussy, which was leaking my cum.

I watched another video of me between her spread thighs, her hand gripping my head as her other hand held the camera to record me eating her out.

Soft whines of my name I could hear as I ate her out, my eyes focused on her face, that I could not see on the camera.

Her body arched as she came, moaning loudly as ate her out and fingered her. I pulled my mouth away, and I could see my chin coated in her juices.

I licked my lips imaging the taste of her was still there.

Video after video played, and I had to go to the washroom to jerk off.

I watched my favourite video of all as I jerked myself off.

My phone was facing the bed as she rode me, her back arched and my hands on her hips as I helped her bounce in my lap.

As she came, she collapsed against my chest, her ass still bouncing in my lap as she used my cock to get off.

Then she got off of me and wrapped her lips around my cock just as I shouted out her name, my cum filling her mouth once more.

Her eyes were focused on my phone as she swallowed, kissing the tip as she moved her head away.

With grunt of her name, I came, not caring if anyone heard me. Wishing she was here, and not me jerking off on some private plane.

◆

I invited her to our concerts, and she showed up whe she could.

Her backstage, watching me the whole entire time.

Us going back to whatever hotel I am staying at.

Until I was able to convince her to go out on a date with me.

Which brought the paparazzi, which I should have known would happen.

It was all over the internet and even in magazines the next day.

'The Rockstar and The Model. Will it last?' Seemed to be main question, which had me fuming.

"Come on Damian, who cares what they think. Come back to bed or I will have to start with out you." She teased from the bed.

"You wouldn't dare." I put down my phone just as she flung back the blankets, and I could see she had a dildo in her hand.

But not just any dildo, but the one I had made just for her, the exact copy of my cock.

"Go on baby, fuck yourself with it."

My hand wrapped around my cock as I watched her insert it in her pussy, her whining my name.

"That's it baby. Keep it there and turn around, hands and knees. I want to stuff you full." She did exactly what I asked as I stood.

Grabbing the lube from my bag and quickly lathering my cock with it, her spreading her ass as I got closer.

I groaned at the sight as I have already fucked her there today.

I slid into her ass, inch by agonising inch until I bottomed out.

"How do you feel baby?" I asked her as I kissed her between her shoulder blades.

"Full. So full Damian."

"Good." Was all I said before I started to thrust in and out of her ass.

◆

Been four months of us dating and five months of us non-stop fucking.

We were once again in Vegas, and I was driving around with her next to me.

"You wanna get married?" I asked her, knowing she is the one for me.

"What? Right now?" She asked me, turning her body to look at me.

"Yeah, we pick a church and we get married."

"So romantic Damian." She teased. "But of course I will marry you."

We were married 45 minutes later, us driving off to the secluded cabin I rented, but I first had to pull off to the side of this empty, dirt road as I held her back of her head, as my hips thrust up into her mouth as she moaned around my cock.

"My wife is taking my cock so well down her throat. Like she was meant for me." I groaned as she was licking up and down my cock as I fucked her face.

My loud groan was her only warning as I came down her throat, the two of us moaning as she made qucik work to swallow.

I was breathing heavy as I let go of her hair and she sat up.

I smashed my mouth against hers, moaning at the fact that I can taste my cum on her lips.

"I love you my darling wife."

"I love you too, my sweet husband."

Tag list: @lghockey @nicoleveno14 @legit9thlunaticwarrior @hooks-martin @madhatterbri @wwenhlimagines @melissahausen @tahiri-veyla @terrortwinunicorn

[saveyourblood]

Pretty Boy - Ch 6 (Buddie x Reader)

Summary: You can feel Buck staring. When your eyes meet his, you realize he’s staring at your hand, which is still on Eddie’s knee. You slowly retreat, which makes Buck turn his attention to your face. You smile softly. He just looks out the window. The one where you’re an advanced paramedic, Buck and Eddie are firefighters, and you think you might be in love with both of them.

Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5

Chapter Summary: The tension between you and Buck brings you and Eddie closer.

Word Count: 3.3k Warnings: none

Things between you and Buck are… weird. Awkward. Uncomfortable. The last time you had a real conversation with him, it was a fight, but it ended with you saying how much you care about him. It’s left you feeling like there’s an open wound on your chest, one that exposes your heart. You feel vulnerable, and you hate it. Your hatred of the feeling triumphs over your desire to be around him, at least for now.

In a weird silver lining, your lack of time with Buck has created room for one of your other coworkers — Eddie. Talking to Eddie when Buck was around always felt strange, like there was something in the air that wasn’t supposed to be. Which is funny, because when it’s the two of them, they’re as thick as thieves. Something about you being in the mix feels like adding oil to water.

You like to think you’ve gotten to know Eddie relatively well in the last few weeks. So when he’s staring off into space while the rest of the team is eating breakfast, you don’t feel awkward asking what he’s thinking about.

“Nothing,” he says, turning his coffee mug absentmindedly. “Just… this new school with Christopher.”

“Don’t think it’s a good fit?” You ask.

“No, it’s perfect,” Eddie replies, turning his attention to you.

You smile softly. “Then what’s the problem?”

“They need to do a family interview.”

“Again, what’s the problem?” you chuckle. “I mean, aren’t the divorce and custody agreement papers enough?”

“They would be… if I had them.”

You frown. “What?”

Eddie sighs as he rubs his forehead. He leans closer so you’re the only one who can hear him. “We’re still married.”

Apparently, you don’t know a goddamn thing about Eddie.

“Oh,” is all you manage to get out.

Eddie chuckles briefly. “Yeah.”

“Wow. Just… from how you talk about her, you made it sound like things were… over over. Like, officially over.”

“ Shannon and I aren’t officially… anything these days.”

“You’re officially husband and wife.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, but he smiles as he does it. “Touché.”

“What’re you gonna do?” you ask softly after a moment.

He sets his elbows on his knees and clasps his hands together. “I don’t know.”

You just watch him and can’t shake the helplessness that washes over you. Eddie’s in a tough spot; no matter what you say, you can’t fix it. All you can do is be there.

“Tell me what I can do,” you say.

Eddie looks up at you with a lopsided grin. There aren’t many things you wouldn’t do to keep it on his face.

“I’ve been told I’m a lot of fun when I drink,” you continue. “Well, when I have three drinks I’m fun: that’s when I get dancy. After five drinks, I get sad. You can pick the number.”

Eddie laughs.

9-1-1 dispatch is down, making doing your job almost impossible. LA is a maze; without GPS navigation, you rely on your phone and eyes to do most of the work. It’s a miracle that dispatch existed before computers.

You’re in the passenger’s seat of the rig, and you tell Hen to make a right turn. When you pull up to what’s supposed to be the scene, though, there’s nothing.

“Dispatch, this is RA 118,” you say into the radio. “There’s nothing here.”

“No pregnant woman?” A dispatcher asks.

“There’s no building. It’s an empty lot.”

“Stand by, 118.”

You hang the radio with a huff.

“What’s going on with you?” Hen asks.

You frown and look over at her. “What?”

“You’ve been… off lately,” she explains. “Like, you’ve got this short fuse now.”

“Why shouldn’t I? We can’t even do our fucking jobs because some moron can’t fix a computer!”

Hen raises her eyebrows.

“Okay, point taken.”

“Buck says you two haven’t talked in a while.”

“Well, he’s a firefighter and I’m a paramedic. We can work the same shift and not see each other,” you shrug. “ I don’t know why he’s talking to you about it.”

“I’m not sure, but… it sounded like I’m not the only one worried about you.”

You play with your hands in your lap.

Hen sighs. “Look, I don’t know what happened between you two, but I hope it gets fixed, because you two are miserable without each other.”

“It’s not like that-”

Hen raises a hand to silence you. “I don’t know what you guys are… best friends, work spouses, or dating. Frankly, I don’t care. All I know is that, for better or for worse, you need each other. “

“118, you're gonna need to proceed to San Vicente, east of the Miracle Mile District,” dispatch crackles over the radio. “The nearest cross street is Sixth.”

You pick it up and push the button. “RA 118, copy that.”

“Where the hell have you guys been?”

When you finally arrive at the correct building, you’re faced with a pregnant woman lying on the lobby floor. A small crowd has formed around them, which you push your way through.

“We are fighting a system outage, sir,” Bobby explains, “we apologize for the delay.”

You crouch next to the patient on one side while Hen starts an IV on the other side.

“Hi,” you introduce yourself and don some gloves. “What’s your name?”

“Sonia. I’m 39 weeks pregnant, and 38 years old, which makes me a geriatric pregnancy,” she laughs a little. “God, I hate that word.”

“Word doesn’t matter: you still get a baby out of it,” you smile. “I’m gonna check how progressed you are, okay?”

She nods.

“10 centimeters, 100% effaced,” you observe. “You’re doing great, okay? On this next contraction, you’re gonna push, alright, Sonia?”

She doesn’t respond, so you look up.

Her expression changed. A moment ago, she was nervous but smiling. Now, her face is flattened, and she’s staring ahead at nothing.

“There's something wrong with the baby,” she says quietly.

Your body goes numb.

There are a few things you never want to hear a patient say, and ‘something is wrong’ might be at the top of the list. It’s called ‘impending doom’ — there’s no obvious threat, but it feels like something is about to go terribly wrong. You’ve seen patients die within minutes of saying something doesn’t feel right.

“Your baby is fine, Sonia,” you assure. “You'll-you'll be able to see for yourself in just a minute.”

“No! No, this was a mistake, all of it,” Sonia cries. “Roger was right to panic. Look, we can't do this. I can't... I can't do this. I shouldn't have this child.”

“Hey! Hey, Sonia, look at me,” you say, patting her knee to get her attention.

It takes her a moment, but her eyes eventually meet yours.

“All you have to do is push,” you tell her. “That’s it, okay? Just push.”

She still looks terrified, yet she nods.

On the next contraction, Sonia pushes. You coach her through the contractions, telling her when to push and when to rest. It only takes a few rounds until the baby is fully born.

“He’s here!” you exclaim as you wrap the baby in a towel.

There’s some happy laughter and a round of applause from the crowd as the baby cries.

“Beautiful boy, it’s time you meet your mom,” you say as you move to place the baby on Sonia’s chest.

She’s staring at the ceiling, her expression slack.

“I’ve got the baby,” Eddie interrupts, taking the baby from you so you can work.

“Sonia?” you say, rubbing your knuckles on her sternum. She winces, but barely.

“I can’t get a systolic above 70,” Hen says as she deflates the blood pressure cuff.

“She’s cyanotic,” you say, noting the blue tinge to her lips and fingernails. “She’s in shock.”

“Hemorrhagic?” Hen questions.

“She’s barely bleeding,” you shake your head.

You press your fingers to her neck. You don’t feel a pulse.

“Lost a pulse, starting compressions!” you shout.

Everything starts to move a hell of a lot quicker. Within seconds, the defibrillator is at your side, and as you compress Sonia’s chest, Hen is placing the pads. Eddie has a finger on her neck to ensure your compressions are effective.

When you get Sonia on the gurney, Eddie tags you out as the compressor to give you a break. Your entire body shakes with adrenaline, yet you help pack her into the rig and climb inside.

“She was fine,” Eddie mutters as he compresses. “Birth was going like clockwork, even for a geriatric pregnancy.”

“Sudden despair and fear and anxiety, rapid loss of BP, subsequent cardiovascular collapse…” you think aloud. It dawns on you. “Oh my god.”

“What?”

You’re reaching for your phone, dialing the phone number of the hospital you’re heading to. “It’s an Amniotic Fluid Embolism.”

Eddie looks over to you. His brow is damp with sweat. “She could be in DIC.”

“She needs Mass Transfusion Protocol,” you agree. You raise the phone to your ear. “LA general, this is RA 118 en route, I need to speak to your ER charge nurse.”

When you’re rolling through the ER doors, you’re kneeling over Sonia on the gurney as you do compressions. Doctors and nurses are shouting directions at each other, but all you focus on is your arms moving up and down.

You hop off so they can move her off of the gurney and onto the hospital bed. In the process, you notice that the defibrillator is showing Sonia’s in Ventricular Tachycardia — a shockable rhythm.

“V-Tach,” you say normally at first, then shout. “V-Tach! Everyone clear!”

The ER staff has no idea who you are, but when someone shouts those words, anyone with a medical background knows to listen. Everyone backs away with their hands raised. After hitting the ‘charge’ button, you do a quick survey to ensure no one is touching Sonia. Then, you hit the lightning bolt to deliver a shock.

Sonia’s body jerks at the electricity. The EKG tracing goes from tombstone shapes to a flatline. Then, there’s a beep and a QRS complex. Then another, and another.

“Got a pulse!” a random voice shouts.

You make your way out of the trauma bay and into the hallway, where Eddie’s waiting for you.

“That was… amazing,” Eddie says.

You stand next to him wordlessly. You nod but then let out a sob as you collapse against the wall.

Eddie helps lower you to the floor. He keeps a hand on your shoulder, squeezing tightly.

“God, this is embarrassing,” you remark between a few sobs.

“It isn’t,” Eddie immediately responds. “We’ve all been there.”

“It’s, uh, it’s how my mom died,” you say with a sad laugh. “They didn’t catch it in time. She bled to death internally. I just… I don’t know what I would’ve done if she didn’t pull through.”

“She did,” Eddie says, moving his hand from your shoulder to your knee. “She pulled through because of you.”

You nod again, wiping away some of your tears. “Thank you.”

Eddie nods in return. You notice that his gaze goes from your eyes to your lips and back up to your eyes.

It happens in the smallest of movements, but before you know it, your forehead is pressed against Eddie’s. You can feel his breath on your mouth. You quietly gasp at the sensation, and it makes him sigh.

You press your lips together. “You’re married.”

“She wants a divorce,” Eddie whispers.

You smile sadly. “You’re still married.”

Eddie sighs again, but this time, he moves away from you.

“I’m not saying it can never happen,” you say quietly. “All I’m saying is that I’m not that kind of girl. And you definitely aren’t that kind of guy.”

Eddie nods, his mouth shifting into a few different expressions.

You rise to your feet and offer Eddie a hand. “Let’s get back to work, Edmundo.”

Eddie laughs genuinely at the use of his full name. He takes your hand and uses it to help get himself up, but he continues holding it when he’s standing.

“Back to work,” he agrees and squeezes your hand before letting go.

You’re heading out a scene call, fire in progress with multiple victims suspected. You’re driving the rig while Eddie sets up the back. The 118 is the nearest firehouse, so your unit will be the first on the scene. It comes with a lot of responsibility, but you know you and Eddie are ready for it.

That is, until there’s a massive ‘BOOM’ from behind you.

You immediately pull over and look in your rearview. The engine following behind you is now on fire and lying on its side in the middle of the intersection. You can see a few firefighters lying on the pavement.

“Eddie, grab our bags!” you shout as you unclick your seatbelt.

You fly out of the rig and meet Eddie in the back. Instead of handing you your bag, he sets a hand on your shoulder and pushes you both to the side of the ambulance.

“What the hell?” You ask.

“There’s a bomber,” he says in a low tone.

“What?” you ask again, peering to the side of him.

Sure enough, there’s a kid — no older than twenty — with several pipe bombs strapped to his chest. He’s holding what appears to be the detonator in his hand. Someone is laying at his feet, his leg pinned under the passenger side of the engine.

Buck was sitting in the passenger’s seat.

You try rushing forward again, and Eddie grabs you by the waist this time.

“It’s Buck!” you scream as you struggle against him.

“I know,” Eddie says, his arms wrapped around you as he presses your back to his chest.

“We have to do something!” you cry, still thrashing against Eddie.

“We have to wait for the scene to clear,” Eddie explains. It’s more than a little annoying how calm he sounds. “If you go in now, both of you could die.”

“So what, we just let him die?” You ask, but you’ve stopped fighting.

Eddie doesn’t say anything, but his grip around you loosens. Eventually, you feel his arms drop back to his sides. That’s when you make a run for it.

You make it far enough to catch the bomber’s attention. You raise your hands in the air.

“I’m not who you want,” you explain, “I just want to help him. He has nothing to do with this. He has friends and family… he’s my family. Please, just let me help him.”

The bomber looks from you to Buck, then back at you. “He’s collateral damage.”

“Is that how you see yourself?” Bobby interrupts. He approaches with his hands raised.

The bomber’s attention shifts to Bobby, the person he’s been after this whole time. You use it as a window of opportunity to approach Buck slowly. When you finally reach him, you crouch down by his head.

“Hey, Pretty Boy,” you say softly. You set a hand on his head. “How’re you feeling?”

His left leg is the one that’s pinned, and he’s lying on his stomach. He tries to look up at you. “You shouldn’t be here. It’s not safe.”

“I could say the same thing to you,” you joke. You move your hand to his neck. “Are you in pain?”

“No, just kind of numb,” he says. “That’s not good, right?”

Your heart sinks. “You’re in shock: it’s normal.”

Bobby manages to distract the bomber long enough to subdue him. As the bomber gets rushed off, the rest of your team rushes in.

“Eddie, start two lines, wide open,” you instruct. “Hen, get him in the C-collar.”

You dig in the medi bag for a tourniquet. As you apply it, you try to drown out the sound of Buck crying out in pain.

“How are we doing?” Bobby asks as you stand.

“We’re out of time,” you mumble. “We need to get him out and to the nearest trauma center.”

Any extra body moves to the truck, waiting for the count to lift it. You place yourself in front of Buck, taking both of his hands.

“We’re gonna get you out,” you promise.

He nods slightly.

“Okay, my count,” you say as you move your hands to underneath his arms. “1… 2… 3!”

As everyone begins to push, you start pulling on Buck. He isn’t budging.

“It’s too heavy,” Bobby says.

“We got anything on the truck we can use for leverage?” Eddie suggests.

“No, we need more people,” Chim says, picking up his radio. “Dispatch, this is 118…”

There’s some clattering from across the way. Bystanders are pushing through the barricades to help. This time, you’re able to get him out.

You get him on the backboard, then onto the gurney. The whole time, you’re telling him that he did a good job and that he’ll be okay. As you’re running with him to the ambulance, he mumbles something. Once you’re settled into the rig, you ask him to repeat himself.

“You’re my family, too,” he mutters.

You wait in the waiting room the whole time Buck is in surgery. When he makes it out of recovery and to the ICU room, you don’t leave his side. You’re sure visiting hours are over, but you stay out of the nurse’s way. She doesn’t say anything; she just gives you a sympathetic look every once in a while.

You hear him stir a little bit. You look up from your phone to see Buck blinking awake.

“Welcome back,” you smile.

“You’re here,” he says, voice rough.

“Where else would I be?”

Buck looks around the room, slowly orienting himself. His eyes eventually land on his leg, which is in a cast and suspended in a sling. His eyes widen, and he lets out a few breaths as he tries to sit up.

“Okay, okay,” you set a hand on his shoulder, gently pushing him back. “It’s gonna be okay.”

“Is it?” Buck asks. “Did you talk to the doctor? Did he say anything about how the surgery went?”

“Just that you made it through,” you say softly. “And you're now the proud owner of one titanium rod and four beautifully cobalt-chromed screws.”

“Before they wheeled me in, he, uh… he said he didn't know how it was gonna go.”

You take his hand gently. “You’ll walk again, Buck.”

“Yeah, h-he said… he said he was pretty confident about that. He, uh, he just... he didn't know if I would ever… work again.”

You run a hand over your face. “Okay, I'm not gonna lie to you and tell you everything will work out how you want it to. But what I will say is that we should take this moment to be glad that you’re alive.”

“I’m really sorry about our fight,” Buck apologizes.

You laugh. “Buck, that is… so far from being important right now.”

“No, it isn’t,” he insists. “It wasn’t fair, how I reacted. I’m proud of you. I was just… scared.”

“Scared of what?”

“Losing you,” he admits quietly.

“Yeah, well, I was pretty scared of that today, so we’re definitely even,” you joke. Your smile softens and you squeeze his hand. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You move your hand to his forehead. You trail it down to his cheek, letting it rest for a moment. You turn your body to face him better. His eyes are closed, which you’re grateful for because if he were looking at you, you wouldn’t have the guts to do what you want to do.

You kiss him. It’s hesitant at first, and when he doesn’t react right away, you start to pull back. Before you can, Buck has his hand on the back of your neck, pulling you in closer. Your hand moves from his cheek down his neck and eventually rests on his chest. You only pull away when your lungs are burning from lack of air.

Buck traces his thumb over your lips. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

You blush, laugh, and bury your face in the crook of his neck.

[imagionationstation]

if youre still taking prompts, could i request 19 with 12!donnie and metalhead— i’ve been missing those two a bit haha

19 = ⚡️-> High voltage

“Hey bud.”

Metalhead chirps as Donnie pats his head, speaking through a yawn. “Yeah, I’m back up. Robot’s not gonna built itself.”

Metalhead trails him to his desk. Donnie picks up the sketchbook, carapace scratching the wood as he sits down beside it. The pen taps his cheek mindlessly. He leans the paper towards the watching companion, asking, “Look good?”

Metalhead raises a hand and touches the paper.

Donnie sighs, “Yeah, me neither.”

He taps the sketchbook against his forehead a few times before he stands. “Back to work.”

Metalhead is there when he stumbles, providing a head for him to catch his balance on. A soft chirp as he goes over to the generator on his desk, but Donnie only opens his toolbox. “Don’t worry about it. Just been a long night.”

He stops at his side to peek over the desk. Then he looks at Donnie. His creator nods drowsily, “Fine, long nights. Really, Metalhead, I’m perfectly capable of missing a few hours.”

When he reaches over, his hand bumps the toolbox and knocks it to the floor. He stares at it, shoulders slumped, as Metalhead begins picking up the tools. Metal hands offer the red container.

Donnie takes it. “Thanks. Gotta watch what I’m doing.”

He places it on his desk and pulls out a screwdriver. Metalhead watches him work for a while, catching every mistake and fumble, patient when his hands shake. His creator slams his fist on the desk and it knocks the pile of the books off the other side.

Metalhead sets a hand on his arm. He takes a deep breath, brushes at his eyes, and says, “I can do this.”

Metalhead takes his word for it and shifts his attention on the mess. He walks away as his creator pulls out a pair of pliers, examining the machine. He picks them up and turns, a danger symbol taking over his vision when Donnie moves to cut the active wire.

The hardcovers hit the floor, the pliers start to slice through, and then Metalhead is ramming his shoulder into Donnie’s plastron. His creator hits the ground, crying out in anger, and Metalhead’s hand closes around the grips, accidentally finishing the job.

The power surge hits his systems all at once. His screen goes wild, decorated in Human and Kraang, and then everything shuts down-

-to power back up a moment later in suboptimal condition.

His fuzzy vision slowly sorts itself out, fingers glitching when he tries to turn his head. His chirp crackles when he tries to speak, frantic screen failing to get a lock on his creator’s expression.

“I did it!” He gasps, shaky hands cupping his head. “Oh, buddy, you’re okay. I cannot believe I was so- but I can fix this. I can fix this.”

Metalhead’s voice box crackles. Donnie smiles, eyes covered by a sheen of liquid. “You scared me. How long did you know it was on?”

He tries to speak. His leg lifts in an awkward position.

Donnie wipes away the gloss and pulls out his tools. “Right. Right. Priorities. I’m sorry, bud. This was my bad. What was I thinking?”

He continues to ask rhetorical questions as he works. Metalhead answers once his voice box functions properly, helping to recode his processor. Once they’re finished with major repairs, he chirps a command and starts walking.

“Metalhead?” He hesitates. Metalhead does not stop. “Where are you…?”

He leaves the lab and goes into the bedroom. He waits in the dark until his creator creeps in, looking around blankly. “What’s in here?”

He points at the bed. His creator sighs. “Metalhead…”

He goes to pull back the covers. He looks at him expectantly.

After a long beat of consideration, Donnie comes over. He lays down reluctantly, eyes already half shut, and says, “I have too much to do.”

Metalhead tucks the blanket over his shoulders.

“I’m going to let them down.”

He pats his shell as he’d seen his brothers do.

“I can’t…” He trails off. Metalhead plants himself by the bed.

He remains there until the evening. Any creature that attempts to cross the threshold is reminded of the extensive weaponry that he bears. After all, Metalhead is made to help and protect.

And sometimes a creator needs protection from himself.

Thinking about Metalhead Rewired. Emotions all over the place. I didn’t know I needed this pain today. Thank you!!! 💜💛

[nami-moittli]

This counts as a “meme”, right?

[what-am-i-doing-in-this-fandom]

I was wondering, does Fiddleford still have a wife in your Halloween au? And if yes, does she know about him being a vampire?

I've been sitting on this ask for a bit, but I think I should finally answer.

In my AU, Fidds is actually pretty old-- not like ancient or anything, but surely a few centuries?

Anyway, so way back, when he was human, he did have a wife and a kid!! But when he got bit and became a vampire, he actually outlived them :(

He tries to think about them often, but it's definitely one of the things he chooses to erase when he creates the memory gun

[warpedpuppeteer]

Y'all ever cry when you think about how everyone in Eddie's life assumed he'll make a terrible parent without even offering him the help he needed to prove himself except for Buck?? He hears about Eddie's struggles with parenting and doesn't think 'you're a bad dad' he just thinks 'you need a bit of help' and then proceeds to make that happen for Eddie.

Calling Bobby to get permission to have Chris with them because Eddie doesn't get the time to, introducing Carla to go through the shitty red tapes he's been struggling to figure out, driving him to pick-up Chris after the earthquake, throwing a surprise Christmas party so that Eddie can be with Chris, and being the person Chris can turn to when he doesn't feel like talking to Eddie.

I don't think Buck realizes how much Eddie probably values all the things Buck has done for him to allow him to be the parent that he's always been capable of being. Buck downplays the things he does and probably thinks it's not much but for Eddie it's everything. It's everything Eddie didn't get from his partner or his parents. Buck just... does it for him, as easy as breathing.

This is why it was so, so easy for Eddie to choose Buck as the legal guardian for his Will but it was a shock for Buck. Buck doesn't know how integral he's been to Eddie being a good dad. For Eddie, it's easy because be knows Buck is already capable of stepping up. For Buck, it's surprising because doesn't think all the things he does matters.