kisses-for-you

[kisses-for-you]

comfort - g. logan

gar logan x gn!reader summary: after a near-death experience, you have a panic attack during which Gar comforts you. w/c: 1.1k

The mission had been brutal. You had nearly drowned — lungs burning, water filling your senses, the crushing pressure making it impossible to tell which way was up. In the moment, you had been convinced that was how you were going to die, even though you knew your boyfriend would never let that happen.

Gar hadn’t hesitated for even a second. When he saw you get pushed into that lake, he jumped in after you almost instantly. He found and swam up to the surface with you in his arms, his grip strong but gentle, as if he were terrified of hurting you yet desperate to keep you safe. You gasped for air the second you broke the surface, coughing up water as your body trembled from the cold. Gar held you close, his warmth seeping into your skin as he whispered reassurances, his voice laced with worry.

"It's okay, I've got you," he murmured, brushing wet strands of hair from your face. "You're safe now."

Even as he swam you back to shore, his arms never loosened their hold. When your feet finally touched solid ground, you collapsed against him, exhausted and shivering. He didn't let go. Instead, he wrapped you in his arms, rubbing circles into your back in a desperate attempt to warm you up.

"You scared me," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I thought I was going to lose you."

—

Even back at the Tower, where you were supposed to be safe, you couldn't escape it. The second the adrenaline wore off, everything hit you at once. The fear. The exhaustion. The suffocating feeling of being helpless. Your chest tightened. Your breath came in shallow gasps, too quick, too uneven. Your hands wouldn't stop shaking, your vision blurred at the edges, and no matter how hard you tried to ground yourself, you couldn’t.

Your mind was trapped underwater.

Gar noticed immediately. You didn’t even have to say anything. One second, he was talking to Rachel and the next, he was right in front of you, concern etched across his face.

"Y/N?" His voice was gentle but urgent, his hazel eyes scanning your expression. “What’s wrong?”

But you couldn’t answer. You could barely breathe. You hadn’t even really heard him — your mind was stuck in a completely different place.

Realization dawned on his features, and he moved without hesitation. He crouched in front of you, his hands carefully reaching for yours. "Hey, hey, I've got you," he murmured, taking your trembling hands in his own. His touch was warm, solid—something real to hold onto.

"You're okay," he continued, his voice soft and steady. "You're safe. You're here. Just focus on me, okay?"

But it wasn’t that easy. Your heart was racing, pounding against your ribs like it was trying to break free. You tried to speak, to tell him you couldn’t make it stop, but all that came out was a strangled gasp.

Gar's grip on your hands tightened, not painfully, just enough to anchor you. "Breathe with me," he said. "In for four, hold for four, out for four. Can you do that?"

You tried, but your breath stuttered halfway through, and a fresh wave of panic surged through you. Your whole body shook, your fingers tightening around his like a lifeline. You were almost surprised you didn’t break his fingers.

“It’s okay," he soothed. "Try again. Just listen to my voice."

His hands moved from yours to cup your face, his thumbs brushing over your cheekbones in slow, grounding strokes. “You're not alone, Y/N. I’m right here.”

But the fear wouldn’t let go. The memory of sinking, of choking, of your body going limp under the water — it was still there, gripping you tight. Why was your mind so stubborn?

Gar seemed to sense that words weren’t enough. So instead, he just pulled you forward, wrapping his arms around you and pressing your head against his chest. "Listen to my heartbeat," he whispered. "Just focus on that, okay? Not the past. Not the fear. Just this."

Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

His heartbeat was steady, rhythmic, something real in the storm of your thoughts. You squeezed your eyes shut, forcing yourself to focus on it.

Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

Slowly, so slowly, it worked. Your breathing evened out, the shaking in your hands lessened, and the weight on your chest began to lift. You could finally think, breathe, and relax — or at least somewhat relax.

Gar kept holding you, his fingers stroking your back, murmuring quiet reassurances. "You're doing so good," he whispered. "Just keep breathing."

Minutes passed. Maybe more. Time felt strange, stretched thin. But eventually, the panic attack ebbed, leaving you feeling drained. Gar pulled back slightly, just enough to see your face. His eyes were soft, filled with nothing but concern and care. “You okay?”

You nodded, though you still felt unsteady, kind of like you’d run a marathon and hadn’t quite caught your breath. But at least you had made it.

Without a word, Gar slipped off his hoodie. Before you could protest, he was pulling it over your head, helping you push your arms through the sleeves. The fabric was oversized on you, the sleeves swallowing your hands. It was warm and smelled like him. Like pine, his cologne, and something else that was undeniably Gar.

"There," he said, adjusting the hoodie so it fit more comfortably. "Better?"

You nodded again, wrapping your arms around yourself, and sinking into the warmth. The hoodie wasn’t just warm, it was safe.

Gar smiled, brushing a few still-damp strands of hair from your face. "Next time, let’s not make near-drowning part of the mission plan, yeah?" His voice was lighthearted, and teasing, but you could still see the worry lingering in his eyes.

Despite the exhaustion pressing down on you, you let out a small, tired laugh. "I’ll try."

His grin widened. "Good. ‘Cause I’d rather not have to wrestle a lake to get you back."

You shook your head, but before you could say anything, he pulled you back into his arms, his embrace firm and protective. He pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, lingering there for a moment. "You seriously scared me, you know that?" he admitted quietly again. "I don't ever want to lose you."

You swallowed past the lump in your throat and curled further into him. "You won’t."

Gar tightened his arms around you, resting his chin on your head. "Promise?"

You nodded. "Promise."

And with that, he just held you, safe and warm in the quiet of the room.

DC masterlist

[kisses-for-you]

bullet - d. grayson

dick grayson x fem!reader

summary: during a mission, you get injured but hide it from Dick until he finds out because you've passed out.

w/c: 2.8k

The van sped down the road, streetlights flashing in and out of view through the rain-streaked windshield. Dick was driving, you in the passenger seat next to him, Rachel wedged between Gar and Kory in the back. Your eyes drifted between the road and Dick, his jaw clenched in concentration as his hands gripped the wheel, his knuckles practically turning white. No one spoke. The mood in the van was tense – another mission, another fight. You didn’t dare speak up.

You had finally gotten a lead on Deathstroke’s location and you were determined to get to him before he got to you. You wouldn’t let him win this time. Last time, you, Dick, and Kory had barely gotten away. Deathstroke had quickly overpowered you all; with his skills, his powers, and his weapons, he was just too strong.

BANG!

Out of nowhere, the sound of a deafening gunshot echoes down the nearly empty street. Sparks erupt from the hood of the car, causing Dick to swear under his breath. “Everyone down!” Dick barked, to which everyone of course listened. The van lurched forward, however, it wasn’t long before the van seized all movement — stopping in the middle of the road. You all knew who it was. Deathstroke. It seemed like he knew you guys were coming and decided to just meet you halfway.

Kory opened the van’s door, and stepped out, her hands glowing with power. There he stood, Deathstroke, perched on the hood of a wrecked sedan up ahead, his rifle trained on the van. The second Kory stepped out, he fired again. She barely dodged, rolling behind cover as the asphalt sparked where she’d just been standing.

Dick glanced over at you, then back at Gar and Rach, “We have to move!” Dick shouted, voice filled with urgency.

The gunfire died down, and you all pushed the doors open. Gar and Rach sprinted out, using the van as cover. As you were about to follow suit, Dick grabbed your hand, making you turn around to look at him. You locked eyes, instantly recognising the look of worry his gaze held. It was a look you’d seen many times before on these kinds of missions. “Stay close to me,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. You nodded, responding “Yes, sir,” as a joke.

The corners of his mouth quirked up in a small smile before his face hardened and he left the van, you following close behind, grabbing your weapon. It was a sleek bow with arrows made of refracted light (the light would disperse and reform in your hand after hitting a target).

Yet, the second you left the van, pain tore through your side. You let out a small gasp at the sudden sensation but luckily, no one had heard you and for that, you were glad. You didn’t need them worrying about you at that moment. Glancing down, you noticed the blood starting to stain your clothes — ‘fuck’ you thought. The bastard must’ve shot you. But you chose to ignore it for the moment, the adrenaline already numbing some of the pain. You couldn’t let this slow you down.

Dick was already closing in on Deathstroke and Kory hurled a blast towards him, forcing Deathstroke to leap back. He was fast, unnaturally so, but not fast enough to dodge Kory’s attack. Deathstroke fired a grappling hook, and in an instant, he was yanking himself up to a nearby rooftop, his escape swift. Where had he even gotten a grappling hook from? You were sure that guns and blades were more his thing.

“No way he’s getting away,” you muttered to yourself, ignoring the growing pain in your side. You could barely hear your own voice over the pounding in your chest, your heart struggling to pump blood as more and more of the sticky red liquid was leaving your body through your wound.

Dick was already scaling the fire escape, making sure he wouldn’t let Deathstroke get away this time. But as he’s climbing the stairs, he turns back to you, noticing the way you faltered behind him. He shoots you a look of concern and slight confusion, as if to ask if you were fine. You just gave him a small “I’m okay,” before catching up with him, ignoring the way every muscle in your body basically screamed for you to stop. You gritted your teeth and pushed forward, determined to keep up, to be by your boyfriend’s side. Every instinct told you to push harder, to not let Deathstroke win again.

You’d fought beside Dick countless times, but tonight, something felt different. Maybe it was the way his back was a little straighter, his movements a little sharper, as if he was aware of your every breath. His face held a look of scepticism — he didn’t believe you but there wasn’t really any time for arguing right now.

Dick reached the top of the fire escape in seconds, pausing to look back down at you. His eyes locked onto yours, a flash of something passing between you before he turned his attention back to Deathstroke. You made it to the top only mere seconds after Dick, now stood side by side with him.

Deathstroke stood at the far end of the rooftop, his stance relaxed despite the fact that he was outnumbered. He held his sword loosely at his side now. “You’re persistent, I’ll give you that,” he mused, voice distorted by the modulator in his helmet. “But you should’ve learned by now, Grayson. You don’t win against me.”

Dick didn’t answer, just adjusted his stance slightly, his escrima sticks slipping into his hands with practised ease. You drew an arrow, the energy vibrating slightly in your grip. The pain in your side was intensifying, but you pushed it down, keeping your breathing even. You weren’t about to let this bastard see any sort of weakness you had.

Deathstroke took a step forward. “And you,” he tilted his head toward you, as if he could sense the injury you were desperately trying to hide. “You don’t look so good.”

Those words basically confirmed Dick’s worries. You weren’t okay, and even Deathstroke had realised. Dick looked over at you next to him and shifted closer to you out of pure instinct — he wasn’t going to let Deathstroke harm you and you knew it. He’d protect you until his last breath.

“You’re stalling,” Dick said, voice tight.

Deathstroke chuckled. “Maybe. Or maybe I just like watching you all struggle.”

And with that, he lunged towards you, his sword clashing with Dick’s escrima sticks in a shower of sparks. You forced your body forward, drawing an arrow despite the way your vision swam at the edges. You fired. The arrow sliced through the air, light bending as it honed in on its target. But Deathstroke was already shifting, dodging at the last second. The arrow grazed his shoulder, leaving a searing scorch mark on his armour. You could feel the warmth of your blood spreading in a stain across your clothes but you paid no attention to it.

Suddenly, Deathstroke pulled out a device and as you looked closer, you realised it was actually a grenade. However, Dick still hadn’t noticed because he was too busy engaged in battle with him and you had to alert him.

You shouted out, “Dick, watch out! He’s got a grenade!”

But as soon as you warned him, Deathstroke pulled the pin and threw the grenade in your direction. In an instant, Dick pulls you away from the grenade and to the ground, shielding you from the explosion with his body on top of yours.

Dick looked back but Deathstroke was nowhere to be seen. He sighed and his brown eyes locked with yours, concern evident on his face. “Are you okay?” he asked, grabbing your hand and pulling you to your feet.

You swayed a little as you stood, the blood loss finally catching up to you. You began to respond, “Yea-” but before you could continue, a wave of exhaustion washed over you, causing you to pass out. Your knees buckled underneath you and gave out but before you could fall, Dick caught you, his arms instantly wrapped around your waist to hold you securely. He gently lowered you to the ground, putting your head on his lap. “Baby?” he called out, gently shaking your shoulder in an effort to wake you up. “Y/N?” he called out again, shaking you more firmly this time. But still, no response. That’s when he noticed it — the wound in your side. It had been hard to see before as it was dark and rainy but now that he’d finally noticed it, he cursed at himself for not noticing sooner, and at you for hiding this from him.

Dick’s breath hitched as he pressed his hand against your wound, his fingers quickly growing wet with your blood. “Shit,” he muttered under his breath, his pulse hammering in his ears. You were losing way too much blood, way too quickly.

Dick’s hands trembled as he pressed harder against your wound, trying to slow the bleeding. “Come on, stay with me,” he muttered under his breath, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. The rest of the team was already rushing up the fire escape, their footsteps echoing against the metal.

“Dick? What happened?” Kory was the first to reach him, her eyes widening as she took in the sight of you unconscious in his lap.

“She’s hurt – bad,” Dick said through clenched teeth, his voice tight with worry. He glanced down at your face, the rain making your skin feel even colder beneath his fingertips. His jaw clenched. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He was supposed to protect you.

Gar dropped to his knees beside him, his hazel eyes full of fear. “We need to get her out of here,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. You were like an older sister to him and it hurt him to see you like this.

Rachel was already at your side, her hands hovering hesitantly over your wound. “I can help,” she whispered. Her powers might’ve still been unpredictable, but she couldn’t just stand by and do nothing. She closed her eyes, her dark energy slowly creeping toward you, surrounding your wound with an eerie glow.

Dick barely registered Kory and Gar keeping watch for Deathstroke; his entire world had shrunk down to you, barely breathing in his arms. He gently brushed a strand of wet hair away from your face, his own expression torn between guilt and fear. “Just hold on, okay? You’re gonna be fine,” he whispered, his voice almost breaking. He knew you probably couldn’t hear him in your state but he so badly wished you could.

Your body shuddered slightly at Rachel’s healing attempts, a faint groan escaping your lips. Dick’s breath hitched. “That’s it. Stay with me,” he urged, his grip tightening on your hand.

Rachel’s energy flickered as she gritted her teeth, struggling to mend the wound fully. “It’s… it’s too deep. I can slow the bleeding, but we need to get her actual help,” she admitted, sweat beading on her forehead from the effort.

Dick didn’t hesitate. “We’re getting her back to the Tower. Now.”

Without another word, he scooped you up into his arms, his grip firm but careful. His mind was racing. Deathstroke had won this round but that didn’t matter. Right now, all that mattered was getting you back in one piece.

As the team hurried back toward the van, which Kory had somehow managed to mend, Dick held you closer, his heart hammering against his ribs. “You’re gonna be okay,” he murmured again, almost like a promise. “I’ve got you.”

The drive back to Titans Tower was a blur of flashing streetlights and the distant hum of sirens. Dick sat in the back with you, his arms wrapped securely around your unconscious

form. The others sat tensely, throwing worried glances your way, but Dick barely noticed. His entire focus was on you, on the shallow rise and fall of your chest, the way your skin felt ice-cold against his own.

“Faster,” he urged Kory, who was driving. His voice was strained, barely controlled.

Kory didn’t argue, pressing harder on the gas.

Rachel sat beside him, her hands still glowing faintly as she did her best to keep your wound from worsening. “I don’t know if I can do more until we get back,” she admitted, her voice small.

“You’ve done enough, Rach,” Gar reassured her. “We’re almost there.”

Dick barely heard them. He leaned down, his forehead nearly brushing yours. “Just hold on, okay? We’re almost home,” he murmured, as if saying it enough times would make it true.

By the time they reached the Tower, Gar had the door open before the van even fully stopped. Dick didn’t hesitate, lifting you into his arms and sprinting inside to the elevator.

As soon as you were there, “Get the med kit,” he barked, his usual calm completely gone.

Rachel and Kory ran ahead to prepare the medical bay while Dick carried you inside, his grip tightening as he felt just how limp you were against him. The second he laid you down on the examination table, he was already working to stop the bleeding. His hands were stained red, and it made him feel sick. He was used to blood but this was different. It was your blood.

“Come on, baby. Don’t do this to me,” he muttered under his breath.

Kory returned with the supplies, and Rachel immediately moved to help. Dick forced himself to stay steady as he worked, pressing gauze against your wound, helping Kory clean it, listening as Rachel directed them on what she could and couldn’t heal.

“She’s lost too much blood,” Rachel said after what felt like an eternity. “But she’s stable for now.”

Dick let out a slow breath, but the relief was short-lived. You were stable, but barely. Now, all he could do was wait.

Hours passed. The others had long since drifted in and out, checking in but giving Dick space. He hadn’t moved from your side. His hands were still covered in dried blood, but he didn’t care. His fingers curled around yours, his thumb brushing lightly over your knuckles.

“You scared the hell out of me, you know that?” he murmured, his voice hoarse.

The room was quiet except for the steady beeping of the heart monitor. Dick swallowed hard, his free hand running through his messy hair. “You should’ve told me you were hurt,” he said, his voice dropping lower. “I would’ve- dammit, I don’t know. I would’ve done something.” He sighed, leaning forward so his elbows rested on the edge of the bed. His forehead nearly touched your hand. “I should’ve seen it sooner. I should’ve protected you.”

Silence.

Then, a small, barely audible groan.

Dick’s head snapped up just as your fingers twitched in his. His heart nearly stopped. “Y/N?” he whispered, his grip tightening slightly. Your eyelids fluttered, and after a few seconds, you finally opened your eyes. They were hazy, and unfocused, but they were on him. A weak smile tugged at your lips. “Hey, Boy Wonder,” you rasped, your voice hoarse from exhaustion.

A breathless laugh escaped him, more out of sheer relief than anything else. “Hey,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.

You blinked slowly, taking in his exhausted face. “You look like crap.”

Dick let out another soft laugh, shaking his head. “And you’re one to talk?” He squeezed your hand gently, his thumb brushing against your palm. “You scared the shit out of me.” Your smile faded slightly, and you squeezed his hand back, weak, but reassuring. “I’m okay,” you whispered.

Dick exhaled like he’d been holding his breath for hours. “Yeah. Yeah, you are.” He glanced over at the machines monitoring you before looking back into your eyes. “But you’re not allowed to do that again. Ever.”

You chuckled softly, but it turned into a wince. Dick was immediately alert, his hands moving to support you. “Hey, easy,” he soothed.

You looked up at him, eyes laced with exhaustion but filled with warmth. “You stayed.”

Dick’s expression softened. He reached up, brushing a damp strand of hair from your forehead. “Of course I did.” His voice was quiet but firm. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

You squeezed his hand again, your grip a little stronger this time. “Guess I’ll have to keep scaring you just to get you to admit how much you care,” you teased weakly.

Dick shook his head with a small smirk. “You don’t have to get shot to get me to admit that, idiot.” He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “You mean everything to me.”

Your eyes fluttered shut again, this time out of comfort rather than unconsciousness. Dick stayed right where he was, his hand never letting go of yours. For the first time since the mission started, he allowed himself to breathe. And he wasn’t letting you out of his sight ever again.

DC masterlist

[kisses-for-you]

need them both ngl

[kisses-for-you]

tumblr needs to make searching better & have more filters. because im so tired of looking up xreader (or any other type of fanfiction) & seeing the same top 100 posts. because i have read them, multiple times. there just needs to be a better way to filter through posts instead of endlessly scrolling trying to find a fic that i havent read before

just very unmotivating to even use the app at this point because im so tired of scrolling like a maniac & it sucks for other creators whos work is lost under all of these damn posts. & for a couple of fandoms, the top posts have been the same for like 2 years😭

i would use the latest filter, but with an inactive fandom, it can be pointless.

also, why we are already on the subject of suggesting things to make tumblr a better app. itd be awesome if we had folders so we can organize our liked posts

(if you agree please like &/or reblog so tumblr can see this & make a change)

@staff @support @engineering @changes

ive seen on the changes blog that the search feature is coming, but still would like to organize liked posts

[kisses-for-you]

close - h. potter

harry potter x fem!reader

summary: a walk through the school ends with a night in the hospital wing.

w/c: 1.4k

The Gryffindor common room was a warm refuge from the cold November winds. The fire crackled softly as students murmured and laughed around you. Harry was sitting on a chair, fidgeting with the edge of the book he held in his hand. He wasn't even pretending to read the book anymore: his emerald eyes kept flickering to you.

You were sat cross-legged on the floor with your Defense Against the Dark Arts essay, quill scratching against parchment as you murmured spells under your breath. Harry smiled fondly, but something in his demeanor betrayed a tension he couldn't quite shake off.

"Darling," he said suddenly, breaking the silence between you two.

"Hm?" you hummed, not looking up.

"Let's go for a walk."

You sighed, finally setting your quill down and turning to him. "Harry, this essay is due tomorrow. And no offense, but I really don't have the time for whatever plan you're thinking off right now."

He smirked faintly but didn't budge. "You've been staring at that parchment for two hours. Come on, just a quick walk. I need some air."

The softness in his tone made you pause. You studied him for a moment - the way his jaw was clenched, the way his fingers tapped nervously on the armrest. You could tell something was bothering him.

"Alright," you said finally, closing your book and stretching. "But if Filch catches us, I promise I'm blaming you."

"Deal," he said with a lopsided grin, already reaching for your hand to tug you up and off the floor.

The corridors were eerily quiet, lit only by slivers of moonlight and the occasional flicker of a torch. You walked side by side, Harry's hand brushing yours every so often. He seemed deep in thought, his brow furrowed, his gaze distant.

"What's on your mind?" you asked softly, glancing at him.

He hesitated, running a hand through his perpetually messy hair. "Just... everything. Voldemort, the prophecy, the war." He exhaled sharply. "I don't know how to turn it off sometimes."

You stopped walking and turned to face him, placing a hand on his arm. "Love, you do know that you don't always have to deal with all of this alone, right? You have a bad habit of doing that."

"I know," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "That's why I needed this. Just you and me for a little while - no war, no prophecies, just us."

Your heart ached at the vulnerability in his words. You squeezed his arm, offering him a small, reassuring smile. "Then let's make the most of it."

Before Harry could respond, a low, guttural growl echoed from the shadows. You froze, your hand instinctively tightening around Harry's arm.

"Stay behind me," Harry said immediately, pulling out his wand and stepping in front of you.

The growl grew louder, reverberating off the stone walls. Then, from the darkness, a creature lunged forward; its scales glistened in the moonlight, and its eyes locked onto you with a predatory glare.

"What in Merlin's name is that?" you whispered, your heart pounding in your chest.

"A Kappa," Harry muttered, his grip on his wand tightening. Then, his brows furrowed. "But they're usually not found in these areas. And they're definitely not supposed to leave the water."

The creature let out a deafening roar and charged.

"Stupefy!" Harry shouted, the spell striking the beast square in the chest. It staggered but didn't stop, and it lunged toward you.

"Impedimenta!" you cried, your wand trembling in your hand. The spell slowed the creature, but only for a moment. It snarled, shaking off the magic like it was nothing, before swiping at you with its claws. The force of the blow sent you crashing into the wall. Pain exploded in your arm as your wand clattered to the ground, out of reach.

"Y/N!" Harry's voice was frantic, his face pale as he turned his wand on the creature again. "Expulso!" The spell hit its mark, sending the Kappa skidding backward with a howl of rage. It shook its head, then disappeared into the shadows as quickly as it had appeared.

Harry was at your side in an instant, dropping to his knees. "Darling, look at me," he said, his voice trembling as he cupped your face with one hand, the other already reaching for your injured arm.

"I'm fine," you mumbled, though your voice was shaky.

"You're not fine!" he snapped, his eyes blazing with a mix of anger and fear. "Why didn't you run when I told you to?"

"I wasn't going to leave you alone with that thing!" you shot back, wincing as he carefully peeled back the torn sleeve of your robe.

Blood soaked the fabric, and a jagged wound stretched across your forearm. Harry's jaw tightened, and his hands shook as he pressed his handkerchief against the cut to stem the bleeding.

"This is why I told you to stay behind me," he said, his voice cracking. "I can't- I can't lose you, Y/N."

His words took the breath out of your lungs. You reached up with your uninjured hand, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. "Harry, I'm not going anywhere. It's just a scratch."

"You could've been killed!" he burst out, his voice rising before he forced himself to take a deep breath. "You could've-" He stopped himself, closing his eyes tightly for a moment before looking at you again. "Let's get you to Madam Pomfrey."

He helped you to your feet, his arm securely around your waist as he guided you through the castle. His usual confidence was replaced with a quiet desperation, his eyes darting around as if expecting another attack.

"Love," you said softly, "this wasn't your fault."

He didn't respond, his lips pressed into a thin line as he focused on getting you to safety.

When you reached the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey immediately ushered you onto a bed, her sharp eyes narrowing as she took in your injuries. "Honestly, the two of you are worse than Fred and George," she muttered, fetching bandages and a potion.

Harry stood by your bedside, his fists clenched at his sides as he watched Madam Pomfrey clean and dress your wound. "Will she be okay?" he asked, his voice strained.

"She'll be fine," Madam Pomfrey said briskly. "A few days' rest, and she'll be good as new."

But Harry didn't look relieved. As soon as Madam Pomfrey left to fetch more supplies, he sank into the chair beside your bed, his head in his hands.

"Harry," you said gently, reaching for his hand.

He looked up at you, his eyes filled with guilt. "This is my fault. I should've protected you better."

"You did protect me," you said firmly, lacing your fingers with his. "You fought off that creature and got me here. Harry, you can't control everything. All you can do is your best, and that's exactly what you did tonight."

He shook his head, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. "I just- I can't lose you, Y/N. You mean too much to me."

Tears pricked your eyes at the raw emotion in his voice. "And you mean everything to me. But Harry, you have to stop blaming yourself for things you can't control."

He was silent for a long moment, then finally nodded, though the guilt in his eyes didn't fully disappear. "I'm staying here tonight," he said suddenly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"Harry, Madam Pomfrey will-"

"I don't care," he interrupted. "I'm not leaving you alone."

You smiled faintly, squeezing his hand. "Alright. But you're going to let me help next time. No more of this 'stay behind me' nonsense."

He managed a small smile in return, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. "Deal. As long as you promise to run if it gets bad."

"Not a chance," you teased, though your voice was soft.

Harry shook his head, a faint chuckle escaping him as he settled into the chair. "You're impossible."

"And you love it," you whispered, the corners of your mouth lifting.

"I do," he admitted, his gaze soft as he looked at you. "More than anything."

As the night wore on, Harry stayed true to his word and he settled in bed next to you; considering the beds were made to only hold a person at a time, you were extremely close. But, you weren't complaining - the close proximity proved to be a good source of warmth and comfort.

H.P masterlist

[kisses-for-you]

explosion - f. weasley

fred weasley x fem!reader

summary: during the battle of hogwarts, you get injured and fred rushes to help. w/c: 1.8k

The battle raged like a storm around you, shaking the ancient stones of the castle to their core. Spells streaked through the air in every color imaginable, illuminating the darkened halls as you, Fred, George, and Percy fought side by side to hold one of the castle's passageways.

Fred stood close to you, his fiery hair glinting in the flickering light of the spells which were whizzing through the air in every direction. He was sweating and breathing hard, but his bravery hadn't faltered.

"Fancy a bit of adventure, love?" he teased, sending a Death Eater crashing into the far wall with a well-placed spell.

"Adventure? More like absolute chaos," you retorted, firing another spell that shattered a chunk of the ceiling, blocking another Death Eater's path. "You Weasleys have the strangest idea of a good time!"

"That's why you love me," Fred shot back, deflecting a Killing Curse with a quick shield charm.

Before you could reply, George chimed in. "Oi, save the flirting for later! Some of us are trying to survive over here!"

Percy, ever the voice of reason - or annoyance, depending on the moment - scowled as he launched another Expelliarmus. "Focus, all of you! We need to hold this position at all costs!"

The Death Eaters were relentless, forcing you all to retreat step by step. But you held your ground, firing spell after spell alongside the brothers. It felt like you were making progress - until the explosion.

The blast came out of nowhere, deafening and blinding. One moment you were standing shoulder to shoulder with Fred; the next, you were hurled backward by the force of the explosion. You hit the ground hard and the world went dark for a moment.

"Y/N!" Fred's voice pierced the haze, raw and panicked. He stumbled through the rubble, the light from his wand flickering wildly as he searched for you.

His heart stopped when he found you crumpled on the floor, your body motionless. Blood stained the front of your robes, and your wand lay just out of reach. For a moment, the chaos around him ceased to exist.

"Y/N!" he dropped to his knees beside you, shaking your shoulder gently. "No. No, no, no." His hands hovered over you, too afraid to touch you in case you were truly gone.

Tears blurred his vision as he cupped your face in his trembling hands. "Come on, love. Don't do this to me. Please, wake up." His voice cracked, and a sob tore from his throat.

George's voice called out from somewhere behind him. "Fred! What are you-" He froze when he saw you. "Bloody hell. Is she..?"

"She's not!" Fred barked, his voice filled with equal parts fury and despair. "She's not." He pressed his forehead to yours, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "You're stronger than this. You don't get to leave me. You hear me?"

Just as Fred was about to lose all hope, you stirred. When you came to, your ears were ringing, and dust filled the air. Your vision spun as the taste of copper filled your mouth. A weak groan escaped your lips, and your eyes fluttered open. "Fred...?" Your voice was barely audible, but it was enough.

Fred let out a choked laugh, tears streaming down his face as he cradled you close, careful of the wound that appeared to be on your side. "You're alive. Merlin, you're alive." He pressed a desperate kiss to your forehead, his hands moving to check your wound.

"Don't... cry," you whispered, managing a faint smile despite the pain.

"Too late for that, love," Fred replied, his voice still shaking. "I thought I'd lost you. You scared me half to death, you know that?"

You were about to respond but another volley of spells exploded nearby, forcing Fred to shield your body with his own. "George! Percy!" he yelled over his shoulder. "I need cover!"

George was already there but Percy wasn't so he fought his way toward you, spells flying in all directions. George crouched beside Fred, his expression grim as he took in your condition.

"We need to get her out of here," George said firmly. "She's losing too much blood."

"I know that!" Fred snapped, his voice raw. "But if we leave this passageway undefended-"

"We'll handle it," Percy interrupted, his tone unusually gentle. "Fred, get her to safety. That's an order."

Fred hesitated for a fraction of a second before nodding. He slipped an arm under your shoulders and another under your knees, lifting you as if you weighed nothing.

"You're not leaving me, are you?" you murmured, clinging weakly to his shirt.

"Never," he said fiercely.

As Fred carried you through the crumbling halls, his anger simmered just beneath the surface. Every injured student or fallen friend he passed seemed to deepen the fire in his eyes.

"You're going to be okay," he muttered, more to himself than to you. "You're going to be fine. I'm not letting them take you from me."

When you reached the Great Hall, now transformed into a makeshift hospital, Madam Pomfrey rushed to meet you. Fred laid you gently on one of the hastily arranged cots as Madam Pomfrey immediately began assessing your injuries. Her expression was grave but determined.

"Severe blood loss and internal injuries," she muttered, her wand glowing as she waved it over your body. "Mr. Weasley, please, step back. I need space to work."

Fred hovered nearby, his fists clenched and jaw tight. "She's going to be alright, isn't she?" His voice cracked despite his attempt to sound strong.

Madam Pomfrey didn't look up, her focus solely on you. "I'll do everything I can. Now let me concentrate."

Fred turned away, pacing like a caged lion. George caught up moments later, blood smeared on his cheek and a cut above his eyebrow.

"How is she?" George asked quietly, placing a hand on Fred's shoulder.

Fred didn't answer immediately, his gaze fixed on you. "She has to make it," he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. "I can't lose her, George. Not her."

George squeezed his shoulder. "She's a fighter. She'll pull through. You've just got to keep believing in her."

Fred paced the Great Hall as the sounds of the battle outside seeped through the walls - distant explosions, cries, and the eerie silence that followed each fallen fighter. He couldn't focus on anything but you.

Madam Pomfrey worked tirelessly, and George stayed by Fred's side, watching his brother struggle to keep his emotions in check. "You need to stay strong," George said, his voice firm but kind. "For her. She's going to need you when she wakes up."

Fred stopped pacing, turning to his twin. "She took the hit meant for me, George." His voice broke. "I should be the one lying there. Not her."

"Don't do this to yourself," George said sharply. "She'd throttle you for even thinking that. And you know it."

Fred was about to respond when your faint voice cut through the air. "Fred...?"

He froze. Then he was by your side in an instant, dropping to his knees next to you. Your eyes fluttered open, glassy with pain but alive. Relief washed over him, so intense it left him momentarily speechless.

"Don't look so grim," you rasped, managing a faint smile. "You look awful."

Fred laughed, though it sounded more like a sob. He brushed a hand through your hair, careful not to touch the blood-stained bandages. "You scared the life out of me, love. Don't ever do that again."

"Not exactly my choice," you murmured, grimacing as you shifted slightly. "What's the situation? The passageway?"

"Forget the passageway," Fred said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. "You're what matters right now. Percy is holding it down."

"You left him?" you whispered, your brow furrowing. "Fred, you can't-"

"I can, and I did," Fred interrupted, gripping your hand tightly. "He ordered me to get you to safety. And I'd make the same choice a thousand times over."

You squeezed Fred's hand weakly, your fingers barely wrapping around his. "Stubborn as ever," you murmured, your voice laced with pain but also a faint teasing tone. "Guess that's why I love you."

Fred's face softened, his usual mischievous grin flickering to life despite the situation. "Good thing, too, because you're stuck with me."

George, standing nearby, crossed his arms and smirked. "Oh, don't worry, Y/N. He's been planning a whole dramatic scene for when you woke up. You know how he is - loves a good audience."

Fred shot George a glare, though it lacked any real venom. "Not the time, George."

Madam Pomfrey, who had been working with relentless focus, finally stepped back, wiping her hands on her robes. "She'll live," she said briskly. "But she'll need rest. No running about casting spells for a while, understood?"

Fred exhaled a breath he didn't realise he was holding. "Thank you," he said, his voice thick with emotion.

Madam Pomfrey raised an eyebrow at him. "Thank me by keeping her still. And don't let her charm her way out of recovery. I know how she is." She glanced at you knowingly before bustling off to tend to the next patient.

Fred turned back to you, his hand still clutching yours. "Hear that, love? You're under strict orders to lie still and let me take care of you for once."

You gave him a weak smile, your eyelids drooping. "Just for a bit. Then back to saving more lives."

Fred leaned closer, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "You've already saved mine," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

George cleared his throat, trying to lighten the mood. "Alright, lovebirds, don't go getting all sappy. There's still a war on, in case you've forgotten."

Fred shot him a tired but grateful look. "Go on, then. I'll catch up once she's settled."

"Don't take too long," George said, his tone unusually serious. "We need every wand out there."

As George disappeared back into the fray, Fred sat beside you, his fingers brushing over yours in a soothing rhythm. "You're my priority now," he said firmly. "They'll manage out there. But I'm not leaving your side until you're safe."

"Fred," you whispered, your voice stronger now, though still strained. "I'll be okay. You need to fight. The castle needs you. They need you."

Fred shook his head, his expression unyielding. "They'll have to manage without me for a while. Because I'm not taking my eyes off you until I know you're out of danger."

"Alright," you murmured, your fingers curling around his. "But promise me... you'll stay safe, too."

Fred leaned closer, his forehead resting against yours. "I promise. Now get some rest, love. We'll get through this. Together."

H.P. masterlist

[kisses-for-you]

★ H.P. masterlist ★

⋆˖⁺‧₊ ₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊ ₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊ ₊‧⁺˖⋆

requests are open so feel free to send one!! :)

fred weasley

-> explosion

george weasley

-> jealous

harry potter

-> close

ron weasley

->

cedric diggory

->

oliver wood

->

sirius black

->

remus lupin

->

[kisses-for-you]

jealous - g. weasley

george weasley x fem!reader

summary: when george sees you together with cedric, he quickly starts to feel jealous. w/c: 1.8k

The library was fairly quiet, which was nothing out of the ordinary. You always loved the library for this reason; it was a great place to just sit down and focus. You were sat across from Cedric, looking at the Charms textbook in front of the two of you. Nonverbal spells were something you had recently been introduced to as sixth year students and they certainly were not easy. However, Cedric had been a surprisingly good partner - calm, patient, and able to lighten the mood when you needed it.

"Okay, try this one," he said, his voice light as he leaned forward, pointing at a spell in the textbook. His eyes sparked with amusement and you could tell he was trying to hide a smile.

With a sharp breath, you thought of a spell in your mind, your wand flicking in the air, but yet, nothing happened. A frustrated sigh escaped you, and Cedric let out a laugh that filled the silence of the library.

"Honestly, I think it works better when you don't try so hard," Cedric teased, leaning back in his chair with an easy grin. "You're tense. Relax, like this." He demonstrated a subtle flick of his wrist, his expression serious for a moment, then the faintest shimmer of light twinkled from his wand's tip. "See?"

You rolled your eyes but couldn't help the smile that tugged at your lips. "You're just showing off, Ced."

He chuckled, clearly enjoying the moment. "And you're just jealous," he teased. You responded with a playful eye roll as he poked fun at you, both of you laughing as your conversation started to flow in a different direction.

It was then that George walked in, his familiar presence filling the space before you even saw him. His footsteps slowed when he saw you and Cedric, both of you too caught up in your little world to notice his arrival at first. He stood there for a moment, watching as you both chuckled at something Cedric had just said.

George's usual smirk was nowhere to be found. His gaze shifted between you and Cedric, an unfamiliar tightness in his chest that he couldn't quite ignore. He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against a nearby bookshelf, trying his best to keep his tone casual. "Well, you two definitely look cozy," George said, his voice more clipped than usual.

You glanced up, surprised at his sudden interruption. You tried to ignore what he said as you didn't want to cause a scene in front of Cedric and anyone else in the library. A small wave of guilt hit you, but you brushed it off, offering him a warm smile. "Babe! What's up?" you asked.

George's eyes flickered with a mixture of frustration and something you couldn't quite place, but his voice was calm, almost too calm. "Nothing. Just wanted to see if you were ready to head out," he replied, his gaze still fixed on you, though it kept darting back to Cedric. The way his jaw clenched told you everything you needed to know - he wasn't happy.

You stood up, pushing your chair back with a small scrape of wood against the floor. "Yeah, I'll be done in a minute," you said, glancing at Cedric. "Thanks for helping me with the spell work," you added, offering him a smile, but George's stiff posture didn't escape your attention.

Without another word, George turned and started walking toward the door, his steps heavier than usual, the sharp click of his shoes echoing in the otherwise quiet library. A twinge of guilt pinched at you as you watched him, his back now to you, and you felt your stomach twist.

"George!" you called after him, voice a little too loud for the library. His shoulders stiffened, but he didn't turn around.

You glanced back at Cedric, who seemed to be trying his best to look neutral, but you could see the understanding in his eyes. He gave you a small nod, telling you to go ahead and deal with whatever was going on with George. So you quickly grabbed your things, tossing your books into your bag and hurrying after George. He was already halfway down the corridor when you caught up, walking briskly with his head down, clearly trying to make a point.

"George, wait," you said, catching up to him and placing a hand on his arm. He stopped, but only briefly, his muscles tense under your touch. His eyes flickered over to you, and for a split second, you could see the storm brewing in them.

"Are you really gonna do this now?" he asked, his voice laced with a biting edge.

"Do what?" you asked, your heart pounding. "George, What's going on? Why are you acting like this?"

He turned to face you fully, his expression tight with something you couldn't quite read. "I don't know, maybe I'm just tired of seeing you always acting so lovey dovey with Cedric. That's all," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

You blinked, taken aback by his words. "What? George, it's nothing like that. We're just studying," you said, trying to reassure him, but the way his lips pressed together made you feel like he wasn't buying it.

"Yeah, sure, studying," he repeated, his voice low and heavy with jealousy. "Doesn't seem like just studying to me."

A wave of frustration hit you. "You're being ridiculous," you said, exasperated, but there was no anger in your voice, just concern. "We're friends, George. Why does it bother you so much?"

For a long moment, he didn't speak, and you couldn't quite tell if he was holding back or just trying to figure out what to say. When he finally met your eyes, it was with a look you hadn't really seen from him before - vulnerable, unsure, and maybe even a little hurt.

"Because," he began quietly, his voice softer now, "I don't like seeing you acting like that with someone else. I care about you so much more than you know."

Your heart skipped at his words, and the realization hit you like a wave. Before you could respond, George turned on his heel again, starting to walk away.

"George, wait!" you called once again, your voice more urgent this time, and you jogged after him. When you finally caught up to him, you grabbed his arm again, a little more firmly this time. "Stop walking away from me," you said, your voice wavering slightly but firm enough to make him pause.

He turned to you, his expression a mix of frustration and pain. "What do you want me to say, huh?" George snapped, though his voice cracked at the end. "That I'm jealous? Fine. I am. Happy now?"

The confession hung in the air between you, his words echoing in your mind. Your breath hitched as you looked at him, his vulnerability written all over his face. This wasn't the playful, confident George you were used to. This was someone raw, someone real, someone afraid.

"I- George..." You stumbled over your words, unsure of what to say. "I didn't mean to make you feel like that. Cedric and I; there's nothing going on. I promise."

He let out a bitter laugh, running a hand through his hair. "It's not just about Cedric. It's about me feeling like I don't even compare. Like I'm not enough for you."

Your heart ached at his words, and you stepped closer, reaching up to cup his face. He flinched slightly at the touch but didn't pull away. "You're wrong," you said softly, your voice trembling. "You are more than enough. You always have been."

His gaze searched yours, looking for the truth in your words. For a moment, he didn't say anything and you worried he still didn't believe you. But then, he sighed deeply, his shoulders relaxing as the tension began to ebb away. "I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice barely audible. "I shouldn't have acted like that. I just- seeing you with him, like that, it messed with my head."

You smiled faintly, your thumb brushing over his cheek. "It's okay. But you have to trust me, George. I love you, not Cedric. You're the only one I want to be with."

His eyes softened at your words, and a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "You really mean that?"

"Of course I do, you idiot," you said with a laugh, the tension between you finally breaking. "Now, can go get something to eat? I'm starving after today."

He chuckled, the sound lighter this time. "Yeah, okay. But only if I get to carry your bag."

You rolled your eyes but handed it over, watching as he slung it over his shoulder with a triumphant grin. The two of you walked side by side down the corridor, the earlier tension now almost nowhere to be seen.

Later that evening, as you sat with George in the cozy warmth of the Gryffindor common room, you couldn't help but notice how he seemed to be trying just a little harder than usual. His jokes were coming faster, his signature grin wider and brighter than ever. He was pulling out all the stops to make you laugh - and it was working.

"You know," you said between giggles as he mimicked one of Fred's particularly awful impressions, "we're going to wake the whole school at this rate."

George smirked, leaning back dramatically on the sofa. "If they wake up, it'll be worth it. Everyone can hear me cracking you up," he teased, nudging your knee with his. His playful expression softened as he added, "But really, I just like seeing you happy. That laugh of yours? It's mine to hear."

The sincerity in his voice made your chest ache, and you reached over to take his hand in yours. "It is," you agreed softly, your fingers intertwining with his. "And for the record, no one can make me laugh like you can, George Weasley."

A smug grin spread across his face, and he puffed out his chest exaggeratedly. "Obviously," he said, with mock arrogance. "Cedric might be good at spells, but he's got nothing on my comedic genius."

You snorted, swatting at his arm playfully. "You're impossible," you said, but your voice was full of affection.

"Impossible to resist," he countered, leaning in and brushing a soft kiss against your forehead.

As the fire crackled beside you, you nestled closer into his side. George's arm wrapped around your shoulders, and you felt the earlier tension melt away completely. There might be other people in your life, but at the end of the day, George was the one who truly knew how to make you feel at home.

H.P. masterlist

[kisses-for-you]

comfort - a. grant

athena grant x fem!reader

summary: you struggle with the trauma of a near-death experience and find comfort in your wife's arms.

w/c: 1.4k

⚠️ tw: mention of guns, shooting, and near-death experience

The night felt suffocating. The weight of everything that had happened settled heavily in your chest, leaving you breathless and anxious, still reliving the moment. The shooting had been sudden, violent, and close — too close. You could still hear the echo of gunfire, the sound of metal on metal, and the moment when you thought it would be your last breath. Since then, everything felt off, like your skin was too tight, like every corner you turned had some sort of hidden danger.

You sat on the couch in the dark, the flicker of the television dancing across your face. But it wasn't enough to chase away the shadows that had begun to creep into your mind. Athena had been at work when it happened but she wasn't at the scene. You hadn't told her what happened yet, how your knees had buckled and your lungs seized up with the fear of death. You hadn't told her about the nightmares that now plagued you whenever you tried to sleep or the anxious trembling that seemed to never leave your hands.

You felt broken and you didn't want to burden her with it.

But Athena always knew.

From the moment she stepped into the house that evening, her sharp eyes caught the way you hunched your shoulders a little tighter than usual, the way you barely looked up from the television, as though the sounds and colors would provide enough distraction to keep the anxiety at bay. But there wasn't really any hiding from her.

She didn't say anything at first. She walked over and settled herself next to you, close enough that her arm brushed yours. The familiar scent of her — clean, a little smoky, and unmistakably Athena — gave you the smallest sliver of comfort. But you didn't move. Your heart beat too fast and you felt the exhaustion creeping up on you, threatening to spill over in a way that terrified you.

Athena let the silence linger. She was good at that, knowing when to press and when to give you space. But tonight, she could sense you needed her more than you were willing to admit. After a long, silent moment, she shifted closer and wrapped her arm around your shoulder, pulling you gently against her side, her arm rubbing up and down your arm comfortingly.

"I know something's been going on with you," Athena's voice was low and soothing yet firm. The kind of tone she used when she needed to let you know she wasn't going to let this slide anymore. "You've been distant, and I can see that something is obviously bothering you. Talk to me, darling."

The knot in your throat tightened. You didn't want to break, not now, not in front of her. But it had been building for days, maybe even weeks and her words were too much. A tremor shook through you and before you could stop it, the tears welled up, no matter how hard you tried not to cry. You hated this. Hated feeling weak, hated feeling vulnerable, hated being afraid.

"I... I almost died," you finally whispered, the words spilling out between shallow breaths. Your voice was quiet, barely audible, but Athena heard every word. "There was a shooting, and I- I couldn't breathe, I couldn't move. I was so scared."

Her grip on you tightened instantly, her hand moving to rub soothing circles on your back. "Shit," she muttered under her breath, her jaw tight. "Why didn't you tell me?"

You sniffled, wiping at your eyes in frustration. "I didn't want to worry you. You already have so much on your plate with work, and I just… I didn't want to be a burden."

Athena's eyes softened and she turned your face toward hers, gently cupping your cheek. Her thumb brushed away a tear, and she shook her head. "You're never a burden to me. Never." Her voice made something in you crack. "I'm your wife. We're supposed to carry this stuff together, not alone. You don't have to go through this by yourself."

You leaned into her touch, the weight of her words settling deep inside you. But the fear, the anxiety, still lingered just beneath the surface. "I just… I keep hearing the gunshots, over and over, and I feel like I can't breathe sometimes. Like something bad is always about to happen."

Athena's brow furrowed in concern, but she stayed calm. She always did, even when everything else was falling apart. "You're safe now. I promise you that. And I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure you feel that way."

Her words were like a balm, soothing some of the storm inside you. She shifted again, this time pulling you fully into her arms, cradling you against her chest. You melted into her, pressing your face into the crook of her neck as she held you tightly, protectively. It was as though she was shielding you from the world itself.

"You don't have to be strong all the time," she whispered into your hair. "You don't have to hold it all in. I'm here. I've got you."

Your fingers curled into her shirt as you let out a shaky breath, the first real breath you'd taken all night. The tension in your body slowly began to unwind as you listened to the steady beat of her heart beneath your ear. Athena's hand continued to rub your back, her touch grounding you in a way that no amount of distraction or avoidance could.

"You know what I love most about you?" she murmured, her voice soft but steady. "It's that you're brave. Even when you don't feel like it, even when you're scared out of your mind, you face it. You've always been brave, and that's not going to change."

You squeezed your eyes shut, the lump in your throat returning, but this time it wasn't from fear. It was from the overwhelming love you felt for your wife, for her support and her fierce protectiveness. You didn't have to be strong with her, not when she was willing to carry some of the weight for you.

"I don't feel brave," you admitted, your voice barely a whisper.

Athena leaned back slightly, just enough to tilt your chin up so you could meet her eyes. "That's because you're human," she said softly. "We all get scared. But what matters is you didn't let it break you. You're still here. And you've got me by your side."

You had been running — trying to outrun the fear and the trauma — but now, wrapped in Athena's arms, you realized you didn't have to run anymore.

"I'm scared," you whispered, feeling the vulnerability in those words, but also the relief in finally admitting it.

Athena pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, her lips lingering there for a moment. "I know, baby. But you're not alone. I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere. We're going to get through this together."

And you truly believed her.

The weight in your chest didn't disappear completely, but it lightened. The anxiety was still there in the back of your mind but it was quieter now, less overwhelming. You curled up closer to Athena and in this moment, in her arms, you felt safe, even when the outside world felt uncertain.

Athena held you for what felt like hours, neither of you speaking much, just being in each other's presence. Every now and then, she would whisper soft reassurances, promising to always protect you.

Eventually, the exhaustion caught up to you, your body and mind finally giving in to the safety of her embrace. You let yourself relax completely, your head resting against her chest as your breathing slowed. Athena's fingers gently combed through your hair, her touch lulling you into a peaceful state you hadn't felt in what seemed like forever.

"I love you," you murmured, your voice barely audible as sleep began to take over.

Athena smiled against your hair, her arms tightening around you. "I love you too. Always." And with those words, you drifted off, curled up in the safest place you'd ever known.

911 masterlist

[kisses-for-you]

Hi! I saw you're taking 911 requests... would you maybe write an Eddie x reader where reader doesn't work at the station. She gets sick but she's kind of in denial and doesn't tell Eddie. He invites her to the station for lunch and she gets really dizzy and collapses from low blood sugar and dehydration. Lots of worried Eddie and then some fluff.

here it is!! 💜 hope you like it :)

[kisses-for-you]

sick - e. diaz

eddie diaz x fem!reader

summary: eddie waits for your lunch together at the firehouse, only to be confronted with you collapsing from illness and exhaustion.

w/c: 1.5k

requested ✔️

You and Eddie had planned a quiet lunch at the firehouse today — he had been looking forward to seeing you, especially after the long shifts that had kept him away for most of the week.

He checked his phone one more time, making sure you hadn't texted to cancel. You hadn't, though lately, Eddie had sensed something was off with you. You'd been quieter, your responses slower, and there was a tiredness in your voice he couldn't ignore.

Maybe you're just stressed, he reasoned. Work, life, everything could pile up sometimes. But he couldn't shake the nagging feeling that it was more than just that. Eddie paced back and forth in the firehouse, glancing out the windows, waiting to see your car pull up.

You'd been feeling awful for the past couple of days, but you were determined not to let it show. A tickle in your throat started innocently enough, but it had quickly evolved into something worse. Your head throbbed, your body ached, and every breath felt a little heavier than the last. It was probably just a cold, you told yourself. Nothing serious. You could power through it.

You hadn't mentioned it to Eddie. He was always so worried, and you didn't want to burden him with something as simple as a cold. Plus, you didn't want him to cancel his plans or take a day off just to take care of you. You were sure that you could handle this on your own.

But as you drove towards the station, you realised you were feeling a lot worse than you had originally thought. Your vision blurred slightly and your hands trembled on the steering wheel. You hadn't eaten much that morning — honestly, you couldn't remember if you had eaten at all. Drinking water may have also slipped your mind.

'Just a few more minutes', you thought, turning into the fire station's parking lot. You would see Eddie soon and maybe some food would help you shake this off. But as you stepped out of the car, a wave of dizziness hit you so hard that you had to grip the door for balance. Taking a deep breath, you pushed through, not wanting to alarm anyone. You walked into the station, your legs shaky beneath you.

Eddie spotted you the moment you stepped inside. His heart leaped in his chest, a familiar warmth spreading through him at the sight of you. But something was off. You looked pale, your movements slow and careful. His gut instinct kicked in immediately.

"Mi amor?" he called, closing the distance between you quickly. "Are you okay?"

You flashed him a weak smile, hoping to play it off. "Yeah, just a little tired. It's been a long week."

Eddie wasn't convinced. He studied your face, the slight flush in your cheeks, the way you swayed on her feet. He could tell you weren't being entirely truthful but before he could say anything, your legs buckled beneath you, sending you collapsing to the ground.

"Y/N!"

Eddie caught you just before you hit the ground. Panic surged through him as he cradled you in his arms, your body limp and unresponsive. His training kicked in, but this wasn't just any person — this was you.

"Hey, hey, talk to me," he said, gently tapping your cheek, trying to bring you back. Your eyelids fluttered open, and you groaned softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "Baby- I'm fine…"

"You collapsed," he said firmly, his worry laced with frustration. "That's not fine."

A few of his colleagues had noticed the commotion and rushed over but Eddie waved them off. "I've got her," he said, his voice steadier than he felt.

Carefully, he carried you to the couch in the lounge and set you down, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. "Drink this," he ordered, holding it to your lips.

You sipped the water, your throat dry and scratchy. "I think I might be a little sick," you admitted reluctantly, your head leaning back against the cushion.

"A little sick?" Eddie frowned, sitting beside you and brushing a hand over your forehead. "You're burning up. Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want to worry you," you whispered, your eyes closing again.

Eddie shook his head, disbelief and concern flooding him. "Worry me? Y/N, I'd rather be worried than have you collapse right in front of me. Have you even had anything to eat today?"

You shook your head slightly, feeling too exhausted to respond properly. Eddie sighed, running a hand through his hair, trying to keep his emotions in check. He hated seeing you like this — vulnerable, fragile, and in pain.

"You can't do this to yourself," he murmured softly, taking one of your hands in his. "You've got to take care of yourself, mi amor. You're not invincible."

"I know," you replied weakly, your voice hoarse. "I just… I didn't want to bother you."

Eddie's grip tightened ever so slightly, as if anchoring himself to you. "You're never a bother. Never. Do you hear me?"

You looked up at him with a faint smile, giving him a small nod.

"Good. Now I'm going to call Buck to bring over some medical supplies from the truck."

He pulled out his phone to call Buck and while he waited, he gently held your hand, his thumb rubbing soothing circles over your skin. You looked so much smaller and more fragile than normal.

Buck arrived with a first aid kit and a glucose monitor. "What happened?" he asked, his brow furrowing as he looked at you.

"She collapsed from low blood sugar and dehydration, I think," Eddie explained. "She's been sick and hasn't told anyone."

Buck gave Eddie a sympathetic look and handed over the monitor. "Let's check her sugar levels and get her hydrated."

Eddie worked quickly, pricking your finger and testing your blood sugar. It was low, as he suspected. He immediately offered you some juice and sat by your side, making sure you drank it all.

"I'm sorry," you murmured, your voice still weak.

Eddie sighed, his worry melting into something softer. "You don't have to apologize. I just wish you'd told me. I hate seeing you like this."

You leaned your head against his shoulder, feeling the weight of your exhaustion settle in. "I didn't want to bother you.”

"I know that, and I already told you, you're never a bother, Y/N," he said, kissing the top of your head. "I'm here for you, no matter what."

As you rested your head on Eddie's shoulder, his arm wrapped protectively around you. The juice helped a little, but you still felt shaky and weak. Eddie's voice broke the silence. "We're not leaving until you eat something. No arguments." He said it firmly, but there was a softness in his tone that made it clear how much he cared.

You opened your mouth to protest, but the look on his face stopped you. He wasn't going to budge.

"Buck, can you grab something from the kitchen?" Eddie asked over his shoulder. "Maybe a sandwich, something light?"

Buck nodded and quickly went to get food, while Eddie turned back to you. "I know you don't feel great, but you need to eat, even if it's just a little."

A few minutes later, Buck returned with a sandwich and some crackers. Eddie took the plate from him, thanking him, and set it in front of you, his eyes never leaving your face. "Just a few bites, okay?"

You hesitated, but Eddie's hand was gentle as it guided yours to pick up the sandwich. You nibbled at the edge, feeling too weak to do more, but Eddie's encouraging smile kept you going.

"That's it," he praised softly, his hand resting on your back. "You'll feel better once you get something in your system."

As you slowly ate, Eddie stayed close, quietly urging you to take another bite or another sip of water, all while watching you with concern etched across his face. You didn't have the energy to argue and truthfully, the more you ate, the more the exhaustion began to lift.

When you were finished, Eddie brushed a strand of hair away from your face and pressed a kiss to your forehead. "There. Now we're getting somewhere," he said, his voice lighter, though the worry in his eyes hadn’t fully faded.

"We're going to take it easy for the rest of the day," Eddie continued. "No more pushing yourself. I'm not letting you out of my sight until you're better."

You leaned into him, feeling comfort in his warmth. Eddie had a way of making you feel safe, and even though you hadn't wanted to worry him, you were grateful he was here.

911 masterlist

[kisses-for-you]

oblivious - e. diaz

eddie diaz x fem!reader

summary: eddie struggles with his growing feelings for you while his friends encourage him to confess.

w/c: 2.4k

Eddie Diaz stood near one of the fire trucks, his hands resting on the warm metal as he wiped the sweat from his brow. It had been a long day filled with calls, but the laughter of his friends filled the air, momentarily pushing away the stress of the job. However, Eddie's mind was somewhere else entirely — on you.

You had become a regular presence at the station since you started volunteering with the local community program. Your infectious laughter and compassionate heart drew everyone in, but for Eddie, you were something more. He admired your kindness, your determination, and the way you could make everyone smile, even on the toughest days. Yet, as he watched you joke with the others, Eddie felt the familiar knot in his stomach. He hadn't told you how he felt yet and it was becoming harder to keep it to himself.

"Hey, Eddie!" Buck's voice broke through his thoughts, pulling him back to the present. "You with us, buddy?"

Eddie looked up, trying to shake off the thoughts that had enveloped him. "Yeah, sorry. What's up?"

Buck exchanged a knowing look with Chimney and Hen. "We were just talking about how you've been looking at Y/N lately. You sure you're not in love with her or something?" Buck teased, a wide grin on his face.

Eddie felt his cheeks heat up at the mention of you. "I'm not in love with her," he said a little too quickly. "I mean, I like her, but…"

"But what?" Hen leaned forward. "You're saying that like it's a bad thing. She's amazing!"

"Exactly," Chimney chimed in. "You should go for it! Tell her how you feel."

Eddie felt trapped under their gaze, glancing over to where you were chatting with Bobby. You seemed completely oblivious to the attention you were receiving. "I don't know, guys. It's not that easy," he muttered.

"Why not?" Buck pressed. "You're a firefighter! You run into burning buildings for a living. How hard can it be to talk to a girl you like?"

"Have you ever tried talking to a girl you really like?" Eddie shot back. "It's not the same as saving someone from a fire."

"Fair point," Buck admitted, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "But still, you've got to give it a shot."

Just then, you turned toward them, your bright smile lighting up the room. "What's going on over here? You all look like you're plotting something."

"Just trying to convince Eddie to make a move," Hen said with a wink, her voice low but playful. Eddie felt his stomach drop. "Hen!" he hissed, but it was too late.

Your eyes sparkled with curiosity. "Make a move?" you echoed, tilting your head slightly. "On who?"

"Oh, you know… just some hypothetical situation," Eddie stammered, scrambling for a plausible excuse. "Like, uh, if someone were to have a crush on a certain volunteer… not that I do!"

The others snickered, and Eddie shot them a warning look. You, still oblivious, laughed lightly. "Well, if that someone needs any advice, I'm all ears," you said with a playful smile before returning to Bobby, leaving Eddie flustered.

"I'm never going to hear the end of this," he groaned, covering his face with his hands.

"C'mon, Eddie! Just talk to her!" Buck encouraged.

"Yeah, otherwise, you're just going to keep suffering in silence," Chimney added, clapping him on the back.

Eddie took a deep breath, his heart racing at the thought of confessing his feelings. Maybe it was time he finally told you. He glanced back at you, now once again chatting with Bobby, your eyes sparkling with laughter. If only you could see how much he cared for you.

The teasing continued throughout the evening, with Buck taking the lead. "So, Eddie, do you have any grand plans for your 'hypothetical crush'? A romantic dinner? A moonlit walk? A firehouse dinner date?"

Eddie groaned. "I don't know, Buck! Maybe I'll just write her a letter or something."

"Now you're talking!" Hen exclaimed, her eyes lighting up. "You could even leave it in her car or something! Super romantic."

"Yeah, just like in the movies," Chimney agreed, clearly enjoying teasing Eddie.

Eddie was torn between embarrassment and amusement. "You guys are ridiculous," he said, shaking his head with a chuckle.

The night wore on but Eddie's mind was elsewhere. As they wrapped up their dinner, he watched you as you helped Bobby clean up. He genuinely thought you were the most beautiful person he'd ever seen, and he felt a wave of longing wash over him.

"Okay, Eddie. We're heading out for the night," Buck said. "You coming with us?"

"I think I'm going to stick around for a bit," Eddie replied, feeling a mixture of excitement and dread. "I want to talk to Y/N."

"Good luck, Romeo," Chimney teased as he and Buck grabbed their things then headed for the door.

As the station quieted down, Eddie approached you as you were wiping down the counter. "Hey," he said, his voice low.

"Hey, Eddie!" you said, looking up with that warm smile that made his heart flutter. "What's up?"

"I just wanted to… um…" Eddie stumbled over his words, suddenly remembering all of his friends' teasing, making him even more nervous. "I wanted to thank you for everything you do around here. You make this place so much better."

You blinked in surprise, your smile widening. "That's so sweet of you to say! I really enjoy being here. You guys are like family."

Eddie chuckled softly at your words, giving a small nod. "And I really appreciate it. You've made a difference in my life."

You looked down for a moment, a hint of shyness creeping into your expression. "You know, I was thinking about how much fun we all have together. It's nice to have such good friends, especially with everything going on recently."

"Yeah," he agreed, his heart pounding. "I've been thinking about that too."

You looked back up at him, your brows slightly furrowed in thought. "Eddie, is something on your mind?"

This was it. Eddie took a deep breath, his heart racing as he prepared to finally tell you how he felt. "Y/N, I-"

Just then, the door swung open, and Bobby stepped in, interrupting Eddie. "Hey, guys! Did I miss anything?"

Eddie felt his chance slip away, frustration boiling under the surface. "No, just- nothing," he muttered, trying to regain his composure.

Bobby raised an eyebrow, clearly sensing the tension. "You okay, Eddie?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Eddie replied, forcing a smile. "Just talking."

You looked between the two men, your brows once again furrowed, but this time in confusion. "We were just talking about how much I enjoy being here," you said, your tone light.

Bobby nodded, not knowing he had just interrupted and ruined Eddie's confession. "That's great! The more, the merrier. We're lucky to have you."

As the conversation shifted to a different topic, Eddie felt a sense of defeat wash over him. He couldn’t believe he had lost his chance. Maybe he should just give up. After all, you didn't even seem to notice his feelings. But as the night went on, he realised that he couldn't give up that easily. He had to find a way to express himself, no matter how hard it was. Maybe he would take the advice of his friends and write you a letter. It seemed like a good way to get his feelings out without the immediate pressure of a face-to-face conversation.

A few days later, Eddie decided to act on his plan. He spent his lunch break writing a heartfelt letter, pouring out all the emotions he had bottled up for so long. He wrote about how much you meant to him, how you brightened his days, and how he admired your strength and compassion. Once the letter was finished, he folded it neatly and slipped it into an envelope. He sat for a moment, contemplating whether he should really go through with it. But then he thought about his friends’ words and your smile, and he knew he had to try.

Later that evening, as you were leaving the station, Eddie took a deep breath and approached you. "Hey, Y/N! Can I talk to you for a second?"

"Of course!" you replied, eyes lighting up with curiosity.

Eddie fumbled with the envelope in his pocket, his heart racing. "I… I wanted to give you something." He pulled out the envelope and handed it to her.

You looked surprised, your eyebrows raising slightly. "Oh! What is it?"

"Just read it," Eddie said, trying to keep his voice steady.

You nodded, your fingers trembling slightly as you opened the envelope. As you unfolded the letter, Eddie held his breath, watching your expression shift from curiosity to surprise, then finally to something softer. Your eyes scanned the paper and Eddie could almost hear the rapid thumping of his own heart echoing in his ears.

"Eddie…" you began, your voice barely above a whisper. Your gaze flickered from the letter to his face, and he could see the mix of emotions swirling in your eyes — confusion, surprise, and a hint of something else he hoped was excitement.

"Do you really mean all of this?" you asked as you folded the letter carefully.

Eddie nodded, his throat dry. "Yeah. Every word. I know I haven't been great at showing it, but I care about you a lot, Y/N. You make this place — and my life — better just by being in it."

A soft blush crept up your cheeks, and you looked down at the letter again, the corners of your mouth lifting into a smile. "I had no idea you felt this way," you replied, your tone sincere. "I thought you were just being friendly."

"I was trying to be," Eddie admitted, his nerves easing slightly. "But it's hard to ignore how perfect you are."

Your smile widened and you took a small step closer to him. "Eddie, this means a lot to me. I can't believe you were brave enough to write all of this. It's beautiful."

His heart soared at your words. "I just felt like I had to say it. I've been thinking about it for a while now, and I didn't want to miss my chance."

Your expression softened and Eddie could see you processing everything. "You know, I've always thought you were incredible too. You're kind, dedicated, and you care about everyone around you. I just didn't know if you'd ever see me as more than a friend.”

"Trust me, I do," Eddie said, taking a step closer. "I've been trying to figure out how to tell you for weeks."

You laughed softly, your eyes sparkling. "Well, I'm glad you finally did. I just wish I'd noticed sooner. I do tend to be a little.. oblivious sometimes."

"You're not the only one," he replied, a smile spreading across his face. You both chuckled at that.

“So, where do we go from here?” You asked, your gaze landing on his face, searching for answers.

Eddie’s heart raced as he contemplated the question. "How about we start with a date? Just you and me. I'd love to take you out to dinner — somewhere nice, where we can actually talk."

"I'd like that," you said, your expression brightening.

Eddie grinned, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. "Great! I'll plan something special. Just tell me anything that I should avoid."

"Definitely seafood," you said with a small laugh. "I'm not necessarily a fan of fish."

"Noted!" Eddie replied, a warm smile on his face. "No seafood. I can work with that."

Later that evening, Eddie joined his friends in the common area. They were scattered around the table and he felt a sudden surge of confidence. "Hey, everyone!" Eddie called out, catching their attention. "I have an announcement."

Buck leaned in, curiosity piqued. "What’s up? You finally figured out how to ask Y/N out?"

Eddie chuckled, his heart swelling with pride. "Actually, I did. We're going on a date!" The place erupted in cheers, and Eddie felt a mix of embarrassment and excitement wash over him. Buck jumped up, clapping him on the back. "I knew you could do it!"

The following days you and Eddie exchanged texts, planning your date. He learned about your favorite foods, your love for your hobby, and your aspirations for the future. Every conversation brought him closer to you, making him fall head over heels.

Finally, the day of the date arrived. Eddie found himself pacing around his apartment, checking the time and making sure he looked just right. He had opted for a casual but nice outfit — dark jeans and a fitted shirt.

When he arrived at the restaurant, Eddie felt a rush of nerves. But as soon as you walked through the door, looking gorgeous in the outfit you had picked out, all his anxiety melted away. You greeted him with a smile, and in that moment, he knew he had made the right choice.

"Wow, you look amazing," he said, his breath catching in his throat.

You blushed, your cheeks turning a shade of pink. "Thank you!" you respond, suddenly feeling too shy to say anything else.

You were seated at a cozy table with soft lighting, and as you began to chat over dinner, Eddie found himself captivated by your stories. You spoke all about your recent volunteering activities and your dreams. Eddie felt lighter than he had in a long time, as if the weight of his nervousness had lifted, replaced by the warmth of your presence.

As you left the restaurant, Eddie reached for your hand, intertwining your fingers. You looked up at him, surprise lighting your features before you smiled, squeezing his hand gently.

"Is this okay?" he asked, searching your eyes.

"More than okay," you replied softly, your cheeks flushing.

Walking side by side, you talked and laughed, enjoying the cool night air. Eddie felt a sense of happiness he hadn’t experienced in a long time, and as you neared your car, he knew he wanted to see you again soon.

"Let's do this again," he said, feeling a rush of determination. "I'd love to take you out again. Maybe next week?"

"Definitely," you responded, your eyes sparkling. "I'd love that."

As you reached your car, you turned to face him and he leaned in, brushing his lips against yours in a gentle kiss that left both of you breathless. Pulling away, Eddie smiled, the warmth of the moment lingering between them. "Goodnight, Y/N."

"Goodnight, Eddie," you replied, a smile on your face.

911 masterlist

[kisses-for-you]

Having a comfort fic but also has the most gut wrenching angst to it as well is perfection

[kisses-for-you]

forgotten date - e. buckley

evan buckley x fem!reader

summary: after missing your anniversary due to his job, Buck realises he needs to make it up to you.

w/c: 1.6k

It had been weeks since you and Evan had any quality time together. Between back-to-back shifts, emergency calls, there was just never enough time. You had tried to be understanding — Evan's job was demanding, and the sacrifices it required were constant. But tonight was supposed to be different. It was your 3-year anniversary, and he had promised to meet you at the restaurant you'd gone to on your first date.

You had spent all day looking forward to it. You got dressed up, put on some makeup, and did your hair. You couldn't wait to finally spend some quality time with your fiancé. At the restaurant, you sat by the window, glancing out every few minutes, expecting to see Buck pull up with that smile of his that had drawn you in the first time you met.

But as the minutes turned to an hour, your hope began to dim. You checked your phone again. No message. No missed call. He wouldn't just ditch you like that, right? He knows how important this date is to you and he wouldn't miss it, or at least not on purpose, but you were starting to doubt that he was actually going to show up.

Across town, unbeknownst to you, Buck was in the middle of an intense rescue mission. A fire had broken out in an apartment complex, and the team was working tirelessly to evacuate everyone. In the rush, time slipped away from him. Even as the fire started to calm and they secured the scene, his mind was still on the task at hand, his adrenaline too high to remember the dinner he’d promised.

Back at the restaurant, you were sitting alone, watching as couples came and went. The waiter politely asked if you were ready to order, only for you to decline. After two hours, the embarrassment and hurt were too much for you to handle. You quietly paid for the drinks you'd ordered while waiting and left, the rain pouring down outside, soaking you as you walked to your car.

By the time Buck got back to the station and finally remembered, it was far too late. He glanced at his phone, dread filling his chest as he saw your name on the screen. Missed calls. A few messages, at first excited, then worried, and finally one that stung the most: "I guess you're not coming."

He rushed out of the firehouse, still in his uniform, heart pounding in his chest. Buck drove straight to your shared apartment, hoping that somehow he could explain, that somehow this could be fixed. But when you opened the door, the look on your face shattered him. It wasn't anger — it was sadness. Deep, aching sadness that Buck had put his job, once again, before you.

"You didn't even call," you said quietly, stepping aside to let him in, though you weren't sure if you really wanted to talk to him. "You forgot, didn't you?"

Buck's mouth opened to apologize, to explain, but the words died in his throat. He had forgotten. He hadn't meant to, but what good were his intentions when he still hurt you unintentionally? He saw the effort you had put in — your outfit, the soft makeup, the hair you'd styled just for him — and it made him feel like the worst person alive.

"I'm sorry," he finally managed, voice cracking. "The fire- it was bad. I didn't realize how late it was, and I-"

You cut him off, your tone gentle but distant. "It's not just about tonight, Buck. It's every time. I get it, your job is important, but... I'm here too. I needed you tonight, and you weren't there. Not even a text. Nothing."

Buck ran a hand through his hair, his heart sinking further. "Baby, I swear, I didn't mean to forget. I would never hurt you on purpose."

"I know you wouldn't," you replied, your eyes brimming with tears. "But it doesn't change the fact that I'm standing here, feeling like an idiot for thinking you'd actually show up. I don't know how many more times I can do this," you paused, steadying your breath. "I wait, and I worry, and I tell myself it's okay because you're saving lives. But what about us, Buck? Who's going to save us?"

The silence that followed was unbearable. Buck reached out, taking your hands in his, but you didn't squeeze back. His stomach twisted as what you said hit him. This wasn't just about a forgotten date — it was about the cracks in your relationship that had been forming for a long time.

"I love you, Y/N," he said, voice low and honest. "I don't want to lose you. Please… let me fix this."

You pulled your hands away, wrapping your arms around yourself. "I love you too, Buck, but I don't know if that's enough when I keep feeling like this. I don't want to be the person you constantly forget about because of your job. I can't live like that."

Buck's chest tightened, the reality hitting him hard. He had always known the risks that came with his job, but he never thought it would be what tore you apart. Now, standing in front of the person he loved, he realized that it wasn't just his life on the line every time he went out on a call — it was your relationship too.

"I'll do better," Buck promised, though he wasn't even sure how to make that happen. "Please… just give me another chance."

Your gaze softened, but the pain was still there. "I don't want promises, Buck. I need actions. I need you to show me that we matter. That I matter."

Buck felt a knot in his chest, but he nodded. He didn't want to leave things like this. "What if… what if we start right now?" he said, his voice gentle. "We don't have to go out or do anything big. How about we just have a movie night? I'll shut my phone off, and we can spend the evening together. No distractions, no interruptions. Just us."

You looked at him for a long moment, the hesitation clear in your eyes. "No firehouse calls, no emergencies?"

Buck smiled, though it was tinged with a bit of sadness. “Of course."

After a moment, you nodded. "Okay. Let's have a movie night," you said, a small smile spreading across your face.

Relief washed over Buck, and he wasted no time in making good on his promise. He quickly changed out of his uniform while you set up the living room. A few minutes later, you were curled up on the couch under a soft blanket, Buck's arm wrapped protectively around your shoulders. The TV played a movie, but neither of you were really paying much attention to the movie.

It wasn't about the movie; it was about being together.

Buck kept his arm around you, holding you close, his thumb gently tracing soothing circles on your arm. After some time, you leaned into him more, resting your head on his chest.

"I'm sorry I let you down," Buck murmured, his voice low as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. "I never want you to feel like you're not a priority. You mean everything to me."

You sighed softly, the warmth of Buck's embrace slowly easing the hurt that had been building up. "I know your job is important, Buck, but I just… I want to feel like I'm important too. Like you want to be here as much as you want to be out there saving people."

Buck tightened his hold on Y/N, his heart aching at their words. "I do want to be here. I love my job, but I also love you more. I'll show you, okay? I'll make more time for us. I don't want to lose this. I don't want to lose you."

You looked up at him, your eyes searching his face. Seeing the sincerity in his eyes, you gave him a small, tired smile. "I don't want to lose you either, Buck."

Buck grinned and leaned down, closer to you. "Good. Because I'm planning on keeping you forever."

You chuckled softly. "Forever’s a long time, Buck."

"Exactly my point," Buck teased. "So you're stuck with me."

You smiled and rested your head back on his shoulder. "I think I can live with that."

For the next few hours, you stayed like that, curled up together. At one point, Buck pulled a corner of the blanket up and draped it over your legs, tucking you in a little closer. "Can't have you getting cold," he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear, making you shiver.

Eventually, the conversation trailed off, and the warmth of Buck’s body, combined with the low hum of the movie, made you doze off, your head resting on him. Buck noticed when your breathing became deeper, your body relaxing fully against his.

He glanced down at you, his heart swelling with affection. Your hand was still resting on his chest, your fingers loosely gripping his shirt. Smiling softly, Buck took your hand in his, lacing his fingers through yours as he gently stroked the back of your hand with his thumb. He kissed the top of your head, careful not to wake you. Your head nuzzled deeper into the crook of his neck, your body sinking further into his warmth.

Buck leaned his head back against the couch, eyes half-lidded as he watched the movie play on in the background. It wasn't a grand gesture or a big apology, but in that moment, Buck knew this was what you needed — time together, without the world pulling him away. As you slept peacefully on his shoulder, Buck held you close, vowing to never take your love for granted again.

911 masterlist

[kisses-for-you]

saved - e. diaz

eddie diaz x gn!reader

summary: during a dangerous building fire rescue, eddie's fear of losing you forces him to confront his emotions and confess to you.

w/c: 1.4k

The sirens blared through the city streets as the 118 sped towards their next call. It was a routine day, or as routine as things got in their line of work. You sat in the back of the truck, checking your gear. Eddie sat across from you, his eyes following your movements even though he tried to remain focused on the call. You were close friends but lately, Eddie had started considering the fact that maybe his feelings went beyond just a simple friendship. He'd pushed them down, convinced that it was just the stress of the job playing tricks on his heart.

But today felt different. The air in the truck was heavy, and something about this call gave Eddie a bad feeling. "You okay, Eddie?" you asked, catching him staring.

He blinked, snapping back to reality. "Yeah, I'm good. You?"

You nodded, flashing him that reassuring smile you always gave when you were heading into dangerous situations. "Yeah, I’m ready. Let's do this."

The call had come in about a building fire, one of the worst you'd seen in weeks. Several floors were already engulfed, and a group of people was trapped inside. As the truck came to a halt, you jumped out and joined the rest of the team. The thick smoke loomed over you, the fire roaring louder than usual. Bobby gave quick orders. You and Eddie were paired up, as usual. You seemed to work best together, always knowing the other's moves before you made them.

"Let's be quick about this," Bobby said, his voice firm over the comms. "We’ve got limited time before the structure’s compromised. Stay together."

Inside, the heat was suffocating, even with your gear. Flames lit up the way and the smoke was so thick that it was hard to see more than a few feet ahead. Your radios crackled with updates from the rest of the team, but Eddie's focus was solely on keeping you in his line of sight. Every time you moved forward, he was right there, close behind, watching your back. He watched you as you both cleared each room, calling out for survivors, his heart tightening with each passing second. Every time you turned a corner, his breath caught in his throat. It wasn't just the fire that made him nervous — it was the thought of losing you.

You found the first survivor on the second floor, a young woman huddled in a corner, clutching her child. You and Eddie worked together to get them out, Buck and Chim leading them to exit. But once you reached the third floor, things started to spiral.

The structure groaned above you, the fire spreading faster than anticipated. Smoke filled the air, making it difficult to see. As you approached the next room, you took the lead, pushing through a stubborn door.

"Y/N, wait!" Eddie called, sensing something wrong.

But it was too late. The moment you stepped into the room, the ceiling above you gave way. Eddie lunged forward, grabbing you by the arm and pulling you back just as debris crashed down, narrowly missing you. For a second, time stood still. You were both on the floor, coughing from the smoke, adrenaline pumping through your veins.

"Are you okay?" Eddie asked, his voice tight, fear flashing in his eyes as he held your arm a little longer than necessary. You coughed, your breath labored but nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine. That was close."

Too close, Eddie thought. His chest ached at the sight of you, the weight of what almost happened crashing down on him.

As you pulled yourselves up and continued the search, the intensity of the fire grew. You found two more survivors, an elderly couple, but the building's groans became more frequent and louder. Bobby’s voice came through the radio, urgency clear in his tone.

"Get out now! The building’s coming down!"

But you weren't done. There were still reports of one more person trapped on the top floor. Eddie and you exchanged a look, both knowing what you had to do. "Eddie, we don't have time," you warned, but your tone was conflicted. You knew you didn't have time to go but you also didn't want Eddie to do it alone.

Eddie shook his head. "I'm not leaving anyone behind. You can go. I'll catch up."

You responded, "I'm not leaving you." Your words hit Eddie like a punch to the gut; you had said that to each other countless times, but it felt different now. Eddie’s heart pounded as he led the way up the stairs, his mind racing with everything he wanted to say to you but couldn’t.

The top floor was a maze of flames, the heat so intense it was almost unbearable. You found the last survivor, an older man unconscious near a window. You moved to help him, and that's when it happened. The floor beneath you and the man gave way. Eddie barely had time to register the crash before he saw you go down with the collapsing floor, the man you were helping tumbling with you.

"Y/N!" Eddie screamed, panic flooding his system.

He rushed to the edge, looking down to see you trapped beneath rubble, barely conscious. You were pinned, the fire inching closer. Without thinking, Eddie jumped down to you, ignoring the pain that shot through his leg when he landed. His hands moved frantically, trying to free you from the debris.

"Eddie…" Your voice was weak, your eyelids fluttering. "You need to go. You can't…"

"I'm not leaving you," Eddie growled, his heart pounding. "I can't lose you, Y/N. I won't."

You coughed again, trying to speak, but the smoke was too thick. Eddie worked faster, his muscles straining as he lifted a beam off your legs. You couldn't help but cry out in pain as the pressure was lifted off your legs.

Eddie winced at the sound of your pain, but he didn't stop. He wouldn't stop until you were safe. His breathing was ragged, his limbs shaking from the exertion, but the fire was closing in, and he knew you didn't have much time. Bobby's voice crackled through his radio again, more urgent this time.

"Eddie! What's your status? The building's going to collapse!"

Eddie glanced up, seeing the flames creeping closer. All he cared about was you. He'd made a promise, to himself and to you, that he'd always have your back. Leaving you wasn't an option. With a final grunt, Eddie freed you, pulling you into his arms. "Hold on, Y/N, I've got you," he whispered, though the words felt more like a prayer.

You were barely conscious, your head resting against his chest as he stood, the weight of both you and the collapsing building pressing down on him. Every second counted. He hoisted you over his shoulder and made a break for the stairs, pain radiating through his leg but ignored in favor of saving you.

Somehow, you made it out. Eddie carried you through the flames, refusing to stop until you were out of the building. The moment you burst through the doors and into the open air, Eddie collapsed to his knees, still holding you tightly. The rest of the team rushed to you, paramedics quickly taking over, but Eddie didn't let go of your hand.

As you laid on the gurney, oxygen mask over your face, you opened your eyes just enough to look at Eddie. Your voice was barely a whisper when you spoke. "You saved me."

Eddie shook his head, his emotions finally spilling over. "You saved me, Y/N. Every day, you save me. I-" He paused, his heart pounding in his chest. "I love you. I've loved you for a long time, and I can't… I can't keep pretending like I don't."

Your eyes softened, a tear slipping down your cheek. You squeezed his hand, your grip weak but firm enough to let him know you felt the same. "I love you too, Eddie. I always have."

The weight of those words, so long unsaid, lifted something in Eddie's heart. For the first time in a long time, despite the chaos around, he felt a sense of peace. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, promising himself that from now on, he would never let you go.

Because in this world, there are no guarantees for a tomorrow. And Eddie Diaz wasn't going to waste another second pretending his heart didn’t belong to you.

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[kisses-for-you]

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requests are closed. feel free to send one, but i won't be able to write it until i reopen requests!! :)

evan 'buck' buckley:

-> shot

-> forgotten date

edmundo 'eddie' diaz:

-> saved

-> oblivious

-> sick

howard 'chimney' han:

->

athena grant:

-> comfort

henrietta 'hen' wilson:

->

robert 'bobby' nash:

->

preferences:

->

[kisses-for-you]

shot - e. buckley

evan buckley x gn!reader

summary: a visit to the 118 goes wrong when a grief-stricken man with a gun storms in.

w/c: 2.4k

⚠️ TW: gun, shooting

You made your way to the 118 firehouse, a container of cheesecake cradled in your arms. You'd baked it especially for them, making sure to save an extra slice for Chimney, who had raved about it last time.

As you stepped inside, Buck greeted you with his signature smile, his blue eyes lighting up as he noticed the dessert in your hands. "You really didn't have to," he said, pulling you into a hug. "I wanted to," you replied, enjoying the comfort of his embrace. "Besides, Chimney practically begged for more last time."

Buck laughed, taking the cheesecake from you and leading you upstairs to set it on the table where the rest of the crew was gathered. "You should stay awhile," he suggested. "At least until the next call." It didn't take much convincing. Spending time with Buck and his team always made you feel like you were part of something special - they were like a second family to you.

But the peaceful atmosphere didn't last.

About fifteen minutes later, a shout echoed from downstairs, shattering the mood. Everyone turned their heads toward the commotion, a collective unease settling over the group. Everyone exchanged wary glances before rising to investigate. As you all gathered at the top of the staircase, what you saw sent a cold chill down your spine. A man stood at the bottom, brandishing a gun, his voice trembling with rage and desperation. "You killed my wife!" he screamed, his face contorted in agony. "Now you're all going to pay!" The man's behavior sent a wave of fear through you as he ordered everyone downstairs.

Your heart pounded in your chest, but you couldn't afford to panic. Slowly, you began descending the stairs with the others, taking note of the man's shaky hands, the sweat beading on his forehead, and the wild look in his eyes. You leaned toward Buck, your voice barely above a whisper. "Look at him closely, babe. He looks like he's under the influence of something."

Buck followed your gaze, his brows furrowing as he observed the man more closely. You continue, "His hands are trembling a lot, he's sweating excessively and his eyes look wide and panicked. That can't be normal." Buck nodded in agreement, whispering back, "You're right. If he really is under the influence, it makes this ten times more dangerous because he could be unpredictable. We need to be careful."

Before you could say anything else, the man's eyes snapped to you. "What are you whispering about?" he demanded. "N-nothing," you stuttered, hating how fear made your voice falter. "Better be," he growled, his eyes darting between you and Buck.

Buck gently put his hand on the small of your back, his touch bringing some comfort to you. ‌"It's okay, baby. We'll be fine," he tried to reassure you, but he didn't seem so certain himself.

Once you were downstairs, everyone spread out slightly, but Buck stayed close, his touch never leaving you. The man's breathing was erratic, and he was clearly unstable. You kept glancing at Buck, who kept his hand lightly on your back, a silent promise that he wouldn't let anything happen to you. "Stay calm," Buck whispered again, his voice low and controlled, even though you could feel his pulse quicken through the light pressure of his hand.

The man's gaze darted between the firefighters, paranoia swirling in his bloodshot eyes. His grip on the gun tightened, knuckles white against the metal. "You think I'm bluffing?" he growled, eyes wild. "You think I won't do it?"

‌Behind you, Eddie slowly moved to your right, his movements so subtle that you almost didn't notice. You could tell he was preparing for something, but you weren't sure what. ‌Chimney tried to reason with the man, "We're not the ones who hurt your wife, man. Let's talk about this, figure out what happened. There's no need for this to get worse."

‌The man's hand shook even more violently, the gun bobbing in the air. "Shut up! You don't know anything!"

Hen had positioned herself slightly to the left, closer to the phone. The man glanced away for a moment, his focus faltering. ‌But then, suddenly, he snapped back to you and Buck, eyes narrowing. "You two," he snarled, pointing the gun directly at you. "You were whispering. Come here."

Buck stepped forward in front of you, shielding you instinctively. "Leave her out of this. She's not the one you want," he said, his voice dangerously steady, but there was a tremor underneath that only you could hear. The man's eyes darted between the two of you, flickering with uncertainty. His breathing grew more erratic by the second. You knew Buck was ready to move if he had to, but the wrong move could end disastrously.

‌You took a deep breath, trying to keep your voice steady as you started to speak, hoping to diffuse the situation as best as you could. "We don't want any trouble. Please, just put the gun down. We can talk this out, okay?"

‌The man wavered for a split second, his grip faltering. His eyes flickered to you, and for a moment, you saw some uncertainty, or even hesitation. His grip on the gun loosened slightly, his stance wavering. You hoped this would de-escalate or else this would all spiral out of control.‌ "You don't have to do this," you said softly, keeping your hands where he could see them. "Whatever happened to your wife, it wasn't their fault. They're just here to help."

‌For a moment, the man looked confused at your words. He probably assumed you were also a firefighter but he seemed to realise that you weren't. Then, his face twisted in anger. "Help? You call letting her die helping?" His voice cracked, desperation leaking into his words. He looked over at the rest of the 118. "I trusted you guys. She trusted you!"

‌Eddie inched a little closer, but the man suddenly noticed the movement, snapping his attention back to Eddie. "Stop!" he yelled, pointing the gun wildly between all of you. "Stay where you are! I swear, I'll shoot!" ‌Eddie froze, hands up, and you felt your heart hammering in your chest. Buck stepped closer to you again, his body tense, ready to move if needed. ‌"Listen," Buck said, his voice calm but firm. "We're sorry about what happened to your wife. But this isn't going to help. This isn't going to bring her back. Please, let's just talk."

‌The man's face contorted with pain, his eyes glossy, filled with unshed tears. His arm was trembling so badly that you feared he might pull the trigger by accident. His voice wavered, "I-I don't know what to do anymore..."

‌Hen, who'd managed to get a little closer to the phone, locked eyes with you. She signalled for you to keep him talking. The longer you stalled, the better chance you had of getting help. ‌Taking a breath, you spoke gently. "I can't imagine how much you're hurting. Losing someone like that... it's unbearable. But this isn't what your wife would want."

‌He lightly flinched at that, and you knew you'd struck something deep. Did you say the wrong thing? You hoped you hadn't or you could end up dead - or even worse, one of the 118. "You don't know what she'd want," he muttered, though the conviction in his voice was fading.

‌"I don't," you admitted. "But I can tell you loved her. And I know that if she was here right now, she'd want you to be safe. She wouldn't want you to throw your life away."

‌Tears slipped down his cheeks, and his hand shook violently, the gun lowering just slightly. But then, almost out of nowhere, a sharp ring pierced the air - the phone. ‌The man jumped, startled by the sound, and in his panic, his finger tightened on the trigger.

Bang!

Everything happened in a blur. You felt Buck pulling you to the ground as the shot rang out. There was shouting, movement all around, and you didn't even know where the bullet went. Your ears rang from the sound, and your heart felt like it was about to burst out of your chest.

‌When you finally managed to focus again, you saw Eddie and Bobby rushing toward the man, disarming him as he stumbled backward in shock. Hen and Chimney were already moving to check on everyone.

‌Buck looked down at you, still shielding you even though the danger had passed. Until he felt something. ‌Buck pulled away slightly, his eyes widening in horror as he noticed the blood soaking through your shirt. "No, no, no..." he muttered, his hands trembling as he pressed down on your abdomen. You hadn't even realized you'd been hit, the shock of everything numbing the pain.

‌"Buck?" your voice came out weaker than you intended and the moment you heard it, the reality started to sink in. The bullet must have hit you. You tried to focus, but the pain was spreading, sharp and hot.

‌"Hey, stay with me," Buck said urgently, panic creeping into his voice. "You're gonna be okay. Chim! Hen!" His voice cracked as he called for help, but you could barely focus on him anymore. The world felt fuzzy at the edges, the sound of everyone around you starting to blur.

‌Chimney was beside you in an instant, his hands moving quickly to assess the wound. "Alright, we've got you," Chim said, his voice steadier than Buck's, but you could see the worry etched in his face. Hen was already rushing to grab supplies and Eddie tried to move Buck to the side but Buck refused to budge, his hand still pressed against the wound, his eyes locked on yours. "Stay with me, please," Buck whispered, his voice breaking. You could see the desperation in his eyes, his fear for you palpable.

‌Chimney spoke more urgently now. "Buck, you need to let us work. We need to stop the bleeding." ‌Buck hesitated, his grip tightening as if letting go of you would mean losing you, but finally, he stepped back, allowing Chimney to take over. Hen was back in seconds, placing pressure on the wound as Chimney worked quickly, his face calm but focused.

‌You felt Buck's hand grasp yours, his fingers trembling. "You're gonna be fine," he kept saying, over and over, as if trying to convince himself as much as you. But your body felt heavy, the pain sharp. ‌You tried to speak, to tell him you were okay, but the words wouldn't come out. Instead, you just squeezed his hand weakly, hoping it was enough.

‌"Hang in there," Hen said as she prepared an IV, her hands moving swiftly. "We'll get you to the hospital soon."

‌Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion. The world around you was dimming, the edges of your vision going dark. You could hear the sirens in the distance, you knew help was coming but it felt so far away. Buck's voice was the only thing grounding you, the only thing keeping you from slipping away entirely.

‌"I love you," Buck said, his voice barely above a whisper, the words laced with fear. "Please... don't leave me." ‌You tried to hold on to that, to his voice, to the warmth of his hand, but the pain was overwhelming. The last thing you saw before the darkness took over was your boyfriend's face, tear-streaked and terrified, as the world faded to black.

(TIMESKIP - the next day)

When you finally woke up, the harsh lights above blurred into focus. Your body felt heavy, your chest tight with pain. For a moment, everything was hazy, and you couldn't remember how you got there, but then it hit you like a truck. The gunman, the shot, Buck's terrified voice.

‌You blinked, your vision clearing just enough to see Buck sat beside you, his eyes red and puffy from crying. His hand was wrapped around yours, his grip so tight you wondered if he'd been holding it like that the whole time.

‌"Buck," you whispered, your voice weak. The simple act of speaking made your throat burn, but you needed to let him know you were here, okay - or at least alive. ‌"You're awake," he breathed, his voice thick with emotion. He sat up straighter, leaning closer to you. "Thank God, you're awake."

‌You managed a weak smile, though every movement felt like a huge effort. "Hey," you whisper, "It's okay, Buck. I'm okay."

‌Buck let out a breathy laugh, though it was laced with a kind of relief and disbelief. "You scared the hell out of me," he said, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. "I thought-" He swallowed hard, his voice cracking slightly. "I thought I was going to lose you."

‌Buck looked like he was barely holding it together. "Baby, your heart stopped. It-" he paused, his voice shaking. "But they brought you back. You're okay now. You're going to be okay." He said it like he's reassuring himself. ‌You glanced down at yourself, seeing the bandages across your abdomen. It hurt but the pain was nothing compared to the fear you had felt before everything went black.

‌"I was so scared," Buck continued, his voice breaking as he squeezed your hand again. "I couldn't do anything but watch you bleed, and I..." He trailed off, shaking his head as if trying to shake away the memory. "I don't know what I would've done if we lost you."

‌"Shh," you murmured, managing to lift your other hand weakly to touch his face. "I'm right here." ‌He closed his eyes at the touch, leaning into your hand. "I love you," he whispered again, like he needed you to know, like you might forget if he doesn't say it enough. "You mean everything to me."

‌Tears stung your eyes, the overwhelming emotions mixing with the pain in your body. "I love you too, Buck," you whispered back. The words were weak, but they were all you could give him in that moment.

‌He smiled, though it was shaky, brushing his thumb over your knuckles. "Just rest, okay? The doctors said you're going to need time to heal."

‌You nodded slowly, exhaustion starting to pull at you again. The pain meds were dulling the ache in your body but your body was craving rest. As you closed your eyes again, Buck's hand stayed firmly in yours. He promised himself he would stay with you however long you needed him to.

911 masterlist