#I think I’ll step away from this fandom for the time being

[supercalime]

I’m sorry WHAT THE FUCK

[bad268]

Love your writingg!!

Could you write a oneshot with ollie when reader couldn't make it to a race and she got sick while at home but didnt tell ollie cuz it couldve made him shit the race and he comes back home at takes care of herr??

+hiii!! idk if ure still taking request, but maybe an ollie x reader where she gets her wisdom tooth out and the aftermath is just her being chaotic and funny while ollie just goes with everything.

but yeah, i think it’s pretty cute. thank you!

Boyfriend Of The Year (Ollie Bearman X Reader)

Fandom: RPF/F2/F3

Requested: Clearly (I just did a sick fic, so i decided to incorporate these. Hope yall don't mind <3)

Warnings: Wisdom teeth surgery and recovery

POV: Majority Second Person (You/your), some Third Person (They/them)

W.C. 2301

Summary: A routine dentist appointment turns into a secret to keep Ollie sane.

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Pinterest)

Your phone was blowing up with texts from Ollie. He was probably wondering where you were at this point since you promised to be at the qualifying session, but due to a dentist appointment scheduled between the sessions, you had to split up. Ollie and his dad drove together, and you took an uber to your appointment. Well, at that dentist appointment, you found out that your chronic jaw pain was actually your wisdom teeth getting dangerous. They were growing inwards and pressing your teeth, so your dentist strongly encouraged an emergency wisdom teeth removal for the same day. Ollie was going to be pissed and you knew it.

“Hey, CareBear,” You greeted in a fake tone. You were still at the dentist, but you stepped outside to get a little bit of privacy. “What’s up?”

“Don’t ‘Hey CareBear’ me! Where are you? You said you were gonna be here,” Ollie asked. He was finally able to let out a breath after running around the paddock trying to find where you were. When he couldn’t find you, he started asking around, but no one had seen you. Then, he started calling you, and coincidentally, the calls were during your x-rays or consultation, so you were not answering. It was driving him insane. “Are you almost here?” 

“The dentist was short-staffed, so they haven't gotten me in yet,” You came up with on the fly. You knew he would hate that you lied to him, but he would also throw his entire race weekend away for you. Yes, it was adorable and it’s part of what made you love him, but this was not the time to be a loving boyfriend. This was the time to show everyone why he deserved the Haas seat. He could be boyfriend of the year afterward. “I can text you when I’m done, but I need to see them today. You know how bad my jaw has been hurting lately.”

“Oh?” Ollie smirked as he lowered his voice, about to make a joke but his dad walked right past him.

“Don’t even start, Oliver,” You pressed as you saw your dentist gesturing for you to come back in, so they could prepare you for the surgery. “Listen, CareBear, I gotta go. I think they’re ready to take me back. I’ll text your dad to pick me up when we start wrapping up. You need to get back for debrief or start preparing for quali.”

“Yeah, I should probably eat something,” Ollie said to himself as he scratched the back of his neck. He had never had to go into qualifying without you, so he was a bit nervous. However, he totally understood that this was something you needed to do. “I’ll get on pole for you.”

“I expect you in the top 22, nothing less,” You joked as you both said goodbye and hung up the call. You headed back inside as they started giving you the rundown on how the surgery would occur. For once, you were thankful for scheduling your appointment in the morning and not eating beforehand. Just before they would put you under, you decided to call Ollie’s dad. It didn’t take long for him to answer.

“Hey, Y/n,” David greeted immediately as he walked toward the back of the garage, “Need me to pick you up? That was awfully quick.”

“Actually no,” You chuckled nervously. “Don’t tell Ollie until after quali, but I’m getting my wisdom teeth out right now. If we tell him, he’s going to freak out.”

“Was this the plan the whole time?” He asked, quieting down as Ollie walked by nonethewiser. He was finishing up before he would be getting in the car, so he had enough on his plate, in your opinion.

“No, I just found out that the jaw pain I thought was the start of TMJ was actually my wisdom teeth growing inwards,” You explained with a smile as you watched your dentist finish setting everything out. “Listen, David, I’ll need you to pick me up in like an hour. Maybe after qualifying break it to him? Or just let him figure it out when I’m loopy. I really don’t care.”

“I’ll take care of him, don’t worry,” David reassured as he saw Ollie gesturing for him to come over before he would get in the car. “Have them call me when you’re done, and we’ll pick you up.”

You thanked him before ending the call and heading into the back where the operation would take place. 

The qualifying session went by quickly for Ollie because it was basically a one-lap shot. Right after the first laps, it started pouring rain, so when Ollie was at the top of the timing page, no one was able to beat him. He tried to call you as soon as he got out of the car, but every call went straight to voicemail. It freaked him out a little, but he brushed it off, thinking you were still getting your cleaning. It wasn’t until his dad was ushering him to change and get to the car park almost as soon as he wrapped up media that he started thinking something was wrong. Ollie sat nervously in the passenger seat as his dad drove in silence, which was completely unusual for him, so he decided to try and break the tension.

“So, dad,” He dragged out as he looked over at his dad. They pulled up to a red light, and David looked at Ollie. “Where are we going?”

“The dentist,” David said simply as he moved the car into first gear when the light changed. “We need to pick Y/n up.”

“Shouldn’t they have finished up during quali?” Ollie asked before muttering to himself, “I thought they would have been in the garage by the end of media.”

“They had to get some work done,” David responded. It was light-hearted, so Ollie wasn’t too worried. When they pulled up, he parked the car but made no move to get out for a second, causing Ollie to look over confused. “They had to get their wisdom teeth out.”

“What? Why didn’t you tell me?” Ollie freaked out, immediately getting out of the car and trying to reach the front door before his dad. Unfortunately for him, his dad anticipated this and beat him to the punch by blocking the door. “Dad, let me in.”

“No, you need to understand why we didn’t tell you,” David pressed as he put a hand on Ollie's shoulder and sheered him back toward the car. “They didn’t want you to be nervous in qualifying. It’s getting to the end of your season, and next year, you’ll be in F1. Everyone’s eyes are on you, and the last thing they wanted was for you to get nervous and risk your position in the championship.”

“That makes no sense! I wouldn’t have thrown the session!” Ollie disputed as he threw his hands up.

“Oh, please,” David tsked, “You almost crashed the car when you found out they had a headache a few months ago. Of course, you wouldn’t completely compromise your qualifying session knowing they were getting surgery. That sounds totally believable to me.” 

“Maybe you have a point,” Ollie mumbled as he dripped his hands to his sides in defeat. He looked back over to his dad as he sighed, “Can we go in now?”

“Are you going to cause a scene?”

“No.”

~

POV Switch-Third POV

All the while, Y/n was just waking up. The team had wrapped up the surgery at the end of qualifying and called David, saying he didn’t need to rush since they still needed to ween Y/n off of the meds and they still needed to pass the memory tests.

Y/n didn’t remember even waking up, but they did semi-register people walking in, around, and out of their room. Most of them were dentists or nurses checking their vitals, but then two people walked in that didn’t look like a dentist or nurse. It was Ollie and David, but Y/n was still too out of it to recognize them (or what they were saying to be honest).

“So they’ll be a little loopy for a while,” one of the dentists said to David, causing him to nod. Ollie had already taken a seat beside you and was holding your hand. The dentist then took David out of the room to talk about how to help clean the wounds and give him a list of foods that Y/n could eat while recovering. Ollie wanted to say something, anything to Y/n but they ended up talking before him.

“Whoever is your significant other is lucky because damn you’re hot,” Y/n chuckled slightly as they fell back against the pillows and smiled sleepily as they looked at him. “They’re like really lucky.”

“Well, you’ll be happy to know that you’re my significant other,” Ollie chuckled with them as he brought their hands up to kiss their knuckles.

“No way!” Y/n said as loud as the gauze in their mouth could allow as their eyes almost fell out of their head. “You’re telling me I bagged you?!”

“You bagged me,” Ollie chuckled in disbelief. He was upset at first that Y/n didn’t tell him sooner, but he couldn’t find it in himself to be mad at them, especially when they said something like that. “If I tell you a word, can you remember it for me?”

“Anything for you, handsome,” Y/n shamelessly flirted as they leaned in a little closer to prop their head against Ollie’s free hand that was resting by their head. 

“The word is ‘pole’,” Ollie said, and Y/n repeated it a couple of times before nodding that they understood it. “Okay, how are you feeling now?”

“I’m feeling tired. I wanna sleep. I wanna eat. I’m hungry. I want someone to tell me what place Ollie is in for the race tomorrow,” Y/n ranted before gasping toward the end, remembering the qualifying session they missed. In the haze, Y/n’s brain never connected that Ollie was sitting in front of them as they went on a rant. “Ollie Bearman is my favorite driver, and I wanna know where he placed. Do you know Ollie?”

“I know of him, yeah,” Ollie said as he bit back a laugh. There was no way he was witnessing this. “I think I know where he placed.”

“Where?” Y/n gasped as they tried to sit up in the bed, but the vitals machine started going off, causing a few personnel to walk in, but Ollie was already pushing them back.

“What was the word from earlier?”

“Pole?” Y/n said confused before it finally connected, “Wait, pole position?”

“Yup, he’s on pole for the feature race,” Ollie smiled at their enthusiasm. “Now, what’s my name?”

“What’s your name? CareBear?”

“Well, yes, but what’s my real name?” 

“Oliver,” Y/n dragged out before the fog cleared enough for them to make the connection. “Wait! Ollie, my CareBear! You’re Ollie!”

“I am,” Ollie chuckled as he leaned over to place a kiss on Y/n’s forehead while the dentists started removing wires and needles from Y/n, so they could leave. Ollie wrapped an arm around their shoulder, knowing Y/n didn’t like needles. He took to whispering reassurance in their ear until they were cleared to leave. Ollie then asked, “You still sleepy?”

Y/n didn’t respond as they were already asleep, so when all of the paperwork was signed, Ollie picked Y/n up to carry them to the car.  The entire ride to the hotel, Y/n was asleep against Ollie’s shoulder until David pulled into the parking spot. That’s when Y/n woke up, stretching their arms above their head.

“I still wanna sleep,” Y/n whined as they leaned back against Ollie. “My legs feel like jelly.”

“I can always carry you again,” Ollie commented already getting out of the car and moving around to help Y/n out. As soon as Y/n stepped out, Ollie’s arm was lifting up their legs to carry them up to their room. Thankfully, David was already leading the way and opening doors for them.

“You’re really working for that Boyfriend Of The Year award, aren't you?” Y/n teased as they plopped their head against Ollie’s shoulder.

“I didn’t know I was in the running,” Ollie joked back as he left a kiss on their nose.

“You’re always in the running,” Y/n pouted before going on another tangent, “Y’know, I’d love to kiss you, but I can’t really feel my lips so I don’t know how that would go.”

“I’ll give you a kiss when you don’t have bloody gauze in your mouth,” Ollie said as he walked up to the door. “Does that sound like a deal?”

“Add some ice cream or smoothies and you’ve got a deal.”

“You can’t drink from a straw, so no smoothies.”

“Buzzkill.”

“Not a buzzkill,” Ollie said simply as he set Y/n down on the bathroom counter, so he could change their gauze. “We’re not risking you getting dry socket.”

“Kissass.”

“How does that make me a kissass?” Ollie chuckled as he helped Y/n down from the counter and to the bed. Ollie fixed the pillows around them to make them comfortable before grabbing an icepack from the freezer. 

“You know the judge of the Boyfriend Of The Year award, and you’re kissing their ass,” Y/n chuckled as they leaned back into the pillows and took the icepacks from Ollie, immediately pressing them against their face. “Let me say, you’re winning.”

“I would hope so,” Ollie retorted, “I should be the only one in the running!”

~~~~~

© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[slasher-fxcker]

Hihi! I was wondering if you can do billy and stu and just the slashers reacting to their someone being hurt at their job and trying to hide it?

A/N: Okay I was going to do this request for multiple slashers, BUUUUUUT I started writing for Billy and Stu and got carried away. I love them too much

Billy & Stu Reacting to their S/O being injured at work.

Warnings: Swearing, mention of blood, brief mention of killing (but I mean this is the slasher fandom so kinda expected lol)

This blog is 18+, Minors do not interact

GIF by casualwriters

You hadn’t been working at the video store for too long but you loved it, your friend Randy had gotten you the job when they were desperate for staff. It was great for the boys too; Billy and Stu would stop by all the time using the place as their personal hang out much to your managers displeasure.

Every Saturday night the boys would swing by and pick some scary movies to watch together after you finished, unfortunately for them you were going to be stuck doing inventory tonight. As usual Billy wasn’t impressed about having to share your time with anyone other than Stu, “Just blow it off what are they going to do fire you?” you rolled your eyes as you continued getting ready. “Yes Billy, probably.”

Stu got up from his spot in front of the tv to try to pull you back to the couch, “Come on babe, do you really think you should be out at night? Don’t you know there’s a killer on the loose?” You try to supress your chuckle as he raises his eyebrows at you, his usual smirk on his face.

You fake innocence putting on your best fear filled voice, “Oh no, what will I do if Mr. Ghostface comes to get me.” Billy laughs one of his rare genuine laughs before Stu steps closer to you placing his hands on your waist, “I could think of a few things.” Smirking as he notices the way you flush at the suggestion. You lightly smack his chest as he laughs at himself once again before you press a chaste kiss to his lips. You grab your bag, blowing a quick kiss to Billy before heading to the door. “I’ll try to get back in time for movie night, but don’t wait up.”

Inventory was fairly boring, you tried to get it done as quickly as possible while Randy spent most of the night showing you his favourite scenes from various movies. Shoving another handful of popcorn into his mouth he continued his rant, “Come on how can you have lived your whole life without watching this movie? Quick you're gonna miss the best part!”

“Randy unlike you I’m actually trying to get this finished before midnight, now are you going to help me or not?” He sighs before finally getting off his ass and heading towards the storage room, 15 minutes go by and he still isn’t back to help. “I swear to god Randy if you're napping on the kart again I’m going to kill you.” You mutter to yourself as you head to the storage room.

You see Randy sitting on the kart going through a box of movies, you try to get a closer look before he sees you. You noticed the box of X rated movies he was looking at. “Randy you perv!” You didn’t realise you had snuck up on him before he jumped up knocking you into the shelves behind you both. Before you could move a box came off the shelf and fell onto you. Your head immediately pounded “Oh shit, Y/N!” Randy hurries to help you up, moving the various tapes that are scattered around to get you back out into the store, sitting up on the counter Randy starts looking over your head. “Oh shit, you're bleeding. Billy’s going to kill me.” You feel him practically prod at your forehead as you hiss in pain and slap his hand away. He helps you clean up the blood and tells you to go home, “Ill finish up here, it’s the least I can do.” You can see how sincere he is when he apologises. Your only worry is how you're going to explain this to the boys.

You decide to head straight home, hopefully the boys will think you just had to stay too late and will leave you be until tomorrow. That way you would at least have time to clean yourself up and come up with a story.

Looking in the mirror the damage is worse than you thought, the red tint on your forehead of smudged blood, the dried blood in your hairline and the bruising that was already beginning to show around the cut that could definitely not be concealed. You sighed as you wet a cloth in the bathroom sink raising it to your head gently, the pain immediately making you wince at the contact.

You raised your hand to try again when you heard something in your room, you looked out the doorway and saw what you could only assume was the boys sneaking in your window. You panicked and slammed the bathroom door closed locking it behind you. You hear the taller of the two call out to you as he knocks on the bathroom door. When you don’t answer he tries to open the door, “Whys the door locked babe?”

“Sorry Stu, I’m not feeling too well.” You try to sound convincing. This time its Billy that answers, “Come out here and tell us what’s wrong.” “Yeah we will look after you.” Stu giggles as you can clearly hear Billy push him away from the door. You feel bad hiding from them, “No its okay, you should probably go home in case I’m uh infectious or something. Yeah.” Your voice wavers and you know you aren’t convincing anyone.

Stu is quiet for once but you hear the edge in Billy’s voice as he speaks, “Y/N don’t lie to us, get out here.” You know they won’t leave, part of you wonders if it would be dramatic to climb out the window at this point. “Don’t make me break the door down.” You would’ve rolled your eyes but you knew he probably wasn’t kidding.

You slowly unlocked the door before slipping out of the bathroom, still not looking at either of them. You try to hide your face but of course they can see it, Stu is at your side immediately trying to make sure you're okay. He gently inspects the cut careful not to touch it. You try to ignore Billy’s stare but you can feel his eyes on you, looking at him for a second regret fills you when you meet his eyes. Billy might be a murderer but everything he does is so calm and thought out, never out of rage. You wouldn’t know that looking at him now, fists clenched at his side as his eyes narrow at you, gaze shifting between your eyes and the cut on your head.

Stu takes you to sit down on the bed, unsure of how to help you. He might be the most caring person when it comes to you but he’s also kinda hopeless. Billy’s gaze doesn’t leave you as you move around the room. Eventually after what felt like endless silence he walks towards you taking your chin in his hand and turning your face to look at the cut better. “Who did this to you?” Any other time Billy’s over protective tendencies would make you feel secure but seeing him like this, eyes dark and glazed over in anger didn’t bring you any comfort.

“No one did this to me.” He cut you off as his grip tightened slightly, “Don’t fucking lie to me. Who did this to you.” You don’t know what to say, you pull your chin out of his grip and sigh, “I was working with Randy and…” Stu seems to pull you closer protectively as Billy raises his voice again. “Randy did this to you?” Billy hated Randy already for so many reasons but this time Stu is the one to speak up, “That little fucker is going to pay,” he stood up and tried to walk away before you grabbed him, “No! I mean please just stay here with me,” you plead him as you pull him into a hug again, you know just how to stop this big softy from making a stupid decision like trying to kill Randy.

“He’s right. You think he gets to hurt you and get away with this.” Calming Billy down was going to be a harder task, “He didn’t hurt me Billy, we were taking inventory and it was an accident.” He scoffed, “He accidentally sliced your head open.” You walk towards Billy and take his face in your hands making him look at you once again, “It was an accident,” he tries to turn his head away but you bring him back to look at you, “And I’m fine now. I promise.”

You watch him as his eyes flicker from your eyes down to your lips, bringing himself closer to you. You reach up to place a kiss on his lips, slightly surprised when he begins to deepen it. His hands wrap around your waist as he starts walking you backwards towards the bed. You know where this is going and as the back of your knees hit the bed frame you break apart smiling up at him as you think you’ve won this one. He gently pushed you back onto Stu’s lap, the kind look gone from his face as he turns to Stu, “Keep her here til I get back.” Stu only seems to nod and Billy starts walking back towards the window, you suddenly realise what’s happening and frantically try to get out of Stu’s embrace.

“Billy no!” you practically yell at him, stopping him half way out the window, “Please Billy, don’t kill him.” He doesn’t respond as he sends you a bone chilling smirk and disappears out of your room.

[fluentmoviequoter]

What I Didn't Know I Had

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!pregnant!wife!reader

Summary: You get shot, and Tim nearly loses something he didn't know he had.

Warnings: angst, r is shot, fluffy comfort and soft Tim at the end

Word Count: 1.7k+ words

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

“I’ll catch up,” you tell Tim.

He nods once and tunes out Lucy as she walks beside him. The bullpen is crowded because of a busy day in Los Angeles, but you have something more important on your mind.

“Angela, can we talk?” you ask as you approach her desk.

“Of course,” she answers. “Is everything okay? Baby okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, we’re good.” You lay your hand over your not yet existent bump and smile. “I’m ready to tell Tim, but I want to surprise him with the pregnancy announcement. He’s not… conventional, right? So, I just wanted to ask if you had any ideas for how I can tell him, how I can make it special?”

“Not conventional is certainly a good description of Tim Bradford,” Angela agrees playfully. “Honestly, you know better than I do what he’d consider to be special. I think you should tell him sooner rather than later.”

You nod and look over your shoulder toward Tim. He deserves a memorable announcement; it’s his first child and he’s going to be an amazing father, so you want to make sure he knows that.

“Blue and pink target practice,” Angela suggests. “Nothing like a gun range jump scare.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Wade yells your name, and you thank Angela before you return to the crowd of police officers. He says your name again before he adds, “Bradford, Nolan, and Chen, we’ve got a domestic call off Wilshire. Take care of that and get back here. ACH!”

“Anything can happen,” Lucy murmurs. “But it’s never fun.”

“ACHBINF,” Nolan agrees.

“Are you okay?” Tim asks as he falls into step beside you.

“Yeah, I’m good. Love this time of year when we have to send two cops to a call and two cops to protect the others,” you reply.

“Hey, what’s it like being married?” Lucy asks as you enter the garage.

“Depends on the marriage,” Nolan answers. “Why? Are you getting married?”

“Not today,” Lucy answers. “Just curious.”

“Nolan’s right,” Tim agrees. “It depends on the marriage.”

“I love being married,” you tell her. “But it’s nothing to rush into.”

“I just want to meet someone,” Lucy groans. “And you guys are no help.”

“Yeah, I married my partner,” you say, winking at Tim.

“And Nolan’s divorced,” Tim points out.

“Okay!” you announce. “Before this gets worse and turns into a competition of who has or had the better marriage – because it’s me and Tim – we need to go.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Lucy agrees. “ACHBINF.”

Tim grunts as he slams the car door, and you smile. As long as that isn’t his response to your pregnancy announcement, you’re amused by his grumpiness.

“There’s nobody here,” Tim says as he looks through a dirty window.

“This is the address. They said they were watching the argument from across the street,” you explain. “So, it’s either a setup or a prank.”

“Bradford!” Nolan calls as he moves out of the yard. “There’s a black SUV moving slowly toward us.”

“Tell dispatch, and get through to Grey,” Tim demands. “Stay down.”

You move with Tim, staying low as you move toward the shop. The black SUV is several houses away, but it only rolls a foot or so before it stops for thirty seconds, then moves again.

“Option 3, someone’s trying to steal a stick shift and can’t drive it,” you joke.

“It’s never that easy,” Tim replies.

“ACHBINF?” you ask.

“Don’t,” Tim murmurs as he watches the car. “We need to make contact before they get close enough to do something.”

“I can go through yards and come up behind them.”

“No, we don’t know what the back looks like. Nolan, where are you and Chen?”

“Behind the shop,” Nolan answers. “On the other side of the street from you.”

“Stay in position,” Tim radios.

A shot fires somewhere nearby, but it echoes so you can’t tell where it originated from.

“The car’s a distraction,” you and Tim say together.

“Backup is two minutes out,” Lucy calls over the radio. “We don’t have time!”

“I’m shooting at the SUV,” Tim tells you. “Cover me.”

You trade places with Tim and press your back to the shop as you cover him. Before you can alert Tim of movement beside the house you were called to, someone fires again. You feel the sting of the bullet against your vest but rise to your knees and return fire. Tim notices your movement and lowers beside you. When the shooter drops his gun and tips back, Tim rushes to him as Lucy and Nolan run to stop the black SUV. You lean back against the shop and run your hand over your uniform. It’s tinted red with blood when you pull it back, and you gently press your fingers against your side. The bullet missed your vest by less than an inch, and your first thought is that the bullet may have gone in sideways.

“No, no, no,” you whisper as you press your hands to your lower stomach.

With the pressure, your bleeding increases with nothing to stop it. Tim rounds the corner of the house with the shooter in handcuffs but pushes him to the ground when he sees you. You’re losing blood quickly, and Tim sees your hands in the wrong place, which immediately concerns him. If you didn’t tell him you were shot and are causing it to bleed more, you must be in shock or hemorrhaging.

“Nolan, get over here!” Tim radios.

He kneels beside you and presses his hands to your side as you try to force a hand under your vest.

“Get me an ambulance!” Tim demands. “Officer down!”

“Tim, I’m pregnant,” you blurt out. “You have to make sure the baby is okay.”

Tim shakes his head and tells you to stay calm. Nolan loads the shooter into the back of his shop and tells Tim the ambulance is approaching.

“Promise you’ll make sure the baby’s okay,” you repeat.

She doesn’t know what she’s talking about, Tim thinks. That thought only increases his worry because you’re losing blood and not making any sense.

“What happened?” the paramedic asks as he approaches your side.

“GSW to her side,” Tim replies.

Your eyes flutter closed as they wrap your side, and you don’t mention ‘the baby’ again. Tim asks the paramedic which hospital you are going to and follows your ambulance in his shop. As he drives, he wonders where the “I’m pregnant” announcement came from. It’s something he wants but hearing it because you were losing blood causes his hands to shake. He reminds himself to focus and control his emotions as he parks and runs into the emergency room entrance.

“Office Bradford?” a doctor asks.

“Yes, sir,” Tim responds as he stands. “How is she?”

“She’s perfectly fine. The bullet was through and through with very little tissue damage, so we cleaned and stitched the wound, and she’ll be free to go after some observation. And the baby is perfectly safe as well, Officer.”

“Baby?” Tim repeats. “She’s pregnant?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I assumed you knew. Yes, sir, she’s about seven weeks pregnant. You can go in if you’d like.”

“Thank you.”

The short walk to your room feels like a marathon, and Tim’s mind races with each step. You should have told Tim; you have a dangerous job, and he needs to know. Tim takes a deep breath before he opens the door and steps into your room.

“You really meant that,” he says.

You look up and tug your bottom lip between your teeth before you release it to speak. “Yeah, I did. I wanted to surprise you, and I was going to do it later today, but… you know.”

“You have to tell me this stuff,” Tim says gently. “I didn’t know. And I- if something had happened, I wouldn’t have known. I’m supposed to keep you safe, but I can’t do that if I don’t know.”

“I’m sorry,” you apologize. “Surprise?”

Tim rolls his eyes as he takes your hand. He lays your joined hands over your stomach, avoiding your stitches.

“I was terrified,” you whisper. “There wasn’t a way to tell where it went, and if I’d lost-“

Tim shushes you gently and sits on the edge of your bed. He moves a hand to your jaw and brushes his thumb over your cheek.

“I get it. The doctor told me the baby was fine, and it suddenly crashed down on me. That fear that I could’ve lost something I didn’t know I had hit me, even after I knew you were both okay.”

You nod and turn your chin. Tim kisses you softly, and you whisper another apology against his lips.

“What do you need?” he asks.

“A hug, mostly,” you say lightly.

“I was hoping you’d say you were ready to get out of here.”

“Oh, we’re both very ready to get out of here,” you agree.

Tim helps you get comfortable on the couch after you arrive home, and you twirl your wedding ring around your finger. He returns a moment later, and when you pull your knees up to give him room to sit beside you, he huffs. Carefully, he lifts your ankles and lays your legs back in your original, comfortable position. Tim lays with you rather than sitting beside you, and you happily turn into his arm. He drags his fingertips along your spine, over your shoulders, and back down. His other hand lays against your side, and he drops his hand to where your baby is growing.

“You’re getting soft,” you murmur.

“Just for you two. And we both need this,” he replies.

“I have an appointment next week, and I want you to be there.”

“I’ll be right here,” he promises. “Can’t trust you to tell me anything important,” he jokes.

You try to push him away, but Tim grabs your wrists and carefully pulls you with him as he rolls. He barely manages to catch both himself and you as he nearly falls off the couch.

“Surprise?” he asks, repeating your earlier comment.

He kisses you before you can say anything else, and when his hands wander to your stomach, you know that you were right about what a great father he will be.

[hippopotamusdreamer]

Office Fuss

genre. small hint of [A] ?, [M] SMUT, [F] at the end, [AU]

warnings. established relationship, swearing, SMUUUUUTT, 18+ MDNI, unprotected sex (p in v), semi-public sex (?), slight breath play, marking, groping, fingering (f rec), biting, spanking, praise, dirty talk, breeding kink, creampie, edging, thigh riding, brief nipple play, begging, hair pulling, Pet names (in no particular order): babe, baby, babygirl, sweetheart, needy girl, good girl, pretty, sweet girl

additional notes. Female! Reader | You/Your pronouns, a few other idols make a brief appearance, I.N as Jeongin and Lee Know as Minho in one part, use of Christopher, this was proof read once so good luck LOL MDNI warning a couple times cause you cant be too safe ya know

pairing. CEO!Bang Chan X reader

w.c. 5.7K

synopsis. You're working, so what does your boyfriend want???

Kpop Masterlist

Fandom Masterlist

You were roused from your sleep by a familiar feeling. Plush lips pressed against your face repeatedly. The familiar heehee of your boyfriend when he caught you trying to hide your smile from him like music to your ears.

“Channie,” you breathed in as you stretched in bed.

“Good morning,” he said into the crook of your neck, leaving a final kiss there.

He pulled back a bit to look at you, the both of you lying in serene silence. You brought your hand up to tangle in the mess of his curls, still a mess from last night’s escapades. Reaching for your hand, he brought it down and placed a tender kiss to your palm.

“Do we really have to go in to work today?” you whined.

He grinned brightly at your reluctance.

“As much as I want you all to myself, we have to. I have a couple meetings scheduled and then I have to draw up an expense report for last week’s business trip.”

“Oh, poor you~,” you teased him.

You yelped out in surprise when his arms suddenly wrapped around you, bringing you closer only to laugh out loud as he began to blow raspberries into your skin.

“Quit! Chan, you’re getting your slobber all over me!” you wriggled about, trying to get out of his hold but it was no use. His steel grip on you did not loosen.

Both of your alarms chose then to go off, the two of you groaning at the electrical intrusion. Pulling apart, you sat up in bed as Chan went to turn off the offending noise. You watch him silently as he maneuvers around your apartment as if he lived there. He stayed over so many times though, he might as well have. And vice versa with you staying at his apartment, even his doorman no longer had to call him up to make sure you were allowed in.

It had a been a reoccurring conversation between the both of you, moving in together. It was a big step in your relationship. You were hesitant but not because of how Chan was. Lord knows he was one of the better relationships you’ve ever had. No, the issue was your landlord having a problem with you leaving your contract early, but you finally managed to come to an agreement this past week.

All that was left was to tell Chan the good news.

You were brought out of your thoughts when Chan released the breath he was holding while stretching.

“There’s also going to be “surprise” inspection in your department after lunch today,” he said, using quotation marks with one hand while pulling up his jeans over his toned legs with the other. It made you snort until his words sank in causing your brows to furrow.

“Inspection? In the graphic design team? Why?”

“I don’t know, I think the CEO just wants to check that his workers are being productive down there.” He said with a smirk.

Matching his smirk with a sarcastic one, you met him as he bent down with a giggle to give you a kiss. Before either of you could get into it any further, his watch beeped on your dresser.

“Ok, I really have to go now if I wanna shower at home.” He said with a hint of sadness that you hadn’t picked up on. “I’ll see you at the office babe, I love you.”

Pulling away, Chan slipped on his shirt from last night but not until after giving you three more kisses goodbye.

“Bye, love you!” You called after him.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

“Hey Y/N, how was your weekend? Did you do anything fun?” your desk mate, Jeon Jungkook, asked as he sat down next to you.

“Nope, nothing exciting. Binge watched yet another murder documentary,” you replied while not looking away from your screen. Though you could already tell he had a disgusted look on his face.

“I don’t understand how you can watch those back to back,” he said wrinkling his nose, all you could do was laugh at his reaction.

It was a secret, your relationship with a certain Bang Chan, current CEO of SKZ Enterprises. If word got around that he was seeing an employee who knows what that would do to your position at the company and they dynamic with everyone you worked with.

The two of you had met during a wild outing one random Saturday night a couple years ago. He was actually doing a body shot off of your friend when your eyes met. And he did not take his off you for the rest of the night. You thought he was the hottest guy in that club at that moment. Had you eye fucking the shit out of him on that bar top as you tried to control yourself.

You blamed your period tracker for saying your ovulation was at its peak that night.

Next thing you knew, you were practically devouring each other in the bathroom stall. Which led to you taking him home and him taking you out for breakfast the morning after. It wasn’t until a building wide assembly where Chan had to give a speech roughly four months into your situationship that either of you found out about the other’s career. Before that you’d only given each other a vague idea of what you each did for a living, so it was pretty surprising for both parties.

You then had a mildly awkward sit down with after that and had a heart to heart. You two tried to break it off leading to roughly a month apart. Emphasis on rough. It was ultimately for nothing since it all came crashing down when Chan showed up to your apartment soaking wet from the pouring rain and another heated night was spent together. From there you both confessed your actual feelings for each other and then promised to keep it hush hush while in the office.

“Y/N-ah,” a voice called behind you, pulling you from your thoughts for the second time that day. Turning around in your chair, you saw your department head, Hwang Hyunjin waving you over.

Heading over to meet him, you could see the way his hands were fidgeting and how his teeth basically mutilated his bottom lip. Raising an eyebrow at his behavior you asked him, “What’s up boss?”

“How are you coming along with the AT.EEZ files?” he asked.

“Oh, I’m almost done. I just have to refine some of the lines and then add the watermark. But it should be good to go before lunch. Why? Everything ok, you don’t look good.”

“That’s great. Wait, I don’t? No, I’m fine. I’m ok. I just got an email from MY team lead…”

He trailed off but you had worked with him long enough to know that he just wanted you to ask about it. If he wasn’t a brilliant artist, you were sure he would have made it big in the world of drama.

“…And what was in the email?” You mustered faux concern, already having an idea on what it contained.

“I can’t tell you,” You waited a beat before he continued. “Ok but you can’t tell anyone yet. I just got word that the head of the company is going to come down here today.”

“Whaaaat,” you blinked more than usual, trying to appear shocked by the news. Bringing your hand up to cover your mouth, you tried your best to shield your smile as much as possible. “What time is he supposed to come down here?”

“After lunch. So are you absolutely positive that you can be done with the files by then? They’re one of our top clients, we can’t let the higher ups have any reason to be breathing down our necks about them.” The wrinkles he gave himself was enough for you to not tease him anymore.

“Yes, I’m sure. You can count on me Hyunjin,” you promised while giving him a little salute. You could see him visibly deflate in relief.

“Ok, ok good. We’ll present your stuff in the meeting room first then. Seulgi, JK, how are the RKIVE drafts?” he questioned, moving past you towards your other co-workers.

With a final nod to yourself, you made your way back to your seat and continued working.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

You worked well until it was time for lunch yet just as you promised, you finished what you needed to. JK wanted to wait for you to go to lunch but you told him to go ahead knowing full well that Jeongin from Accounting would come and find you to go down together.

And just like clockwork, “ Hey Ugly, let’s go.”

“I’m coming Stupid,” was your automatic response.

Your relationship with Yang Jeongin was what people would consider siblings. But if they were the type of siblings that were born too close together and would constantly get on each other’s nerves. Even though you were older than him by a few years, he was able to bring out that twin energy out of you.

The two of you made it downstairs meeting your co-workers Soobin and Beomgyu along the way. Both happy to see you. With them working on the other side of the building, it was nice when you could meet up with them like this.

You thought you had caught a brief glance of your boyfriend but before you could double check, Beomgyu grabbed onto your arm telling you to hurry up, pulling you along with him.

Now, you were sat in the communal cafeteria. In the process of fighting off Jeongin’s chopsticks, which were trying to steal the last piece of meat off your tray, when Soobin distracted you.

“Did you hear that the CEO is going around some of the departments today?”

You looked at Soobin and subsequently lost your last bit of food. Frowning at the brunette, he just continued to chew with a smile much to your dismay. Beomgyu only laughed hysterically, clapping in delight at the scene before him.

“Yeah, I heard about it. Hyunjin was super worried.”

“Heard he’s looking for people to fire,” Jeongin inputted after swallowing your stolen treat.

“He is not,” you said incredulously.

“It could be true! I work in Accounting.”

The three of you just silently stared at him before you reached up to flick him on the forehead. He cried out in pain as he reached for the spot you hit.

“Aht!”

“What the hell does that have to do with anything Stupid?”

“It means,” he quickly got up from his seat startling everyone at the small table. “Shut up, that’s what.” He ended up flicking your forehead back before taking off to the trash cans near the entrance.

“Hey!” you cried after him.

“Mr. Yang, how many times do I have to tell you, no running!” Minho, the Director of Accounting, yelled after his subordinate.

The lunch shenanigans died down quickly with Jeongin’s departure. You, Soobin and Beomgyu conspiring as to the real reason why the head of the company would be checking around the departments. With neither of you coming up with any viable ideas, you had parted at the elevators to return to your respected floors.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

You were currently sat in Conference Room #3 waiting to get the presentation over with. The rest of your small department slowly trickling in. You were next to JK, him raving about what the meeting could be about.

“I’m just saying he could have given us a warning!” His head plastered to the table in front of him. Hands making a mess of his already shaggy hair.

“Then it wouldn’t have been a surprise visit now would it,” you replied immediately to his behavior.

“I’m just saying!” He swiftly lifted his head, you leaning back in your seat to not get hit with the larger man’s limbs.

“Sorry noona,” he said while patting your head.

You waved him off, already used to his antics. Crossing your arms and closing your eyes, you leaned back in your chair, an afternoon nap sounded amazing right about now.

“Like who does he think he is! Making everyone freak out at the last minute, a good boss wouldn’t do that. Don’t you think so noona?” He went quiet, probably waiting for you to respond.

“Oh yeah, can’t stand working for that guy. Hate him sooo much,” you said halfheartedly.

You felt a presence loom over you. So when you didn’t hear a peep from the younger man, you cracked open one of your eyes and came face to face with your boyfriend. Shocked, you almost fell from your chair had Chan not immediately supported you in your seat.

“Cha-Chr-Mr.,” you stuttered.

He was close enough that you were able to see the tick in his jaw.

Oh he was pissed.

“Miss. Y/L/N, follow me,” he got out, voice hard yet face unreadable as he turned back to the door. He paid no mind to the other people in the room.

“But the presentation…,” you uttered weakly.

“Now,” he hadn’t waited for you as he left. Stumbling after him, you caught a glimpse of JK’s worried face.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

You followed Chan as he went to his designated elevator. Being the CEO of the company had its privileges after all. Various workers looking at you in concern as you trailed after the head of the company.

The entire ride up was silent, you weren’t sure if you were supposed say anything or not. And since he wasn’t saying anything, you just followed along. He continued to lead you down to his office once the two of your reached the top floor. His assistant barely casting a glance in either of your directions.

“Han, cancel all my meetings for the rest of the afternoon.”

Han didn’t say anything, just gave a grunt of acknowledgement as he typed away at the computer before him, doing as his boss asked.

As the door shut behind you tried to explain yourself, “Chan, I—”

You didn’t get much out before you were swiftly pinned against the door, Chan’s hand wrapping around your throat. His fingers dug into the soft flesh there, applying pressure as he squeezed, your heart skipping a beat at the very familiar action. Though his grip wasn’t tight enough to cut off your air supply, it was enough to get your insides going fuzzy. He trailed his nose along your chin and up to your ear as he nipped at the soft flesh. His other hand firmly attached to your hip, massaging circles with his thumb since your button-up shifted.

“You hate working for me, baby? Baby, baby, baby…,” his voice gravely and dangerous as he moved his leg in between yours.

“Chan, w-what are you doing, we’re at work,” your eyes fluttered as you tried to move away from his teeth but another squeeze against the sides of your throat stopped you. Instead a quiet sigh fell from your lips as you brought your own hands up to grab at his shirt. Whether to stop him or bring him in closer, you weren’t sure yet.

“I’m not a jealous man Y/N-ah, but twice today I saw other guys have their hands on you.”

“No, they didn’t—”

“You gonna try to lie to me baby?” He questioned with another slight squeeze. You tried not to give him the satisfaction of showing what he was really doing to you. Biting your lip to keep your cool, you took a deep breath.

Then he leant down and bit onto the space between your neck and shoulder gently but firmly, and you were a goner.

“Chan,” you whimpered out as you began to rock gently against his thigh. The hand that had been massaging your hip now guided you back and forth. Heat pooling in your core at the motion. Your mouth opening and closing, wanting a kiss from him. “What if Han hears us?”

“Don’t think you can keep quiet babygirl?” He asked while pulling back from you slightly.

You shook your head no, trying not to pant. “Want a kiss Chan, please?”

“What manners my needy girl has,” he said while giving you a quick peck. The grin on his face was evidence that he knew that wasn’t what you had in mind and he knew it. “Don’t worry, the room’s soundproof. You can be as loud as you want.”

In one motion he had you grinding in a particularly rough fashion and you could feel yourself coming closer to the edge. You could no longer hide your panting from the man.

“S’that feel good baby?” He questioned in your ear.

“Uh huh,” you managed to get out quietly, basically white knuckling his shirt in your fists to bring him closer. “So good baby.”

Then he pulled away and you were left dazed and crying out in confusion. Almost toppling over unsteadily by the door as he made his way to his desk. You shook your head to clear the haze of lust that had made its appearance.

“What the fuck, Chan?”

“Come here baby,” he said leisurely while patting his lap after sitting.

You focused on him as he sat back in his plush desk chair, spreading out and making the space his own. His suit jacket and tie had been discarded on the couch in the room. The sleeves of his white button down were now rolled up and the top couple buttons were now undone leaving his chest and collar bone exposed. His hair tousled from how many times he ran his hands through it the entire day.

On shaky legs, you made your way over.

Swallowing thickly, and with a now slightly clearer head, you understood what was about to go down. You just had to be sure, once more, if it was ok as you took the hand that reached out for you. “Are you sure we should be doing this here?”

He didn’t say anything as he guided you to straddle his lap. His eyes darkened as he looked up at you, gently pushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“We shouldn’t, but fuck if it isn’t tempting,” he gets out with a smirk.

Before you could protest further, he brought you down for a searing kiss. More teeth and tongue than anything. A degrading moan coming from who knows who.

“Wanna take your shirt off for me pretty?” He asked after breaking away.

Staring deep into his eyes, you trailed your hands over your body. Upward to the top button of your work blouse. As much as you tried to portray that you weren’t becoming a mess, the both of you could tell by the way your hands slightly shook. Fumbling with even the first button.

Chan, deciding to give you mercy, helped you with the first two instead. Eventually you did take over unbuttoning the rest as he sat up slightly in his seat. Trailing butterfly kisses along your collar bone, leaving a nibble here and there. A necklace of red marks appearing in his wake as he went.

Pulling the fabric off your shoulders, Chan slowly brought your shirt down to pool to the floor. Exposed chest on display, he reached behind you to unclasp your bra and tossed it to the side as well. With how cold it was in his office, your nipples immediately pebbled soon after being uncovered to the room. As much as you wanted to hide away from his hungry gaze, you knew he’d reprimand you in some way if you did.

“So fucking gorgeous, and for me only,” he said with a possessive growl.

With one hand supporting your lower back, he leant down, taking one of your nipples into his mouth and sucked hard, causing you to groan to the heavens. His tongue swirled around the hardened peak, occasionally pulling it slightly with his teeth. Chan was there for a bit, massaging away at the flesh with his mouth as his free hand latched onto the opposite breast. A wet pop was heard as he released the bud from his mouth and switched tactics with the other one. Giving it just as equal attention as you squirmed in place.

His arms held you close, keeping you flushed against him as he gave your nipple one last lick. Your own arms came up to wrap around him as well, one hand tangling in his hair as the other clutched at his shirt. The hand situated on your back moving down to cup your ass through your skirt, allowing you to finally move on his lap.

Like magnets, your lips connected together again.

“You’re such a good girl for me,” he said through the bruising kiss.

You shivered under his touch and praise, letting yourself fall further into the sensations. His other hand reaching down to rake your skirt up to bunch at your waist. His fingers teased the edge of your underwear before finally slipping underneath. His thick digits sliding through your folds easily with how slick you already were.

“Fuck…you’re so fucking wet baby,” he groaned against your lips, breaking the kiss to trail hot open mouthed kisses down your neck. You heart was pounding in your chest as the blood rushed to your ears.

“Channie,” You mewled out.

“What do you want sweetheart? Huh, use your words.”

This feeling was sinful. Though Chan’s door automatically locked, just the idea that anyone with the code could walk in on the two of you was enough to make you dizzy. You practically felt his cock twitching underneath you, straining against the fabric of his slacks. The way his fingers only brushed against your clit, driving you insane.

“Fi…,” You couldn’t think clearly as he squeezed your ass periodically the way that he knew would torment you.

“Hmm? Don’t you want to be my good girl?”

You nodded at his words immediately.

“My good girl would know how to use her words,” he teased while giving your ass a slap causing you to push forward. His fingers slipping in slightly deeper than before.

“There! Need you there!”

He smiled brightly at your eager form. His dimples popping out more than usual.

“Here?” He teased as your hips ground against his palm, you just knew your juices covered his hand.

And then he drove two of his digits inside. Your mouth falling opened in a silent gasp of pleasure. His mouth mirroring yours as he watched you intently.

“You’re so warm, baby. Is this all for me?”

You nodded in response, too caught up in the moment to respond properly. Your eyes becoming hooded as he curled his fingers just right inside of you. Each upward motion sending jolts of electricity through your entire frame. You couldn’t have pulled him in closer even if you tried.

“Oh goood~,” you finally managed to get out in a desperate cry.

“That’s it sweetheart. You ride my fingers so well, only I know where to touch you, ain’t that right, baby. Show me how much you want it.”

With the two inside you, his thumb moved in a certain way for it to land on your clit making you moan immediately into his neck. Rubbing at the swollen bud, his fingers continued to pump in and out of you.

“God, I can’t wait to feel you wrapped around me. You feel amazing every time. Wish I could stay in here forever baby. I can feel it, just how close you are sweetheart. You’re squeezing down on my fingers so hard.”

Your cries echoed around the room, signaling your growing orgasm. Chan’s smile grew wider, his fingers working relentlessly between your folds, teasing your clit, and probing deep into your aching pussy.

“You love this don’t you baby? Being filled up by my fingers, making a mess of me at work.” He asked mockingly, voice, low and menacing.. “It’s addicting isn’t it? Maybe we should do this all the time. Just have you come up here every day. Let me have my way with you and no one outside of this room would know.”

Your moans grew louder, borderline screaming. A part of you hoping that Chan hadn’t lied about the room being soundproof. After being edged earlier and the slew of filthy words that kept coming from his mouth, it was no wonder you were on the brink of coming undone so fast. It was as if he could read your mind by the way he started to slow his arm motions down.

“Noo, Channie…baby please,” you pleaded with him not to stop, collapsing fully into him. “Fuck…I’m so close babe.”

The feeling of his fingers suddenly coming out of you was just appalling. The empty sensation enough to make you desperate, you needed to be filled with him.

Now.

“Chan pleeeease…I’ve been good. I’ve been so good, please…don’t do this.” You barely managed to cry out into his skin. He didn’t listen, only brought his glistening fingers to his mouth. You stared up at him, gaze still hooded, as he licked and sucked on his own digits. Your own tongue copying what his was doing to himself. The low groan he let out shooting straight to your frenzied core.

He smirked around his fingers as he tasted you on himself. With a final satisfied groan he licked them clean. Watched as you stared back at him, mouth parted. His eyes filled with lust that more than likely mirrored your own. You bit at your lip, body trembling with anticipation.

“I know you have been, my sweet girl. You ready for your reward?” He rubbed himself  through his slacks, visible wet spots in the fabric created by both of your arousals. By now, his cock could have been compared to a steel rod with how hard he’d been this entire time.

“Mmhmm,” Mewling quietly, you nodded. With one hand he brought you in for a deep kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth. The other began to undo his pants, freeing his throbbing cock from its confines. You moaned softly as he teased at your entrance, gliding between your folds before thrusting in without warning. The both of you groaning in ecstasy.

“Fuuuuuck…Christopher…,” his size was one you would never get used to no matter how many times you’ve fucked already

Chan reveled in the feeling that was just you.

It drove him insane just how much he wanted to be deeper inside of you with each thrust that he did. The way you bounced in his lap as he pounded into your tight pussy with a force that should have broken the chair immediately. Your tits bouncy in his face making him loose his mind even more.

“There’s my good girl,” he growled. “I’m gonna give you everything you need. No one else can fuck you this good, baby.”

“No one!” You echoed.

His hands, now holding you, tightened around your hips, holding you steady. The sound of your bodies colliding with each other echoing throughout the room too. His cock slid in and out of your folds with ease, coated in a slick layer of your combined juices.

Without warning, Chan brought his hand down across your ass, the sharp crack of flesh against flesh filling the air. Feeling the sting of his slap, you cried out, your body jolted forward from the impact. But instead of pulling away, you pushed against him, seeking more of that same sting.

“So good baby!” You cried breathlessly.

As he gave your ass another spank, you couldn’t hold back the moan that left your throat. Your backside began to turn pink under his hand.

Neither of you cared.

You could feel Chan’s cock throbbing inside of you. His hand left your ass to tangle inside your hair, tugging at it roughly. The movement caused you to gasp raggedly into the air.

“Gonna fill you up baby, gonna breed this tight little pussy. Make sure no one mistakes who you belong with. You hear me?”

“Yes, yes Christopher! Want you…fill me up…”

He grabbed onto you mid thrust to place you on top of his desk, not even breaking his rhythm. This new position allowed him to reach deeper, his cockhead practically kissing your cervix with every thrust inside.

“Ahh…ahh…ahh..” you gasped out, unable to contain your noises or desire.

“That’s right baby, you love to be filled with my cum don’t you?”

“Y-yeaaaah~”

Chan’s powerful thrusts continued to drive his cock inside your warm folds. You were in haze of bliss, surrendering to the feeling that was Chan.

“Fucking hell…,” he groaned, his voice thick with lust as he pounded into you with reckless abandon. Each thrust brought the two of you closer and closer to the release you so needed. Already he could feel your tight walls clenching around him, milking his cock for everything it was going to give.

“You ready baby?” He asked, the strain in his voice signaling that he was on the brink of losing it.

“Channie!” You choked out as you finally got to come underneath him. Your body trembling as wave after wave of ecstasy wracked your form. Legs locking around your boyfriend to keep him close to you.

“Fuck, I love you!” He yelled; his voice filled with pure ecstasy. His body tensed as his dick throbbed when he came, his cum hot as it painted your walls white. He groaned loudly as his vision went out briefly. He swore, if anyone had asked, he would have said he saw stars behind his eyelids.

He lay there, collapsed in your embrace. The both of you panting, breaths intermingling. He placed little kisses into your skin while you each calmed down from your highs. You trailed your fingers through his hair, feeling awash with serenity.

“I love you too by the way,” you said softly now that you weren’t being fucked out of your mind. You could just feel his smile as he tried to hide into your neck, much like he did earlier that morning.

“Oh no, don’t try to act all shy now!” You playfully chastised, pushing him away slightly to see his face better. “Not after what you literally just did to me.”

All he could do was laugh out loud, eyes disappearing behind his grin. His face becoming red in embarrassment under your hand.

A shuddered groan escaped the both of you as Chan finally pulled his softening dick out of you.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

After allowing yourselves a moment to clean up after the debauched act, you were sat in his desk chair, him in front of you. Your legs on his as he sat crossed legged on the mahogany item.

“Alright babe, spill. What’s wrong?” you asked.

“What’d’you mean? Nothing’s wrong,” he evaded, playing with your legs.

“You did not just pull me out of the department meeting over nothing,” you said with a skeptical look. He avoided your stare, choosing instead to trail invisible lines across your skin.

He’s pouting.

“Channie?” You encouraged.

“…” He did the thing that he typically did when he was thinking about what say. Mouth pursed to the side, eyes moving back and forth unfocused. So you waited until he was ready. “Do you not love me?”

“What!?” Floored is what you were. Especially since you literally just told him you loved him back. But there was a feeling in you that could tell that there was something more to this question. Something that had probably been eating at him if his slumped posture was anything to go by.

“Of course I love you Christopher,” The use of his English name was to solidify just how serious you were. “Why would you think otherwise?”

He tapped your leg as a nervous tick before speaking, “I just…why don’t you wanna move in together?”

Oh. That’s not what you thought he would say.

“This morning I just felt like that’s what it would feel like if we lived in the same place together. That I’d be able to wake up to you by my side, bed head and everything. And my heart just felt so full in that moment.

I understand that you want your independence. It’s one of the many reasons why I love you. But seeing how you are with your co-workers, I don’t know. I guess it scared me in that maybe the reason you don’t want to move in together is cause you’re not sure about us. Which is dumb I know!”

“Oh baby…”

“I know you love me. I know you do, it’s just an insecurity I have to work with,” he continued.

“That’s right, I do love you. So very much Chan. And, for the record, it’s not that I don’t want to move in together. It’s just a matter of affording to break my lease early,” With a smile, you held your hand up to stop him from interrupting you. “Before you start, Mr. Fancypants Rich McGee, no, I don’t want you paying for it. That’s not what our relationship was built on and we’re certainly not gonna start now. I wanted to tell you this this weekend when I go over to your place, but I guess now’s a good time as any, considering. I finally have the amount necessary.”

“Wait…,” the hopeful look in his eyes was so precious to you.

“I can start packing my stuff up to move in with you.”

“Baby!”

Chan quickly climbed down from his sat position, immediately scooping you into his arms. If that didn’t show he was excited, the multitude of kisses was sure another sign of how happy he was at the news. The both of you giggling like you didn’t just have a filthy fuck session in his office.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

As you walked out of Chan’s office, after double and triple checking that you looked decent enough to go back to the meeting room, you realized something immediately. Han Jisung sat red in the face at his desk and was doing everything in his power to avoid looking at the two of you. Which could only mean one thing.

Bang Christopher Chan really did lie about his office being soundproof and his assistant just heard everything that went down.

FUCK!

a/n. This in no way reflects the actual persons involved/based in this fic, nor their actual character. This is purely fiction.

© hippopotamusdreamer, est 2024. all rights reserved.

Taglist:

@elizalabs3

[sorcerersseestars]

LIMERENCE (part I)

Gojo Satoru x gn!reader

"I can't stop loving you, no matter how hard I try."

summary: Your long-time friend stirs feelings inside you that you never realized existed. Of course they bubble up in your chest while he’s in the midst of ignoring you and discovering his own possible romance. Your mutual friend thinks she has it all figured out—or does she?

pairing: gojo satoru x gn! reader

fandom: jujutsu kaisen

genre: hanahaki sickness au, angst, hurt/comfort, drama, slow burn!

warnings: mentions of feeling sick, being stonewalled kinda, usage of the word (Y/N) bc Gojo is too fed up for nicknames (in reality idk what else to use 😶), Gojo being an ass (common theme in my fics oops)

word count: 3.6k

a/n: This is the first part to my hanahaki au! I’ve had this in my drafts for the longest time, but never committed to writing it all out until now. This first bit is kinda slow and maybe confusing BUT hopefully I’ll be able to clear it up next chapter. Not proof read very thoroughly; will probably regret later 🫥

part ii part iii

“DON’T YOU THINK you could be a bit nicer to me?” You try, clasping your hands together as you look up at him with an odd smile—a cross between apologetic and playful. You’re joking, or at least half joking. It’s too difficult to be serious with Gojo; his habit of masking emotion with jest must be rubbing off on you.

Only one corner of his mouth raises. “Good one, (Y/N)-chan. As if I didn’t use to pay your bills.”

He doesn’t look at you when he speaks, and he walks away from you without a single glance. You frown and lightly jog a few steps to catch up to him.

“Ah, and I’m forever thankful for that!” You say, cringing at how overly peppy your tone is. “But that’s not exactly what I meant.”

“Hmm,” Is all he says. His hands are in his pockets, but he doesn’t carry himself with as much ease as usual��his posture is closed off, angular and tense.

“What I meant was–” You prompt your own answer, as he doesn’t make any move to. “We haven’t seen each other in a while. I know you’ve been really busy lately, so I don’t blame you, but I think we should go out and do something. Could help relieve some work stress too, don’t you think so?”

“Maybe,” He says, the word short yet effective in its delivery. The word was sharp in his mouth, clear annoyance shaping his tongue enough for the word to have a bite to it.

You wince. He never used to be like this. Gojo has been in a state of perpetual mirth—and one could argue levity—for the entirety of your friendship, never taking anything seriously and always looking for opportunities to poke fun at you to half-jokingly glorify himself. His expression has always been infectiously positive—never molded into anything hard or serious.

But, lately, everything you thought you knew about Gojo Satoru has faded away into your memories. He never seeks out your presence anymore, which is polar opposite from your high school days, when he would follow you around and pester you until you’d hang out with him. You actually used to get annoyed at this behavior, but you’re sorely missing it now.

You feel like you know nothing about him these days, only hearing tidbits here and there from your mutual friend Shoko. It stings to know that he obviously talks to her, and quite often at that, seeing she always has new details to spill every other day.

It doesn’t make sense to you: him and Shoko were never particularly close, definitely not nearly as close as you and Gojo were. In fact, she thought of him as particularly annoying in high school, and often swore to you that she would cut all contact with him once they graduated.

Back then, you had rolled your eyes at her antics, never believing that anybody could cut Gojo out of their life, seeing as he simply wouldn’t let them. But how else could you describe what he seems to be doing to you?

You bite your lip nervously. “Satoru? Is there something wrong?”

“Not particularly,” He says with a forced smile that’s screaming for you to shut up. You pretend like it’s not the most disingenuous smile you’ve ever seen smeared on his face.

“Are you sure?” You probe. “I mean…what’s been going on with you these days? We haven’t seen each other in forever, and you don’t seem yourself.”

“Are you sure?”

His lips are quirked up, as they perpetually are, but it’s different this time. It’s mocking. A mocking smirk that’s telling you to face reality. Do you really know him anymore?

You pause in your steps, studying his expression. You can’t see his eyes, but you wish you could. He’s hard to read with that blindfold concealing those powerful eyes of his, but it never used to be a problem. It hurts that you’re now struggling to gauge him when your emotions used to feel like one.

Evidently, you can’t answer his question. Not that he seems to care.

“I’ve really got to get going. Students to teach, curses to kill, all that,” He announces, tone low and apathetic. Bored. “See ya.”

Your breath flutters in your throat as you try to bid him goodbye. You choke on your words and only end up tentatively raising a hand. Before you can wave, his form disappears. A gust of wind greets you in lieu of a proper goodbye.

You stay where you are for a few shocked moments, not even registering the hot tears that leak from the eyes he avoided.

You wander aimlessly around campus for a while, the whole interaction replaying in your head several times over. His “Are you sure?” needles its way into your brain even when you push it away, the words hitting where it hurts every time.

Your feet find themselves taking you to an empty break room – ah, this is the one that has your favorite flavor of tea. You turn the kettle on, then eagerly dig through the tea stash. You file through the individual packets quickly and thoroughly, but to no avail. It’s gone.

With a sigh, you grab a random tea bag and throw it into your mug. Frustrated, you roughly begin pouring the now-boiled water into the mug, but it doesn’t seem that was a good idea. Your hand slips for just a split second, but a sizable splash of boiling water still manages to singe your non-dominant hand. A stream of expletives leaves your mouth, and you instantly cradle your hand to your heart.

More tears appear. At least you have an excuse this time—it fucking hurts.

You trudge to the clinic, feeling quite silly, but also seeking some much-needed relief. And you’re not exactly imagining painkillers or an ice pack—no, there’s something else. Someone else.

You hesitantly knock on the door. You feel stupid, but you really have to see her.

You crack a smile at the creak of the door. Your friend and co-worker Shoko strides out with an air of confidence you wish you held.

“What happened?” She asks calmly, eyes lazily taking in your form.

“Spilled some water from the kettle,” You say lamely. “It hurts.”

That doesn’t really constitute a visit to one of the only reverse-cursed technique users in the school, and you know it. So does she.

“Mmhm,” She raises her eyebrows. “Well, come on in.”

You shuffle in a little sheepishly, not able to meet Shoko’s eyes. Now that you’re here, you start to feel unsure about your own motive—do you really want to discuss this? Won’t it just be embarrassing more than anything else?

You stall a little in your steps as the negative thoughts invade your head. You’re startled to attention by a poke to your side—when you look up, Shoko’s playful smirk fills your vision.

“Come on over to the sink and we’ll put that under some cool running water,” She says, gesturing to your reddened arm.

You cock your head, looking between her and the sink skeptically, “No ice?”

She shakes her head, sticking her tongue out at you a bit, “Nope! Running water for burns.”

You hold up your hands in defeat, smiling, “Whatever Doctor Shoko says.”

“And I do,” She says cheekily. “So get under that water!”

“Aye-aye,” You say with a salute.

She groans, “Ugh. You guys are so annoyingly similar. Hang on a sec, I gotta grab something.”

She turns away before she can see the way your expression drops. The smile is stolen from your face, leaving behind saddened eyes and a slight frown. There’s only one possible person she could be talking about.

You sigh and turn on the faucet—your disheartened sigh morphs into one of great relief as the cold water soothes your burn.

“That better?” Shoko asks upon her return.

You nod, a small smile coming back, “Yeah, thanks Shoko.”

“Is there something else wrong?” She asks, then shakes her head. “No, scratch that. What’s actually wrong?”

You take a deep breath. How are you going to broach this subject? You wait several moments, pondering your exact next words.

“Do you think Gojo is okay?” You finally ask your long-time friend, words coming out almost cautiously.

She eyes you funnily, “Why are you asking me? As if he doesn’t chase you around the school to blab on about himself.”

You smile, but it’s tainted by bitterness.

“Shoko…Gojo hasn’t talked to me for two months,” You admit quietly. “I don’t know what’s going on.”

She stops.

“What?”

You hate hearing the confusion in her voice. You hate the pity that soon fills her eyes.

“He seriously hasn’t,” You affirm, sighing. “I don’t know what I did, or if I did anything, or…or what. I just, I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Have you tried talking to him about it?”

You sigh. “Of course I have, but he didn’t seem to take my concerns seriously. Or consider them at all. It just seemed like he wanted me to shut up and leave him alone.”

Shoko looks at you curiously, lips quirking as if she has something to say, but no words come out. Is she holding something back?

You take a deep breath, willing the horrible emotion that squeezes your throat away. You look out the window to distract yourself, watching the branches of a sakura sapling swaying in the wind. It looks alone and lost, battered by the relentless wind.

“What’s he been like recently with you?” You finally ask, your gaze still on the tree.

“Normal,” Shoko says. “Annoying as ever. Noisy as ever.”

A cluster of pink petals is ripped from a branch, swirling hopelessly to the ground. When they settle on the ground, you look back to your friend.

“He’s really the same?” You ask weakly.

“Unfortunately,” She says wryly. “Besides, why do you care? We’ve both been trying to get him off our backs since waaay long ago. Sounds like a blessing in disguise.”

“Ah, that’s true,” You admit with a weak chuckle, trying to ignore the way your heart throbs painfully. “But he’s also our friend.”

“Since when? More like a thorn in my side. Maybe he finally got the message,” Shoko smirks. “You should give me instructions for that. I’d have a lot better quality of life, you know.”

You know she’s just joking around with you, but she’s truly just rubbing salt in your wound. Not very ethical for a doctor, even if unintentional.

“Yeah,” You laugh, but it’s an empty sound. “Well, I guess I’ll get going then. Hopefully your next patient gives you an easier time.”

Shoko jokes, “Yeah, this has been my toughest job all week. You fiend.”

Your head is filled with so many questions, all of them growing louder as you walk away from your friend. Your friend who you thought would sympathize with you, but only ended up making you feel worse in the end is acting suspicious. It’s not like you’ve ever wanted to actually cut ties with Gojo, even when he used to pull pranks on you in high school. You craved for a strong friendship with him throughout all his shenanigans.

Why is Shoko acting like you hate Gojo, and what isn’t she telling you?

Before you reach the door, you decide you need to know. You stop abruptly in your tracks.

“Ieiri, you’re not telling me something,” You say softly, not looking back. “Why?”

Shoko sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose, “You don’t miss anything, do you?”

You say nothing. The door in front of you is tempting—it’s your way out of knowing the truth. Do you really want to know?

You wait tensely for a few seconds, the silence causing nerves to bubble up in your stomach. But when Shoko begins to speak, they go don’t go away.

“He hasn’t really been acting strange around me, but he’s constantly on his phone. Like always. Whenever he comes to chat, he immediately tunes me out and starts texting or loudly takes a call,” She snorts, huffing out an exasperated sigh. “I thought he was just bored and trying to make me feel disrespected as a sort of cruel joke, but I think it’s something else. I think…I think Gojo is interested in someone.”

Your head whips around, disbelief clear in your features. Interested in someone?

“Maybe that’s why he’s been acting weird. I always thought he was crazy for you, so it didn’t cross my mind until now.”

“Crazy for me?” You immediately echo back, voice hollow and confused.

Shoko shakes her head at you, “C’mon, you can’t be that oblivious. He always followed you around like a lost puppy in high school. He never said anything to me about it, but I really thought he would confess any day for years.”

“He did that to everyone…” You shake your head. “You say yourself he bugged you so much.”

She rolls her eyes. “Trust me, it was different.”

Your heart pounds in your chest. Your vision becomes foggy at the edges, reality fizzling out.

“Why didn’t you want to tell me?” You ask. “It’s not like that matters.”

You try to appear uncaring, yet it was a fight to get those words out.

“You’re a sensitive person. ‘Didn’t know how you’d react since Gojo always seemed to chase after your attention, exclusively. But it’s not like it was the other way around—should have known it wasn’t a big deal. It’s not. Guess he’s just growing up.”

“Yeah,” You agree faintly, voice devoid of emotion. Reality is slipping through your numb fingers, the information turning your world into a nightmare. You should have opened the door and ran when you had the chance.

“It’s not,” You say with a saccharine smile, one so sickly sweet that Shoko gets chills. That’s not your usual smile—not one that Shoko has ever seen you wear. “Of course it’s not.”

When you turn on your heel and rush out of her infirmary, Shoko reaches out a hand and her lips part to call after you. It’s uncharacteristic for her—the cold doctor is rarely sentimental or emotionally affected, but she saw something ghastly in that smile of yours.

The slam of the door answers her call. The truth, now imparted, comes to bite her in the ass.

It’s been a few days. You’ve been moping around the school, around your students—trying to cope with the information that you don’t even know is true. You see him across campus sometimes; he’s so easily spotted with his translucent hair and tall frame. Every time, he’s facing away from you, and your eyes fall on the back of his head. Your chest always tightens and you end up turning away, too.

You have ignored the feelings stirring in your chest, not willing to admit something that clearly isn’t reciprocated. It has been working, you suppose, since you haven’t cracked under the mental weight of possibly being in lo—

No, you can’t even think that.

Everything has been as okay as it can. It’s not until you attempt to visit Shoko again to try sort out your feelings, however, that things take a turn for the worse.

Your hand is raised as you prepare to knock on the infirmary door, but you hesitate once you hear muffled voices.

“I don’t know…I didn’t expect it at all.”

That’s Gojo’s voice. That low but self-assured tone is undeniably his.

“Expect what?” Shoko asks, sounding bored.

His reply is so soft that it passes by as just a hiss of air, so quiet that you physically startle at Shoko’s loud reaction.

“No! What? I can’t believe that!” She shouts, laughter quickly following her exclamation.

You shouldn’t be listening—you hadn’t planned to eavesdrop on your two best friends, but for some reason your ear seeks out the wall, as if magnetized.

The next three words uttered still your heart.

“Utahime kissed me,” Gojo admits quietly.

You feel like you can’t breathe. Utahime, who has always despised Gojo even beyond Shoko’s extent. Utahime, who once cried into your chest after Gojo was harsh with her at an exchange event. Utahime, who always persisted that you and Gojo were into each other during high school.

Shoko’s unbelieving chuckle cuts through your thoughts.

Shoko laughs, “Oh, yeah, okay, as if I’d ever believe that.”

There’s silence. Your heart drops at the lack of response—no teasing refute, no playful faux playboy attitude.

Shoko absorbs his unusual silence, finally interpreting his words for what they are.

She gasps loudly, spluttering, “Oh my God, you’re being serious. What?! There’s no way…”

Gojo’s voice is even and deep. “I didn’t lie. She just did it out of nowhere. I didn’t even know how to react, to be honest.”

“So you just stood there?” Shoko snorts, trying to keep up her usual sarcastic persona. “God, you’re insufferable all the way around.”

“I kissed her back,” He breathes out, voice almost weak.

Another long moment of silence ensues. You hold your breath, terrified that your panicked pants will alert them of your presence.

Shoko recovers quickly this time.

“Still insufferable,” She sighs, and you can imagine her shaking her head. “So what now? You like her or something? This is so random.”

“I…I don’t know,” He admits quietly. “I never thought she’d do that, it took me by surprise. I…I think I liked it?”

Your heart shatters. You clutch a hand to your mouth, gagging yourself, forcing back the pained gasp that’s threatening to leave your lips.

“Oh, is that so?” Shoko says drily, but the usual edge to her voice is absent. You can only imagine her expression: contorted with pity and pain, desperately trying to maintain her poker face.

“Yeah,” Gojo reaffirms. “It was nice.”

There’s silence for a few seconds as Shoko takes it all in. Then, “Is she who you’ve always been calling and texting when I’m talking to you? You’re an ass for that, by the way.”

Gojo exhales out a sardonic sniff, “You’re spot on.”

Why are you still listening? You should leave. You shouldn’t be hearing this. Pain blooms in your chest, as if thorns became lodged between your ribs.

“What about (Y/N)?”

You freeze, eyes bulging out of your head.

Gojo sighs, sounding annoyed, “What do you mean?”

“I’m not dumb, Satoru. There was something going on during high school and frankly in the past few years as well. Are you going to deny it?”

He scoffs, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Shoko. It was never like that.”

You feel like you’re going to be sick. You shouldn’t—there’s no possible way you’re actually in love with Gojo Satoru, is there?

Fuck. The thought you’ve been trying to avoid all this time has finally firmly inserted itself into your head.

You take off swiftly and immediately, and your footfalls are as light as you can possibly manage. If either of them knew you were here, you wouldn’t be able to handle the shame.

Gojo and Shoko are none the wiser to the immoral action that took place just beyond the door—so when Shoko is ready to clock out and opens the door, the presence of a school ID on the ground is nearly missed. She feels something strange crunch underneath her foot and steps away and glances at the foreign object.

You left in such a hurry that your ID flopped out of your pocket. It lays on the ground, your smiling face staring up at Shoko, who looks on in horror. She immediately knows that you heard everything. She quickly steps back onto your ID, concealing your identity with her foot.

With all the sight of his six eyes, Gojo somehow completely missed Shoko’s strategic maneuvers to erase traces of your presence. He whistles nonchalantly, not having a care in the world, apparently.

In contrast, Shoko’s mind is racing. Her eyes roam around the courtyard, searching for your form. She feels rooted to the spot—will she reveal you if she steps away? She almost forgets that she’s not alone.

“You looking for someone?” Gojo asks.

Shoko stiffens, but forces herself to relax and appear nonchalant. “Ah, I was just wondering if…if (Y/N) would still be around.”

Gojo frowns. “Hm. Not sure. Don’t they usually go home right after they get off?”

“Lately, they’ve been staying back to do paperwork,” She sighs. “Masamichi has really giving them too many missions…How come you don’t know that?”

“Haven’t had the chance to catch up, I guess,” Gojo says evasively, then quickly changes the subject. “Besides, aren’t you the same way? You coming or not? I’ve got better things to do.”

He waves his cell phone around playfully, a smirk widening across his features.

Shoko rolls her eyes, “Go ahead. I’m just going to wait here a bit and see if I can text them and get them over here.”

She hesitates for a second before adding, “Actually, why don’t you wait a sec? We haven’t all seen each other in a bit.”

Gojo immediately stiffens. He scratches the back of his head and says, “Ah, I’m actually sort of on a time crunch. Maybe next time.”

What a lie. Shoko thinks, eyes narrowing subconsciously. What is he up to?

As he trails off into the distance, the gears in Shoko’s head continue to turn. He always, always teleports home after work finishes. So why is he slowly walking around campus, head turning this way and that way as if searching?

And you! Why were you there? Why were you so affected? What is going on in your head—or rather, your heart?

Something strange is going on with her two friends and Shoko is determined to find out what.

next part

credit 🩷:

@kiyaedits - baby pink dividers, @sweetxmelody - cherry blossom divider

*note: taglist open!! comment to be tagged in part 2 :)

[bullet-prooflove]

Check In: Leroy Jethro Gibbs x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @riley-kore @ilovemark1951 @love-affair-with-fandoms @mishkatelwarriorgoddess

Companion piece to:

The Ice Queen - Gibbs meets The Ice Queen for the first time.

Break The Ice - A act of decency helps Gibbs to break the ice.

Umbrella - Gibbs gets more than he bargained for when he offers you his umbrella.

Grave - You and Gibbs bump into each other in an unexpected place.

Safe - You and Gibbs work through your grief in different wa

After the pager message the night before Gibbs makes the point of seeking you out the next day. He tries to be covert about it, pretending he’s picking up some files for Franks but you see through it the instant he steps into your workspace.

“I’m fine Gibbs.” You state as you continue to write down your notes on the clipboard clasped between your hands. The autopsy you’ve recently completed has been tidied away but the instruments are there, glistening in the light, waiting to be cleaned.

His cursory overview of you indicates that you are fine after last night’s activities. There’s no bruises that he can see, no change to your affect. The tension in your shoulders is now absent, your mood improved. He might be concerned about the method in which you defuse your frustration but he can’t refute it.

“I just wanted to make sure.” He tells you, his palm rubbing over the nape of his neck. “You’re one of the few people I’d count as a friend-”

“And it wouldn’t do if I’d ended up murdered by one of the men I’d taken home.” You remark, your gaze flickering up to meet his. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

What he’s come to understand during the time the two of you have spent together is that no one has worried about you for a long time, not since your sister died. Your parents are long gone, killed an accident during medical school and your friends had drifted away after Violet’s death because they didn’t understand your grief, the emotions that come with it.

“But I do.” He tells you, maintaining eye contact. “And that doesn’t stop when I go home at night.”

You look away then, hugging the clipboard to your chest as if it were a barrier between the two of you. You don’t let people get close, you don’t let them care for you. It’s a lonely existence, one that he understands acutely.

“I don’t need that from you.” You tell him.

And he reads the message loud and clear. You don’t need that from anyone. It’s a defensive response because things are changing in your life, the Thursday night catch ups, the walking you home, his concern about your safety, you aren’t used to those things. So you react like this, with cynicism because you’ve been taught that everything comes with an ulterior motive.

“I know you don’t need it.” He tells you, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “But it’s kind of a prerequisite when you care about somebody, when you spend time with them, tell them your secrets.”

You don’t know how to process that, he can tell from the way your grip tightens on the clipboard. He understands that he’s being too much right now, that this is overwhelming for you so he retreats because the last thing he wants is to make you feel uncomfortable.

“Look I just wanted to check in on you.” He says quietly. “That’s all and now that I can see you’re ok, I’ll just go about my day, completing paperwork and ignoring the printer.”

He turns towards the door, pausing as he hears his name leave your lips like a sigh.

“Jethro…” You say and he tilts his head towards you with an inquiring look. “Maybe we make that a thing, me paging you after I take someone home.”

He knows that you’re thinking about what happened to your sister. The type of crime, the horror of it. She did everything right and she still ended up brutalised. With your risk taking behaviour, the odds of something similar or worse happening to you increase exponentially. He understands that right now, that’s not something you can stop and he would never ask you to but you can put measures in place, fail safes as it were.

“Call, page, carrier pigeon, whatever it is I don’t care.” He says finally. “Just know if you need me I’m there, anytime, day or night.”

Love Gibbs? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

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[zapreportsblog]

❝HUSBAND❞

✭ PAIRING : Edward Cullen x Reader

✭ FANDOM : Twilight

✭ SUMMARY : When Edward proposed to Bella he expected her to accept after all they were mates? Right? Wrong! Bella rejected edwards proposal breaking his undead heart in the process, not being able to withstand the aftermath Edward leaves home; only to return 2 years later but this time he’s married?!

✭ AUTHORS NOTE : I already know there is a story on here called the same story with the same cover (on quotev at least) mines had been edited to a clearer form, (again on quotev) that was my old account, (marveluserlovesmarbel again on quotev was my old and very first account) one of my first actually. If I can remember the login information from it I’d log back in and post my stories from their over here but for now enjoy the remake of said story :)

✭ QUOTEV VERSION

✭ HUSBAND MASTERLIST

✭ CHAPTER THREE : The Storm

Tension filled the air as Bella confronted the newfound presence of (Y/n) in Edward's life. She blinked in disbelief, her voice quivering as she stammered, "My love? Since when did this happen?"

Edward, sensing the impending storm, attempted to walk away with (Y/n) and even gestured for her to go inside. But (Y/n) was resolute and didn't budge. She glared at Bella, her voice dripping with ice, as she asked, "Who are you?"

Bella retorted, her tone growing defensive, "I'm Edward's girlfriend, and who are you?"

(Y/n) didn't waste a moment, showing off her ring with a fiery glare. "I'm his wife."

Bella's eyes widened in shock at the revelation. The words hung heavily in the air, and she was momentarily at a loss for words. She looked to Edward for help, but he maintained a blank expression.

Sensing Bella's vulnerability, (Y/n) couldn't contain her anger any longer. She stepped forward, poking Bella's chest with each word, her voice seething with righteous fury. "You've got some nerve showing your face around here. You made your grave; now lay in it."

Without waiting for a response, (Y/n) turned away from Bella and walked over to her husband, Edward. She looked deep into his eyes, her love and passion evident, and then, she pulled him into a long, passionate kiss. It was a declaration of their bond and a clear message to Bella that she was no longer a part of Edward's life. Bella watched them with a mixture of jealousy and regret, realizing that she had lost Edward. But she wasn’t one to give up easily. With a huff she yanks over her car door looking back at the couple, “I’ll be back later Edward,” and with a slam of the door she pulls out of the Cullen’s drive way.

Emmett the ever so innocent “viewer” in all this snorts, “Women am I right?!”

┉

Inside the house, (Y/n) had stormed in, seething with anger and frustration. She couldn't believe that Bella had shown up and disrupted the peace she and Edward had found together. She muttered to herself, unaware of the growing intensity of her emotions.

"How could that wench come here and think all would be fine and dandy?" (Y/n) ranted, her voice filled with exasperation.

Unbeknownst to her, the lights in the house began to flicker erratically. The others in the room exchanged puzzled glances, noticing the unusual phenomenon. Emmett, always one to comment on such things, blurted out, "Yo, what's up with the lights?"

Edward, realizing that it was (Y/n)'s powers reacting to her emotional turmoil, excused himself and made his way to where she was venting her frustrations. He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and whispered soothing words, "Love, it's going to be okay. Please, try to calm down. Your powers are reacting to your emotions."

(Y/n) took a deep breath, her anger gradually subsiding as she focused on Edward's calming presence. The lights in the house gradually steadied, no longer flickering. She turned to him, her eyes filled with remorse for causing such a disturbance.

Edward reassured her, "It's alright, my love. We'll figure this out together. Bella is no longer a part of my life, and you are the one I choose to be with. I love you."

(Y/n) nodded, her anger giving way to a sense of relief and the warmth of Edward's love. They held each other close, finding solace in their bond, and slowly the tension in the house began to dissipate.

As Edward held (Y/n) close against his chest, her anger continued to simmer. She mumbled softly, her voice filled with frustration, "I just don't like it. How can she come back here thinking she would be welcomed with open arms? After hurting you? After unknowingly hurting your family?"

Edward kissed her forehead gently, trying to offer reassurance. "It's okay, my love. We'll work through this."

But (Y/n) couldn't contain her anger any longer. Her emotions surged, and as she shouted in frustration, a light bulb above them suddenly burst, scattering glass fragments on the floor.

Startled by the sudden noise, Alice, who had been observing the situation from the doorway, took a step back. She glanced at the shattered light bulb and then at the two of them, her eyes wide with surprise. With an uncertain smile, she said, "I'll just come back later," and quickly walked away, leaving Edward and (Y/n) alone to deal with the aftermath of this emotional exchange.

As (Y/n) pulled back from their embrace, her guilt about scaring Alice was evident in her eyes. She whispered, "Oh no, I scared Alice. I have to go apologize."

Edward gently placed a hand on her shoulder to stop her. "No, what you need to do is calm down, love. Alice will be fine. She's a vampire, remember?"

(Y/n) wasn't easily consoled. She replied, "That doesn't mean I didn't frighten her, supernatural being or not."

Edward couldn't help but chuckle, his laughter resonating in the room. "That's what I love about you, my dear."

(Y/n) playfully smacked his shoulder, her worry still evident. "This isn't a laughing matter, Edward. I used my powers unconsciously, and look, I even broke that poor, innocent light bulb."

Edward continued to chuckle, the sound of his laughter filling the room. "You're right, love, but it's just a light bulb. We can replace it. Besides, I’m sure Alice will understand.”

(Y/n) sighed, unable to resist a smile at her husband's laughter and reassurance. She realized that even in moments of turmoil, his presence had a way of calming her, and she felt grateful for the love they shared.

[joeloverture]

comeuppance | qz!j.m. x f!reader

masterlist | notifs blog

pairing: qz!joel miller x f!reader summary: [post outbreak] when your recklessness causes an arms deal to go south, joel makes sure you regret it. warnings: (18+ mdni) qz!joel, age gap (late 20s/early 50s), written with hbo!joel in mind but with game!joel lore, guns, mentioned executions, misogynistic names outside (and in!) a sexual context, canon-typical violence as in murder (joel kills a soldier 'on-screen'), reader is a little shit but joel is worse, darkish & dubcon, spanking as a punishment, gunplay, attempted boot humping, degradation, humiliation, one kick to the cunt, mean!joel, orgasm denial [no use of y/n] word count: 2.7k a/n: this is my (admittedly late) submission for @iamasaddie's writing challenge 2.0! my prompt was 'you can't hide forever'. the genre was technically dark but joel himself isn't scarily dark here. thank you so much to aly for, once again, bringing this fandom together with her challenges. it's a steep task but she does a great job every time! and even more thanks to @joelsdagger and @lovesickonmybed for helping me brainstorm! (i have half of a brain without my wonderfully creative friends).

It only takes one deal gone south to fuck everything up.

You know the compass is already ticking that way the moment you and Joel, your longtime smuggling partner, enter the abandoned warehouse. Much like everything else in the Boston QZ, it’s falling apart. The corrugated metal walls are pitted with rust, and old blood is caked all over the floors. In another life, it might’ve been a slaughterhouse, but there’s no real way of knowing. It’s been long enough that any signage has deteriorated. The building’s state of decay, however, isn’t what messes things up.

It’s the singular man that walks in from the opposite side of the atrium.

FEDRA’s favorite executioner. Slitted eyes far apart, thinned out lips, and graying black hair. Rarely seen away from the gallows, only recognizable to you from all of the nightmares you’ve had of his face being the last you see.

If it were drugs, you’d think nothing of it. FEDRA soldiers buy quietly from you all of the time – but they have no need for guns that they don’t already have.

Joel steps forward, merchandise in the duffel bag over his shoulder, none the wiser. A knot ties itself in the base of your throat. You’re too busy trying to figure out what to do, what to do, what to do that you barely even realize that the soldier has a gun aimed right between your eyes until you’re looking right down the barrel.

Your hand jerks to your holster, drawing your pistol in one swipe.

“Drop your fucking gun!” he barks in your direction. It clatters out of your hands. “Don’t you dare fucking move.” Your hands fly up as you take a step back, nearly stumbling into a nearby crate. “Joel Miller and his bitch,” the man sneers. “What a lucky find. You two have quite the bounty on your heads.”

“Don’t do anything stupid,” Joel says, face completely blank.

“Easy for you to say,” the guard says with a nagging smirk. “Your little cunt here already did. Pretty fucking dumb not to check who you’re selling your merchandise to, huh?”

Joel tenses, ultimately huffing through his nose. “Can we get this over with?”

“I’ll make it easy, Miller. Come with me alive so I get paid, or come with me dead so I still get paid.”

Joel’s fingers twitch behind his back, and after almost three years of working with him, it’s impossible not to pick up on the subtext. Keep him busy. His hand is already reaching for the revolver in his back pocket.

“Turn the other way. I can make this worth your time,” you say. “But you’re lucky if those sons of bitches you work for even offer you half the reward they’ve posted for us. Dragging the bodies from Area 5 to the closest checkpoint… you’d have your work cut out for you.”

“Yeah fucking right,” he spits. “You two have been running around free for too damn long. Causing too much trouble. Not anymo–”

The man’s mouth freezes around the words by the time the bullet soars throat the canvas fabric of Joel’s duffel bag and through the man’s jugular. The soldier’s hands claw for his throat while he gargles on the blood as he begins the descent to the ground. New blood, still pumping directionless from the split artery, joins the old.

Much like him, where he’s slumping against the ground, chest moving until the very end, your hands clutch at your own throat. “We need to go,” you say, knowing the rest of FEDRA will come looking for the firefight at any second now. Joel doesn’t move. “Joel!” You reach out to tug his sleeve, but he doesn’t react. “Jesus– move!”

Joel turns to face you, gun still hanging from his hand. His fingers flex around the grip. “What the hell were you thinkin’, little girl?” You can hear his breathing, amplified from how close he is to you. His once inexpressive face is now red, lips curled, skin tight like a crushed soda can. 

“I– what?”

“Not vettin’ your buyers. First fuckin’ thing I told you all them years ago, wasn’t it? Gotta check so you don’t sell shit to the wrong guy, yeah?” He stalks closer to you – you stumble back.

Not vetting the now dead executioner, whose blood is currently creeping up to the soles of your boots. Your mistake, yes, a potentially catastrophic one that you’ll definitely never make again after this, but he’d been on your ass about finding buyers and after an entire day of burning bodies, the last thing you wanted to do was go asking around about the ‘John’ in search of guns that you’d talked to over the radio tower.

“We’re alive, aren’t we?”

Joel finally jerks his sleeve away from your grip. Your hand falls slack by your side, burning from his fire stoker touch. “And you oughta count your fuckin’ blessings for that. Dumbfuck of a girl, gonna get me killed,” he spits. Spittle flies across your neck. 

You flinch – and not because you’re scared. You’ve never seen him like this before. You hear noise in the distance, the moving of FEDRA trucks, no doubt. “Joel! We can do this later – we need to fucking go–”

“Then you better start running,” he says gruffly.

You don’t need to be told twice.

You sprint out of the atrium, cursing as your bloodied soles carve tracks behind you. A stack of crates blocks the door, which you vault over and shimmy your way through the broken glass panel. The hallway ahead of you is dark, and you have no idea where the fuck you’re going, only that you can’t stop. Each impact of your foot on the ground is like being struck by lightning, carbonating the racing blood pumping through your body. More glass crunches behind you, and a shock of terror pierces you when you hear Joel’s snarls filling the corridor.

There’s a metal cart in your way, which you send whirling in Joel’s direction. He grunts, presumably hitting him in the stomach before it goes clattering on the ground. You make the most of the diversion, hurtling forward and lurching through a cracked door.

Dead fucking end.

An office, by the looks of it. Desks all over the place, leftover tasks still pinned on cork boards from outbreak day, chairs on their sides. You hear Joel huffing and puffing behind you, and fear forks through you. You fall to your hands and knees, crawling underneath the labyrinth of desks and tucking yourself against a wall, carpet-burned hand to your mouth to muffle your breathing. Your chest avalanches with every single breath.

“You ain’t off the hook,” Joel says, voice getting closer with every word. You can hear the thump of his boots against the carpet. See the spread of his shadow roaming across the wall. You squint through the seam of two desks. He's looking over his shoulder when you haul yourself across the room to the next closest desk.

You look around for anything that might get you out of this long enough to slip back out of the door. If you can make it back to the apartment, maybe he can cool off on his own walk back. You reach up for a stapler and take a brief second to peek over a filing cabinet before flinging it against the wall. It snaps open, spilling decades old staples all over the floor.

“Only a clicker’s fallin’ for that,” he tuts at you. His boots land on the floor again, one, two, three steps closer to you. You wince, balling your hands into fists. 

All you can hear is the thrashing of your own heart. You scooch away from the desk – maybe if you throw something small at him, like a pack of sticky notes, it’ll be enough to abduct his attention long enough for you to slip by–

“You can’t hide forever,” Joel goddamn coos at you. You see him bending at the waist, scoping out the undersides of desks, seeking you out–

You crawl out from under the desk and book it to the door.

Stupid. Fucking. Idea.

Joel hauls you back by the belt loop, laughing as you cry out. You try squirming away, kicking at him, but his other arm wraps around your torso. It hits you then that you have no idea what he might do to you. You’ve trusted him with your life before, but what would he do when you risked his? You’d always been too scared to find out. He spins you, slamming you over the desk. You cry out as your chest meets the wood. His hand drags your wrists together, pinning them at the small of your back.

“Let me – the fuck– go!” you yell at him, trying to bend your elbow at the right angle to nail him in the chest.

He tightens his grip so much that you can barely move an inch. “Made your fuckin’ bed, gotta lie in it, sweetheart,” he tuts, shaking his head at you. His hand grazes over your ass, and you stiffen as he looms over you. He is just a man. Your mind spins to the worst-case scenario. No, no, no, no–

“How about an… old-fashioned corporal punishment to set ya straight?” Within the next second, he’s yanking your jeans down your thighs.

Oh. Oh fuck.

“Joel–” you exhale, breath shuddery. “Knock it off–”

“No panties? I was gonna be nice and spank ya over them…” Joel frowns at you. “Poor baby. ‘S gonna sting real bad.”

You snap at him, “What, you want me to go to the local QZ Victoria’s Secret?”

Joel swats, hard, across your asscheek.

You’ve seen how intense Joel’s brute strength can be. You’ve just never been on the receiving end of it. A cry pushes out of your throat, and you hunch over the desk as you struggle helplessly against Joel. Tears spring at your eyes.

Mercifully, Joel runs his calloused palm over the smarting skin. “Shh, shh, shh, shh. ‘S okay, Jus’ gotta teach ya a lesson. Make sure it sticks.” He strokes the nape of your neck as you whimper into the desk.

You tense up in preparation for the second hit, but, if anything, it just makes the impact worse. It prickles your other cheek, leaving your knees shaky. And God help you, your clit twitches. Twitches. Your thighs are already heating up, and you can’t help but squirm in a good way underneath Joel. A single tear slips over your waterline, and you have to tilt your head into the shoulder of your shirt to wipe it off. You don’t want him to see you weak – not that weak.

The next spank makes him grunt from how hard he swings his palm into your backside. “Joel!” you shout, pain nearly splitting you in two. Your feet raise off of the ground as you prop yourself up on the desk, kicking uselessly at his shins. All he does is chuckle at you.

Horror sinks like a cinderblock in your stomach when you realize that your hole, leaking slick, is practically fucking winking at him. You thank the darkness. It’s about the only good thing about this place.

“You don’t like that?” he mock-pouts at you. It’s enough to make you throb. The opposite, you’d say if you could.

A series of spanks follows, but at least these are lighter, and in rapid succession. Still, you jerk with each impact, squirming so that your fingers dance in his grip. “Stupid little girl. Thought you could sell our shit to a FEDRA bitch and get off scot-free? Really thought you could get away from me, huh?”

You try clamming up, desperately attempting to close your legs together. You squeeze your thighs together, relieved at the pressure – and then you hear a resounding click behind you.

You still.

Joel’s gun, still fucking hot from the bullet it’d fired right into the executioner’s throat, traces up the small of your back… all the way to your throat. “Could put one right here,” Joel whispers, more to himself than you. “Show ya what happens to girls that don’t follow orders.” He jams it into your skin, and you hiss at the pain, at the bruise it’s sure to leave. And in spite of it all, you fucking gush. God, you’re fucked up.

He wouldn’t kill you – he needs you more than you need him. But common sense isn’t enough to prevent the thrill, the arousal smiting your body from head to toe.

“I’ll reconsider if ya give it a kiss.” He nudges the barrel carefully against your lips and you stop breathing for a second, maybe two. “Go on. Give it some lovin’. Suck it like a cock. I know you’re good at it. Hear all the guys you bring over.”

You whimper at the thought of Joel listening to you getting your hook ups off – at the thought of him fisting his own cock while he listens. Obediently, you part your lips, slowly, ever so slowly, taking the gun down your throat. It fills your mouth up in such a strange way – all hard edges. It’d be freezing cold if not for the fact that it’s a weapon of death, a scythe in its own way. One press of the trigger, and you’d be just like the guard. You suck even harder at it, eyes rolling back in your skull. Your thighs twitch, stripes of slick running down your thighs. 

Joel reaches between your legs, grabbing at the meat of your inner thigh to spread you open. Instead, he gets a handful of the arousal that’s been pooling between your legs since he first bent you over the desk.

You freeze, pausing your ministrations on the pistol. He himself freezes before he drags his hips over your folds. His finger pads hover over your swollen clit before he properly rubs you once, and then twice. Your hips cant into the closest thing – his hand.

Joel makes a disgusted noise and swats your leaking pussy before shoving you forward and stepping back. You’re panting, properly fucked out even though he’d barely touched you. Cross-eyed, tongue hanging out, face hot. He looks you up and down, brows furrowing with revulsion. “Horny fuckin’ bitch. Creamin’ all over me. That long since you got action that a spankin’ and a gun in your mouth is all it takes to get you riled up? Pathetic.” He shoves the gun back in his pocket, still shining with your saliva.

He wipes your wetness all over your leg, grabs the back of your collar, and drags you to the floor in one foul swoop. You fall on your hands and knees again, ass still stinging from his treatment, lightheaded from how needy you are. Even his brutal treatment makes you whimper. 

You reach for his calf, pulling yourself up to brace your dripping cunt against his boot. You rut against it, not even fully cognizant of your movements as you roll your hips, praying that he lets you have this if nothing else. Your orgasm, wetting his boot thoroughly. Your scent, clinging to him on the walk back to the apartment. You buck into the boot, moaning as the toe bumps against your clit. It might be enough, if you could just do it one more time–

Joel tears his shoe out from underneath you, face pinched with aversion. “No!” you cry, still grabbing for his calf. You fall onto your back, legs spread and panting. Your ass needles from his spanking. The ceiling tiles spin above you. 

The same toe you’d been humping kicks into your cunt, and you yelp, curling in on yourself. Another tear slides down your burning cheek as you reach down to cup your sore pussy. Even that pressure feels like touching a live wire. 

Joel looks down at his shining boot and makes a disgusted noise. “Does humiliatin’ yourself always get ya dicked down?” 

He turns around, already walking away from you without a care in the world. The gun grip pokes out of his pocket, taunting you.

“Pull your goddamn pants up and get a move on. Curfew’s soon.”

[nickfowlerrr]

always.

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

warnings: angst (with a happy ending bc duh, it’s me). fluff. uh i think that’s all but if something important needs to be mentioned here, pls lmk!

words: 3.5k

notes: REPOST. this was not at all what i intended to write when i first got my aesthetic photo inspo but here we are lol. this is my fic submission for @pupandkisasaesthetics’ challenge and i hope you enjoy it. and a special thank you to @fandoms-writings for reading over the first draft of this for me and helping me out! i appreciate you so much, remi!! 🥰

thank you in advance for reading and as always, comments and reblogs are more than welcome and so appreciated! please let me know what you think. 🖤

The floorboards creak under your feet with every step you take. Your eyes are red and your cheeks puffy. You ran out of tears a while ago. Your head throbs still, the headache lingering from the stress, and as you catch a glance of yourself in the mirror hung on the wall of the safe house, you know you look as dead as you feel.

You’re numb and yet your insides are aching, screaming at you.

That wasn’t it. He isn’t gone. It isn’t over.

It can’t be over.

As you pace the empty living room, back and forth, nonstop as you had been since you got back to the safehouse hours ago, the only thing you can do is torture yourself by replaying in your mind each and every step you took and every single word that left your mouth leading up to the explosion.

The explosion.

The deafening boom.

The ringing in your ears.

The shaking of the ground beneath you and of the walls around you.

The gripping fear when you realized where the bomb emanated from.

The neverending silence over static as you tried uselessly to get through to him.

The strong grip on your arm that pulled you from your stupor, that same strong hold that kept you from heading straight to where he was.

Your throat was sore from your yelling. From the cries you couldn’t hold back as you found yourself being urged into the jeep as they started back to safety. Just leaving him.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the window as you raged.

But you couldn’t focus on the cruelty of the words you threw at the team, your supposed family, in your attempt to get them to stop. To do their jobs. To save him.

No.

Instead, the loop started right back over.

Walking into the base with Yelena at your side, Bucky in your ear with Sam on his six on the opposite end of the site.

It wasn’t meant to be dangerous. Not more than the usual. Just a simple search and clear of the abandoned base. You’d all done this a hundred times over.

You’d meet in the middle and give the go ahead when you were done.

But that didn’t happen.

You were smirking as you heard Bucky and Sam’s never ending back and forths over the comms as you and Yelena cleared out the east wing of the site.

“East wing clear, heading south. You two plan on doing your job or should we take out the west wing for you, too?” you joked lightly as you made your way down the long winding hall.

“Ya know I’d feel a lot better having you on my six than this stupid fucking robotic bird flying around my head,” Bucky groused.

“Yeah,” you laughed as your eyes scanned yet another empty old computer room, “well give me a minute and I’ll be right there to save you,” you simpered playfully.

“West wing clear and secured, heading south now. Think I’ll get to you first, but I-”

His voice was cut off simultaneously by the static and the boom of the unexpected explosion going off. You and Yelena both ducked, protecting your heads as the ground shook and a wave of vibrations from the blast moved around you. You popped your ear as you tried to orient yourself through the ringing, slowly standing after everything else went still. Your breaths heavy as confusion clouded you both. You checked each other, ensuring you were both alright before your heart skipped a beat. Yelena was talking on her comms with Steve as you were pressing on your own, you tried to communicate with Bucky despite the static still ringing over..

“Buck, you okay?”

Nothing.

“Bucky?” you asked again, growing more frantic internally though you tried to remain as collected as you could.

Still no response.

Your eyes shot to the hall across from you leading to the west wing. To where the explosion came from. To Bucky. You were frozen still.

You pressed on the comms, over and over, trying desperately to get through to him.

“Bucky?”

Silence.

“Buck, can you hear me?... Bucky? James?!” your voice only grew louder and more harsh the longer the silence stretched on. It was like you were stone, you couldn’t manage to move, couldn’t do anything other than try to call him. You hadn’t noticed when Steve and the others came in until Steve took hold of your arm, his touch pulling you from your spot.

You looked to him, eyes wide and blown, feeling like you’d just been kicked back into your physical body.

“What are we doing?” you asked harshly. “What am I doing?” you said, frenzied before you turned and tried to make a move down the hall no one else seemed to be heading toward. His hold on you tightened, keeping you from going, stopping you easily.

“You need to go, we have to get you guys out of here,” Steve said sternly, concern swimming in his gaze despite his levelheaded presence.

“Are you- are you fucking kidding me?” you struggled in his hold. “Bucky is over there, what the fuck are we doing?! Let go of me! I know you have no problem leaving the people you claim to love to suffer and figure it out for themselves, but I can’t do that,” you seethed. “I’m not leaving him, get the fuck off, someone needs to go get him!

“And you and that stupid fucking camera, letting him go in by himself,” you turned on Sam, “where the fuck were you?”

You didn’t realize how much you were struggling to breathe as you fought against your friends to get past them, you didn’t realize how easily you were unraveling as you spiraled quicker and quicker the more time stretched on. It hadn’t been more than a minute or two but it felt like an eternity.

“He’s not answering, okay, he’s not answering so someone needs to go find him. We need to get him! Why are we just standing here! He could be hurt, or trapped, or - fuck!”

“I know. I’m not going anywhere. I’m not leaving. But you are. You and you,” he eyed Yelena, “you two need to go. Bishop and Torres are at the first jeep - you guys need to clear the area. The less of us around to get hurt the better and there’s not much you can do.

But I promise you, I’m not leaving him. Okay? I swear,” Steve said as he stared into your welling eyes.

“You’re the last person I’d trust to keep a promise,” you bite harshly before being pulled away by Yelena. You didn’t fight her, though. A part of you knew Steve was right. There wasn’t much you could really do and the more people there were the more likely someone else would end up hurt, too.

Even still, when you got to the jeep, you couldn’t stop yourself from trying to make a break for the west end of the site. How could you possibly live with yourself if you didn’t even try to go in and help him?

Your attempt was futile, though, and soon you were sobbing into your hands as Joaquin drove you all back to the safe house.

As you stood there now, still pacing aimlessly, guilt washed over you. You could clearly recall the subtle recoil from Steve, the pain and regret in his eyes, at your words.

You knew he’d never forgiven himself for leaving Bucky, you knew a part of him could never, and you knew it was a low blow to bring up, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to care in the moment. You wanted him to remember. You needed him to. Because he couldn’t do it again. He couldn’t just leave him there to.. No. He wasn’t.

That wasn’t even a possibility.

He couldn’t be.

He wasn’t.

You kept repeating it over and over again in your head as your eyes threatened to well anew.

He wasn’t.

He couldn’t be.

—

It was past midnight when you had finally taken a seat on the lumpy sofa.

Kate’s earlier attempts at getting you to sleep were useless and only ended with you growling at her to leave you alone.

She, of course, ignored your snarling and stayed on the couch, just watching you. Her sympathetic gaze was as irking as it was easing.

She didn’t really say much, knowing not to push you, but just her being there had you feeling less like you were drowning. She grounded you a bit.

But she couldn’t take the fear away.

You felt her shuffle closer to you when you finally sat down but didn’t turn until her arms were around you, pulling you in.

You let out a broken breath as you turned into her and returned her hug.

“It’s gonna be okay,” she murmured as she hugged you tighter. “He’s a supersoldier. And he has a vibranium arm. Odds are definitely in his favor,” she tried to lighten the mood.

When you didn’t respond, she pulled away slightly.

“Seriously,” she said as you pulled away from her, looking her in the eye, “we were watching surveillance while you guys were inside. Redwing, we think, set off whatever motion detector was set. He was a bit ahead of Bucky, so we know he wasn’t that close to the blast. The feed cut out, obviously, but.. I don’t know, I thought that’d maybe..help you.. feel better? I just-”

“No, I appreciate knowing that. Thank you. But honestly, I don’t think anything’s gonna help until I know for sure. Until he’s back here.”

The front door creeping open had both of you standing and turning at attention. You could almost feel your heart in your throat as your breathing stalled.

It was a perilous few seconds of nothing before Sam stepped inside.

He looked exhausted and worn and.. Solemn.

“Sam,” Kate edged gently.

There was a pit in your stomach as he looked between you and Kate for a moment before his gaze dropped and he shook his head.

A stunted gasp left Kate’s lips as your heart stuttered, eyes wide, your stomach dropping before the door was shoved open even more.

“Please, don’t get him started on that stupid bird again, for the love of god,” Bucky huffed as he walked in, trying to hide a slight limp before a smirk graced his face as he met your eye.

Everything seemed frozen in the moment you registered his voice and when your eyes met his you honestly thought for a second you were dreaming.

He was leaning against the open door, a relaxed smirk on his lips before he nodded to you, “What happened to you coming to save me, huh?”

You didn’t even register yourself moving until you crashed right into him, almost toppling Bucky over as you did. Your eyes were bleary with tears of relief as you sighed heavily, shakily in disbelief.

“I’m sorry,” you breathed as you crushed yourself to him even further, his solid arms holding you right back as you felt him press a kiss to your head.

“I was kidding, sweetheart. Don’t say you’re sorry,” he chided.

You pulled away from him, taking his face in your hands.

“You’re okay?” you asked.

“Always,” he answered, leaning closer to kiss you softly.

“I wouldn’t say that,” Steve challenged as he came in behind Bucky. “But give it a few days, I’m sure you’ll be good as new.”

You swallowed thickly as you looked at Steve, shame again coming over you, even more now as Bucky’s arms were around you.

You looked away, taking a steadying breath as you took Bucky’s hands in yours.

“You should sit,” you said as he let you lead him away from the door, allowing Steve to close it. “Or shower, maybe?”

“You gonna join me?” he asked, his flirtatious nature never faltering.

“Have some decorum, some of us are in mourning, jackass,” Sam gruffed as he walked through the living room.

“Oh, Sam,” you called, stopping him. You walked up to him, as sincerely as you could, “I’m sorry,” you offered gently before punching him as hard as you could manage in his arm.

“Hey, what the hell?” he said incredulously as he held his arm.

“You deserved that one,” Kate said as she came to stand next to him. “I really thought Bucky bit the big one for a second,” she chuckled, “I am sorry about Redwing, though.”

“Why are you sorry for a robotic bird, I’m the one who almost got blown up,” Bucky interjected.

“Almost being the operative word there. Redwing, on the other hand, did get blown up.”

“I’m not doing this with you again,” Bucky groused, walking past the living room to the bathroom on the other side of the stairs. “I am gonna shower, sweetheart. Would you grab my bag from upstairs?”

“Yeah, of course. I’ll bring it to you in a minute.”

You watched Sam and Kate go upstairs but you were too caught up in your own mind to really pay attention to their conversation. You saw Steve about to make a move to follow them, looking tired and ragged himself.

You followed him, pulling his hand before he could make it up the steps.

“Hey,” you started. “Can we talk?”

He looked a little nervous, unsure, but nodded anyway.

“Sure,” he said, turning around to follow you.

You walked into the living room that was now empty before you turned to meet Steve’s eye.

“I am so sorry,” you apologized, voice thin as you tried to keep your emotions in check. “I don’t know why I- it doesn’t matter, you didn’t deserve that. It was uncalled for. And not true. And I am so, so sorry, Steve.”

“Tensions were high, it’s okay-”

“No, it’s not. It’s not okay. You’re his best friend, you would do anything for him. You love him. I know that, we all know that, and I never should have.. You did everything you could have,-”

“I didn’t—.”

“You did,” you insisted. “You did. And you and I both know he definitely wouldn’t be here today if it wasn’t for you. You’ve put your life on the line for him countless times, and even if you do hold yourself accountable for the train - which you shouldn’t - your slate would’ve been wiped clean about six life saves ago,” you smiled lightly, earning a small smile from him in turn.

“He’d do the same for me. He has done the same for me,” he laughed softly. “‘M just glad he’s alright.”

“Yeah. Thank you. For getting him out. For being there for him. I went a little crazy when I thought he was hurt,” you looked down, ashamed at yourself.

“I can’t blame you. Been there before. But he’s okay. You’re okay. I’m okay. We’re all okay.”

You nodded, meeting his eye once more before you hugged him tightly, his own arms coming around you to return the affection.

“He’s more banged up than he’s letting on,” Steve said as he pulled away, “you should check on him. I’ll throw your bags down, you guys can take the room down here.”

“Thank you, Steve. Really,”

“Don’t mention it,” he smiled before heading back for the stairs.

As you made your way to the bathroom Bucky was occupying, you heard a low grunt followed by a hiss of pain. Knocking lightly, you gave him a second before you let yourself in.

The deep purple bruises that littered his torso had you grimacing for him sympathetically.

“Don’t look at me like that, sweetheart, you know they’ll be gone this time tomorrow.”

“That’s not the point,” you argued, stepping in further, shutting the door behind you.

You walked up to him, lightly running your hand down his torso while pouting mindlessly.

His thumb found your lip as he pulled it down, getting your attention. “I’m fine,” he assured you.

“You could’ve gotten really hurt, Bucky. You could’ve died.”

“But I didn’t. I’m right here. Right where I want to be,” he said as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close.

You let your head rest against his chest as he held you, your arms finding their way around him.

“I was so scared,” you whispered pathetically, “I don’t think I’ve ever felt that kind of fear before. I hated it.”

“I’m sorry, baby,” he murmured into your hair. You shook your head, brushing off his needless apology before you took a heavy breath.

“I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you,” you confessed.

“You’re not ever gonna lose me, sweetheart. I’ll always find my way back to you,” he said softly, still holding you against him, “Always.”

A part of you wanted to argue the inevitable. One day, hopefully not one so soon, one of you would lose the other. That was life, wasn’t it?

But you couldn’t bring yourself to challenge him. It was nicer to believe that he was right. He’d always find his way back to you, and you would always find your way back to him.

Always.

You reached your hands up to gently rake your fingers through his hair. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Never been better,” he simpered easily, enjoying the feeling of your affectionate touch.

You dropped your hands to his shoulders before sliding them down his solid chest, your fingers soothing comfortingly along his skin.

“The truth?” you prodded quietly, flitting your gaze up to meet his brilliant blue eyes in a request for his honesty.

He was quiet for a second before he took a heavy breath, his hands finding and holding yours before he lifted one to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your hand. “The truth is, I’m gonna be okay,” he responded in earnest.

You allow your hand to cradle his stubbled cheek as you keep his loving gaze, finding comfort in the warmth of his eyes.

“Should we talk about it?” you ask, a little hesitant to bring it up, not wanting to let show how unnerved you were still feeling. And it wasn’t that you didn’t trust him when he said he was alright, but still you wanted to know exactly what happened, you wanted to know what he was going through back there. And selfishly, you knew you needed to know everything before you’d start feeling any kind of alright, either.

Bucky’s gaze softened even more at your question. Sam and Steve had told him you were worried, but he hadn’t realized how upset you really were while they were back there. Aside from being banged up by the blast and being trapped in the hallway he’d been in for a good while while Sam and Steve worked to get through the wreckage of the site to get him out, he really was okay. Especially when he knew you and everyone else were safe.

He didn’t feel the need to talk about it, but just from the look in your eyes he knew you did. So he didn’t have to think much at all before he answered.

“Yeah, we should talk about it,” he said, his hand on yours as you caressed his cheek. “Shower first?” he prompted, pulling you from your ever anxious thoughts.

You nodded, “Good idea.”

You turned to leave the slowly steaming bathroom as the shower continued to warm, but were stopped by Bucky the moment he realized you were going for the door.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“I’m gonna grab your bag,” you laughed lightly, but not pulling away from his hold.

“You’re coming right back?” he questioned. “I was away from you for more than long enough already tonight, you can’t be gone too long.”

“I’ll be right back,” you tittered, a lightness returning to you the longer you were around him.

“You better be. If you take anything away from tonight, it should be that you’re not gonna get rid of me that easily, doll,” he smirked playfully as he let you go.

“I wouldn’t dream of even trying,” you said before leaning back in to kiss him softly. “You know I love you, Bucky, right? More than anyone, or anything, ever. You know that?”

“I do. But I don’t mind the reminder,” he smiled into another gentle kiss. “You know I love you more?”

You kissed him deeper at that, not realizing how much desperation was fueling you until you finally pulled away, leaving both of you a little breathless.

Your eyes were pinched shut as you tried to keep hold of yourself, pressing in close to Bucky once more.

“You can’t ever leave me. You can’t,” you whispered desperately.

Bucky’s light grip on your chin had you looking up at him, bleary eyes and a soft pout on your lips as you met his intent gaze.

“Look at me, sweetheart. I wouldn’t ever dream of it. I’ll always get back to you. I promise. Always.”

[heavenlyraindrops]

𝐋𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Fandom: Honkai Star Rail Blade x Reader Warnings: Profanity, Sexual Content, p in v, cockwarming (? Idk not really), Blade’s name is Ren, afab!reader Word count: 1.6k

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

You made potions for living. Well, more like- elixirs, soothing, calming ones, but most of your clientele had begun to call them “potions” to the point of you giving up on trying to correct them. Your clientele, being the Stellaron Hunters.

Kafka had sought you out, after hearing your reputation for creating some of the most effective elixirs there was, and after that she’d begun ordering from you almost weekly. You weren’t surprised- they were Stellaron Hunters, after all. You wondered how they wouldn’t burst without some form of relaxation. 

Blade would come up once a week to pick up some elixirs. You’d talk, maybe, and over the time you had grown close from those small conversations, which grew in length and depth over time too. 

“How’s Kafka?” 

“She’s fine,” came the short reply.

Closer.

“How was your mission?”

“Fine.” His eyes were more tired than hard today. You handed him the bottle. 

“Good luck on your next one.”

His eyes roamed your face. “…Thanks.”

Closer.

“So. Blade.”

He looked up, confused by your definitive, obscure sentence. 

“Any other name? A real name.”

His eyes locked onto yours, burning, and you wondered if it was a good idea to ask him in the first place. “You can use Ren,” he said cautiously. “If you must.”

“Ren,” you murmured, testing it out on your tongue. You smiled at him. “I’ll see you around.”

He hummed, already turning to leave, face tilted away from you. 

Closer.

“How’s business?” He was the one initiating the conversation this time. It surprised you, pleasantly. 

“It’s good. Sold more than usual. Maybe I’ll be able to move out of this tiny ass apartment.”

His finger ghosted across the ring of the bottle you had just handed him. “That’s good.” His eyes flicked up to meet yours. “If you move, you’ll tell me? I mean-“ his voice abruptly stopped as he hastily corrected himself. “You’ll tell us?”

You smiled, faintly. “Yes, Blade, I’ll tell you.”

The colour that rose to his cheeks was barely visible as he turned away to leave.

Close enough. 

Frankly, you just wanted to get your back blown by him, but you weren’t exactly going to admit it, were you?

You definitely weren’t going to admit it now, as he stood in your doorway, both your hands outstretched- yours to give, his to receive. 

“You’re bleeding,” you uttered, hand freezing over the bottle. He stiffened, more than he was already, which was amazing in its own right. “Blade, come inside.”

You didn’t want to ask too many questions. 

You saw his jaw lock into place as he stepped back. “I don’t need-“

“Ren, come inside. Let me take care of you.” The words sounded awfully wrong on your tongue, and you bit your lip to shut yourself up. His eyes flew to the action. What the hell were you saying? It sounded weird. Stop it. Stop. 

A few seconds ticked by painfully.

He shifted, and stepped inside, into the doorway. You looked up in surprise. His eyes flicked up and down your body, and you stiffened under the intensity of his gaze, all the heat in your body pooling in one specific place.

“Well,” you said, slightly breathless. “Let me just… get some stuff.”

━━━━━·:*☆…━━━━━·:*☆━━━━━·:*☆…━━━━━·:*☆

“Ren, what is the meaning of this?”

His arm wasn’t bleeding. There was a small scar where the cut was meant to be, a scar to match the rest of the ones littering his exposed upper half, shirt and other articles of clothing lying on the sofa next to him. 

He looked up at you, adam’s apple moving as he gulped, and it struck you that he looked nervous. His eyes flicked away, face returning to its usual stoic look. 

“You’re not bleeding,” you pointed out flatly. 

“No, I’m not,” he muttered. Without thinking, you took his chin in your hand, tilting his head up to look at you. A strand of hair fell in front of his face, lit up by the pale moonlight seeping in through your blinds into the otherwise dim room. You quickly released him, clenching your fists. Can this evening seriously get any more embarrassing for me? Your heart pounded against your ribcage. 

“Could have- Could have told me before I dragged you in here,” you chuckled nervously, heat burning on your face. Your anxious smile faded a little. “Why didn’t you?” 

He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Instead, his leg, pressed against yours as you stood over him, nudging you subtly, urging you to move closer. You did. “I can’t say.” His voice was dangerously low, his undertone lined with a meaning you just barely picked up on, and a wave of something you couldn’t describe overtook you, burning hot.  

“Then show me.”

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A moan escaped your lips as you forced yourself to not dig your nails into Blade’s shoulder with another slow, lazy thrust of his hips, all the pleasure shooting to your core and eliciting another whimper from you, one that made him smirk against your neck. The action burned sweet against your skin. 

“Ren,” you gasped breathlessly, and his fingers trailed up your arm again, and he pulled away from you. You were hyper aware of him buried inside you, every throb and twitch felt all across your body. “Shouldn’t we- the eli-“

He threw a dismissively glance at the bottle of elixir lying on the table behind you. “Forget it,” he muttered, crashing his lips onto yours again. And they tasted so good to you that you did forget it. “Focus on me.”

He gave another roll of his hips, his cock languidly stroking your walls and just barely hitting that sweet spot inside of you- not enough to satisfy you yet enough to drive you crazy. You rolled your hips, desperate for something more, and his teeth clamped down on your lips hard. You whimpered again, feeling tears of frustration gather at the corners of your eyes. 

“Move,” you pleaded breathlessly, hands tangling through his long, soft hair and giving a gentle tug as you whimpered.

“Desperate, hmm?” Blade hummed, trailing his fingers down the side of your neck, where he had left a couple of bruises and bites. You nodded wordlessly, hands curling into fists and bunching up the fabric of whatever clothing you’d let remain on him, and a small huff of amusement escaped his lips. 

“Maybe, if you beg for it…” he trailed off, his scarred hand slipping down your waist without warning, finger teasing your clit. Your entire body tensed up even more on the unexpected contact. Your walls twitched, gushing. 

“Ren, please,” you mumbled. He leaned in, breath ghosting over the shell of your ear. 

“Can’t hear you,” he hummed.

You sucked in a sudden, shuddering breath as his fingers teased your entrance, already wrapped snugly around his girth. “I’m begging you, please, fu-“

His lips captured yours again, hand pulling at your hair, tongue slipping behind your teeth. You bucked your hips again, almost riding him with the way you were moving, and he groaned into the kiss, tilting his head to deepen it. 

“Stop that,” he hissed against your lips, reffering to your desperate movements. You didn’t, instead dipping your head into the crook of his neck, leaving a feverish trail of kisses down his skin, from his jaw to his collarbone, hands exploring his toned torso. His hand wrapped around the back of your neck, taking in a fistful of hair and yanking you away. You whined at the action. “So needy.”

“Only for you,” you breathed, staring at him through half-lidded eyes, and you swore you could have felt him twitch inside you.

His hands fell to your hips, grabbing you and pushing you back into the sofa. You yelped, feeling the air rush out from behind you as your back collided with the cushions.

A small curse fell from his lips as he entered, and you whimpered, stretching out to take in his whole cock, back arching at the pleasure. His hand snaked its way up, wrapping itself around your neck, pushing you deeper into the couch as his hips moved, thrusting, with a steady pace. 

“Fuck,” you moaned, raking your nails down his back, a lock of his hair falling onto your arm and shoulder. You suppressed another whimper as his length hit a certain spot inside you, throwing your head back, seeing stars. You might have said his name, but you couldn’t focus on anything except the white-hot pleasure pulsing through you. 

His lips dropped to your neck again, the heat from his own body burning on your skin as they traced a path down your jaw to your neck, interrupted by a few breathless grunts. 

“Ren,” you whimpered again, as his hips snapped against yours, sending another shockwave throughout your body. “I think I’m gonna-“

“Go ahead,” he groaned, breath hot on the shell of your ear. 

You did.

Nothing would have prepared you for the orgasm’s intensity, tearing through your body. Your limbs went weak almost immediately as you whispered his name, almost like a mantra. He came too, finishing all over your stomach. You pulled him down towards you, pressing your lips against his, capturing each other’s breath. He sank into the kiss, both your bodies still trembling. 

“Tissues are on the-“ you began, as he buried his head in the crook of your shoulder, arms wrapping around you. He shook his head, silencing you. You fell quiet, silence filling the room. 

“Just stay like this for a while,” he mumbled, voice muffled by your skin. You sighed, squirming and shifting around to make yourself comfortable before supressing a smile. 

“Fine.” 

━━━━━·:*☆…━━━━━·:*☆━━━━━·:*☆…━━━━━·:*☆

A/N: i lowkey hate this but I feel like if I don’t post it it’s a waste cause I spent so long on it like bruh I was literally just horny wtf I hope this is acc good and I’m just deluded

[snowflakeanimelover]

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Relationship: Thomas Shelby x Female Reader

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Warnings/notes: Cussing, kidnapping, threats, enemies to lovers?, hurt/no comfort, badass reader, reader needs a hug, so does Tommy, SPOILERS, reader is written as American(with no Irish slang or speech mannerisms) but it's not detailed in the story.

Summary: As the leader of the notorious gang Peaky Blinders, Thomas Shelby knows his life won't be easy. Nothing ever is. However, he always felt he had the upper hand.

Until he gets kidnapped and dragged across land by a woman.

NOTES: this might be a mini series. I’ll probably post two chapters and see if people like it. Go from there.

Master list | Chapter 2

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All This Time

It had taken years of patience, blood, pain, and heartache to get where Thomas is today. He had a goal, and he got there to the best of his ability. He got there with hard earned rewards. He pissed a lot of people off while doing it, but what gangster doesn’t have enemies? Thomas has gone through many trials and errors, and he’ll continue to do it until his goals are fulfilled…no matter the cost. He has gotten this far, why stop now?

Thomas Shelby is a man of his word, a man with honesty, a man with smarts. He tends to be one step ahead of everyone. That includes his family and his enemies. However, there’s someone who ends up getting the upper hand.

One night, he remembers just falling asleep at the brink of midnight, and then a forceful push against his mouth with a sweet smell. He felt as if he was suffocating. Suffocating with fear and paranoia. All he could think of was the war, and he couldn’t help but to think how real this dream was. How this person held him down so firmly, pressing a cloth to his mouth. His arms flailed, his legs kicked, and then…

Darkness takes over.

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A cold breeze was what awoke him so suddenly. For a moment, it felt nice, it felt peaceful, until he had almost forgotten what had happened. It was a nightmare, wasn’t it? A horrid dream that felt so real. However, the faint sound of crackling flames, chirping crickets and hooting owls, and many other outdoor noises made him realize he was far from home.

Thomas jolts up within seconds, eyes swimming in dizziness as he tries to wake up. He could feel his body sway from side to side as he sat up, shaking his head here and there to help him focus.

“You’re awake,” a voice says, matter of fact.

He wasn’t sure what it was, but he felt so frantic, so on guard. His ocean blue eyes, that have now become focused, land on a person sitting a few feet away from him on the ground, knees up in a relaxed hurdle sitting form.

A woman.

Thomas didn’t see it at first, mostly because this woman was wearing men’s clothing. Pants, boots, and a simple blouse. Unusual clothing for a woman, but he didn’t particularly care about that detail at the moment.

It’s not like he hasn’t been through this before, being kidnapped or jumped from behind for a good beating. His heart calms instantly, and he takes a deep breath to soothe his nerves. You can’t do anything if you’re frantic.

He takes a moment to study his surroundings, given this woman was sitting so casually close by. Thomas finds himself sitting on a blanket, feeling the prickling grass underneath it, and another blanket laid over his legs. He wore his nightly clothes, which can only prove what he thought was a dream…wasn’t.

Two horses shuffled in place nearby, their reigns tied to a thin tree. A handmade fire pit warmed his form beside him, and a large bag sitting behind the woman. Were they traveling?

”I wouldn’t try anything, if I were you,” the woman speaks up, her gaze flicking up from her fidgeting to the man she kidnapped. “He wants you alive, but he never said I couldn’t harm you.”

A clear threat, but one that hardly phased good ol’ Tommy.

Thomas’ blue irises are trained on the woman now, watching as her fingers pick apart some piece of bread, stuffing some in her mouth here and there to chew. “Where the fuck are we? Who are you?”

She doesn’t answer right away, taking her time to mess with her food and stare at the dancing flames between them. “You can call me Y/N,” she answers vaguely. ”And yes, I kidnapped you.”

”What do you want? Money, eh?” His tone was frustrated, panicked, even. He was trying to think. Trying to answer all of the questions piling in his mind, and figuring out how to get out of there. “I’ve got plenty enough to give you.” It was a cheap shot, honestly. He grimaced at such an easy way to get out of this, but he didn’t really care. He doesn’t like being in a situation where he isn’t in control.

Y/N huffs a breathy laugh, an amused smile adorning her face. The sky was dark, and the orange flames lit her complexion nicely. “I'm sure you do, Mr. Shelby.” And with that, she doesn’t say anything else.

Now Thomas was getting frustrated. What in the world could this woman want? What would she gain out of this?

“You said he,” Thomas asks, thinking about her words from just a few minutes ago. He figured that was enough of a question as it was for her.

”I did,” she nods, not bothering to add anything to it.

He scoffs. And he thought Polly or Ada were difficult…now he surely knows who’s on the top of that list. “Who is he,” Thomas continues. He wants answers, and he wants them now.

“For a powerful gangster, Mr. Shelby, I’m amazed you don’t know all of your enemies,” Y/N comments nonchalantly. “He is someone you’ll find out once we’re there.”

”Where’s there?”

”Boy, you sound just like your son. What’s his name again?” She smirks, glancing at Thomas. “Charlie, right? Although that’s what you all call him. His real name is Charles-“

”Where the fuck is my son?!” Thomas begins to throw the blanket off of him, determined to reach her and wrap his hands around her pretty neck.

But a simple cock of a gun freezes him, and he looks down at her relaxed hand. A 1911 pistol held tightly in her grip as she pointed it right at him.

“Take another step, and I’ll shoot you in the leg,” she warns, “now that wouldn’t be a good idea, hm? If you want to see your son again, I suggest you stay calm.”

With labored breaths, Thomas reluctantly sits back down in his spot, feeling defeated.

”Relax,” Y/N then says, putting her gun back by her side. “I didn’t touch Charlie. He’s right where you last saw him, at home.” she doesn’t miss the way Thomas lets out a breath of relief. She is surprised he believes her so quickly, not that she’s lying, anyway.

Suddenly, a harsh thump is heard as a small half of a loaf of bread falls on his blanket. Thomas’ brows furrowed in confusion as he hesitantly picked it up, glancing at the woman for answers.

“Hungry?” The corners of her lips quirk up into an amused grin, seeming to have the other half of the loaf and takes a bite of it. “You’ll need to eat. We’ll be riding at dawn. It’ll be a long day tomorrow.”

[bad268]

heyyyyy can i request kimi antonelli and a reader who is sick and has to go to the doctor/hospital? idk if this is too specific or too much to add but could im rlly scared of needles and i feel like he'd be rlly cute and comforting so could reader be scared of needles?

Please Don't Make Me (Andrea Kimi Antonelli X Sick! Reader)

Fandom: RPF/F2/F3

Requested: Clearly (as someone who just had to stay in the hospital for 5 days, I relate. Anyway, ily <3)

Warnings: food poisoning (vomiting, weakness, fever), needles

POV: Second Person (You/your)

W.C. 1486

Summary: Kimi's s/o has been sick recently, so Kimi decided the urgent care is the place to go.

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Pinterest)

“Do I have to go?” You wrapped your arms around yourself as you leaned away from the car window that you had been resting against for the entire drive as Kimi pulled up toward the entrance to the urgent care. After the first week straight of your fever, painful stomach cramps, and not being able to keep food down, Kimi was already concerned, but then you passed out. He knew at that point you needed to see someone, so partially against your will, he drove you to the urgent care. You were already out of it and usually, you two would go for drives at night, so you didn’t think anything of it when he helped you into the car. Then, he pulled up to the urgent care, and you were willing to do anything besides going in there.

Kimi didn’t answer straight away as he pulled into a parking spot, turned off the car, and leaned over to press his hand against your forehead. You leaned into his head when he moved it down from your forehead to hold your cheek. “You still have a fever, you passed out just before we left, and you have not stopped vomiting in a week. This isn’t normal, amour (love). I just want to make sure you’re okay. Please? I’ll be with you the whole time.”

“You know I hate hospitals and doctors,” You whined, but cut yourself short with a groan as your stomach started hurting again. You doubled over as much as you could in the car, and Kimi climbed out, ran around to your side of the vehicle, and opened the door to help you out. “No, I’m fine, Kimi. Can we please go home?”

“We can go home after you see someone here,” Kimi negotiated, grabbing your arms and pulling you out of the seat. You stood in front of him weakly as your knees buckled, and Kimi had to hold all of your weight. “I’ll get you anything you want on the way home. Just please, let me take you to see someone. You should be able to stand, and it hurts me to see you so sick.”

“Fine, but I want gelato and the special pizza. Both or no deal,” You countered with a pout as you leaned into his body more, craving the heat. He just sighed before moving to close your door and lock the car. Then, he started helping you walk to the front of the building, but you only made it a couple of steps as your feet kept dragging. It wasn’t because you were dragging them; it was because your limbs felt too heavy for you to lift them, so Kimi lifted you to carry you the rest of the way.

He set you down in one of the waiting room chairs while he filled out some paperwork on your behalf. He wrapped up quickly before walking and taking a seat next to you. It didn’t take long for you to go back, again with Kimi carrying you into the room. He set you carefully on the bed as one of the nurses immediately began taking your blood pressure.

“Based on the initial answers, we’re also going to set you up with an IV,” she explained as she pulled out a needle to get the line in.

Your scared gaze immediately shifted to Kimi, who had taken a seat off to the side, out of the way. He met your eyes before moving to sit on the edge of your bed and grab your free hand. He ran his fingers through your hair as he whispered in your ear.

“They’re just trying to get you hydrated,” He comforted. “Squeeze my hand as much as you want. I’m not going anywhere.”

“But I don’t want to even have a needle in my arm,” You tried to object, attempting to pull your arm away from the nurse. You could feel your heart rate speed up as tears filled your eyes and your breathing became unsteady. “I don’t want it. Please don’t make me, Kimi, please.”

“Is there any way we can hold off for a little?” Kimi asked the nurse. It broke him that you were hurting and he couldn't make it better. Plus, he knows the IV would make you feel better since you haven't been able to keep anything down and you have been so dehydrated. He also knows he needs to pick his battles. There was no use in trying to argue right now. He just got you to agree to come in the first place. He needed to take the small win before convincing you about the IV. “Maybe do some tests first?”

“We can do that,” The nurse agreed as she set the needles down, causing you to let out a huge breath as your breathing and heart rate returned to semi-normal. “Can you explain the symptoms you have been having?”

“I’ve had a fever, been throwing up everything, stomach cramps, and I’ve just been really tired,” You explained before dragging out as you couldn’t remember anything else.

“You’ve also been pretty weak recently. Like you couldn’t stand on your own outside. It’s been going on for a little over a week and a half now that we know of,” Kimi assisted. “I also feel like your brain has been foggy for the same amount of time.”

“That could be a side effect of the lack of nutrition,” The nurse comforted. “Was there anything you did differently before this all started?”

“I feel like we went out to dinner with the team,” You guessed, looking to Kimi for confirmation. “We were in Brackley for some testing, and I think we went out to a seafood place.”

“Did you have raw seafood or was it cooked?”

“I think you had sushi and I had teriyaki chicken,” Kimi answered.

“Yeah, I had a couple of sushi rolls,” You replied excitedly since this was a rare moment of clarity. “I remember you said you’d rather eat your protein cooked, and I thought it was funny.”

“Well, I think I know what this is then” The nurse chuckled along with you, causing you both to look at her expectedly. “Raw seafood makes for a higher chance of food poisoning. All of your symptoms alight and the timeline fits. The only thing we can recommend is liquids to keep you hydrated and when you feel up to it, eat some bland foods. I’d suggest bananas, rice, applesauce, or toast when you get to that point. Seeing how dehydrated you are now, I’d like to put you on an IV line and maybe give you two bags of fluid before sending you home.”

Your eyes snapped to Kimi as he was nodding at the nurse before he looked down at you, and moved his hand to hold your face to stay looking at him. His hand rested on your cheek as his fingers gently caressed against your cheekbones. This also served as a block, so no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t see the nurse or the needle.

“So no more raw sushi, right?” Kimi teased you as he tried to take your mind away from the needle.

“No more raw sushi,” You replied sadly. 

“Don’t tell Lando anything,” Kimi joked as he briefly glanced at the nurse who was getting ready to put the needle in. “He’ll say ‘I told you so’ or something.”

“Lando is a big baby,” You chuckled lightly. “Food poisoning isn’t going to stop me from eating sushi forever. Just a few months or something.”

“Is that so?” Kimi gasped as you went on.

“Sushi is life, Kimi,” You deadpanned. “A little food poisoning isn’t going to stop my love.”

“And look at that! You didn’t even flinch!” The nurse cheered as she took off her gloves and that’s when you looked over. The needle was already in and the IV was already dripping. You had already started to feel a little bit of the effects kicking in. Were you really that dehydrated? “I’ll come back in a couple of hours to make sure you are getting hydrated, but feel free to get comfortable and call me if you need anything.”

“There’s no way I missed that,” Your jaw was dropped as you stared at the needle embedded in your arm. “I didn’t even feel it, but I do now.”

“That’s because you’re staring at it,” Kimi chuckled lightly. He stood up, going to grab a cloth and wet it with cold water before bringing it back and laying it across the back of your neck. You sighed in relief as you practically melted into the bed. “That should help you feel less hot. Try to take a nap if you can. I’ll be here when you wake up, amour (love).”

He placed one last kiss on your forehead as your eyes fluttered shut.

~~~~~

© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[lovesick-x-prince]

For Whumptober:

Number 20: Emotional Angst

Shoulder to Cry On | Giving Permission to Die | "It's not your fault."

Prompt: Emotional Angst / Shoulder to Cry On / Giving Permission to Die / “It’s not your fault” Fandom: Third Life Pairing: Desert Duo Notes: I made this one set in Nobody Feels Like You, I'm sorry, I couldn't resist the urge, lol. Half of these Whumptober prompts will probably be set in Nobody Feels Like You, but you can still read them without knowing what that is! Warning for injury, angst, and death.

-

Scar is dying.

Grian is used to it.

That doesn’t mean he stops fighting against it. Scar’s breath is wet and ragged against his neck as Grian pulls him forward another step. The way Scar’s breathing hitches in pain, sharp and agonized, is familiar now, since Grian has been trying to get Scar to safety and listening to those sounds for the past twenty minutes. “Just a little further,” Grian lies, as though they aren’t in the middle of the Sand Lands, nothing but desert all around.

Even if Grian can get Scar to Monopoly Mountain, how is he meant to get him to the top of the mountain, into the safety of their home? It’s not possible - Grian banishes the thought from his mind, and takes another step, and another. Each time, Scar’s breath hitches, his arm jerking where it rests around Grian’s back, his fingers shuddering on Grian’s shoulder. “Grian,” Scar says, five, maybe ten steps later. Grian takes another step. “Grian. Grian, stop, I need - I need to sit -” “We can’t stop now,” Grian snaps back, raising his voice. He swallows. Purposefully gentles his tone as guilt swells thick in his throat. “... We can’t stop now.” “Grian -” “Just hold on a bit longer, and I can -” “Grian. Please.” One step. Another. Scar’s head falls to rest against Grian’s shoulder. Grian is basically dragging him along now, Scar barely able to help him with the task. As Scar’s face rests against Grian’s neck, Grian can feel the dampness of his partner's tears. He stops. Swallows. Slowly lowers them to the ground, holding Scar close, keeping his partner's head rested against him. “Thank you,” Scar rasps out, gratitude spilling between them, “thank you. It’s… it’s okay, G. It’ll be okay.” “How can you be trying to comfort me now?” Grian questions. His voice breaks, embarrassingly, and he has to squeeze his eyes tightly shut for a long moment to keep from crying himself. He hates Tango. He hates Tango, and his stupid traps, and his stupid arrows, and of course Scar had to take the arrow for Grian, even when he was already injured and bleeding and burnt - “You’re thinking too loudly,” Scar sighs, leaning away from him so he can peer directly into Grian’s eyes. Grian examines the stark, bright red of Scar’s irises, and fails at his attempt not to cry. “You promised,” he says instead. It’s a childish thing to say, a childish thing to rely on. It was a childish thing to demand of Scar in the first place, but Grian hadn’t demanded, he’d only clutched at Scar so tightly, gasping from nightmares, and begged Scar not to leave him, not to die -

“I promise,” Scar said, like it was a promise he could keep. “I’ll stay with you.” “You promised,” Grian says again, childishly.

“I know. I know. I’m sorry, I… I’m trying, G.” He was trying. Scar could have succumbed to his wounds already. He should have, really, if Grian were being honest with himself. Grian forces himself to look at Scar, to really look at him.

Scar’s clothing was mostly destroyed in the explosion, revealing swaths of dark, shiny, blistered skin. In some areas, the damage was so bad that the skin was actually black, already dead. Beyond the burns, there were countless scrapes, bruises, and cuts of all sizes, bleeding sluggishly. Through Scar’s side, an arrow was pierced, the tatters of the clothing that had survived there now soaked with dark blood.

Grian had to look away, bile in his mouth as he tried to focus through the wash of dizziness that had overcome him.

Scar was hurting. He was suffering so badly, only clinging on because of Grian’s selfish demand.

“... Come here,” Grian whispered, voice soft. When he looked back at Scar, his partner was already leaning towards him, like a sunflower trying to get closer to the sun.

Gently, Grian drew his partner into his arms, to lay across his lap. Any energy left in Scar seemed to vanish as soon as he was laying there - Scar went practically boneless, his face pushing into Grian’s hand when Grian brushed a strand of hair out of his eyes. His eyelids were fluttering desperately, as he struggled to keep his eyes open.

Grian could taste his tears in his mouth, wet and salty. He could see them, as they dripped cold off his chin, and down onto Scar, soaking into his shirt alongside the blood and the sweat and the dirt.

He placed a hand over Scar’s eyes, giving him blessed darkness.

“... Just a moment,” Scar said. His words were slurring, quiet. “Just… need a mo… then we can… continue.”

Grian shook his head, even though Scar couldn’t see him. He glanced up, and squinted into the sun, waiting a second before he responded, to make sure his voice would be steady.

“... It’s okay, Scar. You can go.”

“... Go where?”

“... You can go,” Grian said again. His voice broke again this time, despite his attempts to steady it.

Scar shifted in his lap, barely. Normally, he would be throwing himself up - searching for what it was that upset Grian, smattering out reassurances. Of course I’m not going anywhere, he would say, pouting, eyes wide, abandon our monopoly? Never. “... I’m… re-, really sorry.”

Grian shook his head. “It’s not your fault. I… I shouldn’t have… made you promise.”

Scar didn’t respond.

It was fine.

Grian would just have to try again.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Yell at Me and Tell Me You Love Me

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!reader

Summary: You distance yourself from Tim because you think he is still in love with Isabel. When he confronts you about why you've been avoiding him, you accidentally tell him the truth.

Warnings: angst to fluff, argument, friends to lovers, the timeline of Tim and Isabel's relationship is probably off but I needed to make everything fit

Word Count: 3.0k+ words

A/N: The first title I typed was "Yell at Me, Tell Me You Love Me, But Don't Push Me Away" and I'd just like to say (a very sarcastic) you're welcome for shortening it. (Unless you like the original, then I'm sorry.)

Picture from Pinterest

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

You met Tim Bradford less than a week after he left the Army and quickly became one of his closest friends. Despite the secret kisses shared without thought, holding each other tightly for no reason, and falling asleep in each other’s arms, you continue to be just friends with Tim Bradford. Being part of his life for so long means you’ve seen more than most. You were at Tim and Isabel’s wedding, gave him a place to stay after the divorce, and you fell in love with him without even trying.

Since his divorce from Isabel, you’ve shared a few more thoughtless kisses, said “I love you” before ending phone calls, and slept in the same bed simply for comfort on more than one occasion. You know you need to stop, however, because Tim is still attached to Isabel, as far as you can tell. She calls occasionally, and he rushes to answer the phone, leaving you like an afterthought as the woman he truly loves becomes available again. You’re unwilling to be a rebound or a distraction while Tim works on his relationship with Isabel, but you can’t decide how to set a boundary you don’t want.

It's nearly midnight, and you can’t sleep with thoughts of Tim running through your head. As you consider the idea of simply giving him space, letting him know that you both have things you need to deal with before you can be his friend again, your phone rings. Tim’s name and face light up your dark room and life before you answer.

“Hey,” you greet.

“Hi. I- did I wake you up?” Tim asks.

“No, I couldn’t sleep.”

“Me neither. Are you okay?”

When Tim asks that question, you realize that the only thing you want from or for Tim is for him to be happy. Alone, in the dark, you acknowledge that the only way for him to be happy is if you are willing to move out of the way of what he really wants. If you step away and give him room to work out his feelings toward Isabel, maybe he can find what he wants and focus entirely on that.

Tim says your name, and you rush to say, “Yeah, I’m fine, just- just thinking.”

“You want me to come over?” he offers.

“No,” you answer quickly – too quickly. “It’s late, and I’m really fine. Are you?”

Tim sighs before answering, “I guess. Isabel called today to tell me she’s going back to rehab. She wants me to come by once a week, act as part of her support plan.”

“Do you think it’s a good idea?”

“I enabled Isabel for so many years that I don’t know.”

“You’ll do the right thing, Tim. You always do.”

A memory of last week, when Tim kissed you during a walk on the beach, flashes through your mind. Was that the right thing?

“Or you have too much faith in me,” he argues.

“I think I have just the right amount of faith in you.”

“It’s your turn to pick dinner on Friday.”

You see an opening to pull back and tighten your grip on your phone as you ask, “Actually, can we skip this week? I’m swamped and don’t know if I’ll be able to make it. I’d hate to leave you waiting.”

Tim hesitates before agreeing, “Sure. Just let me know when you’re free. We can do whatever you want.”

“I will,” you reply softly. “I’m getting tired now, though, so goodnight, Tim. And good luck with Isabel and your decision.”

“Yeah, thanks. Goodnight.”

You bite your tongue to keep from saying I love you one last time, and as you set your phone down, actively pulling away from your best friend, you want to call him back and ask if you ever had a chance. Instead, you press your face into your pillow and force yourself to think about other things as you fall asleep.

✯✯✯✯✯

You sit in bed and stare at your phone as your finger hovers over the star beside Tim’s contact. When you remove him from your favorites list, everything will begin to feel real. Just as you lower your finger, your phone buzzes with a text from Tim. Three simple words make your heart pound as you read them.

Call me, please.

You want more information before you decide to call him or not. Distancing yourself will be hard enough without Tim vying for your attention the entire time you pull away. Clicking the star so it disappears, you make the first step in separating your life from Tim Bradford’s.

“Please be the right choice,” you whisper, staring at his contact photo. “I just want you to be happy. Happier than I could make you.”

An hour later, your phone rings, and you send Tim to voicemail. If it is an emergency, he’ll leave a voicemail. With each unanswered call and text, the time between them lengthens. Maybe Tim has already realized you weren’t as important to him as you both seemed to think.

By the end of the first day not talking to Tim, you want to scream and cry simultaneously. It’s hard to lose a friend, but harder to lose the one person you love. Reminding yourself constantly that you’re doing it for Tim and his happiness, you don’t give yourself time to think about how much your decision and the distance are hurting you. You knew Tim would hurt for a while before finding his way back to Isabel, but you weren’t expecting to feel like a piece of your heart had been ripped out. That’s what you get for giving it to Tim without telling him, you suppose.

✯✯✯✯✯

After a sleepless night of tossing and turning, someone knocks on your door as the sun rises over Los Angeles. You roll out of bed and pull a sweatshirt over your head before looking through the peephole. Tim stands on the other side of the door and speaks before you can think about pretending to be gone.

“I know you’re here,” Tim calls. “I don’t have a lot of time, just wanted to check on you before work.”

After you open the door, you look out at him and give him a closed-lip smile. He looks at you like he can see straight through you, and you wouldn’t be surprised if he could.

“We made a huge arrest last night and a couple of us are going out tonight to celebrate,” he says instead. “Do you want to come out with us?”

“Uh, no, but thanks for the offer. I’ve got a lot going on right now, and-“

“Like what?”

You tilt your head to the side, wondering what he means.

“What’s got you so busy that you can’t even text me back?”

“I- I don’t want to talk about it right now, Tim,” you say, opting to deflect rather than lie. “But congratulations on the arrest and have fun tonight.”

Tim’s jaw tightens as he nods. You watch as he walks away, wishing you could run after him. As you close your door, you decide that slowly pulling back will not work; if you want to give Tim room to find his way back to Isabel, you must leave him.

Pushing your fist against the closed door, you take a deep breath before walking through your place and gathering everything that reminds you of Tim. After placing it in a box, you shove it into your closet. Next, you turn off the notifications in your phone, so you won’t be tempted to answer when he calls or texts. The hurt of losing Tim worsens with each action as you pull yourself further away from him.

“Please be happy,” you beg as you close the door on your box of memories.

✯✯✯✯✯

“You’re grumpier than usual,” Nolan notices. “I mean- sorry,” he adds quickly.

“Timothy,” Angela calls. “A word?”

“No,” Tim replies.

“Bradford, now.”

Tim rolls his eyes as he stands and walks to her desk. She gestures for him to sit, and while he should feel like a kid in the principal’s office, he feels more like a man being told his wife is divorcing him and having to maintain a brave face even as his heart shatters in his chest.

“What do you want, Lopez?” he asks. “No small talk.”

“I wouldn’t dream of trying with you, Timothy. I want to know what’s up with you and why you’re taking it out on everyone here.”

“It’s none of your business.”

“You’re making it our business by pushing your frustration, or whatever it is you’re dealing with, off onto us. Is it Isabel? I heard she’s back in rehab.”

“No,” Tim answers, scoffing as he leans back. “It’s not Isabel.”

“Is there any chance that part of you still cares about her, and even if you’re lying to me and yourself about it, Isabel still affects you?” Angela asks.

“No, Lopez. I can guarantee that this has nothing to do with Isabel. She asked me to visit her as part of her support plan and I told her I would think about it, but the ‘source of my frustration’ hasn’t even let me do that.”

“Timothy, just tell me what’s bothering you and maybe I can help,” she offers quietly.

Tim stands as he replies, “You can’t. The only one who can help me with this is avoiding me.”

Angela’s brows furrow as she wonders who he could be referring to. Tim is adamant this isn’t about Isabel, but Angela can’t think of anyone else with this level of pull over him.

“Let me know if you change your mind and want to talk, Tim.”

“Will do,” he answers, though he and Angela know it’s a lie.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Isabel!” Tim calls, jogging to catch up to her. “Hey.”

“Hi,” she replies, hugging him quickly. “I thought you were going to call my sponsor with your decision.”

“I was, and I did. But I also wanted to let you know, in person, that I can’t be part of your support plan. At least, not right now, not after everything I did over the last few years.”

Isabel nods as she guesses, “You feel partially responsible and don’t want to risk letting me fall back into my old ways. I get it, Tim, but thanks for considering it.”

Tim nods, and Isabel can tell something is bothering him.

“You want to stay? Talk for a bit?” she asks.

“I can’t. I’ve got a work thing,” he replies. “Thank you, though, and good luck with everything. I’ll be back by when I have some time.”

“Tim,” Isabel interjects, wrapping her hand around his forearm. “I recognize that look. I only saw it once, and it didn’t turn out well for me. Whatever it is you want to say to whoever it is, just say it.”

“I don’t know how,” Tim admits.

“My take: if she’s important enough to affect you like this, you’ll find a way to let her know what you’re feeling.”

“What if she doesn’t care, Isabel?”

“I can’t tell you what to do, Tim, but I can tell you that waiting too long doesn’t make things any easier… I have to go, I’ve got a group meeting, but, Tim, what’s worth the risk: saying something or keeping it quiet until it’s too late?”

Tim nods before he waves as Isabel turns toward another building. Tim texts Nolan that won't be at the celebratory gathering while he walks to his truck. He knows where he needs to go but doesn’t know how to deal with everything once he gets there. Hopefully, seeing you will give him the right words to say.

✯✯✯✯✯

You broke your heart trying to let Tim be happy and keep yourself from getting hurt in the fallout of losing him. Your house seems bare, every picture and memory of Tim tucked away in a failed attempt to keep your mind off him. A knock draws you out of your miserable reverie. Whoever it is knocks again when you leave it unanswered, the sound harsher and louder than the first time. 

“Coming!” you call.

You open the door without thinking and are surprised to see Tim standing on the other side.

“Can I come in?” he asks in response to your stunned silence.

Say no, your mind says, but your heart makes you step back and invite him inside again. Pushing him away the second time will be much worse, but you can’t seem to stay away from Tim.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Tim says.

He leans against your kitchen counter with his arms crossed, waiting for an explanation you don’t want to give. The whole point of making room for him and Isabel to reconcile (like he wants) was for Tim to figure it out himself.

“Ready for what?” you ask defensively.

Tim shakes his head and scoffs as he tightens his arms over his chest. “You’re unbelievable, you know that? After everything we’ve been through together, you really expect to avoid me without an explanation or question?”

“Everything we’ve been through?” you repeat incredulously. “We’re friends, Tim. Friends stop hanging out when one of them gets busy.”

“Oh, now we’re friends? Were we friends when you crawled into my bed three weeks ago, or when we were making out on the beach? Because that didn’t feel very friendly,” he snaps.

“No, we weren’t friends; I was just a woman who made a mistake,” you reply.

“Am I your friend or am I a mistake?” Tim demands. “Because you can’t seem to keep your story straight. It’s a simple question: why are you avoiding me?”

“If I’m such a bad friend, why does it matter, Tim?”

Tim pushes off the counter, stepping toward you. His jaw clenches, and his biceps flex as he raises his arms in question. You would kiss him any other time, but right now, you’re angry that he can’t just trust you are busy. Granted, it is a lie, but you don’t appreciate the accusation, which is likely your emotions talking.

“I’m not answering your question unless you answer mine,” he says.

“Then I guess we’re not going anywhere.”

Tim looks up at the ceiling before asking, “Why?”

“I’m not going to stand here and argue with you all night. If you think I’m a liar, just say it, Tim!”

“Well, you are the one keeping secrets.”

“So, what, you think I’m avoiding you? Then get out and let me!” you demand.

“And go where? In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not surrounded by friends, and I thought you were one of the few I had, but I can see now that I made a mistake.”

“Me too.”

“I’m sorry that your precious, perfect little world decided to turn you into this,” Tim seethes, looking into your eyes as he steps toward the door.

You move with him, chest to chest, as you yell, “And I’m sorry that you couldn’t figure out I love you enough to let you go back to Isabel!”

Tim falls silent, and your chest heaves with anger. You realize what you admitted, drop your gaze to Tim’s chest, and lick your lips before lowering your voice to speak again.

“Maybe I was stupid for chasing after you when I knew you weren’t interested, that your heart would always be with someone else. I thought that someday you’d realize that everything I’ve done over the last few years has been for you; I’ve been chasing you just to find out that I never had a chance.”

“I don’t want to go back to Isabel,” Tim says after a moment of tense silence. “I went to see her today to tell her that I couldn’t be there for her anymore. If I’ve been acting different, chasing after someone, it’s because I’m falling for you.”

“You don’t fall,” you argue quietly.

“You deserve better,” Tim adds. “I don’t remember what it’s like to share my life with someone who cares about me and wants the same thing.”

You nod and try to step back, but Tim moves with you. The couch is right behind you, and you have nowhere to go, so you look into Tim’s eyes.

“I am not in love with Isabel,” Tim repeats. “You really started avoiding me because you thought I was?”

“What else was I supposed to do?”

“You could have asked instead of forcing me to start a yelling match for answers,” Tim replies, his lips quirking up into a small smile.

“I want you to be happy, Tim,” you explain. “And I thought that couldn’t happen if I was in the way.”

“You’re not in the way. You’re exactly where I want you.”

“Where is that?” you ask, leaning toward Tim.

“Right in the middle of my life.”

You raise your arms over Tim’s shoulders, smiling as his hands meet your waist. Tim pushes you against the back of the couch as he kisses you. He moves a hand up to cradle your head as you move with him. This kiss differs from the others; there is a need for more, an apology, and love coursing through you and Tim. Tim pulls back, and you pant for air as he places his hands on either side of your hips and leans forward.

“Just talk to me next time, would you?” he requests.

“And miss out on this? No way,” you argue.

“Don’t seem so excited about getting to yell at me for so long.”

 “You’ve never kissed me like that before,” you say before you distract Tim by moving your hands to his chest.

“You’ve never told me you love me before today.”

“Sorry I had to avoid you for a while to confess it.���

“Maybe we can do it again soon, without the insults before.”

“I don’t know,” you muse. “Insults and yelling are kind of your thing.”

Tim cuts you off, kissing you again and tipping you over the back of the couch. You laugh as he catches himself and hovers over you.

“I love you too, even though you were too blind to see I felt the same,” Tim whispers.

[daddy-dins-girl]

Talk Me Down

A fic requested by @anotherpedrolover

I was gonna wait until Frankie Friday (tomorrow) to post this, but this sweet human being has already waited like 2 months for me to finish this, lol, so here you go! I was asked to write a fic about insecure!Frankie who has some self-esteem/body image issues but after being with Reader (who is very appreciative of his body) he gets into it and develops a bit of a praise kink for it but but he hits a rough patch and gets into a dark place, feeling very undeserving of the love and attention Reader gives him. The person who made the request asked me to focus on his feelings and emotions when he is feeling bad and insecure (and specifically asked for some tears to be shed, lol) so I did my best to beat the crap out of Frankie (emotionally).

I hope this is somewhat what they had in mind and that they like it :) I've never really written anything like this (PWP queen over here) so I hope I got it right and didn't make Frankie too OOC. Hope you all enjoy it!

Page dividers provided by the gracious and talented @saradika-graphics

Ao3 link

My Masterlist Word Count: 9.8k Fandom: Triple Frontier (Frankie Morales x f!Reader) Notes: Pre/No TF Mission. Fic title is from the song of the same name by Troye Sivan. Warnings: 🔞 18+MDNI. Angst. Drama. Body Insecurity/Self-esteem issues. Praise Kink. Smut (pretty tame and not a lot, considering its me lol, but its there). Sad!Frankie. Mid-Life-Crisis!Frankie. Emotional hurt/comfort. Eventual happy ending. Established Relationship. No use of y/n. No physical description of Reader.

“Babe, have you seen my -“ you cut yourself off mid sentence as you turn the corner and your eyes land on your boyfriend, leisurely sprawled on the couch with his legs up on the ottoman, ankles crossed over each other and television remote firmly in hand while a baseball game plays in the background.

“Are you serious?”

“What?” Frankie asks, incredulous.

“We have to be at Will and Benny’s in like…” you pause to look at your watch. “Fifteen minutes! And what is that… are you eating the potato salad I made?”

“Was I not supposed to?” Frankie responds, forkful halfway to his mouth again already.

“Oh my god” You shake your head. You literally can’t with him today. You made that for the barbecue pool party today and now it was nearly half gone.

“Nevermind, let’s just go” you huff. You’re not in a great mood and maybe you’re being a little bitchier than usual thanks to this god awful heatwave but Frankie wasn’t helping matters any.

“I’ll be in the car” you grumble towards his general direction as you head out the front door. At least there’s A/C in the Jeep.

Surprisingly he doesn’t keep you waiting long. He’s shoving his slides on his feet as he hops down the front steps only a minute or so later and then jumps into the driver’s seat next to you, buckling his seatbelt and the two of you head out of the driveway.

“See, plenty of time” He grins at you when you pull up to the outside of your friends house a short while later with actually a few minutes to spare before your requested arrival time. You had attempted to stay mad at him, neither of you speaking more than one or two words the entire drive but now with that stupidly adorable smirk on his face you have no choice but to want to kiss it off of him. Despite your best efforts, a smile tugs at the corners of your mouth.

“There it is” his grin widens as he brings a hand up to pinch at your cheek and you playfully swat him away, trying and failing to hold back a little laugh.

“Baby I don’t know what you think we’re gonna miss anyway. It’s my birthday party. They literally can’t start without me”

“Francisco Morales, you’re going to be late to your own funeral, you know that don’t you?” You shake your head at him but the smile hasn’t left your lips.

“Oh baby we’re gonna be real late if you keep that ‘Francisco’ talk up” he says, wiggling his eyebrows at you and reaching over the center console to grab a handful of your upper thigh. “Maybe we skip the party all together, you give me my birthday present early, hmm?”

“Get out of the car you perv!” You laugh, giving him a playful shove. “Are you sure you’re turning 40 and not 14?”

“All right, all right I’ll behave” He sighs, hands up in the air to signal his defeat.

You’re glad he seems like he’s in a better mood so far today. He’s been a little off the last couple of days and you can’t say why. You’ve asked a few times if something was bothering him but he kept shrugging you off, insisting everything was fine. You chalked it up to maybe just work stress and are hoping now that the weekend is here that he’ll be able to just relax and have a great time with his friends.

Despite you being early, the party is actually in full swing on your arrival. You and Frankie let yourselves in through the back gate where the backyard is filled with several of Frankie’s (and now yours, you supposed) friends milling about. The ones you recognize immediately are his old military unit; Santiago, Benny, Will and Tom, as well as Will’s girlfriend and Tom’s wife. There are a few other people around you’ve definitely met before but can’t place all of them. Either way, you’re glad to see so many people have shown up for Frankie on his big day.

The space is decorated too with balloons everywhere, a giant banner that reads “Happy Birthday Fish!” and a big poster board is taped up against the side of the house as soon as you walk in that has pictures of Frankie and his family and friends all over it with the title “40 Years In The Making” written at the top in huge block lettering. You and Frankie both take a moment to look over the board before anyone deeper inside the yard notices you yet. There are a bunch of photos from his younger military days and even a few from when he was just a boy that have you gushing over him, telling Frankie how adorable he was and pinching his cheek for good measure. You spot a couple of pictures of Frankie having fallen asleep at a party (something he’s been known to do) with his signature ball cap pulled down over his face and beer bottle loosely gripped in his hand and those give you both a good laugh. There’s two photos of you and him together, you notice, and your personal favourite picture of Frankie - him flying his helicopter wearing a pair of Aviators, looking so sexy it makes you melt each time you see it.

You safely assume the wife and girlfriends of Frankie’s closest pals were mostly to thank for the decorating. If it were up to the boys there would be a folded table in the middle of the backyard with a pack of cards and a cooler full of beer and that would be it.

“There he is!” Benny shouts across the yard the moment he spots you both just inside the gate. He dashes across the patio and throws his arms around Frankie, nearly knocking him over in the process before landing a few hard slaps to his back. “Happy birthday ya old fuck” he teases, grabbing on to Frankie’s shoulder and jostling him slightly.

“Yeah, yeah, it’ll be your turn soon enough” Frankie reminds him but Benny just shrugs.

“Always be younger than you though” he winks and that earns him a little shove from Frankie.

The rest of the greetings go more or less the same way, playful teasing or ribbing on Frankie for turning the big “4-0”. It gets old quickly but if it bothers Frankie he doesn’t let it show, just takes it in stride as he makes his way through the small crowd and says his hello’s.

By the time you get home much later that night you’re exhausted. It’s late and the day had been long (and hot in that blistering sun). Add to that you’re sober whereas everyone around you had been thoroughly wasted which made the night seem to drag on even longer. You wanted Frankie to have a great time, it was his birthday after all, so you offered to drive you both tonight and somehow that had turned into you offering to be an Uber driver for half the party so instead of it taking ten minutes to get home it had taken an hour.

“I’m beat” you announce through a long drawn out yawn, stretching tired limbs over your head. “You wanna come to bed with me, birthday boy?” You ask playfully, walking up to Frankie and looping your fingers through the belt loops of his tan cargo shorts to tug him a little closer, hoping he catches on that you’re not that tired.

“Think I’m gonna shower, I hate smelling like chlorine” he complains, gently taking your hands and removing them from his waist. “You go on, I won’t be long” he promises before leaning forward and planting a kiss to your forehead.

“Baby,” you whine, a masterful pout displayed on your lips. “C’mon upstairs with me, while it’s still your birthday” you try seductively, hand reaching out to brush over the outside of his pants at his crotch.

“I said I want to shower” Frankie replies back, a little too curtly for your liking and his tone leaving no room for argument as he pushes your hand away a second time. You frown and the huff of disappointment you breathe out doesn’t go unnoticed by your partner.

“Baby come on, I’m sorry. I just don’t wanna go to bed smelling like chemicals. Go on up to bed, I’ll be right behind you” he says with finality and gives your hand a little squeeze before dropping it and heading off to the bathroom.

You sigh but let him go. Truthfully you’d been trying to drag him out of the party for hours, desperate to get him alone and all to yourself. You don’t know what’s come over you today but you felt downright needy for him, your hormones just off the charts and now he’s making you wait even longer when all you want to do is rip his clothes off and show him exactly how glad you are that he was born forty years ago today and by some cosmic twist of fate found his way into your life.

Once in the bedroom and settled into bed you hear the spray of water come to life in the bathroom down the hall and your mind can’t help but drift and think about Frankie, naked and in the shower. How the water is cascading down his broad shoulders to his soft tummy and strong, thick legs and a heat floods your body, going straight to the lower part of your abdomen. You loved his body and you weren’t shy about telling him either. You remember back to when you’d first started dating, the early stages of your intimate relationship. He was so shy around you at first, always insisting the lights be off or even leaving his t-shirt on when you’d have sex. It was all a mystery to you, how someone as gorgeous as Frankie could have self-esteem issues but you loved to remind him how crazy he drove you and how perfect he was in your eyes.

At first he got so embarrassed at your borderline worship of his body, refused to even believe you in the beginning but he warmed up eventually to the point where he loved it. Craved it, even, your praise of him. Though he’d never admitted to it out loud and always remained a little bashful about it, you could tell. Frankie was already a very generous, selfless and enthusiastic lover, but when you really got vocal with him (or better yet let your tongue and hands do the talking) of how much you enjoyed every part of his physical anatomy, Frankie could get downright animalistic with you and it brought the already amazing sex to a whole new level for you both. You had definitely uncovered a little praise-kink in your boyfriend that you don’t think he even knew existed in himself and honestly no sexual relationship you’ve had in the past could ever hold a candle to the one you and Frankie have created together.

You plan on using every weapon in your arsenal on him tonight to truly wish him a happy birthday he won’t soon forget. You’ll caress, kiss and lick your way from his prominent neck vein, his broad chest with just the lightest smattering of golden brown hair, take more than enough time for your tongue to appreciate each of his small dusty pink nipples before you continue down his sternum to where he gets a little softer. You’ll playfully nip and suck at the small expanse of flesh at his belly that protrudes just barely over his waistline, making sure to let him know with words how gorgeous he is, how hot he makes you, how he’s all yours. You just hope you get to have your fill before he takes his own. It had taken you a while to get Frankie to allow you to appreciate him the way you wanted to. He was always insistent on your pleasure and he still is to this day, but you’ve managed to strike a fairly delicate balance now for the most part, though you’ll admit there are days where Frankie comes home and he just needs you. You’ve come to recognize it on him and you’re glad to give him the reins when that happens, knowing that he’ll allow you to do the same when you need it. When you said Frankie was a generous lover you weren’t exaggerating. That man would spend hours with his face buried between your legs if you’d let him, and sometimes you’d let him do just that. But tonight was for him and tonight you need him. Need to show him how in love with him you are in a way that words just can’t do.

You have to press your thighs together just at the thought of him in the shower now, hoping he won’t be long so you can hopefully pull him out of this weird mood he’d been in most of the day. It started not long after you got to Will and Benny’s. Just silly, little things that just seemed to set him off to the point where he’d either pick a fight with you (or whoever else he happened to be talking to) or just get overly quiet and wander off by himself. You think back trying to think what could’ve started it all. He’d gone into the party in a good enough mood but soon after he started acting weird. The two of you barely fought, like ever, and here you were today in front of all your friends getting into a yelling match with each other about goddamn sunscreen of all things. And it wasn’t just you, he seemed overly quiet today around everyone, even his best friends who were more like brothers to him than anything and none of it made sense to you, you just hope now that he was home maybe he’d get out of his funk.

Your mind doesn’t have any longer to dwell however because Frankie emerges from the bathroom and into the bedroom, already changed into a clean pair of boxers and a t-shirt. Your tongue absent-mindedly peeks out to swipe across your bottom lip at the way the wet curls stick to his forehead or how tiny droplets of water soak through the thin cotton of his dark gray t-shirt because he didn’t quite dry himself all the way off before tugging it over his head.

Not that it matters, you don’t plan on him wearing it long anyway.

“Finally” you smile at him from your spot on the bed and shuffle back slightly to pat down on the space next to you on the mattress. You pull back the bed covers to reveal that you’re wearing next to nothing, A black lacy bra and matching panties that really left nothing to the imagination. It was Frankie’s favourite on you.

“You didn’t have to wait up” Frankie says casually, looking down as he unfastens his watch from his wrist to toss it on the nightstand. If he notices your state of nearly undress during his brief glance in your direction he doesn’t say anything or even react. “Thought you were tired” he adds, feigning concern for your sleep habits.

“Read between the lines Morales, was just trying to get you into bed” you tease, sticking the tip of your tongue out at him playfully. He says nothing in response, just flips off the light and crawls in next to you but to your surprise just throws the comforter over you both and turns on his side and faces away from you as he scrunches up his pillow under his head until he’s comfortable and settles.

You frown, not that he can see you, but shuffle over to him anyway so you’re pressed up against his back and your arm slings around his waist. You stay still for a minute, waiting to see if he’ll take your less than subtle hint that you’re “not tired” but he just lays there, unmoving, and so you decide it’s time to take matters into your own hands. Literally.

Your hand slips under the hem of his shirt to rest on his soft belly and begins to gently explore. Fingertips dancing along the smooth skin and sparse little body hairs and moving over to his hip where you grab onto the small bit of extra skin there and massage his side but before you can go any further he’s grabbing your hand and pushing it out from under his shirt. He brings it to rest on top of his chest over the thin cotton of his t-shirt and just holds his hand over top of yours.

“Baby?” You breathe out into the blackness of the room, worry evident in your tone. Was he angry at you for something else now? You hadn’t even done anything for him to be mad at you about, you’ve been in bed the whole time.

“Sorry, I’m just tired” he mumbles into the pillow but you’re not buying it. Frankie was a bit of a night owl, not to mention it was a Saturday night, neither of you had work in the morning and the two of you always made sure to make the most of your weekend nights together when you could really take the time to make love the way you craved to all week.

“Hey,” you call out softly, grabbing for his shoulder and pulling it towards you so he’ll turn to face you. He lets you, turning halfway to you, onto his back and craning his neck to face you.

“Is everything okay? Are you mad at me or something?” You ask genuinely concerned. You try not to make it sound like you’re pouting because you’re not, you just need to know what’s going on with him. Maybe he’s upset about something, or maybe just a little too drunk to actively participate the way he thinks he should but you wouldn’t mind too much if he was, you certainly don’t mind taking care of him and you know he’ll more than make it up to you the next time.

He lets out a sigh and tiredly rubs at his eyes.

“Of course not. Come here, I’m sorry” he sighs once more and lifts his arm closest to you so you can snuggle into him, your head resting on his shoulder and your arm drapes across his middle again. He tilts his head down slightly to kiss the top of your hair but otherwise makes no moves to initiate anything further physically with you, just holds you tightly to his body.

“Are you really tired?” You ask quietly, turning your face slightly to nuzzle into his neck and plant little kisses there. You feel the little shudder that runs through his body and a smile pulls at your lips.

Maybe he wasn’t mad at you.

“I haven’t given you your present yet” you breathe into the warm flesh of his throat, tongue darting out to give a tentative little lick to the underside of his jaw and he rewards you with the slightest little moan, but it’s enough that you heard it and it encourages you to continue.

You begin to kiss and lick your way down the column of his throat while your hand leaves his chest to come down and gently palm him over his boxers and he instinctively thrusts his hips into your touch and you moan into his skin. You can feel him beginning to swell under your touch already.

“Mmm, can I take you out?” You murmur against his collarbone and he nods his head.

“Yeah,” he lets out in a breathy whisper and brings his own free hand down to help you shove his boxers down his thighs until he’s able to kick out of them.

Your hand wraps around his impressive length the moment he’s free from the confines of his underwear, slowly pumping him with practiced strokes and it’s not long until he’s fully hard in your hand and quietly grunting and groaning, your face buried in the juncture where his neck meets his shoulder. You hate that his shirt is still on, your mouth not able to reach all the places it desperately wants to.

Your hand leaves him for a moment as you push yourself up onto your knees and swing one leg over him so you're straddling his hips, your hands resting on his chest overtop of the soft worn cotton.

“You can be tired baby, let me all do the work” you coo, leaning down to place another kiss to his jaw as you slowly grind your pelvis into his. Maybe that was it. Maybe he was just too tired or drunk to have the full cognitive function he needed but that was fine by you, tonight was for him anyways.

“Shit,” he groans, hands sliding under the back of your panties to grope the globes of your ass in his two large hands and he presses you down even harder against his groin just as he thrusts his hips upwards, the delicious friction causing a moan to escape your lips.

“Mmm, you feel so good” you whimper against his heated flesh as you nuzzle the underside of his jaw and into his throat.

“Take these off” Frankie practically growls, impatiently shoving your underwear down and with his help you manage to wiggle free of them. You both moan in unison when your lower halves press together again, this time with no barriers between you as his throbbing member slides through your slick folds with every calculated thrust of your hips against him.

“Baby you make me so wet” you giggle, hands roaming his hard chest and broad shoulders. “God you’re so hot” you praise, mouth latching back onto his neck as you trail hot open-mouthed kisses down the column of his throat until you reach the collar of his t-shirt.

“Off” you gently demand, hands going to the bottom of his tee and beginning to push it upwards. You need to feel all of him, his warm skin on yours. Need to lick and kiss and touch every inch of him. “Let me touch you”

“Mnnmm mnmm” he shakes his head and without warning suddenly flips you both with practiced ease until you’re underneath him flat on your back and he’s on hands and knees looming over you. He grabs your wrists and hauls them up above your head, bringing them together so he’s able to hold them down with one hand against the top of the mattress so he can have one free and you giggle up at him.

“What’s gotten into you? You’re supposed to be tired, old man” you tease him but there’s no mirth in his eyes after he hears your words, no lingering smile on his lips. There’s desire, sure, but something else on his features. Subtle, whatever it is, but it’s there.

“Do you wanna fuck or not? Jesus,” he snaps. “I can’t do anything fucking right”

Oh, and there it is. It’s anger.

Your face scrunches up at his little outburst. That was not like Frankie at all. Not your sweet, loving, caring Frankie who adored you, this was someone else, someone you didn’t recognize.

“Get off me” you huff, easily wiggling your wrists free as he wasn’t holding too tightly and you bring your hands up to shove at his chest. His yelling at you instantly taking you out of the mood.

He does, immediately. He rolls off of you, grabs for his discarded boxers near the bottom of the bed and shoves them on. You do the same with your own underwear and also pull the sheet up to cover yourself, not wanting to feel any more vulnerable in front of him than you already do.

You have no idea what in the fuck that was all about, snapping at you like that when you thought everything was going rather well. He really was in a mood today apparently, and you didn’t care for it one bit. You’re already feeling overly emotional today, your period must be just around the corner or something.

The room falls silent. Frankie sits on the edge of the side of the bed, hands on his thighs and head hanging low while you lay back against the headboard, fingers twisting into the sheets, holding them around you like a shield. Tears well in your eyes, threatening to fall but you quickly blink them away before you bury your head in your knees.

“Do you want me to sleep downstairs?” He asks softly, the gruffness gone from his voice now. He sounds almost apologetic, though he’s still yet to apologize. He's not looking at you either, but your grateful for that at this moment.

You say nothing. Not trusting your voice just yet but the tiniest sniffle from your nose is near deafening in the stillness of the room. You quickly clear your throat in an attempt to cover the sound but it’s too late. Frankie’s head whips around back in your direction and he’s suddenly scrambling up the bed to wrap his arms around your lower back. Your legs lower instinctively to let him in and he lies over top of you with his head resting on your middle.

“Fuck, I’m sorry” he breathes out, voice muffled by the thin layer of the bed sheet as he buries his face into your stomach. “I’m an asshole”

“You’re not” you sigh. “Just - tell me what’s going on with you” you say calmly, hands now petting through his hair.

“Nothin’” he grumbles into your tummy.

“It’s not nothing, come on,” you try, a little softer this time. “You can tell me anything, you know I love you no matter what”

“Why?”

It's so quiet, so soft, mumbled against you that your ears almost didn’t even pick it up. Your heart breaks a little at the single uttered syllable.

“Hey,” you frown, grabbing both sides of his face in your hands and forcing him to look up at you. “Are you seriously asking why I love you? Where’s this coming from?” You ask, concerned. He’s been known to get down on himself from time to time but you’ve never seen him like this and it worries you.

He lets out a heavy sigh and rolls off of you, crawling up the bed to lay on his back next to you and rubs his hands over his face.

“Baby, talk to me” you press, turning to your side and curling up to his larger frame, hand stretching out to rest on his chest as your fingers play absently with the soft material of his t-shirt. “Did something happen?”

“Yeah, 40 happened” he groans, hand doing a sweeping motion down his body. “I mean, look at this” he shakes his head.

“Oh baby trust me, I look at this every day” you counter, an appreciative smile playing on your lips as your hand gently rubs into his chest.

“This perfect,” you pause to press a kiss into his cheek. “Sexy,” another kiss to his jaw. “Man of my dreams”

“Stop” he huffs, gently pushing you away. “Just don’t… say shit like that. It’s not true” he argues, flipping over onto his side to face away from you.

You know when to push him and when not to, and now is not one of those times. You’ll let him have his moment, knowing if you get too in his face about it he’s likely just going to shut down and you need him to be open with you if you’re going to get anywhere. So instead you just leave him be, but stay nestled into his side, your hand rubbing small circles into his back and shoulder blades, just a soft gesture to let him know you’re here and not going anywhere.

Long minutes pass and after a while you think maybe he’s fallen asleep, until you hear it. It’s barely audible, but it’s there. The tiniest whimper falls from his lips, followed by a quiet little sniffle before he buries his face into a pillow in an attempt to cover it up and your whole heart breaks in two.

“Frankie, baby” you soothe, pulling on his shoulder and forcing him to turn towards you. Surprisingly he doesn’t fight it, just lets you roll him over and he instantly buries his face in your neck once he’s facing you, unable to look you in the eyes. But you don’t need to see him, you can feel the hot tears on his cheeks as he presses into you and you wrap your arms around his shoulders a little tighter, one hand cradling the back of his head as he lets his emotions out.

“I love you, ok?” You whisper against his chocolate brown curls, your lips pressing a kiss to the side of his head. He says nothing, just nods his head against you that he knows you love him and he knows he’s being oversensitive but he just can’t help it.

“I wish you could see what I see” you murmur against him, still hugging him tightly to your body.

Franky gently pushes back from you slightly, quickly wiping at his eyes and collecting himself before his red-rimmed gaze settles on yours.

“I’m sorry I’m in a shit mood and taking it out on you, it’s not fair and you don’t deserve it” he apologizes, shaking his head slightly. “I’m just feeling down on myself I guess and I dragged you into it and I’m sorry”

“Is that what’s been going on all day?” You ask, genuinely curious. You’re starting to piece it together now, all the teasing he’s put up with all day, how he only seemed to be snapping at you when you complimented him or tried to take off his shirt tonight. Not to mention all his friends running around half naked in just their swim trunks all afternoon, most of whom kept themselves in very tip top shape. Maybe Frankie had grown a little softer since the two of you have been together but you loved it on him, his ‘dad bod’ physique. He has nothing to be embarrassed or ashamed of, as far as you’re concerned. But you suppose it’s hard not to feel self conscious when standing next to a shirtless Will, Benny or Santiago who all look like they could be models in some sort of hot firefighter calendar or something. None of them did anything for you though, Frankie would always hold your heart and your gaze, no matter who he was standing next to.

“I guess” Frankie sighs, fingers now picking at an imaginary thread on the blanket underneath you. “Sometimes I just wonder…” he trails off again and you frown.

“Wonder what?”

“Wonder what in the hell you’re doin’ with me” he sighs, throwing his hands up. “I’m a fuck-up. Forty years old and what have I accomplished in my life? I have a shit job, working for an asshole I can’t stand, flying tourists around and giving private lessons on the side to rich jerkoffs who don’t give a shit about learning anything about flying, just want a cool photo for their Instagram. Since I left the service I just feel like… Like I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing with my life anymore so I just haven’t done fucking anything. And you… god knows why you give me the time of day but you do and I just don’t ever feel like I’m enough. Least I could fucking do for you is go to the gym and take care of myself, god knows I need to eat healthier” He shakes his head and you’re unsure for a moment if he’s done beating himself up but before you even have a chance to articulate a response he starts up again.

“Like look at this!” He shouts suddenly, voice raised much higher than moments earlier as he rips his shirt off his head and sweeps his hand down his front. “How can you be in love with this, with someone who looks like this?! I… fuck’”

He doesn’t get any more words out, his hands flying to his face to hide his shame as he starts sobbing with how much hatred he apparently holds for himself and you can’t take it. You lurch forward, wrapping your arms around him and holding him as tightly to your body as possible. Thankfully he doesn’t push you away, just grabs onto you like you're his only lifeline, clinging to you with desperation.

“Frankie, my love, oh Frankie” you’re in tears now too, holding onto him for dear life so he can’t slip away from you. You won’t let him. Not this time.

You crawl into his lap, your legs wrapping around his waist and arms still around his neck like a needy spider monkey.

“I love you, so fucking much” you clarify, because you need him to hear you. “I’m sorry if I ever made you uncomfortable. I know I can get carried away sometimes but I guess I just thought you were okay with it, thought we were both into it. But I’ve never lied to you when I tell you how I feel about you or your body. Do you hear me, Francisco?” You ask and after a moment he nods his head just slightly, just once.

“I am crazy about you, whether you believe it or understand it. But if it makes you uncomfortable when I express my physical attraction to you the way that I do, then I'll stop. Or, you know, try to. Sometimes in the heat of the moment it might just come out but you can remind me and I swear I'll do my best. Just tell me what you need from me baby, whatever it is I’ll give it to you. I can’t lose you Frankie, I can’t!” Your tears flow even harder and Frankie’s grip around you tightens at your words.

“I know, I know” he murmurs softly. “Too fucking good for me” he reiterates quietly, but not in an argumentative way like he’d meant it earlier, more like he can’t believe you put up with his shit but he’s so glad that you do. You think maybe your words have sunk in because he's not arguing with you anymore, not berating himself, just absorbing everything. You decide to leave it be for now. You've said your peace, now you can only hope he'll believe your words and take everything you've said into consideration to fend off whatever demons are feasting inside of him. All you want is his happiness and you know that you can't be the one to solely give that to him, that he needs to find it within himself as well, but you're damn sure willing and hoping that he'll take the support you give him and that he'll let you be there at his side to continue to take on this journey of life together. If he wants to find a new job, or a new career even, you'd support him through that in every way you can. You'll do whatever is in your power to get him through this and you just hope now that he knows that.

You hold each other for several minutes, neither of you saying anything further, just taking whatever comfort you have left to offer one another. You don't push him for any more communication, assuming if he's not speaking it's because his thoughts are still a little all over the place and he still hasn't quite worked it all out for himself. He'll talk about it again when he's ready and whether that's tonight or tomorrow or next month, you'll wait for him. He's worth the wait, there's no doubt in your mind about that.

After a while Frankie shifts you both until he’s lied down on his back on the bed with you half draped over top of him and eventually sleep overcomes the tears and emotions and your breathing evens out as you both drift off within minutes of lying down, the full events of the day finally taking its toll on your weary bodies.

When you wake again the sun hasn’t quite risen to the sky but you know it’s only minutes away, not hours. You feel like you didn’t sleep at all. Your head is pounding like you’re the one who finished a gallon of tequila last night, not your boyfriend and his friends. Frankie is beside you, though you’ve more or less switched positions. You’re fully on your back with Frankie’s arm draped across your middle, his face buried into the juncture where your neck meets your shoulder and he snores softly. You’re glad he’s sleeping peacefully, god knows he needs it. You carefully extract yourself from him, needing to get up and use the bathroom, tossing on a pair of shorts and a tank top. As you pad across the plush carpeting and out to the hallway your mind spins a hundred different directions as you think about yesterday, about last night. You were both highly emotional but truth be told you’ve felt off for weeks. More tired. Bitchy. And you know you’ve been taking it out on Frankie even when he’s the last person that deserves it and who knows, maybe he thought you’ve been trying to push away from him and last night he just tried to do it himself before you got the chance to and he let his insecurities get the better of him. Of course that wasn’t your intention, you’ve never felt for anyone the way you feel about him and you meant every word last night when you told him you can’t lose him. You’ve just been a mess lately and you can’t really explain it other than you know it’s nothing to do with Frankie and certainly not his fault, he just takes the brunt of your ‘crazy’ because he’s the closest person to you. You don’t know what the fuck has been going on with you unless…

Shit.

You practically sprint the rest of the way to the bathroom down the hall, tossing open drawers and cupboards and medicine cabinets in a flurry as you look for that precious little white stick that might explain a whole hell of a lot that’s been going on with you.

“Hey” you softly call out from the doorway of the bedroom, leaning up against it with a large glass of water in hand. Frankie slowly stirs. He’s on his stomach now and raises his head to look at you through sleep-bleared eyes, wayward curls falling across his forehead.

“Hey” he rasps out, voice no doubt shot from all the talking and yelling and crying from last night.

This is what the water was for.

You cross the room and he immediately throws the blanket open, inviting you into his warm cocoon as he slightly sits up against the headboard. You hand him the water as you settle in next to his large warm frame and he chugs the entire glass in record time.

“Ah, thank you, I needed that” he says, clearing his throat and then reaching past you to place the glass on the nightstand before he wraps his arms around your shoulders and pulls you into his chest, his chin resting atop your head.

“How are you feeling?” You murmur into his chest, hand coming up to draw small shapes against his clavicle.

“Like a bit of a first class idiot, if I’m bein’ honest” he sighs and you squeeze your arms around him a little tighter.

“Don’t, babe” you tut, pressing a kiss to his chest. “You were feeling a lot yesterday and it obviously needed to come out. I’m glad it did. We need to be honest with each other, you know?” You tell him, tilting your head to look up at his face. He flashes the tiniest smile at you and leans down to press a kiss to the tip of your nose before you settle back against his chest.

“Some of the things I said last night though, I didn’t even mean. Not really…” he trails off, shaking his head like he’s trying to get his thoughts in order.

You push back from him slightly and up into a sitting position and turn to face him so the two of you can have a real conversation.

“Like what?”

He shrugs shyly and looks away, fingers fidgeting with the blanket around his waist. You hear a mumbled ‘dunno’ fall from his lips. You have a pretty good idea what he’s getting at but know that he’s too embarrassed to say it himself so you help him out, scooting a little closer and placing a hand on his naked chest before you let it slowly drift lower, fingertips dancing across his warm soft flesh and his eyes close and he lets out a content little sigh as he feels your hands on his body again.

“Last night I thought that maybe… I sometimes make you feel uncomfortable when we’re in bed with the attention I give and show you... Was that just insecure Frankie talking?” You ask softly. His eyes are still closed but he nods his head. Your hand rests on his stomach and you slide it upwards again and wrap it around his neck, your thumb brushing back and forth behind his ear.

“Sorry I basically called you a liar last night. That wasn’t fair of me” He tells you sincerely, finally opening his eyes to look back at yours. “I know you love me. All of me. God knows why, but you do” he finishes with a teasing smirk.

“I do love all of you. Every inch. And sometimes I just love showing you how much I do” you shrug.

“I know. And if I’m bein’ honest… I do… y’know, like it. I really like it. I just, yesterday, I don’t know what came over me. Just feeling sorry for myself I guess and wasn’t feeling… up to par, for you, and I guess I got a little too much in my own head. Shit I don’t know, guys teasing me all night, I probably had too much to drink and looking at those stupid pictures of me from when I was much younger and took better care of myself just had me feeling not very good about myself”

“Frankie, baby,” you begin, shifting your position so you can swing one knee over to the other side of his hips so you’re sitting on his lap on your knees facing him while he rests against the headboard. His hands immediately go to your hips and rest there, just holding you, while yours go to his shoulders.

“You never have to doubt for a moment how I feel about you. How I desire you. I need you to hear me on that” you tell him, staring into his eyes in hopes he doesn’t get too embarrassed and turn away from you again. To your delight, he doesn’t. He holds your gaze and his thumbs absently draw small circles on your hips. “I am in love with this Frankie, the one right in front of me. To me he’s sweet and perfect and yeah, he turns me on. Like, a fucking lot. So sorry, but you’re just gonna have to face facts, and thems the facts” you conclude teasingly and he lets out a little chuckle.

“Understood” he nods once before he pushes forward slightly and his mouth latches on to the side of your throat, gently kissing at your inviting flesh. Your head falls back and your hands travel up to hold the back of his head, fingers running through soft chestnut curls.

“There’s something else you said last night…” you begin, trailing off slightly as Frankie’s hot mouth on your skin attempts to distract you.

“Mmm?” He mumbles into your neck, not letting up from what he’s doing as he licks and nips and sucks at the supple flesh of your throat.

Despite wanting nothing more than for him to continue, your hands go to his chest and you gently push him back. He falls back against the headboard with a quiet thud and looks at you with a hint of confusion and worry in his gaze.

“You said you haven’t accomplished anything since leaving the military and well… I just wanted you to know that I am currently in possession of evidence that you have accomplished something very special. Might even be the most important thing you’ve done in your life” you shrug and he raises a curious eyebrow at you.

“Possess… what? What do you mean?”

Rather than spell it out for him, you take his large hand in two of yours and bring it to rest on your stomach, his palm flat across the span of your belly. It’s probably too early for a ‘bump’ just yet but you hold his hand there all the same and within seconds you watch as the realization dawns across his face. At first his brow furrows like he’s confused but then they perk up and his face splits into a giant grin that reaches his eyes and causes them to crinkle at the corners.

“Baby are you… are you serious?” He asks for confirmation and you simply nod your head.

“I mean, I think so. I’ve been feeling kinda off for a while and you my dear boyfriend were too sweet to call me out on any of my crazy shit” you add teasingly and huffs a little laugh but shakes his head. “Then it all kinda clicked into place when I woke up so I took a test this morning and it was positive” you shrug. “I’ll have to make a doctors appointment to be su-“

You don’t get the rest of the words out before Frankie is on you. He surges forward pressing his mouth to yours in a firm kiss before he moves to start peppering tiny little kisses all over your face and neck until you’re bubbling over with laughter as his facial scruff tickles your throat with his frantic movements.

“We’re having a baby?” He asks, eyes welled up with tears as he pushes back from you to stare into yours. He needs to hear you say it, make sure he’s not dreaming this moment. You had a close call together once before, hence the left over pregnancy tests in your bathroom cupboard but nothing came of it. Neither of you expressed disappointment or relief over the false alarm several months back, just kept on with your lives but now it felt different. At least for you. You felt… ready. Excited, even.

“We’re having a baby” you confirm, wide grin across your lips, ecstatic that Frankie is happy with this news.

“Oh my god” he breathes out, wrapping his arms around your back and pulling you tightly against his chest so he can bury his nose in your hair. “I'm gonna be a dad?”

“You’re gonna be a great dad” you clarify.

“Oh my god” he breathes out again, pulling you back tightly against him one last time.

“I’m so glad you’re happy about this” you blubber through a few tears, squeezing him back just as tightly. You really weren’t sure how this news would go over, especially given the events of last night and how Frankie currently felt about his position in life but you are incredibly relieved at how happy this news has made him. You weren’t planning this, like at all, but you suppose when you have as much sex as you and Frankie do, no matter how careful you are, it’s bound to happen.

“Of course I'm happy” Frankie murmurs into your shoulder. “I’m so fucking happy” you can feel a few stray tears fall against your skin and you smile, holding him impossibly tighter.

You stay there for several long moments, just letting everything sink in before Frankie speaks and breaks the silence. It’s quiet, muffled into the warmth of your skin as his face stays buried in your neck, but you hear it.

“Will you marry me?”

“What?” You breathe out in shock. You heard him, you know you heard exactly what he said, but… is this really happening?

“Will you-”

“I heard you” you quickly interrupt, gently pulling back from him enough so you can look at each other again. You put both hands on his face, searching for any traces of regret like maybe he just blurted that out because of the endorphins coursing through his body but he looks back at you only with pure love in those giant brown irises of his.

All the same, you need to be sure he’s absolutely sure and not just doing this because he thinks it’s ‘the right thing to do’. You want him to marry you because he wants to marry you, not because of any obligation he might feel. To be honest you’ve been waiting for a while for him to pop the question, you figured you’ve been together long enough, living together even for a while now but it hadn’t happened yet. You try not to feel too over excited that he’s asked you now, in case it’s for the wrong reasons, but you can’t help but feel how your heart practically soared the moment the words fell from his lips.

“And?...” Frankie asks hopefully and you realize it’s been several long seconds without you actually giving him an answer.

“Baby,” You sigh, your gaze glancing down for a moment and you feel his shoulders drop a little, like he’s already anticipating you saying no to him. “I would marry you in a damn heartbeat but… I just don’t want you to ask me now because you think you have to. This is a lot, I just don’t want to put any more pressure on you. I don’t expect you to suddenly feel ready to marry me because of this”

You try desperately to hold back the tears that threaten to fall. If he agrees with you and takes it back you won’t be mad with him but you know your heart will be just a little bit broken.

“Wait right here” he suddenly pipes up, taking your hands and pressing them into your lap before he extracts himself from the bed and runs over to the closet. You watch him closely, not exactly sure what he’s up to as he scavenges around at the top of the closet for a moment, rooting through a box you recognize that holds some of his military achievements that he said he didn’t want to hang up or have on display, a chapter of his life he had closed.

He seems to find what he’s been after and scurries back over to the bed, crawling across it on his knees until he’s back in front of you again and presses a small blue velvet box into your hands. You flip the lid open and a soft gasp leaves your lungs.

“This isn’t exactly how I wanted to do this” he shrugs. “I bought it weeks ago and I wanted to, you know, plan something big for you and then ask you but, I mean, what’s a bigger moment than this, right?”

Your eyes well up again (happy tears this time) as you stare down at the beautifully crafted diamond engagement ring that sparkles brightly despite the low lighting of your bedroom. The band is a beautiful rose gold, your favourite, and the cut of the diamond and style of the ring is one you’ve been dreaming about since you were a little girl. Clearly Frankie paid attention all those times you happened to pass by a jewelry store together.

“You’ve had this for weeks?” You ask through your tears, still not believing it, your dream actually coming true. Not only was Frankie asking you to marry him, but it was his idea and something he’d decided on long before he knew you were pregnant.

“Yeah I guess I’ll have to call off the marching band and the flash-mob dancers now though” he teases with a smirk. “Unless you want me to take it back and-” he goes to reach for the ring but you snatch the box out of reach, clutching it to your chest.

“Not on your life pal” you playfully threaten.

“Can I at least put it on you then?” he laughs. “That is, if you’re saying yes? Wait, let me…” he trails off and scoots off the bed again only to kneel down on one bent knee beside it. He reaches up and turns you so you’re facing him and a huge dopey smile spreads across your lips as you watch him want to do this at least somewhat properly. If anyone asks later you’ll leave out the part where he’s half naked when he popped the question.

“May I have that back, just for a second?” He asks and you oblige him, handing back the box.

He begins with saying your full name and your heart practically flutters in your chest as you take a deep breath, trying to keep your composure and get through this without being a weeping, blubbering mess.

“Would you make me the happiest man alive and be my wife?” he asks, slight tremble in his voice from his nerves and all you can do is give him a face splitting smile before you frantically nod your head and yank him up from the floor, crushing your mouth to his.

“Yes I’ll marry you Francisco Morales” you murmur against his lips between hungry kisses. “About damn time” you tease and he laughs at that as well. He knows he probably should have done this sooner but he’d been waiting to save up enough money to get you the perfect ring he knew you deserved.

Frankie regretfully pulls away from your mouth to carefully pull the ring from the box and place it on your finger before he holds both your hands in his and lets out a big sigh of relief.

“You make me so happy” he confesses, leaning down so his forehead rests against yours. “I’m sorry if I’ve ever given you any reason to doubt that, but you’re the best thing in my life. Best thing that’s ever happened to me and I’m gonna spend the rest of my life making sure that you and this little one feel the same way about me”

“I will always feel the same way about you Frankie” you promise, eyes slipping shut as another tear escapes which Frankie gently brushes away with the pad of his thumb.

“You’re sure you’re still gonna love me when I’m even more of a pain in the ass in a few months than I am now?” You ask playfully and Frankie huffs a laugh but nods his head affirmatively.

“We’re locked in now baby” Frankie affirms, gently twisting the ring around your finger. “It’s you and me”

“Plus one” you add, looking down to your tummy and Frankie laughs.

“Plus one” he confirms. “And maybe down the line… more than one?” he asks playfully, moving a little closer and nuzzling into your throat before he begins to plant hot little open-mouthed kisses there. You laugh wholeheartedly, your head tossing backwards. Leave it to Frankie to learn five minutes ago that you’re barely pregnant and already asking you if you want another. You really did love him with all your heart and you don’t think you’ve ever been happier than in this moment.

And it turns out that was the truth, that was your happiest moment, until about seven months later a new one replaces it as you hold your beautiful daughter in your arms for the first time. Frankie is at your side with his forehead resting against yours as a tiny hand clutches around one of his large fingers, the one that happens to have a shiny gold band around it now, and tears flow freely down his cheeks. He’d barely gotten there in time for your unexpectedly two-week-early delivery, but he’d made it. Thankfully he was well enough known around the hospital by this point that they allowed him to land his bird on the helipad on the roof before he jumped out and let his co-pilot take over for him as he rushed inside to find you.

It turned out Frankie had found his calling not long after your little unexpected surprise all those months ago. His reflections on the direction his life was going, coupled with your exciting news of having an addition to your family, gave him the push he needed to have his career together in a way that was both rewarding and challenging to him and after a few months of long days and intense training he was accepted into the local Red Cross chapter’s Search and Rescue Program as a Lead Pilot. He loved his job again. He was proud of what he did and most importantly knew that his family could be proud of him too. It allowed him to give back and to serve his community and country the way he always felt he was meant for, except now he could do it and still be home in time for dinner most nights, not shipping out to god knows where for months at a time as he had done in the service.

“Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Morales” the doctor beamed at the two of you, though neither of you could take your gaze off the tiny bundle in your arms long enough to look back at her. Frankie mumbled a polite ‘thank you’ towards her before pressing a kiss into your temple.

“You did it baby” he murmurs against your skin and you can feel the smile spread across his lips.

“We did it baby” you correct him, turning your head just slightly to press a kiss to the underside of his chin. “We made this beautiful, perfect angel” you sigh, nuzzling back in towards your daughter, inhaling that euphoric ‘new baby smell’ you’d up until now only read about but now completely understood.

“My girls” Frankie sighs, heart swelling with content at how goddamn lucky he got in his life.

“Thank you for loving me” he confesses, lips pressed to your temple.

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