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onlyangel4 · 3 months ago

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Could you do Toto Wolff with wife reader? He's down bad for her and always looking out for her. Like giving her his jacket whenever it rains or when she doesn't have one; tiring her hair when it is getting on her face; holding her hands tightly/ hugging during the celebration and anything else. The team could see that and tease him endlessly. Just something fluff and romantic. Thanks!! :))

wifey. toto wolff.

toto wolff x author wife!reader

in which toto might as well have "i love my wife" tattooed on his forehead

warnings- cursing. the fluffiest fluff known to man.

author's note: this was so much fun to write! please do keep on sending requests, the more detailed the better!

being a busy woman meant that you were not the kind of woman to attend every race and toto understood this well. you were an author with a cult following that were always waiting for your next book to be out. your name had been at the top of the new york best sellers list more times than anyone could keep track of and you were always being praised for your work. this meant book tours, charity events and constantly brainstorming book ideas with your publisher.

this is why it had been so easy to surprise toto by attending the silverstone grand prix. you had told him that you were going to be in los angeles attending a big meeting with an american based publisher. however when you left your home in the english countryside you went to a hotel and not an airport.

usually you would never lie to toto but in your mind this was a good lie and you knew that toto was going to be happy about it so you weren't worried about any negative reaction, you were just glad that you were going to get to see your husband in the middle of an incredibly busy racing season.

the press went mad when they caught sight of you climbing out of a car parked at the paddock gates of silverstone. this was the first race that you had attended this season and every photographer was dying to get a glimpse of the woman that had toto wolff's heart in the palm of her hand.

you gave a graceful smile and a wave to the press but quickly made it through the paddock gates, excited to surprise your husband with your presence. your eyes scanned the people hanging out around the paddock looking for your man and soon enough your eyes landed on a large form clothed in a white shirt and slacks, you could recognize that back anywhere.

the drive to survive crew were currently stood in front of toto filming the team principle as he went about his day. one of the producers noticed you in the back ground and you winked at him giving him a thumbs up, telling him that he should film what happened next. you walked behind toto getting on your tiptoes so your hands could reach his eyes, "guess who?", you giggled.

"schatz!", he smiled brightly as he turned to look at you, his arms instantly going to their rightful place around your waist, "this is a long way from los angeles my love"

"guess my plane got lost", you laughed softly pressing a quick gentle kiss to your husband's lips, hyper aware that the cameras were still there, your husband was a private man you weren't sure whether he would be comfortable properly kissing you in front of a film crew.

"i deserve a proper kiss darling", he hummed before pulling you in for a long loving kiss one hand gently cupping your cheek as the other rubbed circles on the small of your back. once you pulled away toto made sure to keep his arm around your waist, just wanting to have physical contact with you.

toto turned to face the cameras addressing the camera directly, "this is my wife y/n. she has a very busy work life so she doesn't tend to attend races", he explained, "so it is safe to say that this is the best surprise ever", you were just stood by his side looking at your husband with pure adoration behind your eyes as he continued to speak a little to the camera before the crew went to go and talk to the mclaren garage.

toto took your hand and pulled you into the mercedes garage a bright smile on his face. toto leant down to press a kiss to your forehead "i love you so fucking much doll", he whispered into your ear.

"i love you too toto"

you spent fp1 and fp2 sat in the garage with carmen, someone you met when george first signed with mercedes, someone that you considered a good friend. "i swear, i have never seen toto this happy, he was in a bit of a mood this morning but as soon as he saw you he brightened up", carmen explained and it warmed your heart to hear that. you and your husband did not make many public appearances together, both liking to keep your professional lives professional and personal lives personal but whenever people saw the two of you in the same room they were forever commenting on how toto was a different man around you, how he was softer and more forgiving if you were about.

the first two practice sessions of the weekend had not gone as well as toto had hoped but he didn't seem to focus on the bad result as much as usual. instead toto decided to take you on a walk along the paddock giving you a tour of one of his favourite race tracks in the entire world.

you attentively listened as toto spoke to you about the different garages and the stragies he thought each team was going to use that weekend. he even introduces you to various people along the paddock, always introducing you as his wife as if it was not obvious by the way your fingers were interlocked. as you walked typical english weather began to hit the paddock, starting with a light drizzle of rain that within five minutes turned into full pelting rain drops.

at this point toto was half was through his little tour of the paddock and he did not want to stop so instead he dipped into a near by hospitality suite and stole grabbed an umbrella. he quickly returned to your side opening the umbrella and holding it over your head keeping you completely sheltered from the rain but he was still in the rain. "you can get in here too toto", you stated.

"but then you will not be fully covered, i can't have that dear", he spoke matter of factly and you knew better than to argue with your husband so you continued to walk with him. by the time you were back at the mercedes garage your husband was sopping wet and you were bone dry but toto was happy as ever, how couldn't he be? he had you by his side.

the next day you had decided to stay at your hotel for fp3 as your husband had kept you rather busy the night prior and you decided you wanted a little bit of a rest before the qualifying session. you had just gotten out of the shower when your phone buzzed with a phone call from your husband, one that you answered as soon as it popped up on your screen.

"schatz, the car is fast. we were first and second fastest"

"oh toto that is great love"

"i might be a little overzealous but i have a good feeling about this weekend. but that might just be because my good luck charm is in the paddock"

you laughed down the phone, "well dear i will be there in an hour to watch qualifying"

"okay honey, i love you"

"i love you too"

meanwhile both lewis and george had overheard toto's phone conversation with you and were giggling like school boys, "man he is so whipped", george spoke making lewis laugh.

"it is cute, they have been like this forever. when i joined merc they had been married a year and they were just as soppy now as they were then"

the drivers were just amazed as to how a man so intimidating could become a massive softie whenever it came to you.

your make up had taken a little longer than you had anticipated but there was no way you were going to miss the qualifying session so you had rushed getting ready and getting to the mercedes garage. in doing so you had managed to forget to tie your hair up. the wind in the paddock always made your hair go wild so whenever you attended a race you brought an ermegency hair band with you.

toto noticed that your hair was down as soon as you walked into the garage. you had been talking to carmen when toto had come up behind you and carded his fingers through your hair, carefully collecting it up into a neat ponytail while you continued you conversation. once satisfied with how your hair looked he kissed your shoulder, "i know that is how you like it my love", you thanked him already used to how doting your husband could be.

the qualifying session had been one of the best that you had seen. and the smile on your husband's face warmed your heart, there was just something so nice about watching toto wholeheartedly enjoy his job. you had been by his side through it all. you had been married to him for one year when he became the team principle of mercedes, so you had seen the highs and lows of the job. you had been the one to comfort toto when the news of lewis signing to ferrari hit. you were always there to help him pick up the pieces so it was nice to get to see the good parts of his job and how happy it made your husband.

"love come here", toto had spoken once the session was over and you did as you had been asked making your way over to where toto was sat at a desk with his laptop in front of him. he pulled you to sit in his lap. he then showed you all of the lap times thinking out loud about the possible strategies they could use in the race to maintain lap times like that. you didn't properly understand the things that he was saying but you didn't care you could listen to his voice forever and you knew that talking things out loud was how he worked best and you were more than willing to be the person that he spoke to.

the actual race had been the most thrilling one that you had ever been to. it had been complete emotional whiplash watching three british drivers fight tooth and nail for a home win. you had gotten worried when george dnf'd as the chances of a mercedes win had halved but you did not let your face show it. you just kept your eyes glued to the screens in the garage, occasionally glancing at your husband in race mode just to check in and make sure that he was not over thinking. when lewis took the lead you began to chew on your lip, just hoping that this was it. that lewis was going to win a race. and when his car crossed that finish line you burst out into a cheer, the brightest smile on your lips.

you were celbrating with a few of the engineers that you knew really well when toto ran over to you he hugged you tightly pulling your feet off the ground for a moment before placing you back down just so he could kiss you, "i have to go to the podium but i had to see you first my love", he spoke before his assistant dragged him away and towards the podium.

leaving you stood there watching him. the proudest wife in the entire world.

#f1 x reader #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 smut #toto wolff fluff #toto wolff x reader #toto wolff #mercedes f1 #formula one #formula 1 #mercedes amg f1 #mercedes amg petronas

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despacito-uwu16 · 3 months ago

Text

The Rising Action

Kenji Sato x Journalist! Reader

Enemies To Lovers | Foced Proximity | Pining

<- prev next ->

“Hit me like a poisonous dart. You were trouble right from the start. Should’ve ran I guess that’s my fault”. - I do by G-IDLE

⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺

“Ken Sato has received a 3rd strike. One wonders, how hard is it to hit a small ball, I bet a one-eyed zombie could hit a ball better than he can”. You say into your recorder.

“Wow, you are harsh”. Ami says as you end your recording.

“It’s called being honest. I report what I see”. You reminded her. “I mean have you seen the way he played today”?

“Yes Y/N, we’ve been watching the same game. But it got me thinking. When I interviewed Ken, he refused to talk about his family. He refuses to show vulnerability. It’s like he’s wearing some sort of mask. Something is going on with him, and when I know something, I don’t let go”. Said Ami.

“Wow, you are very determined”.

“At least get to know him before you start roasting him”. Ami suggested.

“Note taken”. You lied.

After graduating college, you were hired as an intern at the Los Angeles Magazine. You would stay at the office after midnight to revise and edit articles for other reporters. Eventually, your boss gave you your first assignment. Coincidentally, at a baseball game. You took in every detail of every player, noting all of the small mistakes and flaws of the games. Everyone looked like they didn’t know how to play, much to your disappointment. But it made juicy material for you.

That night, you were writing like you were running out of time. The article you wrote was on some of the players and their failures. The morning after, you got called in to the editor’s office. At first you thought you were about to get fired, but your surprise, he complimented on your writing style, asking you to cover another baseball game. Eventually, you got promoted to journalist within 6 months of working there, naming you the youngest journalist in the field. A year and a half later, you were offered a job at the International Review Journal. They pay twice as much as the last salary and you get to travel for your job. It didn’t take too long for you to accept it, and the next thing you knew, you were on your way to make your mark in the world.

Everywhere you went, your words impacted people and the way they perceive their favorite athletes. All of the readers love you, while the athletes feared and hated you. You didn’t care for the love and hate. What matters is you were unstoppable.

Now here you are in Tokyo, Japan watching the Ken Sato struggle. You felt bad that the Giants were on a loosing streak, but you didn’t feel bad for Ken. It was his ego that brought him here after all. You leaned back in your chair with your recorder in your hand, while watching Ken having a temper tantrum in front of his coach.

As you walked out of the stadium, you were fishing out your car keys when you realized something was missing in your bag.

“Where’s my recorder”?

Panic starts to settle in as you looked through your tote bag.

“Looking for this”?

You turn around to see Ken Sato, waving your recording device in front of you.

“Well, if it isn’t the walking loosing streak. I would say great game, but let’s face it, i’ve seen better”. You sneered.

“Y/N L/N, the pain in my ass, Let me guess, obsessing with me as usual”? He asks

“I’m not obsessed with you, and even if I were, I would rather launch myself out of Tokyo on a ten foot pole than fan girl over a baseball fuck up”. You rolled your eyes.

“You have really creative comments Y/N. I think my favorite one has to be when you called me the hare who couldn’t beat the tortoise. But slower and more stupider”. He laughs.

“I also noticed that I’m the only person mentioned in your commentary. Am I just a cover for the fact that you know nothing about baseball”?

“Of course I know everything about baseball. I just like taking notes on the most notable failures in baseball history”. You scoffed

He lets out a laugh that still annoys you to this day. “It’s nice to know I have a fan”.

“Once again, the only person obsessed with you is you”. You retorted.

“Says the person who followed me all the way here from California”. He tossed your recorder to you. “I’ve read some of your stuff online. Judging by your writing style, you should consider a career in fanfiction writing instead of sports journalism”.

“Fuck off Ken”. You said.

While he turned around to walk away, you gave him the middle finger, and he stuck up his in return.

You rolled your eyes as you got into your car.

“What an asshole. And for the record, I was here first”. You aggressively push your car key into the ignition.

You were back in your apartment, editing your article on your gray velvet couch. You took a sip of your pineapple smoothie as you reread the last paragraph you’ve just written.

“Ken Sato, “the best living player”, is now the best living curse. From being on cloud 9 to falling into the pits of underworld, he might as well drag the giants along with him. Tread carefully Sato, consider yourself a dead man walking. If looks could kill, we wouldn’t be Coach Shimura”.

Is this considered slander? Possibly. But to you, it’s called journalism. And the best part of the job is the chaos it causes post-publish.

After rereading and editing, you hit publish. You sat back and watched as the likes and views came in.

Later that night, you were celebrating the success of your latest article, alone. You downed the last of your dirty shirley, feeling content with yourself and the hard work you’ve put in. You were about to ask for the bill, when the bartender placed a martini in front of you.

“I didn’t order this”. You look up at the bartender confused.

“It came from the gentleman in the black blazer”. He points to the man sitting at the end of the bar.

You look over with curiosity to see the man sitting at the end of the bar. Only to be disappointed when you realized the guy was Ken. He got up and walks up to you.

You glare at Ken as he approached you. “What do you want”?

“Can’t a man treat a cute girl to a drink”? He takes a seat next you.

You’ve been down this road before. After you publish an article, the athletes either bombards you with threatening emails or bribe you with money or expensive gifts. Either way, it didn’t faze you.

“If this is about the article, I’m not taking it down or tweaking it to your liking”.

“I usually don’t give a shit about what you personally think of me. However, my career is on the line because of you”. He said, his onyx eyes giving you the death stare.

“Awww, it’s not my fault the world thinks you suck. Go cry about it”. You roll your eyes.

“I’m not begging for you to delete the article. Instead, I’m offering you an opportunity”. Kenji proposes.

You turn your body towards him. “Go on”.

“You come live with me for the next two months, get the Kenji exclusive. You get to ask any question, and you get to follow me around. It’ll make great coverage for the sports magazine”. He leans back in his chair.

“Okay and why would I want to live with you”? You scoff.

Kenji smirks. “You can decline the once in a lifetime opportunity to do this interview, or I can tell everyone about our little escapade during college”.

You glared at him. “Excuse me”?

“Imagine if people found out that Ken Sato, a baseball legend and Y/N L/N, his biggest hater had a one night stand during our junior year. That would seriously affect your following and your career, wouldn’t it”? Kenji condescends, leaving you completely disgusted.

“You’re not the only one who can play dirty Y/N”. He smirks.

Of all the annoying things Kenji does, one thing you did not expect from him is to straight out blackmail you. Another is the fact that he’s right. If people found out you slept with an athlete, you can kiss your promotion goodbye. For once, you were backed into a corner, and there was nothing you could do or say to save yourself. Swallowing your pride, you decided to take the defeat.

“Fine. I’ll come shadow you”. You surrendered reluctantly.

Kenji smiles from ear to ear.

“But if you pull some shady shit on me, I’m ending it”. You threatened.

“Won’t be a problem”. Kenji pulls out a pen and writes something down on a napkin.

“Here’s the address to my house. Arrive at my place on Sunday at 9 am sharp”. He hands you the napkin and hands some cash to the bar tender.

“I look forward to this interview Y/N”. He winks at you as he leaves the bar. You sunk in your seat appalled.

“What the fuck did I just agree to”?

Likes, Comments and Reblogs are always appreciated :)

Tag list:

@imconfusedbutok @deadbydad-writes

@introvertthief @rdjsprincess

@boomboom-tanjiro2019 @moyadorogaya

@holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni @lovingyeet

@ofichan @nina-from-317

@lunaryasha @kocho-catt

@scarasw1f3 @mochminnie

@ritzes28 @aise-30

@ghostatrixx @aphroditis-world

@levi-09 @marshhbs

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fluentmoviequoter · 5 months ago

Text

Truth Serum

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!cop!reader

Summary: While searching for an abducted child, you and Tim are abducted and injected with truth serum.

Warnings: fluff, angst, child abduction, drugging, Tim and reader make out while working

Word Count: 2.6k+ words

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

“Bradford,” Wade calls over the radio. “We got an anonymous tip about the AMBER alert. The caller said a car matching the alert description was parked outside the Los Angeles Memorial Sports Arena.”

“We’re responding,” Tim replies. “Why the arena?” he asks you.

“It wouldn’t be very busy this time of day. Stay low there until there’s a crowd tonight and disappear with them,” you hypothesize. “Or something happened, and they had to stop.”

Tim nods as he turns on the shop’s lights. He doesn’t want to alert the abductor that the police are coming, but he needs to get there fast. Once you find the car, you’re a step closer to recovering the kidnapped child. The AMBER alert is several hours old, and the longer it takes, the more your chances of finding the child healthy and alive diminish.

“Take the next left,” you tell Tim. “If we can get in the back way, they shouldn’t see us coming.”

Tim takes your advice without argument, which surprises you. Calls with kids are some of the hardest, but when you know one’s in danger, everything changes. Part of what makes Tim such a good cop is his ability to separate his emotions, but the moment you got the AMBER alert notification, he tightened his grip on the wheel and told dispatch to let you and him patrol for the car.

“There it is,” Tim murmurs as he stops behind a partial wall in the parking lot.

The silver sedan you’ve spent the morning hunting for waits in a parking spot as if it’s just a normal day. You can’t see signs of anyone in the car, and Tim opens his door quietly and steps out. As you open your door, you notice something under the sedan less than 100 yards from you.

“Tim, it’s a trap,” you say quickly.

He turns toward you and gestures for you to get back in the car, but the car explodes, and you’re slung back against the shop before you take another step. You reach toward Tim where he lays behind you, but a booted foot kicks your hand away.

“Time to serve and protect,” the man standing above you says.

He drops a wet rag on your face, and you lose consciousness before you realize it’s not water.

“Hey, c’mon,” Tim whispers.

He jostles your wrist with his fingertips as he demands you talk to him. When you realize that he’s asking for a response, you squeeze your eyes closed and grunt. Tim takes it as enough of a sign that you’re still alive and stops talking.

“Where are we?” you ask, blinking slowly. “Are you tied up?”

“Welcome back,” Tim murmurs grumpily. “You don’t handle chloroform very well.”

“My bad,” you reply sarcastically. “Have they been back?”

“No.”

“How mad are you?”

Tim makes a sound that you take as a sign to stop talking. For someone so eager to hear your voice a moment ago, your questions changed his mind quickly. Behind you, metal scrapes as a door opens. You hear heavy footsteps and assume that it’s the man who knocked you out.

“Glad to see you’re both feeling better. Need those minds as sharp and clear as we can get them,” he says. “I’m George.”

“And I’m the man in yellow,” you reply under your breath.

“Cute,” George murmurs. “You’re just here to help. If you found the car, you know about the kid.”

“The kid you abducted?” Tim asks.

“Details, details… Either you start telling me what you know, or I beat it out of your friend here.”

Tim’s fingers press against your wrist as he flexes beneath his restraints. George laughs, and you turn your neck painfully in an attempt to see him.

“You’ll get a turn,” George promises when he notices your movement. “If neither of you is feeling talkative, perhaps you need some courage.”

George walks around Tim, and you track him as he stops before you. He’s larger than he seemed in the parking lot. As he smiles down at you, you relax. If he thinks you’re intimidated, he has you where he wants you.

“Do you want to tell me anything?” George asks.

“Your right boot is scuffed,” you answer. “Little saddle soap would buff it right out.”

George clenches his jaw as he reaches into his pocket. He withdraws a syringe, and your eyes widen as you push back against the chair you’re tied to. His smile grows as he reaches for your forearm.

“Don’t,” you demand. “Don’t touch me.”

Tim moves behind you, but there’s nothing he can do to help.

“Don’t worry, Officer Bradford,” George calls. “You’ll get a turn too.”

George slides the needle under your skin and looks directly into your eyes as he depresses the syringe. He pulls the used needle out and tosses it into the corner of the room. After he pats your arm, he returns to Tim’s side.

“What was that? What is it?” you demand, pulling against your restraints.

A bead of blood appears on the surface of the skin. Tim is likely being injected too, but you need to know what George is pumping into you.

“Back up,” Tim growls from behind you.

“Gladly,” George answers. “To answer your question, sodium thiopental. Enjoy the next few minutes of control.”

As the door slams behind George, you exclaim, “Truth serum?”

“It doesn’t work,” Tim says.

“Yeah,” you agree. “But this idiot doesn’t know that.”

“And you want to pretend it does?” Tim questions. “For what?”

“He gets fed up and tells us what he knows… I hope.”

Tim hums and his fingers press against your skin. “Let’s try it.”

“Hello again,” George says as he returns.

“Hi,” you blurt out.

“So glad to hear some excitement. We’ll start easy. Why are you here?”

“Because we’re cops and someone said the AMBER alert car was here,” Tim answers.

“Oh, so grumpy does speak,” George muses happily. “In that case...”

George grabs the side of your chair and spins it quickly. You’re beside Tim now; his arm is pressed to yours and you can look at him without straining. The plan is working already.

“Glad you’re okay,” Tim tells you.

“Not the truth we’re looking for,” George interrupts. “Tell me, what do the police think?”

“Lots of things,” you answer. “You-“ you interrupt yourself off with a giggle – “you have to be more specific.”

“Where do they think the kid is?” George clarifies.

“With the bad guy,” Tim says. “The guy who drives the silver sedan… Did you steal it?”

“Do they have a name, a face? Who is the suspect?” George is getting agitated, exactly as you hoped.

“A face...” you repeat. You look toward Tim and say, “You… you have the prettiest face ever. I want to marry you.”

Tim takes the confession in stride, likely assuming that you’re still playing I’m high on sodium thiopental.

“You’re the best partner I’ve ever had,” Tim replies, leaning toward you.

“Listen!” George demands. He places his hand over your jaw to direct your face toward his. “Where is the kid?”

“The kid?” you ask, your voice distorted by his grip on your face.

“Mmhmm. Where did they take him?”

George releases your face, and you stretch your jaw out as you turn toward Tim.

“Kids… Tim, I want to have your babies. You’d have pretty babies. And smart babies.”

Tim nods along, but there’s a faraway look in his eyes that you don’t recognize. He’s either playing up the truth serum bit, or something else is happening. George slaps the side of your face before he storms out of the room. You smile at Tim, despite the deepening hand print covering your jaw.

“Pretty and smart babies?” Tim asks.

“You weren’t giving me anything to work with,” you point out with a shrug.

“I like listening.”

“Well, it is truth serum,” you murmur.

When George returns, he shoves a picture in your face.

“My son, where did they take him?” he demands.

“Son?” you and Tim ask together.

“Oh!” you exclaim when you see the picture. “George, listen, we can help. But you have to let us go.”

“Why would I do that? You people are the reason he’s gone!”

“George,” you repeat softly. “We know that the man who reported his abduction is really his stepfather, and half of the LAPD is looking for your son, but we don’t know where he is yet.”

“He never would’ve disappeared if you hadn’t taken him away from me!”

“Then let me help,” you implore.

George stares at you for a few seconds before he nods. He cuts your restraints and steps back as you stand. You pull Tim’s handcuffs from his belt as you move, just in case.

“Let’s go,” he commands.

You shake your head and point to Tim. “Both of us.”

“No,” George answers. “Help me and I’ll let you come back to get him later. We’re going.”

George grabs your arm and shoves you harshly toward the door. You could fight back, but without Tim to back you up, it would go poorly fast.

“Tim, I’ll be back,” you promise.

“Be careful,” he mouths silently.

You nod and hold his eyes until the door closes. As you follow George through the underground tunnel, you watch him closely.

“Dad!” someone yells deeper in the tunnel.

“George,” you say lowly. “What did you do?”

“He’s my son!” George bellows.

He turns toward you with your gun aimed at your chest. You raise your hands and maintain eye contact with him.

“This doesn’t end well for you,” you tell him. “What was the goal?”

“His stepdad is looking for him,” George explains. “I can’t lose my son again.”

“So… what?”

“You would bring him here, lure that monster here, and I would save my son!”

“George, it doesn’t work like that. You kill his stepdad, you injure me or my partner, and you go to prison. So that little boy in there still loses you. You’re stuck, George.”

“No!” he yells. “No, I have the gun and my son.”

“And when you have to run? You drag him with you?”

“I- we-“

“You didn’t think that far?” you guess. “You don’t get out of this, George. Not like this.”

“Dad!” his son yells again.

“He needs you right now. If you let me go, surrender, and return that little boy to his mother-“

“The court takes him again.”

“But you still get to see him. What’s better, George? Taking him from everything he loves or seeing him when it’s good for him?”

The gun falters in George’s hand, and when he begins to lower it, you surge forward. As your shoulder collides with his chest, you pull your gun from his grip. It fires into the tunnel as you wrestle George to the ground. The moment you push him to the concrete and secure your cuffs on him, George begins crying.

“Save the tears for your court date,” you respond. “Where’s my radio? My phone?”

George shakes his head, and you sigh in exasperation. You pull his shoulders to help him into a seated position against the concrete wall.

“Stay here,” you demand. George nods vehemently, and you ask, “Where’s your son?”

“Third door on the left,” he answers through sniffles.

You walk to the third door and open it carefully. The little boy runs to you and hugs your legs as he rambles about how his father took him from his mom’s house and won’t tell him anything.

“It’s okay, buddy,” you assure him. “Here, can you hold my handcuffs? I need someone to keep them ready until I come back.”

He nods and accepts the handcuffs. As he sits on the thin mattress behind him and toys with the mechanical lock, you return to the main tunnel. George doesn’t speak as you pass him, nor when you take the knife from his side.

You open the door to the room where Tim is waiting and step inside. He looks up quickly and blows out a large breath. His jaw tightens quickly, and you notice blood running down his left hand.

“George is in cuffs outside,” you say. You squat before Tim and begin cutting his restraints. “And his son is fine. Babysitting your cuffs at the moment.”

You set the knife aside and focus on gently freeing Tim's bloodied wrist, oblivious to how he watches you. His skin has been scraped raw from tugging against the rope to get out and get to you. He heard the gunshot and assumed the worst, then you came in like nothing happened.

The moment Tim is free, you stand and offer a hand to him. Tim knocks your hand out of the way as he stands. You begin to ask him if he’s okay, but his hands rise to your shoulders, his thumbs against the pillar of your neck. Before you finish the question, Tim presses himself closer to you and kisses you. You blink in surprise but melt into his affection quickly. As you slide your arms over his shoulder and move with Tim, you wonder how much of his action is adrenaline and if there’s anything in this that he means.

“Officer?” George’s son calls down the tunnel.

You step back and Tim drops his hands to your waist.

“That was…” you begin.

“Truth serum,” Tim finishes. “Let’s go.”

He brushes past you, trailing his right hand over your waist. Outside, he leads George out as you carry his son back into the sunlight. The young boy clings to you, and you comfort him as Tim uses the radio in the shop to alert dispatch and request backup.

“Where’s our stuff?” Tim asks George as he shoves him against the dented back door.

“Threw it in here,” George mumbles against the glass.

“He may be a kidnapper, but he’s no thief,” you murmur.

“You see those dents?” Tim asks lowly, so George’s son doesn’t hear. “Those were made when you tried to kill two cops. All of this for a little boy you’re never going to see again.”

George begins crying again, and Tim rolls his eyes as he looks away. Tim may be good at hiding his emotions on the job, but you know better than anyone that he still feels them and feels them deeply.

The first of many patrol cars pulls into the parking lot, and you nod at Tim before you’re pulled away in the hectic moments that follow your heroic recovery.

You knock on the door once, then pull your hands behind your back. Part of you expects that the door will remain closed, but Kojo barks as Tim opens the door.

“Hi,” you greet, rocking back on your heels. “I- uh- I just wanted to thank you for everything today.”

“Come in,” Tim invites.

You walk past him, remembering what it felt like to have his hands on you and his lips against yours. As you turn back to Tim, he steps into your space.

“Was any of it true?” he asks.

“It’s called truth serum for a reason,” you whisper.

Tim fails to hide his smile as he says, “Then you think I have a pretty face?”

“The prettiest ever,” you agree.

“And you want to have my babies.”

“I’m pretty sure I said I wanted to get married first,” you point out happily.

Tim’s hands raise toward your face, but he stops when he sees the bruise along your jaw. You catch his left arm and kiss his bandage, the injury underneath caused by concern for you.

“I was going to say I love you,” you murmur. “But I didn’t think you’d believe me.”

“It’s truth serum. I wanted to believe it all,” Tim answers.

“Then kiss me again,” you request softly.

Tim does exactly as you ask, takes your face gently between his hands, and kisses you. It’s just as shocking and enlivening as the first time, and you smile against his lips because it was true. It was all true.

#tim bradford x reader #tim bradford fluff #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford #tim bradford x y/n #tim bradford fic #tim bradford x you #the rookie #the rookie x reader #the rookie abc #fem!reader #hanna writes✯

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hometoursandotherstuff · 5 months ago

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1926 Mediterranean style home is stunning. It really has the wow factor. Located in Los Angeles, CA, it 4bds, 4ba, and is $2.75M. But, it's kind of worth it.

This living room, (and there are several sitting rooms), has a lovely bay window with a window seat flanked by 2 built-in shelving units. It shares space with the dining area.

The dining area is right outside the kitchen.

That's the everyday dining area. On the other side of the kitchen there's a more formal dining room with a lovely window, wainscoting, and a built-in sideboard.

And, what a kitchen! The house was built in 1926, so this is the original Art Deco kitchen. Original Art Deco light fixtures and look at the original floor.

What a cool table and banquette. It looks like one in a retro soda shop.

Here's another beautiful sitting room with a fireplace.

Look at this- on the stair landing, there a little loft.

This is interesting- a home office with a door that lets them enter from the little area on the landing by the loft.

The primary bedroom has an incredible Art Deco fireplace- look at the curved wood. Plus, there's a niche over it, too.

The rest of the room has wood clad walls.

Check out this completely original Art deco tile bath. Is that a tile missing on the corner of the sink? Looks like some green tiles were also replaced. The mirror is magnificent.

This is a nice room. Look at the shelf on the left. It's like a sun room.

Nice bedroom off the sun room. It gets a lot of natural light, too.

The sink, tub, tile, and medicine cabinet look original in here.

Very nice large bedroom with built-in shelves under the windows.

Another original bath, but I wonder what's going on with the pink tile around the bottom.

Downstairs, they have a cute Art Deco bar. Look at the wood.

Beautiful architectural detail. This house better be well-secured, b/c anyone can walk in and raid this bar, since it's outside.

Love the greenery and the ivy on the house.

Beautiful grounds on a 3,467 sq ft lot .

The 2 car garage comes with a lift to fit a 3rd car.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/6740-Milner-Rd-Los-Angeles-CA-90068/20803855_zpid/

#mediterranean style homes #art deco homes #houses #house tours #home tour

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reasonsforhope · 10 months ago

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"Pro-Palestinian protesters briefly blocked entrance roads to airports in New York and Los Angeles on Wednesday [December 27, 2023], snarling traffic as U.S. airlines contended with a rush of holiday travel.

The demonstrations stopped cars on the outskirts of New York’s John F. Kennedy International Airport, where some travelers set off on foot to bypass the jammed roadway, as well as Los Angeles International Airport. A total of 62 people were arrested during the two protests, police said.

In New York, activists locked arms and held banners demanding an end to the Israel-Hamas war and expanded rights for Palestinians, bringing traffic to a standstill on the Van Wyck Expressway leading up to the airport for about 20 minutes.

Video posted to social media showed passengers, some carrying suitcases, leaving vehicles behind and stepping over barriers onto the highway median.

Twenty-six people in the protest were arrested for disorderly conduct and impeding vehicular traffic, and the Port Authority of New York and New Jersey dispatched two buses to help travelers caught in the backup reach the airport, agency spokesperson Steve Burns said.

Around the same time as the New York protest, a major thoroughfare leading to the Los Angeles airport was shut down by another group of pro-Palestinian protesters, who dragged traffic cones, trash bins, scooters and debris into the lanes, according to news helicopter footage.

In a statement, the Los Angeles Police Department accused protesters of throwing a police officer to the ground and “attacking uninvolved passerbys in their vehicles,” without providing further details about either incident.

The group appeared to flee when police arrived, though the Los Angeles Police Department said traffic around the airport remained impacted roughly two hours after the demonstration was declared unlawful.

A spokesperson for the LAPD said 35 people were arrested for rioting and one person was arrested for battery of a police officer. No officers were injured, according to the spokesperson. An estimated 215,000 passengers and 87,000 vehicles were expected to pass through the Los Angeles airport on Wednesday.

Since the Israel-Hamas war erupted on Oct. 7, near nightly protests have broken out in cities across the United States. In New York, pro-Palestinian organizers have responded to the growing death toll in Gaza with escalating actions aimed at disrupting some of the city’s best-known events, including the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade and the annual tree-lighting ceremony at Rockefeller Center."

-via AP, December 27, 2023

#palestine #gaza #free gaza #palestinian genocide #current events #free palestine #israel #israel palestine conflict #los angeles #new york #california #new york city #protests #hope

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translatemunson · 6 months ago

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the tortured firefighters department • evan "buck" buckley

series summary: Each year, 240 million calls are made to the 9-1-1 in the United States. For the Los Angeles County Fire Department, it averages 1,200 calls a day. You could do the math and lay down all the probabilities of crossing the country all the way to the sunny — and full of catastrophes — L.A. for a PhD and ending up in a new 9-1-1 call center. But you could never solve the Buckley problem in front of you.

this is a evan "buck" buckley x fem!reader series

warnings: fem!reader, afab!reader, no specific details about reader appearance are given (lmk if i let something slip), slight divergence from the 9-1-1 tv show timeline (hey, it's a fanfic, i can do whatever i want), mentions of violence, mentions of disasters, mentions of medical conditions, mental issues themes. more specific warnings will be provided at each chapter.

chapters

chapter one — devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes

chapter two — we play dumb but we know exactly what we’re doing

chapter three — these days I'm restless, work days are endless

chapter four — thought of calling you, but you won't pick up

chapter five — when my depression works the graveyard shift

chapter six — it always ends up with a town car speeding

chapter seven — don’t you dare look out the window, darling, everything’s on fire

chapter eight — cat and mouse for a month or two or three

more chapters to be announced

blurbs

blurb — you’ve been calling my bluff on all my usual tricks (takes place between the events of chapter two and three)

blurb (requested) — touch me and you'll never be alone (you need to read chapter six to understand it)

special content:

spotify playlist by the lovely @live-love-be-unique HERE

series note: i have planned out a timeline for the series, which means we are getting a lot of development for them (so reading chapters with a number is required if you wanna understand the series). BUT i'm also open to take suggestions of what you wanna see (maybe it's a scene, maybe you saw this prompt and think it matches the TTFD vibes), so please don't be shy and send me your ideas and suggestions via askbox or dms.

author's note: hi guys! first of all, english is not my first language and, even though i'm a writer in my mother language, i still struggle to put ideas on paper in english. so bear with me and my mistakes, ok? new obsession, new fic, ofc. wanted to explore a reader that is not just a dispatcher, but also have some things inspired by my own hobbies and struggles.

banners credits to @cafekitsune

#effie writes #evan buckley fanfic #evan buckley #evan buckley x reader #evan buckley x you #9 1 1 abc #9 1 1 fanfiction #evan buck buckely #buck fanfiction #evan buckley imagine

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hwbcarwash · 12 days ago

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Discover the Best Car Detailing in Los Angeles & Burbank at HWB Car Wash

Experience the best car detailing los angeles burbank with HWB Car Wash. From deep cleaning to paint protection, we provide top-tier services that keep your car in pristine condition. Trust our experts to deliver outstanding results every time.

#best car detailing los angeles burbank

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pinksturniolo · 8 months ago

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Biggest Fan: Part Three

Chris Sturniolo x Fem Reader

Summary: The one in which a fan gets rear ended in a car accident by none other than Christopher Sturniolo during her stay in Los Angeles.

A/N: This is my first series I will be publishing on here! There will most likely be 3 or 4 parts. I hope you like it and I’m really excited to share with you all. :)

Content Warnings: smut, oral receiving/giving, fingering, raw penetration, swearing, throat fucking, bondage (if you are not comfortable with that please don’t read), mentions of a head injuries, mentions of a car accident

word count: 4,423

side note: sorry for the long wait!! it was a crazy day lol but here it is <3

inspired by this song:

You ended up needing three stitches.

Apparently, you had underestimated the cut on your forehead and if it wasn’t for Isabel, you would’ve just left it with the bandage Chris had put on for you. After you left the triplets house, she insisted that you go to an urgent care and get it checked out. You explained the details of the whole night to her, starting from when you left your hotel room to get Wendy’s up until the moment Matt knocked on Chris’ door.

“Holy shit. Our first night in L.A. and you manage to get in a car accident with Chris Sturniolo which ends up in him eating you out? What kind of black magic have you been doing?” Isabel jokes as you look out the car window, avoiding eye contact with her. You were on the way back to your hotel after leaving the urgent care. You groan, covering your face with your hands in embarrassment. “Let’s never talk about this again, please.” You reply.

At the same time, your phone rings, Chris’ name flashing across the screen. Your heart immediately jumps, and you look at Isabel in fear, showing her the name.

“Oh my god. Answer it!” She says, her eyes wide, glancing at you and to the road, trying to focus on driving.

“Fuck no! I cannot talk to him right now… How did he even get my number?” You wonder aloud. The call goes to voicemail and almost immediately after, you receive 2 text messages from him.

Hey. I got your number from Matt. Just wanted to make sure you’re good.

He called the tow place so they could get your tire fixed and take it to your hotel. Lmk when they drop it off.

You read the messages but don’t reply, putting your phone back down and leaning back in your seat. Exhaustion was beginning to set in. You hadn’t slept in almost 24 hours. “Why didn’t you answer?” Isabel asks.

“It’s not that I don’t want to talk to him… I just feel utterly mortified from what happened. It was an amazing night, don’t get me wrong. He’s cool as fuck. I guess I’m just being insecure, but I feel embarrassed about it. It’s not like me to do one-night stands. What if he just regrets it?” You tell her, really starting to question everything that happened last night.

“Y/N. Stop. You seriously need to get out of your head and give yourself some credit. He’s obviously interested in you if he’s calling and texting you. You’re hot okay. Any guy would want you.” She says, making you smile.

“Besides, we came to L.A. for a reason, right? To let loose and have fun. This is best case scenario Y/N, might as well make the most of it.” She adds, turning into the hotel parking lot.

Isabel was one your best friends, one of the reasons being she always gave the best advice and knew what you needed to hear while not sugar coating anything. You had always appreciated her for that. She parks and you both unbuckle your seatbelts, grabbing your things and getting out of the car. “You know what, you’re right. I need to stop overthinking things so much.” You say as you walk into the hotel lobby, getting into the elevator. She smiles at you and gives you a hug. “Exactly.” She replies. You both head to your rooms and once you hit the bed, you knock out, unable to keep your eyes open for one more second.

When you finally wake up, it’s 6 p.m., the sun starting to set outside. You had slept the whole day. You yawn and stretch, getting out of your bed and heading to the shower so you could wake up.

You still have Chris’ clothes on and can smell the scent of his cologne lingering as you take them off. You remember that your wet clothes are still in a pile on his bathroom floor, silently cursing to yourself for forgetting them there. Now you had a reason to see him again.

You decide to go wash his clothes at the hotel laundry mat once you finish in the shower. You still haven’t called or texted him back, a feeling of guilt washing over you. You know that you should, but you just can’t bring yourself to do it yet. What were you so afraid of?

You were afraid of how good it felt being with him. The connection you felt scared you and you hadn’t even gone all the way with him. But you couldn’t get him out of your head. Last night played over and over in your head like a broken record.

The way he made you laugh. The lustful look in his eyes. The feeling of his hands gripping your waist. The way his lips felt on your neck. The feeling of his hair tickling the insides of your thighs as he licked and sucked and fingered you until you were whimpering his name. The way his voice sounded…

“Anything to get you in bed next to me, princess.”

“You look so pretty like this.”

“Cum for me sweetheart.”

His words played repeatedly in your head as you lay in your bed, a movie playing on the tv, but you couldn’t pay attention. All you could think about was him. You burned a hole into your phone as you stared at it.

Stop being a pussy. Just call him. You think, picking up your phone and dialing his number.

Your heart races as it rings, and you almost change your mind and hang up at the last minute when he finally picks up. “Y/N?” He says. “Hey.” You respond, the cheesiest grin appearing on your face the minute you hear him say your name.

“I was starting to think you ghosted me.”

“Well, I actually was until I remembered you still have my clothes and I have yours.”

“Funny joke. I washed your clothes earlier, you can come get them anytime. Unless you want me to bring them to you?”

“Uh… I’ll let you know. Me and my friends planned a hiking trip for tomorrow.”

“…. Okay. No worries. Hey, did you get your car back?”

“Yes, I did. Thank you so much for that, and please tell Nick and Matt thank you for me as well.”

“Of course. How’s the cut?”

“I actually ended up going to urgent care and getting three stitches. But they were pretty small, it was no big deal.”

“Damn. I’m sorry, Y/N. I knew we should’ve called the ambulance.”

“Chris, it’s okay, I promise. How’s the Kia? I was too in shock to even ask last night.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it. The bumper is a little messed up and one of the lights broke but I think your car ended up taking most of the damage… Sorry again.”

“Well at least it’s not worse. You do owe me a frosty though.”

“Hm, I would argue a McFlurry makes up for it way better.”

You and Chris end up talking and laughing almost the whole night about anything and everything. Everything except the things that occurred in his bed. You’re too hesitant to bring it up and he seems to take the hint, not mentioning it either.

The next day, you and your friends take a trip up to Big Bear, hiking for most of the day. You enjoy the views and spending time with them. You still can’t help but realize that you’re not a hundred percent in the moment, counting the minutes until you could get back to the city and talk to Chris again.

Chris’ mind hadn’t stopped racing since the morning you left his house. His heart ached as he watched your friend drive off with you in the passenger seat, feeling like a love drunk fool.

He immediately asked Matt for your number from when you had exchanged information after the accident, a knowing look in his eye when he gave it to him. “Gonna ask her on a date or what?” Matt teased him, which he ignored completely.

“Don’t pretend like I didn’t hear some interesting noises coming from your room last night!” He shouts as Chris runs downstairs to be alone in his room.

His heart sank when you didn’t answer his call and he chalked it up to the fact that you were probably just tired and needed sleep. Which he desperately needed as well but he couldn’t help and wait for you to text or call him back as he made himself busy, cleaning up his room and washing your clothes when he found them still lying on his bathroom floor.

After a couple hours passed though, he lost hope of getting your phone call and finally laid down, deciding he should get some rest. He tossed and turned for a while though, unable to get the memory of last night out of his head.

The look in your eyes when you told him to touch you. The way your lips felt on his, your hands in his hair. The sweet sounds you made as he tasted you. The way you clenched around his fingers as he made you orgasm, the way his name sounded as you screamed it.

Fuck. He was down bad and he knew it.

There was an infectious energy between you two and he craved more of it. He finally fell asleep thinking of you and when he woke up, the sun was setting.

Matt and Nick forced him to come out of his room and eat something. He talked with them for a while, avoiding mentioning you. He took a shower and was about to turn on a TV show to try and get his mind off you when you called. He couldn’t help the goofy smile that plastered his face as he answered, grateful to hear your voice again.

Hours later that night, when you and him had finally hung up, he already knew. It had only been a day, but he just knew he wanted more time with you, to take care of you in all the ways you deserved. When you told him you would be on a hiking trip the next day and wouldn’t have service to text him, he couldn’t ignore the way it made his heart sink.

He was falling for you, head over heels.

As soon as you got back to your hotel, you were exhausted and your feet ached. You took a shower and lay down, sending Chris a quick text message.

Hey :) Just got home, I think my feet might fall off lol. It was great though, I’ll send you pictures in the morning. Sorry I can’t talk tonight but call me when you wake up!

The next few days passed incredibly fast. Chris had to go to Boston unfortunately, but he told you he would be back the day before you left to go back home.

You and your friends spent time at the beach, walked the Hollywood Walk of Fame, danced at the club, and did all the things you had came to do. It truly was the best vacation you had been on.

You and Chris texted nonstop and stayed up talking on the phone when you could. He was one of the sweetest people you had met, and the more you got to know him, the more you wanted nothing but to spend every second with him. How could your feelings grow so strong in such a short time?

The night Chris came back home, you were in your hotel room, most of your belongings packed and ready to go. You were in your nicest set of silk pajamas, brushing your hair for the hundredth time as you waited for him to arrive.

You both agreed that he would come over with the clothes you left at his house, and you could give him his. But you both knew it was more than that. There was unfinished business, and as eager as you were to finish it, you were still a bit nervous.

Chris arrived a few minutes earlier then he said he would, a soft knock sounding at your door that summoned those damn butterflies again.

You took a deep breath, opening the door to reveal him there, cheeky smile as always, both of his arms resting on the door frame above him. He was wearing jeans and one of his fresh love t-shirts. Does this man ever not look good?

“Fancy seeing you here.” He says as you step aside, allowing him to walk in. You laugh, going over to grab his clothes for him.

He sets a bag with yours in it on the table in your room. As you go to hand the clothes to him, he doesn’t take them right away.

You hold it out awkwardly, an expectant look on your face as he raises his eyebrows at you. “Are you not gonna take them?” You ask, lowering your arms down.

“Is that it then?” He responds, giving you a look that has your heart starting to beat faster. “What do you mean?” You say, dragging it out longer. You couldn’t just jump his bones the minute he walked in, could you?

“Don’t play stupid with me, Y/N.” He speaks lowly, making your heart feel like it’s doing flips inside your chest. He pushes the clothes in your arms down to the floor and moves closer to you, now inches from your face.

“Do you know how crazy you drive me? I haven’t stopped thinking about you since you left.” He says quietly. You feel his breath across your lips as he moves even closer, smirking at the obvious effect he has on you, as a deep blush fans across your face. He places his hands on either side of your face, his thumbs stroking softly. “You have no idea of all the things I wanna do to you…” he breaths, his lips brushing yours. “Then show me.” You whisper.

He wastes no time placing his lips on yours as you kiss him back, your mouth opening to allow his tongue to tangle with yours as your arms go up to wrap around his neck. He moves his hands down to your hips as they slip under your thin shirt, the feeling of his hands on your bare skin giving you tingles down your spine. He slips his hands to your ass, squeezing tightly, making you moan in his mouth. “Jump.” He instructs and as you do, he picks you up, your legs wrapping around his waist.

He walks towards your bed, your lips still joined in a sloppy kiss, setting you down on it and hovering on top of you. You can’t control the moans that slip from your mouth as he leaves spongy, wet kisses down your neck and chest, removing your shirt and his in the process, and you allow your body to respond to his commands, and to his satisfaction he discovers you don’t have a bra on so he can leave more love bites on your breasts.

He takes his time sucking on them and rolling his tongue slowly over each of your nipples. You wrap your legs around his waist, feeling how hard he is, and you can’t help but buck your hips up into his, causing him to moan out, his mouth travelling back up to your neck which seems to be his favorite spot to kiss you.

He notices the hickeys he left on you the first night you spent together and smirks at you as he pulls his head up, whispering in your ear. “Do you like seeing my marks on you? Does it make you wet knowing that you’re all mine baby?” Fuck. This man will be the death of you.

“Yes, Chris.” You breath out, again bucking your hips up onto his rock hard dick currently straining through his jeans. He hums in satisfaction, grabbing your wrists in one hand and holding them above your head. “If you keep doing that, I’m not gonna last.” He warns, his fucked-out expression as he looks at you, making your already wet center soaking.

Of course, this makes you grind on him again, the feeling of it too good to stop. He grips your wrists tighter in his hand, undoing his belt and taking it off his jeans. He then wraps it around your wrists, belting them together tight enough to where you can’t move them but not too tight to where it’s uncomfortable for you.

“Is this okay?” he asks, pausing to look into your eyes, searching for any hesitation. “Yes.” You respond, your heart racing and pussy throbbing so much it almost hurts. “Promise? Just tell me to stop if you need me to.” He says, sliding your silk shorts down your legs, discarding them on the floor.

“Yes, I promise.” You say back, anticipating his next move. He bites his lips, his eyes taking in your naked body, your lace panties the only thing left. “So beautiful, princess. Just for me.” he whispers as if he’s saying it to himself, but you hear him and you think you just might pass out from how sweet it sounds.

He pulls you slightly down the bed, your hips on the edge as he leans down, knees hitting the floor, his head now level between your legs.

His blue eyes burn into yours as he wraps your thighs around his face and wastes no time pulling your panties aside to let his tongue slick through your wet folds, up and down, side to side on your clit and then back down to tease your entrance. You cry out loudly, throwing your head back and squeeze your thighs around his head relentlessly which only makes him hold you in place even tighter, ensuring you’ll have more bruises in the morning.

The position he has you in and the constriction of his belt around your wrists is enough to send you over the edge. The feeling is indescribable, and your whole body is ablaze with euphoria.

It doesn’t take long until you feel yourself close to an orgasm as he moans dirty words against you. “Fuck baby, I missed you. I touched myself so many times remembering how good you taste.” His voice sends deep vibrations through you. “Are you gonna cum for me princess? I want you to cum all over my tongue.”

He then grabs your hips, guiding them to thrust against his face as you ride his tongue. “Oh my God, yes Chris!” You scream, letting him use your body to get off on him. You cum hard, your body shaking as you continue to moan his name. He helps you ride it out, his hands gently rubbing your legs and thighs and he gets up to take the belt off, rubbing your wrists as well.

He kisses you softly as you catch your breath. You feel fueled by lust, the need to make him moan your name strong when you look him in the eyes, an idea popping into your head. “I want you fuck my throat.” You say, the surprise in his face makes you laugh but you’re serious as you sit up to unbutton his jeans and pull them down his legs.

“Yeah?” He responds, a playful fire in his eyes. “Mhm.” You hum, biting your lip and the innocent look in your eyes almost makes him lose it then and there. He stands up at the edge of the bed and you turn your body the opposite way, laying down flat so now your head hangs off the edge.

“Tap my thigh if you need me to stop, okay?” He says, his breathing heavy as he pulls his dick out of his boxers and from the view you currently have, it looks huge, veins running along his shaft and precum oozing out of the tip. He brings it to your mouth, and you open to wrap your lips around it, your tongue swirling around him teasingly. “Fuck…” He whimpers lowly, trying to contain himself as he slides it further slowly, your saliva coating him.

Your cheeks hollow around him and he pauses halfway, letting you adjust to him. He waits a few seconds before going deeper, brushing the back of your throat, making you slightly gag. He moans loudly at the feeling, which makes you hum around him. You are enjoying every minute of this.

He starts to slowly thrust himself down your throat, careful to pause every now and then when he feels you gag. But you quickly get used to it and reach up to grab his hand, motioning for him to continue. He picks up the pace, loud moans now leaving his mouth which only makes you wetter. “Fuuuuckk… Y/N. Feels so good.” He breathes out. He wants to cum down your throat so badly but at this point he needs to feel himself inside you more than he’s ever needed anything.

He pulls out and helps you back into an upright position on the bed, laying you down against the pillows. “Please tell me you’re on the pill.” He says, pulling your panties off and discarding them somewhere along with the pile of clothes forming on the floor. “Yes.” You respond, grateful you were because you wanted nothing more than to feel his bare skin against yours.

He takes your legs, spreading you open for him again and rubs his cock against your entrance teasingly. “Please, Chris. I need you.” You whimper, gripping his arms and wrapping your legs around his lower back. “No need to beg, sweetheart. You got me.” He responds as he pushes himself inside you.

You both moan in ecstasy at the feeling, your eyes rolling back as he continues to sink himself all the way into you. “God, Chris…” You say, a slight burning as you adjust to his size.

He groans loudy, thrusting into you slowly, the sight of your blissful expression and the way your tits bounce with each movement almost sending him over the edge. You meet his hips with yours each time, uncontrollable moans pouring out of you. “I love making you sound like this baby. Tell me only I can make you feel this good, Y/N.” He says, his breath shaky but his grip on your legs strong.

“Yes, Chris. Only you can do this to me. Feels so- ah- so gooood.” You respond, at this point ready to do anything he says. The feeling of him inside you is like no other. He moves harder and faster, hitting your g spot with each thrust.

You clench around him and he feels your wetness drip down his cock. The pleasure you give him is unmatched but the way he feels being close to you like this, your bodies becoming one has him in a state of bliss. He knows you’re close and wraps you tighter around him, his face falling to yours, one hand pressing into the mattress, the other hand pressing down slightly on your abdomen.

You cry out at the sensation, wrapping your arms around his neck and tugging his hair.

“Can you cum again for me baby? Please… I wanna fill you up while you scream my name.” He says, his hips slamming into you, pounding you over and over again. “Please baby. Please cum for me.” The needy sound in his voice and the pace of his thrusting brings you to your second orgasm, clenching around his cock and releasing all over him.

Your whimpers are swallowed by him as he kisses you, his orgasm shortly coming after yours, spilling himself inside you. You both gasp for air, completely spent, and he stays there for a few minutes, holding you as you both catch your breath.

Once you both have settled down, he grabs a damp towel and cleans you up. You lay together, Chris rubbing circles on your back as you hold him. “Goodnight, princess.” He whispers and you both drift off to a peaceful sleep.

The next morning you and Chris spend exploring each other’s bodies in every possible way in the time you have left before you have to check out of the hotel.

Under the sheets, he covers every inch of your body in kisses. In the shower, he fucks you up against the glass, pulling your wet hair from behind you. On the couch, you ride him until your legs shake, while he whimpers in your ear.

When it came time for you to leave, you tried not to cry but it was bittersweet. You and Chris had shared something special, and you both agreed there was more between you two then just amazing sex.

He made you promise to call and text him anytime you could, and the good thing was, your hometown was on the East Coast which would make it easier for you guys to meet up when he visited Boston.

And you kept your promises while he kept his, each time you got to see each other was better than the last. You couldn’t get enough of each other, and he made you feel so comfortable in your own skin. You silently thanked the universe for putting the events of that night of the accident into motion because if you hadn’t met Chris, life wouldn’t be the same.

chris & y/n:

a/n: and there it is!!! my first series completed :) pleaseeee let me know what yall thought! matt series next???

#chris sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets #biggest fan

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jetsetwash0 · 2 years ago

Text

Automobile owners always have the option to replace that paint coating to recreate its original look. Because automobile paint renewal jobs can be expensive and time-consuming, it is smart to consider a Car Detailing Service in Los Angeles today.

#Car detailing service in Los Angeles

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umadosedepascal · 10 months ago

Text

O U C H | Pedro Pascal x f!reader | PART VII

Written by Santa Trindade

Banner by @missyorkswhore

Made in Brazil

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x f!reader

Summary: You are at the Golden Globes and meet Pedro over there, he didn’t win unfortunately but still, he is a winner in bed.

wc: 4.1k

rating/warnings: [Smut][Semi public sex] [unprotected PIV][oral sex m/f][Pedro injured] [sex on bathtub] [elevator][Pedro a little dom] [spanking ass] [Hold neck] [Curse words ][nipple play] [making out inside the car][Pedro speaks spanish]

a/n: My fellow followers, we are fast. I know. Pedro does help us imagine these kind of situation EASILY! just because he is HOT, even wearing an arm sling (poor baby). And yes, he is our slut winner always! More to come for the Emmys! 😘 please consider reposting, let’s spread it fucking hard! 🤘🏻

This Sunday was certainly one of the busiest since the year began, you arrived early at the salon to do hair, makeup and nails, it took you a long time to choose the best dress and perfect shoes for the Golden Globes.

Despite being a little cold in Los Angeles, you got a long dress with a naked back and slit in your left leg, perfect shoes, jewelry and hair, you were finally ready for the event.

The traffic of Los Angeles is always chaotic and today it would be no different, otherwise it is worse, there are so many cars, photographers and people. The driver goes near the entrance of the Bervely Hilton hotel, and as soon as you enter you already meet some friends and acquaintances. Your assistant is always pulling you, saying that you have little time as you walked towards the red carpet.

You give some interviews and as soon as you finish your interview with Vanity Fair, you turn around and see Pedro telling a reporter that he is injured because he fell, he hasn't seen you yet.

Pedro goes out in line for the red carpet photos, You are six people behind him, but even from afar you can see how beautiful he looks, black shirt with white details, black pants and equally black boots, you give a giggle when you see that he matched the arm sling with the clothes.

It's your turn to pose for the paparazzi, you position yourself behind the wall, look to your left and see that he is still taking pictures, talking, and even about the countless flashes, you feel his gaze on you.

You smile at the photographers and get close to Pedro, he opens a smile when he sees you, saying your name and extending his hand, pulling you close to him. He immediately puts his hand on your back, feeling your naked skin, his index finger makes small circles on your back while he talks to the man in front of you, you can barely understand what they talk about, it's so much noise and your mind focused only on the feeling of his finger playing with your skin.

Pedro's conversation ends, he pulls you by giving you a kiss on the cheek quickly while saying "See you later" giving a wink, he goes inside with his agent.

Your table is opposite to Pedro's, but you can still see him from where you are. During the awards your eyes meet each other, even from a distance.

He always smiling despite being hurt, he talks excitedly to everyone, with each winner who passes he gets up and greets.

You are so anxious to see him take the stage and receive the prize he deserves.

You already in your third Moet glass, and they finally announce the nominees for best drama actor, when they announce Pedro's name, you can't contain yourself, you get up and cheer for him, as if you were alone in your room in front of him, pleasuring him in the best way, whether about acting or how he fucks you until he leaves you breathless.

Unfortunately he does not win the category, so an idea comes to your mind, you are convinced that you will give him the best night ever.

Even after the defeat, Pedro doesn't stop smiling, you take your phone and send him a message "You are much bigger than any prize dear, let me show you that later?"

It takes a few minutes for him to see message, you look towards his table and giggle when you see him getting in the way holding his phone with only one hand, he puts the phone on his lap and types, a few seconds later his answer arrives, you feel your hands sweaty, a twink in your stomach when reading "I confess that I'm not happy about it, but now I'm very curious about how you will convince me that I'm worthy for you"

You bite your lip as you read and look at him, even a few meters away, you feel that brown sea on his eyes burning you, you just blink and raise your glass in a silent toast.

A few more awards are delivered, speeches are made, and you almost feel bad for not paying so much attention, almost. Your thoughts are in Pedro, hoping that everything ends soon for you to leave, and from what you look towards him, Pedro is not very different from you, his fingers hitting the table, playing with the glass between his fingers.

Finally the last prize is announced and delivered, everyone gets up, celebrating, lamenting. You dodge the invitations to the after party, claiming to have to wake up early for work, you go towards Pedro's table, he is taking some pictures with other people, you stand still finishing your last glass of champagne waiting anxiously to get his attention.

As soon as the last photo is taken, Pedro turns to you, that smile that only he has, stretching out his hand he says excitedly "Shall we go to the after party?" Your smile weakens at the time, you feel a twinge of disappointment, but you try miserably to disguise it, agreeing with your head, he laughs loudly and says "I got you! Come on, let's go to the car, I told you we're leaving" Pedro holds your hand and goes towards the exit, we stop a few times to greet some acquaintances, but Pedro always uses the same excuse -my arm is killing me, I forgot my medicine at home, sorry, next time I will-

Pulling you by the free hand, he always looks at me in the corner, bites his lip trying to hold a smile.

Pedro opens the car door to me and says softly with a shy smile "Can we go to your house tonight?".

You open your eyes and try to remember if everything is tidy and clean at your apartment, after all you remember isn’t that bad. "You got it! I have frozen pizza and beers" he laughs waving his head and raises his eyebrow, you get in the car and Pedro sits next to you, he puts his hand on your thigh and gently smoothes up and down, You look at his face and see him staring at you, eyes so expressive. His hand goes up until he finds the lace of your panties, he releases a cough while looking at the driver who is focused on traffic. You open your legs a little giving him more access to your pussy, you feel his middle finger go up and down pressing your clit, you look at him scared and say softly while you pretend to fix your earring "Are you crazy? El conductor lo verá"

He laughs and points with his head to the button next to you near the window "Press" he says, I press and then a black glass part rises between us and the driver.

Pedro raises his hand to your face, pulling you for a kiss, his lips taste like some strong drink, he sucks your tongue, bites your lower lip and whispers in your ear

"You can't even imagine how much I was waiting to put my hand under this dress." You open your legs, putting one on top of his, giving yourself to whatever he wants.

Pedro plays with the fabric of the dress, until you feel his fingers rub your clit over your panties. You close your eyes feeling him press his finger while his mouth says dirty things in your ear, you let out an involuntary moan, Pedro looks at you and tells you to be quiet, you smile and disguise.

You notice something in his hand that is bandaged, you bend to see and his nails have some kind of sticker, he laughs as you stretch his fingers and read _OUCH_

“What is this Pedro?!” You ask laughing, he answers between laughs "did you like it?"

We both laughed, you say yes, that you loved it, you take your hand out of his and slide on his head, your fingers wrapping in his curls, doing a massage, Pedro moans softly enjoying the massage. You watch his face, eyes closed, mouth slightly open while delighting in the massage, until you stop the movements opens his eyes staring at me. He is no longer smiling, neither you are, the atmosphere has changed, the car seems to heat up, you bring your lips closer to theirs while your other hand squeezes his thigh, going up to his groin, the tip of your nail circling the bulge that begins to harden. Pedro doesn't move, he just accepts your touches, you raise your hand until you find his belt, you open it and pull the zipper down, the only movement he makes with his body and raise his hips to give you access. You slide your hand in and feel his hot cock, you squeeze it and he moans throwing his head back. You raise your hand to the waistband of his boxers and run your index finger through the wet head with pre cum, he lets out a low swear word, when he sees you take his finger on your lips and suck it.

The car stop and you see that you are in front of your place.

Pedro stretches his hand over his thigh, adjusting the pants that shows his cock completely hard, you help him fix his belt and he gets out of the car. He extend his hand to you, you hold it firmly and leave, you take the keychain inside your bag, but it is so difficult to find the right one, because your brain freezes when you feel Pedro so close to your back, his hand playing with your hair, his fingers going up your back to the shoulders where he gently slide his nails, you hum

"This way we won't even get past the elevator Jose" he lets out a low giggle whispering a sorry.

As soon as you enter the hall, you press the elevator button and you feel that it is the twelve longest seconds of your life, the two of you looking closely at the elevator display, the tension is palpable, you look without blinking at the decreasing numbers _19, 18, 17, 16, 15, 14, 13, 12, 11, 10_ you count down mentally and when the ten arrives, you feel Pedro hold your nape tightly, pulling you until you back hits his chest, he runs his nose through your shoulder until he reaches your jaw, where he licks and bites gently

"If that fucking elevator takes five more seconds to open, I swear to God I'll fuck you on that table over there, after all I haven't won my trophy yet" he says that and turns your neck to the side, making you see the little table where the flowers in the hall are.

The elevator warns you that it is on the ground floor scares you, your heart accelerates, you look at Pedro who is still so close to your face and just nod your head towards the elevator door.

As soon as you enter, you press number 24, when the doors close, you ask Pedro to hold your bag, he holds and stares at you, you lean your back against the elevator wall and squat a little and putting your hand under your dress - thank God the side slit helped me - you take off your panties and when tou get up you find his eyes looking at you and looking for cameras in the elevator, you giggle and approach to get your bag while knead your panties in your hand and put them in his front pocket.

Pedro doesn't say anything, the growl that comes out of his throat speaks more than a thousand words.

The elevator warns tou that you are on the right floor, but you still need to look for the key inside the bag.

“Key, right?” He says while you search my bag

_God, I had them in my hand a few minutes ago_

Pedro pushes you against the wall, at the same time he slides his fingers on your lips making you open them, he puts two fingers in your mouth and makes you suck it, he takes out his fingers and holds your chin, making you raise your face more towards him, giving you a quick kiss, he slides his fingers wet with your saliva inside the slit of your dress, his fingers rubbing your clit, sticking two fingers in your pussy.

You let out a low moan and then kiss, your left hand on his chin smoothing his beard while the other still looks for a key inside the bag.

His fingers in and out of you, you suck his lip and move away, interrupting the kiss you raise my hand, shaking the key between your fingers

“Found it!”

He laughs and takes his fingers out of you, and takes it to his lips, sucking. You open the door, Pedro pulls you towards your room, which he is already familiar with, he sits on your bed, takes your panties out of his pocket and extends it to his side and says:

“You did this, can you take off my clothes as well?”

Without thinking, you approach him, you knee down and start with the boots and socks, never breaking eye contact.

You are between his legs and drag your hands until you find his belt, unbuckle and slowly open a button, stop and look at him, as if asking for permission

"Yeah babe, like this" he says with a smile on his face, you open the other button and open the zipper. You hook your fingers into the waistband of his pants and pull his pants so slowly that you can feel the anxiety in the air.

You throw his pants to the side and see how hard he is, you slide your hands over his underwear, his cock is pulsating and hot, kneeling in front of him, you bring your face closer to his cock and run your tongue over his underwear following the entire length, feeling the moisture in the fabric.

Pedro sighs and looks up, murmuring something you don't even understand, you just feel his left hand grabbing your hair, letting out a growl he tells you to get up and sit on his lap. You get up and when you put your hand on the zipper of the dress to take it off, Pedro interrupts me

"Deja el vestido puesto!"

You put one leg on each side of his hip, Pedro moans low when he feels your wet pussy in contact with his thigh, you feel his hand squeezing your nape again, you smile at him while your hands play with the details of the shirt he wears.

"You are so wet babe" without answering you just kiss, your lips touch each other first softly, you feel tickled when the mustache he rubs against your skin, his hand loosens the grip on your hair and slowly goes down your back, the kiss goes wide, you bite his lower lip, pulling between his teeth and licking when releasing,

Pedro never moves his hand away from your body, you feel his thigh press your pussy, you rub yourself feeling the few hairs on his leg in contact with your swollen clit and in need of touch, Pedro lowers his hand to your hip, pulling you down while raising his thigh, you release a moan in his mouth, so what he says is enough for your body to know that he is in complete abstinence "Ride on my thigh... enjoy rubbing against me" Pedro lies on the bed, wearing only his shirt and underwear, you put your hands on his chest and you start rubbing slowly. Pedro doesn't take his eyes off yours, his hand is still on your hip encouraging me to speed up the movements, leading me.

You throw your head back, feeling a heat take over your body, you feel the orgasm rise in your stomach, your clit pulsating, feeling his thigh slide easily in your excitement.

"Come on babe give me, I want to feel you" Pedro begs and squeezes your breast over the dress, you rub harder feeling your orgasm wet his whole thigh "Oh my god Pedro please"

"Yeah babe like that ride me like that" you moan his name, you murmur things that you don't even know what they mean, as soon as you feel your body calm down you open your eyes and there they are, those brown eyes burning me, eqting you alive. You get out of his thigh, dragging you down until you get on your knees on the floor, Pedro runs two fingers on his wet thigh and moans while licking his fingers, as if you were his favorite dessert.

He leans on his left elbow and stares at you you run your nails through his legs, reaching the waistband of his boxers, and before pulling you look him in the eyes and say softly

"Let me demonstrate how important you are my dear"

You slowly pull his undies, his cock jumps hitting his tummy, drops of pre cum flooding his cock head.

You hold his cock by the base and make slow movements from the bottom up, watching the fat drops of pre cum accumulate, wetting your fingers. Without taking your eyes off his eyes you put his cock in your mouth and make circles with the tip of your tongue, cleaning his excitement, you put it in your mouth until you feel the tip of his cock hit your throat, extending your hands and stroke his tummy inside his fancy shirt.

"Help me get this out" you let go of his cock and get up, carefully opening the velcro of his arm sling, you help him take off his shirt throwing it to the side where his clothes turn to a pile. Pedro pulls you making you ride on his lap, you feel his cock hit against your clit, you put your hand between your bodies and holding his cock by the base you fit into your pussy and sit, feeling every inch of it inside you.you both moan loudly, you stand still and help put the arm sling again

"I want you to be safe babe" he laughs and squeezes your ass and moves his hips up entering deeper into you, you push him to lie down and lean over him, gluing your lips to his you bounce on his cock for a while.

"Take off that dress" he says. You get up and pull the side zipper of your dress, Pedro calls you with his fingers and asks you to lie on the bed, he kneels between your legs and stroke your thighs, your belly, circling your nipples.

"I won tonite anyways" he says as he holds his cock by the base and rubs it against your clit.

Pedro slides his cock inside you slowly, taking advantage of every inch, while smoothing the side of your thigh threatening to snap you stretch your hands and scratch his thick thighs.

You feel his nails scratch your thigh and soon the burning of the slap "Come on babe take me all" you push your hips against his, the only sound in the room is your breaths with low moans.

Pedro slides his hand down your neck, squeezing and down until he finds your nipples, he squeezes and rotates between his fingers, making you squeeze his cock with your pussy "fuck Pedro, please I need more" he stop moving, he just keeps looking at me raising an eyebrow while squeezing your nipple between his fingers

"Do you need more? "And giggles

You slide your foot on his tummy pushing him away, you kneel on the bed getting face to face with him, you lick and bite every piece of skin you find, you jerking him off, feeling your fingers get wet with pre cum and your excitement

"On all fours my little bitch" he orders with a slap on your ass, you turn around getting your face pressed against the mattress, you feel Pedro's hand stroke your ass, and then the sound of a slap echoes through the room next to your moan, another slap and you hear him squat, then his lips are in your pussy, his tongue entering you like a cock, he moans against your pussy, making you feel the vibrations of his hoarse voice.

Before getting up you feel his saliva dripping through your pussy, another slap on your ass and you feel his cock hitting your clitoris, rubbing you hard, he moans and curses not being able to have both hands free, Pedro sticks his whole cock into your pussy, taking a loud moan from both of you.

"Fuck Pedro don't fucking stop please" he trust hard, you feel another orgasm forming, his skin hitting against you, his hand passing through your back, scratching your skin.

"Touch your clit, give me one more babe one fucking more" you put your hand in the middle of your legs and it doesn't take many movements to cum on his cock, you feel yourself explode, making you scream the name of Pedro.

"Fuck babe I'm going to fill your pussy" Pedro speed up the movements, his left hand squeezing your hip hard, you feel hot jets of cum flooding your pussy, Pedro moaning your name while slapping your ass a few more times

"Your pussy is milking me you fucking bitch" Pedro throws himself next to you on the bed, breathing with difficulty, he looks at you and laughs and now you realize that he didn't even take off his glasses, the disheveled hair gives an extremely unique look. Him.

"Fuck the awards" he says laughing, panting, you kiss him and say softly

"More awards to come Pedrito, relax" he smiles stretching his hand and slapping you in the ass

"I will win them all! Let's go to the shower"

Pedro stares at you as you undo the velcro of his arm sling “What?" He just smiles saying that out of nowhere, the bathtub is almost full, you enter and feel your feet thank the hot water, you sit down and call him, he approaches and sits behind you, pulling you to have your back glued to his chest, you put your head between his neck and shoulder, stretching your right hand while you play with his hair.

You feel his left hand playing with your nipples, slowly going down yourbelly until you find my clit.

"Hmmm I'm still not happy I need more awards" he says this and puts his leg under yours, making it almost impossible for you to close your legs, the middle and index finger draw circles through your clit, in and out his finger inside you. You tilt your head more looking for his lips, kissing him while you release moans every time you feel him put two fingers inside your pussy.

"I want you to hold my cock with that beautiful hand and put it in that tight little pussy and ride me "

Every word he said was a thrust of his fingers inside you, you turn around and sit on his lap, holding his cock with your right hand, Pedro doesn't wait a second and is already pushing myou down to bury himself inside you. Pedro sucks and bites your nipples, climbs his tongue until he finds your lips, his hand holding your ass tigh, guiding how he wants me to roll.

"Fuck, you're so hot, that pussy squeezes me so hard"

Your moan is loud, your nails scratch his shoulders, your lips meet the skin of his neck where you slide your tongue whispering in his ear how you love to feel his cock all inside you.

Pedro holds the back of your neck making you look into his eyes "Cum on my cock, squeeze me" you grind more feeling your clit rubbing on his lower belly, the orgasm growing inside you, your hands hold his shoulders tightly

"Fuck I'm going to cum"

His hand grabs my neck, squeezing hard as he orders "Now" your moans are weak due to the force he holds your neck, you feel your body tremble

"I'm going to fill your fucking pussy with cum, kiss me please" your kiss is desperate, your moans are loud, Pedro’s hand runs through your body desperate to touch every inch of your skin.

"Fuck, that was much better than any award" he speaks in the midst of laughter you kiss his shoulder and bury your face on his neck

"Always so good... Hmmm pizza and beers?" He laughs loudly and gives you a slow kiss.

"Fuck yeah pizza and beers!"

———————————

Thanks for being here and read our delusional fics, likes are appreciate, comments even more. If you want to ask anything, blast it!

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal x f!reader #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller #pedro pascal imagine #pedrohub #dieter bravo #joel miller x reader #dieter bravo x reader #dave york x reader #javier pena x you #javier gutierrez

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eddiediazbuck · 5 months ago

Text

Home - Eddie Diaz

Eddie Diaz x reader

I slammed the door behind me, my hands trembling with a mixture of anger and frustration. Tears blurred my vision as I fumbled with my keys, trying to steady my breath. Brandon's voice echoed in my head, his harsh words cutting deeper than any physical wound. This wasn't how it was supposed to be; we were supposed to have a future together. But now, all I felt was an overwhelming sense of betrayal and loss.

I managed to start the car, my mind racing with thoughts of where to go. I couldn't go to Buck's place—my brother, Evan Buckley, had enough on his plate without me adding to it. Plus, I couldn't bear the thought of him seeing me like this, so broken and vulnerable. There was only one other person I could think of, despite our recent argument: Eddie Diaz.

My hands were still shaking as I drove through the streets of Los Angeles. The city lights blurred into a kaleidoscope of colors, and I could barely focus on the road. Eddie and I had fought a few days ago, and we hadn't spoken since. I knew showing up at his door might not go over well, but I didn't have any other options. Eddie had always been there for me, and despite our fight, I hoped he wouldn't turn me away.

When I pulled up to Eddie's house, I hesitated for a moment, staring at the front door. Memories of our argument flashed through my mind, and I almost turned back. But then I remembered the look on Brandon's face, the way he had dismissed me, and my resolve hardened. I needed someone, and Eddie was the only one I trusted right now.

I took a deep breath and rang the doorbell, my heart pounding in my chest. The cool night air did little to calm my nerves as I waited, each second feeling like an eternity. Finally, the door opened, and Eddie stood there, his expression a mix of surprise and concern. He looked tired, like he hadn't slept well in days, a stark contrast to the steady, calm demeanor I knew so well. I realized I must look a mess—my tear-streaked face and disheveled hair a testament to the emotional storm I had just weathered.

"Y/N?" he said, his voice softening as he took in my appearance.

I swallowed hard, trying to steady my voice. "I'm sorry, Eddie," I choked out, the words catching in my throat. "I had nowhere else to go."

Without a word, Eddie stepped aside, a silent invitation that spoke volumes. As soon as I crossed the threshold, the dam broke, and I collapsed into his arms, sobbing uncontrollably. Eddie held me tightly, his strong arms providing the comfort I so desperately needed.

"Come here," he whispered, his voice soothing and gentle. "It's okay. You're safe now."

Eddie led me to the living room, his hand never leaving mine. The familiar warmth of his home enveloped me, a stark contrast to the chaos swirling inside my head. He guided me to the couch, sitting me down gently before heading to the kitchen. I heard the soft clink of a glass and the rush of water from the tap. Moments later, he returned with a glass of water, pressing it into my hands.

"Drink," he said softly. "It'll help."

I took a sip, the cool liquid soothing my parched throat. Eddie sat down beside me, his presence a steadying force. He didn't press me for details, didn't demand an explanation. He just sat there, his hand resting on my back, rubbing gentle circles as I tried to pull myself together.

"I don't know what to do," I whispered, staring at the floor. The reality of the situation weighed heavily on me, and I felt utterly lost.

"We'll figure it out," Eddie said firmly.

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

After what felt like hours, my tears finally subsided, replaced by an overwhelming exhaustion. Eddie handed me a tissue, and I wiped my face, feeling a mix of embarrassment and relief. The room was dimly lit, the soft glow from the table lamp casting gentle shadows on the walls. I glanced around, trying to ground myself in the familiar surroundings of Eddie's living room.

"I'm sorry," I repeated, my voice barely above a whisper.

"You don't have to apologize," Eddie replied, his eyes filled with concern. He reached out, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder. "Do you want to talk about what happened?"

I hesitated, the memories of my argument with Brandon still raw and painful. But looking into Eddie's eyes, I saw nothing but genuine concern and understanding. Taking a deep breath, I began to recount the events of the evening, my voice trembling as I relived the harsh words and the final, crushing blow that had sent me running.

Eddie listened quietly, his expression growing more serious with each passing moment. He didn’t interrupt, didn’t offer hollow reassurances or try to solve the problem immediately. He simply listened, his presence a steady anchor in the storm of my emotions.

When I finished, he sighed deeply, shaking his head. "I'm so sorry, Y/N. You don't deserve any of that," he said, his voice filled with conviction.

"I just... I don't know what to do," I admitted, feeling the weight of my situation pressing down on me. The reality of having no place to call home, of being untethered and adrift, was suffocating.

Eddie took my hand, his grip warm and reassuring. "You can stay here as long as you need to. We'll figure this out together. You're not alone in this."

I felt a wave of gratitude wash over me, but there was also a lingering doubt. "I don't want to be a burden, Eddie. You've already done so much."

"You're not a burden," he said firmly. "You're my friend, and I care about you. We'll get through this."

Eddie showed me to the guest room, a cozy space with soft blue walls and a neatly made bed. It was clear he had taken care to make it welcoming, and I felt a pang of emotion at his thoughtfulness.

"Get some rest," he said, standing in the doorway. "We'll talk more in the morning."

"Thank you, Eddie," I said, my voice breaking slightly. "For everything."

He gave me a gentle smile. "Anytime, Y/N. Goodnight."

As he closed the door, I felt a sense of calm begin to settle over me. I changed into the pajamas Eddie had laid out, and slipped under the covers. The bed was warm and comfortable, and despite everything, I felt a sense of security here. It wasn't long before exhaustion claimed me, and I drifted off into a deep, dreamless sleep.

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

I woke the next morning to the smell of coffee and the sound of birds chirping outside the window. For a moment, I forgot where I was, but then the memories of the previous night came flooding back. I took a deep breath and got out of bed, determined to face the day.

In the kitchen, Eddie was making breakfast. He looked up and smiled when he saw me. "Good morning. How did you sleep?"

"Better than I expected," I admitted, taking a seat at the table. "Thank you for everything."

"You're welcome," he said, placing a plate of scrambled eggs and toast in front of me. "I thought we could eat and then maybe talk about what's next."

I nodded, grateful for his calm, practical approach. As we ate, the conversation flowed easily, and I felt some of the tension begin to ease. Eddie had a way of making things seem less daunting, and for the first time in days, I felt a glimmer of hope.

After breakfast, we moved to the living room. Eddie handed me a cup of coffee and sat down beside me, his expression serious but kind.

"So, what's the plan?" he asked gently.

I took a deep breath, trying to organize my thoughts. "I need to find a new place to live, and probably a new job. I can't go back to the apartment I shared with Brandon, and I don't want to stay with Buck. He'd worry too much."

Eddie nodded, his eyes thoughtful. "I understand. But you don't have to rush into anything. Take some time to figure things out. You can stay here as long as you need to."

His words were a lifeline, and I clung to them gratefully. "Thank you, Eddie. I don't know what I would have done without you."

He smiled, a warm, reassuring smile that made my heart feel lighter.

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

Over the next few days, I settled into a routine at Eddie's house. He continued to go to work at the fire station, and I spent my days looking for apartments and updating my resume. It was a slow process, but having a safe place to stay made all the difference.

Eddie and I fell into an easy rhythm, our earlier argument forgotten in the face of more pressing concerns. In the evenings, we cooked dinner together and talked about our days. The familiarity and comfort of these moments began to heal the wounds of the past.

One evening, as I was sitting on the couch, Christopher came up to me, a hopeful look in his eyes. "Y/N, can we make dinner for Dad tonight?" he asked.

I smiled, touched by his eagerness. "Of course, Christopher. What do you want to make?"

Christopher's eyes lit up. "Dad loves spaghetti and meatballs! Can we make that?"

"Absolutely," I replied, standing up. "Let's get started."

We headed to the kitchen, and I began gathering the ingredients. Christopher followed closely, his excitement palpable. I handed him a small apron, which he eagerly put on, and together we started the prep work.

"Okay, Christopher," I said, setting a cutting board in front of him. "You can help me with the garlic. We need to peel it first."

Christopher nodded, his hands steady and sure as he worked on the garlic cloves. I was impressed by his determination and focus. Despite his cerebral palsy, Christopher had an incredible spirit and a willingness to try new things.

As we worked, I showed him how to mix the ground beef with the breadcrumbs, egg, and seasonings for the meatballs. He watched intently, mimicking my movements with a concentration that was both endearing and impressive.

"Now, we roll the mixture into balls like this," I explained, demonstrating the motion. "Can you try?"

Christopher nodded, carefully rolling a meatball and placing it on the tray. "Like this?"

"Exactly like that," I praised, giving him an encouraging smile. "You're doing great."

With the meatballs ready, we moved on to the sauce. I let Christopher stir the pot, his face glowing with pride as he watched the ingredients blend together. His joy was infectious, and I found myself smiling just as widely.

As we finished preparing the meal, the kitchen filled with the delicious aroma of tomato sauce and garlic. Christopher and I set the table, placing a small vase of flowers in the center as a finishing touch.

When Eddie walked in the door, he was greeted by the sight of his son and me standing proudly in the kitchen, our faces flushed with accomplishment.

"Wow, what's going on here?" Eddie asked, his eyes twinkling with amusement and curiosity.

"We made dinner for you, Dad!" Christopher exclaimed, rushing over to hug him.

Eddie looked at me, his eyes softening with gratitude. "Thank you," he said quietly.

"It was all Christopher's idea," I replied, giving the boy a wink. "He wanted to surprise you."

Eddie ruffled Christopher's hair affectionately. "Well, I am definitely surprised. And it smells amazing. Let's eat!"

After dinner, once Christopher was tucked into bed, Eddie and I found ourselves on the porch again, sipping tea and watching the stars. The silence between us was comfortable, filled with unspoken understanding.

"Thank you for tonight," Eddie said, breaking the silence. "Christopher had a great time, and the dinner was amazing."

"It was my pleasure," I replied, smiling. "Christopher is a wonderful kid. He's so determined and full of life."

Eddie nodded, his eyes reflecting a mix of pride and love. "He's my everything. And you've been so good with him. It means a lot to me."

"I care about both of you," I admitted, feeling my heart swell with emotion. "Being here, spending time with you and Christopher... it feels right."

Eddie reached out, taking my hand in his. The gesture was simple, yet it spoke volumes. "It feels right to me too," he said softly. "I'm glad you're here, Y/N."

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

As the days passed, Christopher's fondness for Y/N only seemed to grow deeper. He looked forward to their cooking sessions with an eagerness that warmed Eddie's heart. But beneath his cheerful demeanor, Eddie sensed a growing unease in his son.

One evening, as they sat down for dinner, Christopher seemed unusually quiet. He picked at his food, his usual enthusiasm replaced by a somber expression.

"Is everything okay, buddy?" Eddie asked, concern lacing his voice.

Christopher hesitated, glancing at Y/N before turning back to his plate. "I... I heard you and Y/N talking earlier," he admitted quietly.

Eddie exchanged a glance with Y/N, feeling a pang of guilt for discussing their plans in front of Christopher. "We were just talking about some things, Chris. Nothing to worry about."

But Christopher shook his head, his eyes welling up with tears. "I don't want Y/N to leave," he confessed, his voice trembling. "I don't want things to go back to how they were before."

Eddie's heart broke at his son's words. He reached out, pulling Christopher into a tight hug. "Oh, buddy. I know it's scary to think about Y/N leaving, but we'll figure things out together, okay? We'll make sure she's okay."

Christopher nodded, but Eddie could see the fear and uncertainty lingering in his eyes. He glanced at Y/N, silently pleading for her understanding.

After dinner, once Christopher had been tucked into bed, Eddie and Y/N found themselves on the porch again, the air heavy with the weight of Christopher's worries.

"I'm sorry he overheard our conversation," Eddie said, his voice heavy with guilt. "I didn't want him to worry."

"It's okay," Y/N replied softly, her eyes filled with empathy.

Eddie sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I just don't want him to feel like he's losing someone else, you know? He's been through so much already."

Y/N reached out, placing a comforting hand on Eddie's arm. "He won't lose me, Eddie. I promise. Even if I have to leave, I'll always be here for him. For both of you."

Eddie looked at her, his heart overflowing with gratitude. "Thank you, Y/N. That means more to me than you'll ever know."

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

As Eddie sat on the porch with Y/N, her reassuring words echoed in his mind. He knew she meant them—that she would always be there for him and Christopher, no matter what. And in that moment, a realization dawned on him.

"Y/N," Eddie began, turning to face her, his expression earnest. "I've been thinking a lot about what you said earlier. About always being here for Christopher and me."

Y/N looked at him, her eyes filled with curiosity and warmth. "Yes?"

"I don't want you to leave," Eddie admitted, his voice thick with emotion. "I don't want Christopher to feel like he's losing someone else. And I... I don't want to lose you either."

Y/N's hand tightened on his arm, her gaze unwavering. "Eddie..."

He took a deep breath, gathering his courage. "Y/N, will you move in with us? With me and Christopher? I want you to be a part of our family, officially."

The words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. Eddie held his breath, waiting for Y/N's response, his heart pounding in his chest.

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise, her hand moving to cover her mouth. Tears shimmered in her eyes as she nodded, unable to find her voice.

Eddie's heart swelled with relief and joy. He reached out, taking her hand in his, the warmth of her touch grounding him in the moment.

"Y/N," he whispered, his voice filled with love. "Thank you. Thank you for saying yes."

Y/N threw her arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace. "Of course, Eddie. I love you both so much. I want to be with you, always."

In that moment, as they held each other close, Eddie knew that their family was complete. With Y/N by his side, he felt like they could face anything that life threw their way. And as they watched the stars twinkle in the night sky, he felt a sense of peace settle over him—a certainty that no matter what challenges lay ahead, they would overcome them together, as a family.

#eddie diaz imagine #eddie diaz x reader #9 1 1 on abc #9 1 1 fanfiction #9 1 1 #eddie diaz

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