#him turning away to hide that he knows and her immediately pulling him back to treat him and the love and disbelief in his eyes

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Ugly Side To Fame

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~3.7k

Warnings: fluff, angst, being kidnapped and forced to act out a fantasy, implied smut

Request by anon: can you do a Spencer x reader where the reader is like a famous singer model actress (what ever you want the reader to be) and she is gorgeous and no one on the team knows because her and Spencer what to keep it private because of how famous she is and Garcia is her biggest fan and one day she never shows up to her and Spencer dinner date and he is worried about her so her goes to her condo house and sees that the door is wide open and the house is ransacked and there is blood and he call the team and they open a case for her but then they get specious of why he was at her condo and he comes clean to them about dating her

Summary: You’re a famous model with lots of fans who adore you. When one of them crosses the line between fan and stalker, it’s up to Spencer’s team to save you before it’s too late.

Square Filled: forced to hurt someone for @badthingshappenbingo

Author’s Note: just a reminder that there are models of all sizes, and each of them is beautiful!

x

You arch your back and tilt your head slightly to the right, staring at the camera as you do. Fans blow all around the set to keep the models cool, but you can feel the baby oil sliding down your skin into places where it shouldn’t be. You’re hot, sticky, and sweaty, but the position is perfect.

“Great work, Y/N! Now turn toward Gio and put your hands on his shoulders lazily.”

You turn toward your coworker and sling your arms around his shoulders naturally, leaning into him slightly.

“Fantastic job, you two. Don’t look at the camera.”

The photographer snaps a few dozen photos from different angles, and she grins when she’s done. You feel a sense of pride when she grins like that. It means you’re doing your job right. You’re a famous model, shown all across the country and different parts of the world in billboards, ads, magazines, and even fashion shows. You’ve even gotten a spot in the next Victoria Secret show, and that’s something you’re looking forward to.

People are coming and going from this set, so you don’t think much of the chatter until you see him. The love of your life. Your rock. Your love. Spencer Reid. He must have gotten off work early and decided to come see you.

“Okay, take five while I reset everything.”

You break away from your coworker and immediately go to Spencer’s side, pulling him in for a hug. You’re careful not to get too much baby oil on him, but he doesn't seem to mind.

“I’m so happy you’re here!” You lean up and kiss him. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you. We don’t have a case this weekend, so be prepared to spend every minute with me.”

“Sounds like a dream.” The five minutes are up, and you look back at set. “I should be done in thirty minutes. Wait for me.”

You scurry off to do more poses with your coworker. Spencer has never been the jealous type. He’s secure in his relationship with you. Yes, you’re a model. Yes, you have a lot of fans who adore you. Yes, you do often pose with half-naked men. However, he’s the one you’re going to go home with at the end of the day. You never fail to show him how much you love him. He loves seeing you on ads and billboards, and he made sure to secure a spot at the Victoria Secret fashion show next month.

He could not be more proud of you.

After the shoot is done, and you’ve taken a quick shower, you two leave hand in hand. He doesn’t drive, but you don’t mind the walk to your house.

“So, when am I going to meet your friends?”

“Is it so wrong to want to stay in this bubble with you?”

“Have you even told them about me? That I’m a famous model?”

“If I have, you’d know about it. Penelope is your biggest fan.”

The topic of meeting his second family has always come up, especially recently. It’s not that he’s hiding you or wants to hide you. He knows how people can get, and he wants to keep you all to himself. You’ll meet them eventually, but tonight won’t be that night. You don’t feel shame from him, so you know that's not the issue. It can be overwhelming, especially when the love of your life is so much more famous than you. Spencer is setting high expectations for his friends. What if they don’t like you? What if they do? What if you get hurt because of him and his job?

You get to your house and immediately go to the kitchen to put a frozen pizza in the oven. It’s quick, and you don’t feel like cooking a whole meal after a long day. Being a model doesn’t mean you get to skimp out on what you eat. You work out regularly, and with the right balance, you can have both a model career and eat what you want. Models like Kendall Jenner and Gigi Hadid look great, but you know how strictly they set rules for themselves.

When you became a model, you promised yourself you weren't going to be like them.

You and Spencer enjoy pizza and a movie, but you’re in the mood for some dessert. Before the movie ends, you slink closer to his side and attach your lips to his neck. Spencer relaxes against the couch and pulls you onto his lap so you’re straddling him. You suck on the sensitive spot underneath his ear, and he grows harder underneath you.

He cups your cheeks and pulls your lips to his, and he kisses you passionately. He hooks his hands under your thighs and stands with you in his arms. The night is filled with steamy passion, one that leaves you shaking for more.

On Monday, he arrived at work before you got up. He left a note on his pillow that he’ll see you for lunch. He’ll call you later with details. If he looked into a mirror before he left, he’d have seen something he never wanted his friends to see. The girls are around JJ’s desk gossiping about what they did over the weekend.

JJ is about to share what she, Will, and the boys did when she sees it. Her mouth parts, and the girls turn to see what JJ is looking at. At first, they don’t see it until Spencer turns his head. Right on his neck is a big red spot from where you were sucking.

“Who, Spencer, who knew you’d be the type?” JJ chuckles.

“What?”

“Damn, here I thought all you did was read and do research,” Tara laughs.

“What are you talking about?”

Matt and Luke walk over to see what the girls are giggling about when they see the mark on Spencer’s neck.

“Who, Spencer, who’s your little girlfriend?” Luke grins.

Spencer looks at everyone and finally realizes what they’re looking at. His hand flies to the side of his neck where he knows your mark is, and his cheeks redden.

“I burned myself.”

“With that, a curling iron?” JJ smirks.

“You have a girl we don’t know about?” Luke asks.

“What? No.”

“Oh, so then you’re hooking up with people?” Tara smirks.

“No. Okay. Yes, I’m dating someone, but she’s not ready to meet you all yet.” That’s a lie. It’s he who isn’t ready. He’s content with staying in this bubble for as long as he can. “Can we return to work now?”

Spencer leaves before anyone else can ask more questions. They’ll come to know you soon enough, so he wants to avoid those questions as long as he can. Like last week, there isn’t an active case since the B team is out, so he focuses on the files he has open. Time flies, and it’s lunchtime before he knows it.

He takes out his phone to call you, but you don’t answer the phone. You must be caught in a shoot that’s running long, and he doesn’t want to bother you. He leaves a voicemail saying he can do a late lunch, but you don’t return his call. He doesn’t think much of it and returns to work. By the end of the day, he starts to become worried that you haven’t answered any of his calls. It’s weird, but maybe work ran late.

However, the set is closed when he arrives to pick you up. If you’re not at work, then you have to be at home, and you should have answered his calls. As he walks to your house, he calls you. All of them have gone to voicemail, and he immediately becomes suspicious. That suspicion turns to worry when he sees your house.

The front door is wide open which is Spencer’s first indication that something is wrong. He walks inside your house carefully as if someone will pop up and scare him. The living room is to the right, and the furniture is toppled over as if you were running from someone or something.

The kitchen is worse with every drawer and cabinet open, and knives on the ground. He doesn’t even want to see what upstairs looks like, but he goes up there regardless. The first thing he notices is the pool of blood on the carpet. He doesn’t need to see the rest of the house. 

He knows what he needs to do.

He pulls out his phone and calls his team. Only they are going to be able to help. He doesn’t trust the local PD to be able to solve this. If you’re hurt and suffering, he needs only the best to track you down. Soon, your house is crawling with officers, CSIs, and his team.

“Look, I know I said she wasn’t ready to meet you all, but it was me who wasn’t ready. I guess I wanted to stay in this bubble we created. My girlfriend is Y/N, the famous model. I don’t know what happened here, but we were meant to get lunch together. I thought she was at work because she never answered my calls. I just came here to see this. I don’t know what happened.”

Everyone is shocked that Spencer is dating. No, not that he is dating. It’s that he’s dating you. They never pictured him with a model. They’re happy for him, of course, but it’s a little shocking when they never expected it.

Still, this is a crime scene, and everyone snaps into focus. A sample of the blood is taken to the labs for testing. If it doesn’t come out as yours, then whoever was in this house after you is hurt. The local PD is tasked with gathering as much evidence as they can from the scene alongside Matt and Rossi. 

With being a famous model, you have a lot of fans from all over the country, the world, even. If you were attacked in your home, then the person who did this to you might have been a fan. Spencer, JJ, and Penelope are tasked with going through your social media and laptop to see if there is someone who has taken a special interest in you.

Luke is going around to your neighbors in hopes someone might have seen something, so Spencer heads back to the BAU with JJ and your laptop. Penelope heard the news as soon as Spencer called, so she tried to contain her excitement about potentially knowing her favorite model.

“I’ll be sure to introduce her to you after this, but here is her laptop,” Spencer says and hands it over.

“Sure, of course. Don’t worry, Spencer, we’ll find her.”

Getting into your laptop is light work for Penelope, and Spencer and JJ go through your social media accounts. Spencer has the passwords to all of your accounts because you’re so forgetful, and you don’t want to put your passwords in your notes just in case you get hacked. One of your friends was hacked a year ago and had all of her information stolen. Plus, why remember when you have a super smart boyfriend to remember for you?

“Look at this, Spence,” JJ says, showing him her phone. It’s one of your DMs on Instagram. “Y/NSBOY_69 has sent her multiple messages talking about how beautiful she is and how he’d love to meet up with her. She never accepted the request, so all of them are left unanswered, but it looks like she has a fanboy.”

“I’ve noticed.”

Spencer’s brow furrows as he reads through your TikTok, Facebook, Snapchat, and Twitter messages. The ones that aren’t from friends and family are from fans who seem to have some sort of obsession with you. None are as bad as Y/NSBOY_69. He has liked every picture you have posted, commented multiple times on them, and has messaged you asking when you two are going to get together.

“This guy is seriously all the way creepy,” Penelope says. “I have messages asking her to carry his babies.”

Anger flares up in Spencer’s chest, but he tries not to let it show. He’s usually a calm person when it comes to you. He knows you get messages from obsessed fans, but he never knew it could get this bad. Sure, he’s seen what obsession looks like, but it’s different when it happens to someone he knows.

“I can’t wait for Rossi and Matt to finish up at her house. I know this guy is the one who attacked her. How, I’m not sure. Maybe he followed her home and forced his way in.” Realization passes over his face. “What if she let him in?”

“I highly doubt that,” JJ scoffs. Just then, the others come back from the crime scene. “Find out anything?”

“One of the neighbors noticed something as she was out walking her dog. She was on her way out when she noticed someone tall and lanky sneaking around her house, looking into her windows. When she came back, the door was wide open. Y/N was already gone.”

“So, he was stalking her. You should see her social media accounts. Tons of comments and messages from a single account that I’m sure Penelope is looking through.”

Spencer frowns in thought. He never knew the kind of behavior you’d see daily. You keep a good front for someone who knows there is a stalker out there obsessed with you.

“You bet your ass I am,” Penelope says. “This guy is not trying to hide at all. He doesn’t even have safety measures to prevent someone like me from getting through. His name is Charlie Jones. His address and work have been sent to your PDAs.”

The team splits into two with one half going to his work and the other half to his home. Luke kicks in his front door, and Spencer and JJ follow him inside with guns raised. It’s a two-bedroom apartment, so the team quickly clears it. Charlie isn’t here. However, it’s not a total bust. In a bedroom, the walls are covered with pictures of you. Not just the pictures you’ve posted online or you in ads. Pictures of you out and about. Some even with Spencer in them. His face is crossed off in every single one of them.

This isn’t just an obsession. This is something else entirely.

Spencer takes out his phone and calls Rossi before connecting him to a call with Penelope. “He’s not at his house.”

“He’s not at work, either. Turns out, he’d been fired a few months ago for bad behavior,” Matt informs.

“We found something at his house. One of the bedrooms has pictures of Y/N in it. He was completely infatuated with her. Pictures of her going about her normal life. Garcia, is there anything else you can dig up on this guy? Another property he might own?”

“He doesn't have any other property in his name. However, his parents do. They work in Asia, but they do have a farmhouse they bought several years ago. I guess they wanted to try their hand at farmlife, but it never stuck. It looks like the place is abandoned.”

“I bet he took her there,” Spencer says.

“Address already sent. Please be careful.”

When the strange man broke into your home, you fought hard. You fucked up your house trying to get away from him. You even managed to cut him with one of the kitchen knives. Still, he came prepared and managed to trap you inside your bathroom. He stuck a syringe in your neck and injected you with something that caused you to pass out.

You woke up in this farmhouse to him crying over you, apologizing for hurting you. He smothered your face with wet kisses, and you did your best not to vomit. All he wants is to be with you. He created this fake life with you in his head, and now he wants it to become reality. Besides injecting you, he hasn’t hurt you.

Maybe it’s because you’ve been complying knowing you have to save your energy for escaping. As soon as an opportunity presents itself, you’re taking that one-way ticket out of here. If Spencer didn’t know you were missing when he attacked, he surely does now. He and his team are going to find you.

You just have to stay alive long enough for them to save you.

“How is your neck?” he asks.

“Good. It doesn’t hurt anymore,” you lie.

It hurts like a bitch since he wiggled the needle in you to make sure it stuck. The last thing you’re going to do is tell him that.

“I’m sorry, baby. I had to do that. You were fighting me.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

He reaches up and touches your cheek. He pulls you in for a kiss, and you lean in hesitantly. “Never be sorry. You’re too perfect to apologize for anything. Now, go get the food you cooked.”

You eagerly leave his side to grab the food you’ve been cooking for the past hour. You sit across from him and push your food around. You lost your appetite long ago, but Charlie scarfs his food down as if he hadn’t eaten for days.

“Am I ever going to go home, Charlie?”

“You are home. This is our home now. Y/n, it’ll be perfect. I’ll fix up the house and make it perfect for you. You’ll be here with the kids, and I can tend to the farm with all kinds of animals.”

“Kids?” you squeak.

“Four of them. I’ve always wanted a big family,” he grins.

Oh, hell no. You don’t care if this will kill you. You need to get out of here now. The front door doesn’t seem to have a lock on it. He must be so confident that you’d want to stay here with him that he doesn’t care to lock the front door. Or, maybe it is. Either way, you have to get out of here.

“I’ve made dessert. Are you ready for that?”

“You are the dessert, my love.” Like fuck are you going to let him touch you, but you don’t tell him that. “But yes. I’d love some.”

You get up from the table and walk into the kitchen, his back still turned to you. There are no knives around, so you grab the pan you used to cook. You grip the handle tightly and sneak over to Charlie on light feet. Without thinking, you swing the pan across Charlie’s head, gasping when he is tossed onto the floor from the impact. You drop the pan in shock before your fight-or-flight response kicks in.

You jump over Charlie and run to the front door, yanking it open. Thank fuck it’s not locked. There is a car pulling up to the farm, and you scream for help.

“Help me!” You cry out in pain when Charlie grabs your hair tightly. He yanks you away from the door and slams it shut. “Let go of me, you psycho!”

The front door is kicked in, and the FBI swarms in with guns raised. Charlie puts you in front of him and presses the sharp tip of a knife to your throat. Where the hell did he get that from?

“Charlie Jones! Drop the knife,” Emily demands.

Your eyes immediately find Spencer’s, and you know you’re going to be okay. Even if he stabs you. Spencer is here. He always takes care of you.

“I’m not going to do that. You don’t understand. We were meant to be together!”

“Look at her, man,” Luke says, “you’re scaring her. Do you really want to do that to the woman you love?”

“She’s scared because you’re pointing your guns at her!”

“Okay, I’m putting my gun away,” Spencer says as he steps forward. No one else does, but Charlie isn’t focused on them. “I know you love her. I saw your wall. You don’t like me very much, do you?”

“You took her away from me,” Charlie growls.

“You can have her.” You try not to be hurt knowing he is just trying to talk him down. Spencer is just saying anything to get Charlie away from you. “If you care about her, Charlie, if you want a life with her, then you’ll let her go. She can’t give you children if she’s hurt or dead.”

“She was always meant to be with me.”

“I know. I just need to know she won’t get hurt. I care about her, too, but I know you love her. Just let her go, and you two can go back to your life here.”

The hesitation on Charlie’s part is all Emily needs to take the shot. He loosens his grip on you, and you duck just in time for Emily to shoot Charlie in the head. You immediately run into Spencer’s arms, and he holds you tightly as the others make a quick sweep of the place.

“You’re safe, Y/N. I’m sorry for saying those things.”

“No, you saved me.” You lean up and kiss him. “I love you.”

The paramedics come to check you out, and Spencer is by your side the whole time. The rest of his team is standing by their cars, whispering to each other. It’s out now. Everyone knows Spencer is dating the hot model.

“Spencer, I think they know now,” you giggle.

“Yeah, I know. I’ll introduce you.”

Charlie injected you with a local anesthetic to knock you out, so you’ll feel much better in the morning. You’re good to go. Spencer walks you over to the group, and he sees that JJ is on FaceTime with Penelope.

“Guys, this is Y/N, my girlfriend.”

“Hi, I’ve heard so much about all of you,” you smile.

“Funny. We never heard a thing about you.”

“My fault. I know.”

“I’d love to get to know all of you. Maybe next week we can all have lunch at my place. You know, after I get it all cleaned up.”

“Are you okay? He better not have hurt you. I’ll beat his ass in the afterlife,” Penelope says protectively.

“No, not much. He just had me make him dinner. He kissed me. It was gross.” You lean into Spencer. “I’m okay now.”

It’s nice to finally be able to talk to the people he calls his second family. There will always be people like Charlie out there who want to hurt you, but you know you’ll be okay with a whole team of FBI agents behind you.

x

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[juliettejwnewinesa]

hellloo , so sorry for this but is it possible for an insecure reader abt her physical looks and baku tries and help to remind her how beautiful she is and then slowly turns into soft smut ?? sorry🫣🫣

Hiiii no need to be sorry at all 🥺💕 your request is super sweet and totally possible

Title: You're Mine, Beautiful Pairing: Hwang Humin x Insecure!Reader Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Soft Smut Word Count: ~4.1k Warnings: Body image insecurities, crying, emotional vulnerability, gentle reassurance, soft smut, praising, protected sex, safe aftercare, soft dom!Humin Note: This takes place in a peaceful domestic setting—just Humin and you, in the quiet safety of his room.

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

You sat on the edge of the bed with your knees pulled up to your chest, arms wrapped tightly around them. Humin was in the bathroom, brushing his teeth and humming some tune under his breath, unaware that your chest felt like it was caving in.

Your eyes burned, not from exhaustion, but from holding back the tears all evening.

You had tried to hide it. You always tried to hide it.

But tonight, every glance in the mirror had felt like a confirmation of every quiet fear. Your stomach. Your thighs. The way your clothes sat. The way nothing ever seemed… right.

You buried your face into your hoodie sleeves.

You hated feeling like this. Weak. Ugly. Small.

The door opened and you quickly looked away, pretending to scroll through your phone.

Humin padded into the room, barefoot, towel slung over his shoulder, his hair damp from the shower. He froze when he caught the look on your face—too still, too quiet. He knew you too well.

He crouched in front of you, hand reaching to gently push your hair behind your ear.

"Hey," he said softly, voice low and patient. "What’s going on?"

You swallowed hard, shaking your head. "Nothing. I'm fine."

“You’re a shit liar,” he murmured, not unkindly. “C’mere.”

You didn’t resist when he coaxed you into his arms, burying your face against his chest. His shirt was soft, and he smelled like clean laundry and cedarwood shampoo. You clung to him without meaning to.

"I just..." Your voice cracked. "I don't feel pretty. Or... enough. I look at myself and I hate it. I feel disgusting. I know it's stupid, but I—"

“Stop,” he said immediately, firmly, but not harsh. He pulled back just enough to cup your face. His thumbs wiped under your eyes.

“It’s not stupid,” he whispered. “Don’t ever say that again.”

Your lip trembled, and he kissed the center of your forehead.

“You’re beautiful,” he said.

You gave him a small, skeptical laugh, but he didn’t waver. His eyes searched yours, steady and warm.

“No. Listen to me, Y/N. I’m serious.” His hands moved to your waist, fingers curling around your sides. ��I don’t want you to think you have to hide from me. Not like this. Especially not over your body.”

You bit your lip, looking down.

“I just don’t see what you see,” you whispered.

He took a breath, then carefully guided you to lie back on the bed. He hovered over you, keeping space between your bodies.

“I know,” he said gently. “But maybe I can show you.”

You blinked. “What do you mean?”

His eyes softened even more. “Let me remind you how beautiful you are. Let me take my time with you.”

Your breath caught, heart stuttering in your chest.

“You sure?” you asked, barely above a whisper.

“I wouldn’t be asking if I wasn’t,” he murmured. “But only if you want it too.”

You hesitated. But with the way he was looking at you — like you were something fragile and precious, not broken — you nodded.

“…Okay.”

Humin kissed you softly at first. No rush. No pressure. Just a whisper of lips against yours. He kissed your cheek next. Then your jaw. Then down the slope of your neck, whispering affirmations between each one.

“So pretty.”

“Can’t believe you don’t see it.”

His hands slid under your hoodie slowly, warming your skin. You tensed, instinctively.

“Hey, hey,” he whispered, pulling back. “You’re okay. We’ll go slow.”

You nodded, trying to breathe.

He helped you take it off gently, like he was undressing something sacred.

When he saw you—really saw you—his eyes didn’t flinch. Didn’t judge. They just softened further, full of that same aching tenderness.

“Perfect,” he whispered, fingers brushing over your sides. “Every part of you. Right here? I love this.”

He kissed your stomach, making you shiver.

“Here too,” he said, kissing your hip.

“And these thighs?” he murmured, dragging his hands down, spreading them gently so he could slot between. “Gorgeous.”

By the time he kissed back up to your lips, your eyes were wet for a whole different reason.

He kept it slow. Kept you grounded.

Every touch was permission. Every kiss a reassurance.

When you finally let him take the rest of your clothes off, he treated it like something sacred.

“You’re breathtaking,” he murmured, taking you in. “I mean it. And I’ll keep saying it until you believe it.”

When he undressed himself, he didn’t rush. He let you look, let you breathe.

“Still okay?” he asked, hand resting beside your head.

You nodded, whispering, “Please.”

The first time he pushed inside you, you clutched his shoulders, overwhelmed by how gentle he was—how he waited, how he listened to your body, how he whispered things like:

“Just like that, baby.”

“You’re doing so good.”

“You feel so good around me.”

He moved slow, grinding his hips deep and careful, kissing you through every moan, holding your hand.

You cried again, silently this time, overwhelmed by how seen you felt. Not just touched. Seen.

“You okay?” he asked, immediately stilling.

“Yeah,” you whispered, tightening your grip on him. “I just… didn’t know it could feel like this.”

He kissed the corner of your mouth.

“This is what you deserve,” he murmured. “Every time. Someone who sees all of you and still wants to worship it.”

He moved again, slower, deeper, whispering more praise against your lips.

“So pretty like this.”

“So good for me.”

“I love seeing you like this, Y/N.”

Your orgasm snuck up on you, sweet and warm and overwhelming, making you cling to him like a lifeline. He followed soon after, gasping your name into your neck as he came, his body shuddering.

Later, he cleaned you up gently, holding you to his chest while stroking your hair.

“You’re not disgusting,” he whispered. “You never were.”

You blinked up at him sleepily, heart still thudding.

“You mean it?” you asked.

He nodded.

“I love your body,” he said softly. “But I also love you. Every thought. Every dumb laugh. Every insecurity you try to hide. I want all of it.”

You buried your face into his chest again.

“You’re too good to me,” you mumbled.

“No,” he said, kissing your hair. “I’m exactly what you deserve.”

End.

[moonwalkingprincess]

Mockingbird p8: Why can't you forgive my dad?

Summary: Hailee tries to make everything right with you again

words: 1345

Warnings: Child guilt, Alaina taking responsibilty for Hailee, depression, breakup, etc. Em crying.

Pairings: Eminem x singer reader

Eminem was still in the same clothes as the day you left him. Same underwear, same shirt. He had taken off his hoodie and pants because it was too warm to lie in bed with them. The TV was on. He had been watching it for days. He’d been watching your favorite show, and your favorite Disney movie—everything you loved to watch. He held one of your lipsticks that you had forgotten in his bathroom. Tears streamed down his cheek like raindrops on a car window. He was playing with the lipstick when he heard a light knock on the door. Alaina opened the door and peeked inside.

“Uncle Marshall… we had breakfast, but someone has to drive us to school…” she said quietly.

Shame rushed through his body, and he turned off the TV immediately.

“I’m sorry, sweetie,” he said and kissed her on the head. He walked out to the kitchen and then into the hallway. Hailee was dressed and ready. Alaina must have stepped up as the big cousin and helped out—but she was used to this. She was usually the one making food, helping Hailee get dressed, helping with homework… but she hadn’t had to do that in a long time—not since Em got sober.

“I’m sorry. I’ll pull myself together…” he said and wiped the tears from his cheeks before putting on his outerwear. Hailee stood silently in the hallway with her hat in her hand, but when she saw his red eyes and trembling hands trying to wipe away the tears, she froze.

“Daddy…” she whispered, almost inaudibly.

He turned slowly. There was something in his eyes—broken, transparent—that tightened her chest. She took a step closer.

“It’s okay,” he said with a half-smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I just feel a little down sometimes.”

But it wasn’t okay. Not for her. Not when she knew she was the reason it was happening. It was her fault. Maybe it was wrong, the way she brought mom back into the picture…

Y/N was in the kitchen. You hadn’t been home for weeks. It felt strange being in your own house again. You looked out the window, watching snow fall from the sky, a cup of tea in your hand. South Park was playing on the TV—Marshall’s favorite. You were wearing his sweater, still loving his scent even though it hurt so much… what he had done. You missed him. He always made you smile, and he was always honest with you. That was actually one of his flaws too—he could say things that hurt sometimes. But many guys… many guys say exactly what you want to hear and deceive you. Marshall was always honest. You also felt so safe around him. Who would mess with Eminem’s girl? Suddenly, the doorbell rang. You frowned. It was the middle of the day—who could it be?

When you opened the door, Hailee was standing there, her backpack hanging off one shoulder and her hair in a messy ponytail. Her eyes were red.

“Hailee?” you said, surprised. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be in school?”

Hailee swallowed hard and shook her head. You noticed how she tugged on her sleeve, like she wanted to hide in it.

“Come in,” you said quickly, stepping aside. “You’re freezing.”

Hailee stepped inside, quiet and tense. She sat down at the kitchen table without a word. You closed the door behind her. “Does your dad know you’re here?” you asked. She nodded yes. You sighed. You knew she was lying. Marshall would never let her wander around alone. You glanced at the clock. “Are you hungry?” you asked, and she nodded. You began making a sandwich. You knew now wasn’t the time to push her.

“Do you want peanut butter and jelly?” you asked gently.

Hailee nodded. You pulled out the ingredients and started preparing it. She stared at you for a moment before whispering:

“Dad cried this morning.”

You raised your eyebrows but said nothing. You just waited.

“He misses you,” Hailee said quietly. “I think.”

You smiled sadly and let out a small laugh, mostly to keep it together. You set down the knife and pushed the sandwich toward her.

“I miss him too,” you said honestly. “But sometimes… love isn’t always enough.”

Hailee looked down at the table.

“It feels like everything got weird after you left. He tries, but he gets so tired. And angry. And sad.”

You leaned forward slightly and placed your hand over hers.

“I know, sweetheart. It’s hard for him. And for you. But you must never believe this is your fault.”

“But it was…” she said quietly.

You swallowed hard, feeling the world stop for a second.

“What do you mean?” you asked gently.

Hailee stared at the sandwich like she couldn’t see it anymore.

“I called Mom,” she whispered. “I wanted them to get back together. I wanted him to leave you… that’s why I called her.”

The silence between you was heavy. Your heart pounded, but you didn’t show it.

“I thought everything would be better if it was just us again. I was mad. I missed her. And I knew Dad loved you, but I… I wanted everything to go back to the way it was before. Before everything got hard.”

You took a deep breath and reached across the table, placing your hand on hers. Her little hand trembled.

“Hailee… it’s okay to feel that way. You weren’t trying to hurt anyone. You were just sad. And kids are allowed to wish for things. That doesn’t mean it’s your fault anything ended.”

“But he was so happy with you…” she mumbled, tears running down her cheeks. “And I ruined it.”

You slowly stood up and walked around the table. Knelt beside her and wrapped your arms around her.

“No, sweetheart. You didn’t ruin anything. You’re a child who wants to feel safe. It’s the adults’ job to manage their relationships—not yours.”

She leaned into your arms, face pressed against your shoulder. “But maybe you hate me now…”

You shook your head and held her tighter. “I could never hate you. You mean too much to me. I’m so glad you came here. That you dared to tell me. That shows how brave you are.”

You sat in silence for a while. The only sound was the hum of the fridge in the background, a soft buzz amidst all the heaviness.

“Why can’t you forgive Dad…” Hailee suddenly asked, her voice small but honest.

You hesitated. Your heart ached—not with anger, but with grief.

“It’s more complicated than that,” you answered softly. “When you’re older… you’ll understand more.”

“But you still love him,” she said, almost accusingly. “I can see it. He loves you too.”

You smiled faintly. “Love isn’t always enough, Hailee. Sometimes… there are wounds that don’t heal just because we want them to.”

She looked down at the table again. “But he’s trying.”

“I know,” you said. “And I’m proud of him for that. For your sake. But I have to take care of myself too.”

Hailee sighed. “I hate that everything has to be so hard.”

“I know, sweetheart. I do too.”

You leaned forward and brushed a strand of hair from her forehead. “But one thing you must never forget: you are not responsible for fixing this. It’s not your job to make us love each other again. We do what we can… but sometimes things don’t turn out the way we hoped. And that has to be okay too.”

She nodded slowly, but the tears returned.

“So, I should probably call your dad and let him know you’re here. How did you even get here, by the way?”

“I'm Eminem’s daughter, It has it's perks” she said simply, then took a big bite of the sandwich you made for her.

Masterlist

[sab0dssey]

I LOOOVVVEEE BIG BABY GHOST. ۫ ꣑ৎ . Simon Ghost Riley x f!reader

Husband!Simon who is a totally a big baby with you. He’ll come after from mission or work, the thing he done first is throwing you to bed and cuddling you. His head on your chest, his arms wrapped around your legs. If you stop caressing his back and hair while he was tryna sleep, he’ll groan and bit your arm.—Don’t worry biting is his love language— When he fell asleep he hear nothing. Is TV volume on full? He won’t hear it.—Because of his snores—

Husband!Simon who never take off his ring. —Except dangerous missions.— His ring is a symbol of his love for his wifey.

Husband!Simon never touch, never talk or never even makes an eye contact with any women. He has his own woman so he don’t need any other woman. He is very devoted and devoted to his wife. He has eyes for no one but her. It is as if a spell has been cast on him, and no one except his own girl interests him. What a man…

Husband!Simon who enjoys walking around the house shirtless. He knows you enjoyed his muscular body. Especially his back and biceps…He teases you with doing that. Enjoys your hands roaming around his muscular top.

Husband!Simon loves to tattoo small things about you. The tattoos of things reminding him you. He’s not always at home, so he wants to remind himself about you you. He already has your photo on his wallet, but he thinks it’s not enough. This man is so in love.

Husband!Simon if you stole his wallet and went shopping without telling him. Damn, he never complains. He LOVES you spending his money. Because after all he loves to spoil you. —If you won’t spend his money, don’t worry, he’ll buy expensive things for you— He actually turns on when you came with shopping bags, and that bratty attitude of yours…

Husband!Simon knows his teammates. And he knows how asshole are them. So he always hides you from them. They know Simon is married—They learned that he’s married, after 2 years later of his wedding, don’t mention that..— But his teammates never saw her face, or never knows her name. Because Simon mentions you, if that’s necessary, saying My wife.

Husband!Simon his ego is high. He always wants to win arguments. It just…his nature, y’know. He feels good when he wins an argument. It's like being right, satisfies his ego. Even when he's in a situation where he can't be right about something, he finds a way to be right. It's always been like this.

“Don’t I said don’t go somewhere without telling me?! Do you have ANY idea how I felt when I couldn’t saw you at home, when you already said you’ll be waiting me at home?!” He yelled. His ears turned red from anger—mostly from panic— His hands turned to fists. The veins in his forehead, arms and hands would’ve be seen from meters away.

He rubbed his forehead, trying to calm himself down. His head snapped towards your when he heard a soft, quiet, “‘M sorry…” from you. Head bowed down, fidgeting her fingers.

That’s it. That’s all he needed. That’s allll his anger needed to hear, to ease. He melted like a butter on sun. He exhaled all breath from his body. And then pulled her to his chest, wrapped his arms around her fragile body. Holding her head on his chest tightly. He regretted everything in that moment. He regretted for yelling her. He regretted for being angry to her.

“‘s alright, darling…” he breathed into her vanilla scented hair. He was short tempered man. But not to her. He would yell anybody who pissed him off. He would yell until his throat aches. But when he saw his girl’s tearfilled, puppy eyes he would melt immediately. He would have forget even his own name, let alone his anger…

(*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ

[homeofthelonelywriter]

The boys still couldn’t believe it. They had just taken down Makarov, Johnny barely surviving it, and now they were somewhere in America, in a beach house with a strip of private beach. All curtesy of Kate, apparently it belonged to her family but was hardly used, so the boys using it was a welcome change.

They had been uncertain if they wanted to accept the (paid for) vacation, but after they all finally got released from the hospital, Price decided it was time for a break and some relaxation. So, they packed their bags and flew to the States. Kate had given them a brief introduction on what was where over the phone and the excitement grew, especially when she mentioned that there was scuba diving equipment.

So, the moment they arrived, after quickly dumping their stuff in the entry way and changing, they grabbed the equipment and set out into the waters. Even Simon couldn’t suppress a small smile or hide his excitement. At first, they stayed fairly close to the surface, but after Johnny saw a colorful fish he wanted to follow, they continued on into deeper waters. And that was when they heard it.

At first, it sounded like a wounded animal, but nothing like anything they had heard before. Either way, a sudden protectiveness coursed through them as they followed the sound to the source. And then they saw it. Or rather her. You.

Your tail had gotten stuck in an abandoned fishing net and you couldn’t get out. Originally, you had tried to reach your people with your cries, but no one came. Well, except for these four men suddenly in front of you. The few encounters you had with humans so far, had never ended well, so no one could blame you when you shrunk back in fear, reaching for the dagger that usually rested in its sheath on your hip, but you had lost it when you tried to free yourself earlier.

The men and you starred at each other for a few moments, before one of them approached. Immediately you tried to swim away, momentarily forgetting about the net, but you were immediately pulled back as the rope cut into your scales. A pained wail escaped you, as blood slowly seeped into the water. The man quickly raised his hands, before slowly gesturing to the net and then to his thigh, where you could see a small knife. You could see his eyebrows raise, as if asking for permission, and you slowly nodded, hoping that they would just let you go afterwards.

He mirrored your nod, before slowly approaching you and taking out his knife. With precision that was unknown to you, he cut through the rope until you were free. Out of reflex, you darted away, your tail swishing hard enough to send the man back a bit, making him loose his grip on the knife and you watched as it disappeared into the darkness. You glanced back at the four, before diving into the darkness, after the knife. Along with it, you found your dagger, which you put back in its place, before swimming back up, just to see the four still there, as if they hadn’t moved. Slowly, you swam up to the man who freed you and held out the knife with both hands, a small smile gracing your lips.

He took it from you, nodding in thanks. After one more glance over all of them, you turned around and swam back to your home, taking a few detours in case they were following you. But when you came to rest later that day, you mind stayed with the men. No matter what you did, you couldn’t stop thinking about them. And little did you know that they had the exact same problem.

Pt. 2 Pt. 3

A/N: Inspired by a post by @beloveds-embrace. Should I continue this?

[agxxb]

We All Need Joel’s Help .𖥔 ݁ ˖

joel miller x f!reader

summary: after ellie embarrasses joel at the winter dance, you help take his mind off of it.

warnings: smut. fluff. angst. unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!). use of pet names (sweetheart, honey, my love, darling). praise. age gap (reader is in her 30s, joel is his age in the second season). no mention of y/n. [ 4k ]

You saw Seth's outburst at Ellie and Dina firsthand, and Joel's reaction was immediate — his body tense, fists clenched at his sides. He pushed his body away from the bar he stood at beside you, rushing forward and placing his hands on the older man, the entire town watching Seth fall to the floor from Joel’s forceful shove.

Ellie’s face was frozen in horror, but it was anger that burned through most vividly. She watched as Maria rushed to pull Seth away, then turned her eyes to Joel – the man who had become a father to her – standing there, silently waiting to ask if she was alright.

That’s when everything fell apart.

“I don’t need your fucking help.”

The entire hall fell silent, the weight of Joel’s pain hanging in the air, and he took a step back, his chest tightening with a pain that was sharper than any blade. His eyes locked onto Ellie, but all he found was a hardness in her eyes that he had never seen before. The harsh words hung in the air, and for a moment the world seemed to fade away. It was as if time had frozen, the silence so loud it deafened everyone in the hall. Then everything came crashing back. The hum of electricity, your breathing, the sound of Joel’s boots on the ground as he walked forward and out of the church. Acting on nothing but instinct, you gave Ellie a small, tight-lipped smile as you past her and followed Joel outside.

The sudden cold hit you as you walked outside, the temperature having dropped significantly despite it only being an hour or so since you entered the church. The lights of Jackson were dim compared to the lively glow of the dance. You spotted Joel's tall, broad figure stood by a lamp near the church, one hand running through his hair as his head tilted downwards.

"Joel?” You started, and his attention snapped over to you as you approached, head lifting to meet your gaze.

You heard the quiet sniffle that he tried to hide and watched as he brought his hand up to wipe away a tear. A beat of silence passed as you took a few steps closer, then another. And another. You stopped when you were less than a meter away, the light from the lamp illuminating Joel’s features. His face was weary and gaunt, the years showing themselves on his tired, sad eyes. You wanted to reach out to him… To comfort him…

"You alright?" You heard yourself ask, and the moment the words left your mouth you knew it was a dumb question.

He let out a scoff in response, hand dropping to his side as he moved to lean back against the wall of the building next to the church. He was quiet, his gaze falling to the ground, eyes glossy. You gave him a soft smile, a small one that held both love and understanding. Silence fell once more as you studied Joel’s figure, his shoulders slumped and head lowered in defeat. He looked broken, as if everything was finally catching up to him. And in a way, it probably was.

You knew better than to try and get Joel to talk about how he was feeling. He wasn't one to talk about his emotions, not even with you. Instead, you took in a deep breath and allowed the silence to envelope you both once more. You leaned against the wall beside him, not wanting him to be alone in that moment.

"She hates me."

You turned your head to look at him, hand reaching out to touch his, trying to ground him. "She doesn't. She's just angry because she wanted to handle the situation herself."

"I just wanted to protect her," he said, voice thick and full of emotion. “What that asshole said was out of line.”

“I know, my love.” You reached for his hand and laced your fingers with his, giving it a gentle squeeze. “You did what you thought was right, and no one can fault you for that.”

He still wasn't looking at you, instead staring down at your hand, his thumb gently stroking over your skin as his fingers wrapped around your own. He was silent for a moment as he processed your words.

"But it still hurt her,” he admitted finally, his voice soft yet rough.

You nodded in understanding, your heart felt heavy seeing Joel this way. "I know," you replied gently, “But trust me when I say that she'll come around. She just needs some time to process everything."

Joel said nothing in response, his eyes now having returned to looking at the ground. You could tell he was still beating himself up over the entire situation.

"Come here.”

You let go of his hand and moved to stand in front of him, arms open for him to fall into. He didn’t hesitate, and you felt his head rest against your shoulder as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer. He buried his face into the crook of your neck, instantly feeling the dampness of his tears on your skin. You held him tightly, one hand moving to gently stroke his greying hair as the other rubbed circles across his back.

"It's okay," you whispered, trying to soothe his pain. "It's going to be okay."

You felt him take in a deep, shaky breath as he pulled you even closer, his grip on you tightening. He stayed as he was for a while, silent save for the occasional soft sob or quiet sniffle that escaped him. His weight against you was comforting, and you continued to hold him, providing a safe place for him to let out his pain and frustration.

He shook his head lightly against you, and you heard his voice, muffled by the fabric of your clothes. "I just... I want her to be happy. I miss her."

You nodded, and even though you knew he couldn't see it, he could feel it. "I know, honey. She just needs some time to cool off, that's all.”

There was a moment of silence as Joel held onto you, and you could feel the tremors running through his body as he tried to contain his emotions. You continued to run your hand up and down his back, not saying a word, just allowing him to feel whatever he needed to feel. After several moments, he pulled away slightly and looked at you, his face tear-streaked. Your heart broke seeing him like this, so vulnerable and hurting. So, you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his temple, right above his scar.

"Let's get you home, yeah?”

He nodded, a final sniffle leaving him before he pulled back from the embrace. You interlocked your fingers with his once again as you turned and began walking together, the snow-dusted dirt crunching beneath your boots.

As you walked through the streets of Jackson, the town was quiet and peaceful, the only sounds coming from the soft crunch of snow beneath your feet and the faint music in the distance. Tall lamps on the sides of the roads gave off a soft, warm glow, and the houses had large porches wrapped around the outer walls. You could see glimpses of the town's residents inside their homes through the windows, warm fires burning in the fireplaces and the low hums of conversation. There was comfort in the silence, in the way your shoulders brushed every so often.

It didn’t take long for the two of you to reach home. When you stepped into the house, it was warm despite having no heat source on for a few hours. You flicked on the nearest lamp, letting the soft orange glow fill the room, and turned to Joel as you shrugged off your jacket. You saw the exhaustion in his features, the deep bags under his eyes and the slump in his shoulders. He shut the door behind the two of you and walked over to the couch, collapsing down onto it with a huff.

"I'm gonna grab something to drink, you want anything?" you asked softly, stepping closer to him.

He shook his head, but just as you were about to turn and head toward the kitchen, you felt a hand grab yours. Joel pulled you around, making you face him. Without saying a word, he tugged you closer until you were standing between his legs. You let out a small noise of surprise but quickly settled, your hip pressed against the edge of the couch. You could see Joel's face clearly now, illuminated by a shaft of moonlight streaming in from the window.

He was watching you closely, eyes roaming your face like he was trying to commit every feature to memory. His grip on your hand tightened, drawing you closer still. His other hand moved to rest on your thigh, thumb rubbing gentle circles into your jeans. You felt butterflies in your stomach as he looked at you, his touch sending electric shocks through your body. You placed a hand on top of his that was resting on your leg, gently tracing your fingertips over his knuckles.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Joel spoke quietly, his voice gruff but holding so much love. He lifted your hand, bringing it up to his lips and pressing a soft kiss against the back. “I love you.”

It was like a bolt of lightning striking through you at his words. No matter how many times he said it, your heart skipped a beat.

"I love you too," you replied, your voice barely a whisper. You brought your other hand up to cup his cheek, thumb brushing across the scruffy facial hair along his jawline.

His eyes fluttered shut at your touch, and he leaned into your hand, seeking out your touch like a man starved of affection. You couldn’t deny that you enjoyed this side of Joel — the vulnerable, tender side that only came out when he was with you.

“Still can’t believe ya want me,” he mumbled against your hand, his breath sending a shiver down your spine. “Don't know how you put up with me.”

“Always have, always will,” you promised, gently running your fingers through his hair, the silvering strands soft against your touch. “And quite easily, believe it or not.” He cracked an eye open, looking at you like he didn't quite believe you. You smiled softly and cupped his face in your hands. “I love you. That’s not gonna change just because you and El are going through a rough patch.”

Joel let out a small huff at your words, and you saw the corners of his lips pulled up in a slight smile. He leaned into your touch once more, eyes closing as he savored the feeling of your hands on his face.

“She’s pissed off with me,” he said after a moment, his voice barely above a whisper. “Can’t really blame her.” He sighed. “I just... I dunno, feel like I keep messing up with her, ya know?”

“It’ll work out.”

Joel was silent as he looked up at you, his expression softening even more. He lifted a hand to rest against your cheek, his thumb gently caressing your cheek, the calloused skin rough against your own. You leaned into his touch, a sigh escaping you as your eyes fluttered shut for a moment. It felt nice to have these moments of comfort with each other, in the midst of all the chaos that was constantly happening around you.

"I hope so," Joel said after a moment of silence, and you both knew he was talking about more than just his relationship with Ellie.

You opened your eyes to look at him, feeling a little pang in your heart at the pain that was visible on his face. He looked tired, like he had been battling demons on his own for far too long.

"Hey," you said softly, your hand moving to cover his, "You're doing the best you can. You have to give yourself some credit for that."

Joel let out a scoff, his gaze drifting away from your face to look at something in the distance. "Doesn't feel like it."

You could feel the guilt and blame radiating off him, and it pained you to see him like this. You frowned at his words, not liking how he was talking about himself. "Stop that," you said firmly and brought your hand up to his chin, tilting his head to look at you again. "You need to stop being so hard on yourself."

He let out a gruff sound that was somewhere between a scoff and a hum, but he didn't argue. Instead, his thumb brushed over your cheek again, his touch gentle yet firm.

"Sometimes my best doesn't feel like enough, ya know?"

You nodded, understanding the weight of those words all too well. "I know, but it is," you promised him. "You may not see it, but you're doing more than enough." You lifted a hand to gently touch his shoulder, feeling the tension beneath your fingertips. "You're only one person, Joel. You can't save everyone."

His eyes flicked up to meet yours, searching for any sign of a lie or doubt. When he found none, he let out a sigh and leaned his forehead against your chest, his grip on your waist tightening. You could feel the tension leaving his body as he leaned into you. His head rested just above your heart, the steady rhythm of your pulse filling his ears. It was a comforting sound, grounding him in the moment, reminding him that he wasn't alone. And here in your arms, he felt safer than he had in years.

"I just want to protect you all," he mumbled, his voice slightly muffled. "I'm scared of losing you."

Your fingers running gently across his broad shoulders, tracing small patterns as he let his guard down. He was strong and capable, but even the toughest man could break.

"You've already saved so many people," you reminded him, your voice soft. "Including me." You leaned down so your chin rested atop his head. "You're not alone in this, Joel. I'm here for you. Always."

He finally lifted his head, looking up at you from where you were perched on his lap. His eyes were tired but filled with love. He reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind you ear, his thumb gently tracing along your jaw before sliding down to rest on your chin. The corners of his mouth tugged up into a small smile and his eyes were glossy. You could see the raw emotion in them. It was rare that he let himself be this vulnerable, and it only happened when he was with you.

He didn't say anything, his hand coming up to slide up your leg, fingertips leaving trails of heat in their wake. You shivered slightly at his touch, the heat of his hand seeping through your jeans. Your breath hitched in your throat as his fingers slid under your shirt, hand pausing at the spot just above the waistband, his thumb rubbing small circles into the sensitive skin. You felt yourself leaning into his touch, unable to resist the magnetic pull between you. This is what it meant to feel alive. To feel his hands on you, knowing that he was there, that you had each other.

It was a feeling you'd never get tired of.

He was watching you closely, his gaze filled with both heat and hesitation. You felt your heart rate quicken, the intensity of his look coupled with his touch driving you crazy. You knew he was asking a silent question, and with a slight movement of your hips, you gave him an answer.

His breathing hitched in his throat as you shifted on his lap, the movement bringing you even closer together. You felt his grip on your hip tighten, his fingers digging into your flesh ever so slightly. There was a moment of hesitation, a split second where the both of you held your breaths, and then he was pulling you down, crashing his lips against your own. The kiss was heated and hungry, as if he was starving for the taste of you. His tongue immediately sought entrance, and you willingly obliged, your own tongue meeting his in a desperate dance as your hands moved to cradle his face.

The two of you were pressed tightly against each other, and you could feel his body heat seeping through your clothes, the heat from his kiss adding to the flush that was probably evident on your cheeks by now. His hands were everywhere — on your hips, in your hair, slipping beneath your shirt to feel the soft skin of your back. The kiss was frenzied, the desperation in his touch sending your head spinning. You both needed this, needed the connection, the reassurance. He pulled back for a moment, his breath coming out in ragged gasps, but the look he gave you held a clear message — he wasn't done with you yet.

He kissed you again and you let out a soft moan, your fingers tangling in his long, greying hair. The feel of his lips on yours was enough to send you spiraling, the heat coiling deep in your belly. His hands moved back down to your hips, gripping tight as he pulled you flush against him, your body molding against the hard planes of his. You could feel him hardening beneath you, the knowledge sending tendrils of electricity throughout your body.

His hands slowly moved up your sides, calloused fingers skimming your ribcage, causing you to shiver. His touch was both rough and gentle, a contradiction that only served to drive you even crazier. You ground down against him, wanting nothing more than to feel closer to him, every touch and kiss leaving you needing more.

He pulled back momentarily, his gaze roaming over your face, taking in the flushed cheeks, the parted lips, the heavy-lidded eyes that were filled with desire. You began placing a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses down his neck, nipping at the sensitive skin as you went. The sound of your name slipped from his lips as you nipped at the spot just below his ear.

“God, darlin’," he murmured, voice thick with need. "You're driving me insane."

You pulled back slightly with a small grin. “Yeah?”

His eyes locked with yours, the intensity behind them making your heart skip a beat. "You have any idea what you do to me?"

You ground down on his lap again, biting your bottom lip as a groan left him. “I can feel the effect I have on you.”

His grip on your hips tightened, holding you in place as you rubbed yourself against him, the friction causing a curse to escape his lips. He dropped his head to your shoulder, his breath hot against your skin.

"You're gonna be the death of me, ya know that?" he rasped out, his voice low and filled with want.

“After everything you’ve been through, you’ll end up dying in a funny way — like slipping on a golf course or something.”

He huffed out a laugh against your shoulder, vibrations sending ripples of pleasure through you. He lifted his head, a smirk tugging at his lips. He shifted against you, the action causing his groin to press up into yours, and you felt the hard length of him press against you, even through the layers of clothes.

Your breath hitched in your throat at the feeling, and he let out a soft chuckle. "You're hilarious, ya know that?”

You couldn't help but let out a soft moan, your hips involuntarily bucking against him, seeking that delicious friction. His grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into your skin, a gesture that only heightened the desire coursing through you. He shifted again, his grip on your hips tight as he ground up into you, his eyes never leaving your face.

"I have my moments,” you managed to gasp out, your hands going to his shoulders to steady yourself.

He chuckled softly, his gaze flicking down to your flushed face, the desire in his expression nearly pushing you over the edge. "Oh, I know," he murmured, his voice deep and rough. He shifted again, his hips rolling against yours, creating friction that had you biting back a moan.

His fingers moved from your hips up to your waist, the gesture almost reverent, like he was touching something precious. He tugged you closer, his body heat seeping through you even through the thin shirt you were wearing. Your hands slid down from his shoulders, moving to his chest and fingers playing with the buttons of his flannel shirt, a silent request to get his consent to go further.

His eyes flicked down to your hands as they played with the buttons of his shirt, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He gave you a quick nod and you felt his grip on your hip loosen slightly, allowing you to move freely. He leaned back, resting against the couch and watching you with an intense gaze, his eyes dark with lust. You slowly unbuttoned his shirt, the fabric parting to reveal a toned chest beneath, sprinkled with scars and dusted with a light covering of hair. You traced your fingers over his skin, feeling the heat radiating from him, his muscles twitching faintly under your touch. Your eyes flicked up to his face and you saw his gaze was hooded, watching your every move with rapt attention.

He was the perfect blend of strength and snacks, body holding a soft armor of fatherhood.

You pulled back for a moment, breath coming out in short gasps. Joel's eyes were still fixed on you, his breathing just as erratic as he attempted to control his own desires. He could feel the heat radiating off your body, the tension between the two of you at its peak.

Your pause was met with a slight frown from Joel as you pulled back, his hands sliding up your arms, gripping your elbows. "Ya alright there, sweetheart?" he asked, disquiet evident in his voice.

You smiled, giving your man a slow, short nod. Gazing down at him – eyes hungry, heart full – you saw the want mirrored in his face, raw and unspoken. Right then, right there, you were exactly where you belonged.

“Never been better.”

There was a moment of silence, Joel's gaze studying you intently, his hands still holding your elbows. He could sense the sincerity in your words, and it caused a slight smile to pull at the corner of his lip.

His gaze dropped to your hands as you began unbuttoning your own shirt, the action causing his breath to hitch in his throat. The sight of your fingers moving, the movement of the fabric sliding down your shoulders... it was all driving him crazy.

“I’m one lucky son’a bitch,” he muttered to himself, his eyes following your every movement.

You dropped your hands as Joel's replaced yours, working to unbutton your shirt, his fingers deft and precise as they popped open the buttons one by one. His eyes were fixed on your skin, his breathing increasing in pace as more was revealed. He gently pushed the fabric aside, his gaze roaming over the newly exposed skin.

“You’re so beautiful.”

You smiled softly and thanked him, leaning forward to press your lips against his — this time much more soft, despite the urge still being there. He returned the kiss with equal softness, his grip on your elbows loosening as he allowed the moment to settle into something more tender. His hand came up to cup your face, his touch light and almost tentative. The kiss was gentle, a far cry from the heated passion of before, but no less intimate. The feel of his rough-worn fingers against your face a comfort as he deepened the kiss slightly, his tongue brushing against your bottom lip, seeking entrance.

You parted your lips in response, letting him in, your breaths mingling. His kisses were slow and thorough, his touch tender but firm. You could feel the heat building again, but it was different this time — less animalistic and more forbearing. His tongue glided against yours in a slow, lazy dance, as if he was savouring the taste of you. His other hand slid around your waist, pulling you even closer, the heat of his bare skin against yours driving you crazy.

You could feel his body respond instantly to your movements, his grip on your waist tightening as he let out a low groan. His lips left yours, trailing down your chin to the sensitive skin of your neck. His hands slid down to your hips, pulling you forward, grinding himself up into you. His teeth nipped at your pulse point, a desperate moan leaving your lips as you found yourself once again caught in a vehement moment with your lover.

Joel’s hands moved to the waistband of your jeans, struggling to undo them as you continued to move against him. He pulled away for a moment, looking down at where his hands worked to achieve his goal of taking your pants off. He tapped your thigh, a silent signal for you to stand, and – with your help – he managed to successfully pull them down, watching as you kicked them off before settling yourself back on his lap.

Once you were settled, his hands were on you again, impatiently sliding up your thighs, leaving scorching trails in their wake. His eyes were dark with desire, his breath coming in laboured gasps as he looked at you, his fingers digging into your skin.

“Need you,” you mumbled, hands lowering to his belt and pulling at it. You could feel the hardness of him pressing against you as you slid his belt through the loops of his jeans.

“Yeah?”

You nodded desperately, hands moving to undo the buttons of his jeans. You didn’t care if his shirt still hung around his shoulders or if his jeans weren’t entirely off — you just needed him inside you. You were soaked, all because of Joel Miller. There was something about the way his voice sounded when he spoke, so sweet and dominating, that made pleasure burn through you, making you want him even more.

You leaned forward to kiss him, your lips meeting his instantly. He kissed you almost desperately, like he was starving and you were the only thing that could possibly satisfy him. Your hands switched between resting on his chest and shoulders, pushing your underwear to the side as Joel pulled pulled himself from his boxers. He reached down and lined himself up before allowed you to sink down onto him. Your eyebrows furrowed together in pleasure, having him fill you to the brim. No matter how many times Joel fucked you, you would never get over how good he felt.

"Good girl," he murmured, voice rough. "That's my good girl."

"Oh, my god..."

You took a moment to collect yourself before lifting up and sinking back down onto him. He could feel your hands on his shoulders, your nails clawing at his skin, and it only turned him on more. You moaned as you moved, the sounds of your sopping wet pussy filling the room.

“That feel good, sweetheart?" Joel asked, voice strained with how good you felt wrapped around him.

"S-So good," you nodded, eyes closed in pleasure and moans falling freely from your pillowed lips. "So deep."

"Fuck," Joel moaned in response, eyes squeezing shut for a moment. The backs of your thighs hit his as you bounced, and it left you feeling dumb, no thoughts left in your head apart from how pretty Joel looked beneath you. His own lips parted as he reached his hands up, his thumbs brushing over your nipples as he stared as your tits in awe. “Just like that, darlin’, shit-"

He could feel every little gasp, every moan, every whimper you made, and it was driving him crazy. Despite often struggling with reaching an orgasm at his age, he could feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge, and he knew he couldn't hold back for much longer. You leaned down, his face just inches away from yours, and pressed your forehead against his. Joel suddenly slid his hand down your body, his thumb finding your clit and quickly rubbing it. You moaned loudly, nails scratching down his chest and leaving red marks in their wake.

"F-fuck!" you cried, the pleasure consuming you. You sped up, moving harder and rougher. He loved the sound of your voice, the way it changed as he touched you, the way it got higher and more desperate as you got closer.

"That's it," he rasped. "Let me hear how good you feel." He suddenly grabbed your hip, using it as leverage as he started to thrust up into you, his body tensing at the movement.

“Joel-” you whined, one hand moving to the back of his neck. You stared into his brown eyes, seeing nothing but love and desire in them. He knew you were close, could feel it in the way you moved, and he felt his own body grow taut in response.

His name on your lips sent a shiver down his spine, and he let out a soft moan, his grip on your hips tightening just a fraction. He pushed himself against you, his chest rumbling beneath your hand.

"Fuck, sweetheart," he murmured, his lips grazing against your jawline. His lips began to trail kisses down your neck, his kisses open mouthed and hot. His beard scratched against your skin, causing a moan to leave you at the feeling. “Doing such a good job for me.”

“Fuck,” you cried out, tears welling in your eyes as you looked down at him. “Y’look so good, Joel– Oh my god.” Another moan left you. “Want you to cum so deep inside me.”

Joel let out a low grown, his eyes dark with desire as he looked up at you. "Sweetheart, you're killin' me here." He pressed his face into your neck, hot breath against your skin, his fingers digging even further into your thighs in a vice grip.

“Need it, Joel — please.” He nodded against your shoulder, his eyes squeezed shut as his arms wrapped around your wait, holding you to him. His thrusts sped up, a clapping sound filling the air around you as his breathing became more laborious. “‘m gonna cum-!”

You pretty much screamed his name as you did, legs shaking around his hips with your arms hugging his head to your chest. He felt you tighten around him, felt your nails digging into his skin, and he couldn't hold back anymore.

"That’s it, sweetheart,” Joel mumbled, running purely on primal instincts now. Your tits bounced as he continued to fuck himself deeper into you. “Gonna- Fuck. Gonna cum, darlin’.”

“Inside me, cum inside me,” you pleaded, pressing kisses up and down his neck. “Please.”

Joel grabbed ahold of your hips, grinding his hips deep into yours a few more times before coming to a stop. He came hard, his body tensing up as he buried his face into your neck, his breath coming out in ragged gasps as he rode out his orgasm. You felt his cum fill you up, letting out a hum of content. He was breathing heavily, his body still shaking from the intensity of his release, and he couldn't remember ever feeling this good, this wrecked, this satisfied.

“Did I ever tell you that you’re really sexy when you’re angry and protective?”

[wqlfstqr]

◟𖥻 percy's girl : percy jackson

▰▰ pairing: percy jackson x fem!reader

Percy would let the world burn if that assured him y/n's happiness. Everyone knows it, except y/n herself.

warnings: jealous n overprotective percy, slight mentions of violence i really don't know if it counts, oblivious reader, no cabin mentioned for reader.

part 2 here

Everybody at camp halfblood knows by now not to mess with percy's girl— except, well, she isn't really percy's girl. At least not that she knew, but for everybody else? yes, she is his girl.

Hard to think about it in any other way when Percy walks around camp glaring at just anyone that even dares to look at her the wrong way. And when it comes to keeping her out of harm's way? He is practically a force of nature.

Percy doesn’t take y/n's happiness lightly, so anything that threatened that is handled by him without her even noticing.

She is probably the only person to come unharmed out of every Stoll prank, and it's definitely not for lack of trying. Connor and Travis like her enough not to pull anything dangerous, but that doesn’t mean they can let her get away without trying.

So everything was planned. A simple, classic, but effective bucket on the door. She only had to come out of her cabin for lunch and they would get her. Hiding in the bushes, Travis and Connor snicker once the door opens.

She is talking to Percy, that is walking behind her, but something makes him pause just when she steps exactly on the mark the Stolls had left. Percy clocks what is happening immediately, as if it was second nature, and he moves y/n out of the way just in time for the bucket to fall directly on him.

He ends up fully covered in chocolate syrup seconds later, but he couldn't care less. His only worry is— "you okay, sunshine?" he asks, wiping chocolate off his face.

She is, in fact, okay. But she's gaping at him, her eyes comically wide. "Oh my gods Percy, how did that happen?"

Oh he definitely knows how that happened, he can turn around right now and find the bush in which the Stoll brothers are hiding just by the sound of them snickering. He is going to kill them.

Still he shrugs. "I don't know, weird bucket placement." He replies casually. "Why don't you go ahead and wait for me in the pavillion? I'll take that bucket down."

"Weird things always seem to be happening around here, huh?" She raises her eyebrows, but happily obliged as she starts walking away.

Percy doesn't take the bucket down, he makes the Stoll brothers do it once he takes them out of their hiding. And the snickering doesn't last them much because as he's leaving, he glares at them. "You two better not try this bullshit with her again."

Listen, Connor and Travis are all about going against direct orders from everyone. But they don't try anything else after that, because Percy is scary when it comes to y/n and they are not about to end in the same position as that Ares son who had tried to flirt with her.

It had been after sword training, some Darren or Dane or something— Percy really did not care about his name, mostly because he was more occupied with glaring at him as he leaned a little bit too close to y/n.

He stood a few feet away from them, knowing that he couldn't intervene without y/n noticing but still fully preparing to do it just in case she got too uncomfortable. He knew her, she wouldn't say anything in fear of being rude. But Percy didn’t have that problem, he would gladly be rude if that meant keeping her safe.

So for now, he only stood with his back against a wall, pretending to sharpen riptide.

"You know, you should train with me sometime. I could teach you a few moves." He told her, smiling smuggly. Percy wished he could erase that smile right away.

And when she started hesitating, the son of Poseidon got ready to intervene. "um- I-" she stammered.

But Percy didn’t really have to do much, because as he was pushing himself off the wall, the Ares guy seemed to notice him, sharpening riptide and sending incredibly hard stares at his way.

Darren-Dane-whatever visibly gulped and took a step back. Percy smirked. Smart move.

As the boy excused himself and basically ran away, y/n blinked at him surprised before she turned to Percy. "Okay, that was weird."

Percy smiled innocently. "Right? so weird."

The next morning due to completely unrelated events, Darren-Dane-whatever ended up waking up in the lake, completely soaked without a single clue how he got there. Percy denied any relation to this weird incident.

Worst part about it all is that Percy swears people don't learn their lesson. While y/n is just walking around in her perfect sunny world, Percy is just following her, trying to maintain her world exactly as it is, free of assholes.

But gods dammit, those assholes don't make it easy for him.

When they're playing capture the flag, they end up on opposite teams and even though Percy is focused on getting that flag, he's also worried for her. He hasn't seen her around, but he knows she should be somewhere close because he has already seen some of her siblings running around.

It's only when he's close to the opposite team's flag that he finds her: she's supposed to be guarding the flag but she's crouched down near the lake, watching a butterfly that's perched on a flower, completely oblivious to the mayhem happening around her.

Percy stops abruptly, his heart racing at the sight. She looks completely at peace, lost in her own little world, the late afternoon sun tracing shadows on her face, it's like she belongs in a painting. So beautiful.

He's mesmerized for a second, flag completely forgotten. Then—

A blur of blue runs past him, pulling him out of trance. His mind barely registers one of his own teammates from cabin nine before the boy is already charging towards y/n at full speed, catching her completely off guard.

She rolls on the mud, almost falling into the lake and Percy is immediately running to her.

"Dude what are you doing? go take the flag!" His teammate yells at him, pinning y/n to the ground. Fuck the flag, Percy couldn't care less about it.

With almost too much strenght, he's pushing the boy out of her, sending him soaring through the air, an indignant yell before he lands with a splash right into the lake.

"Dude what the fuck? i'm on your team!" The Hephaestus boy yells as he clumsily stands on the lake, dripping wet and looking very displeased.

Without looking, Percy flicks his hand and a second later, a wave crashes into the boy's face. He doesn’t care about his protests, he's busy helping y/n up on her feet.

"Are you okay?" He asks, his hands cupping her face to make sure there's absolutely not one scratch on it.

She lets out a small cough, wipping mud from her face. "Yes? it's capture the flag, Perce. This is part of it."

He knows she's right, that doesn’t stop him from scoffing. "Yeah, well, what he did was unnecesary." They both look at the boy once again trying to stand up only to be met with another wave crashing against him.

This time, she realizes this is Percy's doing and gasps. "Percy!"

"What?" he shrugs innocently, wiping some dirt from her nose without any care for the other camper. "He looked like he needed some refreshing."

He ends up being dragged away by her, not that he puts any kind of restraint anyways.

Yes, maybe everyone at camp knows about him being just a little overprotective of her, but so what? he loves her— can't help it if he wants her to be happy and safe. The only one that doesn’t realize this is y/n herself, she's completely oblivious of his actions.

And she remains oblivious through it all; when she's thirsty after training and he's waiting for her with a water bottle, when she's hungry and he has her favorite snack ready, when campers are talking badly about her archery skills and with only one Percy-designated glare they immediately shut up before she can hear them, when he deliberately walks by the side closer to the magical borders just in case something dangerous happens.

It's always there, he's always there. And all it takes is overhearing a conversation for her to realize it.

She's outside of the Aphrodite cabin, waiting for Piper to go have dinner at the pavillion when she overhears some of the girls walking by.

"I mean, come on, Percy is literally the hottest guy at camp, don't you think?" one of them says, and she feels this bubbling jealousy in her chest— something she has never experienced before.

"Agree, but it's a little annoying that y/n is always around him." the other one adds. "I mean she's sweet but he probably finds her annoying how much she clings to him."

Her heart drops, is that what they think? is that what Percy thinks? that she's just this annoying girl clinging to Percy for everything?

Before she can overthink it, the first girl talks again. "I don't think he finds her annoying, he's like totally in love with her, obsessed even."

A third girl sighs dreamily. "Right? he's always so careful and protective with her, Dean from cabin five told me Percy was glaring at him for flirting with her, and the next day he casually woke up on the lake. Listen, he would totally let someone burn if she said she wanted to roast marshmallows."

A chorus of giggles follows, their voices dissipating as they walk away without even noticing y/n was there all along, trying to process their words.

Suddenly everything clicks in her mind. Every time that Percy seemed to just be there. Always at the right moment. Always with a solution to every single problem.

She's not dumb, she has known Percy was protective. But she always thought it was him just trying to be a good friend, surely he was the same with Grover or Annabeth? but now she was sure it was never the same.

Because neither of them has Percy following them around, treating them like they're the most precious thing in the word. That's only reserved for her, and it has taken her this long to understand it, realization crashing over her like one of those waves Percy used to almost waterboard the boy that almost hurt her during capture the flag.

Piper finally steps out of her cabin, apologizing with y/n for taking too long. But she's not even listening, she's already made up her mind.

Without even stopping to take some time to think it through, she turns around and ignores Piper's questions as she sprints towards his cabin.

She arrives just when he's stepping out of the front door, and she's running so fast that she can't stop herself in time before she crashes into him. Thankfully, Percy's senses are better than hers so he catches her by the waist before they both end up on the floor.

"Woah there." he says, and even through his confusion he still finds it in him to be concerned. "Did something happen, sunshine?"

He barely has any time to finish his question before she's grabbing his face and pulling him down to kiss him. He makes a startled noise, completely caught off guard because honestly that was the last thing he was expecting to happen. A couple of long seconds pass with him completely frozen but then— oh, then he's kissing her back, his hands finding her waist like they've always belonged there.

He can taste the strawberry chapstick he has always seen her put on, but the kiss also tastes like stolen glances and endless afternoons spent together, like a love that's always been there, just waiting to get noticed.

When she finally pulls back, too soon on Percy's opinion, he blinks at her. "Not that i'm complaining, but what was that for?"

Her heart is stammering against her chest as she offers him a small smile. "Some girl said you were in love with me?"

"Took you long enough to realize." he replies simply before pulling her close again, his lips finding hers as if this was something he had been born to do.

And she can feel it, in the kiss, in the way he holds her— Percy Jackson loves her. And the best part? She loves him too.

[ssahotchnerr]

possible idea for married hotch since you asked for requests😋 (and cause i love your writing)

maybe one where he gets injured and with the rest of the bau he’s just brushing it off but when wifey pulls up? different story.

he’s just all 🥺🥺 at her and the team is like wtaf?

also can i be 🌊 anon pretty please?

healing touches

i love that 🥺🥺🤕 cw; bau fem!reader, established relationship (hehe they're soooo in love), injury/blood descriptions, aaron being stubborn🙄, playful banter, fluff <333

The first SUV arrived back at the police department after apprehending the unsub. Morgan, JJ and Prentiss walked inside, pulling their vests off in sync.

You might have been mistaken, but their gazes immediately locked onto you as they removed their protective gear. Their stares were almost unsettling, as if they knew something you didn’t, and were waiting to see the rest unfold. Unease filled you from head to toe.

"Hey," you stacked a few files together, placing them down. "How'd it go? Did you get him?"

"Yeah, 'course we did." Morgan sauntered over, dropping his vest onto the table with a thud.

"Well," Emily added, a slight grimace on her face. "Not without putting up a relentless fight. It wasn't pretty, I'll tell you that."

A bad feeling formed in your gut. Even Spencer's attention was gained, his head lifting from his book.

"What do you me-"

Your words were interrupted by Aaron and JJ walking in. JJ, perfectly fine. Aaron on the other hand, was moving at a much slower speed than normal, definitely banged up with a fair amount of blood present on his face.

Your eyes widened in alarm, meeting him halfway.

"Oh my god, Aaron. Are you okay?" You immediately unstrapped his vest for him, tucking it under your arm. The lessening pressure seemed to help some, light tension lifting from his body.

Your hand raised to cup his jaw, moving it gently to observe the damage. There was definitely a developing bruise underneath his right eye, his forehead and cheek were both littered with scrapes of all shapes and sizes. Aaron winced when his head reached a particular angle, and it wasn't a subtle wince either. It was a startling jolt, agonizing pain obvious.

But it was at your touch, and your presence, that his eyes softened. The stagnant sharpness dissolving as he looked at you with a tenderness that was almost too raw to hide. You pulled back to get a better look at him as whole, ensuring he was fully intact.

"He's 'fine', in case you were wondering. Only told us 'bout a million times." Morgan added air quotes, sitting down and kicking his feet onto the table. "Refused medical attention, even."

"Manners." You swatted his foot, causing him to lower them before turning back to Aaron. You tutted at him softly, "You did? After that lil stunt you just pulled?"

"Well... I guess it is starting to hurt more now."

"I wonder why," JJ commented humorously under her breath, hiding her smile with her palm. Additionally, Emily and Derek gave him a look.

You quickly reached into your bag, riffling through it until you found your handy tube of Neosporin. "C'mon, let's get you cleaned up."

Aaron didn't argue, didn't utter a single word as he followed you to the bathroom like a lost puppy. Once inside the small space you maneuvered him back against the sink, washing your hands next.

"That was stupid of you." You wet a paper towel, dabbing his cuts and ridding of any dry blood, once again causing him to flinch at the touch. You pulled the towel away, pausing a moment, before resuming gently. "Even if you think you're not in need of getting checked out, please do, for my sake at least. I'd like my husband to stay in one piece if possible."

"I know, I'm sorry."

"What happened?"

"We were clearing the grounds and he managed to catch me by surprise," Aaron huffed out, evidently annoyed at himself. "I should have seen it coming. Seen him in the shadows, reacted faster."

"Baby, you may think you have the invincibility of Superman, but you don't. You're human, it's okay to miss things every once and a while." You reassured him softly, tossing the towel aside and moving onto the Neosporin. After dabbing some onto your index finger, you began blotting it thoroughly onto the cuts. "Which I'm fine with, by the way, you're much better looking."

"Yeah?" A laugh escaped Aaron, but his chuckle was interrupted by the twinge in his ribcage, the entirety of it shooting up in pain.

"I'm sorry," you gasped gently, guilt sweeping through you.

"It's fine, 'm fine." He breathed out through his teeth, his jaw clenching momentarily, until the pain subsided. "I'm okay sweetheart. Now c'mon, your face is far too pretty to look that worried."

Your eyebrows were furrowed, eyes frantically searching his face.

"Really. So I'm a little bruised up, I've been through far worse."

You sighed, not entirely convinced. "Fine. But when we get home tomorrow," your eyes narrowed slightly, pointing the Neosporin at him as a 'threat'. "You're resting. Come hell or high water."

"Deal."

"I'm happy you're okay." Suddenly emotional, tears dared to spill from your eyes. They stalled at your waterline, completely blurring your vision. You hated to see him in pain, and the reminder of past events didn't help. "Don't scare me like that."

"C'mere," Aaron raised his arms, gesturing for you to come close.

"I don't want to hurt you-"

"Come here."

You took a step forward, not raising your arms to potentially inflict pain, but rest your body against his. Your face found home in the crook of his neck, while his arms did wrap around you. Not as tight as usual, but enough to hold you and not hurt.

"I'm fine," he kissed the side of your head. "And I have my girl to thank for that. Although, you did miss a spot."

"I did? Where?" You pulled back, beginning to unscrew the tube's cap but Aaron's hand stopped you.

"Right here." He pointed to his lips, playing up the 'anguish' in his eyes. "Hurts real bad."

Your lips tugged into a smile, leaning in and offering him a short, sweet kiss.

"That's all I get?"

You playfully rolled your eyes before giving his lips another quick kiss. He chased your lips, but you pulled back, keeping just out of reach.

"Want a longer one? Get medical attention next time."

[cherryxbooo]

Yeah, I’m the lucky one

Summary: Hiding it when you're sick from your boyfriend is one thing, but hiding it from your clingy boyfriend is a whole other challenge.

Reader x Lando Norris

Genre: fluff

The paddock is alive with energy, buzzing with anticipation, the sound of engines roaring in the distance, and the hum of the crowd outside.

Lando is in his element, calm yet radiating an excitement that’s palpable.

The focus in his eyes is like nothing I’ve ever seen, and it’s clear that today matters more to him than most.

The weight of the race, the pressure of the expectations, and the fire in his heart are all simmering beneath the surface.

It's a mix of raw determination and adrenaline, and it brings out the best in him.

But me? Well, I feel the complete opposite.

I woke up feeling off, my head pounding and my body aching with a fever I couldn't shake.

I knew I should stay in bed, but I couldn’t. Not today.

Not with everything he’s worked for. I couldn’t let something as trivial as being sick get in the way of him having the best race of his career.

He’s been talking about this day for weeks, getting ready for it with an intensity that I’ve only seen in the world of motorsport.

But as I made my way through the paddock, trying my best to act normal, I felt the weight of my own discomfort pulling me down.

I’ve been silently counting the minutes until I can just crawl into a quiet corner and hide.

But the last thing I want is for him to see me like this. He’d immediately worry, go into panic mode, and lose focus.

Lando, with his big heart, would put everything aside just to take care of me, and I don’t want to do that to him.

Not today. Today is about him.

As I stand next to his family, making small talk with his friends, I feel dizzy.

The lights are a little too bright, and the sounds a little too loud.

I try to steady myself, offering a weak smile whenever someone glances my way, but the effort feels exhausting.

Lando’s mum catches my eye, and for a brief moment, I see a flicker of concern in her expression.

But she doesn’t say anything, just gives me a warm, reassuring smile. I’m grateful, but I can tell she knows something’s off.

Then, out of nowhere, I feel a familiar hand on my back. A small shiver runs down my spine as I turn to face Lando, and I instantly feel a warmth spread through me, despite the fever still creeping in.

“Hey baby, you okay?” His voice is soft, but there’s a sharpness in his eyes, like he’s always aware of everything around him, especially me.

I don’t want to worry him. I can’t.

So I give him a smile that’s more practiced than I’d like to admit,

“Yeah, just a little tired. Big day, huh?”

Lando raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it.

He studies me for a second, his gaze lingering a little longer than usual, his hand gently squeezing my back.

The touch is warm, comforting. “You sure? You don’t look so great.”

“I’m fine,” I assure him, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his cheek.

“You focus on the race. I’m just here to cheer you on.”

Lando hesitates, his lips pressed into a thin line as if trying to gauge if I’m really okay.

But then he nods slowly, though his concern doesn’t quite vanish.

“Alright… but if you need anything, you let me know, okay?”

His voice is almost a whisper, like he’s trying not to give away just how much he cares.

“I will,” I promise, trying to keep my tone light and convincing.

But as he walks away to prepare for the race, a sense of loneliness settles over me.

The noise around me feels overwhelming, and the crowd only amplifies the ache in my head.

I find a quiet corner, away from the chaos, hoping to just breathe for a moment.

I didn't realize that I had been hiding away for a while already.

But before I know it, Lando’s voice cuts through the distance.

“You’ve been hiding from me.”

I turn to see him standing there, leaning against the wall, arms crossed with a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

His presence alone seems to calm the storm inside me.

“I wasn’t hiding,” I protest weakly, though my voice cracks just slightly.

“Just… taking a break.”

Lando raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it.

“Taking a break from what? From me?”

He takes a step closer, his hand reaching out to gently touch my cheek, his fingers warm against my skin.

I close my eyes for a second, leaning into the touch, even though I feel like I might collapse at any moment.

“From the chaos of the paddock,” I admitted softly, my voice barely above a whisper.

His gaze softens, the teasing in his eyes fading. He steps in closer, his body brushing against mine as he gently cups my face with both hands, forcing me to meet his eyes.

“Hey…” His voice is tender now, a deep, comforting lull.

“Are you really feeling okay love?"

I swallow hard, the lump in my throat suddenly unbearable.

“Yes, don't worry Lan. I'm fine.”

I whisper, my voice slightly breaking as I fight the urge to lean on him completely.

I stare up at him, feeling a mix of love and pain.

I don’t want to be the one who holds him back, but I can’t deny how much I crave the support and warmth he gives me without even thinking.

Lando lowers his hands, but not without giving me one last comforting touch, his fingers brushing my wrist.

“You need to rest,” he says firmly, but there’s a hint of playfulness behind his words now.

“I’m not going to let you make it through today without me taking care of you at least once.”

I laugh softly, despite the dizziness still swirling in my head.

“I’m fine, Lando. You go be amazing out there.”

He looks at me, his eyes soft but filled with determination. “I will be. But only because you’re here.”

Before I can say anything else, he leans in, planting a gentle kiss on my forehead.

“I’ll be right back, okay? I’ll make sure to get at least P3 for you.”

And with that, he’s gone, disappearing into the crowd of engineers and teammates.

But the moment he’s out of sight, I feel my energy drain completely.

Regardless of how I felt I still made my way to the rest so I could support Lando and be there for him.

Everywhere I look, there’s movement, excitement, and a sense of urgency.

Lando’s already suited up and surrounded by his team, getting ready to focus on the race that could mean everything for his career.

I’m supposed to be the one cheering him on, being his support, his calm, but instead, all I can do is try to survive the overwhelming wave of heat coursing through me.

Every few seconds, my head spins, my chest feels like it's on fire, and the nausea rolls in like a tide.

It’s getting harder to keep it together, but I’m trying. I can’t let anything distract him.

I can't make this his problem today, not when he’s been working so hard for this moment.

I take a seat next to Max and Pietra, hoping the three of us can keep the mood light and give Lando a little peace before he heads into the race.

I force myself to laugh at Max's joke about the weather, but it comes out more like a wheeze.

My throat feels like it’s coated in something dry and scratchy, and each breath feels like I’m not getting enough air.

Max doesn’t notice, but Pietra does.

She’s always been that way, observant, kind, and so very perceptive.

I’ve always admired how in tune she is with people.

She shifts in her seat beside me, her eyes narrowing as she studies my face.

“You okay, Y/n?” she asks gently, her voice laced with concern.

“You look a little pale.”

I immediately try to put on a smile, but it feels like the most exhausting thing I’ve done all day.

“I’m fine, really,” I say, hoping I can convince her.

“Just a little tired. I didn’t sleep well last night.”

Pietra doesn’t buy it, not even for a second.

She leans in closer, her gaze steady as she inspects my face, my trembling hands.

“You sure?” she presses, her brow furrowing.

“You don’t look fine. Maybe you should lay down for a bit?”

The room suddenly feels like it’s closing in on me.

The dizziness that had been simmering beneath the surface is starting to take hold, and it’s all I can do to keep my eyes focused on her.

I swallow hard, trying to push the wave of nausea down, but it’s impossible to ignore now.

I nod weakly, doing my best to stay composed.

“I’m okay, Pietra. Just... a little dizzy. I think I’ll sit down for a moment.”

Max, still glued to his phone, glances up briefly, probably sensing the shift in the air.

His eyes scan me quickly before he leans closer to Pietra, muttering something under his breath, probably about how pale I look.

I’m about to wave it off, to reassure them both that it’s nothing, when Pietra’s soft hand touches my shoulder.

It’s warm and grounding, her touch gentle but insistent.

“No, you’re not okay, Y/n,” she says firmly.

“You’re not fooling me. You need to go back to the hotel and rest. Max and I will handle everything here. Don’t worry about Lando. He’ll understand. He doesn’t need to know right now, and you’re not helping him by pretending you’re fine.”

My heart clenches at her words. I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to make him worry.

He’s about to race, about to compete for something so important to him.

The last thing I want is to make this about me. But Pietra’s expression leaves no room for argument.

Her hand squeezes my shoulder, and I feel a wave of guilt hit me hard.

“I... I can’t just leave,” I whisper, my voice shaky.

“I don’t want him to—”

“Y/n,” Pietra interrupts, her voice soft but full of authority.

“Lando will be fine. He’ll be more upset if you stay here, pretending to be okay when you’re not. Let us take care of everything. He doesn’t need the distraction. He needs you to get better, not to keep pretending.”

I shake my head, still fighting it. “But he’s going to think I don’t care.”

“He knows you care. You don’t have to prove it by running yourself into the ground,” she says, her tone firm yet reassuring.

“You need to listen to your body. Max and I can make sure everything’s fine here.”

I hesitate for a moment, my vision swimming in and out of focus, and then I feel it, the dizziness getting worse.

My stomach turns violently, and I barely suppress a gasp. Before I can protest, Pietra’s up and at my side, helping me stand.

“Max,” she calls out to him, her voice tinged with urgency.

Max looks up from his phone, his attention now fully on us. He doesn’t need to ask questions.

Without a word, he stands, motions to security, and gestures for them to clear a path.

“We’re getting you back to the hotel,” Max says, his voice gentle but decisive.

“No arguments.”

I open my mouth to protest, to tell them I’m fine, but the dizziness overtakes me again.

I feel my legs wobble, my knees threatening to give way beneath me. The nausea is so strong now that I can’t hold it back any longer.

My head feels like it’s filled with cotton, and my heart races as I fight to keep everything together.

“Okay,” I whisper, too weak to resist any longer. “Okay, let’s go.”

Max’s arm wraps around my shoulder, steadying me as Pietra follows closely behind.

I glance over my shoulder at the paddock, seeing the hustle and bustle of the team preparing for the race.

And even though I want nothing more than to stay and support Lando, I know Pietra’s right, he doesn’t need to see me like this.

As we make our way out of the paddock, past the busy crew and excited fans, the world seems to blur again.

All I can think about is Lando, how much he’s worked for this, and how much I wish I could be there cheering him on.

But right now, all I can do is focus on getting back to the hotel and trying to heal.

“Everything’s going to be fine,” Pietra murmurs, sensing my anxiety.

“Lando will understand. We’ll make sure he stays focused.”

“Thank you,” I whisper back, squeezing her hand.

Max looks over at me, offering a reassuring smile.

“No problem, Y/n. We’ve got you.”

And as they guide me toward the exit, the sound of the engines roaring to life in the distance feels far away, almost like a distant memory.

All I can focus on is putting one foot in front of the other and hoping that, by the time Lando crosses the finish line, I’ll be okay.

Meanwhile,

The race was intense, there was no other way to describe it.

Lando’s heart was pounding, his breath coming in quick bursts as he fought to stay focused on the track ahead.

Each corner, each straightaway felt like it mattered more than the last.

The roar of the engine under him, the vibration in his hands as he gripped the wheel,it was like the world was screaming at him to push harder, to get everything he had into every lap.

And he did.

Adrenaline was coursing through his veins, the world outside of his car becoming a blur of colors and sounds.

But amidst the chaos, there was something else tugging at his mind, something he couldn’t quite shake.

Just before the race started, he had caught sight of Y/n sitting among their friends, looking beautiful as always, but something was... off.

Maybe it was the way she had looked at him, her tired eyes betraying a sense of exhaustion that didn’t quite match the energy of the day.

Or how quiet she seemed, like a flicker of something hidden behind her usual smile. He couldn’t pinpoint it, but something wasn’t right.

But there was no time for that.

He pushed those thoughts away, focusing back on the race, his hands steady on the wheel as he navigated the track with everything he had.

He couldn’t afford to think about anything but the next corner, the next lap, the next move.

And when he crossed the finish line, the elation of victory should’ve been enough to make everything feel perfect.

After all, he had gotten P2.

The cheers, the confetti, the roar of the crowd, it was everything he’d been working for, everything he’d dreamed of.

But in the midst of it all, he couldn’t shake the nagging thought of Y/n.

His gaze searched the area, instinctively looking for her.

He was surrounded by teammates, sponsors, friends, but all he wanted in that moment was to see her smile, to know she was okay.

He scanned the area again, but she wasn’t there.

Not where he had left her. His stomach tightened, his mind racing. Something wasn’t right.

Lando quickly moved through the crowd, dodging everyone on his way, his eyes darting between faces, searching for any sign of her.

He was so focused on finding her, he almost didn’t see Max and Pietra standing off to the side.

When he finally noticed them, his heart skipped a beat. You weren't there.

Lando’s pace quickened as he approached them, his voice betraying the worry he couldn’t hide.

“Where’s Y/n?” he asked, his words coming out sharper than he intended.

Pietra exchanged a glance with Max before she sighed, the look on her face telling Lando everything he needed to know.

"She wasn’t feeling well," she said softly, her eyes clouded with concern.

"We had to send her back to the hotel."

Lando’s chest tightened, a heavy weight settling over him.

His pulse quickened, the sudden rush of guilt and worry clouding his thoughts.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” The words slipped out before he could stop them, his voice rising slightly, not in anger, but in genuine confusion.

Max stepped forward, his expression calm but serious.

"Mate she didn’t want to distract you. She said it was important not to take your focus away from the race."

Lando’s mind was spinning now, the elation of his victory evaporating as quickly as it had come.

Guilt was flooding him, he couldn’t believe Y/n had been struggling, that she’d hidden it from him.

She’d always been there for him, supportive, understanding, even when he was caught up in his own world.

And now, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d let her down.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, but the weight of the situation was suffocating.

He didn’t know what to say.

All he could think about was how she had been sitting there, probably feeling miserable, and he hadn’t even noticed.

The race, his career, all of it felt so insignificant compared to the thought of Y/n being alone and sick.

“Why didn’t she just tell me? I would’ve understood. I could’ve—”

Pietra stepped forward, her hand gently resting on his arm, grounding him in the moment.

“Lando, she didn’t want you to worry. She knew how much today meant to you. She didn’t want to take that away from you.”

Max nodded in agreement.

“She’s always there for you. But she’s not the type to let herself be a distraction, not when you’re in the zone like that. You know how she is, she cares about you more than anything, but she didn’t want to pull you away from your focus.”

Lando let out a long breath, feeling like the weight of the world was pressing down on his chest.

“I should’ve noticed,” he muttered, his gaze dropping to the ground.

"I should’ve been paying more attention."

"You’re not a mind reader, Lando," Pietra said, her voice calm but firm.

Lando realized that she was right.

He quickly greeted the rest of his family and did some other duties before changing and heading back to the hotel.

Lando arrived at the hotel room, his body still buzzing from the race, but his mind consumed by a different kind of worry.

As soon as he entered, the first thing he did was quietly close the door behind him.

The soft hum of the air conditioning and the dim light from the lamps were the only sounds in the room.

His eyes immediately fell on your figure, still asleep, your peaceful face glowing softly under the sheets.

The sight of you, so vulnerable yet so beautiful, made his heart ache with both affection and guilt.

He quietly pulled a chair from the small desk and sat down beside the bed, never taking his eyes off you.

He wanted to be close to his girl, but he didn’t want to wake you.

He knew you needed rest, but the worry of the day, the worry about you, hadn’t let up.

He reached out, brushing a lock of hair from your face.

His fingers lingered there for a second before he let out a soft breath, resting his chin in his hand, his elbow on his knee.

He could almost hear the questions running through his mind, wondering why you hadn’t told him what you had been feeling.

He could feel the weight of your absence, the quiet ache in his chest from not knowing exactly what had been going on with you.

The minutes seemed to stretch on, each tick of the clock amplifying his thoughts.

He hated this uncertainty, this feeling that something had been left unsaid.

Then, after what felt like forever, a soft groan escaped from your lips, and Lando’s attention snapped to her immediately.

Your eyes fluttered open, blinking against the dim light in the room.

Your gaze slowly focused on him, confusion settling on her face as she took in her surroundings.

Lando watched her with a mix of relief and concern, his heart lightening at the sight of you waking up but still heavy with the questions that lingered in his mind.

"Hey, sleepyhead," Lando said softly, his voice full of warmth and affection.

My vision cleared, and I smiled sleepily at him.

Lando’s heart squeezed.

"You’re awake. I’ve been here waiting for you to wake up for, like, ages now." He chuckled softly, though his eyes were still filled with concern.

"But seriously… why didn’t you tell me?"

I sighed, feeling the weight of everything pressing on me.

My hand reached for his, finding his fingers weakly, and I squeezed them, my fingers trembling a bit.

"I didn’t want to be a burden," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

"I didn’t want to ruin your day or take away from the race. It was important to you. I just… I didn’t want to distract you."

Lando smiled at me softly, his thumb gently stroking the back of my hand.

"You’re never a burden, Y/n." He looked at me with such sincerity, it made my heart ache in the best way.

"You are always my priority, okay? Not the race, not the fans, not the win. You. Always."

I felt my heart flutter at his words, my eyes softening as I looked back at him.

The tears I’d been holding back threatened to spill, and I could feel them welling up.

Being sick just makes people extra emotional, give it a break yeah?

"I’m sorry," I murmured, my voice breaking slightly.

Lando shook his head, his heart aching.

He leaned closer, cupping my cheek gently, his thumb brushing over my skin.

"You don’t have to apologize," he whispered.

"You never have to hide anything from me, especially not when it comes to you."

I felt the weight of his words, the tenderness in his touch, and I wanted so badly to just melt into him.

I was so grateful for him, for the way he always made me feel safe, loved, and heard.

Lando sat beside me on the bed, leaning back just enough to grab the water and medicine he’d set out earlier.

"You need to drink this," he said softly, his voice gentle but firm.

"Get some rest, and I’ll be right here with you. Just take it easy."

I hesitated for a moment, but then reached for the glass of water he held out to me.

My fingers were still shaking slightly, but I took it from him gratefully.

There was a small, tired smile on my lips as I drank, and Lando’s eyes never left me.

He was watching me closely, making sure I was okay. It felt nice to be looked after this way.

After I finished the water, Lando sat back down next to me again, his hand finding mine once more.

"You don’t ever have to hide something like that from me, okay?" he said, his voice soft but serious.

"If something’s wrong, you have to tell me. Promise me you’ll tell me next time."

I looked up at him, my eyes full of emotion, and I nodded slowly.

The tears I’d been holding back finally spilled over, and I felt a few of them slide down my cheeks.

Before I could say anything, Lando quickly wiped them away with his thumb, his touch light, tender.

"I’m sorry," I whispered again, my voice barely audible.

He slightly laughed, "You're such a crybaby when you're sick babe."

Lando leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to my forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment.

"You don’t have to apologize," he said, his voice full of love and affection.

"I love you, baby. I love you, and that’s all that matters." His voice was quiet but strong, filled with reassurance.

I pulled him closer, resting my head against his chest, letting out a small, exaggerated sigh.

"Mmm, this is the best pillow ever," I mumbled, half-laughing, half-groaning in exhaustion.

Lando wrapped his arms around me, pulling me in tighter.

His chin rested on top of my head, and he chuckled softly.

"You come first," he said with a mock-serious tone, trying to sound all deep and dramatic.

"Always."

I snuggled in a little closer, feeling his warmth.

"Oh, I know now," I said, glancing up at him with a grin.

"You’re basically my personal butler, aren’t you? Always there when I need you."

He let out a dramatic gasp. "But of course! My whole existence is to serve you, my queen."

I rolled my eyes, fighting back a laugh.

"Thank you for being here," I said, the words half-sweet, half-teasing.

Lando smirked, pressing a kiss to my hair.

"Please don't cry again... and well yeah, where else would I be? I’m not going anywhere."

Then, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, he added,

"Besides, you’ve got me wrapped around your finger. You know that, right?"

I couldn’t help but laugh lightly, feeling him grin against the top of my head.

"Oh, I know," I said, playfully tapping his chest.

"You're my big soft marshmallow. I practically own you."

Lando chuckled, his arms tightening around me. "You absolutely do. And you’re not even sorry about it."

I smirked, rolling my eyes. "Well, I am your number one priority, aren’t I?"

His eyes sparkled with affection, and he pulled me a little closer.

"You’re my number one everything, Y/n. No competition."

I snorted, unable to help the grin that spread across my face.

"Good. Glad we’re clear on that."

As we sat there, wrapped up in each other, the world outside felt miles away.

All that mattered was us, his heartbeat, my tired sighs, and the way we fit together like we’d always been meant to.

For a moment, everything else faded, and all I could think was: Yeah, I’m the lucky one.

The end

[redwing4life]

Home Cooked Meal

CHAPTER 4 | ASHES TO EMBERS

can be read as a stand alone :)

PAIRING: Firefighter!Neighbour!Bucky x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: Smut (finally) - dirty talk, pet names, oral f and m receiving, fingering, tit play, praise kink, hand kink?, ball play, hair pulling, unprotected PinV sex, aftercare, reader and bucky have dinner, swearing, fluff, let me know if i missed anything!

SUMMARY: You surprise Bucky with a home cooked meal after his shift, and it’s the best damn thing he’s had in years. The pasta was pretty good too.

WORD COUNT: 10550 (ngl i rechecked this three times cuz i didn’t think i wrote this much but turns out i did in fact write over 10k words im sorry lmao)

PREVIOUS CHAPTER // NEXT CHAPTER

Call me when you get home x

Your text still sits on Bucky’s lock screen, read but not opened, as he gets changed out of his work clothes.

It’s fair to say that the message intrigued him when he first read it half an hour ago, just before he left the firehouse. His legs sped up your building stairwell faster than normal, desperate to find out why you’re awaiting his call.

Knowing you would have said so if you were in immediate danger, Bucky sifts through the multitude of possibilities that await him on the other side of the ring tone; none of which ease the butterflies in his stomach.

He walks to his kitchen, phone in hand, to get a glass of orange juice. Pulling up your contact page, he presses ‘call’ and grabs the carton of juice from the fridge door.

You answer after just one ring, eager to hear his voice.

“Hey, Barnes!” God, Bucky loves your voice.

“Doll.” His voice is soft, tone rising at the end with curiosity. “You asked me to call, what’s up?”

The firefighter swoons at the adorable giggle you let out, the sound distant from the mic as though you’ve tried to hide it. “I was worried you didn’t see my text.” You admit.

Bucky pictures you biting your lip anxiously, an accurate prediction for your current state.

“What are you doing right now?”

Glancing down at the yet-to-be-filled glass in front of him, Bucky leans a hand against the kitchen island. “Just about to get a drink, what are-“

“Don’t!” You cut in. “Don’t get a drink, I need you to come over.”

“What, now? What’s wrong?”

“Nothings wrong, James. Just come knock, okay? I’ll see you in a minute!”

And with that, the call cuts off with a dull beep; Bucky brings the phone down from his ear and stares at it in confusion. You’re being weird, never having hung up on him like that before.

Alpine meows from above the fridge, drawing her owner’s attention away from the phone, only to tilt her head at him.

Even Alps is confused.

Deciding to just do what you told, Bucky slips his phone into the pocket of his dark jeans, returns the orange juice to the fridge and sets off for the front door. He finds himself checking over his appearance in the entry way mirror, eyes scanning over his outfit before he smooths out his hair.

Although he won’t admit it, Bucky’s spent a lot more time in front of that mirror lately; checking his collar isn’t twisted, his hair isn’t too messy and there’s nothing stuck in his teeth. The need to look good, to look good for you, hasn’t gone unnoticed by his colleagues.

He considers using the spare key you gave him and letting himself into your apartment but shakes the thought away.

She asked you to knock, Bucky. Not break in.

With one final nod in the mirror, Bucky leaves his apartment, stepping into the hallway he’s spent so many mornings and nights in with you.

Old jazz music greets his ears when he approaches your door, the soft melody sneaking through the cracks of the door frame. Bucky smiles to himself at the thought of you dancing in your kitchen, heart warming when he notices your humming.

Knocking thrice, the firefighter steps back and nervously stuffs his hands into his pockets. You always make him nervous, those darn butterflies stirring in his stomach whenever he’s about to see you. And when he does see you. Actually, they’re there even when he imagines seeing you.

He takes a breath when he hears you shuffling up to the door, but nothing could prepare him for the sight when it swings open.

Rusty red fabric flows from your neckline to the middle of your thighs, small flowers dotted over the slightly orange colour. Two thin straps perched on your shoulders leave plenty of skin on show as your usual sun-pendant necklace sits between the v-neck of your dress. Which, by the way, perfectly presents the soft swell of your breasts.

It takes everything Bucky has to not drool at his breathtaking neighbour, but it takes even more to not dive on you and finally taste those pink lips.

Your skin is ablaze beneath his eyes and you revel in his reaction, the exact response you wanted when you pulled on the dress two hours ago.

“We’re matching.” You grin, taking a moment to enjoy Bucky’s red henley.

“It’s almost like we planned it.” A chuckle escapes him, eyes trailing up from your thighs to meet yours.

“Speaking of plans,” You reach out to pull Bucky closer, tugging his forearms until he pulls his hands out of his pockets, “I have a surprise for you.”

Is it letting me look at you in that dress all evening? Your neighbour thinks - hopes - as you lead him into your apartment.

Closing the door behind him, you take his hand in yours once more to guide him to your little kitchen/diner area. If you weren’t looking ahead, you’d see Bucky’s cheeks flushed pink at your touch. Seeing your hand encompassed with his own will never fail to drive him crazy.

When he eventually looks up from your joined hands, he’s stunned to a halt. You turn back to him when you feel him plant his feet and your features twist into a nervous expression.

“I- Doll, what is all this?” The firefighters eyes are wide at your ‘surprise’.

Your small dining table is set up for two; cream place mats lay beneath charcoal gray pasta dishes with wine glasses sitting at their corners. There’s even a little vase with pink and yellow tulips in between the two spaces.

“Well, remember that time when you told me you haven’t had a proper home cooked meal in years?” You watch Bucky closely as you speak, waiting for some sign of approval.

“You mean this morning?” He turns to you in wonder, thinking back to your conversation as he gave you a lift to the cafe. “I don’t know what to say, doll.”

You roll back on your heels, hands scrunching your dress at your sides. “Is it okay? I know it’s a little cheesy and it’s last minute but I thought it would be a nice surprise for you after working all day. I mean, it’s not exactly at your home but it’s pretty cl-“

Bucky takes two long strides towards you and brings his hands to cup your cheeks; your words die on your tongue when he looks down at you with tender eyes.

“It’s perfect, Y/n.” He smiles, stroking his thumb over your cheek bone. “You could feed me Alpine’s food and i’d still bow at your feet, sweets.”

Now you’re the one blushing. You heart skips when Bucky’s eyes drop to your lips with hunger in his gaze.

“Always so good to me, aren’t ya?” His words tempt a whimper from deep within you, a submissive whine held back by the last of your restraint.

“Well-“

The oven beeps, its sharp tone darting between your bodies and making you step back from Bucky’s hold.

“Uhh” Your mind is all over the place as the firefighter watches you with amusement, “I- I should, I mean- the pasta must be-“

“Go, doll.” Bucky shakes his head laughing quietly.

Your dress sways as you spin away to the stove, stirring various pots and tidying up the counters. Your neighbour watches you in awe, unashamedly enjoying the view; you just look so goddamn sexy in that cute little dress while you cook for him. He wishes he could come home to this every night.

“You need a hand with anything, doll?” Bucky’s voice sounds from behind you.

“Actually, yeah!” You glance over your shoulder. “Come here.”

If you keep bossing him about, Bucky’s gonna struggle not to tear that sweet little sundress right off you.

Settling in at your side, Bucky cocks his head. “What d’ya need?”

You scoop some of the creamy tomato sauce onto a spoon and bring it to Bucky’s lips. “Try this for me.”

With bated breath, you watch his full lips wrap around the end of the spoon, his eyes bearing into yours as he drags the sauce into his mouth.

Bucky has no business looking as dirty as he does in this moment; you watch his adam’s apple bob as he swallows before his tongue juts out to catch a few missed drops. And just when you thought your panties would survive the sight, a moan ripples from his throat and you clench around nothing at the sound.

“Good?” You murmur, hoping he doesn’t notice when you cross your legs.

He notices.

“Delicious,” Bucky takes the spoon from your hand and stretches across you to place it back in the pan, his right hand brushing against the small of your back, “you did great, sweets.”

Fuck. Me.

You regather your composure and ask Bucky to get the wine from the fridge. He pours you both a glass, setting them back on the dining table gently before returning the bottle to its home.

“Hey, could you bring the bowls over, please?” You call over your shoulder.

You plate up the sauce coated pasta while Bucky places the dirty pans in the sink, both working around each other like a fine tuned machine.

Before you can do it yourself, Bucky is picking up the bowls and laying them on the place mats, winking at you as he does so. He pulls your chair out for you, nodding for you to join him.

“For you, Madame.” He jokes, allowing you to sit down while tucking you in.

You watch him round the table and take his own seat. “And they say chivalry is dead.”

Bucky grins at you. The orange glow of sunset shines through your windows, catching your features with grace. Your eyes shine beneath the light and Bucky can’t help but find you angelic.

“You’re beautiful, doll. I don’t know if I said that earlier but, god, you look stunning tonight.”

Dropping your head, you play with the hem of your dress shyly. Your hair falls into your face, forcing you to push it behind your ears, though Bucky wishes he was close enough to do it himself.

With rose tinted cheeks, you look up at Bucky through your lashes. “You say that to all your neighbours, Barnes?” You raise a brow with your teasing voice.

Bucky throws his head back and laughs heartily, a sound you’ve come to adore.

“Only the ones who cook for me.” He winks.

“Doesn’t Ms Scott bring you pies every couple weeks?”

“And I tell her she looks ravishing every time.”

You giggle and tell Bucky to dig in, though you could happily sit and talk all night. While you both stop every now and then for a forkful of food, conversation bounces between you as it always does.

Tonight isn’t much different to a typical evening with the firefighter next door; usually you share some snacks and beers, cozying up on the couch as you watch tv. It’s become ritual for you to send Bucky a video of you playing the piano each evening, his phone playing the video on loop as he sleeps. It’s strange, but the music creeps into his dreams and keeps them peaceful, keeps him away from that burning building.

It’s been a few weeks since the night he was sent home early. Both you and Bucky felt a shift that night; waking up in his arms left you craving more, though you’ve yet to tell him as much. You left him sleeping peacefully that morning when you left for work with only a couple hours of sleep under your belt.

Bucky hated waking up to find the other side of his bed empty, no longer feeling your heat. The note you left him eased the disappointment slightly, your neat handwriting promising to come back in your breaks. Neither of you have addressed how right it felt to sleep beside each other that night, despite spending all of your free time together with unspoken words hanging over you.

Instead, you dance around each other like two ghosts doomed to never touch. The bond between you is stronger than any you’ve ever had, the magnetic lure undeniable for you both.

Your glasses have been emptied and refilled twice now - dinner long since been finished - and you’re starting to feel the buzz; those butterflies in your stomach have turned into a swarm of confidence, your brain taking a backseat from its usual overthinking.

“You expect me to believe that you broke down the door before Sam could? The same guy who beat you at your physical a few weeks back?” You tease the brunette, a challenging brow raised at his rather unimpressed face.

“What are you trying to say there, doll?”

Bucky’s jaw clenches when you tilt your head slightly, eyes shining with amusement beneath the exposed hanging light bulbs.

“Nothing to worry your cute little head about.” You watch Bucky relax into his chair slightly as you reach for your glass with a smirk. “Just that I doubt Sam has any difficulty kicking a door down, not with the way he’s built.”

The scoff to end all scoffs ripples from your neighbours throat; his bright blue orbs glare into you and his features twist into a scowl. Oh if looks could kill…

Bucky’s tone is flat, “Didn’t know you were such an admirer of Wilson’s build, Y/n.”

The lack of a pet name sends your confidence wavering, but not enough to keep you from having a little fun.

“Well, you know,” You bring the glass to your lips, “he’s hardly difficult to miss.”

Watching the deep ruby liquid pass over your lips, Bucky fights to hide the fury that’s flooding his veins, forced to look away from your smug grin.

He knows, he knows, that you’re lying through your teeth, trying to get a rise out of his usually impenetrable facade, and yet he can’t help but feel jealous.

Bucky’s painfully aware that he has no right to feel so possessive, not when he lays no claim to you. But the twist of his stomach is proof that he doesn’t much care.

“Maybe I should just give you his number and you can cook him a meal next time.” Bucky grumbles.

“Oh, that’s alright, I already have his number.”

You’ve never seen Bucky’s head snap up as quickly as it just did, his gaze pinning you to your spot.

“You what?”

Gently, you place your glass back on the table. “Yeah, Steve gave him my number last week so he could get in touch.”

The fire in those blue eyes burns brighter with each word, his body so still that his chest is barely moving when he breathes. In fact, you’re not even sure if he is breathing. Hell, he’s not even sure if he’s breathing.

“Is that right?” Bucky’s gruff voice is laced with possessiveness, the low tone travelling straight to your panties till you swear you feel yourself throb. You wonder briefly if you have a jealousy kink and the sweet arousal dripping from your cunt only confirms your suspicions.

“Mhm.” You hum in response, “In fact, i’m going out for coffee with him next week.”

“Huh.”

Bucky’s chair screeches against the hardwood floor as he pushes himself back. You follow his movements with amused eyes when he stands up and grabs your plates before storming to the kitchen. You twist in your chair, watching him place the dishes in the sink and flick on the tap.

“James, what are you doing?” You ask.

“What does it look like i’m doing?” Oh he’s grumpy, grumpy.

Bucky’s shoulders are tense beneath his tight henley, his sleeves now rolled up as he starts scrubbing at the plates. It’s quiet while he concentrates on his work, only accompanied by the music still flowing from your speaker.

From the corner of his eye, the firefighter sees you rise from your chair, ears honed in on the sound of your feet pattering towards him.

It’s now hard for Bucky to focus on anything but your breath on his neck, goosebumps littered across his skin like a rash. You stand right behind him, tracing your fingers up from the small of his back; Bucky’s muscles tense momentarily before melting at your touch, just like always.

“Ask me why i’m seeing Sam next week.” You order, hands still roaming the taut fabric on Bucky’s back. The command makes him pause and clench his eyes shut. Why are you making him talk about this when it’s tearing him apart?

The brunette turns in your hold but you don’t release him, instead settling your hands on his waist.

“Why are you seeing him, doll?” Bucky sounds despondent, brows furrowed in confusion as he looks down at you.

“He asked me to teach his nephews to play the piano, Buck. I’m meeting him and the boys on Wednesday, Sarah too.”

A shocked ‘What’ tumbles from his lips as the information sinks in, his frown slowly falling away as he processes your words.

“Yeah…” You grin, though it’s more like a smirk, content with yourself proving he was jealous.

In a desperate attempt to save his ego, Bucky rolls his eyes playfully. “I knew you weren’t really attracted to that dumbass.”

You scoff and pat his chest lightly. “Sure you did, Barnes. Now scoot, you wash ‘em, i’ll dry ‘em.”

With his hands on his hips, he stays still as you nudge your way to his side, stretching to the window sill where your dish towels lay. Bucky’s never been in this position before, it’s always him who’s teasing you; this is new territory for him and it irks him that you riled him up so easily.

Once he shakes his head clear, the firefighter returns to face the sink and starts washing the dishes again. You wait patiently while he works, humming along to whichever song is playing.

“You like the old stuff, huh doll?” Bucky grins warmly at the slight sway of your hips, your radiance beaming like a lantern.

You giggle sheepishly and bite your lip, unknowingly sending Bucky spiralling. “I thought it was fitting for tonight, really leaning into the whole ‘housewife’ role.”

He raises a brow, “Does that make me your doting husband then, sweets?”

Realising what you said, your cheeks heat up instantly and your eyes widen. You attempt to backtrack but your words stumble over one another as though you’re a little school girl.

Bucky, however, is basking in the familiarity of control; your rosy cheeks never fail to bring a smile to his face, and boy is he beaming right now.

“I meant- It’s- You know what I meant, James.” You shoot daggers at him, though the idea of being married to your neighbour sends your heart into overdrive.

That swoon-worthy laugh greets your ears with haste, Bucky’s eyes crinkled at the corners as his chest reverberates with its force. It’s impossible to bite back the grin that’s fighting its way onto your lips.

Small tendrils of chestnut hair tumble from behind his ears, begging to be pushed back, but the buzz from the wine has dulled and you can’t find the confidence to do it, no matter how much Bucky’s eyes are pleading you to.

“You know, it’s sweet of you to teach the boys how to play.” He looks at you in adoration, the image of you spending time with Sam’s nephews triggering a warmth to spread in his chest.

A breathy laugh escapes you as your gaze falls to the kitchen counter. You blush at the compliment and slowly start drying the dishes again.

“Do you spend much time with them?” You ask with a brief glance his way.

Bucky shrugs, “Yeah, Sarah is always throwing barbecues for the squad. They’re good kids, and I bet they’ll love you!”

“Oh God, I hope so. I’ve never taught before and i’m scared they’ll hate me and i’ll destroy their dreams and-” You ramble away without noticing the frown tugging at your neighbours brows.

“Teach me.”

Huh?

“What?” You freeze.

“You said you’ve never taught before,” Bucky steps closer to you, his cologne swarming around you like a warm hug, “so practise on me. Teach me something.”

You almost laugh at his words, mind immediately jumping to the conclusion that he’s joking. But Bucky doesn’t move, his blue eyes study your own, body so still that you fail to conjure a laugh. He’s not joking.

Hesitation is written across your features, drawing a single shake of Bucky’s head. “Come on, sweets. Please? For me?” He pleads.

“Okay.”

It’s scary how quickly you succumb to Bucky’s wishes; you fear you’d do awful things if only he asked and you’d even do it with a smile. You’re so doomed.

With a triumphant grin, Bucky plucks the dish cloth and plate from your grasp and carefully places them on the sink’s edge, before taking your hand in his and guiding you to your piano.

Nerves prickling beneath your skin, you trail behind him and silently revel in his touch. It’s hard to not stare at his perfect body as you stumble around furniture, the sharp muscles of his shoulders rippling as he tugs you with him. Flicking off the speaker on the way, you fall onto the small piano stool beside Bucky, and with such little room, your left thigh is pressed up against his. The solid curve of his muscles prod into your flesh and yet despite the fluttering it causes in your stomach, you’re far more focused on his hands.

From the bulge of his toned biceps to the trail of prominent veins in his forearms, your eyes drag down Bucky’s arms till you pause at the sight of his large hands. They lay spread across the span of his thighs, his right pinky finger mere atoms away from your exposed skin where your dress has ridden up. You find yourself craving the sparks that alight with his touch, so you adjust your position to make sure your leg brushes against his hand.

It certainly hasn’t gone amiss to the firefighter that you’ve taken a liking to his hands. Sure, he’s caught you staring at them before, but the hunger in your gaze right now is greater than ever.

The corner of Bucky’s lip turns up into a smirk as he reaches for your hands once more, lifting them to rest on the ivory keys of your piano.

“Wanna hear you play me something before you give me a lesson.” He admits, his words more of a demand than a question.

When you fail to respond, still caught up in scanning the crevices of his calloused hands, Bucky nudges your shoulder.

You shake your head with a dazed frown, “Huh?”

A playful chuckle falls from his pink lips, “I said play me something, sweets, before you start teachin’ me.”

You giggle sheepishly, sighing an ‘Oh’ before you gather your thoughts. Bucky returns his hands to his lap - a movement you struggle to ignore - giving you free rein of the instrument.

Running through some songs you could teach him, you settle for one of your favourites, or more accurately, one of Bucky’s favourites. The cool surface of the keys is harsh beneath your fingertips, a stark contrast to the Bucky-induced-heat flushing through your veins, hands stretching into place as you prepare the opening chords.

Rhythmic tones swarm around the two of you as you begin playing, masterfully dancing across the keys like it’s a second language. Your graceful motions always bring Bucky to a halt as you entrap him in your art.

He recognises the song straight away, lips turning up at the sweet melody. You didn’t even have to ask to know what he wanted to hear, you just knew. Bucky’s head feels light at the sight before him. A knowing grin has settled on your soft lips, your body ever so lightly swaying to the music, clearly getting lost the sounds.

It’s impossible not to feel the adoring stare of your neighbour, no matter how hard you try to ignore it. Warmth is pooling in the depths of your heart where it feels like you’re bleeding out, your love for Bucky forcing out the blood till the only thing circulating through your veins is him. No longer able to cope with the feelings swarming within you, your fingers abruptly stop mid song before you turn to look up at the firefighter.

“Okay, your go.” You state, but when Bucky raises a bemused brow your way, you continue to instruct him. “Come on. You’re gonna do the left hand, I’ll do the right.”

“Yes Ma’am!” Bucky chimes with a mock salute, earning him a glare.

It takes a few tries to move his fingers into the correct positions, both because he’s apparently wholeheartedly incapable of doing what you say but also because you may or may not zone out every time the veins of his hands stick out as he moves. But it’s still entirely his fault though. Entirely. ‘Maybe like 98% his fault. That’s seems fair.’ You think.

“There you go!” You cheer when the firefighter successfully plays the right notes in tandem.

“Would you look at that, not so useless after all.” Bucky winks at you and you blush lightly.

Glancing at him hopefully, you ask him to play the first chord you taught him.

“Oh, umm-“ He stutters, fingers flailing about and pressing random keys in search of the right pattern.

“Here, let me…” You chuckle sweetly at how utterly lost he looks and move to help him.

Leaning forward, you drag Bucky’s fingers over the ridges of ivorite, slowly placing them on the correct keys. You feel his lust-filled eyes trained on your face while you work, though it’s getting harder and harder to focus under his stare.

A frown tugs at your brows when your mind goes blank as to where Bucky needs to put his left hand, his still-wandering gaze burning into you and spreading to your cunt faster than you care to admit.

Of course, Bucky notices your breath quickening, chest stumbling up and down with shaky pants. His proximity is intoxicating and the will to fight it is slowly slipping past you, fingers itching to trace up Bucky’s thick arms to his neck so you can finally pull his lips to yours.

Bucky reads every inch of your skin like he’s studying for an exam. From the clench of your jaw to your eyes fluttering shut, he knows that he’s winning this tussle for control.

“Bucky…” You breathe, the wavering sigh rolling from your tongue like a stray secret.

“Yes, doll?” Bucky smirks with glinting eyes and you bite back a whimper.

Opening your eyes, you keep them trained on where yours rest on his. “I can’t focus with you looking at me like that.”

Bucky knows exactly what you mean but he can’t help but toy with you. “Like what?” He cocks his head with faux innocence that fools no one.

You turn to look up at the firefighter, eyes meeting his half lidded ones, the blue of his eyes barely visible behind his lust-blown pupils but the blue you can see is so impossible dark that you wonder if they were ever light in the first place.

Taking a breath, you wet your lips so briefly that Bucky nearly misses it. Nearly. “Like you want to kiss me.” You say, barely above a whisper.

“Oh,” Bucky sighs, leaning in closer, “I want to do much more than that.”

Your body is alight with need. Craving his touch, a breach of the barrier between you, you practically whine your reply. “Then why are you just staring?”

“Well, I wanna remember you like this; sweet, angelic, so perfect in your little sundress.“

With the back of his hand, Bucky nudges the hem of your dress higher till his whole hand is spread against your thigh. You quash the aching desire to glance at where your bodies meet and lock your eyes on Bucky’s, whose lips are turned into a knowing smirk.

“Gotta savour it while I can.” He says as he pushes his palm further to your inner thigh, his pinky finger mere inches from your heat.

“Why?” You ask, heart racing.

It dawns on you that you may actually pass out when the firefighter leans in close to you, nose pushing your hair aside to expose the soft skin of your neck which now sits defenceless to his advances. The heat of his breath is electrifying, lips nearing your pulse point eagerly.

Bucky’s lips ghost over your skin as he explains, “Cause once I’ve had my way with you, you’re gonna be a hot fucking mess, sweets.”

A breathy moan tumbles from the depths of you chest at the crude insinuations of his words; your eyes flutter shut, an unintentional reaction that you’re grateful for as it hides the way your pupils roll to the back of your head.

Through the dark span of your eyelids, you picture exactly how Bucky will make you a hot fucking mess. Spread legs with his tongue delving through your folds, back arched as he pounds into your pussy with vigour, his hands guiding your hips back to meet his as he fucks you from behind. The images bear too much for you yet you can’t stop picturing the salacious scenes, not when your neighbour is pressing open-mouthed kisses to the side of your neck.

“James…” You sigh, voice carrying the weight of a thousand pleas.

“Yeah? Is that what you want?”

Nodding your head desperately, you whine, unable to form any words beneath his sinful tongue.

“Words, doll.” Bucky says, lips hovering over your ear. He’s struggling to hold back but can’t let himself touch you the way he wants to until he hears you spell it out for him.

Turning your head slowly, you peer at Bucky with half-lidded eyes and a slack-jaw. “I want you, James. Please.”

That’s all it takes to disintegrate the final remnants of the firefighter’s self-control before his full lips meet your own with a hunger that’s been brewing for months.

Bucky’s lips glide across yours, slotting between your own so easily it’s got you believing this is not your first kiss. It’s soft and sweet but so goddamn sensual that you can’t help but moan into his mouth, the now open gap giving him the perfect chance to slide his tongue inside.

You bring your hands up Bucky’s body and rest them on his neck, fingers tentatively feeding through the hair at the nape of his neck while you jostle for control of the kiss.

Forced to pull back for breath, you take a peek only to find those strikingly blue eyes already on yours.

“Fuck, doll,” Bucky whispers, “you don’t know how long I’ve been waitin’ for this.”

“Probably not as long as I have.” You scoff.

“Then let me make up for lost time.”

“Wait, what do y-“

Within moments, Bucky is lifting your legs over the bench and is knelt between them, his large hands teasing the hem of your dress as he keeps your thighs spread apart.

Your mouth is agape with surprise while you grab onto the piano behind you for stability, a mixture of nerves and anticipation coursing through your veins. And as if he can read your anxious thoughts, Bucky looks up at you with the most sincere expression across his soft features.

“Do you want me to stop?” He asks, despite the deep desire shining in his eyes. He wants you more than anything, but he needs to know you want him too.

It’s an easy answer and you’re shaking your head faster than you care to admit, but the memory of Bucky’s prior words flash through your mind and you still just as quick.

“No.”

Watching intently as he runs a hand from your ankle up to your knee, the firefighter rolls his bottom lip between his teeth when your breath hitches.

“Then promise me you’ll tell me if that changes?” Bucky asks.

You reach down and run your fingers through his chestnut locks, tucking the few loose strands behind his ear.

“I promise.”

“You’re gonna be the death of me, sweets.”

A hearty laugh reverberates through you, but you’re quickly silenced by Bucky’s lips on your inner thigh, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling. He kisses his way up to your heat, slowly pushing your dress higher and higher till the only thing between you and his mouth is the crimson lace panties covering your mound.

A sound you can only describe as a growl ripples through the room and you glance down at your neighbour to find him practically drooling at the sight of you. But then his eyes are on yours, his hungry, half-lidded eyes, and he’s tracing a finger over your clothed slit. Your breathing becomes laboured at his touch, your body, your mind, all of you at his mercy.

“Bucky, please…”

“Ah ah ah-“ The firefighter tuts, “-since when do you call me Bucky?”

You frown, back arching slightly in search of some friction on your core, too aroused to process his words properly.

“Look at me, Y/n.���

The stern nature of his tone lures your eyes to his once more. “What?” You ask, confused.

“I haven’t spent months goin’ crazy listening to you use my name only to have you call me Bucky when I’m finally between your legs.”

The throb of your pussy spurs you on and you tilt your head teasingly. “Touch me, James.” You say, and he obeys.

Bucky glides his hands up to your hips and drags your panties lower and lower, his lips chasing the lace till there’s no where left to kiss but your slick folds.

He hovers over your heat with bated breath before forcing himself to close his eyes and ask if you’re still okay with this.

“More than okay, James.” You answer truthfully.

“Good, cause I’m fucking starvin’.”

You feel his mouth on your pussy before you’ve even processed his words, tongue delving between your folds like he really is starving and you didn’t just feed him the best dinner he’s had in years. Though something tells him that title is about to be beaten the second you cum all over his face.

Your mouth curves into an ‘o’, the most pornographic of moans escaping you at the sinful sounds of Bucky’s mouth on your cunt. Drowning in increasingly intense waves of pleasure, your senses are dialled up to the max; with every flick of his tongue and suck on your clit, you find yourself falling deeper in your arousal. It becomes impossible to listen to anything Bucky’s telling you.

“Y’taste so sweet, doll.”

“Doing so good for me, aren’t ya? My good girl.”

“Let me hear you, doll, need to hear how good you feel.”

Whether it’s praises or orders, there’s no chance in hell of you understanding a word that falls from his lips, though Bucky doesn’t mind. The clench of your soft thighs around his head tells him all he needs to know - that even if your heads not fulling comprehending him, your body is. And the sheer amount of slick glistening across your cunt is enough for him to know that you’re ready for more.

The sensation of Bucky’s finger tracing along your pussy lips sends your eyes rolling to the back of your head and your hips lifting off the stool.

“James- oh fuck-“

Words die on your tongue when Bucky eases a finger inside you. White hot pleasure builds at your core, burning the last remnants of your self control, its embers coaxing a near-scream out of you.

“Fuck, that’s it, sweets. That’s- shit you’re so tight, pussy’s squeezing me and it’s just one finger.”

You mewl and squirm beneath him.

“How you gonna handle two of ‘em, doll?”

Bucky’s mesmerised at the sight of his finger gliding in and out of you, drenched in your sweet juices, too beautiful of a sight for him to give up by eating you out. But when you groan at the suggestion of two fingers, he drags his gaze upwards and is greeted with a view that’s evening better.

You, draped against the piano, head tilted back and brows drawn together while uneven sighs tumble from your swollen lips. God, you look heavenly, Bucky thinks. He doesn’t realise he’s said it out loud, but it makes little difference seeing as you’re rather preoccupied with the thought of Bucky fucking another finger inside you.

“James?” You call, reaching down to cover your left hand around the one at your sex, the other tugging on his hair.

“Yeah? Are you alright? Do you want me to stop?” He panics, thinking you’ve grabbed his hand to stop him.

Instead, you look him in the eye and say “Are you gunna fuck another finger inside of me or what?”

An awe-inspired grin spreads across Bucky’s face at your question. He keeps his blue orbs on yours while he presses a kiss to your clit and pushes himself higher till he’s inches from your face.

He rests a hand against the piano, caging you in and says, “Anything for my girl.” before a second digit joins his first.

The stretch knocks the wind out of your chest but Bucky hardly gives you any time to adjust, his fingers pumping in and out of you even faster than before. His palm slaps against your bundle of nerves with every thrust, the force riding to your chest where your tits bounce in rhythm.

“So damn beautiful…” The firefighter says.

You look up at him through your lashes and pull his lips to yours, tasting yourself on his tongue. With clashing teeth, the wet slapping sounds only feeds into the moment and Bucky’s suddenly very aware of the tightness in his jeans.

With each passing second, the cord in your stomach is getting so close to snapping that your mouth isn’t even moving against Bucky’s anymore.

“Fuck, James, I’m- I-“

“Shh, I know.” He presses a kiss to your forehead. “You gonna cum all over my fingers, doll? Gonna let me see you fall apart?”

You nod feverishly.

“Good girl, now let go for me.”

That’s all it takes for the damn to break loose and the fiercest orgasm of your life to rack through your body. It reaches every part of you, all the cracks and crevices you never thought could be touched, yet here you are, feeling every inch of yourself set on fire.

“That’s it, doll, that’s it.” Bucky comforts you while you lay victim to the aftershocks of his work, slowing the thrust of his fingers till your breathing evens and he moves to gently circling your sensitive clit.

“Holy shit…” You sigh, a satisfied and totally fucked-out grin playing across your lips.

Noticing how your hazy your eyes still are, Bucky smiles to himself while pressing loving kisses on your forehead.

“You did real good for me, sweetheart.” He listens to you hum beneath him as he moves to kiss your temple. “Y’look so pretty when you cum, you know that? Even prettier than I imagined.”

You twist in your seat to face your neighbour. “You’ve imagined this too?”

“Every night, doll.”

“Huh…”

Though Bucky’s eyes remain fixed on yours, it’s obvious that his mind has slipped away; he’s now clouded by memories of his x-rated dreams, ones that have ended with him pumping his embarrassingly hard length into his fist one too many times, and his cock twitches in his ever-tightening pants. You notice the movement at his crotch and, emboldened by his confession and the best orgasm you’ve ever had, you decide to take back some control.

“What have you pictured doing to me, James?” Your tone is so sweet, so innocent, that it takes a moment for your words to register in his brain. But when it does, boy, does a fresh wave of blood rush to his cock.

“You sure you wanna know? Cuz it ain’t all sweet and innocent.” He warns.

You say nothing and let your actions do all the talking; you slide a hand down to meet his left, the one still nestled between your sticky thighs, and tug it away from your cunt. With your eyes locked on his, you raise Bucky’s cum coated fingers to your mouth, slowly wrapping your lips around them and sucking your sweetness away. Making sure to give the firefighter a show, you swirl your tongue around his fingers before taking them as deep as you can, a knowing look in your eyes when you notice Bucky clenching his jaw.

After releasing his fingers from your swollen red lips, you press a kiss to the palm of his hand. “Tell me.”

What you can only describe as a growl rises from the back of Bucky’s throat and before you know it, you’re being carried to your bedroom, legs bound tightly around his waist while your arms wrap loosely around his neck.

He sits down on the edge of the bed; hands resting on your hips and edging lower to your ass, his fingers grip the supple flesh to keep you in place.

His force on your hips is pushing you down on his ample bulge, sparking a flash of pleasure straight up your spine that escapes you with a moan. Bucky chuckles softly with a sinful grin as you tilt your head back at the feeling.

“You wanna know what I’ve imagined us doing, doll?” The firefighter grabs your chin to bring your attention back to him. He runs the pad of his thumb over your bottom lip, tugging on it and letting it bounce back into place.

“I’ve pictured us just like this.” He drops his hand to your neck, tracing the curve of your collar bone till it meets the strap of your sundress. “You, naked and beautiful as ever, riding my cock like I know you can.”

You gasp lightly when he tugs your strap till it’s tumbling off your shoulder.

“And you’re telling me just how full you are, how stretched your little pussy is around me, choking my cock like a damn vice.”

Bucky’s filthy words send your hips into motion without warning; you grind your bare cunt over his crotch, the tent in his pants settling between your slick folds till his shaft is enveloped with your warmth.

“Does that sound good, doll? To have my cock buried inside you when you bounce on it? Fuck, I bet your cunt is dripping for me again,”

“It never stopped, James.” You whimper, your sensitive clit sending jolts up your frame as Bucky guides your hips over his.

“That’s right, you’re never gonna use anything else to cum ever again. You got me now, doll. I’m all you need. Me, my cock, I’m gonna ruin everyone else for you.”

You don’t even notice that Bucky’s hands are on the zip at your back, slowly pulling it down till the fabric are your chest goes slack, and with the straps already draped over your shoulders, the flowing material cascades around you, tumbling to your hips and leaving you defenseless to Bucky’s insatiable blue eyes.

“Fuck me, sweets, you’re- god- you’re perfect.” He leans in and kisses your collarbone. “So,” kiss, “So,” kiss, “perfect.”

Your eyes flutter shut, lost in the feeling of his touch, and Bucky smirks when he sees you. He teases a hand up your soft skin till it sits just beneath your tit, daring to reach up and play with you in the ways he’s always dreamt of.

“Is this okay?” He asks, earning an even more passionate grind of your hips as you push your chest closer to his open mouth.

He chuckles, “Needy, aren’t ya, sweets?”

You whine.

“Hmm, lucky for you, this is exactly what I imagined doing to you, what I’ve dreamt of for months…”

His lips wrap around your hardened nipple with haste, the warmth of his mouth a welcome sensation. He sucks at the sensitive nub, this tongue reaching out to soothe you afterwards. You throw your head back and moan loudly.

The sound of bucky loudly licking and sucking on your tits is driving you crazy, to the point where your hips are stuttering over his, practically drowning in the feeling till you have no control over your movements.

“God, I love your tits. Wanna act out every dream I’ve ever had of you. Fucking your tits, your throat, your cunt, anywhere you’ll let me, doll, please. I’ve needed you for so long.”

You blush at the word love, surpressing the hope that is stirring at the possibility that your tits aren’t the only thing he loves. Has he really wanted this as long as me? You wonder, picturing everything he just revealed he’s been wanting.

“M’So fuckin’ hard for you sweetheart, I know you can feel me. Dick’s throbbing, doll, it’s s’hard it hurts.”

You pull at his hair so he’s looking up at you again and capture his lips in yours.

“I wanna see you, Bucky…”

He groans and reaches for the hem of his shirt which he waists no time in tearing off. Your chest rises and falls heavier than before, eyes raking his physique just like you had that night he was leaving the shower at his place.

You trail a finger down his abs till it brushes the button of his jeans teasingly.

“All of you, James.” You look pointedly at his crotch. “May I?” You ask and when he nods, you climb off his lap and sink between his legs on the floor, you dress tumbling to the ground immediately.

Bucky’s abs tense as you work to undo the button, your hands tiny in comparison to his body. Next, you work the zipper up and over the bulge of his cock, the teeth desperate to come apart after being so constricted for so long. The two sides of denim snap away from the tent of his boxers, perfectly presenting where the firefighter so badly needs your touch.

He helps you kick off his jeans till the only thing between you is his boxers. You trace a finger up and down his shaft through the cotton, enjoying the sticky patch of pre cum leaking through the top.

“Have you ever imagined me sucking your cock, James?” You ask with half lidded eyes before kissing his covered shaft. “Cause I have.”

Bucky whimpers - whimpers - at your words, his hips snapping up to your face uncontrollably.

You begin to drag down his boxers, trailing kisses down down down, your lips greeting his tip when his cock flicks up against them before your eyes even get chance to glance at him.

Your eyes flutter shut at the salty taste on your lips, revelling in the breathy moans from your neighbour.

“Fuck- pl-please honey, I need your- argh- mouth around me!”

You make eye contact with him from your place on the floor and ask if he’s sure.

“More than anything.”

And with that, you take his thick length into your mouth, lips sealing around his angry pink cock head briefly when your trace your tongue over his slit, before gliding lower down his cock.

You take as much of him as you can, but you need time to warm up having never taken a cock as large as his before.

“You’re so big, baby.” You say as you pull off his shaft with a pop, “Biggest I’ve ever had in my mouth.”

A frustrated groan arises from the firefighter and you feel his hand on the back of your head, gently pushing you to his dick once more.

“Suck my cock, doll, just like we’ve both imagined, nice and deep, please.”

You take the base of his cock in your hands and guide his tip back to your lips.

“Atta girl,” Bucky encourages as you take him deeper and deeper.

He feels you relaxing your throat to take more of him and his balls clench at the feeling.

“Argh fuck, fuck, fuck. Good girl, oh my god, yes!”

His praises and curses cheer you on and you manage as much of him as you can, only an inch or so remaining that’s simply too thick to fit in your mouth. Lord knows how he’ll fit in your pussy, but you’re sure he’ll figure it out.

You bob your head on his length over and over till you’re in desperate need of air. You let your hands work your spit and his precum up and down his hard cock while you catch your breath and watch his beautiful face contort into one of extreme pleasure.

Your chest fills with pride at Bucky’s facial expressions; making him feel good is somehow more rewarding than anything you’ve done in your life and you find yourself content at the thought of spending the rest of your days pleasing him.

Bucky is oblivious to the gratified smile toying your lips and wholly unprepared for your next movement.

“Oh god- oh fuck, doll-” He groans, his breathing staggered and eyes clenched shut when you take his balls in your mouth, the skin sloppily wet from your work on his cock, and now enjoying the warmth of your mouth.

“Oh honey, do that again, felt so go- argh!” He’s interrupted by you tending to his sack once more, your tongue swirling around them and lightly sucking.

You moan around his pretty, swollen balls, the vibrations drawing a sigh of pleasure from your neighbour. The trimmed hair at the base of Bucky’s member is tickling your nose while you fight to taste every part of him.

With a final sharp suck, you release his balls with a small plop, plant a wet kiss on each and flatten you tongue to lick a bold stripe up his length. The tip of your muscle presses into the vein on the underside of his dick and Bucky thrusts upward, his hips bucking as he desperately searches for more.

As you ready yourself to glide his cock down your throat once more, you feel Bucky’s hand on your cheek, pulling you off him.

“What’s wrong? Did I do something?” You ask with a concerned frown, nervous that you’ve done something wrong to have Bucky stopping you. You wrap your hand around his forearm, the one outstretched to hold your hair, while the other remains enclosed around his cock.

“Nothin’ bad, sweets, it’s just that- fuck-“

You absentmindedly stroke your thumb over his girth, a motion you intend to be comforting but in reality, it just makes him throb even harder in your hands.

“-I’m not gonna last much longer if you keep using your pretty mouth like that.”

“And that’s a problem because…?”

He laughs lightly and tucks your hair behind your ear. “Cause as hot as you’d look swallowing my load, I’d much rather cum inside that sweet pussy for our first time.”

You roll your bottom lip between your teeth before pecking a doting kiss to his forearm and letting Bucky pull you to your feet. His eyes follow yours till he’s looking up at you from his seated position, his hands falling to your hips with an awestruck face.

“What the hell did I do to deserve you?” His voice is barely above a whisper. You blush crimson.

“Get on the bed, doll.” He orders. “Lay on your back.”

You do as he says and once you’ve settled, he crawls on top of you. It’s quiet for a moment as Bucky stares lovingly down at you, burning the image into his memory to remind him he has everything he needs.

“I should have found the guts to do this months ago…” You murmur, pushing the fallen tendrils of chestnut hair behind his ear. He looks so goddamn perfect; the golden glow filtering through your window catching every feature you’ve spent so long dreaming about, and now he’s here, really here, and you can’t help but stroke his cheek with revere.

“We have now, doll. That’s enough for me.” Bucky whispers. “Are you comfortable?”

You nod, truthfully, both in terms of your position but also for what’s coming. But then his elbows bend out and he’s lowering himself onto you.

“How about now?”

There’s a gleam in his eye and a playful smirk on his lips as he watches your chest heave, your body taking more of his weight now.

“No!” You giggle.

“No? Is this better?” Bucky teases, briefly laying his whole weight over you until you paw at his shoulders to push him off.

“James! You’re squishing me!”

The melody of your carefree laughter has Bucky melting and he pushes himself up onto his hands once more. His lip is tucked between his teeth, enjoying the view as he becomes increasingly aware of his cock now just one slip away from your pussy lips.

Quickly coming to your own awareness of Bucky’s rock hard length pressing into you, you sober up.

“Darling?” You tug on his bottom lip with the pad of your thumb.

Bucky’s brows pinch closer slightly.

“I need you inside me.”

His soft lips are crashing against yours within moments, his hand fighting between the nonexistent space between your bare bodies to grasp his cock and guide his tip to your bundle of nerves.

The sudden taste of how good Bucky can make you feel forces a sharp breath from you. It’s so much yet not enough, all at the same time.

“Tell me if you need me to stop, okay? Let me take care of you how you deserve.”

After a meek nod with your hands finding refuge in Bucky’s soft locks, he trails his cock head down your pink folds till it catches on the dip of your entrance.

Bucky tempts a whimper from you as he slides inside of you, your walls stretching to accommodate his larger than average member.

“Fuck, doll, you’re so tight for me.” The firefighter moans, resisting the urge to snap his hips and bottom out completely.

You’ve yet to make a sound, the sting in your pussy not yet dissipating, and when you glance down at where your bodies meet, you realise you’re barely taking half of him.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Bucky’s reassuring voice is ghosting over your ear, “you’re taking me so well, sweets. You need me to go slower?”

You clench your eyes shut briefly, “No, keep going, you’re just so…”

“So what?”

Bucky watches a deep red creep up your neck before returning his gaze to your eyes, that now dance across the room avoiding him.

A gentle grasp on your chin draws you to face the breathtaking man above you and you clench around his dick.

“What happened to the little minx who was practically beggin’ me to fuck her, huh? Don’t get all shy on me now, dollface. I’m so what?”

His words have you spilling yours without second thought. “You’re so fucking thick, James, cock’s splittin’ me in half.”

He groans and snaps his hips fully into yours, making you scream out, “Jamie!!!”

His scalp burns when you pull on his hair harder than before, your moans filling the room like a broken record. Bucky should be focused on the furrow of your brow, your laboured breaths, the way your cunt is choking him, anything about how perfect this feels, but all he can focus on is how with one thrust, you called him ‘Jamie’. And you didn’t just say it, you screamed it.

“Shit, honey, say it again.”

“Ja-Jamie…” You whine and feel Bucky draw his hips back before pounding into you once more.

“Again.” Your neighbour growls.

“Oh my god, fuck- I”

“Again.”

It takes everything you have to open your eyes and look at him. “Fuck me, Jamie.”

“That’s my girl.”

Bucky drives his length into you till his tip is hitting your cervix, the pleasure wrapping around your throat and squeezing the air out of you. You fight to breathe as Bucky drills into you, over and over, softly grunting with every thrust.

“Never felt anything as good as your cunt before, doll. Wanna spend the rest of my life buried inside you.”

You pull his lips to yours and, back arching from the mattress, dive your tongue into his mouth with vigour. He lets you explore his mouth while fucking you deep and fast, the headboard of your bed slamming against the wall and probably driving your neighbour crazy. Oh wait, he is your neighbour, and it is driving him crazy, but in the best way imaginable.

“So goddamn tight, sweets, y’pussy was made for me,” He swallows your whimpers happily, “don’t you think? You feel how good i’m filling you up, honey? Sliding in an’ out so easy, you’re so fucking wet for my dick.”

“Harder, Jamie.”

Goddamn.

“Keep calling me that and I’ll do whatever you want.”

You lose yourself in his thrusts; the sting has long turned into the most pleasure you’ve ever felt, and that’s saying something after the orgasm he lulled from you only a few minutes ago.

“Fuckin’ me s-so good, Jamie.”

“Ah- just like that, baby.”

“I’m getting close, James, need you to go faster.”

Your pleas send Bucky’s cock pulsing and he does exactly as you wish. He fucks you faster, fighting off the desperate urge to cum inside your sweet cunt.

“Jamie…” You sigh.

He grins up at you from his place at your tits, his tongue reaching out to tease your nipples. You push his head down till he takes your sensitive bud in his mouth, sucking and swirling his tongue over it while he gropes its twin.

The tight coil in your stomach is twisting to its limit and you find yourself dangerously close to cumming around Bucky’s hard, thick length.

“I’m so- oh fuck- i’m so close, James.”

He lifts his head and eyes you with lust blown pupils.

“Are you gonna cum for me, doll? God, I can feel you clenching around me, you wanna cream all over my cock? Huh?” He smirks at your pornographic moans. “Bet I’ll look so good covered in your cum, sweets, maybe I’ll let you clean me up, put that mouth to good use.”

“I’m gonna cum, i’m gonna cum,” You chant several times breathlessly.

“Let go for me, sweet girl, make a mess o’my cock. Cum, doll.”

Your body shudders as your hips grind up into Bucky’s, your walls tightening before he feels you gush around him. Practically screaming in pleasure, you bite down on Bucky’s shoulder to quiet yourself, though the pain travels straight to his member, still fucking into you with force.

“Fuck, James, you’re so perfect, never came so hard in my life- shit-“

He’s groaning into your ear, his balls slamming against you and filling the room with salacious wet slaps.

“You’re so wet and- fuck- I can’t- I can’t hold back much longer.”

You tug on the hair at the nape of his neck and lick up the side of his throat, tongue catching the salty beads of sweat in its path. Reaching his earlobe, you suck on it lightly and whisper into his ear.

“Want you to cum inside me, Jamie. Fill me up, please, I need your cum.”

“Argh, fuck!!” Your words send Bucky over the edge and his hips stutter while he finally lets go.

“Oh god, yes!” Bucky grunts. “Take my cum, doll, fuckin’ take it.”

Your tongue seeks his neck once more, pressing open mouthed kisses as his cock shoots streams of white seed into you, the spurts seemingly never ending.

“Fillin’ my cunt so much, Jamie- fuck- you feel so good!”

As his cock softens, his thrusts slow to a more bearable pace, both of you so sensitive from your orgasms. Catching your breath takes a minute or two, but in the meantime, you coax satisfied sighs from your firefighter by running your hands up and down his back; the light sheen of sweat greets your fingertips as you touch him tenderly.

With no words being shared, you focus solely on Bucky’s breathing, the rise and fall of his back beneath your hands and the weight of his body on yours. It should be uncomfortable, but you’ve never felt so at home in a place, let alone with a person, in your life.

“That was…” Bucky murmurs into your neck.

You finish his sentence, “Pretty damn good.” Laughter ripples through the muscles of his back.

“Yeah,” He agrees and pulls back slightly to look at you, “you feeling okay?”

“If by okay you mean ‘completely and utterly fucked out’ then yeah, I’m great.”

You grin cheekily before pushing his hair behind his ear yet again, an act you find yourself praying that you’ll get to do for the rest of your life.

“How are you feeling?” You ask sincerely.

Those blue orbs flick between your own, laced with an emotion you hope to be love. “Like I want to be with you like this forever.” Bucky admits. “That and completely and utterly fucked out.”

You laugh heartily, bringing a beaming smile to Bucky’s swollen red lips.

“Let me clean you up, doll.” He offers before pushing himself off you, much to your dismay. He disappears to your bathroom for a minute before returning with a damp cloth in hand.

“Can you spread your legs for me, sweets?”

He bites a chuckle at how quickly you obey him and gets to work, wiping away your shared cum from your pussy and goosebump-ridden thighs. The towel is warm and soft on your skin, lulling you to sleep, though you fight to keep your eyes on your neighbour.

“You’re so beautiful, James.” You say, reaching to place your hand on his that sits beside you hip, where he’s leaning his weight.

He smiles sheepishly and focuses on the job at hand. Once you’re clean, Bucky carries you to the bathroom so you can do your business, waiting patiently outside after putting his boxers back on and grabbing his henley for you to wear.

When you step out of the bathroom, Bucky’s holding his he let out in front of you. “You looked a bit cold so I thought you might want a shirt?”

You smile, “Your shirt?”

“Yeah…” He rubs the back of his neck, muscles flexing at the movement, “You don’t have to, I just thou-“

He stops talking when you pull the henley from his grasp and tug it over your head. It swallows you whole and the sleeves tumble past your hands, but Bucky thinks it’s perfect. You’re perfect.

Grabbing his hand, you pull him back to your room and back into bed, tugging the sheets over you both where you nestle into his chest.

“You’re staying, right?” You ask with the most puppy-dog eyes you can muster.

“Of course, doll.”

Smiling to yourself, you curl up against the firefighter. “Woulda cooked you a meal months ago if I knew that’s all it took for you to finally fuck me.”

a/n: filth. pure filth. so sorry that it took me a lifetime to post this - life got lifey and it took me ages to get this right. it’s my second time writing any sort of smut so i hope it was good for y’all. thanks for all the support, it means the world to me. love you guys, red ❤️

comment if you’d like to be added to the ashes to embers taglist 🧡

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[ldrfanatic]

and now i'm covered in you

theodore nott x fem!hufflepuff!reader

"You know, you can stay if you want to." + "I think I'm in trouble." + "Damned if I do, damned if I don't."

synopsis - theo finds himself crushing on hogwarts' resident ball of sunshine hufflepuff but tries to force himself to stay away.

don't question the mechanics, go with it. do we want more down bad theo?

warnings - cursing, over-used amortentia love confession trope, theo is treacherously in love

slytherin boys works

"hnnnnggghhh."

mattheo looked up from doodling in the margins of the potions assignment he'd begrudgingly been blackmailed into working on by theo. said boy had his chin perked up onto his hand and was staring across the library at y/n, hogwarts' resident happy huffle.

in all honesty, theo didn't really give two shits if mattheo did his homework or not. he just needed someone to come with him to spy on you during your weekly wednesday study session. and while mattheo seemed like the last person who'd ever be in a library (all too true assumption), he was the only slytherin that theo had any blackmail material on.

so the pair of them sat at a table in the far corner, secluded in darkness that made it relatively difficult to pick them out from the leatherbound books of the ancient history section. theo had a clear view of you, but you'd have to strain your eyes to see him, which is what made this the perfect hiding spot.

theo let out another sigh, this one so dramatic that mattheo had begun to worry that his friend's testicles had simply fallen off.

"what the hell, man?"

"look at her."

mattheo's eyebrows immediately drew together in a look that was nothing short of incredulous.

"are you obsessing over that little puff in the corner?"

theo's hand shot up to grab the other boys' hand which was gestured lazily in the direction towards your figure. you were huddled up in a tutoring session with a pair of firsties in catty-corner to them. while theo was most certain you couldn't see him, he still didn't want to chance this buffoon giving him away.

the smile you gave them was so bright that theo found himself wishing that you were even slightly aware of his existence so that maybe, you might smile at him that way. his thoughts began to wander as he thought of all of the ways that he wanted you to smile at him. a large portion of them were decidedly not friend-like.

lost in his thoughts, theo hadn't caught your approach until you stood in front of them in your bright white sneakers. though they were a little beat up from your regular trips to the gardens, theo found them undeniably adorable. maybe because they had cute little yellow flowers embroidered on the sides of the heels. or maybe he just loved them because he loved you.

"hi matty!"

the moment the endearment was out of your mouth, theo's lovesick stare turned into a glare. he had no idea that you were even acquainted with mattheo, let alone that you had a nickname for him.

"hey there, y/n." mattheo, the cocky bastard, had a shit eating grin on his face that told theo that he knew exactly why your sudden arrival had irked him. "have you met theodore yet?"

your face twisted a little and a redness crept up your neck, settling on your cheeks. you muttered a quick no, clearly embarrassed about something.

"hi theodore. i'm y/n." you extended your hand towards him and theo was certain he'd explode if he didn't get the chance to touch your skin. so, with more eagerness than was probably necessary, theo took your small hand in his own.

now would've been the perfect time to do something flirty like compliment you or press a gentle kiss to your fingers. but when theo opened his mouth, something else entirely came out.

"don't call me that."

your face fell and you snatched your hand back to pull nervously along the ends of your hair. shit, shit, shit. that came out completely wrong.

don't call me that?? what kind of asshole said stuff like that to a girl he liked? honestly, you could call him whatever you want so long as you said it in that sweet voice of yours.

"oh. sorry."

"i just mean-- theo. i'm theo... to you..." theo's tongue felt too large for his mouth as he stumbled to get his thoughts to come out of his stupid mouth correctly. "you can call me theo. if you want."

mattheo was trying, and failing, to hide his snicker as he watched his best friend make a complete fool of himself. it wasn't very often that theodore the womanizer became so flustered for a piece of ass. of course, that was the catalyst here. you were clearly far more to theodore than just another piece of ass. that much was abundantly clear to mattheo based just off this interaction alone.

"well, good night, matty... and theo." you said his name hesitantly, almost as if you were worried the boy might spaz out again. with another breathtaking smile, you turned on your back heel and fluttered out of the library.

only after he watched the heavy oak doors close behind you did theo finally allow his head to thud against the desk.

mattheo had given up on hiding his laughter and was inches away from crying actual tears of amusement. he caught his breath momentarily, if only to mock theo's earlier fumble.

"don't call me that?" another fit of giggles stopped him mid-thought. "merlin, theodore, do you like this girl or not?"

theo waved his arms out in front of him in a gesture that was surely meant to be interpreted as "clearly i fucking do". mattheo was inclined to agree with the sentiment. he was most certainly down bad for this little hufflepuff.

"don't worry theo, daphne and i will help you out."

theo really should've known better than to accept help from his crazy best friend, and, if possible, his crazier girlfriend. but after what could only be described as a pathetic first meeting, he would try anything.

"fine."

"oh, c'mon y/n!"

you were uncharacteristically unamused by daphne's antics at the moment. you weren't really sure what she was playing at, but you did know for certain that her plan would land you an awful potions grade.

professor slughorn had been gracious enough to allow you to choose your own partners for today's assignment. the catch was that you weren't sure what you'd be brewing until after you were paired up. this shouldn't have been too much of a problem except, you were abysmal at potions.

daphne had insisted on being your partner, which you didn't understand the benefit of since your friend was equally as awful as you were. "daph, if we partner together, we'll fail."

daphne faced you with a pleading puppy-eyed look that you hadn't known any slytherin capable of producing.

"please. you're my only option to not get stuck with enzo."

as if on cue, the dark haired boy's robes caught on fire as he attempted to light the flame under his cauldron a few stations back. a rather girly yelp left him as he shoved his robe off and onto the floor before stomping on it a few good times to suffocate the fire.

you winced in sympathy towards daphne, still silently scanning the room to see who else might rescue you from a failing grade.

hermione would normally be your first choice, but draco had unfortunately decided not to skip today and snagged his girlfriend before anyone else could. you noticed theo sat next to a grinning mattheo two rows behind you.

you'd only just met the boy yesterday, but you could tell by the disbelieving frown on his face that he was unhappy with his partner. theo was amazing at potions and you were certain he normally paired with blaise, who was the most semi-competent slytherin of the lot when it came to potions. but for some reason, blaise was paired with pansy today. neither of them looked upset by the arrangement, so you tried to put it out of your head and focus on your own situation.

which brought you back to now. the amortentia that you were supposed to be brewing was notably lacking in both luster and pink-ness. it smelled like moldy old socks, which you knew by the mouthwatering aroma in the air that it was not supposed to smell like that.

after nearly 45 minutes of torture, slughorn finally called an end to the brewing and made his rounds about the room. surprisingly, only three potions were made correctly.

hermione's, which you knew would happen after you saw her smacking draco away from the ingredients and cauldron the whole time. pansy and blaise, who despite having succeeded, looked thoroughly worn out from the endeavor. and theo's. it was more shocking than anything that he'd managed to accomplish anything with mattheo as his partner.

"wonderful, class! now, i want everyone to gather around one of the three successful cauldrons around the room. go on." slughorn waited patiently until the class had split itself somewhat evenly into three groups all huddled around each workstation. theo was the closest to you, so you and daphne joined their group.

"now, with your classmates, take turns and tell each other what you smell."

unsurprised when daphne and mattheo smelled each other, you leaned forward hesitantly for your turn. you didn't really know what you'd smell. on your first whiff, two smells in particular hit you hard. "i smell books and wildflowers. and... something else. something... fainter."

slughorn leaned into your small group with a delighted smile. "amazing, miss y/l/n. it's common to smell faint hints of something in amortentia when either the brewer has not acknowlegded a love of something or when a love for that thins is still developing. go on. tell us what it is my dear girl."

"i think it's... fresh cut grass? i can't place where from, though."

"that's alright."

slughorn slinked away without any further explanation. two girls you didn't recognize went next, not at all caught off guard by their smells. then, it was theo's turn and you found yourself more interested in what he smelled than you cared to admit out loud.

"i smell my nonna's fettucine, the grass on the quidditch field, and... some kind of flower."

always quick on the upswing, your face reddened as you realized that the grass you caught wind of earlier was in fact, quidditch field grass. and based off the knowing smirk from mattheo paired with his not so subtle glances between you a theodore, you smelled each other.

the class dispersed shortly afterward, thankfully with no new revelations for your already flimsy love-life.

what you hadn't expected, was for theo to be waiting for you outside the classroom door.

"oh, hi theo. i thought you might've left already."

"i tried. but mattheo threatened to die my hair green, so."

you tried not to be disappointed that he hadn't wanted to stay and talk to you. a long huff from theo had you looking up from the stonework of the floor.

he said something to himself under his breath that sounded suspiciously like "merlin i'm awful at this". before you could ask him to clarify, he'd taken your hand in his and brought it up to his mouth for a soft kiss.

"let me start over. hi, i'm theodore and i've been unashamedly in love with you for the past forever. join me in hogsmeade this weekend?"

[enhani-ki]

snitch - reader x ni-ki

warnings: very suggestive content, making out, cursing, etc...

you stared out the window of the bus. your legs were bouncing uncontrollably while your hands gripped the strap of your bag.

ni-ki's sister sat next to you with phone in hand but her focus kept drifting back to you. she raised her brow, leaning a little closer. "hey, are you okay?"

you snapped out of your thoughts, blinking rapidly. "huh? yeah, i'm fine."

"no, you're not." she nudged your arm with hers. "you've been weird ever since we left the house. you're quiet, and you're acting… i don't know, nervous or something. what's up?"

you opened your mouth to respond but ended up just sighing as there are no words coming out.

because earlier that day, you were just in ni-ki's room sitting cross-legged on the floor, flipping through magazines while his sister searched his desk drawers.

the room smelled faintly of his cologne. fresh and manly which is a scent that always remain whenever ni-ki's nearby.

"i swear, he never keeps anything organized." she muttered while tossing random things in the room. "i just need to find that charger and then we're out of here."

"uhm, you're invading my space." ni-ki showed up, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed and wearing a smirk in his lips.

"well, i know for a fact that my charger is here." his sister shot him a glare. "why don't you make yourself useful?"

"i am." he said smugly. "i'm supervising."

you snorted while flipping a page in the magazine.

his gaze snapped to you and you regretted even reacting. ni-ki's smirk widened. "what? jealous i'm not paying attention to you for once?" he teased, stepping into the room.

you scoffed, looking up at him. "don't flatter yourself."

his sister groaned, annoyed that she knows exactly where this is going. "both of you, shut up. i found it." she held up the tangled mess of cords then turned to you. "be right back! i'll just to grab my bag in my room."

"take your time, sis." ni-ki said then stepped aside to let his sister pass.

the door shut behind him with a soft click. suddenly, the room felt smaller. the sound of ni-ki's footsteps creaking of the floor and the faint rustling of the magazine pages are the only thing you could hear.

slowly, you lifted your eyes to look at him and the look on his face just made your heart jump.

"looks like it's just us now." ni-ki said then he bit his lip.

you felt nervous but you did your best to keep your tone calm and steady. "and?"

ni-ki crouched in front of you, so close you could see the faint freckles scattered across his nose.

"and i've been dying to do this."

you blinked... confused, and before you could ask what he meant, his hand cupped your cheek.

the warmth of his touch sent a jolt throughout your body and the next thing you know is that his lips were on yours.

it wasn't soft or gentle. ni-ki kissed you like he couldn't hold it back anymore, like he'd been waiting for this moment and wasn't about to waste it. his thumb traced your neck as his lips moved against yours, leading you into a kiss that's leaving you both breathless.

the magazine slipped from your hands as you melt under all the intensity. your heart is pounding so hard it's drowning out every rational thought.

ni-ki made everything else fade away.

then the sound of footsteps echoed, making ni-ki pull back immediately. his lips were swollen and his breathing has become uneven. he stood up then covered his mouth, casually leaning back against the wall again like nothing had happened.

the door creaked open and his sister walked in, holding her bag. "ready to go?"

you looked down to hide your face and wiped your mouth before looking at his sister. slowly, you stood up and glared at ni-ki but he didn't even look at you.

"yeah." you answered, standing up with shaky legs.

"good. let's go!" his sister said cheerfully. totally oblivious to what happened in the room just a few seconds ago.

and as you followed her out, you dared one last glance over your shoulder. ni-ki was still leaning against the wall, his arms were crossed and there's a faint smirk playing on his lips.

now, you're on the bus and you can't seem to forget the feeling of making out with ni-ki earlier, the way he touched you, the smug smirk he had thrown your way when you're about to walk out... it all played like an endless loop in your mind.

"i'm- i'm just tired." you said finally, forcing a weak smile. "didn't get much sleep last night."

ni-ki's sister didn't seem convinced and her eyes narrowed slightly as she studied your face. you avoided her eyes, trying to focus on the passing buildings outside.

"okay, but you're literally anxious." she gestured toward your legs, which were still bouncing uncontrollably. "is something bothering you? that stupid ni-ki said something dumb again, didn't he?"

your heart jumped when she mentioned ni-ki's name. you clenched your fists. "no!" you said quickly, a little too defensive. "why would you say that?"

she shrugged, leaning back against the seat. "i don't know? he loves annoying you and i know you can't stand him most of the time. i just thought maybe he said something that offended you or made you angry."

you bit your lip as the truth bubbling dangerously close to the surface.

it's not what he said, it's what he did.

"really, i'm fine." you said, trying to steady your voice. "just tired, that's all."

ni-ki's sister watched you for a moment, then she sighed. "alright, if you say so. but seriously, if something's bothering you, you can tell me. you know that, right?"

you nodded while the guilt were slowly growing inside of you. she had no idea what had happened and the thought of telling her made your stomach twist.

how could you admit that her brother, her annoying, unpredictable brother had kissed you and you didn't even push him away?

the bus reached to a stop. you stood up, slinging the bag over your shoulder. "come on, this is us."

you followed her silently, your legs were still shaky as you stepped off the bus. the chill air hit your face but it did little to clear your spinning thoughts.

and as you walked side by side, ni-ki's sister chatted about something that had happened at school but you're barely hearing her words. your mind was still stuck to what happened in ni-ki's room, replaying the way he had kissed you.

fed up, she stopped abruptly in the middle of the sidewalk, turning to face you. "alright, that's it. spill. what's going on with you?"

you shook your head but she continued. "you're acting so weird and i know it's not just because you're tired."

you froze and her stare pinning you in place. your heart pounded in your chest and for a moment, you considered brushing it off again.

"your brother kissed me."

her jaw dropped and she stared at you like you'd just said the most ridiculous thing she have ever heard. "he, what?!"

you swallowed hard, struggling to talk as you felt your cheeks burning. "back at the house. before we left. he… he kissed me."

her mouth opened and closed as she also struggled to form a response. "i-" meanwhile, your heart felt like it might beat out of your chest.

few days later, you and ni-ki's sister agreed to hang out at her house again, though you had to admit, the idea of going back was not easy but when she told you niki that wasn't home, you eventually agreed. you can't see him. you needed a break from everything that had happened, especially after that one hell of a kiss you still couldn't quite process.

you sat into the couch, trying to distract yourself with some random conversation but it wasn't long before her phone starting to buzz like crazy.

"you said he wouldn't be here!" you hissed, glancing nervously at the front door as ni-ki's sister grabbed her bag.

"i didn't know either! he said he wasn't coming home today." she said apologetically. "i'm so sorry, but i really have to go. it's an emergency. you'll be fine, okay? just ignore him or fucking push him."

and before you could protest, she was already out the door. you exhaled, dreading the thought of being alone with him. of course, it was only a few seconds before ni-ki sneaked into the living room.

"well, well, i didn't know there was a rat here." he said with a smirk, dropping onto the couch comfortably.

you rolled your eyes then crossed your arms.

he tilted his head, his smile widening. "you know, i didn't think that you'd actually snitch on me." he added. "you liked it, don't you?"

"oh, please. you're not funny." you scoffed, already annoyed.

he scooted closer, leaning in just enough to invade your space. "honestly, i'd do it again." he said quietly, low tone and teasing. "but i guess you don't like it."

problem was, you did like it. too much.

"can you get off me?" you snapped, trying to push him away but he was quicker. his hands grabbed your arms, holding you in place as he turned you to face him.

ni-ki's grin turned mischievous as he leaned in closer. "relax." he whispered, burying his face in the crook of your neck. his presence making it impossible to think.

"i'll stop, okay?" he said with his voice muffled against your skin. "just... let me stay like this for a minute."

he then eventually shifted, releasing you from his hold. he stood up slowly and instead of walking away, he crouched slightly to bring himself eye-level with you as you sat frozen on the couch.

his hands reached out to gently cup your face, thumbs are brushing against your cheeks and his stare roamed all over your face.

neither of you spoke for a moment. ni-ki's usual teasing aura is gone and replaced by a soft longing look. "sorry if i made you uncomfortable, y/n." he said, voice unusually quiet and sincere. "i won't do it again."

but just as you opened your mouth to respond, ni-ki leaned in. his lips met yours in a kiss that was quick yet impossibly long at the same time. it was firm and deep, stealing every thought from your mind as his hands held your face gently.

the world seemed to stop again and the only thing you could feel is the way his lips molded perfectly against yours.

his lips stayed close for a fraction longer than they should have, as if he couldn't quite bring himself to let go. ni-ki's hands falled from your face then cleared his throat after he straightened himself. for a second, he just stood there, looking at you with an expression you couldn't read.

"that's the last time." he softly then continued. "i promise."

without another word, ni-ki turned and walked away, leaving you stunned, dizzy, with your lips tingling from the kiss.

then the next few days were… strange.

ni-ki didn't tease or corner you, he wasn't smirking at you from across the room and he didn't even invade your space with his confidence. he barely even acknowledged you.

at first, you told yourself this was exactly what you wanted. after all, you'd spent so much time annoyed by his constant teasing. but as the days stretched on? the silence started to hurt you.

and ni-ki was just there, of course. passing by, sitting on the couch when you're coming over to visit his sister. yet, he acted like you didn't exist. no exchanges, banters, no comments, not even a glance in your direction.

it was unsettling.

you found yourself watching him more than you should, waiting for him to say something, anything. but he didn't.

and it drove you crazy.

why isn't he teasing you anymore? why isn't he leaning close, crowding your space, making you breathless, annoyed-

you hated how much you noticed the absence of his attention and you hated it even more when you realized how desperate it made you feel.

it didn't make sense. you had told yourself you couldn't stand him and that his antics were irritating at best. you always want to punch him in his face. but now, without him, your chest felt hollow and your body felt colder than usual.

it was quiet in their house as you leaned against the kitchen counter, scrolling through your phone. you had just been talking to ni-ki's sister before she left to grab something from the store, leaving you alone again.

you heard soft sound of footsteps behind you, and when you turned, there he was. ni-ki, looking handsome as ever.

"where's my sister?" he asked you, eyes briefly flicked to yours.

you gulped after hearing his voice. "she just went to grab something at the store." you replied, trying to keep your cool.

"oh." he nodded and turned to leave.

your heart raced as you watched him about to walk away, something inside you were screaming to do something, to stop him and before you could stop yourself, his name slipped from your lips. "ni-ki..."

he paused, turning his head slightly to look at you over his shoulder. "what?"

you hesitated, looking at his eyes. "it's… nothing." you whispered, immediately regretting it.

ni-ki let out a soft sigh and turned fully towards you, his hands now resting on his hips, inhaling deeply then exhaled slowly before speaking. "just say it." he said, his voice was steady but anticipating.

your throat felt tight but still, the words blurted out before you could overthink them. "i miss you, ni-ki."

for a moment, he froze and internally, he was screaming.

he is screaming.

pure joy rushed through him and it's so loud in his head he could hardly think.

because you missed him. you actually said you missed him.

ni-ki wanted to jump, to shout, to do anything to release the excitement surging through his body but he kept his composure.

he knew he would play this perfectly... the lack of teasing, the distance, he knew you'd miss him, and he would make you realize it yourself.

his calmness contrasts the whirlwind he's feeling inside, ni-ki stepped closer and smiled as soon as you locked eyes, his expression was unreadable again.

and when he reached you, he wrapped his arms around your shoulders, pulling you into a tight yet gentle embrace. he didn't say anything, just leaned down to press a kiss on top of your head.

then without letting go, he kissed your temple. then your cheek. then your forehead.

the sweetness of his kisses made you chuckle softly, "ni-ki…" you giggled, your hands moving to rest on his arms to feel the warmth of his skin.

you felt his lips move across your face, pressing soft, long kisses in a way that felt both comforting and possessive, as if he was silently claiming you, telling you without words just how much he wanted this.

how much he wanted you.

"stop laughing." he murmured and smiled against your temple.

"i can't." you whispered, your fingers lightly gripping his arms. "you're..."

"perfect?" he teased, finally pulling back slightly, his face hovering close to yours with a grin on his lips.

you rolled your eyes, giggles softening as you looked up at him. "maybe."

"what? maybe?" he echoed, his grin widening as he leaned in to press another quick kiss to your cheek. "you're so lucky, i'm in a good mood right now."

you smiled, tip toeing to give him a kiss. your heart fluttering as ni-ki stayed close with his arms never loosening their hold.

a/n: play shinee - replay ><

マスターリストm.list

[kateschi]

the first lean

synopsis: shoto faces his fears as he holds your daughter for the first time.

pairing: timeskip!todoroki shoto x f!reader

the hospital room is silent, save for the soft hum of the overhead lights and the occasional shuffle of feet in the hallway.

you lie back on the bed, exhaustion pulling at your limbs, but your gaze stays fixed on shoto.

he sits in the chair beside you, his hands on his knees, his posture tense.

his expression is unreadable, but you can see the hesitation in the way his fingers flex, the faint furrow in his brows.

the bassinet sits just a few steps away, the faintest of movements stirring from within it.

the nurse approaches, a bundle of soft fabric cradled in her arms. “are you ready to hold your daughter?” she asks, her voice gentle.

shoto doesn’t answer right away. his eyes flicker to you, then to the tiny bundle in the nurse’s arms.

“I…I don’t know if I should,” he says finally, his voice low. “what if I hurt her?”

your heart aches at the vulnerability in his words, and you reach out, your hand brushing his arm. “shoto,” you say softly, “you won’t. she’s safe with you.”

he hesitates, his jaw tightening, but eventually, he nods. the nurse steps closer, carefully transferring your baby into his arms.

shoto’s hands tremble slightly as he takes her, cradling her against his chest. for a moment, he just stares, his expression shifting as he takes her in.

she’s tiny, her cheeks round and soft, her little hands peeking out from the swaddle. shoto’s breath catches as she stirs, her face scrunching slightly before relaxing again.

“she’s…chubbier than I expected,” he murmurs, almost to himself. “like those old pictures my mom kept of me.”

a small laugh escapes you, though your voice is tired. “she takes after you, then.”

his lips twitch in a faint smile, but his focus doesn’t waver. he adjusts his hold slightly, his movements careful and deliberate, as if she might shatter with too much force.

your little girl shifts again, her head turning just slightly until her cheek rests against his chest. when she leans into him, her tiny hand brushing the fabric of his shirt, shoto freezes.

the room feels impossibly still as his expression crumbles.

his eyes glisten, tears slipping down his cheeks silently as he stares at her. “she knows me,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “she leaned towards me.”

you watch him, your throat tightening at the sight. “of course she does,” you say gently.

shoto doesn’t respond immediately. his gaze remains locked on the tiny face nestled against his chest, his tears slipping silently onto his cheeks.

“I didn’t think…” he starts, then pauses, swallowing hard. his grip on her adjusts, his thumb brushing lightly against her swaddle. “I didn’t think I’d feel like this. like nothing else matters except her.”

your heart swells at his words.

even in his hesitance, in the fear he doesn’t know how to hide, you see the depth of his love. “that’s because she’s your world now,” you murmur. “our world.”

finally, he looks at you, his eyes shining, though his expression is soft. “you’ve been my world for a long time,” he says, his voice barely audible. “she’s just…an extension of that.”

your brows lift at his words, and you give him a faint smirk despite the tiredness weighing you down.

“getting a bit poetic on me, huh? must be all those sleepless nights coming up with baby names.”

shoto lets out a breath that might almost be a laugh, though his focus stays on your baby.

“you’re the one who vetoed all my suggestions,” he murmurs, carefully brushing the soft blanket back to get a better look at her tiny face.

“because you wanted to name her after food,” you retort, a little laugh escaping you. “we’re not naming our kid mochi, shoto.”

“she does look a little like one,” he muses, his lips twitching into a rare, lopsided smile.

you can’t argue with that. her round cheeks and delicate features are undeniably adorable, her resemblance to a sweet dumpling undeniable—though that might just be the exhaustion talking.

still, you find yourself relaxing in the warmth of the moment.

shoto’s eyes shift to you after a beat, his expression softening. he leans forward slightly, adjusting her in his arms as he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, the words so quiet they almost don’t reach you.

your smile falters. “sorry? for what?”

“for the pain,” he says, his lips brushing your skin again as he pulls back. “for what you went through to bring her into the world. I…I hate that I couldn’t do anything.”

the vulnerability in his voice tugs at you, and you lift a hand to rest it against his cheek. “shoto,” you say softly, “you were here. that’s everything I needed. and look at her—she’s worth all of it.”

his jaw tightens, his mismatched eyes darting back to her. she stirs again, a tiny hand poking out from the swaddle, and he immediately adjusts his hold, his movements so careful it’s almost comical.

“still,” he murmurs. “I don’t think I could watch you go through that again.”

a surprised laugh escapes you, though it’s weak from exhaustion. “what are you saying? no more kids?”

he looks at you seriously, his lips pressing into a firm line. “I’m saying,” he begins slowly, “that I can’t see you in pain like that again. one baby is enough.”

you roll your eyes, though the tenderness in his words makes your chest ache. “you’re being dramatic.”

“maybe,” he admits, his lips twitching in that familiar, understated smile. “but I mean it. she’s enough for me.”

your laugh is softer this time, more of a breath than a sound. “let’s see how you feel when she starts asking for a sibling,” you tease, though you know his resolve runs deeper than he’s letting on.

she shifts in his arms then, letting out a tiny noise that could almost be a sigh.

both of you freeze, staring at her in wonder as she settles again, her little fingers curling against shoto’s shirt.

you meet his eyes, feeling a warmth that goes beyond the exhaustion and the ache in your body. this is shoto, in his quiet, steady love, holding both your worlds in his arms.

you lean against the pillow, letting your eyes drift closed, secure in the knowledge that this moment—this new chapter—belongs to all three of you.

kofi — navigation — masterlist

do not copy, translate, or plagarize

[chelseeebe]

just a taste

18+. mdni. smut. kinda perv!eddie x fem!reader. he is a lil freaky in this i'll admit.

a/n: i just love the idea of the citrus six all living together lol idk i think it’s so nice also i have never watched cheers i just googled 1991 american tv shows and picked one at random LMAO ++ for the movie, i thought it’d be a nice lil easter egg for them to watch something with winona in:,)

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

eddie doesn’t know who you are or why you’re coming to visit or why exactly it was him that was being made to vacate his room for the two weeks that you were here. 

“c’mon eddie,” robin pleads, nay, demands, “you sleep on the couch most nights anyway, what’s the difference?” 

“uh, maybe because it’s my room? i don’t want some random girl in there touching my stuff,” almost flabbergasted that she’s even asking. 

“she’s not a random girl,” robin frowns, “she’s my friend and she needs somewhere to stay.” 

“tell her there’s a great hotel in town,” rolling his eyes, trying to leave the conversation before she breaks out the puppy dog eyes. "i'll even give her a ride if you ask nicely," no longer interested in entertaining this conversation.

“i’ll give you fifty bucks,” robin deadpans, using her last resort.

this was bribery of the highest order but eddie's not stupid. fifty bucks is fifty bucks.

“now?” 

she sighs, sliding her wallet from her pocket to reluctantly hand over the bill. she stops just before it touches his palm, “promise you’ll clean your room.” 

eddie goes to grab the paper but robin’s faster, jolting her hand into the air, “and change your sheets.” 

“okay,” he huffs, holding his palm outstretched. 

she graciously places the note down, smiling wickedly as she does so before skipping off back to her own room. 

he can only roll his eyes, turning around to the shit hole that was his room, wondering if fifty dollars was worth having to tackle it. 

-

eddie’s sat on the couch when you arrive, barely looking back as robin begins to fuss, talking loudly about your journey. he doesn’t really care enough to involve himself, besides, elvis presley had just given sam a very important message. 

“eddie,” robin hisses, standing in front of the screen, “don’t be rude, say hello,” her hands firmly on her hips like she was his mother or something. 

he looks up at the looming figure by the couch, hoping his eyes hadn’t given his immediate shock away too much. 

you flash him a sheepish smile back, waggling your fingers in a short wave. 

two weeks on the couch didn’t seem so bad now. 

not if you were sleeping in his bed. 

it’s just a shame that he wouldn’t be in there sharing it. 

“hey,” he stands, hoping to indiscreetly catch his breath, “i’m- uh, i’m eddie,” offering his hand out, though he regrets it as soon as it’s done. 

who shakes hands now? christ. he needed to get a grip, and badly. 

“hey,” you reply, your name dripping from your tongue. though you do shake his hand, not bothering to hide your confusion in the process. 

“eddie very kindly said you could have his room,” a bright, big sarcastic smile on her lips. 

“yeah.. no biggie..” christ, he’s almost panting. “do whatever you want in there.. or you know, just- just make yourself at home.” 

his desperate pleas for the earth to split open and swallow him whole go unanswered. instead, robin shoots him a concerned glare before ushering you away from his weird, longing gaze. 

'pull it together loser' she mouths before disappearing, leaving him to reflect upon how utterly hard he had just fumbled that entire situation. 

-

when everyone’s home from work and you’ve exchanged niceties and greetings with the rest of the house, robin brightly suggests a movie. 

eddie usually hated movie nights in the house. 

jonathan would want to watch some indie cult classic that no one else had ever heard of, steve wanted to watch some dumb comedy that only he’d find funny and then nancy and robin typically opted for the romance genre. 

leaving eddie and argyle with absolutely no choice but to sit in silence as they bickered. 

tonight it’s different, you get to pick. 

and now he’s not saying that whatever you choose will forever change the way he views you but.. well, that’s actually exactly it. 

you land on edward scissorhands. 

not the worst choice you could’ve made, and hey, his mom used to call him edward when he was in real bad trouble. 

in the end, it doesn’t really matter what you had picked because eddie can’t muster up enough energy to actually care about the film. not while your thighs are peeking out from underneath your oversized shirt. he can’t help but wonder what they’d feel like wrapped around his ears. what previous sounds would fall out of your mouth in response.

at some point during the movie, you stand up and walk out of the room to the kitchen but that doesn’t stop him. staring through the open door, marvelling at the way the hem of your shirt lifts, exposing the tiny shorts you had on underneath. 

he’s practically hanging over the back of the couch to get a look, craning his neck at a ninety degree angle just to get a glimpse of your soft, pillowy skin. pinching himself as he tries to resist the urge to just sink his teeth into your inner thigh.

robin jabs her elbow into his ribcage, drawing his eyes back to the room with a grunt and a harsh glare thrown her way. 

“you’ve been staring at her all night,” she whispers angrily into his ear, “stop it, or next time it’s your balls,” a harsh warning he didn’t find entirely necessary. 

you sidle back into the room, drink in hand and eddie can’t help but let his eyes wander over again, short glances that robin hopefully wouldn’t pick up on. 

he can’t help it, some magnetic force swaying his gaze in your direction. he wishes so badly that he could just crawl out of his head and tell you how much he wanted you. 

unfortunately for eddie, he’d instead spend the night dreaming of your ass and all the ways he could have you if he’d only grow a backbone. 

-

living alongside you is an entirely new feat eddie’s not sure he’ll survive. 

it’s torturous. 

testing the limits of how ridiculously horny one man can get without self-imploding. 

so close and yet so far. each night you’d tuck yourself into his bed, doing god knows what in between his sheets all without eddie getting a look in.

of course he’d made up a hundred different scenarios to fall asleep to each night. 

his favourite being the one where he walks into his bedroom to find you mouth open, legs apart, too encapsulated in your pleasure to notice him. only until you do, inviting him closer, between those supple thighs of yours, a forbidden nirvana he’ll never get to know. 

though more often than not he’s cruelly forced back into reality by robin ripping the curtains open at the ass crack of dawn, blaring sunlight on his face as you slip away from the grapples of his dream land. 

now is his opportunity, the house quiet, bar the muffled giggles of you and robin upstairs. he’s safe for now, he thinks, rather foolishly. it’s late, the rest of them asleep or too busy in their own rooms to catch him in the act. 

eddie’s never done anything like this before. it’s disgusting, perverted to the core. 

good grief, this is prosecutable behaviour. 

tiptoeing down the hall to his room, the door open just a crack, enticing him in further. he can still hear you on the floor above, giving him enough confidence to push it open a little more, edging inside with a quick glance back down the hall, just in case. 

gratefully it seemed that you were just as messy as he was, your clothes strewn across the floor. his eyes immediately turning to the peeking of lace from under the pile. glancing one last time at the cracked door, ensuring that absolutely nobody would see him. 

reaching down to gather the fabric in one quick swoop, bunching them in his palm as he lets out a quick sigh of relief. 

oh fuck. they were so soft, fingers spreading to really get a feel. he wasn't even going to take them, he'd just wanted a little look, something to help his overactive imagination get all the important details right.

“what are you doing?” startling him in this precarious position, the lace of your underwear entangled around his fingertips. 

eddie freezes, he can feel the heat rising through his chest, all the way up to the tips of his ears. scarlet red. 

“uh.. i..i-i don’t know..” he hasn’t done anything like this before, he swears. 

your mouth is open in a sort of half-smirk, half-perplexed gawp, closing the door before he could bolt. 

you move around the mess, creeping closer until he can feel you brushing against his side, peering over into his hand. 

“oh wow..” you remark, breath hot and sweet against his cheek, “what were you gonna do with those?” 

eddie feels sick, trying not to projectile vomit across his room. there’s no way you wouldn’t tell robin. fuck. he could hear you now, voice full of disgust, robin laughing at how pathetic he was. 

“n-nothing i swear..” stumbling through his sentence, “i was just..” excuses fail to come to mind, “i was uhm.. looking for something,” the absolute best his flustered mind to muster up. 

“oh really?” reaching around to untangle them from his hand, “you sure about that?” 

there’s no anger to your voice, but he doesn’t dare turn around to look at your face. afraid of what he’ll find. your eyes pitying, sad that he has to root around your dirty laundry to get off. 

“i’m- i’m sure,” though the crack in his voice gives him away. 

you hum, coming around to stand in front of his gormless face, “so you don’t wanna keep these?” holding the evidence up to his face, the hem just barely grazing his cheek. 

eddie’s knees almost buckle, his breath shuddering as any semblance of composure he had left, floats right out the window. 

“here,” reaching forward to tuck the baby blue fabric into the waistband of his sweatpants, your eyes never once leaving his as you do so. “you keep those.. but next time just ask, okay?” 

he nods like an obedient dog, lapping up the scraps you were throwing him. he could stand here all night long, keeping up the weird little power game you’d started. 

“goodnight eddie,” you smile, giving him a gentle nudge, a sign for him to get the fuck out. 

you were the master, he was just the lap dog, eager to please. 

-

at breakfast the next morning, he struggles to even keep his eyes open. having spent an embarrassingly long amount of time on the couch last night shamelessly sniffing the lace you’d gifted him. 

you don’t even acknowledge it, or him for that matter. happily chatting along with nancy about some news article. 

“oh and eddie,” robin begins, flashing him a stern look, “i don’t appreciate finding your fucking panties in between the couch cushions,” 

he chokes on his mouthful, his knife clattering against the table in shock. a multitude of eyes turn to stare at the spectacle he was making. 

“they’re- they’re not mine,” clearing his throat as he clears his name, though he doesn’t dare look in your direction, terrified that he’d absolutely lose his mind if he did. 

“well whoever’s they are, i don’t care, stop leaving them on the couch.. i’m sure our guest doesn’t want to sit amongst dirty underwear,” she bites, calming down now she had gotten her point across. 

if only she knew. 

eddie must’ve fallen asleep with them still attached to his hand, thanking his lucky stars that no one had walked in on him with them pressed to his nose.  

he keeps his head low, focusing on the plate in front of him. nothing had ever been as mortifying as this. not even the time he had slipped off the dinner table in the middle of the cafeteria. 

cutlery scrapes and clinks against the china, uncomfortable silence until argyle clears his throat, “gnarly meal robin, thanks dude,” seemingly settling the tense atmosphere, for now. 

everybody hums in agreement, getting back to their food without another word. but your eyes peek up, meeting his with an indescribable glint. and really, the worst part is that eddie would sit through this horrific situation a hundred more times, just for one more measly sniff at your panties. 

-

eddie can’t take it anymore. 

he’s never been so pent up in his entire life. and he’s tried to hold on until he could move back into his room but he couldn’t last any longer. 

but he’s careful, waiting for everyone to trundle on off to bed, listening carefully for the muted click of the light switch and even then, waiting another hour to be sure. 

the clock glares an alarming 1:04 by the time his belt clinks and his jeans come down, the first of them would be awake in just a few hours, ready to take you on to the airport. 

he wishes it would’ve played out differently, that he wouldn’t be sat here on the last night of your stay alone. but alas, eddie’s never been particularly brave and especially not in regards to hot women. 

your panties wrapped around his right hand as he spits on his left, wrapping around his stiff cock while his fingertips play with the lace in his other hand. 

“ohh fuck,” he hisses, wanting nothing more than to start hollering the house down. 

robin wouldn’t be too pleased if she ever found out what he’d done. and he can’t really afford to get the entire couch dry-cleaned so he really must be careful. 

thinking quick, he shoves his t-shirt into his mouth, muffling the chorus of grunts and groans threatening to spill over into the dark room. the muted light from the tv illuminates his face, breathing loudly through his nose 

he hadn’t heard the door open or the soft sound of your feet padding down the hall, only made aware of your presence when he reopens his eyes, near enough jumping out of his bones. 

how long had you been there watching him shudder and whine?

“fuck,” he exclaims, fist still wrapped tight around his throbbing cock, too aroused to care about it too much. 

“you want some help with that?” 

eddie looks at his dick, then back at you, mouth hung open in a mixture of awe and confusion. 

it’s not very clear but you move closer anyway, sinking to your knees and nestling in between his spread legs. 

“okay?” maintaining eye contact despite how difficult it was, eyes bright and eager. 

he nods, unable to comprehend what was happening. knowing he’d wake up from this twisted dream to some soggy boxers and a whole lotta shame. 

your palm wraps around the base of his cock, shooing his hands away to make room, smiling as your lips wrap around the already leaking tip. were you a psychopath? were you placed on this earth to goad and tease him?

this isn’t real. this isn’t real. the voice repeats around his head though it’s quickly silenced by your tongue swirling circles around the tip of his cock, readjusting his t-shirt to bite down harshly on the fabric. 

eddie’s hands lay useless on his thighs, twitching to intertwine with your hair, still doubting the reality of the situation. this could all be a dream and the second he touches your hair, you’d disappear from in front of his eyes.

the t-shirt falls from his lips, “fuuck,” grunting into the tense air, gritting his teeth so as to not expose your precarious position to the rest of the house. 

the wet sounds of your lips wrapped tight around his cock make his toes curl, his hands find your hair, not without prompting from you. tugging gently at the tendrils as his head starts to spin. 

when your eyes look up to meet his, eddie thinks he might just cum right down your throat then and there. he can see that troublesome glint in your eye, a roaring fire that he so desperately wants to keep stoking. 

your fingers slide up his thigh, finding his neglected balls and with a slight smirk, you grab ahold, gently fondling them as his brain melts out of his ears. 

no one had ever, ever made him feel so good. collectively losing brain cells when you hum on his cock, getting just as much out of this as he was. 

“oh yeah, fuck- shit fuck, i’mcummingi’mcummingi’mcumming,” eddie’s mouth rushes, louder than he ever should’ve been. bright flashes of light fill his peripheral, using your scalp as leverage to keep himself on the couch. 

his hips stutter, thrusting into your mouth with his fingers tight in your hair, yanking harshly in an effort to get your lips off of him before he came everywhere. 

you don’t budge, nails digging into his thigh as his release seeps down your throat, his eyes squeezing shut as his fist instinctively comes up to muffle his mouth, moaning into his clammy palm instead of alerting the entire house. 

eddie’s other hand lets go of his strong hold on your hair, allowing you to get off of his dick, panting happily as you sit up between his knees and with lips glistening with his release, you kiss him. all soft and gentle while his brain fails to compute. 

it should be gross. but eddie just can’t find it in himself to care, because in reality, this was the hottest thing that had ever happened in his measly little life. 

“please let me taste you,” he begs between kisses, grasping desperately at your waist, the fabric of your shirt slipping between his desperate fingers.

you giggle, pulling back to look at him through the dimmed light, “not now,” you hover just above, constantly teasing and unobtainable

“well when?" jutting his bottom lip out in hopes it'd convince you to change your mind.

"when i'm back," letting him down gently. eddie'd count the seconds till you came back if that was what it took to get even a tiny glimpse of your pussy.

“what time do you leave?” he pants, chasing your lips. eddie was nothing if not a chancer, though if it hadn't happened already, there's a miniscule chance of it happening now.

“seven,” whispering back, a hint of annoyance that this build up had only crescendoed now, just as you were about to leave. he'll blame robin for that, poking her nose in and trying to turn him off. it shouldn't have worked. he should've been braver.

“but it’s your turn,” an awful sadness and regret overcoming him. someone better, someone like steve, would've had you pinned to that couch by now, his head between your thighs and your slick dripping down his chin.  

“next time,” only repeating yourself, smiling coyly before you plant one last kiss to his longing lips before standing fully upright and disappearing back off to his room, leaving him reeling with a story nobody else would ever believe.

[a-hazbin-reader]

Not me back on my BS 👀

Imagine being Alastor's wife in life and thinking you had the perfect husband even if he was a little distant most of the time. Then he goes missing, and you spend your entire life searching for him despite everyone around you wanting you to move on

When you die and become an angel you just assume that you'll see beloved Alastor again only to be confused that you can't find him. So you spend your afterlife roaming heaven in search of your husband.

It never crossed your mind that Alastor wasn't in heaven.

Until you find out about Adam and his exorcist army going to hell every year, and then you're stuck with the uncomfortable idea that your husband might be a demon. So you find a way to sneak down into hell during the extermination.

You almost regret the decision once you see the carnage and horror happening around you but you're determined to find Alastor. You don't even care that you're stranded in hell once the extermination is over, you had to know if he was down here.

You're easy prey for demons, so you have to do your best to be discreet about your true nature while you try to get information about Alastor. Only to find yourself surprised and confused when people talk about The Radio Demon instead.

"That couldn't be my husband..."

Your husband was kind, gentle, and warm with you while this Radio Demon sounded cruel, manipulative, and cold-hearted. The idea of these two Alastors being one and the same was baffling to you.

But despite your denial, all the facts lead to back to this overlord, a princess and a hotel... so for the sake of your sanity, you decide to find this hotel and put your fears to rest. You hide your angelic features as best you can and head out with your heart in your throat.

The hotel is beautiful and grand yet a bit creepy feeling, it's also rather empty despite it's large size. You feel swallowed up by it as you step inside, looking around for any sign of your Alastor but finding none.

You're just about to turn around and leave, satisfied that this lead was a dead end when suddenly a tall blonde demon woman in a red suit stops you, all smiles and giddiness. Somewhere in between excited squeals and being dragged around by your arm you manage to catch her name.

"You're Charlie..? As in-"

"OH! Don't let that silly title intimidate you! I'm here to help!"

She starts showing you around the hotel and introducing you to the staff and other guests, obviously assuming you're there to stay.

"Ah, I'm sorry, but I'm not here to be a guest... I'm looking for my husband and heard he might be here."

"You're husband? Well, I'm sorry but you've already met everybody here except for Alastor-"

"What about me~?"

You immediately recognize the voice behind the static, turning to see your husband-The Radio Demon-your Alastor-

He takes you in slowly, his smile faltering every so slightly-more of a twitch really- and his eyes widening in surprise once he realizes you're standing in front of him

"Y/N? What are you doing here?"

You're already walking towards him quickly, drawn to him like a magnet and forgetting all about pretending to be a sinner, wrapping your arms around him as you try not to cry with happiness.

"I've missed you so much, Alastor....I never stopped looking for you-this has to be a mistake why weren't you in heaven? I thought I'd see you again after I died but then you weren't there either and-I had to find you!"

He's stiff and awkward at first, hyper aware of your audience and baffled by your angelic appearance. How did you even get down here?? You didn't belong here-why did you try to find him?

Alastor grabs your arms and makes to push you away but one look at your watery eyes and he melts just like when you two were alive. He suddenly pulls you in tighter instead and refuses to look anybody in the eyes, instead focusing on you.

His wife, his innocent wife who had forced her way into his heart back when he was alive was here in his arms. She left heaven to come find a man who had only married her for the sake of keeping up appearances and stayed with her because she made him feel...something close to love...(it was love) (was not) (was too)

You had no business being in hell, not when there were so many ways you could get hurt down here. So many different ways he could hurt you... So Alastor nuzzled his head into your hair, breathed in your scent and pulled away from you.

Sharp claws scraped against your chin as he forced you to look into eyes that were once so familiar to you, his grip loosened slightly as you cupped his cheek. Even now that his true nature was revealed to you, you were unafraid and enamored with him.

"You should've stayed in heaven, my dear. As much as I have missed you as well... you don't belong down here-"

"I belong with you, I'm not leaving when I only just found you again!"

Your stubbornness when it came to him was always something he had liked about you, he was glad to see you still had it. At a loss for how to send you home and some part of him missing your company, Alastor decided to make a selfish decision.

"Alright my dear, you can stay down here and rot with the rest of us if you wish~ But I must warn you~"

Your relief is cut short when he suddenly pulls you in close by your waist, sharp teeth snarling at you in a twisted evil smile as you stare up at him with wide eyes.

"Warn me about what..?"

Alastor pulls you in a bit closer, lips nearly touching yours when suddenly he drops you and you barely manage to catch yourself. He's chuckling and walking away from you, a mean side to him that you've never seen before.

"You're going to have to deal with the real me now, I do so hope you can handle it~"

Spoiler alert: Wifey can match his freak just fine once she gets the hang of how things work 😏 but he's gotta try not to fall for her~

Ugh had this idea in my head for awhile where wifey is an angel who sneaks into hell to find Alastor but has to come to terms with the fact that he's MEAN 😡 and Alastor has to keep up the mean persona because all he wants is to spoil and coddle wifey but HES NOT IN LOVE HE SWEARS HE WAS ONLY USING HER AND ALL THESE FEELING AND URGES ARE JUST SECOND NATURE FROM MANIPULATING HER FEELINGS

Then maybe a part 2 where wifey realizes that a lot of their relationship is one-sided and she left eternal paradise to be with this jerk but oops- Alastor realizes how whipped he is for her and that he actually loves her

☺️

[dexxtrosee]

Safekeeping

Dr. Michael "Robby" Robinavitch x f!reader

Summary: A baby got to the ER thirty minutes ago and hasn't stopped crying since. It's starting to get on everyone's nerves. He is, unfortunately, the one in charge, so it's his problem to deal with.

A/N: Set a few months after the last episode of The Pitt's S1. Mind you, this was supposed to be me testing the waters with the fandom and instead I got dunked, I just can't get this man out of my head. Oh well. Part one, I guess?

There´s a baby crying two rooms away from the one he’s at. 

The baby hasn’t stopped crying in thirty minutes, a world of difference from the case Robby is currently using as a teaching lesson for Santos and Whitaker. He doesn’t need to be a genius in emotional expression to notice she’s bored to death, while Whitaker seems relieved to be away from an immediate life threatening situation for once. He won’t admit it, not even to Dana, but he is using it as both a punishment for her and a break for him. He barely got between her and an abusive mother just a few hours ago before they drew blood. He managed to save Santos from being escorted out in cuffs along with the mother by sheer force of willpower and some favors owed by the cops.

And he won’t say it to her either, but if he were thirty years younger and a tad more stupid, that would have been him. She doesn’t need to know that, though.

“Are you a smoker, miss Rossi?”

The lady, a seventy year old woman who insists on them calling her miss, because she’s “divorced, dammit”, shakes her head and turns to look at her granddaughter. Robby can practically hear her thoughts (Can you believe this boy?) and has to bite back a chuckle. 

“Do you, by any chance, often cook on firewood?”

Miss Rossi shakes her head again, this time with an added eye roll. The baby hasn’t stopped crying. 

Whitaker is starting to play with his hands, glancing nervously at the granddaughter and at Santos. The boredom seems to have eased a bit, now replaced by amusement from seeing the poor boy suffer. Robby doesn’t interfere. 

“Have you done strenuous activity recently?”

At this, the teenage girl sitting by her side perks up, glancing at her grandmother with pursed lips. Robby smiles when Whitaker catches it and latches onto it like a starved animal. 

“Maybe cleaning around the house? Too long walks? Heavy lifting?”

Miss Rossi finally seems to think about it. Santos starts fidgeting where she’s standing, checking her watch. He suppresses a sigh and writes a mental note about mentioning it to her. The baby hasn’t stopped crying. 

“Well, I went with the kids to the park this morning. Had to chase them around when they grabbed the youngest and put her inside the basket of one of the bikes! Can you believe it? Those fuckers.”

They all let out some chuckles and sighs of relief. 

“Are you from Allegheny, miss Rossi?”

She nods, smiling for the first time since they both got here. “Born and raised, boy.”

Robby nods at him, giving him a thumbs up. Santos tries to hide her own smile. 

“Alright, seems you can handle this one.” Robby glares briefly at Santos, and she nods with so much annoyance he shakes his head. “I’ll go check on other cases, call me if anything happens.”

He doesn’t wait to see the answers, just steps out and walks straight to the room with the crying baby. 

Before he enters, he notices Dana standing inside and talking softly to, he assumes, the mother. She has her back to him, shoulders shaking and head hung low. Samira and McKay are bent over a cradle. A hole inside his stomach appears when he notices how anxious they both seem to be. 

“Good morning, I’m doctor Robinavitch. What seems to be the problem here?”

Dana turns, frowning and looking at him like he’s the worst thing to happen to her today. He reels back slightly, tries to peek behind her back. She shakes her head, motions him to fuck off. 

McKay doesn’t move. Samira stands up straight like he just pulled her back string, nervous. “All good, sir. We can handle this one, no worries.”

Robby frowns, bites back the need to tell them all off. “Well, that poor thing hasn’t stopped crying in more than half an hour. Are you sure?”

McKay waves at him from her bent position, shaking her head furiously without actually turning to look at him. 

Without saying anything, he turns to Dana again. She sighs, lets go of the mother’s hands and pushes him out of the room with no explanation. Before she closes back the curtain, he tries and fails to catch a glance at the mother.

“What the fuck is going on?”

He loves Dana, he truly does. Still, sometimes he wishes he could work with someone less hardheaded. He has enough of it in himself.

“She doesn’t want any men near her baby.”

Robby tilts his head, frowns deeper. “Should I call the cops?”

Something inside him burns and itches when Dana shakes her head. “They’re already aware of anything worth reporting.”

Robby nods, clenches his hands. He doesn’t know what to do with himself when the baby lets out a louder cry. “What the hell is wrong then? They haven’t figured it out yet? Should I bring Collins here?”

She’s busy dealing with a broken leg from a teenage boy that got too excited with his skateboard, but the cries are starting to get on everyone’s nerves, he can see it. 

“Maybe you should, yeah.”

“Fuck.”

He turns away, walks to Langdon and grabs him away from the nurse bay. He doesn’t protest, hasn’t since he came back last month. It still weirds Robby out. 

“I need you to finish Collins’ case, she has to help out with a different one.”

“I can do it,” The need for approval drips from his words. It still twists Robby’s chest. He shakes his head, doesn’t explain, pushes him inside and motions Collins out with just a smile to the parents.

“Need you to help in Room Two, I’m sorry.”

She gets it immediately, smiles softly and nods. She’s trying again, Robby knows. Still, he’s tried his best to keep her away from any babies. 

When they go back, Dana steps out and grabs Robby. He lets her lead him to the corner between rooms, crossing his arms. “I’m not going anywhere near the baby unless it’s completely necessary, I know. What now?”

“She wants to talk to you.”

The mother, he guesses. He nods, interlaces his fingers and then unthreads them when he notices how tense he feels from it. 

“Just… be gentle, Robby. She looks six seconds away from throwing up out of stress.”

There are so many things he could say to that. Instead, he just nods. Dana goes inside, doesn’t come out again.

When the mom steps out, the first thing that crosses his mind is “wow, holy shit”.

Then he starts berating himself because, holy fuck, what the hell was that?

You take a few steps closer to him, playing with your fingers, and cleaning a few stray tears away from your face. His hands twitch by his sides.

“Hi.”

Dear God, take him now. Warmth spreads all over his chest when your voice reaches his ears. 

“Hello,” he starts. He has to clear his throat before continuing. “Dana mentioned you wanted to talk to me, I’m doctor Robinavitch. Or Doctor Robby, if you prefer.”

You nod, trying and failing to smile at him. “Nice to meet you. Are you… like, the boss around here?”

He nods, unsure of how you may react. He doesn’t notice any disgust or annoyance, but there’s no positive reaction either. He relaxes his shoulders and makes sure to leave his hands visible. 

“Indeed I am. What can I do for you?”

He has to hold his breath when you raise your head to look at him straight to his eyes. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck-

“Can you make sure no male nurses or doctors come near her?”

Irrationally, he wants to sit you down and make you spit out any and all information about your baby. Why you seem so scared one second and ready for combat the next, why your eyes are so pretty, why you don’t let him near the babygirl.

Instead, he just nods, asks softly “Is there anything or anyone we should be worried about?” 

You shake your head, give him a satisfied smile that seems to pull the ground from under him. “No, not anymore.”

He opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out. He feels lightheaded, unsure of where he stands. You tilt your head slightly, then jump when Collins comes out. He realizes now that the crying stopped. 

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but can we have a word?”

Your face falls. It makes him irrationally mad, wants to twist the world around until you’re smiling again. He doesn’t move.

“What’s wrong? Is it serious?”

Collins puts her hand on your hand in an effort to comfort you, shaking her head. He glares at her hand like it personally offended him. “Nothing serious, it seems like she just had an allergic reaction to formula. Could you tell me which one she's taking?”

It’s almost like he vanishes into thin air as soon as there’s something related to the baby anywhere near you. You turn around, back to him while you pull up a picture in your phone and show it to Heather. She nods and smiles, letting you know it’s nothing too bad. He notices your entire body relaxing, and the tips of his ears turn red. 

“So what should I do at home now?”

The anxiety you exude makes him tense, almost angry. He’s bothered by not being able to get an actual look at the situation, relegated to talking to you only and away from what seems to be the center of your universe. He takes a deep breath to try and push out the uncomfortable feeling of uselessness.

“We would like to keep her here, at least for today just to keep an eye on how she reacts with different formulas, and maybe give her some fluids in case she’s dehydrated.” Heather’s voice is tender, gentle in a way he’s not sure he could manage now, not after so many years of hoping it would help and seeing it turn people into aggressive maniacs. 

But you just nod, pocketing your phone before turning back to look at him again and knocking the air out of his lungs. 

He's sure he's earned his year in Hell when faint excitement blooms as he realizes you'll be around for a few hours. He doesn't understand what's happening, why he's acting like a teenage boy with a crush or a fresh student handling his first case with an attractive person. Fuck. Fuck.

“Can you make sure the people from other shifts respect what I ask?”

He’s already mentally preparing his speech for Jack. “Of course. And I’ll see if we can keep you here along with your baby, just to be safe.” 

You beam at him, and once again, he feels like the Earth tilts under him. “Thank you, doctor Robby.”

He notices Dana staring at him from inside the room, grinning.

Oh, he’s absolutely fucked.

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

AO3