#meredith murmurs

[kiwriteswords]

If we're talking angst with Aaron Hotchner, I feel like a miscarriage would do good to break his heart (if you're comfortable writing such a heavy topic, of course!)

No words appear before me in the aftermath [Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader]

Masterlist || Ao3||Word Count: 1k|| AN: Well, this took an emotional toll! Sort of inspired by the scene in Grey's Anatomy with Meredith Grey! Also, peep the new 'taglist' banner! I really like how it turned out!

Tags/Warnings: miscarriage, pregnancy, angst, blood, traumatic event, canon typical events, canon typical themes, canon typical language, BAU team member reader, established relationship, hurt/comfort, concerned Derek, concerned, Spencer, concerned Rossi

Summary: "Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye. You were bigger than the whole sky. You were more than just a short time. I've got a lot to pine about. I've got a lot to live without. I'm never gonna meet, what could've been, would've been, what should've been you."

In the muted light, the BAU team maneuvered through the abandoned warehouse, their breaths visible in the chill air. Aaron Hotchner led with the precision of a seasoned commander, his eyes scanning for danger; his heart, however, remained anchored to you. 

His partner in every sense. 

Despite being married for some time now, the thrill of working alongside you never waned. The team admired your synergy, the seamless dance of mutual respect, and whispered strategies. You bettered each other and for that? The team was grateful. 

As gunfire erupted, chaos threaded through the precision. Aaron commanded, "Cover! Now!" 

His voice was the calm in the storm, but his gaze instinctively sought you out. You moved with practiced ease, though your face was pale.

The exchange of bullets echoed a grim symphony. Spencer and Derek flanked you, moving as one unit. But as the final shot silenced the night, halting the unsub, a different, sharper silence fell over you. 

Clutching your side, you staggered slightly, the color drained from your face not just from exertion but from pain--a deep, gnawing pain that didn't come from any bullet. Your knees felt weak; a sour taste filled your mouth. 

The physical manifestation of your emotional turmoil was evident in your trembling hands and the way your body seemed to sag under the weight of the news. 

"Derek, check her!" Spencer's voice cracked through the tension, his youthful face lined with worry.

Derek approached, his brow furrowed. "You're bleeding... a lot. Were you hit?" His question hung heavy in the cold air.

You shook your head, moisture glossing your eyes, not from the icy wind but from a storm within. "No, I... it's not that."

Across the warehouse, Aaron knelt beside the subdued unsub, his duty momentarily anchoring him to the spot. But his eyes were locked on you, sensing the distress in Derek's tone. The local PD was moving in, ready to take over, allowing Aaron the space to be not just a unit chief but a concerned husband. His responsibilities as a leader momentarily set aside, he moved towards you, his focus narrowing to the palpable tension surrounding you.

As Aaron approached, he noticed the stark contrast of the blood against your clothing, and his heart skipped a beat. The scene around him: the flashing lights, the murmur of the police radios, all faded into a blur. 

Only you and your pain remained sharply in focus.

Always keenly observant, Rossi stepped in, his voice gentle yet urgent. "What’s going on?" he asked, looking from you to Aaron, sensing the shift in the air.

The question was too much. The weight of the secret you harbored now bled out in more ways than one. "Stop," you whispered, the single word a dam against your breaking heart. Your eyes met Aaron’s, and in them, he read a thousand chapters of a story you hadn’t yet told him. Miscarriage. The word stood unspoken, a ghost between you. The pain of loss, the fear of the unknown, and the struggle to communicate it all, hung heavy in the air.

You turned away, a lone figure against the backdrop of flashing police lights, walking away from the puddles that mirrored your desolation. Aaron stood frozen, his instincts as a unit chief battling his instincts as a husband. The words to command, to comfort, eluded him.

Seeing Aaron's hesitation, Rossi placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Aaron, she needs you now more than the team does." His voice was low, filled with understanding and a somber recognition of the personal stakes involved.

Spencer, who had hung back, now stepped forward, his voice hesitant but firm. "She wasn't ready to tell us, Hotch. Maybe... m-maybe she wasn't ready to tell anyone yet?" 

Derek, still close by, looked between you and Aaron, regret coloring his tone. "Hotch, I’m sorry, I didn’t know she was..." His voice trailed off, unsure of how much had been understood, how much had been shared.

"Neither did I." Aaron's voice broke, a rare crack in his armor. He hadn’t known about the baby, about the hope you had nurtured silently. Now, all he could see was the future unspooling, threads of joy unraveled into grief. His internal conflict, torn between his role as a leader and his desire to comfort you, was palpable.

The team huddled in a tableau of shared sorrow, the strong men of the BAU grappling with a pain they couldn’t shield you from. As you distanced yourself, the space between you and Aaron felt like miles. He wanted to chase after you, to erase the hurt, but his feet were rooted, his role uncertain, his heart heavy with the shared pain.

He finally found you in the women’s bathroom at the local precinct, the tiles and walls reflecting a cold he couldn’t shake Locking the door behind him, he stood inside. 

You were at the sink, changed from your original clothes into one he recognized as back up from your go-bag. 

Your hands mechanically scrubbing under the relentless stream of water, each motion a futile attempt to cleanse away the tragedy that had stained the day. Stained this chapter in your life.

Water pooled around the drain tinged with a heartbreak that soap couldn’t wash away. 

Your focus was laser-sharp on the pink-tinted water, a cruel reminder of the life that was slipping away from you. Aaron paused at the door, the sight of you grappling alone with your pain tightening his chest.

“Let’s take a minute,” he said gently, his voice a soft contrast to the harsh fluorescent lighting. His words seemed to hover in the humid air, too heavy to immediately absorb.

You didn’t look up, your hands moving to your stained clothes, spot-cleaning the blood that had marked it. The fabric absorbed your focus, your fingers scrubbing rhythmically.

It was a task, something you could control when everything else seemed to unravel. 

“I need to get more jeans for my go-bag,” You said as if it was just an item on your to-do list. As if there wasn’t a life-altering moment happening right before your very eyes.

Aaron moved closer, his reflection ghosting beside yours in the mirror, a shared image of both solidarity and separation. “You don’t have to do this right now,” he murmured, reaching a tentative hand toward your shoulder.

The contact startled you, a lifeline you hadn’t realized you were waiting for. Your eyes met his in the mirror--windows fogged with unshed tears. 

“I need to clean this up,” you insisted, your voice as thin as the paper towels you now snatched up, blotting the damp clothes.

He watched the deliberate way you avoided your reflection, focusing only on the stains you could fight. “You’re not alone in this,” Aaron assured you, his tone threaded with the promise to hold together the pieces of a shared dream that had shattered silently.

The paper towels piled up. Crimson. “I was going to tell you…I wanted to tell you…,” you finally admitted, the words spilling out like the water you couldn’t stop. “A-After the case...”

The confession hung between you, a delicate truth that now lay bare in the most unforgiving of lights. 

Aaron reached for your hands, stilling them. “Let’s just sit for a moment. Together,” he suggested, guiding you away from the sink, away from the relentless reminder of loss.

You allowed him to lead you to a small bench in the corner, the cold of the tile seeping through your clothes, a stark contrast to the warmth of his hand covering yours. Side by side, you sat in a silence that spoke volumes, your breaths syncing in a slow, shared cadence.

Aaron looked at you, really looked. 

Not as a unit chief or a husband seeking to fix things but as a partner sharing in the rawness of the moment. 

“We don’t have to go back out there today,” he said softly, an anchor in the fluidity of grief.

You leaned into him, your head resting against his shoulder. The fight to stay composed ebbing away. 

In the quiet of that sterile space, you found a haven, a shared solitude that didn’t push for answers or action, just presence. He’d always had this effect on you. 

“We both wanted this so much." Your voice just above a whisper. 

Aaron nodded, his cheek resting atop your head. "I know," he murmured. His heart ached with the weight of lost futures. "We wanted it," he repeated, his voice thick with emotion, acknowledging not only the pain of the loss but the depth of the shared desire that had been growing between you.

In the reflection of the darkened mirror, the two of you sat, a poignant picture of what strength truly looked like, not in the avoidance of pain but in the willingness to face it. 

Tag List: @zaddyhotch @estragos @todorokishoe24 @looking1016  @khxna @rousethemouse @averyhotchner @reidfile @bernelflo @lover-of-books-and-tea @frickin-bats @sleepysongbirdsings @justyourusualash @person-005 @iyskgd @hiireadstuff @kcch-ns @alexxavicry

[taintedcigs]

— morning routine (modern!s.h. x reader)

pairing: modern!steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: basically, that scene in greys anatomy where meredith snores and keeps waking up derek but instead of them it's reader who just moved in with steve. (and robin duh) idk how to explain it but i tried to give it a spin idk if i succeeded. this is just FLUFFY AND cheesy. and tbh its only modern!steve cuz i added one (1) stupid twilight joke. SUE ME OK!!!!

warnings: just pure fluff. domestic!steve. tooth-rottingly sweet. cheesy af. some kissing. does snoring count idk. steve is an adorable idiot. also makes a dirty joke bc he is immature (and so am i.) kissing. idk. allude to smut but nothing described at all. not proof-read ignore all mistakes cuz i wrote this mess in like 20 mins and cant read it back cuz i cant do it without criticizng everything so im just gonna post okkkkiii bye hope u guys enjoy it (wc: 1.3k+)

⠀ ͟ ͟ㅤㅤ♥︎ㅤ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ͟ㅤㅤ♥︎ㅤ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ㅤ⠀ ͟ ͟ㅤㅤ♥︎ㅤ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ㅤ⠀ ͟ ͟ㅤㅤ♥︎ㅤ

It hadn't been that long since you’d settled into Steve and Robin’s place. You’d initially been nervous about it, about whether everything would work out or not.

But soon enough, things were already starting to fall into place—especially in the mornings.

A perfect routine.

The illuminating rays of sunshine would seep through the cracks in the blinds, glowing the cozy room you and Steve now called yours. And the overwhelming aroma of the coffee Robin always brewed too early, signaling to you that it was time to wake up.

You stirred slightly, mind slowly drifting out of the haze of sleep until you noticed something—rather someone in your periphery.

Eyes fluttering open, you squinted against the soft light, and you were instantly met with Steve’s warm gaze at you, his head propped on one hand as he lay beside you.

“Steve! What the hell?” you exclaimed, groggily shoving his shoulder with a laugh. “Are you watching me sleep, you creep?”

Steve’s lips curled into a lazy, boyish grin, one that you couldn’t resist smiling back at. “Mmhmm,” he murmured, not even bothering to deny it.

“What are you? Edward Cullen?” you teased.

That earns a good chuckle out of him, eyes crinkling at the corners before he mumbles out a “Mornin', honey.”

He leans down to press a soft kiss to your velvety lips before pulling back to gawk at you again, cheeks dimpling adorably.

A giggle bubbles up from your chest as you swat at him, though your heart squeezes.

The most dreamy.

“How did you wake up before the alarm?” you ask, voice still thick with sleep.

Steve shrugs, grin never faltering. “I’m a light sleeper.”

“Something woke you up?”

When he doesn't answer, “What?” you press, brows furrowing.

He chuckles, shaking his head. “’S no big deal,” he assures, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “It’s just that...” He pauses, biting his lip to hold back a grin.

“You just... snore.... a little bit.” He squints, pinching his thumb and forefinger together.

You shot upright in bed. “What? I do not!” you protest.

“Yes, you do,” Steve says, grin widening as he clearly enjoys your reaction.

“Nuh-uh!”

“Uh-huh!” he counters back.

“Honestly, it’s adorable that such a tiny person can make such a big sound.”

You gasp, “Jerk!” Swatting at him when he leans in for a kiss. He laughs, dodging your swipe, smile as infuriating as it was endearing.

“You know what’s not adorable?” you shot back. “Those little twitches you do every night!”

Steve blinks, protesting quickly. “I don't do that!”

“Yes you do!” you exclaimed, poking a finger into his chest playfully. “You’re like a human earthquake. It’s scary, Harrington!”

He lets out a dramatic gasp, clutching his chest. And before you can say another word, Steve pounces, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his hold. Fingers tickling your sides mercilessly, sending you into fits of laughter as you squirm to escape.

“Stop it! Steve!” you manage to get out between giggles, your attempts to push him away weak from how hard you were laughing.

⠀ ͟ ͟ㅤㅤ♥︎ㅤ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ͟ㅤㅤ♥︎ㅤ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ㅤ⠀ ͟ ͟ㅤㅤ♥︎ㅤ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ㅤ⠀ ͟ ͟ㅤㅤ♥︎ㅤ

Determined to make it up to him, you wore one of those nasal strips every night, for the following week. Convinced it was solving the problem.

Until you wake up, suddenly, and way before your alarm.

And even way before Robin's coffee. To find Steve's spot empty next to you.

Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you slip out of bed, padding down the hall, curiosity tugging at you.

And of course, there he is, sprawled across the couch. Legs awkwardly dangling over the edge, one arm thrown over his eyes.

Idiot. You could feel a gentle warmth spreading all over your body.

This absolutely selfless, adorable idiot.

“You have got to be kidding me,” your exclaiming voice startles him awake, making him groan groggily.

“You slept on the couch?” You ask, guilt bubbling in your chest. 

Steve hums sleepily, clearly not awake enough to form a coherent response.

“All night?” That poor boy. 

He murmurs something incomprehensible, eyes squeezing shut like he could will himself back to sleep.

“Are those stupid strips not working?” You asked frustratedly, and Steve was quick to shook his head, the motion muffled by his pillow. 

You let out a sigh, narrowing your gaze at him, “If my snoring was always this bad, what the hell were you doing all those other nights?”

Before Steve can answer, Robin emerges from her room, hair a tangled mess and expression groggy. “He usually sleeps on the couch,” she hums, slowly slipping past you to the bathroom. “Sets an alarm and sneaks back into bed before you wake up.”

You blink, processing her words as your head slowly turns toward Steve. He’s sitting up now, looking thoroughly sheepish.

“I didn’t want to hurt your feelings,” he says softly, tone so endearing that it tugs violently at your heartstrings.

And that’s the thing about Steve, isn’t it? 

Always putting you first. Always thinking of you. 

You stare at him for a moment, dramatic theatrics melt into something warmer. A smile tugs at your lips, growing wider until you can’t contain it anymore. Walking over to the couch, you kneel beside him as he looks up at you innocently.

Without a word, you throw your arms around him as you begin to smother his face with kisses, one after another, until he was laughing too.

“You’re ridiculous,” you mutter between kisses, voice filled with affection. “Sweet, but so goddamn ridiculous.”

Steve grins, hands sliding down to hold your waist comfortably. “You know I’d do anythin' for my girl,” he replies, tone thick with sleep and laced with that infamous Harrington charm that makes your heart flutter.

“But, I swear, Harrington,” you warn, pulling back just enough to meet his warm gaze, “if you ever sleep on this couch again, I’m tying you to the bed.”

His brows shot up, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “Oh! I’ve always wanted to try that one!” he teases.

You scoff playfully before adding, “And I’m getting you earplugs!”

Before you can say anything else, Steve suddenly tugs you closer, pulling you onto the couch with him. “C’mere,” he murmurs, voice low and tender. Plush lips pressing kisses all over your face—forehead, cheeks, lips, the tip of your nose—as he rambles sweet nothings in between, each one making your heart swell a little more.

“I love you,” he whispers, words melting into your skin like a promise. 

You can’t help but giggle softly, threading your fingers through his messy hair, “Love you more, you idiot.” 

Steve grins, fingers brushing off a stray strand of hair away from your face. “So…” He trails off, tone turning sly, brows arching in anticipation, “...about that tying up thing?”

You smirk, rolling off of him as you rise to your feet. He doesn’t let his gaze leave yours, chest rising with a sharp breath as he watches your figure. 

Without a word, you saunter out of the living room, hips swaying just enough to leave him frozen in place, staring after you like a statue.

At the doorway, you glance over your shoulder to meet his dumbfounded expression. “Well,” you hum with a sly grin, “are you coming or not?”

His jaw practically drops. “C’mon, pretty boy,” you tease, tone dropping into a sultry hum that makes his eyes darken. “You’ve been really, really bad, and the punishment isn’t gonna be pretty.”

His breath catches, utterly frozen. Then, as if the exhaustion he’d been feeling moments ago has been completely erased, he springs from the couch with a groan. “God, you’re fucking perfect, you know that, right?” he mutters, all with awe and hunger as he reaches you.

Before you can react, he sweeps you up into his arms with an eagerness that makes you squeal. “Steve!” you gasp, laughing as he rushes you toward the bedroom like a man on mission.

Finally, the perfect morning routine. 

[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 22 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Now that Bradley has you with him, he never wants you to go. But the stress from Meredith and Penny still hangs between the two of you. And the only think that seems to make sense to Bradley could be taken from him.

Warnings: Angst, swearing, smut, fluff, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4800 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more!

You were finally in Bradley's arms. Aside from your hangover and banged up knee, you seemed no worse for the wear. Just a little shaken up from those assholes taunting you last night. As he leaned back against his headboard, you were curled up against his chest wearing his favorite sweatshirt. 

"I love you," he whispered again, rubbing the bare skin of your back and waist beneath the sweatshirt. You hadn't returned the sentiment, but it didn't matter. You just snuggled a little closer to him every time he said it to you. 

When your stomach growled, you looked up at him and laughed softly. "Come on," he said, kissing your forehead as he withdrew his hand from your soft skin. "I'll make you breakfast."

Now you were looking at him with concern as you straddled his thighs. "You'll make me breakfast? Sorry, but I'm not going to eat anything you cook."

Bradley tipped his head back and started laughing. "You got me there, Princess. But I can get you a bowl of cereal."

You just shook your head and slid off of his lap, taking his hand in yours. "I'll make you breakfast," you told him, looking back at him over your shoulder as he followed you down the hallway. He'd follow you anywhere today. Do anything you wanted to do. As long as you kept him with you.

He turned on the coffee maker and pulled two mugs down as you bent in front of the refrigerator. Your bare legs and his oversized sweatshirt made him feel weak. You handed him some eggs and the gallon jug of milk. "Do you have cinnamon?" you asked as he set the milk and eggs on the counter. 

"You don't actually have to make me breakfast," he whispered as you kissed his chin. 

"I'm hungry for French toast," you told him, so he located the cinnamon for you. Then he watched you work, helping with everything you asked him to. And when the kitchen smelled like cinnamon, and there were slices of bread sizzling on the stovetop, Bradley handed you a mug of coffee. 

"Can you help me with something on my phone?" he asked softly, wrapping his arms around you from behind as you sipped your coffee and flipped a piece of bread. 

You set down the mug that said Aviators Look Down on Others and glared at him over your shoulder. "If you ask me to delete another dating app, I will rage. Do you understand me?"

"It's not that," he promised.

"Well, then what can I help you with, old man?"

Bradley couldn't help but smile at your words as he ran his mustache along the side of your neck. "Help me change this." He tapped on your contact name which was still listed as Babysitter. He deleted that word as he let his chin rest on your shoulder, making sure you were looking at his phone. Then he typed out My Princess before he opened his photo gallery. 

"It doesn't look like you need my help," you whispered as he scrolled through all of his pictures of you and Noah and the occasional one related to something at work. "Oh wait, yes you do," you said, pointing to the dirty pictures you had sent him. "You need to save those in a private folder, Daddy."

He was beyond delighted that you had just called him Daddy. "That's something else you can help me with," he murmured, scrolling further until he found the first selfie you sent to him. The one where you were wearing your purple crown. He set it at your contact photo and kissed your cheek

"Give me that," you told him after you flipped the pieces of French toast again. He handed you his phone and watched you move all the dirty photos he loved so much into a new folder that you labeled Princess. "And you can enter the passcode when you want to look at them," you said as you saved today's date as the four digit code.

"Why did you make it today's date?" he asked as you spun to face him and pressed his phone to his chest. He grabbed it as you let go and wrapped your arms around his neck. You kissed him hard, devouring his mouth as you sighed softly. Bradley tossed his phone onto the counter next to the mugs and let his hands slide up your sides beneath his soft sweatshirt. 

"Because," you told him between kisses, running your fingers up into his hair and looking him in the eye. "Today's the day you told me you love me."

"Baby," he moaned against your lips, reaching behind you to turn off the stove burners. 

You kept your body snug against his, even when you let your hands trail down to the bottom of his undershirt and whispered, "Daddy."

You peeled his shirt off, finally letting him feel your hands everywhere. "Please. Let me take you back to bed." He had never been intimate with you there, but he'd been dreaming about it for a long time. Hell, last night was the first time you and he had a real sleepover. The first time he got to hold you all night.

Immediately you started pushing him toward the hallway, and he hoisted you up into his arms as you squeaked. "I got you," he promised.

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

There had to be something wrong with you, because you couldn't physically stop smiling. Bradley had taken you to his bed, set you down gently right in the middle of it, and started kissing you everywhere. His sweatshirt was pushed up to your breasts, his big hands squeezing your sides while he kissed the spot just below your belly button.

You were panting softly, and you could tell how wet you were by the way your lace underwear clung to you. But he seemed to be in no hurry, so you just let him keep it up. Lips and mustache found your injured knee, and he kissed all around the bandage before gently guiding your leg over his shoulder. 

"I've been dreaming about this," he whispered against your inner thigh. When his fingers teased along the elastic of your underwear, you thought he was going to remove them, but he just kept driving you crazy instead. 

A soft laugh bubbled out of your lips. "You dreamed about rescuing me from frat boys and having your way with me?"

"No," he grunted, easing his large body over yours, while you kept your leg on his shoulder. You could feel his hard cock rub your core through both of your underwear, and you pressed up against him. "I dream about having you in my bed. Having you all to myself. Don't get me wrong, I love sharing you with Noah," he mumbled, pushing the sweatshirt up and palming your tits with his massive hands. "But when you're like this, you're all mine."

As your back arched off the bed, Bradley's lips met your nipple, kissing and caressing you like nobody else ever had. "Daddy," you whispered before your eyes fluttered closed. 

"All mine," he muttered, licking the valley between your breasts before sucking on one nipple and then the other.

You cried out for him, your hands grabbing at his biceps and shoulders before threading through his messy curls. 

"You're so fucking sensitive, Princess."

You definitely were for him. Because he knew how to touch you. He knew how to love you. He was good at all of it. 

"Bradley?" you gasped after he had worked your nipples into tender peaks. He whispered your name, the bristles of his mustache rubbing you just right. You were clenching around nothing. He hadn't even undressed you yet. And now you were in trouble, because he could tell how far gone you were as he whispered your name over and over again.

You rubbed yourself up against his cock as he pressed his lips to your ear and moaned, "I love you, Princess. I love you."

There was little doubt in your mind that you could cum for him just like this. He loved you. And you loved him.

You were soaking wet as he slipped his hand inside your underwear and groaned. "You make me insane," he informed you gruffly, wasting no time before slipping his middle finger inside you. 

"Bradley!" you cried as he stroked your clit with his thumb and fucked you with one, thick digit until you were propping yourself up on your elbows to get to his lips. You kissed him, and he devoured every noise you made. "I'm so close, Daddy." When you let your head tip back, his mouth found your breasts again. You were close to overstimulation as he removed his finger from inside you and rubbed his fingertips across your clit until you were nearly crying. 

It took you a second to realize that your legs were shaking as he sucked on your breasts. You were about to cum as soft grunts mixed with your deep, erratic breathing. "Oh," you gasped, and then he was mashing his lips to yours, pushing you back against the pillow. "I'm coming," you whined into his mouth. 

Then you were shaking everywhere, his fingers slowing down and applying less pressure until you moaned his name so loudly, you should have been embarrassed. Your panties were absolutely soaked, and it felt like you were laying in a puddle as Bradley tapped your clit with his fingertips. 

When you met his eyes and saw the desire there, you knew what had happened. "Did I squirt again?" you asked softly as you caught your breath. Bradley brought his damp hand up to his own mouth and licked his palm before running his index finger along your lips. 

"You did," he whispered, letting you kitten lick his fingers. You tasted good on his warm skin, and you were no longer embarrassed. Because he looked so turned on right now. You could see his cock straining against the fabric of his underwear, could feel him pulsing against you. When you sucked two of his fingers into your mouth, he started bucking against you, and you looked up at him.

"Don't look at me like that," he rasped, pushing them a little further into your mouth. "You already know you own me."

You moaned around his fingers before he pulled them free and kissed you. Then his sweatshirt was on the floor along with your soaking wet underwear. You watched the graceful way he removed his own underwear as you sat up. 

"Come here," you commanded, and he did as he was told, kissing you and wrapping his arms around you. You told him where to touch you, and he did. You told him everything you wanted, and he did that too. You were already a mess again as his thigh rubbed your core. Already whimpering his name.

"You gonna let me make love to you, Princess?" he asked, spreading your legs a little wider and coaxing you flat on your back. 

"Yes," you whispered when you felt him at your entrance. 

"A little louder," he said, pressing against you with delicious pressure.

"Yes!"

He was steady and meticulous, sure that you liked everything he was doing before he went a little harder. He checked in with you until you could barely answer him, because everything felt too good. Your fingers were digging into his biceps as your lips skimmed along his neck, licking at the salty sheen on his skin. He was chanting your name like a prayer as he moved with such precision, you weren't sure you'd ever be able to orgasm without him again.

Bradley was loving your body with his. He chased your lips for more kisses every time you needed to take a breath. His rough hands were so sure of what you needed as he touched you seemingly everywhere. And interspersed among the sweet sound of your name, he told you he loved you. He used his voice like a tool in tandem with his perfect body until you were squeezing his cock tight.

You felt wrung out and exhausted, barely able to control yourself as your fingers went loose on his arms. You sunk back in the bed, keening for him as your orgasm washed over and through you. And then you watched him, neck straining as his strokes grew shorter and more irregular. You pulled his mouth to yours as he came for you. He tasted so good as he let his hand gently grip the back of your neck, his thumb stroking your jaw. 

"I love you," he breathed against your lips. His voice sounded as broken as you felt as he collapsed mostly on top of you. You held him close with your hands in his hair, and his cock still buried inside you.

"I love you, Daddy."

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

Bradley smiled the whole time you and he argued about doing laundry. You were adamant that he wash your underwear along with the bedding, but he kept telling you he liked the way they looked on his bedroom floor too much to do that. 

Finally you scooped them up and said, "I'm sure if you really want to, we can soak them again," and then took them and his bedding into your arms. "It's not like you don't know how to make me squirt."

Then he watched you parade out of his room, your naked backside swaying beautifully as you went. He just stood there and exhaled as he ran his hands through his hair. He was certain he had the dumbest look on his face. 

You loved him.

"Good thing I like cold French toast," you said with a laugh as he sat down completely naked on one of the kitchen chairs. You were also naked, plating some breakfast which was definitely becoming lunch. 

"I like anything you cook," he mumbled, eyes glued to every inch of your body as you turned and set down a plate in front of him along with maple syrup and two glasses of orange juice. "Mind grabbing my phone?" he asked, watching as you picked it up from where he discarded it earlier. 

"Here you go, old man," you said quite loudly. "Can you hear me? Do you remember your pass codes? Or do you need a refresher?"

"You know, I have a bag of Skittles for you, but I think I'll just eat all of them," he said, pulling you down onto his lap and opening up a playlist on his phone. 

"You would never," you gasped. Bradley was laughing, but you actually seemed scandalized.

"No, I wouldn't," he promised, kissing your shoulder as you settled back against him. He played his favorite song, the one that reminded him of you while you cut up the French toast and drenched it in syrup. 

Bradley watched you lick some syrup from your fingertip as you said, "I made a playlist for Noah. A bunch of kid friendly songs. He loved it." You took a bite of food and turned to smile at him while you chewed. 

"That was sweet of you," he rasped as you fed him a bite. "He's crazy about you." Bradley thought back to Noah crying and saying he wanted you to be his mommy. 

"I love him," you said simply, taking another bite of French toast while Bradley wrapped his hands around your waist and caressed your soft skin. 

And it didn't take long until the food was eaten and you were straddling his lap on the chair. You were cradling his hard cock against your pussy while you kissed his neck and dragged your purple fingernails down his chest and along his abs.

"Feels good," he groaned, trying to sit still and enjoy everything you were doing to him. You looked gorgeous everywhere. Every tilt of your head and brush of your lips against his skin had all of his senses screaming for more. When you finally lifted your hips up and let him slip inside you, he was so far gone. You rode him so well with your arms around his neck and your fingers trailing through his hair.

"Oh," you gasped, eyes fluttering closed as you rubbed your clit against his abs. 

"You're so good, Baby," he promised, one hand guiding your hip and the other tracing your nipples. You were a dream. Everything he wanted. Perfect for him. Perfect for Noah. 

You leaned closer and kissed his lips, getting louder with each stroke of your clit against him. And soon you were whining his name and pulling his hair. He filled you with his cum that dripped all over the chair and coated your thighs when you stood. 

He just looked at you there, standing between his splayed thighs with your hands on his shoulders. "I never want to stop being with you," he mumbled, and you leaned down to kiss him.

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

You were a little embarrassed to admit to Bradley that when you got out of the shower, you wanted to take an afternoon nap. After you spent a few minutes picking on him for being old and drinking fiber in his tea with lunch, you yawned so long and loud that he led you to the living room. You were in his soft UVA sweatshirt again, and you stretched out on the couch with your head on his lap. 

The last few days had been wild. You vowed that you were never going to speak to Greyson or his friends again. No more college boys in any way, shape or form. Nobody but Bradley. 

He was currently drawing tiny circles along your neck with his fingertips. You yawned again before you whispered, "You know, I probably shouldn't even be here right now."

He just hummed in response, so you asked, "Where are things at with Meredith? Still scheduled for Wednesday?"

But Bradley was silent for a moment before he said, "I don't want you to have to worry about her. I'm doing enough worrying for all three of us. But yes, Wednesday. Unless Tracy calls and tells me otherwise."

"I'm still going to worry, Daddy. But I'm also going to support you. Noah needs to be with you. He needs his dad who took care of him and loves him. He needs to stay with you."

But those little circles on your neck and his rough fingertips had you drifting off to sleep, and you sensed that was what he wanted. He seemed reluctant to let you be consumed by this. So you slept for a few hours on his warm thigh, only stirring when you really needed to go to the bathroom. He hadn't moved at all, but his hand was resting on your bare hip, and he was watching sports highlights on mute on the TV with the captions turned on.

"Baby," he murmured when you popped your head up and turned to look at him. So handsome. You climbed onto his lap and rested your head against his shoulder. He kissed your forehead and told you, "Penny's bringing Noah back in about an hour."

Your heart soared. That would give you enough time to cook something for him for dinner, and then you could play with him a bit before his bedtime. Before you had to leave. And then your heart sank, because you didn't want to go home. And you didn't want to see Penny. You were still so upset about what happened when Bradley got blindsided by Helen.

"I'll be back," you whispered, standing and heading for the bathroom. You took a few minutes to yourself. There was too much going on. And you thought that if you could sort everything out without Bradley distracting you with his hands and his lips you could make more sense of things. 

You wanted to be here when Penny dropped Noah off. You didn't want to hide what was going on. You wanted to stay and have dinner with your boys. You deserved that much. 

You wanted to help Bradley with Meredith. If there was some way you could aid in court or help him prepare, you wanted to do that. He deserved that much. And Noah deserved everything. 

You sighed and washed your hands, and when you opened the door, Bradley was standing there. "I just remade the bed, and I'd love to spend some time snuggling with you." 

You went with him and curled up against his huge body. He held you close and asked, "When is your graduation? I need to make sure Noah and I can be there."

The first thing that popped into your mind was the scary thought that maybe Bradley wouldn't be the one making plans for his son much longer, but you squashed it immediately. "I'll add it to your phone calendar since I assume you're too old to figure out how to do that," you replied, kissing the tip of his nose. 

He smirked and squeezed your butt so that you were smiling. "I appreciate that, distressingly young girlfriend."

You gasped. "Is that what I am? I thought you said no titles."

"You're my girlfriend," he said with a nod. "Just deal with it, okay? It's been only you for a while now. Your crown lives on my bedpost. I haven't had any other partners. Noah and I are in love with you. You're my girlfriend. My Princess."

You couldn't stop the smile from taking over your face. "Technically I'm Noah's Princess, too."

He sighed and studied your face. "I'm hoping you'll be more than that someday. Now let me put some real clothing on before Penny gets here." With a kiss to your cheek, Bradley grunted and climbed out of bed. You watched his body as he pulled on a US Navy tee shirt and a pair of gray sweatpants. 

"Okay, what are you doing?" you asked, crawling across the bed toward him.

He gave you a funny look. "Getting...dressed?"

"No." You pulled him closer by the drawstring on his pants. "As your girlfriend, I'm telling you that you can't wear gray sweatpants around anyone except me. Or like maybe your doctor or something. Because even with underwear, I can see the outline of your dick. It's delicious looking, but no, Daddy."

He blushed. He actually blushed. And you smirked as he yanked them back off again and tossed them at your face. "You wear them, then." You laughed as he pulled on some jeans, complaining the entire time. Then you got out of bed and stepped into his sweatpants. You were sure you looked ridiculous in his too large sweatpants and sweatshirt, but you had nothing else to wear, so you rolled the pants at the waist. 

And then the doorbell rang. And now you actually weren't sure that Bradley would want Penny to see you here. You were about to ask him if that was the case, but he took you by the hand. 

"Noah is going to be so excited that I didn't completely fuck things up with you." He pulled you down the hallway and toward the front door, and before you knew it, Noah and Penny were right in front of you. When he saw you, his face lit up, and he started trying to wiggle out of Penny's arms. 

"Princess!"

You scooped him up as Penny laughed and handed Bradley a bag. "Here's some artwork that we made today. Plus some dirty laundry. We had so much fun making macaroni art with Amelia."

She smiled at you. She didn't look surprised to see you at all as you hugged Noah and kissed his round cheek. 

"Thanks, Pen," Bradley mumbled, digging through the bag. 

"No need to thank me," she replied, wringing her hands nervously now. "I owe you an apology." She was talking to you. Your eyes went a little wide. "I didn't know the two of you were together. If I had known, I would have never tried to set Bradley up. I really shouldn't have done it anyway," she added softly. 

You turned to look up at Bradley. "You told her about us?"

"Yes," he replied, slipping his arm around your shoulders and kissing his son on the head. "Of course I did."

"I should have known, honestly," Penny said, looking at Bradley with a smile. "By the way he said he wasn't using the dating app. And how he seemed calmer. More grounded."

Your cheeks felt warm as you pressed your lips together. "Do you want to stay for dinner?" you asked. "I'm making spaghetti."

"Spaghetti!" Noah cheered, but Penny shook her head. "I need to pick Amelia up from her friend's house. But thank you." And then she was kissing Bradley's cheek and closing the door as she left.

You were alone with your boys. This was all you'd been dreaming about recently. Noah's arms were around your neck, and Bradley was guiding you toward the kitchen, and you had tears in your eyes. 

"I love you," Noah whispered, and then you started crying. 

"I love you, too, sweet Noah."

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

Bradley watched you tuck Noah into bed. You looked so good in his clothing and in his house. You looked perfect when you were with his son. He needed this to be his everyday life. 

You joined him in the hallway and whispered, "I'll get an Uber to take me home if you don't mind me borrowing your clothes."

"Stay," he replied softly. "Please, stay."

You bit your lip and started to slowly shake your head. "Tomorrow is Monday. You have work. I should go to campus and start on my job applications and final few assignments."

"You can do that from here. Use my computer. Please, stay."

You hummed softly. He would be more than happy to beg you not to leave, but you took him by the hand and kissed his wrist. "Okay. I'll stay. Leave me your computer and charger."

Then you turned toward his bedroom, pulling his sweatshirt over your head as you went. "Are you coming?" you asked him over your shoulder. He could see the silhouette of your peaked nipple in the dimly lit space, and he tripped along after you. 

"I'm coming, Baby," he rasped, and your soft giggle as you climbed into his bed had him reaching for you. The room was dark, and his eyes hadn't adjusted yet, but your voice alone was making him hard.

"Come get me, Daddy."

He grunted and slipped his hand down the front of the sweatpants, and you gasped. He took his time. He made sure you were reacting just the way he wanted you to. And when he had you close, he asked, "Does anyone else make you feel as good as Daddy does?"

Your moan was so loud in the silent house that he had to cover your mouth with his. "No," you panted. "No." 

Then he flipped you over onto your knees and yanked the sweatpants down. "Good girl," he whispered, burying his face in your pussy from behind. 

"Daddy," you whined, and Bradley had to push your face down to the pillow to keep you quiet. With your ass in the air, he finished you off as you gushed a bit for him. 

"Fucking hell," he growled as he lapped at your pussy and unzipped his jeans, pulling himself free. With one clean movement, he was buried deep, bottoming out inside you. "Soaking wet." His face was tipped back, staring at the ceiling, trying to keep his composure. 

"Daddy!" you whined, bumping back against him harder, and that was it.

"Not too loud, Baby," he warned, wrapping one hand over your mouth and planting one hand on the bed. He pressed himself against your back and whispered in your ear, "You want Daddy to be sweet or rough?"

"Rough," you whimpered against his fingers before he shoved them in your mouth and slammed into you until he was seeing stars. You were a whimpering mess as Bradley filled you over and over again, and then he came so hard, he was afraid he was going to hurt you. But you seemed fine as he collapsed on top of your back. 

"You okay?" he asked, panting like he'd just run five miles. 

"Yes," you gasped softly. "So good."

"Will you let me fuck you like a sweet princess tomorrow?" 

You moaned softly. "Whenever you want."

He kissed along your neck and grunted. "Daddy needs a good night's sleep, Baby. Tomorrow."

And not ten minutes later, Bradley was sound asleep as you ran your fingers along his chest and told him you loved him. He never wanted you to leave.

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

Bradley is always in a much better headspace when he's with his little family. Don't worry, Meredith is on deck! Hope you enjoy your fic, @beyondthesefourwalls And thank you @mak-32 !

PART 23

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@swthxrry

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@chaoticassidy

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@marantha

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@little-wiseone

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@xoxabs88xox

[undercovercameron]

stamina

summary: you have a tiny bit of an issue that can only be resolved through intercourse. no, really.

notes: hello everybody i have returned after a month and a half and this one just simply popped into my head today! i would say i have no idea why but ive been watching clips of the other zoey on tiktok and they’ve corrupted me… cabin in the woods with drew starkey? till the walls crumble. features: choking kink, explicit language, degradation, oral sex (f receiving), masturbation, and generally rough sex. enjoy my darlings

tags: rafe cameron x fem!reader

word count: 2859

You don’t know exactly when it started, but your little problem had become a real nuisance.

You just know the first time it happened, however long ago, made Rafe Cameron finally fall in love with you. Hey, it took months of him fighting with himself about you and struggling with a multitude of other family issues, but the day did finally come. It was glorious, you remember that. But this long repeated issue was kind of impeding your sex life. Well, it was affecting your sex life that actually had been affecting your sleep and caffeine and food patterns. It was a big ole circle. You even had been feeling faint due to the excessive cardio.

The issue wasn’t as much an issue as it was one of Rafe’s favorite things about you, turns out. And he wasn’t afraid to show it. Well, make you show it.

You two had dozed on the couch for a little more than an hour, your head pressed to his shoulder and your body curled around the side of his. He had an arm caging you to him, fingers splayed across the curve of your abdomen. Turns out, some documentary his younger sister recommended wasn’t as interesting as you two thought.

The TV makes a loud beeping noise, and Rafe jerks awake at the intrusion. His hand not pressed to your (now exposed) stomach rubs at his eyes, blinking rapidly. Christ. It’s late.

The fire beneath your TV crackles, and he can feel the slight warmth from it on his cheeks.

This was his Aunt Meredith’s house, and she was letting the two of you stay in it for a little while as a makeshift fall break. You’d slept three nights so far in this big wooden mansion, but you could hardly say you felt rested. You always were taking futile catch-up naps throughout the day in front of this lovely fireplace.

Rafe’s movement makes you phase into consciousness, eyes coming into focus as your ears adjust too.

“Hey, baby,” he murmurs, stretching both his hands up above his head. The hem of his shirt lifts, just a little taste. You blink at him. “What?” His face splits into a grin and his eyes close as his muscles flex and relax.

“You know what.” Your lips twitch and you look teasingly up at him.

“Mm, I don’t think I know what you mean.” His hand brushes the hair from the side of your face not facing him, and he pulls away slightly to thumb at your chin. “Could you explain?”

“No,” you sigh, pulling yourself up slightly with a hand pressed to the seat cushions. Your leg curls once again around one of his as you turn towards him. You relax against the back cushions, eyes on his face. “No.” Your eyebrows raise, challenging.

“I don’t think you want me to have to make you explain,” he mutters, sliding down to a little above your eye level. His eyes stay on yours.

“I don’t think you could if you wanted to.” Your eyes snap back to the TV, pulling your legs away from his. “I’m trying to watch this.” You grab the remote from the ottoman and turn it up. Rafe just watches you earnestly.

You're about sixty long seconds into “watching the documentary” with your feet up until you feel Rafe’s breath on you. His lips meet your forehead, ghosting a kiss to your skin, before sliding down to your temple. You try your best to remain focused. But his opposite hand from you (always his hand) slides up your waist to settle near your collarbone, fingers lightly pressing into your shoulder. His lips migrate to your jaw, and then your neck. You fight a shiver.

You feel yourself tilting your head around to satisfy this position, eyes falling closed briefly before snapping back open. You grip his wrist.

“Rafe,” you say, but what you thought was confident just sounds weak.

He hums, mouth pressing to your neck and getting into dangerous hickey territory, and your eyes just close. It feels so good, this man leaving you breathless and pliant. It makes you so weak.

“You know you want to,” Rafe murmurs, eyes moving up to your face, and he relishes in your intake of breath.

Your fingers find his jaw and cheek and you pull his mouth up to yours, finally kissing him like you need. He makes a noise into your mouth, triumphant, and his hands grip your hips tightly. He moves you, sliding you onto the long part of the L sofa, and follows you with his forehead pressed to yours and his lips so close but so far. You pant up into him.

He slides further between your legs, parting them with a hand behind your knee, and you let out a content sigh when you feel the weight of him. The weight of that.

His hand finds your throat and then he’s leaning over you, hips pressed to yours and kissing away your sounds softly. His hips rock forward into where the seam of your sweatpants is, and your moan is swallowed. You grip tight on the hand on your neck, squeezing your eyes tight. It shouldn’t feel this good, this quick.

You cant your hips up into his, sloppily matching his rhythm, and your cheeks flush when your heart beats heavily in your throat. His mouth parts from yours and slides wetly down to your upper chest, the neck of your slightly cropped sweatshirt pushed away. You just gasp above him, hips picking up. The slide of his pants is so perfect on your clit, and you feel your blood pumps at the place he squeezes you around your middle.

You recognize what he’s doing, now. His fingers press into your abdomen, pushing it up and down and up and down, and you push your hand on top of your mouth to muffle the embarrassing cries you’re letting out.

His head raises from your collarbone, lips wet and pink, and he tugs your wrist down.

“I need to hear you, baby.” And then he’s pulling back to shove your sweatpants off of you and to the floor between the couch and the ottoman. He dips back down, mouth and hand insistent upon you, and he digs a hand into the crotch of your underwear. Your hands flail for a moment, useless, and settle on gripping his shoulder and the arm that pins you to the cushions.

“Rafe,” you sputter, head pushing hard back against the cushions. Your hair is messy and probably tangled with this friction, but you don’t have even half a thought to care. “Please, Rafe, don’t stop.” Your back arches, trying to push your body tight against his. He tries not to grin above you, watching your face contort at his touch. His fingers slide in your slickness, an embarrassing amount, and your throat catches a breath. The tension in your abdomen twists.

“I thought you wanted to watch the show, sweetheart.” Two of his fingertips push past your slit easily and curl. He bites his lip above you, loving the look on your face. You squeeze your eyes even harder, fist clenching in his shirt. Your heart beats louder and louder until—

“And we’re going to practice your stamina, too.” His voice is raspy when he pulls away.

There it is. The issue. Your not-so-issue-but-sorta-an-issue issue. Yes. You had been having trouble—well, stopping. Your libido was extremely high, you had a very sexy man at your disposal who liked to please you, you were confident in your body, so why not?

Why not is because your body was sore constantly. Between your legs was the perfect amount of sore, but still sore. You had trouble sleeping and drank more coffee and energy drinks. Rafe, ever the giver, obliged you always. He liked to fuck. He really liked to fuck you. So it was a terrible, terrible cycle. You were really starting to wonder about your self control. So it makes sense that maybe you should consider working on it.

But Rafe deciding that right now? The second he finally fingers you? It makes your head spin.

Literally, as when you sit up your vision is flooded with spots.

“What the fuck?” You croak, sounding miserable, and your eyes look up at him, almost teary. (Hey— you really like what he does to you.)

“You’re fine, baby, you’re fine. I just want what’s best for you.” He pulls away from your neck, instead smoothing a hand from your sternum to your hips.

“What are you, a fucking counselor?” You grump, eyebrows furrowed, and he just rolls his eyes.

“Better start being grateful, Y/N. You know how I get.”

He settles onto his stomach, keeping your legs loose around him as he bends to kiss you. You kiss back, still annoyed but also still wildly turned on, and you can’t help but curl a hand around his neck and up into his hair. His lips part from yours and start their trek downwards.

His hands push your sweatshirt up when he gets to right above your belly button, and his touch is light on your sensitive skin. You close your eyes in the nice feeling.

His fingers curl around where your thigh meets your ass, pressing tight into the muscle, and you reflexively lift them up and settle them down onto his shoulders. Sneaky. His mouth finds your inner thighs then, biting into the flesh, and you successfully fight a shiver. His breath is hot on the crotch of your panties.

His fingers find the hem of the fabric, eyes settling briefly on yours before tugging your panties to the side and getting his mouth on you.

You immediately moan— figures. You push your head up slightly, wanting to see, and his head shakes between your legs, hair tickling your thighs as you whine. So hot it should be illegal.

One of Rafe’s hands crawls up your flesh to your chest, fingers finding the underside of your tit and cupping it. He squeezes right as his tongue curls into your seam and he shakes his head again. You nearly shriek but slap.a hand over your mouth, no punishment in your future with his hand on your tit and the other gripping your outer thigh.

Well, you were wrong for the second time tonight. First, thinking your loving boyfriend would give you an orgasm when you wanted one, and second when you assume the same very boyfriend wouldn’t do things simply to piss you off or edge you. Rafe reaches up with the hand previously on your thigh and grabs your wrist. He snags the other one and presses them tight against your lower abdomen, eyes fiery. Your blood surges hot in your veins and the tension in your abdomen resurfaces.

You just flex your legs and bring them further up, wanting your seemingly increasingly distant misery to end.

He hums in approval at that, the feeling making your pelvis vibrate; and you try desperately to suck in a breath. It feels so good, you don’t know how to last longer. Your head slowly tilts to the side, a little tired, and your glazed eyes meet the TV screen again.

Your third folly. Thinking Rafe Cameron would let you live any mistake down.

“Oh, you wanna watch it now?” He pulls away, spitting at your pussy, and an eyebrow quirks. You just still, not sure of the direction here. “Okay. Watch it.” He licks you once, twice, and pulls away slowly. You turn your head, wanting to gauge his reaction, but he pushes your head back towards the TV with his hand. You see in your peripheral him pushing down the waistband of his pants. Your eyes flinch ever so slightly towards him, and he smacks lightly at your outer thigh.

“Watch it, since you wanted to so bad.” He pulls his dick out from his underwear and spits into his hand. His gaze is locked on your pink face, waiting for you to react. He moves his hand tantalizingly slowly, knowing you can see the movement. You pant, catching your breath, and he just watches your chest heave.

His heart rate catches when he gets the full sight of you, open and wide in front of him with dirty panties and your sweatshirt rucked up to expose your bare chest. It makes him even harder.

“What are they talking about right now?” His eyes bore into the side of your face, hand moving steadily still.

“Uh-h, whales.” Your voice cracks and you swallow. He doesn’t laugh like you think he will, he just bends down and kisses the corner of your mouth.

“Doing so good.” It’s so quiet you think you miss it. He kisses you full on when you tilt up to him, neck straining at the angle.

He finally, finally pushes his weight onto you, dick pressed tight against your pelvis. You meet his mouth again and groan at the feeling, moving your body in a way you hope feels good. His jaw clenches, which is a good sign.

“You do it, you want it so bad,” he murmurs, lips hovering over your cheek bone. “Since you can’t ever have enough, baby.”

You exhale through your nose, concentrating, and push your hand down. You fumble for a second but eventually get your hips angled in a way to where he can sink into you. He does, pushing against your hips, and slides easily all the way to the hilt.

He groans openly, eyes closed for a moment, and you choke on a moan. So deep, so fast that it steals the breath from your throat.

On second thought, Rafe’s hand finds its place on your throat as the other braces against your hip.

“So wet,” he says through his apparent awe, bottom lip drooping slightly. You revel in the look on his face. He’s all pink and dewy, it makes you sweat. He pushes forward, a bruising strength in his hips, and you feel yourself be pushed up an inch on the couch.

He follows you and lowers himself slightly, keeping you in place as he jerks sloppily into you, overwhelmed by sensation. You curl your leg around his waist, fingers interwoven in his hair as he dips to kiss you. He pants into your mouth, hot and demanding. You just arch your back, feeling him squeeze hard at the flesh of your waist as you clench around him.

You do it again, loving the reaction, and bite your lip as he chokes slightly in surprise. His hips slow, the sounds of your hurried panting slowing as well, but he goes twice as hard. With the intent to bruise, you think. Probably. He would love that.

His eyebrow arches slightly before he’s burying his face in your neck and really giving you his all. You feel the muscles flex on his back where you press your hands, mouth open and wide and silent. Your eyes roll back into your head as he lets go of your neck and fixes his grasp on your hip.

“Rafe,” you gasp, barely getting a comprehensible sound out. “Yes, shit, baby.” Your man, finally treating you so well.

“Let me hear you,” he says, hot in your ear, and reaches down to rub that one spot he’s memorized the location of. He’s a little too familiar, as we know.

You inhale and exhale shakily, and then you’re silent and your head is pushing back into the cushions. Your body floods with feeling, from the tip of your toes to the top of your head. Your toes curl. You feel like you’re floating.

It’s on the come down that you moan shakily and it turns into a bashful laugh.

“Fuck,” you whine, and his thrust turns into his last as he buries himself up to the hilt and groans in a staccato. You feel him catch your shoulder slightly as he bites the cushion, muscles slowing.

“Fuck.” He desperately tries to catch his breath. He peels himself slightly from you, sitting up.

His vision comes back into focus, and it’s then that he notices the marks on your neck. He thumbs an especially red one, eyes scanning your face.

“Oops.”

“You’re an idiot.” But you smile.

“Hey, we traded,” he says, pulling away completely from you and standing up with a stumble. He winces as he pushes his shoulder blades to meet.

“How’s that?” You ask, thinking you’re humoring him. You sit up, bringing your now cold and damp panties back to where they should lie and pulling your shirt down. You’re just realizing how cold it is in here.

“My back hurts like a bitch, and you have hickeys. Plus I didn’t let you cum so we practiced that. Boom.” He gestures wildly and lets his hands smack back down to his sides. You just stare at him.

“You are the weirdest motivational coach I’ve ever met, young man.”

“Don’t call me a young man.” He turns towards the primary bedroom you’d been sleeping in and disappears into the darkness. “I fuck like I’m 35.”

[eeerrrrewsd]

Crowded Spaces

He’s lowkey my dirty little secret crush

George O’Malley x Reader

“I take it your dates didn’t go well?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

Izzie flopped onto her back dramatically. “Mine talked about his ex the entire time. Like, full-on emotional monologue. I think he was five seconds away from asking me for relationship advice.”

Meredith groaned, face buried in George’s pillow. “Mine called me Meredith Grey every time he spoke to me. Full name. Every time. It was like dating an automated voicemail.”

George winced. “That’s… horrifying.”

“Yeah, so now we’re claiming your bed for comfort,” Izzie declared, patting the mattress.

George sighed. He should’ve expected this. His bed had basically become their emotional support mattress.

Then there was a knock at the door.

He turned just in time to see you step inside, looking equally exhausted.

“Let me guess,” he said. “Bad date?”

You sighed. “He took me to a steakhouse and got offended when I ordered a salad. Then he told me I should ‘live a little’ and tried to feed me off his fork. When I said no, he pouted for the rest of the date.”

Izzie made a gagging noise. “Men are so embarrassing.”

You crossed your arms, scanning the room. “Is there any space left?”

Izzie and Meredith glanced at each other, then at the bed, where they had effectively sprawled across all of it.

You sighed. “Guess I’ll just go—”

George didn’t even think before he spoke.

“You can lay on me.”

The words hung in the air.

Your eyes met his, brows lifting slightly in surprise.

“I mean,” he stammered, ears burning, “only if you want to! No pressure. I just—there’s not a lot of room, and, um, I don’t mind, so…”

Meredith let out a muffled snort into the pillow. Izzie smirked.

You hesitated for only a second before shrugging. “Fine by me.”

Before George could process that, you were climbing onto the bed, shifting to settle right on top of him.

His brain short-circuited.

You were warm. And soft. And your head rested against his chest in a way that made his heart pound hard enough that you had to feel it.

“You’re comfy,” you murmured, adjusting slightly.

George made an embarrassingly high-pitched sound in response.

Izzie and Meredith giggled.

He cleared his throat, forcing himself to stay normal. “Uh. Good. Glad to be of service.”

Silence settled over the room, the three of you lying there in a comfortable pile.

And if George was maybe hyper-aware of every breath you took, or the way your fingers idly traced the hem of his shirt—well, that was his secret.

For now.

[dawnoftime22]

a sleepy movie night.

| T.S

Warnings: None! not...proofread?

Summary: The evening was coming to an end, while you had your favorite blonde giving you affection, even as your consciousness grew drowsy during a movie night.

Word Count: 692

Category: fluff<3

| Started on 01/09/2024, 12:09 PM |

| Finished on 08/03/2025, 5:21 PM |

Main Masterlist | T.S Masterlist

Request Guidelines

“Fall asleep beside me all you want.”

|——————————— ⸆⸉ ———————————|

It was quiet. It was peaceful. The evening was seeping through the slips of the orange sunset as the clouds drifted away.

A yawn was starting to softly escape your lips, and you use her chest to hide the sight of your mouth opening. A smile raises on her lips, and she was looking down to see just how much your eyes were growing drowsy.

You can feel her hand going up to the small of your back, holding you close to her as you kept yourself comfortable in her lap. The TV was playing a movie, one that you two were enjoying.

But when another minute goes by, you eventually let your eyelids fall to a close. Taylor had her eyes on the screen before she realizes you're half awake.

The blonde carefully leans down, her lips brushing your ear. "Sleeping now, huh?" she whispers, her voice soft and quiet as she runs her hand up your back.

You smile and open one of your eyes, trying to stifle a small laugh before you snuggle closer to her in her lap. "Mmm..." was all that left your throat as you lightly nuzzle into her.

She giggles herself, but doesn't mind it, pulling you closer to cuddle more. All you felt in your heart was a fuzzy, warm feeling.

You stayed like that just for a few moments, but then you took a deep breath in to soon turn your face out from her neck, seeing the movie as your cheek rested against her.

Taylor watches you, moving a strand of hair away from your face. You were clearly trying to stay awake and watch the movie, but a soft huff with a smile escapes her body.

Another yawn escapes your mouth. You couldn't be bothered to hide it anymore, although still trying to watch the scenes playing out.

"It's okay, sweetheart...we can continue tomorrow..." she murmurs, cupping your hand to turn your face back to her.

You search her eyes. Of course, there was nothing but love and care there, but your mind was trying to find the pieces of disappointment and doubt.

"But..." you managed to say, although she rests her forehead against yours in a manner of quieting your protest. "Shhh..."

Taylor kisses your lips for a short moment, pulling you closer again. Her eyes gazed into yours before she went to rest her chin on top of your head.

"Just go to sleep...we'll have time to continue some other day...okay?" she reasons, knowing the amount of tiredness your body had built up, whether you've been doing mundane tasks, productivity, or just your mind being present, rest was still needed.

You smiled at her insistence, and felt some movements as she picked up the tv remote, quieting down the volume for a more peaceful atmosphere.

"...Mh...love you..." she heard your voice murmur. There was no helping the urge to close your eyes, with the tiredness you felt within them.

Her hands settle back around to your back, one in your hair, and she gave a kiss down to your head. "Love you, too."

You decided on returning it back, letting your lips meet the skin of her neck, before nuzzling again.

She held you closely, soothing your mind and body with the slow motions of her hands. The cats were napping below on the carpet, although Meredith was beside both of you on the couch, purring.

Not much time passes by until your breathing had soon turned soft, and your heart rate steady within the drifting of sleep.

Her heart felt content, and she chooses to instead turn off the TV completely, leaving only the purring kitten beside her making sound.

The slow exhale she breathed made contact with your hair, and she could just about see every strand from how close she was to you.

She stayed with her cheek resting against your head, one hand on your back, and one hand gently drifting away to Meredith's fur, feeling the calming vibrations of the cat's purr as she closes her eyes.

The three of you were asleep peacefully on the couch within minutes.

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

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[loafysainz]

the parent trap (remake) | CS 55

cast: carlos sainz x fem!reader

warn: 100% fiction & remake

next chap

Part 11 The Bomb Dropped

Carlos ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in every motion as he called out once more, “MATHEO!” His voice echoed into the distance, but it was futile—his son was already too far to hear him. With a resigned sigh, he turned back toward the house, only to meet Chessy's piercing gaze through the kitchen window.

Carlos narrowed his eyes. “Don’t look at me like that… I don’t know anything,” Chessy muttered flatly before pulling the curtains shut, leaving Carlos to grimace and trying to endure the growing ache in his head.

“Where on earth did he get the idea I was going to adopt her?” Carlos growled softly, the words more for himself than anyone else. A loud, familiar car horn snapped him out of his thoughts. He turned toward the terrace just as Meredith’s unmistakable red BMW pulled into the driveway.

Carlos waved half-heartedly before slumping into a nearby chair, his exhaustion apparent. It didn’t take long for Meredith to bound over, sunglasses perched casually on her face. Without hesitation, she slipped them off, revealing a mischievous smile that could disarm anyone.

“Hi, honey. How are you?” Meredith asked, her tone light and teasing as she perched herself on Carlos’s lap like it was second nature.

Carlos shot her a deadpan look. “Should I answer that?”

Meredith raised an eyebrow, clearly unbothered. “Bad mood? I know what’ll fix that. Whiskey?”

Carlos sighed, closing his eyes in surrender. “Double, please.”

Grinning like she’d just won a prize, Meredith dug into her bag, taking a small red box with an ornate bell inside. Carlos blinked, confusion crossing his face as Meredith rang the bell with theatrical flair.

“Chess! Chess… Chessy! This is what the house needed!” Meredith declared, the bell ringing obnoxiously loud.

Carlos pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Excuse me?” chessy appeared moments later, looking less than thrilled at the sound. He glanced between the bell, Meredith’s gleeful expression, and Carlos’s tired face.

“Chessy, could you bring us some whiskey? For Carlitos—make it a double, please,” Meredith said, smiling innocently.

Chessy gave Carlos a look that screamed, ‘You’ve got to be kidding me.’ Carlos, however, just gave her the most pitiful, pleading expression.

“Mercy, Chess. I’ve already got a migraine,” Carlos murmured.

With a reluctant nod, Chessy disappeared into the house, leaving Carlos and Meredith alone. Meredith leaned forward, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “So, have you told him yet?”

Carlos groaned, his shoulders slumping further under the weight of the question. “Yes, I already told him.”

Meredith’s eyes lit up like Christmas morning. “And… what did he say?”

Carlos threw his hands up in despair. “He lost it! He even started speaking French. French! I didn’t even know Matheo could speak another language. Dios mío, I don’t know what’s wrong with that kid.”

Sliding off Carlos’s lap, Meredith moved behind him and began kneading his tense shoulders. “Let me talk to him, strongman,” she said softly, her lips brushing against Carlos’s ear.

Carlos shook his head, still unconvinced. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, honey. He’s… not in the mood.”

Meredith chuckled, unfazed. “Please, you’ve got to have a step-mom and son conversation sometime. Let me handle it.”

Carlos frowned, clearly skeptical. Meredith, however, was already halfway out the door when she paused, turning back with a sly smirk. “Oh, before I go, I like your shirt better unbuttoned.” She deftly undid the first two buttons of Carlos’s shirt, running his fingers lightly over the fabric. “I like the hair on your chest,” she added with a wink before striding away.

****

The news of the engagement was still fresh, and it sat like a giant elephant in Mattia brain. Sitting on the old wooden swing set in the backyard, the air between them was tense, charged with unspoken thoughts. Meredith, dressed impeccably as usual, approached with her signature smile that was equal parts charm and condescension.

She knocked lightly on the metal frame of the swing, the sound echoing in the quiet garden. "Knock, knock," she said playfully, her tone dripping with forced sweetness as she perched on the swing beside him.

The younger boy, arms crossed and gaze firmly fixed on the ground, didn’t bother looking up. “The news of the engagement was kind of a shock, huh?” Meredith said, breaking the silence with a practiced air of nonchalance.

“Basically,” came the short reply, his voice low but firm. He kicked at the dirt, clearly uninterested in making this conversation easier for Meredith.

“You know,” Meredith began, leaning back on the swing as if she were talking to an old friend, “I remember what it was like to be nine. Such a wonderful age. You’re just starting to feel like a man. And, believe it or not, soon you’ll understand what it’s like to be in love.”

Mattia scoffed, finally glancing up at Meredith with a raised brow. “Me? I don’t think so. I don’t even have my molars yet.”

Meredith let out a soft laugh, the kind that felt more patronizing than genuine. “Well, take it from someone who got their molars early in life—being in love is a fantastic mystery. It’s magical, really. It takes a man and a woman and—”

Mattia cut her off with a sharp look. “I don’t mean to be rude or anything while you’re trying to get all mushy, but I already know what mystery my dad sees in you.”

Meredith blinked, caught off guard for a split second before regaining her composure. “Oh, you do, do you?” she said, her voice now slightly more clipped.

“Yeah.” Mattia’s leaned forward, his tone casual but his words deliberate. “You’re young, you’re beautiful, and you’re, well, sexy. And hey, the man only human.”

For a moment, Meredith looked genuinely pleased, even flattered, but then Mattia continued, “But if you ask me, marriage is supposed to be about more than just sex, right?”

Meredith’s smile faltered, her lips thinning slightly. “Boy, your father seriously underestimates you,” she said, shaking her head. “But don’t think for a second that I do, sweetheart.”

Mattia tilted his head, his expression unreadable. “Being young and beautiful isn’t a crime, you know,” Meredith continued, her voice now smooth and confident again. “And for your information, I adore your father. He’s exactly the kind of man I’ve always planned on marrying. This is the real deal, honey. And nothing you do is going to come between us.”

Mattia narrowed his eyes. “Hate to break it to you, Angel, but you’re not the only love in Carlos Sainz life anymore. Get over it.”

“If this is the real deal,”Mattia said, his voice steady, “then my dad’s money has absolutely nothing to do with you wanting to marry him, right?”

Meredith’s jaw tightened for the briefest moment before she leaned forward, her eyes cold. “Okay, let’s cut the act. You listen, and you listen good,” she hissed, her tone no longer sugar-coated. “I am marrying your father in two weeks, whether you like it or not. So I suggest you don’t tangle with me anymore. You’re in way over your head. Is that clear?”

Mattia stared at her, unflinching. “Crystal.”

Meredith straightened up, smoothing the invisible wrinkles in her designer dress. “Good. Glad we’re on the same page,” she said with a tight smile before standing up and striding back toward the house.

Mattia stayed on the swing, his grip tightening on the chains. His eyes followed Meredith’s retreating figure, and a small, determined smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He wasn’t backing down that easily.

prev chap

[taylorsgfz]

Insomnia ♡

— taylor x gf !

summary: taylor suffers from a terrible insomnia and takes the opportunity to write a song about her girlfriend.

That Taylor Swift suffered terribly with insomnias wasn't news to anyone, not even for her most recent fans.

Usually, her insomnias reflected in miserably unhappy thoughts or in new songs for her albums. At that moment, laying next to you - who were sleeping peacefully - Taylor could only smile.

— This happens once every few lifetimes. — the blondie whispered and took her hand to your face to gently caress you.

And as most of her songs emerged, her sentence was the motto for a musical idea. That and the sudden urge to write about her girlfriend.

Taylor kissed your forehead while you were still sound asleep and got up. Benjamin, that was sleeping in your bed aswell, also got up to follow Taylor downstairs.

Olivia jumped from the couch hearing Taylor come down and Meredith lifted her head but was sleeping again in the next second.

The blondie went to the music room in her home and sat on the pouf with her guitar and her notebook on her lap.

She started to write the line she whispered to your ear minutes before and added some rhythm. The lyrics came up in her head and she would ocasionally get up to get to the kitchen and eat or drink something.

You eventually woke up in your room after not feeling Taylor's warmth beside you. You rubbed your eyes a little and yawned a few times before you could make yourself get up to check on your girlfriend.

Meredith got up when she saw you and started to ask for cuddles. Taylor felt a little jealous that Meredith clearly prefered you over her but she couldn't judge the kitty.

— Tay? — you called her when you didn't see any lights on.

Taylor didn't answer but after some efforts, you could hear the guitar playing in the sound proof music room. So you just followed the music while holding Meredith in your arms.

— Hey, babe. — Taylor smiled when she heard you.

— Did I wake you up? — she asked and tapped her lap a few times after dropping the guitar on the floor.

You and Meredith went to sit on her lap then.

— No no, I just can no longer sleep without feeling you by my side. And then I got worried so I wanted to check if everything was okay.

— Everything's fine, babe, I just couldn't sleep for the life of me and I had an idea for a song. — Taylor pointed at her notebook laying on the floor.

You grabbed the notebook and read the loose lyrics that were written. You were still a little sleepy to be able to interpret exactly what Taylor meant but you had no more doubts that song was about you when you read "'Cause the sign on your heart said it's still reserved for me, honestly who are we to fight the alchemy?".

— Hey, this is about me! — you proclaimed smiling and Taylor just laughed. Then, she planted a little kiss on your lips.

— Do you wanna hear how it sounds?

— Why are you asking? — you left Taylor's lap and put Meredith down. You sat beside her on the floor to hear her sing.

Taylor sang what she had wrote. Of course the final product would be slightly different but that was the sketch. You were quite emotional hearing your girlfriend sing about you with so much passion.

— How does it sound to you? — Taylor asked a little frightened.

You answered by grabbing Taylor's face to kiss her for a hot while. And then you just hugged her.

— I love you. — you murmured.

— I love you too, my love.

THANK YOU FOR READING ♡

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Greys Anatomy AU-- Lillian at Seattle Grace Pt 1

Perhaps Lillian and the chief were classmates or something, because they go way back, and it's evident to everyone that he's pulling out all the stops to try and engage her interest in Seattle Grace.

Inevitably, Lena starts getting the kind of attention she hates.

Her fellow interns suddenly start speculating that maybe she didn't earn her spot in the program as organically as everyone else. Lexie doesn't join in the ribbing, but she doesn't stop it either. Lena doesn't engage past the occasional searing glare at the interns as she excuses herself from eqch exchange, and makes no effort to defend herself.

Until one night after a particularly bad day of challenging patients, aggravating interns, and dodging her mother, Lena storms over to Meredith's with a stack of files in her arms. Meredith takes one look before tilting her head towards the kitchen, where Lexie is munching on a late night snack.

Lena smacks the stack down on the table in front of Lexie, who stares first at the files, then up at Lena. "What is this?"

"My records," Lena clips with a glare. "Every transcript, every internship and letter of recommendation. From secondary to undergrad to med school. I thought you might want to see them, since you don't seem to believe I earned my spot."

Lexie gives an appeasing, exculpatory grimace. "I didn't say that--"

"You haven't defended me either!"

Never in all the time since they've met, has Lena raised her voice. Shock jolts through Lexie at the sound of it, before her guilt does its best to deflect.

"I didn't think you cared what they thought," Lexie points out.

"I don't!" Lena shouts. Lexie gapes at the outburst, causing Lena to scoff. "Fuck those guys!"

That rankles Lexie. "Then why are you here??"

"Because I care what *you* think!"

The silence that follows sits thick between them. Lexie stares, shrinking a little in her seat, chastised. Lena deflates.

"I care what my girlfriend thinks," Lena echoes, softly now. "Because I love you, and... the thought of you thinking any less of me--"

"I don't," Lexie blurts, rising sharply from her chair. She rounds the end of the table between them, but stops short of reaching for Lena, when Lena pulls away.

"I *don't*," she says again, more fervently. She waves towards the stack of folders. "And I don't need those to tell me how brilliant and amazing you are. I already know."

Lena's lips tremble in spite of herself. "Then why?"

"I don't know," Lexie confesses quietly. "I think I was hurt. That you didn't tell me." She looks at Lena beseechingly. "It's kinda the sort of thing you'd tell your girlfriend, isn't it? That your mom is a super genius surgeon?"

A muscle twitches in Lena's jaw, but she doesn't respond.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Lena folds her arms defensively across her chest, plainly uncomfortable. Lexie almost expects her leave, but to her surprise, Lena responds.

"The day I took my oath as a doctor," she says in a low voice, "I looked into the audience, and didn't recognize a single face."

Shame and pity fill Lexie's chest. "She wasn't there?"

Lena shakes her head. "That was the day I went low contact with my mother.... which turned into no contact, when she didn't even notice that I'd stopped calling."

Her voice cracks on the last word, and Lexie can't help but reach for Lena. Lena finally allows the tender touch of Lexie's palm against her cheek. She leans into the contact, as a tear slips from the corner of one eye.

"I don't know why she's here, or what game she intends to play," Lena murmurs. "But whatever it is, I want you in my corner."

Lexie exhales, stepping close enough for their foreheads to rest together.

"I am," she vows. "Always."

[itsloriel]

Stormy Seas and Starling Murmuration by Kevin Meredith

[cooperkxight]

"I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable."

Meredith’s brushed Galleth’s shoulder in her soft murmur. She missed the touch, being touched, heat against her body, and with Andrew sounding sleeping, she initiated. A modest nightgown that hugged her form, a collar deliberately placed to reveal her naked shoulder.

"I want your company this night, if you’ll have me."

Galleth's breath hitched in his throat as Meredith sat beside him, her closeness to his form shrouded only by the appearance of more skin and the presence of the revealing looking nightwear.

His ear flicked at the offer, the tips red and heated to match the flush on his cheeks and the fur across his body that stood upright.

His fists clenched on his lap, almost AFRAID to touch her in return. The last thing he wanted was for her to feel as though he was using her, using her to shield the pain of loneliness that he too suffered.

".... My... Company?" He breathed out, his eyes wandering back up from her bosom and to her eyes. It perhaps sounded like he needed her to elaborate, but she needn't, he knew exactly what she meant. But perhaps what he needed more was reassurance.

[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 36 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley is finally happy, and he knows it's because of you. The way you want to try new things with him in bed makes him feel wild. And the way you love his son makes him feel calm. But when you read a piece of mail before he's ready for you to see it, your reaction has him feeling something new.

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, smut, anal sex, butt plug, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4800 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

Bradley anxiously awaited for his appointment with Tracy to begin. He wasn't sure if it was a good sign or a bad sign that she asked him to stop by on his way home from work, but he was here now. And he had his checkbook with him. 

"I owe you some money," he said when she finally called him back.

"Sure, but we have other things to talk about," she said, ushering him over to her conference table while she opened up a Red Bull.

His stomach lurched. "It is about Meredith? Is it bad?" He was finally starting to be able to enjoy every day he spent with you and Noah. He didn't have to worry about things constantly, because you were happy to help him with his son and his house. When he got home with Noah the other day, you were changing that lightbulb on the front porch that he'd been meaning to get to. And you kept trying to help him pay his mortgage. 

"Yes, it's about Meredith. Just have a seat."

Bradley sat and looked at her expectantly. "Has she been released or something? Do I need to call my girl?"

"No, no," she said, waving him off as she took a sip. "She's been sentenced."

Now Bradley's heart was really pounding. Tracy had told him that Meredith would most likely get five to fifteen years for the fraud charges. Five would be devastating, simply because Noah would still be a minor when she was released. Fifteen would be ideal. Noah would be over eighteen and a legal adult. A fight for custody or money would be a moot point. And well, if Bradley had another child with you, that would have nothing legally to do with his ex at all. 

"Please tell me this is good, Tracy. I just want to solidify my life right now exactly as it is. No more messing around with protective orders and broken windows. My kid is happy, and I am happy."

She smiled and said, "You're about to get even happier. Fifteen years." 

Bradley was out of his seat with his fist in the air immediately. "Hell yes! Any chance at parole?" he asked. 

"There's always a chance. We'll keep an eye on things." 

She and he talked for a bit after that, and he felt his body ease back comfortably in the seat. Bradley wrote out a check and left it with Tracy, and then she handed him a folder full of information on adopting a stepchild in California. And a second folder with a preliminary copy of his updated will.

When he got home with his checkbook in his hand, he found you and Noah in the kitchen, and both of you were wearing more peanut butter than the carrots on the cutting board in front of you were. But you were laughing, and so was he, and the house smelled like dinner was cooking.

"I'm home," Bradley said from the kitchen doorway, and you spun in surprise. 

"Hi, Daddy," you said as you rushed for him with your messy hands held out at your sides. "You're already done with Tracy?"

"Mmhmm," Bradley hummed, leaning down to kiss you as Noah brought him ants on a log. "Fifteen years," he murmured, and you leaned in for another kiss with a soft, pleased laugh. 

"Really?"

"We can talk more later," he said, keeping one arm around your waist as he lifted Noah up and opened his mouth for the messy carrot stick. He kissed Noah while he chewed and then said, "Thanks, Bub. Did you have a good day?"

"Yeah. We did a puppet show," he said before squirming out of Bradley's arm to go make a bigger mess. And that left Bradley holding you and his checkbook. 

"Casey asked me to say hi to you when I picked Noah up," you whispered with a little grin on your face as you reached for the checkbook. "I told her I would if my mouth wasn't otherwise engaged this evening."

Bradley snorted. "You didn't."

"I did," you confirmed, waving his checkbook in the air between two fingers before tossing it onto the counter. "Who are you writing checks to, old man? I already told you, everyone uses payment apps."

"Tracy," he said. "I'm pretty sure she's older than me."

"Nobody is older than you, Daddy," you whispered, and Bradley took your wrists and guided both of your hands to his mouth. He watched your lips part silently as he licked the healed scar on your palm before sucking your thumb into his mouth. You squeaked as he cleaned the peanut butter from each of your fingers individually as you stepped a little closer to him. 

"Who you calling old?" he asked before kissing your palm and squeezing your hip. He made a show of switching to the other hand as you rubbed your core against the front of his pants. Your eyes rolled back as you moaned for him. "Shh," he scolded. "Behave." 

But you were only wearing thin scrub pants, and Bradley didn't actually want you to behave. One glance at Noah proved that he was absorbed with emptying a large canister of raisins onto the counter, so Bradley finished with your hand and then palmed both of your butt cheeks at the same time. He squeezed, really enjoying the feel of you as he whispered, "Are you wearing it?"

"No," you gasped. "I just got home from work!"

Bradley shrugged. "You've been wearing it around the past few days. Here and there."

You glanced at Noah over your shoulder before you whispered, "It makes me horny. I can't wear it to work! I'll get fired!"

Bradley chuckled and then he tightened his grip on your ass and said, "Go put it in."

Your teeth immediately sank into your lip. "Now?"

"Yeah," he replied softly. "Like my good girl."

You scampered off to the bedroom, saying, "Take the casserole out of the oven," as you went.

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

You knew to take your time with your silicone plug now. Use lots of lube and relax. As soon as you finished inserting it, you were practically moaning for Bradley to put his cock in your pussy. You were kind of addicted to the way it felt when he and the toy were both inside you at the same time. With a few deep breaths, you eased your underwear and your scrub pants back up your legs and made your way back to the kitchen. 

Bradley and Noah were sitting at the table with the casserole dish, and when you met your boyfriend's eyes, he was grinning. "Well?" he asked, reaching for your hand. 

"You know it, Daddy," you replied, and even though you weren't trying to, your voice took on a needy edge. 

He grunted softly, his eyes half lidded now as he patted the chair next to him. Noah was already eating his dinner, and thankfully he didn't seem to notice the way Bradley was looking at you like you were for dessert. You eased yourself onto the seat and whimpered softly as Bradley leaned in and pressed the softest, sweetest kiss to your lips. 

"I love you, Baby," he murmured before brushing your cheek with his nose. "I can't wait to take you to the lake house next weekend. We'll pack your little toy."

He started kissing along your neck, and you didn't think you'd make it through dinner at this rate. Your nipples were hard, and he was barely even touching you. Desperate for a distraction, you tried to reach for the casserole without rolling your hips too much.

"Daddy?" Noah asked. "Can we get a dog?"

"A dog?" Bradley asked, his attention shifting slightly from you to his son. "I already got you a Mommy, isn't that enough?" You snorted with laughter, but Noah was undeterred. 

"I want a dog."

"Noah, if we get a dog, somehow it will end up being my responsibility. Maybe when you're older," Bradley said. But he was pouting, and he looked like he was going to cry. 

"Daddy," you whined softly with a little grin. "I always wanted a dog, too." 

Now Bradley was looking back and forth between you and Noah, before settling on you. "Are you really going to do this to me right now? You could probably get away with murder at the moment, Princess."

"Isn't that always the case?" you asked sweetly as you shifted a bit in your seat and served yourself some dinner. 

Bradley groaned and held his forehead in his hand. "Can we talk about this later?" he begged, glancing at you between his fingers. But you were busy smiling at his son. 

"We'll work on it, okay sweet Noah?" you whispered. 

"Okay," Noah agreed softly before he started eating again.

But teasing Bradley about the dog definitely backfired on you later on the couch. Noah wanted to watch a Disney movie, so Bradley sat in the middle of the couch with your head resting on one thigh and Noah's on the other. The Princess and the Frog was playing, because Bradley insisted you deserved a princess movie. And everything was perfect. His hand was heavy on your side, stroking you through your clothing in the most delicious way.

When the movie was nearly finished, Bradley murmured, "Noah's asleep," as his hand skimmed along your hip. Then inch by inch, his fingers worked their way along your butt until he was cupping you with one big hand. Then you felt him prod you through your clothing, running one long finger across the base of your toy. 

"Fuck," he grunted as he very gently pressed it further into you. Full. You were so full. After days of wearing it for an hour here and there, you thought maybe you were ready for more. 

You looked up at Bradley over your shoulder and wiggled against his hand. The way he slowly shook his head and licked his lips made you feel like you were in control of this. But you supposed you always were. Then he eased his hand up to your lower back and teased at the waistband of your pants and underwear before dipping it inside. 

Rough skin on yours had your eyes fluttering closed. "Look at me, Baby," he whispered, and you clenched for him. "Look at me while I touch you."

You did as you were told, but he subtly let you know you were still in charge. His brown eyes were sincere and open as he cupped your rear end, moving the plug incrementally. Pushing, pulling, tugging and teasing. When you whimpered, he pushed his fingers forward to your pussy. 

"Daddy," you gasped as he pushed his rough fingers through your folds.

He spanked your pussy lightly until you were afraid you'd start getting loud. "Go get yourself in bed," he instructed. Then he withdrew his fingers and licked them clean. When you rolled onto your belly, your cheek and hand rubbed against his cock in his pants. "I'll come take care of you in a minute."

"Yes, Daddy." You kissed Noah's cheek and then leaned down to taste yourself on Bradley's lips. Then you ran into the bedroom and tossed all of your clothing into the hamper, replacing all of it with a new matching bra and thong you paid for with his credit card. "Damn it," you whined. The toy was making you squirm for release, and you were half tempted to touch yourself. You were nervous, but only slightly, because you knew Bradley would do whatever you told him to. So you grabbed the lube from your drawer and settled onto your beautiful, new bed. 

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

Shit. You were already touching yourself when Bradley walked into the bedroom. Black lingerie, your purple plug peeking out, and you on your back with your fingers in your pussy. "Jesus Christ," he groaned, ripping his shirt off and tossing it on the floor. You looked so young and innocent, even with your ass full of that toy. Bradley couldn't believe the words he was about to speak out loud. "Will you let me fuck you in the ass?"

Wide eyed and writhing around on your back on the bed, you nodded at him. "Yes." He was determined to do this just right. He never wanted to hurt you. He always wanted you to feel good when you were with him. Carefully he removed his jeans and joined you on the bed with his cock hard in his briefs. 

"You've been teasing me with that toy all night," he whispered, pressing a feather light kiss to your lips and pulling away so you'd chase him for more. "Time to see if you can handle something a little bigger."

You whined for him as he kissed down your body. "You're a lot bigger," you gasped when he nibbled on you through your bra. "You'll go slow?"

Bradley hummed against your skin, stretching up to kiss your neck. "I'll do whatever you want. Anything you want. And if you tell me to stop, I'll stop."

"Okay," you whispered. "Just go slow."

He could hear the slight edge of apprehension in your voice, so he took your face in his hand and kissed your cheek. He wanted to be sure this was a good type of nervous, not a bad one. "You are under no obligation to do this, Princess. You already give me more than enough." 

"I know," you replied, meeting his lips with yours.

But he pulled back and forced you to look him in the eye. "Tell me one more time that this is what you want. And tell me that you trust me."

You nibbled on your lip before you said, "I always trust you. And I want to try this. Now make me feel good."

Bradley was grinning as he slipped his hand down your belly and tucked it inside your black underwear. The swirl of his fingers on your clit had you gasping, and soon he pulled your underwear off. You were already wet when he put his mouth on you, and then Bradley thought about edging you to make you squirt for him. But your fingers were rough in his hair, and he knew he would be too far gone to be as gentle as possible if he did that. So he took his time, burying his nose and mouth in your sweet pussy, and licking you everywhere until you came for him. Then he licked all around that plug and admired the tight pucker of your hole wrapped around it.

"Fuck," he gasped, placing a kiss to your inner thigh. He was going to find out just how tight you were. As you rode the little jolts of pleasure still going through your body, Bradley carefully wrapped his arms around your back and got you onto all fours. "Try it like this?" he asked, caging your body in beneath his.

Your words were a little incoherent as you bucked back against him, and he could feel the base of your toy against his cock through his underwear. Oh hell, he needed to pull himself together. He needed something familiar to calm himself down. Bradley unclasped your bra and pressed his chest to your back, watching the strap slide down your arm. Your hips were rocking back, and he moved in unison with you, planting his left hand on the bed and rubbing your tits with his right. 

He kissed along your spine and moaned, "You'll put me in an early grave, I swear it." Your soft giggle had him dragging his lips along your shoulder until he was kissing your neck. "I love you, Baby."

"I love you too, Daddy," you whispered, and it was the sweetest thing. So Bradley stood on his knees behind you, admiring the way you and that toy looked as he spread your legs wide. When he slid his underwear down, his cock bounced up to tap you, nudging the plug and making you groan. He didn't know how this was going to work as he pumped his hand along his girth before slipping himself into your pussy. And that was the familiar thing he needed, clearing his mind as you whined, "I feel so full. My toy and my Daddy."

Bradley smirked and rubbed himself against the base as held your hips. "Just wait," he warned playfully. The pretty curve of your back had him running his hand up and everywhere along your silky skin. Your hair smelled like wildflowers when he kissed your back. And then you were begging him to do it. 

He reached for the lube and drizzled it all over you before coating his cock liberally. Then he fucked your pussy with steady strokes as he carefully eased the toy out of you as you gasped. Your perfect hole gripped along the plug, and Bradley had to count to ten to calm himself down. "Baby," he groaned, tossing the toy aside. "You ready?"

"Yes."

His cock was shiny and slick, resting on his palm, and then he was pressing himself to your asshole, convinced you were going to tell him to stop. You were so tight, he had to bite down on his lip as he pushed. And then you were whining, "More. More," as you squeezed the tip of him so much, he was afraid he'd black out. 

"Princess," he growled, head tipped back as he pushed slowly. So slowly. He was dizzy from it, the slow pace driving him to the edge. "So tight. Holy hell." And then you turned to look at him over your shoulder. Your eyes were glazed over with need, and your lips were parted softly. 

"Feels good," you gasped, and he reached out to run his thumb along your lip. You kissed him. You were perfect. He pushed himself a little deeper, and you kissed his thumb again. He looked down to see himself buried inside you as you licked his thumb. 

"God damn it," he cursed, and you squeezed him a little tighter. "Fuck, fuck, fuck." He dipped his thumb into your mouth and whispered, "I can't last like this. Too fucking good. So tight." He was shaking his head, but you were nodding and swirling your tongue along his thumb. He withdrew an inch and thrust, and you started keening. 

If Bradley managed even ten strokes inside your ass, it was a miracle. He went slowly, but it was too much. And you were loud, spurring him on with his thumb tucked between your lips and pressed to your tongue.

Every time you tightened around him, he knew he was going to cum. He was just biding his time for a few more seconds, and then it was too much. He tried to keep his movements steady and fluid as he came inside you, but they were a little jerky. He was grunting your name over and over, trying to get himself under control. "Are you okay?" he asked, voice rough as he slipped his thumb out of your mouth. 

"Mmm, yes," you moaned. "It only hurt a little, and then it felt good."

Bradley brought both hands to your hips and stroked you as he started to gently withdraw from your body. And then his jaw went slack as you were puckered around his tip. It was going to look so pretty, he just knew it. 

"Baby," he whined when he pulled himself free. His white cum was at your opening, and he watched that first droplet as it slid down to your pussy and dripped onto the bed. You were oozing with his finish, and he was transfixed. 

You said his name and made to roll over, but Bradley kept you still with his big hands on your thighs. "Shh," he coaxed as another long drop fell to the bed. And then he licked you clean as you mewled and whimpered. He lapped up every bit of his cum as it leaked out of you, and he cleaned up your pussy as well. 

"Bradley," you whispered as he gently rolled you to your back. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he settled on top of you, careful to keep his full body weight from hurting you. The fucked out, exhausted expression on your face made him smile.

"You did so good, Baby."

"I know," you agreed. "I liked it."

His lips were ghosting over yours as he asked, "Do you need anything? Want me to get a shower ready for us?"

"In a couple minutes," you replied easily. And then Bradley rolled you both to your sides and snuggled you against him with one big hand on your ass.

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

You were just trying to get through your day at work on Thursday. You just needed to make it to Friday morning when the three of you would be driving up to the lake house to meet Mav, Penny and Amelia. But two of your coworkers were out sick, and you had to pick up all the slack. You even had to text Bradley and let him know you wouldn't be able to pick Noah up or start dinner. 

Bradley Daddy Bradshaw: Take your time. I'll make sandwiches for dinner. See you at home.

Once you had all of the exam rooms cleaned and disinfected, Dr. Kelly found you and said, "Go home. Enjoy your long weekend with your family. That little Noah is the cutest thing."

You laughed and nodded. "Oh, he knows he's adorable. It's getting to be a problem. See you next week." 

Then you made your way to your car and thought about how you and Noah were most definitely going to wear Bradley down, and soon enough you'd have a dog at home. You'd even been working on a shortlist of names for when that fateful day arrived. You picked up a few pet themed coloring books on your lunch break, and when you pulled into the driveway, you took the bag from the front seat. 

The mail truck was just pulling up to your house; he must have been having a late day, too. You walked to the curb to meet him, and he handed everything to you with a wave. As you walked up to the porch, you picked your envelopes out of the stack and left Bradley's separate. Great, your student loan statement was here. You couldn't wait to see how your last payment barely put a dent in things. 

"Hi," you called out as you walked through the living room. "Sorry, I'm so late." But when you looked into the kitchen, Bradley was still in his uniform, calmly making a turkey and cheese sandwich and cutting it into little triangles while Noah colored. 

"Nothing to be sorry about," Bradley rasped, and you kissed his shoulder through his shirt. "I'll make your sandwich next." But you'd already moved on to Noah, smothering him in kisses while he laughed. 

"Check out this dog themed coloring book," you said loudly, earning a glare from Bradley as you set it down in front of Noah. "Isn't this little brown puppy on the cover just adorable?"

"I want a dog," Noah whined as he opened the cover and got to work. You were betting you'd have a dog by next month. 

"Relentless," Bradley groaned, and you wrapped your arms around him from behind. "Did you have a good day?" he asked. "Ready for the lake?"

"Yes. And definitely." He tried to hand you a sandwich on a plate, but you said, "Let me go through my mail first before I forget. I want to make sure I log in and make my student loan payment tonight before we leave in the morning." You took the sandwich from him and noticed that he looked a little timid now. "What's wrong?"

"Well. Nothing's wrong," he said quietly as you bit into the sandwich and then set it down again to open up your envelope. But he had you distracted, and you realized too late that you had opened a piece of his mail from Tracy by mistake. You skimmed along the page and you gasped as tears welled up in your eyes. 

I, Bradley Bradshaw, a legal adult of sound mind and competency, do hereby declare this to be my last will and testament (hereinafter, “Last Will & Testament”) and do hereby revoke any and all wills and codicils heretofore made jointly or severally by me.

In the event I shall die as the sole parent of minor child(ren), then I appoint as guardian over minor child(ren)

You stopped when you read your name and dropped the papers to the floor as you burst into tears. "Bradley," you gasped, and he looked up from where he was putting mayonnaise on a slice of bread. You bent to pick up the papers, but you were so emotional, you could barely see, so you just sat on the floor next to them and looked up at him. 

"What's wrong?" he asked, kneeling down and cupping your face in his hands. "Princess, tell me what's wrong."

You swiped at your tears with your hands and whispered, "You trust me that much?"

"What are you talking about, Baby?" he asked, and then he reached for one of the papers on the floor. "Your student loans?"

He was about to realize what you had read, so you quickly said, "I didn't mean to open it, I tore into the wrong envelope. I thought it was my student-"

Bradley silenced your sentence with a kiss as you sobbed. When he released your lips, you could still feel his nose on your cheek as you tried to get your breathing under control. "Yes. I trust you that much. If something happens to me, I know you'll take care of Noah."

You threw your arms around his neck and pushed him back onto his butt and climbed into his lap. "I would. I really would."

He held you close and softly said, "I was planning on telling you this weekend. The paperwork isn't finalized yet, but I can call Tracy's office and have it completed at any time."

You kissed him and said, "Call first thing tomorrow morning."

"Okay. I'll call first thing tomorrow morning." He was smiling as you let your forehead rest against his. 

"Why are you on the floor?" Noah asked, leaning over the table to look at you both. 

Bradley scooped you up as he stood and set you down on your feet, but you kept your arms around him. "Mommy was just being silly, Bub. How about you put the crayons down and eat your sandwich." Then he kissed your hair and said, "You better eat your sandwich, too."

You took your plate and the mail to the table and sat down across from Noah. You watched him sip his milk through a straw cup and then eat all of the cheese out of the sandwich first. He was perfect. And you'd never have to be without him. Bradley trusted you with his child more than anyone else. And you knew he wanted to have another one.

As he sat down next to you with his own sandwich and a beer, you opened your student loan envelope and started to read. But you could feel his eyes on you as he sipped his Heineken. 

"You okay, Daddy?" you asked softly, wiping at at stray tear.

"Just read your mail," he replied. When you looked back down at the paper in your hands, you saw that instead of nearly ten thousand dollars, your balance due for nursing school was zero.

"What did you do?" you gasped, looking him in the eye. 

He just shrugged and bit into his own sandwich, smiling as he chewed. "Paid off your loans. Your interest rate was so high, you'd still be paying on them by the time you're my age. Which is dumb when I have the money to take care of it now."

"Bradley!" Your eyes were welling with tears again as you said, "You didn't have to do that!"

His voice was stern as you crawled into his lap again. "I trust you with Noah, one hundred percent. The money doesn't matter as much as that."

You let your head rest on his shoulder as you straddled his thigh, and his big hand was rubbing your back. "You still didn't have to," you whispered. "But thank you. And now I can help you with your mortgage and bills instead."

"You just save your money, and we'll figure it out later."

But you already knew you'd talk him into letting you pay for something. And the rest could go into a savings account for school for Noah. And anything leftover could be used to plan for the exciting future you were going to experience with the two of them. 

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

Daddy keeps on winning now. And Princess doesn't have to worry about the things that shouldn't matter. Next up, the lake house. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 37

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@chassy21

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[starlightsuffered]

Christmas Retreat (p3)

Info - British reader, shy reader, jealousy, bi reader, lust, mention of masturbation

It had been difficult to sleep in a new bed, as comfortable as I’d been. I’d taken a bath and I’d sprayed my lavender. However, images of Timothée kept popping into my head. I couldn’t believe I’d developed a crush on day one of my vacation.

Eventually I’d decided to masturbate. I knew no other way to get myself sleepy. I pulled up some porn, hoping this place couldn’t see what I searched. The whole time I touched myself I tried very hard not to think of Timothée. I felt like it would be a violation to touch to him after only just meeting him.

I’d finally fallen into a heavy sleep. I’d awoken groggy and disoriented. I knew the kitchen had coffee. I dragged myself up, throwing on clothes. I was in such a stupor I didn’t think about who may see me.

I walked out to the kitchen, in desperate need for caffine. Perhaps I’d read by the crackling fire. Maybe I’d take a walk. The world was really my oyster even if I felt completely drained.

I stopped dead in my tracks. There he was, skin glowing, low slung pajama bottoms, and whistling. He was topless and his wavy hair was adorably mussed. Timothée was making something that required a lot of hand work and I was mesmerised. He seemed to be focused.

“Oh come in, sorry if I’m a bother,” he said casually as he looked up. As if he hadn’t just knocked me off my feet, as if I could speak, as if-

“Wanna help me make the cookies?” He asked. I clued in suddenly. He was using the mix we’d been given.

“I-“

“Thought I’d make a good impression by making cookies for the house,” Timothée said.

“Coffee,” was all I could stutter.

“Aw, you don’t wanna help me?” He asked.

“M-me cook with you?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” Timothée said, and looked down. For once he didn’t seem confident, he seemed awkward. “I thought you were nice. Hoped I’d make a friend or two here.”

“I’ll help!” I nearly burst out. I was rushing to his side. If this sexy man wanted me as a friend. I was here.

“Could you hand me the eggs?” He asked. I nearly dropped the carton as I scrambled to give him what he wanted.

“Hey, if this makes you nervous, you don’t have to help-“

“No, no, I’m fine, just worried about your chest,” I said lamely.

“My chest?” He asked.

“You could get burned,” I murmured.

“Oh yeah,” he agreed. He grabbed a shirt from seemingly no where. He threw it on and I cursed myself internally. Why had I said anything? Now I couldn’t see his gorgeous body.

However, now that Timothée’s torso was covered, I did feel less nervous. He asked me for ingredients and I passed them over. We made a good team and started up an easy rhythm.

“Press this button,” he requested. I did as he said. The mixer began to stir the ingredients together.

“So, you have trouble sleeping last night?” Timothée asked me.

“Yes? How did you…. How did you know?” I asked him.

Timothée stepped closer to me. My breath caught in my chest. I felt shaky as he got nearer and nearer. I gulped when he stopped. We weren’t even a foot apart. He lifted a perfect hand. He gently ran the pad of his thumb under my right eye.

“You just look a little tired,” he whispered.

“My eyes are always tired looking,” I said awkwardly.

“They’re sweet, I like your eyes,” Timothée said with a crooked smile.

“Nah, I’m ugly,” I scoffed. I didn’t know how a man with the gorgeous eyes he had could be complimenting mine.

His face fell. He almost looked a bit angry.

“Hey-“ Timothée began.

“What smells so delicious!” Crooned a female voice. Meredith walked in a very revealing nightgown. I didn’t shame women for what they chose to wear, normally, I’d likely be turned on; right now, I hated her. She sauntered over with more confidence than I’d ever have. She turned off the mixer and dipped a manicured finger inside the mix.

I loved hands, and I was definitely attracted to women as well as men, but I found this display distasteful.

Meredith stuck her finger in her mouth and moaned as she tasted the batter. She let her eyes flutter open and smirked at Timothée.

“Wow, you’re an amazing cook, I just can’t even describe how this batter tastes,” she simpered.

“I gotta go,” I muttered, knowing I would NOT be missed. I felt angry and stupid. I returned to my room and grabbed a book I’d packed.

I don’t know why I had even gotten my hopes up. Timothée was way too good for me.

I tried to lull myself into a comfortable reading rhythm. The book was interesting. However, I couldn’t get the melancholy off my heart. This trip was supposed to be a reprieve from all this woe is me.

I slammed my book shut. I couldn’t focus on this. I decided I’d play some shipping forcast I’d downloaded before I’d left London, and I’d take a bath.

My body sunk happily into the warm water. I wish I’d thought to bring some sort of bath fizz, but alas. I closed my eyes and imagined I was sailing on the sea.

It seemed I’d fallen asleep, probably due to the poor rest the night before. The water was cold and I heard a banging on my door. Cursing, I scampered out and let the drain out. I hurried to grab a towel.

The knocking wasn’t stopping for some reason. I didn’t know if it was urgent so I was forced to grab my robe. I was torn between the dip in confidence someone else seeing me in this would give me, and the desire to not be rude by not answering.

I opted to open the door a crack and pray maybe it was just a cleaning service who I could ask to come back later. I ran a tanned hand through my hair and inched open my door.

“Y/n?” Timothée asked in a slightly concerned voice.

“Just a moment!” I nearly squeaked. I slammed the door. I felt like I was being pranked or some shit. I felt panic sinking in as I scrambled for clothing.

I finally was ready after what seemed like ages. I yanked open the door and nearly tripped into Timothée.

“Woah there buddy,” Timothée chuckled. I realised suddenly he was holding something. As I steadied myself I realised it was a paper plate wrapped in cling film. On the plate were perfect cookies in the shape of stockings.

“You left before you could get any,” He said. “Thought you could have them with some tea.”

“Oh,” it was all I could say. I felt a catch in my throat. It was such an incredibly kind thing to do. I’d been thinking all about myself when I’d stormed off.

“Thank you,” I tried to say it without letting my voice crack.

“No problem, I mean, you helped make them.”

I accepted the cookies and didn’t quite know what to do next. Timothée rubbed the back of his neck.

“Sorry about Meredith,” he finally murmured.

“Nothing to be sorry about,” I said, not making eye contact. I felt like I’d been immature as hell.

“I don’t know why she is like that-“

“Mate, she bloody fancies you,” I scoffed.

“Yeah, but I don’t know why she has to be so brazen about it,” he grumbled. I realised he’d been uncomfortable as well. He didn’t like the attention from Meredith. I felt bad for him. Maybe he had a girlfriend. No, he didn’t need to have a girlfriend to be unhappy about unsolicited sexual advances.

“Hey, if you ever need me there… to like back you up or help you get away, I’m here,” I offered.

The side of his mouth quirked up. He looked at me with that adorable crooked smile and I could’ve melted.

“Yeah?”

“Absolutely,” I agreed.

“You’re a good person y/n,” he said next. I was beet red surely.

“Thank you,” I stuttered as my face burned.

“Enjoy your cookies,” he said, maintaining that cute look. He whistled as he walked down the hall.

I retreated to my room with my treats. As I sat back in the rocking chair I’d been provided, I took a bite of one of the desserts. I sighed in contentment. The cookies were delicious to be sure. However, I didn’t think of the green icing when I bit into the treat, I was thinking of the green of Timothée’s eyes.

@pmak2002 @softhecreator @plutoispurplw @sp1deyyf4ngz @seungcheol17daddy @jesschalamet @vvsdreaming @lovelyrocker

[eeerrrrewsd]

Close Enough

Part 2

George O’Malley x Reader

You just matter more.

The next time you ended up in George’s bed, it wasn’t because of a bad date.

It wasn’t because of Izzie or Meredith, either.

It was just you and him.

The apartment was quiet, the others gone for the night, leaving an emptiness that felt unfamiliar. You hadn’t meant to stay this late, but talking to George was easy—too easy.

One second, you were sitting on his floor, legs crossed as you argued over which attending was the worst to scrub in with. The next, you were lying side by side on his bed, facing each other in the dim glow of his bedside lamp.

Somewhere along the way, the conversation had softened, drifting into something quieter.

“You’re different with them,” you murmured, watching him.

George blinked. “What do you mean?”

“You let them take up space. You let them climb into your bed without thinking twice, you let them take your fries, you let them tease you about everything.”

His lips quirked in a small, self-deprecating smile. “That’s what friends do.”

“But you don’t do that with me.”

His breath caught, and for a second, he just looked at you, wide-eyed and caught off guard.

You shifted slightly, your hand brushing against his on the blanket. “Do you not think of me like that?”

“No,” he said quickly, then groaned, running a hand down his face. “I mean—yes, I do. I do think of you like that. I just—” He let out a breath, staring at the ceiling. “It’s different.”

“Different how?”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed. He turned his head to look at you again, eyes flickering between yours, searching for something.

“You matter more,” he admitted quietly.

The air felt heavier, the space between you smaller than before.

You could feel your own heartbeat, loud and steady, as you hesitated. Then, cautiously, you reached out, fingers barely grazing the fabric of his t-shirt before curling into it slightly.

“You know,” you whispered, “you let them in so easily. You should let me in too.”

George exhaled shakily, closing his eyes for a second before opening them again.

Then, he moved—just enough to close the gap, his forehead resting lightly against yours.

“I want to,” he murmured. “I just don’t want to mess this up.”

“You won’t,” you promised, voice barely above a breath.

His hand found yours in the dark, fingers lacing together.

And for now, that was enough.

[no-phrogs-in-hats]

Can I please have an imagine where the reader is the younger twin sister of Meredith Grey and ends up falling in love with Addison Montgomery. The two get together and keep it a secret for awhile (because your twin sister getting with your boyfriends ex wife is kinda weird). But one day the two are caught in an on-call room by everyone. A bit of angst with a lot of fluff please?

In the Shadows and Under the Sheets !!!Light NSFW!!!

Pairing: Addison Montgomery x fem!reader

Warnings: major mommy issues, secret relationship, brief on-call room sex hehe, light angst<3

A/N: first oneshot for McMommy Addison Montgomery hope you enjoy<3

As much as you loved your twin sister, part of you resented her. Your mother had encouraged her to go to med school. Your mother encouraged her to be a surgeon. Your mother encouraged her to be amazing, one of a kind, extraordinary. 

“You’d be more suited as a nurse,” she had said before you applied to every possible pre-med program in the country at seventeen. “Or maybe dermatology.”

Straight A’s since grade school, a perfect 1600 on your SAT, graduated Magna Cum Laude, and you’d only be fit as a nurse? Not that there’s anything wrong with that. Nurses are the backbone of the healthcare system. They leave and everything falls apart.

But to have your mother have so little faith in you–it hurt. It hurt more than you could possibly imagine. Maybe it was because you reminded her too much of your father–too soft, not hardcore enough for a surgeon. 

“Sometimes I wish I listened to my mom’s advice,” you mutter into the darkness of Addison’s bedroom. 

Addison, who lays beside you with her head on your chest, sits up. “What?”

“She–” you clear your throat. “She told me, before applying to med school, that I’d be better suited as a nurse–or in dermatology. That I’m too soft and that I wouldn’t make it as a surgeon.”

Addison brought a hand to your forehead, brushing aside stray hair. “You? Too soft?” When you nodded silently, she flashed a bitter-sweet smile. “Sweetheart…you are an amazing surgeon. Being soft isn’t a weakness. You need to have compassion and empathy if you’re going to be a doctor–especially if you do plan on going into pediatrics.”

The sound of your alarm startles you and press a reassuring kiss to Addison’s lips before getting out of bed and starting your morning routine.

__________

Addison sighed heavily as she scribbled down details of her most recent patient in their chart. You stare at her from afar, admiring the way her glasses sit, perched on the bridge of her nose, and the way she seems to drown out everything when she concentrates. How her skirt hugs her curves, how her hair is pinned up and exposing her neck…

“You seem stressed,” you murmur, standing beside Addison under the guise of discussing a case. 

She side-eyes you, trying to hold back a smile before going back to filling out her patient’s chart. “I’m…fine.”

“You sure about that?” you ask. “Because I have a very good way to help with stress and I think you’ll want to take me up on this offer…” You take the pen from her hand and grin, clicking it and placing it in the pocket of your white coat. “On-call room three. Five minutes.”

__________

You giggle as Addison presses kisses to your neck and removes your scrub top. You hold her close, running your hands up and down her body before unbuttoning her blouse and tossing it to the side.

“Still stressed?” you ask.

“I dunno,” she answers lowly. “If I am, do we get to continue?”

You laugh quietly, “We’d continue even if you weren’t stressed.”

Addison presses a firm kiss to your lips and you make your way down her body, placing soft, open-mouth kisses to her navel and nipping at her hips. You slowly drag her skirt down and continue with your kisses down her thighs as you toss it onto the floor.

You smile against her inner thigh and she jolts at your bites before letting out a soft moan. “God, you are gorgeous…”

She takes a deep breath and sighs as you get closer and closer to her aching core, “Don’t stop, please, don’t stop.”

You wrap your arms around her thighs to hold her still, and just as you were about to get started, the worst possible thing happened.

As the on-call room light turns on, you gasp and look up. “Meredith!”

She stands in the doorway with an awkward look on her face before shutting the door quickly. Climbing out of the bed quickly, you pull on your scrub top, “You didn’t lock the door, Addison?”

Before she gets a chance to respond, you rush out the door and find that Meredith is still there–waiting for you. “Mer, I–”

“No,” she says. “Don’t. You gave me crap for sleeping with an attending.”

“I know, and I’m s–”

“I’m not done. You gave me crap about sleeping with Derek and now you’re sleeping with his wife!” 

“Ex-wife,” you mumble. 

“It doesn’t matter!” she snaps. “You’re a hypocrite! How long has this been going on?”

You thought for a moment, counting back the months of seemingly harmless flirting and innocent touches before it turned into…not so innocent touches. “Um…a couple months.”

“I’m your sister! You were the first person I told after I got back together with Derek!” There was a moment’s silence between the pair of you before Meredith spoke up again. “Are you happy?” 

 “What?”

“Does…does she make you happy?” Meredith repeats.

“...Yes,” you respond. “Yeah, she does.”

“Okay…good.”

“Good.”

Answering a page, Meredith leaves you to your own devices and you return to the on-call room. You watch with a grin as Addison buttons up her blouse.

“What?” she says.

“Next time,” you smile, placing a soft kiss on her lips, “lock the damn door.”

[nostradamus0]

several sentence sunday (on monday)

(as is always the way, with me)

tagged by the lovely @benwvatt!! thank you <3

this is more like a few paragraphs but guess what i do not care :)

But this morning, when she wakes, it’s to the soft sound of him sniffling and the rustling of the sheet as he moves, his little feet pressing into her stomach. Her palm, resting protectively on his stomach, rises with his every breath. Her mind is slow to pull her out of sleep, and she lies there for a moment, just her and her son, curled against each other before the morning has risen. She hovers at the edge of sleep for a while, and so does Henry, wiggling a little but seeming content to just lie there with her. By the time he starts to fuss, she’s nearly back to sleep, and is sluggish to respond. He whines, and her fingertips twitch against his belly. She needs to get up. The hardwood creaks by the door. Henry smacks his lips, babbling something in that soft and sleepy baby voice of his, and faintly, Addison hears someone hush him, equally quiet and soft. The bed dips beside her; someone lifts Henry from the blankets, from under her arm, and when she twitches, confused, a gentle voice murmurs: “It’s okay, Addison, sleep. I’ve got him,” and so she does. Something warm fizzes inside her chest, and she melts back into the mattress, curling a hand under her head beneath the pillow that smells of lavender and laundry soap. Like Meredith. She drifts back to sleep.

no-pressure tagginnggggg @lesbiansayaishii @crime-wives @sssammich @ anyone else who wants to, it's too early for me to have thoughts and remember anything