#preschool secrets | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cherrixpie · 29 days ago

Text

NEMESIS

part six of six

↬ you were supposed to steer clear of mattheo riddle. Shame that he was just so irrestible.

↬ eventual nsfw content (at ca. 8k words); wc: 14.8k (because why not); cw: mentions of violence, swearing, blood, smut (mdni) ; tags: gryffindor!reader, muggleborn!reader, enemies to lovers ; nsfw tags: oral fem receiving, praise, teasing, overstimulation, p in v, aftercare

( masterlist )

Your heart beat rapidly in your chest as you hurried past students and ghosts alike. In your vision, they were reduced to flashes of blue, yellow, green and red, or an ethereal shimmering, background noise, the first layer on a canvas.

Once you reached the top step, you were gasping for breath, but the lack of oxygen didn't stop you from running along the wall to avoid the crowd that would only slow you down, simultaneously mapping out Hogwarts inside your head to take the quickest route to Dumbledore's office. Half aware that many heads were turning after you, some whispering behind their hands, you crossed a corner into an emptier corridor and only hastened your tempo.

Fictitious yet haunting images flashed before your waking eye as your imagination ran wild with what could possibly have happened to Mattheo. He'd get in fights constantly, but, to your knowledge, had never been summoned to the headmaster. Though, Dumbledore hadn't asked for him but you. Fear tore at your chest, adding to the ache of running. Was Mattheo so badly hurt that he felt the need to console his friends- and significant other?

In the last corridor, you barely stumbled towards the stairs that led up to the headmaster's office and gasped the password at the gargoyle who nodded approvingly and let you in. Barely managing to climb the last few steps, you slumped against the door to Dumbledore's office and knocked your fist against it. “Step in!” the headmaster’s old voice called from the other end and you pressed down the handle to swing the door open.

You'd been in this office once already, the night almost six years ago, after you and your friends had found the chamber of secrets and Harry had slayed the basilisk inside. There'd been a feast after, but you weren't sure if Mattheo had attended it. You'd have to ask him. Over the last days, you'd continued your habit from the tutoring lessons, of teasing each other about the way you'd previously perceived the other- though it was a lot more fun on his part when you got to hear his side of the story, living through all the events you did but experiencing them so differently. Sometimes it was funny and you found yourself giggling about things like preschool children. Other times, it was melancholic, a plea for better times or an unwelcome reminder of the difficulty of your relationship.

The portraits on the walls were pretending to be sleeping, but you couldn't be fooled anymore since your fateful run-in with chattery Dorothy Dankworth. Filigree golden instruments stood along the walls, fulfilling their mysterious purposes, and a great golden phoenix, Fawkes, sat on his place on Dumbledore's desk. The headmaster himself sat behind the desk and looked up from his parchment when you stepped in, still panting audibly for breath. His thin lips pulled into a smile as he lowered his half moon spectacles and his piercing blue eyes met yours.

You knew he could do legilimency, just as Mattheo could. Only, Mattheo had promised you never to use it against you without your knowledge, and the man sitting across from you had never made such promises.

But Dumbledore averted his stare fairly quickly and rose from his seat behind the desk, walking around it and beckoning you closer. With hesitant steps, feet still hurting from your little sprint through a huge damn castle, you walked towards him and he offered you a chair he conjured out of thin air. Without a word - you were still too out of breath - you sat down on it and he reoccupied his seat as well, clasping his hands together over the table.

“Miss Lovegood may have told you why I wished to speak to you,” he said calmly, his expression painfully serious. Oh, what you would have given for a calming smile or a winking eye right now, the safety and comfort the headmaster always displayed at the start-of-the-term feasts.

“Is he hurt?” you asked, for once without regard to proper etiquette. Your hands were clenched into fists beneath your robes, nails digging into the flesh of your palm as you fearfully awaited Dumbledore's answer.

For a few seconds, Dumbledore surveyed you thoughtfully, slightly crooking his head, before giving you the smallest of smiles. “It is true, Mr. Riddle got involved into a fight today, but he is not seriously injured. Though he would do well with medical treatment, which I hear he refused.” You breathed a sigh of relief, as confusion rose within you. Why then had you been called to the headmasters office? Why weren't you already with your boyfriend, patching him up?

“Gossip spreads incredibly fast in Hogwarts,” said Dumbledore quietly, “as you have experienced yourself. So I must ask: are you aware what the cause of Mr. Riddle's disagreement with two very unfortunate Gryffindor boys in your year was?”

“No,” you replied truthfully, going through the Gryffindor boys in your year one by one. Ron and Harry were the most likely candidates, but to your knowledge, they had spent the whole day up in Gryffindor tower and had still been there when Hermoine and you went on your way down. You could rule Neville out definitively, which left-

“Though Mr. Riddle remains with no major injuries, the same cannot be said for Mr. Finnigan and Mr. Thomas,” said Dumbledore seriously. “If eyewitnesses are to be believed, Mr. Riddle attacked Mr. Finnigan upon overhearing him suggesting to Mr. Thomas how you would come to your senses eventually, that once Mr. Riddle would get bored of you, you would come, ah, ‘crawling back’ to them.” Dumbledore seemed almost embarrassed to say this out loud.

Biting down on your lip, you lowered your gaze. It was true, Seamus had been very reserved towards you ever since you'd kissed Mattheo the day after his fight with Ron. It really shouldn't come as a surprise that he had said these things, though you'd had more respect of him before. And Mattheo… you couldn't find it in yourself to be angry at him, not when a stupid fuzzy feeling in your chest betrayed how flattered you felt that he had tried to defend your honor, even though you ultimately would have preferred it hadn't happened and no one were injured right now.

“Miss y/n?” Dumbledore asked and you looked back up at him. “Your relationship with Mr Riddle seems to be a popular topic of discussion all around the castle these days. Just yesterday, I overheard the fat monk and Sir Nicolas talking about it. So I regret weighing in on a topic you are probably long tired of.” So that was it. Dumbledore wanted to know about your relationship to Mattheo. And he was right, you weren't really in the mood of discussing it with your headmaster.

You realized he was looking at you, awaiting some sort of reaction, and you nodded. “It's fine.” It was not fine, but really, you just wanted to get this over with quickly so you could see if Mattheo was really alright as Dumbledore had said.

“To my understanding,” said Dumbledore, “and you may correct me if I'm wrong, you’re Mr. Riddle’s first girlfriend- not counting his many -uh- exploits, as well as his only relation outside of his friend group.” Reluctantly, you nodded. This felt wrong. What was he getting at?

“You must have met a great deal of resistance from your peers, especially your own house,” he continued. “Tell me, my dear: what do you see in Mr. Riddle others do not?”

Though you were taken aback by the question, you didn't need to think about it long. “What people think of him is entirely founded on the assumption that he must be like his father," you said seriously, "But you yourself will surely agree with me that it's not blood that is important, or what family you belong to, but how you choose to live your life and what decisions you make for yourself.”

“But,” Dumbledore said gently, “Mr. Riddle has been notorious for violence for quite some time, as you yourself must know.”

“If you tell someone over and over again that they are going to be a monster, that that is the path cut out for them,” you said, your voice rising a little as you got more heated, “You are not allowed to be shocked or surprised when they follow the path you pointed for them all their life!” To make your point, you sat up a little straighter and placed your hands on Dumbledore's desk. “Mattheo is a person, he's always been, what did you expect would happen if there is no hand extended to him?”

“So, you extend that hand to him?” asked Dumbledore calmly and watched you very carefully over the rim of his half moon spectacles.

“No,” you said curtly, “that was your job. For god’s sake, Mattheo isn't my charity case!” Realizing how loud you'd become unintentionally, you took a deep intake of breath to calm yourself. Respect for your teachers had always been important to you, Mattheo was the one with the anti-authority leanings. “Headmaster, I don't know what you expect me to say. But I'm not with Mattheo to- to save him or something, I'm with him because I love him.”

“Love, Miss y/n,” said Dumbledore pensively, “is often the greatest weapon against darkness. But it is not always enough to save someone who does not wish to be saved.”

“What are you saying?” you pressed, not breaking eye contact as your fingers clenched around each other on the table, curled into a tight net.

Dumbledore breathed a long sigh, and for a moment, he looked older than you'd ever seen him. “Mattheo Riddle is a young man burdened with a name that carries a great deal of darkness. I fear that darkness is eager to claim him.” He leaned forward ever so slightly. “I quite agree with you that it is not our blood that defines us. But do you believe Mattheo understands that?”

You couldn't answer this. In whispers, Mattheo had confided in you about his parentage, what some called his legacy to follow his father’s footsteps. As an incredibly powerful wizard, he'd always been expected to use these powers for the worst. It had been drilled into his head, that nothing about him could be good, that he would always be the destruction of goodness, the epitome of heinousness. He had confessed to you how he never knew how to hold you, as if you were an angel from another dimension. Too good for him, too pure to be touched by him, incorruptible and therefore never to be his, truly.

Dumbledore seemed to sense your inner conflict and addressed you, making you look up at him. “There is a storm inside that boy, one that I believe he doesn't know how to quiet. And yet, with you, he may be able to. But I advise you to let caution rule. You may be his light in the shadows, but even the brightest light cannot force someone to walk out of the dark.”

“Is that all?” you asked, burning to escape the headmasters office that seemed to get more cramped with each second. Dumbledore examined you closely, but then he nodded and you rose from your seat in an instant. Your hand already on the door handle, he called your name one last time and you turned around.

“Miss y/n?” asked Dumbledore, and the lightest of smiles played around his lips, though it seemed tainted with worry and sadness. “I do sleep better at night, knowing Mr. Riddle has you in his life.”

Leaving the office, you took off to Gryffindor tower at once, sprinting through halls and up the stairs until your lungs seemed to be bleeding and screaming in protest. Stumbling through the portrait hole, you caught sight of a group of Gryffindors in your year huddled together, throwing you both judgemental and apprehensive looks as you passed them, but neither of your closest friends were among them, so you paid them no mind.

Thankfully, the girl's dormitory was empty when you broke through the door, panting and gasping for air. Walking over to your bed, you pulled your medical bag out of your cupboard, flung the handle over your shoulder and took off down the stairs again. But when you went to make your way across the common room, you suddenly crossed paths with Ron. Assuming he'd ignore you, you tried to rush past him but his voice made you stop dead in your tracks.

“Can we talk?”

You turned around, finding him looking a little embarrassed and self-conscious, though he was still frowning. Even though the fight had been about a week ago, some of the bruises were still visible on his face, in spite of Madam Pomphrey’s medical miracles. “What is it?” you said, trying not to sound too impatient.

Ron blew out a long breath through his mouth, rocked lightly on the balls of his feet and looked anywhere but you. When you were just about to ask again, he glanced back at you and his frown deepened. “I was… a bit of an asshole last week.”

These barely muttered words stunned you enough to momentarily forget about Mattheo and concentrate your attention on the boy standing before you, who was rubbing his neck uncomfortably. “Yeah… kinda…” you said, suddenly realizing that you weren't even mad at him anymore. His words had been cruel, but you hadn't been innocent either, and he was one of your best friends. You knew he hadn't meant to hurt you, and he had gotten his comeuppance already.

“Look, I-” he seemed to be looking for the right words, “I didn't mean what I said about you being stupid and naive and throwing yourself at Riddle. I'm really sorry.”

“It's fine,” you said, after a short pause. “I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have lied to you all like that, you guys are my best friends. I was just afraid that you might react, well, disproportionately.”

“You're going to keep seeing him then?” Ron asked, barely managing to keep the bitterness out of his tone. At least he wasn't shouting anymore, and you felt confident enough to quirk a little smile. “Well, yes. Actually, I was just on the way.”

Ron clenched his jaw. “I don’t trust him. I probably never will. But if he ever hurts you, I swear I’l-” He stopped himself and sighed, giving you a hesitant smile. “Just be careful, okay? Look, you're like a sister to me, that's why I was such a bloody idiot about this. I just don't want to see you get hurt.”

“You won't,” you promised, and, after a second of hesitation, you closed the distance between the two of you and wrapped your arms around him. It was kind of hard because Ron towered over you with his considerable height, but nevertheless, he returned the embrace. When you shifted, he winced slightly and you broke apart. “Still hurts?” you asked empathetically.

Ron shrugged. “I guess I deserve that. Have fun with your boyfriend.” Though he rolled his eyes, he seemed in a much better mood than before.

Ten minutes later, you hurried down the steps to the dungeons and flew past the torches on the walls, blazing through your vision, in search of the Slytherin common room. When visiting the dungeons, you'd only ever been to the kitchens. There had never been an occasion when you'd felt the desire to enter the snakes den. Up until now.

Rounding another corner, you were suddenly faced with a dead end. Dark brick obstructed your way, cold and unsympathetic to your plight. You groaned in growing desperation, already turning on your heel to keep looking for the entrance, when suddenly, you gasped. Someone emerged from the wall, walking through stone, it seemed, as if it were nothing but fog. When they broke apart from the wall, you realized it was Theodore Nott. Equally surprised to find you, his eyes widened, then dropped to your medical bag.

“Did somebody already get you?” He asked, eyes narrowed in suspicion. To be on the receiving end of Nott’s staring was slightly terrifying and your fingers closed around the handle of your bag.

“Nobody got me,” you answered, growing more self-conscious by the second. Nott seemed so hostile- did Mattheo not want to see you? “I just… heard what happened and I wanted to come and… well…” Gesturing vaguely to your medical bag, your voice drowned off uncertainly.

But Nott only said “good” and motioned you towards him. When you came to a halt next to him, faced with the dark wall, he cleared his throat and said “vaframentum” at the wall. It seemed to be the password, as he held you by the arm and walked back through the seemingly hard brick, pulling you through with him.

It was the most peculiar feeling to walk through a wall, it seemed to mold around you like a tight suit, unable to breathe, until you came out on the other side the split of a second later. You shuddered, looked back at the brick and shook your head. “No offense, but I prefer our entrance, I think. Do people ever get stuck in there?”

“I think there was a kid, few decades back,” said Nott easily. You noticed his eyes were quite cautious as they surveyed you, but he didn't seem as hostile anymore. “He's up there.” Nott indicated something above you and only now did you properly appreciate the sight before you.

The Slytherin common room was somehow just like you had expected. The whole room was tinted in a greenish hue due to it being beneath the black lake and the portraits of many stern looking witches and wizards adorned the dark walls. Though a fire cackled in the large sophisticated fireplace, the room was a good few degrees cooler than the Gryffindor common room. The couches were of black leather and very elegant and desks stood along the walls, groaning under quills and parchment.

You looked up into the direction Nott had indicated and saw a flight of stairs leading upwards, where the dormitories had to be. With a short nod, you followed him, struggling to keep up with his long strides as you climbed the stairs. Walking up the staircase in silence, you passed many doors though none seemed to be the right one. Finally, Nott came to a halt before a large wooden door, undoubtedly the Slytherin boy's dormitory.

For the split of a second, Nott seemed to hesitate, but then, he brushed past you and opened the door. Because his large frame obscured much of what lay beyond the doorway, you could only see several pairs of feet and a curl of smoke rising over their heads, and hear Mattheo's voice, rough and agitated as he snapped at his friend. “Not you again, piss off, Nott! I need everyone to get out of my damn face.”

“It's not a pleasure looking at your face right now, I can assure you, mate,” Nott replied, coolly, leaning against the doorframe. “You look like Frankenstein's monster.”

A humorless chuckle sounded through the room and you heard someone shift. His voice, his laugh was enough for you to know that whatever had happened during that brawl had not been enough to fulfill Mattheo's need to make someone bleed for it, and for a split second, you were almost worried about Nott, even though you knew Mattheo loved him like a brother. “Oh great, another lecture,” Mattheo drawled sarcastically, looking to provoke, “you know, for someone who is not my mother, you sure nag like one.”

You couldn't help it, you couldn't stifle the little chuckle that left your throat at their banter. Silence fell upon the room. Next second, Nott was suddenly pushed away with a rough thrust and Mattheo stood before you in the doorway. He leaned against the doorframe, one arm braced against the wood, his posture careless yet undeniably tense. His knuckles were split, seeping with blood, but he didn't seem to care. Neither did he seem pained by the deep cut that split his lower lip, swollen and dark, and the faint bruise that was already blooming on his cheek.

His hair was even messier than usual, like he'd run his hand through it too many times in frustration, and he removed the cigarette from his lips to flick it down and stamp on it to suffocate the glowing embers. As he scanned your soft figure and noticed your chest heaving slightly, every breath somewhat audible as a slight hitch, his dark eyes flickered, something unreadable flashing behind them. A smirk ghosted his lips, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

“Didn't think I'd be seeing you here, princess,” he drawled, his voice low and rough, yet his eyes had somewhat softened at the sight of you. “If I knew getting my face bashed in would get you sneaking into my dorm, I might have done it sooner.”

Though worry tugged at your heartstrings at the sight of his injuries, you rolled your eyes slightly as a little smile played around your lips. Mattheo's eyes seemed to cling to them like a drowning man to his lifeline and he lowered his head slightly, grinning irresistibly down at you. Before he could try anything though, you gave him a glare and a flick against the forehead. “None of that until I have fixed that lip.”

Your rejection couldn't wash the sly smile off his lips. “I'm sure this is one of those things you can kiss better.” Behind him, you thought you heard someone gag, and Mattheo turned around sharply, glaring at Malfoy who seemed to be the culprit. “Why don't you shut your ferret ass mouth in front of my girl, Malfoy, before I make your face even prettier than Finnigan’s?” In an instant, Malfoy fell silent, merely glowering at the ground. Beside him, Lorenzo Berkshire gave you a little wave and smile that you returned.

Mattheo's eyes flickered briefly between the two of you, but without another comment, he seized you around the waist and pulled you against him and into the room. It was very orderly, probably not because of Mattheo. Zabini, Malfoy and Lorenzo seemed to stand around the four poster you assumed to be Mattheo's, looking at you with varying expressions of interest, disapproval and encouragement.

“Oi, idiots,” said Mattheo gruffly as he sat down on his mattress and pulled you along with him until you almost sat in his lap. “Kindly get your stupid faces out of my girlfriend's sight.” He seemed to take great satisfaction in calling you his girlfriend and his fingers curled into the flesh of your waist as he watched the others with sharp eyes.

“Mattheo,” you said softly, attempting to calm the storm that still seemed to be raging inside him. His head snapped around at you and his expression changed in an instant, softening visibly. His lips ran a line up your temple as he pulled you even closer. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Malfoy storm out of the room. Zabini followed, dragging a pissed looking Nott along with him, and Lorenzo left last, with a friendly smile your way.

Once the door fell shut behind them, you freed yourself from Mattheo’s hold. A disgruntled frown crossed his face, but he didn't try to stop you and only wrapped his hands around your knees, thumbs rubbing lazy circles onto your thights. A trickle of blood made its way down his chin and you brushed it away with a fleeting touch, careful not to hurt him. Many of his wounds were already scabby, but untreated. A defeated sigh lift your lips and you noticed Mattheo's eyes snapping down to them. “Why didn't you clean your wounds, Mattheo? You must be in a lot of pain.”

A casual grin tugged at his lips as he looked up at you, his dark curls falling into his eyes but he made no effort to brush them away, perhaps hoping you would. “You worried about me?” he asked in a teasing tone, his hands traveling up your thigh almost indiscernibly. “Careful, princess, you're gonna make me all soft for you.”

Shaking your head at his antics, but unable to suppress a smile, you placed your medical bag next to Mattheo on the bed and opened it to grab a small towel. With a murmured “aquamenti”, you moistened it and started to clean his cuts and bruises. You could feel his eyes on you, boring into your skull with a new intensity as he crooked his head. When you reached his lip and ran the cloth ever so carefully over his swollen cut, he didn't even wince but only leaned up as if chasing your lips for a kiss.

Quickly, you turned away, shaking your head in disbelief. “Really, Mattheo, you’re impossible. You're bleeding and bruising up and you still-” Breaking off with another sigh, you averted your eyes from his that had begun to glint at your abashed expression. You discarded the towel and instead took the murtlap essence, dipped your fingers into the cold liquid and began dabbing it onto the cut on his lip.

“Not gonna lie,” he said, lowering his voice slightly and it resonated in the limited space between his and your lips. “You fussing over me is kind of hot.” His eyes searched for yours, and when they met, his gaze locked you in place, unable to take your eyes off of him. “I wanted you to do it,” he said huskily, “I didn't clean ‘em because I wanted you to do it.”

The way your brows scrunched together almost had him on his knees for you. You looked so fucking irresistible in the dim light of his dorm, looking down at him with worry etched into your gaze and the soft touch of your hands. No one had ever cared for him like this. No one had ever cared enough to heal him, patch him up. Mattheo himself had mostly just let the injuries be until they vanished or turned into messy scars. Not that he'd ever cared. If anything, it only made people flinch back even more. And as much as he hated them for their silent judgement, there was a certain satisfaction in seeing the fear in their eyes when they looked at him.

Fear. Mattheo had found himself reveling in it ever since he'd first experienced it: the summer after his father had returned from his Albanian exile. Before, it’d only ever bothered him how people burst out of the way when he walked down hallways. But now, doing to them what was done to him seemed not only just in a twisted way, but satisfactory. Even seeing his friends flinch away from him from time to time was a warped sort of thrill he relished.

But not with you. Mattheo hated the thought that he might see the same fear he'd seen in others reflected in your eyes. Your horrified expression after the brawl with Weasley had been enough of an appetizer to make him detest the very thought. No, you saw something in him, something good, something worth worrying about. And for the first time in his life, Mattheo didn't want to prove anyone's assumptions right by being as much of a monster as they all expected, but to be whatever you liked about him, though he couldn't really imagine what that might be.

“Knew you'd come,” he said, finally, after a short silence during which you had been dabbing at a cut through his brow, eyes narrowed adorably in concentration. “You're too kind, princess.” He couldn't resist urging you closer, his hands still cupping your lower thighs. Though his head was craned upwards, he couldn't have cared less about neck strain. He'd not let himself be deprived of the sight of you fussing over him with such tender care. A smirk played around his lips and he could see your eyes flick down to them, an almost unnoticeable tint of pink on your cheeks. Fucking hell, how he loved to see you blush.

Almost instinctively, his hands tightened and your breath hitched a little. Mattheo couldn't help the light groan that left his lips. “You should be in bed, not sneaking into the serpent’s den for your reckless boyfriend.”

To his surprise, you breathed an amused chuckle and ruffled his hair. He could have moaned when your fingers grazed over his scalp, he was damn near purring, leaning into your touch and catching your thumb between his teeth. You gasped in faux indignation and delivered the lightest of slaps to his temple. But a soft smile spread across your utterly kissable lips. “Tragically, I would do it any day.”

Mattheo felt something pull tight in his chest at your words, a warmth he wasn’t prepared for, something dangerous in its softness. He covered it the only way he knew how: with a smirk, with teasing, with the same careless charm that usually kept people at arm’s length. But it didn't quite work with you. Not when you were this close, your hands so gentle against his bruised skin, your eyes holding none of the judgement he was used to. He forced a chuckle, tilting his head as if unaffected, as if you hadn’t just unraveled something inside him with a single sentence. “Tempting idea, if it gets you all over me.”

It was meant to be flirty, meant to be light, but even he could hear the edge of truth beneath it- because, Merlin help him, he was starting to think he liked being taken care of by you. And that? That terrified him more than any fight ever could. The little laugh that spluttered past your lips didn't improve his precarious situation. “There are easier ways to do that, you know,” you said, quirking an eyebrow. “Not involving sending people to the hospital wing, I mean.”

Your heart skipped a beat when Mattheo's expression darkened visibly, as if the storm you'd managed to calm for a few minutes was brewing up again, swirling in his dark eyes. His jaw clenched dangerously and again, his grip on your thighs tightened as if on instinct. “They deserved it. Like I'd ever let them talk about you like that and do nothing." You could tell he was still agitated by what Seamus had said, his knee rocking restlessly and the words practically spat out of his mouth.

Frowning, you dabbed at his cheek and drew soft circles on his blooming bruise. “Mattheo, people just need time. Before I came here, Ron apologized to me. It will be the same with the rest, they'll get used to it.”

But your attempt to soothe his simmering wrath, it only seemed to spur him on as his eyes hardened. “Did you forgive him?” he asked through clenched teeth, still looking up at you with unwavering attention.

You hesitated upon recognizing the barely suppressed fury in his tone and leaned down peck his healing lips. Though his lips chased after yours, you didn't want to risk reopening the cut and drew away decisively. “Well,” you said, ignoring the way one of his index fingers started to draw a line up your thigh and the goosebumps it left in its wake. “Yes,” you confessed, “for what he said about me, at least.”

A harsh “tch” made its way past his lips and the next words he nearly growled. “Of course you did.”

Feeling a pinch of defiance, you got a hold of Mattheo’s hand that had been wandering up to your skirt and placed it firmly back on your knee. “So, you think I was wrong to forgive him?” you asked with a frown.

For the first time this evening, Mattheo tore his eyes away from yours and fixed them instead on a spot somewhere on your belly where your shirt was tucked neatly into your school skirt. “‘m not gonna sit here and pretend I don't benefit from you being so damn forgiving. But I guess that's what you have me for now.” Though he shrugged, you saw that his shoulders were tense and caught his fingers wrapping around each other, squeezing the bleeding knuckles that only emitted more blood.

“You’ll be my guard dog for the bad guys then?” you joked in an attempt to lighten the mood. A heavy tension had set upon the room, weighing down on you like a thick blanket. His touch and his intense, dark eyes paired with his agitation and words of boiling rage. The inevitable mood swings, when he'd attempt to shield his true feelings behind a well crafted mask of sarcasm and flirtatious teasing. Mattheo Riddle was a rollercoaster of a man, and it was hard to keep up with him at times. But then again, you'd always known that.

Instead of switching to a more conversational and casual tone, Mattheo suddenly brushed your hand off. You could practically see it in his eyes, like closing shutters of a dimly lit house. Mattheo was closing himself off, and he moved his head so your arm fell helplessly to his side. His hands had detached themselves from your thighs as his fingers seemed to look for another smoke in his inside pocket. “You're wasting your time, love. Not like a few bruises are gonna kill me.”

With an almost exasperated sigh, you crouched down before him so that you were now the one looking up at him and closed your fingers around his red and slimy hands. Not a muscle twitched in his face, it seemed to have frozen over into a mask of indifference. “Mattheo, I want to,” you said, firmly and in great earnest, “I don't want to see you hurt. Please-” your voice dropped down to a low whisper, “please let me help you.”

Fuck. You'd used the magic word, whether it had been conscious or not. Mattheo could never resist you pleading so sweetly, looking up at him with those caring, loving eyes, holding a gaze so heavy with tenderness as he'd never experienced it before. Your hand reached out to him, and he flinched away for the split of a second, knowing your touch would be too much, would burn down all barriers and barricades he could flee behind to hide from your disarming kindness. When your hand cupped his face softly, he damn near shuddered under your hold, leaning into your touch and looking up at you with blazing eyes. “You're really gonna waste those pretty hands on fixing me up, huh?”

You let out a smile laugh, aghast at how he could be flirty even in the most grim of circumstances, with blood running down his face. Shaking your head, you got a hold of his hands and started to treat his bashed in knuckles. “I think these pretty hands are put to good use.”

Seeing his lips quirk up into a smirk, you knew what he was gonna say before he did, wiggling his eyebrows at you. “I think I know a way to put them to better use.”

“You are a menace onto the world, Mattheo,” you chuckled in disbelief and his smile only seemed to widen. Dropping his right hand, you reached for his left one and started dabbing a soothing creme onto his scabby knuckles, moving your index finger in small, careful circles over the wounds.

Mattheo leaned forwards slightly, seeking your gaze with his distracting enigmatic eyes. “Mmm, keep touching me like that and I might start purring.” You delivered a light push to his torso in a feeble attempt to free yourself from his distracting proximity, but your eyes widened in alarm when Mattheo failed to conceal the lightest of winces. Immediately, he attempted to distract you with another charming smile, but your nurse instincts knew greater obstacles.

“Take off your shirt,” you said firmly and gave him a short glare. To your surprise, he didn't quirk one flirty brow at you and no low teasing whistle made its way past his lips. Instead, he turned and held your steady gaze hostage as he slipped his hand from yours and worked on the buttons of his shirt. You felt almost burned by his chestnut eyes as his fingers escaped your sight and he shrugged off his white shirt in a singular motion.

When your eyes wandered down his torso, you felt your breath catch in your throat- but not in a good way. The bruises and fresh cuts were bad enough, but it was his scars that truly stunned you. They were spread all over his upper body, some faded and thin, others deep and jagged and alarmingly recent, craving stories you weren't sure you could handle knowing across his skin. Your fingers, trembling slightly, hovered over a particularly brutal mark near his ribs, but you couldn't bring yourself to touch it, afraid of hurting him, afraid of what it might mean.

Were those all a product of his fury fueled fighting? Many of the fresher scars didn't look like the consequence of a hallway brawl. They looked like remnants of cruel torture, the kind you'd only ever seen in your healing books about treating wounds inflicted by dark magic. How many times had he been hurt like this? And worse- how many times had no one been there to patch him up? The thought sent a dull ache through your chest, made your heart clench and sadness settle heavy in your stomach.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to meet his gaze, but he wasn't smirking anymore. His expression was guarded, wary- like he was waiting for you to flinch back, pull away, see disgust settle upon your features. But all you could think of was how much pain had he been carrying alone? Without your consent, you felt your eyes well up with tears and averted them, pretending to study the more recent bruises. But the deep, brutal cuts stood out to you as if there was a stagelight upon them, and you felt a stubborn tear slip past your defenses and roll down your cheek.

Before you could brush it away and pretend it had never been there, you felt rough pads of fingers under your chin, guiding you to look at the one they belonged to. Mattheo's brows were scrunched together in what seemed like worry. It was an unusual look on his face, it somehow didn't seem to match his features, as if someone had pulled and arranged them into an awkward interpretation of care. But you knew better. You knew he wasn't used to showing any kind of emotion, much less worry, care or empathy. All of which would be considered a weakness, and Mattheo couldn't allow himself to be weak.

Mattheo Riddle was an animal because his life had been guided by a single driving force: staying alive, making it to the next day. Roughening up with each new hardship was an adaption, a natural evolution. Hardening was a necessary precaution, because care for anyone else would mean less care for himself, and he needed all he could get. You knew what a precarious line he walked, and how eager the world was to see him fall. Because you had been them, and you had been watching. Only now did you realize how much.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, sounding almost insecure. Though you tried to keep it together, this show of vulnerability only added to the pile weighing in on your poor heart that belonged to him way too much already. You tried to smile, but another tear made its way past your lashes and down your cheeks and your breath trembled audibly.

“I'm just-,” you said, unsure how to properly wrap the emotions welling up in you up in a sensible string of words, how to explain. “I'm just so sad,” you finally managed to confess weakly, plainly, the words so flat you could have slapped yourself. “For you,” you clarified, when his brows twitched with irritation, the urge to rid you of anything that might be dissatisfactory to his princess. “For all the pain in your life. I wish you hadn't needed to go through it.” Your voice was a mere breath, a dying whisper on your tongue. Finally, your shaking fingers lay upon the largest scare with such care that he would barely be able to feel it. “I wish I'd been there with you.”

“No, you don't,” he said firmly. Something flashed in his eyes, almost like panic, like a deer in the headlights as he imagined you with him, within his fathers reach. But they hardened the split of a second after. “Hear me, princess? You don't.” You couldn't help yourself, you leaned into his touch and his hand seized your neck, his thumb brushing over your cheek.

For a long while that felt like an eternity and a second at once, he didn't speak, only looked at you. Your care had taken him off guard. You'd shed tears for him. Nobody had ever cared about him like you did, with an unconditional love like yours, with a kindness like yours. Nobody had ever shed tears for him. He should have felt bad that you were crying for him, especially when he himself would say some of these wounds were deserved. If not for his direct action, then for the crime of his existence. But he couldn't deny the feeling of stupid stupid relief at seeing you care so deeply.

Having calmed your tears, you wiped the last remnants from your cheeks and gave him an apologetic look. But before you could even open your lips to mutter an apology, his free hand seized one of your wrists and the intensity with which his eyes met yours made any attempt at speaking die on your tongue. Slowly, as if giving you the chance to pull away any second, he guided your hand towards him until it touched the skin of his shoulder, one of the more faded scars. It felt hot against your hand, even though you'd made sure to warm your hands up before treating him.

Still keeping your gaze hostage, Mattheo slowly moved your hand, moved it over his collar bone and down his chest, running over smaller and bigger scars, clean and brutal ones. He didn't blink once, only looking into your helpless eyes as he made you touch every single scar on his body. When he let go of your wrist, it fell limbly against your side and the ghost of a smile appeared on his lips as he crooked his head at you. “See? Now they’re beautiful.”

A shaky breath left your lips and hung in the air between you, like a question. He answered as he tilted his head slightly and reached out to you in a way that didn't need hands. When you lowered your lips onto his, they were still impossibly soft from the soothing effect of the serum. His moved gently against yours, missing the usual heat and settling for a tender caress. His hands settled on your thighs once more as he caught every shaky breath with his lips. You knew he was no man of words, a stranger to comfort, but he had the right instincts.

After a good minute, you parted and you directed your eyes at his body once more. You were still here to treat him, after all. So, you sat down on the bed beside him, made him turn and face you and started applying diptam to his bruises. Checking that no ribs were fractured, you ran your hands over his sides and could practically feel him swallowing down a provocative comment.

When you were finished, you pulled away from him and stored your flasks in your bag. As you looked back at him, you felt your heart skip a beat. The neutral healer’s eye had been replaced, you could no longer see Mattheo's body as just another body to be treated. He was undeniably, unfairly beautiful. The sharp cut of his collarbones, the taut muscles beneath scarred skin, the way his stomach tapered down in a way that made your stomach twist. Even battered and bruised, sitting on his bed beneath your healing hands, he carried himself with, it seemed, effortless strength. Every line of his body was shaped by a lifetime of fights, of survival.

Your fingers twitched at your sides, warmth creeping up your neck as your eyes traced the ridges of his abdomen, the way his chest rose and fell with steady breaths, his dark gaze flickering over you like he knew exactly what you were thinking. And maybe he did- because when you finally dragged your eyes back to his, that damn smirk was back, lazy and knowing, and Merlin help you, it only made him more infuriatingly attractive. You felt heat rise in your cheeks and averted your eyes, afraid they might linger and betray your hunger for him. But of course, nothing could escape Mattheo.

When you attempted to bring some distance between you and his irresistible smile and body, he rose from the bed and strolled towards you with slow, deliberate steps. Backing away, you felt like a mouse fleeing a hungry cat, until your back met wood and your breath got stuck in your throat- audibly. Mattheo's eyes widened with pleasure at the sound and his infuriating smirk only deepened as his attentive eyes caught the way your gaze fixed on anything but him. Fucking adorable.

You even leaned back your head against the wood as his arms came up to cage you in, making you look up at him with rosy cheeks and an abashed smile. “Uh,” you said, squirming under his intense gaze, and voice shaking for a whole other reason than distress. “Don't you want to put your shirt back on?”

Mattheo chuckled at your words, he seemed to find your sudden embarrassment very amusing. “Blushing, are we?” he asked, ignoring your suggestion and inching closer until there were only breaths between your still clothed chest and his bare one. You found yourself aching for him, aching for him to close the distance, because you could never, and you would never ask it. But Mattheo only made a “tsk” sound and shook his head in playful scolding, “and here I thought you were being professional.”

Any response died on your tongue when he leaned down and all you could see was him, all you could smell was him, all you could hear was him. Your senses were overwhelmed with him, him, him, as you did your very best not to sneak a look at his bare upper body. For some reason, Mattheod seemed to be able to sense your distress, though he made no attempt to ease it. Quite the contrary. Another chuckle left his lips, growing ever more dangerous. “Relax, princess, you can look. I don't bite, not unless you want me to.”

“I-” you managed to say before the look in his dark eyes sealed your lips just as effectively as a charm might have. He leaned in even further until his breath fanned your lips and you closed your eyes in unfulfilled expectation. “Fucking hell,” he murmured into the little space between you, “you're adorable when you try to pretend you're not flustered. Tell me princess-” Without a warning, he grabbed your wrist and brought your hand to his chest once more, this time running it over his abs. His devious eyes seemed to notice every reaction, every nervous flicker of your eyes. “Do you want to touch me?”

Not trusting your voice, you nodded and he cooed, running your hand up to his chest and down again. Again, that suffocating smirk. “I know you want to look at me,” he said, “wouldn't even need legilimency for that. Go on. I'm yours now, remember? You’re allowed to look, princess.” For a moment, you managed to keep up the act, but then, your eyes flickered down to his body and you felt yourself shiver with desire. God, he was beautiful.

Suddenly, his hands released your wrist and found their way to your waist, pulling you with him as he walked slowly over to his four-poster. You felt almost dizzy from looking into his eyes, as if they were black holes pulling you towards him with irresistible force. Your heart nearly leaped from your chest when a light push made you flop down onto his mattress and he followed suit, swallowing all forms of protest as his lips clashed into yours with fiery heat.

The kiss was demanding, it had the edge the previous one had missed. Mattheo kissed you as if he wanted to devour you whole, as if he wanted to claim your lips as his forever. His rough hands dug into the flesh of your waist and guided you slowly to lie on your back, exerting full control over you. Yet you'd rarely felt more content, experienced such a thrill as when one of his hands cupped your cheek and angled your jaw just right for his lips to wander down your neck and leave red marks in their wake. There was little Mattheo loved more than marking you up, molding your soft skin into a shape of his liking, sully it with marks of his claim on you.

When he reached the spot just below your ear, your breath hitched in your throat and Mattheo damn near groaned into your neck. Your smell overwhelmed him, the feeling of your soft skin on his, listing to your labored breathing and you. You laying in his bed, in his sheets. When he was satisfied with the mark he was working on, he forced himself to part from your neck, from your skin, to hover above you. Your lips were kiss-bitten and slightly swollen, fresh hickeys adorned your neck and writhed so sweetly in his bed. His. This was where you belonged, with him, and he with you.

Your breathing was uneven as you looked up at Mattheo, his dark eyes glinting dangerously as they raked down your clothed figure. A crease appeared between his brows as he lowered himself once more, but refusing to close the distance between the two of you. His fingers played with the hem of your shirt that had come untucked at some point and his voice was nearly a growl. “Think we should be equal, don't you, princess?” His voice was heaving just slightly, enough to make him maddeningly irresistible. “Why don't you take this off?”

Though thoroughly flustered by your current predicament, by the way his bare chest moved against yours and the pads of his fingers brushed experimentally over the exposed skin of your waist, you managed to give him a small smile. “Why don't you?”

Something changed behind the guarded curtains of his eyes, something shifted, like a beast awoken from slumber. Mattheo chuckled dryly against your lips when suddenly, a resounding rip reached your ears. You flinched when he literally tore your shirt off of you, buttons flying in every direction. Your gasp was muffled by his lips as they crashed into yours once more, chaotic and wild, as he worked on discarding what was left of your shirt. In dire need for air, you pulled away and pushed at his chest lightly. “Jesus, Mattheo, my shirt!”

“Be that damn cheeky again and I'll do the same to your skirt,” he said lowly before propping himself up just enough to get a proper view of your exposed upper body. His eyes were captured with fascination, unable to tear themselves away from the soft skin, the curve of your breasts and your damn white lace bra. Fuck, if you hadn't looked enough like an angel already. Unsuspectedly, he could feel his heart hammering against his ribcage, his fingers almost trembling as he ran them up the side of your belly, over the soft flesh, until they reached your bra. Shivering deliciously beneath his simple touch, you looked up at him with your doe eyes and he felt the conflicting desires to absolutely ruin you and impale himself on a stick for touching something so damn holy with his sullied hands.

Sitting up slightly, you seemed to misinterpret his lingering stare and crossed your arms over your chest. Immediately, his shot forward to seize your wrists and pin them above your head, unable to hide the hunger brimming behind his cold facade. “Fucking beautiful you are,” he said gruffly and reveled in the way your cheeks heated up, the soft tint of pink. His eyes were drawn to the hickies on your neck and Merlin did they look good on you.

Your chest was heaving under his intense gaze as he dipped his head down to kiss, nibble and mark all along your collarbone. “Take that off.” You complied immediately, reaching behind your back to unhook your bra and discarding it somewhere to the side. “Won't someone- ah!” You let out the a high-pitched squeak when he bit down on the flesh just above your breasts and could hear him breathing in deeply. Determined, you tried again as his lips made their way down the valley of your breasts. “Won't someone come in?”

“No one who wants to keep their head,” he growled and you whimpered when he turned his attention to one of your tits. He let go of your wrists in favor of cupping the other and rubbing circles around your sensitive bud, making you stifle a soft mewl. “So, what about that skirt?” He pressed and your now free hands quickly made their way down, tugging at the waistband of your skirt. Impatient, one of his hands slapped yours away and pulled the skirt down your legs, along with your thights, leaving you with nothing more than your panties against the heated air of his dorm.

Mattheo buried his fingers in the soft flesh of your thighs and you could feel him against your thigh, feel his arousal. It was somewhat calming to know that he was just as effected as you, though he wasnt yet mewling helplessly. You felt his hot breath on your skin as his lips travelled down, down your belly, leaving a trail of unexpectedly soft kisses and whispering into your soft flesh as if in holy confession. “Merlin, you’re so fucking beautiful, can't believe it, cant wait to hear you scream my name-”

If you’d been blushing before, you definitely were now. Something hot seemed to pulsate in your cheeks as your heart fluttered with every word he spoke into your skin, spoken in the tone of a starving man praying for salvation.

Mattheo was in love with the little sounds you made as his lips made their way down your body, his fingers brushing over spots he knew would have your skin break out into goosebumps. Merlin, how he relished how responsive you were, how your soft, pliant body seemed to mold into his every touch and how your helpless little gasps and suppressed mewls sounded like music in his ears. He’d have you screaming for him in no time, have you screaming his name, and his heart raced in eager expectation.

But he had to take it slow with you. For one, he knew he was far more experienced than you were- when it came to the physical sense. But he’d never done it like this. With actual love behind it. The act of sex had always been about selfish pleasure on the one hand and power on the other. The power of someone else’s reactions, the satisfaction of knowing they despised him as they fell apart under his touch, that he’d be their dirty fucking secret but so powerless in that moment. There was no love behind it, just sex and power.

But now, he had to overthink. You were so perfect, so soft and gentle, so he had to try and be gentle with you, too- because you deserved it more than anyone. Mattheo was well aware that you deserved someone better than him, someone less tainted, less selfish, and better at loving you. But the heavens should strike him down if he couldnt give you the best time out of anyone in this damn castle. But it had to be perfect. It had to be just right.

As he reached your pubic bone and his deft fingers closed around the waistband of your underwear, you squirmed slightly and felt goosebumps spread all over your skin, in spite of how damn hot it was. “No no no, don’t run away from me now, princess,” he muttered against the skin of your pubic bone, and when you glanced down at him, you saw him look up at you with the utmost devotion and a carnal need that had you gasp lightly. Both his hands were on your thighs as he rested his chin on one of them and looked at your through his long dark lashes. The tension seemed to mount between the two of you, you realized he was waiting for something as heat crept up your neck.

Then, without any warning aside from a small twitch of his lips, he leaned down and blew a gust of air against your clothed core. A high-pitched yelp left your lips and he chuckled darkly, slowly pulling at the waistband of your panties. And even still, he was fixing you in place with those criminally seductive eyes of his. “What do you want me to do, princess?” he asked with raised brows and you swallowed thickly, chest heaving as you propped yourself up on your elbows to look at him. Your wide, pretty eyes almost had him folding for you, but he wanted to hear you say it. Wanted nothing more than for you to disregard your bashfulness, whatever means necessary.

But you found yourself unable to answer, not with the way his eyes bore into yours and you hoped he would read your desire in your mind, so you wouldn't have to say the words that felt so utterly filthy,you could never say it. Let alone the thought had your cheeks burn with shyness and you shook your head shakily, looking at him with pleading eyes. His teasing smile grew when suddenly, you felt his hand cup your clothed cunt, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from you. “Want me to eat you out like you deserve, princess?” he asked, smiling evily at your abashed whine, “Salazar, I bet you taste sweeter than sugar.”

“Mattheo,” you breathed, whether to spurr him on or to warn him you didn't know, but he cooed. “I know, princess, I know.” His hand drew away, but was soon replaced by his index finger drawing lazy circles over the fabric of your underwear. With a disgustingly smug look on his face, his eyes raked over your slightly trembling form as you practically shook in anticipation.

You looked so fucking sweet, barely holding it together, blushing and stuttering and he hadnt even properly touched you yet. Though he had planned your first time with him to be all about you, he could feel himself harden painfully as he burned to seek relief against the mattress. But if Mattheo could do one thing, it was to disregard his needs.

“Tell me, princess,” he drawled as he kept rubbing painfully slow circles, barely teasing your clit. Though you would never mentioned it, you’d heard from the other girls in your dorm how good he was in bed, you knew he was teasing you deliberately. “Anyone ever eaten you out before?” Hesitating for a split second, you shook your head and saw his brows twitch. He hummed lowly. “What fucking losers.”

You stifled a moan when he slipped his hand under your lace panties and grazed the rough pads of his fingers over your most sensitive spot. “There weren't a lot of them,” you almost whispered and his eyes snapped up at you. “A-actually just one, really.”

An almost mocking smile adorned his lips. “Really now? And how was it?” Somehow, he already knew the answer, you could see it in his eyes, the quirk of his brow, the edge of his smile. Whether it was legilimency or he had somehow read it off the curves off your body, you didnt knew. You only knew he’d derive great pleasure from hearing you say it.

“‘t was pretty short,” you managed to croak out and gasped when Mattheo’s fingers finally released you from his tortuous teasing and twirled around your clit in a way that had you mewl loudly. Embarrassed, you slapped your hand over your mouth, but his eyes hardened and he fucking pinched your clit, making you squeak in a mix of pleasure and pain.

“None of that, princess,” he muttered in a commanding tone, “I wanna hear you, if you want me to make you cum. You do want that, don’t you?” Bashfulness, paired with his diligently working fingers, made you whine pathetically and he smirked. “That’s what I thought. Be a good girl and take those hands off your mouth, yeah?” With shaking fingers, you did and he tutted softly. “Atta girl. Now lie down.”

In a twisted way, it went to his head, how quickly you let yourself sink into the mattress, how eagerly you obeyed his command, how much you trusted him with yourself. You could still afford to be trusting, he realized, other than him. But he would fucking make sure you’d never lose that. He’d never let the world wash away your kindness, he’d kill anyone who tried.

With an impatient grunt, he pulled your panties off and threw them somewhere to the side. A shudder went through him when he came face to face with your perfect cunt. Merlin, you were so damn soaked. Mattheo felt pride swell within him, so unlike the selfish satisfaction he'd gained from others' pleasure. Oh, how long he’d imagined this these past few weeks, having you all pliant and soft under him, making you fall apart on his tongue. But fuck did your sweet smell call out to him, so that he couldn't waste an time.

When his tongue came into contact with your clit, you squeaked in a mix of surprise and a sudden surge of pleasure, but Mattheo barely gavce you any time top adjust to the feeling. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason in the way he was practically delving into your soaked cunt, as if he meant to suffocate himself in it. His tongue leaped at your core, then sucked on your clit in a way that had you seeing stars and you moaned powerlessly as you became putty in his hands. Mattheo ate you out like a man starved, and every single on of your moans was like music to his ears. His tongue swirled around your clit and a high-pitched mewl fell from your lips, so addictive that he had to do it again, and again, and again-

Mattheo threw your legs over his shoulders to find a new angle and your hands shot down to bury themselves in his soft curls. You tried not to tug too hard, but when he licked one long stripe up your cunt, moaning so fucking filthily, you couldn't help but hold onto him as if he was your lifeline. And Merlin, how he loved it. Loved the way your fingers dug into his curls, loved the way you pulled at them in response to his ministrations, how he could feel your fingers quiver when his came down to your cunt to ease open your entrance.

When he slipped a first finger inside, you practically whimpered and Mattheo could’ve sworn he lost his sanity right then and there. He added another finger to your sweet little cunt and scissored them, pushed them in and out of your glistening folds, angled them upwards and unerringly hit the spot that had you break for him so fucking deliciously. What he didnt expect was for you to breathe a mewl of his name that went straight to his aching cock. Oh, you little minx.

He chuckled against your sensitive bud and your breath hitched in your throat. “Say it again,” he murmured against your folds as his fingers and tongue worked tirelessly to bring you to your high. “Say it, my name, say it.” You didn't even need his instructions, the repeated high-pitched moans of his name rolled off your tongue as if it were the only word you had ever known and, glancing down, you saw him grind his hips into the mattress. Your hips bucked against his face when the pleasure mounted up to new heights and he accelerated the speed of his tongue and fingers.

Allowing himself one look at you, he wished he could engrave the sight into his skull: you, shaking and blushing under his ministrations, whimpering helplessly and writhing in his sheets. His sheets, his girl, all his. Even his mind was growing hazy, but he willed himself to stay focused for you as you got closer to your high. You were on cloud nine, feeling only pure bliss and goddamn had everyone been right about him: Mattheo Riddle knew what he was doing. His deliberate movements overwhelmed your senses with unknown pleasure and your thighs started shaking, as did your fingers.

“‘M close,” you barely managed to breathe out, lips quivering with the intensity of the orgasm you felt building up in your core.

You weren’t sure if he’d heard you, buried between your thighs, but his fingers only picked up speed, his tongue flicked against your clit and with a guttoral moan, you fell apart on his tongue. You could almost see the gates of heaven as pleasure unlike any you’d experienced before wiped any and every thought from your head but him, him, him. Mattheo worked you through your high as you kept mewling his name as if in prayer. How ridiculous, someone as heavenly as you praying to someone as depraved as himself- and how utterly twisted it was that he enjoyed it so fucking much.

Even as you began trashing in his hold, he couldn't stop, couldn't have it be over, couldn't depart from your sweetness. “Mattheo, ‘s too much,” you whimpered, but he was like a man possessed, kept going as if he couldnt stop himself. “I can’t!”

“Yes, you can,” he growled, lapping up your juices, and you couldn't help yourself. As you felt a scream build up in your throat, you ripped your hands from his hair, earning a grunt of displeasure, and threw them over your mouth to muffle the loud cry. He stopped.

For a second, relief flooded over you, but then his face entered your field of vision as he hovered above you. His curls were as messy as you'd never seen them before, due to your restless hands, and your juices covered the better half of his face, making his lips glisten. His pupils were blown wide and a frown adorned his beautiful face, a frown that made you breath hitch and goosebumps spread all over your skin.

“Sorry,” you gasped, so short on breath as if you’d just run a marathon. “Sorry, Mattheo, I couldnt-”

His frown softened when he heard your voice quiver, looked into your pleading eyes. You were so fucking sweet, he’d never even think of punishing you. No, he only wanted to spoil you rotten, see the bliss in your eyes and hear his name on your tongue as he pushed you over the edge.

“‘S fine,” he sighed, wrapping an arm around your waist and lowering himself down to meet your lips. You seemed taken aback to taste yourself on his lips, making him smile into the kiss, but then, you opened your soft lips to allow his tongue access into your mouth and readily gave in to its push. Feeling his skin against yours, chest against chest, your tits pressed against his sternum and his sweat mingling with yours. It was so intimate you sighed into the kiss, which made him chuckle lowly.

Just then, you felt it. Something hard, clothed, dig into your thigh, and a trembling, daring hand of yours slipped between your intertwined bodies and grazed the tent in his pants. Mattheo let out a sharp hiss and his lips departed from yours to bite down on your ear lobe teasingly. “Well, aren’t you nice, always thimkin’ of me?”

You ignored his comment, sittin up a little to establish eye contact. Something was burning on your tongue, something you needed to ask before anything else happened between the two of you. Your heart beat nervously against your ribcage, but when you met his chestnut eyes, you felt all worry wash away in an instant. “What is it, princess?” Mattheo asked, crooking his head in a way that had his curls fall adorably into his eyes.

Before he could, you brushed them away softly and kept your hand on his cheek, as if to stabilize yourself. “I- I want to keep going.” God, your cheeks burned from just these words and he took notice with a light smile. Mattheo made no attempts to interrupt you as you searched for the right words in your head, arranged them in order, just to discard them. You weren’t good at this, he was, he could just talk about this kind of thing without turning into a blushing mess.

“Mattheo?”

“Hm?” he made expectantly as one hand of his started rubbing slow circles on your hip. “I-” you broke off and wet your suddenly dry lips with your tongue. God, this was so embarrassing you wanted to crawl in a hole and die. “I’ve heard from others about- well-,” you stuttered hesitantly and Mattheo, slowly piecing it together, grinned teasingly, only worsening your embarrassment. With a shaky breath, you dared to meet his eye and decided just to get it over with. “Would you mind not being as- as rough on our first time? I mean, now? It’s not that I don’t- I mean, I just-,” you rambled but he placed a quick peck on your lips, effectively shutting you up.

His eyes were softer than you’d ever seen them, more open than you’d ever seen them, more vulnerable, more loving. “Hey, hey, princess. We do it exactly the way you want, the way you enjoy, alright?” he said, still drawing soothing circles on your skin.

But you frowned lightly, brows drawing together. “But that’s not right,” you protested, “what about you?”

For the split of a second, Mattheo was startled, simply because he didn't remember ever being asked this question by anyone. But of course you would. You, with the kind smile and the soft hands and the warm look in your eyes. You, who never failed to think of him even when he really didn't want you to. But who was he kidding, it felt fucking amazing to know how much you cared about him.

“I’m getting my fair share of pleasure either way,” he smirked against your lips, playfully pinching the skin of your hip. You nodded slightly, your hand shakily resting upon his clothed cock once more and he covered the shaky breath that left his lips with a growled chuckle. “Careful there, princess,” he teased, head dipping down to trail kisses up your jaw, “You’re playing with fire.”

Nothing could have prepared him for the next words that left your mouth as you brought your other hand to his chin to make him look at you. “Then maybe I want to burn with you.”

Something seemed to snap within Mattheo and he surged forward, stealing the breath out of your lungs as he cradled your face and kissed you with such force you fell back into the sheets. Your chest heaved against his as you brought your hands to his hair and he groaned into the kis, biting down on your bottom lip. “We don’t have to do it tonight,” he managed to rasp against your lips, summoning his last remnants of morality that kept him from ruininmg you right here, right now, and drinking up every single sound of pleasure you made.

“I want to, Mattheo,” you whimpered as his hand found your clit once more, rubbing slow circles over the oversensitive bud. “I want you.”

“Fucking hell, primcess,” he straight up moaned and your breath hitched when he ground his clothed erection against your bare core. But you didn't let up, bucking your hips up to meet his and mewling when the fabric of his trousers rubbed over your clit so deliciously.

“Please,” you breathed against the shell of his ear when he started sucking on the already blooming hickeys on your neck again. “Please, Mattheo, I need you.”

Holy hell, your pleading shot straight to his cock. Your slightly whiny tone, the begging. Please. Please. You repeated it and Mattheo wished he could hear you say it forever. He fucking loved hearing you beg, loved the way your breath hitched in your throat when he bucked his hips into yours and your fingers tightened in his curls. His impatient fingers fumbled with his belt, tugged at the zipper of his pants until he was able to discard them to some corner of the room he didnt care to know. Because all there was now was you. Your breathing, your little moans, your squirming figure beneath his and your god damn pleas that had him weak in the knees. And, of course, the feeble but of fabric still separating you from him.

Pulling his boxers down as quickly as possible without departing from your neck, he finally managed to get them off and his cock, an angry red and already leaking precum, slapped against his abdomen with a filthy sound. When you felt his erection rub over your core, no fabric seperating you anymore, you bit down on Mattheo’s shoulder to stifle a mewl and dug your fingers into his biceps. His lips departed from your neck as he hovered above you, his curls framing his face like a halo. God, how you loved that man.

Your eyes were locked with his as his cockhead kissed your clit and you let out a high-pitched gasp, giving him a needy look. But Mattheo’s usual teasing manner had been replaced by an almost somber look in his eyes, as if he wanted to savor every second of this. He didnt have to ask if you were ready, you only nodded and he pushed in the first few inches.

Mattheo moaned loudly, unabashedly, and you tightened your grip on his bicep at the uncomfortable stretch. God, he was big, bigger than the one you’d had before, and anxiety curled in your stomach that you wouldnt be able to fit him inside. But Mattheos seemed to sense your worry as his breath shuddered over your face and he pecked your temple. “Relax,” he cooed, whispering praises into your ear that had you tremble and blush helplessly.

He didnt move, and it seemed to cost him a great deal of willpower, but as his tip pressed into your entrance and you breathed in and out through your mouth, you slowly managed to adjust as the sting turned into a comfortable stretch. With a little nod, you signaled him to go further and he pushed in another few inches, straight up whimpering into your ear. The sound made you clench and his fingers tightened around your waist. “fuck, princess, you trying to kill me?”

You shook your head and buried your face in his shoulder, trying to relax to make him fit. Mattheo cooed at your determination, rubbing lazy circles on your clit to ease you in. “M’gonna make you feel so good, princess, promise.”

Finally, with a lot of patience and willpower, Mattheo managed to bottom out and both of you struggled for air. His hands wandered down to your hips as he chuckled against your ear. “Such a good girl, taking me like a champ, arent ya?” All you could do was whimper in response, you felt so damn full, could almost feel him in your stomach. But the uncomfortable stretch became more enjoyable by the second and you let out a shaky breath against his skin.

“M- mattheo,” you croaked out pathetically and he cooed once more, breathing in the scent of your hair. “Feel so full,” you almost slurred, as if your mind had gone permanently blank, and you could feel him chuckle darkly into your hair.

“Do you now, princess?”

You nodded and his grin persistet as he started to rock his hips against yours. He pulled out and slammed back in, eliciting a loud moan from you, and reveled in the way your face scrunched up with pleasure. Your fingers shakily tried to grasp anything, his biceps, the sheets, any sort of halt, as he repeated the movement and you mewled helplessly. Mattheo burned to pick up the pace, ram into you with all his might, claim you like the animal he was, but he forced himself to discipline and established a slow pace to help you adjust.

Hiding your face in his shoulder, soft moans of his name slipped past your lips that made it impossibly harder to keep up the slow pace, but for nothing in the world would he stop now. He couldn't. His cock fitted so perfectly into your warmth, your little moans rung in his ears like a heavenly symphony. This was truly heaven, had to be. Especially when he looked down on you to see your fucked-ut expression, the crown of your hair around your face. He’d been wrong. You weren't an angel. You were a fucking goddess.

Without him even realizing, he’d picked up the pace and your fingers dug into his shoulder. “M- mattheo,” you whimpered and he had to stop himself from mercilessly ramming into your perfect cunt. Instead, he let his head fall to your neck and bit down. The cry it elicited from you made him shiver and moan in response, as his teeth dug into your soft flesh in search of some sort of support. He knew it would be the most prominent mark of all, and he relished the thought of you walking around with it, cheeks heating when someone asked about it. Damn right, they’d know, know you were his.

As if you’d heard his thoughts, your shaky little voice rasped into his ear: “Yours, I’m yours.”

Had he said it out loud? He couldnt tell anymore as any and all resolve crumbled and he rammed into you, all the while craessing your soft body with his rough hands. “Fucking right,” he spat against your lips - when had you come this close? - “You’re mine.”

Nodding helplessly, you seemed to be at a loss for words, or maybe too fucked out to string a single sentence together. The thought made him chuckle amd you whined. When you squirmed, he held your hips down, desperately stopping himself from cumming before you. As he felt his own high approaching, his fingerds slipped back down to your clit to draw hurried circles on it. “You’re mine to worship, mine to protect-” He pistoned in and out of you and each push was met with soft little “ah”s from you as you threw your head back and exposed your neck to him, your neck that was covered in his hickeys and he moaned uncontrollably.

“I’ll kill ‘em all,” he rasped against your lips as you tightened around him and the pleasure seemed to pierce through you like arrows, blinding you as you squeezed your eyes shut and cried out his name. “Damn right,” he murmured and you werent even sure what you’d said anymore, only holding onto him as you release cam crushing down on you. “I’ll kill anyone who’ll ever hurt you, nobody touches my girl.” You were pretty sure that he, too, was merely rambling right now as his hips bucked against yours uncontrollably, having lost all steadyness or rhythm.

As the world slowly took form again around you, as you came down from your high, you could practically feel him pulse inside you and crashed your lips onto his. He kissed you back like it was the last thing he’d ever do. Between kisses, you managed to catch fragments of drunken ramblings, until you realized it was a singular phrase, repeated agin and again, breaking off and whispered repeatedly against your lips, in a way that had you wondering whether he himself knew he was speaking.

“I love you.”

Your hand closed around his as he pulled out in a rapid motion and you could feel him release his cum all over your quivering thighs. For a few seconds, there was nothing but your breathing, the soft heaving of your bare chests against each other, the desperate attempt to refill your lungs with air. Then, Mattheo rolled off of you and sank into the sheets next to you. His strong arms came to wrap themselves around your waist as he pulled you towards him. One hand found its way to your neck where he tilted your head just right to softly peck your lips, and again, and again, but giving you room to breathe.

This was new territory, but it felt almost natural to trace soft lines down your sides, card his fingers through your hair and swallow up your little sighs. Mattheo was a stranger to aftercare, as to so many things you had taught him, beginning with airplanes and ending with unconditional love. He’d almost feared this moment, but the tenderness seemed instinctive with you as he grabbed the towel you’d used earlier for his wounds, cleaned it with a bit of wandless magic and ran it over your oversensitive core.

Exhausted, you rested your head against his chest and your hand on the prominent scar on his abdomen. Finally, you dared ask. “What happened there, Mattheo?”

His lips came to softly caress your temple and one of his hands rubbed soothingly along the curve of your hip. “Nothing you’ve gotta worry about.”

“Yes, it is,” you said, but your tone suggested that you would not insist upon hearing the story tonight. “It’s you, and I worry about you, because-” you hesitated for just a moment before opening your eyes and looking up at him. “Because I love you too.”

Mattheo couldn’t answer, any ability to form words seemed to have left him as he stared into your wide, trusting eyes. Again, he felt that if there was a time to die, it was now, with you. But there was another voice too. You loved him. You cared for him. And he had sworn to you that nobody could ever hurt you again. So he had to stay, for you. He wished he could have expressed in this moment how much he appreciated you, how much he loved you, how he’d never thought he could love anyone, given his parents- how could someone coing from pure evil carry anything good inside him? But he did, you’d proved him wrong and he’d never stop being thankful for it. Even better, when you leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, he knew you understood, even without his words that would never manage to express his true feelings.

“I hope we find those clothes all again,” you said in a lighter tone, and Mattheo was thankful for it. “Not that Malfoy finds my bra or something.”

Your nose wrinkled in disgust and he laughed quietly, rubbing his nose against your temple affectionately. “Don’t you worry, they’ll know what we did anyway. Don’t think anyone could’ve missed those screams of yours, princess.”

Instead of blushing or looking alarmed, Mattheo was surprised to find you smiling sheepishly. “About that… I think I’ll have to disappoint you.” Biting down on your lower lip, you glanced at the door. “I might have put a muffliato charm on your dorm.”

“No,” Mattheo said disbelievingly, pinching a roll of your stomach and making you squeak. But he knew you weren’t lying. “When’d you do that?”

Now, there was the slightest tint of pink on your cheeks as you shrugged. “When you sent the others out. I thought… just in case…”

“fucking genuis, my girl,” he muttered into your hair and couldn't find it within himself to be irritated at you. “And here i was thinking the whole of the dungeons had heard what a good time you had tonight. No matter,” he smirked, looking back at you and examining the work he’d done on your neck and throat. “You still have the hickeys to show tomorrow.” Mattheo would gladly admit that he took pleasure in the way your eyes widened and you scrambled up in search of a mirror.

When you swung your legs over the bed to stand, however, they wobbled so hard you plopped right back down onto the mattress. Your thighs were still quivering with the last aftershocks and felt about as stable as cooked spaghetti. You glared at him when he laughed and pointed your finger at his face. “This is your fault.”

“Indeed it is,” he admitted and sat up as well, patting your bare hip. “‘m sure you’ll manage though.”

You gaped at him in indignation. “You’re not gonna help me?” When he grinned at you, you groaned, exasperated, and rose to your feet hesitantly, wobbling carefully over to the bathroom.

“‘M gonna pick your clothes up,” he said, getting to his feet as well and grabbing a pair of sweatpants to pull on. “Not that Malfoy actually finds your bra, I’d hate to have to explain to his mother why I gauged his eyes out.”

“You’re deranged!” he heard you call from the bathroom, but he could detect the smile in your voice. When you reemerged, he let his eyes run over your bare form, satisfied with his work.

You cleared your throat. “Can I have my clothes back?”

“No need,” he shrugged, storing the heap of clothes that belonged to yours in one of his drawers. “You can borrow one of my shirts.” When he caught your confused expression, he raised his brows at you. “What, you think I’m gonna let you walk back to Gryffindor Tower past curfew in your condition? You’re sleeping here tonight.”

“And your friends?” you asked hesitantly, and he flashed you a grin that could be mean no good. “Will keep their eyes to themselves if they like them.”

Once you’d pulled his shirt over your head, you slipped under the covers and Mattheo placed a soft kiss on your temple before leaving the room to notify his friends that they were allowed in again. You could still hear your heart beating in your ears amd had to suppress a squeal when the realization of what you’d just done hit you. In order to seem like a well adjusted person, you buried your head in Mattheo’s pillow and breathed in his scent. It was almost like having him here again, and you considered asking him whether you could switch pillows in the future.

But that was talk for tomorrow. How you’d get to class was talk for tomorrow. How the fuck you’d cover up the battlefield Mattheo had left on your neck was a talk for tomorrow.

After a few minutes, you heard several footsteps outside and looked up from Mattheo’s pillow. He was the one to push the door open, and his eyes softened considerably when he saw you laying in his bed, under his sheets. Behind him, the other boys trailed in, all of whom, you noticed, were purposefully avoiding to look at you directly. Malfoy seemed to be pissed about something, and you didn't have to wonder what, and Lorenzo smiled at you again, only to raise his hands in surrender when Mattheo sent him a withering glare.

Turning back to you, a smile tugged at his lips and once more, you were taken aback by his quick mood changes. Without another word, he slipped in beside you, turning his back on the room to hide you from sight and wrapped his arms around you. His breathing was calm against your ear as his chest rose and fell against your back and his smell engulfed you whole. You found yourself relaxing completely in his arms, all tension leaving your body as you leaned into him and he pressed another kiss to your temple.

“Sleep, princess,” he murmured against your skin and you nodded, resting your head against him, clasping his hand around your belly with your own and letting sleep consume you, knowing you were the safest in his arms.

a/n: thank you all so much for sticking around till the end and going on this ride with me, I hope you liked it! 🫶

taglist: @aespaslut @kricketwritesstories @catching-fire-in-the-wind @a-little-funny @thejediprincess56 @polireader @voidangxls @artsyle @nkvgt @ashrocker123 @chimchoom @onlytenkos @yvonne-dump @alwayslatetothefandoms @ravisinghs-wife @eneywey @viylikecats @darksss5516 @cocosparkel @stereading @helendeath @workof-a-rr-t @k0z3me @nottriddlethis @urfavetheaterkid16

#harry potter #harry potter x reader #slytherin boys #slytherin boys x reader #mattheo x you #mattheoxreader #mattheo x y/n #mattheo riddle x y/n #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo x reader #mattheo riddle #mattheo #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo fluff #mattheo smut #mattheo imagine #mattheo angst #mattheo riddle series

639 notes · View notes

megalony · 9 months ago

Text

Can't You Be Mine

As promised, this is my newest Evan Buckley imagine and I have a follow up planned if anyone is interested.

Let me know what you think.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra8484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @shelbygeek @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana

@shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @ml572 @jessie-lynn28 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700 @ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits

Evan Buckley Masterlist

Part 2

You're Mine Now (Spin-off)

Summary: Evan has a great relationship with (Y/n)'s little girl, Minnie. So good, in fact, that at preschool, she starts telling everyone that her dad is a firefighter.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A grin spread across Evan's features when he pulled up outside the preschool. He unclipped his belt and tilted his head to the right, looking across at his little 'passenger princess' as he had come to call her recently.

Minnie had a cheesy smile on her face that glistened in the sunlight, illuminating the streaks of syrup covering her lips and chin and most likely her hands too.

Her hair was tied up in a bobble with a dark red bow in the centre of her head which always acted as a beacon. Evan could always spot her when he was dropping her off or picking her up due to the bows and clips she liked to have in her hair.

"Alright, let's clean up quick."

He leaned across to fish out the pack of wipes he had in the glove box while his heart gave out an extra beat when he noticed what Minnie was doing. She had her arms pinned to her chest but her hands held out in front of her, waiting very patiently and doing her best not to touch anything. She didn't want to get syrup all over the car, especially not when Evan told her the pancakes they got on the way to school were a secret.

Of course, (Y/n) knew they would pick something up on their way, they always did. (Y/n) knew one of them would end up letting slip what they had got on their way to school and work and half the time it was Evan who let slip what they had.

He swiped the sticky golden splotches from Minnie's hands and dabbed at her mouth before he kissed her nose.

Evan loved bringing her to school but he loved to pick her up even more because then he got to see her run out into the playground and make a beeline for him. He adored seeing Minnie run over to him with her arms out and a bright smile on her face, it made his day ten times better.

"Okay," He murmured to himself, cleaning himself up too before he grabbed the rubbish and climbed out the jeep, tossing everything in the bin on his way. "Ready?"

He unclipped Minnie's belt and scooped her out of the car seat, easing her down to her feet and helping her slide her backpack over her shoulders.

He loved that he didn't even have to say anything and she would automatically reach up and take his much larger hand in her own. Her fingers squeezed into his palm and she started to sway their hands back and forth as Evan guided them across the path towards the gates.

"You picking me up today?" The four year old tilted her head back and squinted in the bright sun to look up at Evan.

Her toothy grin melted his heart and had him beaming a smile back down at her. He wished he was picking her up, he would pick her up every day from school if he could, but he was going to work in ten minutes and he would be on a double shift. He wouldn't be finished until tomorrow morning so he wasn't going to see Minnie until tomorrow afternoon when she came home from school.

"Not today, mouse. Your mum's gonna pick you up, but I'll pick you up tomorrow if you want."

The nickname rolled off the tongue without Evan needing to think about it. He had come accustomed to calling her mouse, after Minnie Mouse, and he knew if he ever called her by her name, she thought she was in trouble because she was so used to petnames from Evan.

The four year old had attached herself to Evan from the moment they met and he couldn't of been happier.

Evan had been a little bit apprehensive going into a relationship with (Y/n) because all the other girls he'd dated had never had kids. He loved kids, he was a natural at looking after kids, but this was new territory for Evan. He had been worried that Minnie wouldn't want him around.

With (Y/n) being a single mum, Minnie wasn't used to her mum having a boyfriend or having a father figure around and Evan worried that she wouldn't want him being that father figure in her life.

She took them both by surprise. If Evan didn't pick her up from school she would pout and wobble her lower lip. If he wasn't round to have tea with them or if he couldn't put her to bed, she would stomp her foot and have a tantrum. If she thought (Y/n) was getting more attention she would get grumpy and if (Y/n) got a kiss, Minnie would pout and wait until Evan kissed her too.

And she had easily wormed her way into Evan's heart. He was forever telling the team about her and had dozens of photos of both his girls on his phone.

His favourite was the one of Minnie trying to wear his uniform. She had found his uniform when she and (Y/n) came over for dinner at the loft. Safe to say, Evan found her wearing his boots and his shirt that drowned her frame and he had to take a picture.

"Okay," Minnie leaned her head against Evan's leg, itching her temple against the scratchy material of his starched trousers.

Evan slowed down when they approached the gates, but he knew their routine by now. He didn't necessarily have to walk Minnie through the gates, her classroom was ten feet in front of the gates next to the playground. He could stand at the gates and see her safely into class.

But that never happened. Every time he dropped her off, Minnie would walk him through the gates like she was the adult safely escorting him to school. Only when they were right near the classroom door would she let go of his hand and say goodbye.

He let her drag him through the gates, smiling happily as the little girl led him towards the playground. They were a few minutes early today and her class was out in the play area, all milling about and burning off energy until the teacher would call them inside.

"Okay now I won't see you until tomorrow. Try not to miss me too much," He crouched down in front of her, letting go of her hand so he could hold her sides instead.

The whine she let out made his smile dampen but at least she didn't cry. She pushed forward and looped her arms around his neck, leaning against his chest for a hug.

"Bye bye." She broke off in a fit of giggles when Evan started to press sloppy kisses against her cheek to brighten her up.

"Bye girlie," He pressed a lasting kiss to her temple before he pushed up and headed back out the gates. He looked back over his shoulder, as always, and found Minnie waving at him with a toothy grin and creased eyes.

Minnie's shoulders sagged and her head lolled to one side as she looked around the playground.

She liked school, but she wasn't the most interactive or social child in the room. It worried (Y/n) that Minnie would rather sit on a table by herself and colour or do games on her own than with the other kids. The four year old started to panic when the teachers tried to get her to join in with everyone else. She was better with one on one where she interacted with one friend at a time otherwise she seemed to become overwhelmed and recluse herself.

She stayed watching through the fence as Evan hopped in the jeep, giving her one last wave before he pulled away. When he was gone, her lips pressed into a big pout and she turned around.

Her beady eyes landed on Amber, one of the girls in her class who she felt more comfortable sitting and talking to.

She headed over towards Amber and flopped down on her bum next to her as Amber was doodling on the pavement with chalk. There was another boy from their class, Miles, sat chalking the floor and Tina was stood kicking at the stones, waiting to head inside.

For a few moments, Minnie sat quiet as the mouse she was named after and listened to the conversations floating around. Her hands tapped against her thighs and her head tilted to one side as she tried to keep up.

"My daddy builds things, like big buildings. He goes in big crane machines." Amber didn't look away from whatever creation she was doodling, but she moved her hands out at her sides to emphasise how big the machines were that her dad operated.

"My dad fixes things, like trains." Miles dropped the blue chalk he was holding, now bored of doing this. He wanted to go inside.

"What does your dad do?"

Minnie's lips formed another pout and she began bashing her hands against her legs to give herself something to do.

She didn't know.

She didn't have one. Minnie always found it strange when she started school that the other kids talked about their dads and said their dads lived with them and took them out or told them off or picked them up. It was strange because she didn't have one. All Minnie had was her mum and Evan, who (Y/n) always said was her boyfriend.

But surely, if he was her mum's boyfriend, that meant he was Minnie's dad, didn't it?

Couldn't Evan be her dad? He brought her to school and picked her up, just like Amber's dad. He took her out to the zoo with her new 'cousin Chris'. He stayed over a lot of nights and he stayed in her mum's room. He cooked and played games with Minnie, he helped her get dressed and tucked her into bed. Sometimes he would tell her off like Miles's dad, though not often because Minnie prided herself on being good.

Evan did all the things the other dads did, so that had to make him Minnie's dad. Plus, they were going to live together soon. (Y/n) and Evan had already sat Minnie down and said they were all going to live in a house together soon and they were all packing their things up, ready for when they moved next month.

"My daddy's a fireman." Minnie kept her eyes on the chalk on the floor as her tummy fluttered and her legs began to jitter.

Well, that was what Evan did and he seemed to be her dad, for all intents and purposes. And that was what Minnie wanted. She wasn't sure if her friends chose their mums or their dads or if that was how this was supposed to work, but Minnie chose Evan.

"Does he drive the big trucks?"

Her words seemed to spark Miles's interest and he stopped fidgeting to pay attention to her.

"Yeah. Daddy had the truck fall on his leg."

"No he didn't."

A deep frown set in Minnie's features. Her nose scrunched up and her brows furrowed until she could barely see and her lips curled into the biggest pout she'd ever made. Her little hands planted down on her thighs as she huffed.

"Did too! I've seen the scar, he had pins and bolts in his leg." She wasn't fibbing. She had seen Evan's legs whenever he wore shorts when he stayed with them or when he took her swimming.

On the back of his left leg, he had a massive scar going from the back of his knee right down to his foot. It was a streaky white colour and as wide as Minnie's thumb that could trace the indent it caused in his skin like the formations of a crack in the road.

She was enamoured by the small lines that streaked horizontally across his scar from the stitches and she had seen the little circular scars where he'd had pins inserted into the bone to keep it in tact. Minnie didn't quite understand why he still had his leg considering such a big truck had landed on it, but she was satisfied when Evan just told her he was very lucky.

"Wow." Miles seemed satisfied by her answer and Minnie managed to smile, her frown washing away just as the bell rang and Miss Harvey came over to usher them all inside.

***

"Are you ready?" (Y/n) let her eyes scan around the group of children all piling off the minibus, but her sight kept falling back to her daughter stood at her side.

She felt Minnie take hold of her hand and tuck herself up against her mum's leg like she wanted to blend in and hide herself away.

(Y/n) was glad she had signed up for this little fieldtrip. She dreaded to think what Minnie would be like if she wasn't here. The preschool seemed to take the kids on lots of different outings and activities and parents were encouraged to sign up as chaperones and (Y/n) was more than happy to do that. Especially since Minnie was struggling with including herself and wanting to join in.

If she wasn't here, (Y/n) had a feeling Minnie would of thrown a tantrum about going on this trip or she might have attached to one of the other mums here and not left their side.

Their group- consisting of fifteen children, three parents including (Y/n), and two teachers- all walked down the path until they were in front of the large brick building with bright red shutters and signs attached.

"And this is the fire station we're visiting today." Miss Harvey beckoned all the kids to stand close together with the parents hovering them towards the wall and away from the road.

(Y/n) looked down when she felt Minnie give a small tug on her hand, although the four year old had her eyes set on the station like it was a beacon coming out of the darkness.

"Station, like where Buck works?"

"Yep." She squeezed Minnie's hand with an encouraging smile. She had chosen not to tell Minnie where they were going or which station, when they talked this morning. It seemed safer not to in case Minnie got too overexcited or in case this trip didn't go ahead for some reason.

And (Y/n) hadn't told Evan either so it would be a surprise for both of them when they walked in.

She kept Minnie tucked into her side and also kept an eye on the other two girls who were staying close by, Amber and Tina. They seemed to want to talk and interact with Minnie, but Minnie wasn't so keen. She just wanted to stay with (Y/n) and only talk to her mum.

They all followed Miss Harvey inside and (Y/n) took a moment to look around, almost in wonder as much as the kids. She had never been in a fire station before. Despite being with Evan for a year now, she had yet to turn up here. That didn't mean she hadn't met his friends, or his 'work family' as he called them, (Y/n) had met just about everyone who was important to Evan, but actually being here made all his stories come alive.

They were all guided to a large space between two fire trucks and all the kids were kindly told to sit down on the floor in the middle of the trucks.

"Okay kids, this is Captain Nash. He's in charge here and he's going to talk to you about what they do here."

Once Miss Harvey moved to the left and motioned towards Bobby, (Y/n) moved her hands and motioned for Minnie and Amber to sit down in the third row.

A gasp tumbled past Minnie's lips and she suddenly tugged on (Y/n)'s hand before she tried to rush to the side. (Y/n) followed her line of sight while she wrapped both arms around her daughter and reeled her back into her chest to stop her from running off.

"Baby, come on we need to sit down-"

"Buck! It's Buck." She wriggled from left to right, doing her best to get out of her mother's arms but it didn't work. (Y/n) sat her down and knelt behind her, keeping hold of her like they were just having a cuddle when really, she was preventing her daughter from running around the station like the Tazmanian Devil.

"You can see him after the Captain's talked to everyone," (Y/n) hushed in her ear, wincing when Minnie all but huffed and crossed her arms.

But she stayed seated on the floor, pressing her chin into her chest while she tried to focus on what the Captain was saying. It was hard. Minnie couldn't concentrate despite his soft voice and his warm smile. She wanted to go and see Buck.

Evan tossed the cleaning rag over his shoulder and stepped away from the ambulance when he heard the ruckus. That meant the kids were here.

It wasn't often that they got schools coming by to visit the station, it was normally them turning up at schools to give safety talks and lectures. He figured this was better for the kids. Out of their usual environment, somewhere new to look around and explore and this way, they got to see the trucks and the ambulance and see what it looked like inside a real station.

He crossed one leg over the other and leant against a pillar next to Eddie who was stood with his hands in his pockets and a soft smile on his face.

Once Eddie turned and noticed who it was behind him, he grinned and lightly jabbed his elbow into Evan's chest before pointing towards the group of kids all sat on the floor.

"You never said it was Minnie's class coming in today."

"What?" Evan pushed up off the pillar, standing back on his feet properly as his shoulders straightened and his back clicked into place.

Minnie's class? She was here? (Y/n) never mentioned it. She never said Minnie was going on a trip today, or that it would be a trip to his very own station. Come to think of it, Minnie hadn't said anything either and if Evan knew her like he thought he did, he knew that she would of been screaming in his ear that she was going to come and visit him today. He would of been waiting by the door if he knew.

His eyes scoured the three rows of preschool kids all sat quietly, barely any of them moving, all enamoured by Bobby's speech and how he was beginning to point and describe the anatomy of the trucks.

Sure enough, Evan's beady eyes landed on not only Minnie but (Y/n) as well. They were knelt in the back row on the end and Minnie was leaning back into (Y/n) like she was desperate to wriggle out of her mum's hold and run around the station.

"I didn't know," Evan whispered softly, barely turning his head in Eddie's direction because he couldn't look away from his girls.

The moment Minnie looked in his direction and realised he was looking at her, her whole face lit up. She smiled and her eyes shone like stars and she started to wriggle again. She sat up straight and squared her shoulders, moving to wave frantically in his direction until a grin broke out on Evan's face and he silently waved back.

Evan's original plan had been to hang somewhere out the way and then come down when Bobby had finished his speech. He had it in mind that he would come down and interact with the kids for a bit and then see them off. But now he knew Minnie was here, he couldn't find it in himself to disappear.

He stood next to Eddie, both of them only half listening to Bobby. Evan began to tap his foot, suddenly impatient for Bobby to finish so he could go over and talk to his girls.

Bobby couldn't have finished a moment too soon but he waved Hen over to have a quick chat to the group since she was a medic as well as a firefighter.

(Y/n) took that as her moment. She leaned forward and kissed Minnie's cheek, whispering in her ear quietly. "Let me go talk to Buck, then when Hen's finished, he's all yours. Okay?"

Minnie bubbled up excitedly and nodded, but she wouldn't look away from Hen just yet. Now she was interested just before the speeches were going to end.

Moving her hands to her knees, (Y/n) slowly pushed up from the floor that had turned her legs to jelly and made her knees harden like stone. She could feel her back clicking into place once she was up and she took a glance around the group before she moved towards Evan. Miss Harvey was stood near Bobby and the other two parents were stood off to one side, murmuring and smiling with Chimney. It would be fine for (Y/n) to talk to Evan, she would still be within close range of the kids in case they needed her.

(Y/n) ran her hand through her hair and moved over towards Evan who took a few steps away from Eddie to meet her at the side of the truck.

She noticed his eyes do a quick sweep around the station, making sure no one else - or the kids- were watching before he looped his arms around her waist and reeled her into his chest.

He ducked his head down and stole a kiss from her lips before she had chance to panic and look around as if they were teens trying not to get caught in school. His lips tasted like cherry cola and his fingers felt heavenly, squeezing into her hips while his chest leaned down into hers like he was trying to tilt (Y/n) backwards or lay her down on the floor.

She brought her hands up to cup the sides of his neck, smoothing her thumbs up and down behind his ears until he was shivering.

Their temples pressed together when they parted and the grin that lit up his face made Evan look like one of the school kids. A quiet "Hi," whispered from his lips into hers and he nudged the end of his nose along hers until (Y/n) was smiling and shaking her head.

"You didn't tell me you were coming here."

"It was a surprise."

"Well colour me surprised… I bet you didn't tell Minnie either, did you?" The hint of a smirk pulled at his lips while he let go of her hips so he could loop his arms fully around her waist and tug her closer until every ridge of her body was pressed up against him.

"Course I didn't, she'd of been screaming your name all day if I told her." As much as (Y/n) loved her daughter's enthusiasm, she didn't think everyone would appreciate Minnie's hyperness if she knew they were coming to see Evan.

The four year old would have been bouncing off the walls, telling everyone and proudly shouting Evan's name until they got here. At least this way both she and Evan got a lovely surprise and it stopped Minnie from getting worked up like a sugar rush.

"Well, I'm glad you're all at our station. I'll show you round in a bit." He leaned forward and pecked her temple, smiling to himself when (Y/n) buried her head beneath his chin and kissed his neck causing a shiver to roll down his spine.

He kept her burrowed away into his chest for a few more seconds, savouring the moment until he noticed Hen had finished her talk and the kids were starting to get up.

He knew Minnie would be heading their way any second now and then Evan would happily show her and a few of the kids around and answer any of their strange questions. He let his arms loosen around (Y/n) just enough for her to spin around in his hold so her back was snuggled into his chest and both of them were looking at the kids.

Minnie was stood with two other kids while the rest of them split up into groups and followed after Hen or Bobby.

Her hands began to itch at her sides and she couldn't stop herself from smiling when she looked over towards her mum and Evan. He was here. This was where he worked. This was the fire truck he drove and maybe the one that landed on his leg too. This was his other home that he was always telling her about.

"Is that your dad, the fireman?" Amber kept her chin tilted down and feebly pointed towards Evan. She had seen him with Minnie at school a few times, and Minnie did tell them last week that her dad was a fireman.

A beaming smile lit up Minnie's face as a rush of adrenaline flooded her stomach and she began to fidget from foot to foot. She nodded and pointed over at Evan which caught his attention and made him smile in her direction. And he watched as Minnie trotted towards him, both Amber and Miles in tow behind her.

"Yeah. That's my daddy."

Evan couldn't breathe.

All the air in his lungs suddenly evaporated; his lungs turned into balloons which popped and shrivelled up in his chest. His jaw hung open and his lips became dryer than the desert, but he couldn't find anything to say.

Minnie had never called him that before. When they first met, she used to call him Mister quite a lot, then when they became closer, she started calling him Buck. Even though she heard (Y/n) call him Evan, she never tried to call him that, it had always been Buck so far. She had never called him dad before or pointed him out and named him her dad to other people.

But what else could he be? What else could she call him when she saw him almost every day? He took her to school, he picked her up when she fell over, he tucked her in bed and took her out and went to the doctors with her and (Y/n). He introduced her to everyone as his 'little mouse' or 'my girl'.

And just a few weeks ago after Minnie commented that he was always telling (Y/n) that he loved her, he started to tell Minnie he loved her too. He never wanted to say that before in case it upset her or made her feel uneasy but just seeing her face light up when he told her, meant the whole world to Evan.

"My turn." Minnie held her arms out towards Evan, suddenly breaking him out of his trance.

He realised he was shaking when he unravelled his arms from (Y/n) who looked like she was on the verge of tears. Her hand moved to his shoulder while he leaned down and scooped Minnie up so he could cuddle her into his chest.

Her arms looped around his neck and Evan breathlessly kissed her cheek while he did his best to ward off the burning sensation behind his eyes that were threatening to spill tears. God, he hoped Minnie wasn't just saying this because her friends were nearby. He hoped that when he got home from work tonight, she would still call him that.

He hoped tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after, that Minnie was still going to call him her dad. He hoped she would introduce him to everyone as her dad. He could just see himself telling people he had a little girl, he could imagine showing the guys her picture and proudly saying that was his daughter.

"Hi, are you being good, little mouse?" He kissed her cheek again when she wrapped her arms around his neck and snuggled in close to him as she nodded and hummed.

His eyes darted from Minnie to (Y/n) when he suddenly realised that maybe, (Y/n) might not be happy about this sudden revelation.

Evan remembered the conversation they had not long after they started dating. He remembered every word of that chilling conversation where (Y/n) told him about Minnie's biological dad. Minnie had never met him, he didn't even know she existed.

Minnie had been the reason (Y/n) got out of her abusive relationship with her ex. She managed to get away from him and moved in with her sister until she found a place of her own. And Evan remembered everything (Y/n) told him about what her ex had done. There was no way (Y/n) could stay with him if she had Minnie and to protect Minnie, (Y/n) hadn't named anyone in the father's section on her birth certificate.

It suddenly occurred to Evan that maybe (Y/n) wouldn't be happy about this. Maybe she wouldn't want Minnie to have a dad or call someone her dad. But Minnie had never known her dad, she had grown up thinking she just didn't have one and that had been fine until Evan walked into their lives and changed their perspectives.

But the way (Y/n) smiled and the single tear that rolled down her face told Evan she wasn't displeased at all. She was thrilled.

She stood close to Amber and Miles in case they had any questions or wanted to go and take a look around. But Miles took a step forward towards Evan and gingerly tugged on his trouser leg to gain his attention.

"Did a truck really land on your leg?"

Surprise flooded Evan's eyes and his jaw hung loose again while he tried to think how to respond to that. But all that came to mind was the fact that clearly, Minnie had been talking about him. She had been telling her friends what Evan did for a living and about his accident. Clearly she loved him enough to want to brag about him and talk about him to her class. and that thought melted Evan's heart.

Evan looked between Minnie who had her cheek pressed into his shoulder, and the young boy who was staring at both his legs intently. He looked like he wanted to pull on Evan's trousers and peek beneath them at his legs. And Evan would bet that the young boy thought Evan might have some kind of prosthetic.

"Uh, yeah, yeah it did." He nodded and leaned backwards a little so Minnie could rest better against his chest.

"Wow. So- so you're like superman?"

"Well, not qui-"

"Yeah he is! Show him your leg, daddy." Minnie wriggled around in his arms, shimmying down his chest a little until she could grab at the waistband of his trousers.

For a dreaded second, Evan thought she was going to undo his belt and try to pull his pants down to show his scar. But she only tugged on his pant leg to get him to take the hint. She wanted him to pull the pant leg up so he could show Miles his scars.

Evan rolled his lips together to supress a smile and juggled Minnie in his right arm so that he could scrunch his trouser leg up in his other hand. He pulled it up towards his knee, showing just enough of his tattered, scarred leg to make Miles gasp and grin like he'd seen one of the seven wonders of the world.

The young boy simply stared at Evan's leg, unable to look away even when Evan rolled down his trouser leg again.

He carefully leaned forward and planted Minnie back down on her feet, but when she clutched his hand and held it to her chest, he smiled. He stayed slightly stooped over so she could keep hold of him while (Y/n) looked between Miles and Amber.

"Alright, who wants to look round the fire trucks?"

When the pair of them nodded, (Y/n) guided them over towards Miss Harvey and Bobby who were with five other kids looking round the first fire truck. She noticed Hen guide the other half of the class towards the ambulance to let them take a look around and show them what each appliance and equipment piece was.

Once the pair of them were back with the group, following Bobby's lead like he had put them all under a trance, (Y/n) slowly headed back over to Evan and Minnie. Her hands moved up and down her sides to try and remain calm, but she didn't know what to do with herself.

Minnie had never asked about her dad before, and (Y/n) had always been grateful. She was always relieved her daughter never wondered why she didn't seem to have a father figure or why she didn't have a dad to come and visit her and take her out like other kids. She seemed content just to have (Y/n).

And she had been so happy that Minnie took to Evan so easily and attached herself to him. But somehow, (Y/n) still didn't think that Minnie would want to call Evan her dad, not yet anyway.

She smiled as she approached them and crouched down in front of Minnie who was still clinging to Evan's hand that she seemed to have confiscated and pinned to her chest.

Her hands reached out to hold Minnie's waist and tug her closer while Evan shimmied his hand out of her hold so he could rest his hand on her back instead.

"So… you, you've got a new name for Buck?" When Minnie didn't answer, Evan crouched down beside her so they were all level.

"You've never called me that before, mouse."

The way she looked down at her shoes made Evan's heart flip. She looked so sweet, so innocent and worried as if she thought she might have done something wrong by calling him her dad. It would never be something bad in their eyes, but both (Y/n) and Evan would have thought they would of gotten some warning first. Which made them wonder why Minnie had suddenly come out with it today of all days.

"Everyone was talking about their dads, so… so can't you be mine?" Minnie shifted a little so she could go back to holding Evan's hand and she started to sway it back and forth between them like their hands were some kind of swing or a toy to be entertained.

For a few seconds, Evan focused on controlling his breathing so he didn't go into a fluttering panic. And he looked to the left, locking his eyes on (Y/n) so he could gauge her face for a reaction.

This wasn't his question to answer, it was hers. He couldn't overstep the mark or set the boundaries, it had to be (Y/n)'s choice no matter how thrilled Evan was that Minnie clearly wanted this.

When (Y/n) nodded, Evan felt like his heart had exploded in his chest and a tingling sensation shot through his arms right down to his fingertips. He let a soft grin overtake his features and he reached out for Minnie, unhooking their hands so he could hold her sides and gently twist her in his direction.

"I'd love to."

He braced his knees and levelled his weight out in his boots when Minnie slammed into his chest and deadlocked her arms around his neck.

The sweetest smile (Y/n)had ever seen fluttered across Evan's lips and she couldn't help but lean forward to kiss that smile and see if it was as sweet and sugary as it looked. She smoothed her hand up and down his shoulder before she glanced over to the left when she heard Miss Harvey switching the groups around. They wouldn't be here for much longer before they all would be getting ready to leave.

"Let's go take a look at the trucks then, baby, let dad get back to work." It felt strange to say but somehow, it rolled off the tongue like magic.

"Off you go, I'll see you when I finish work tonight, okay?" Evan pecked her cheek when she finally untangled herself from him and he couldn't help but kiss her temple too as he pushed up to stand tall once again. He murmured a soft "See you soon," in (Y/n)'s ear, dancing his fingertips along her hip while he kissed her quick.

"Bye daddy," Minnie cast a quick look over her shoulder, one hand tangled with (Y/n)'s and her other hand waving across to Evan as if he couldn't spot her in the small crowd.

His smile brightened and his breaths came out shaky as he waved back at her, his other hand tucked into his pocket while he leaned back against the pillar.

Their fire house had been taken off all calls for two hours, dispatch was redirecting all calls to the nearby stations so no calls came through and disrupted the school fieldtrip. That meant Evan still had a while to mill about the station and tidy up or get a drink and amuse himself until the kids left and they were allowed to take calls again.

And it felt like a good thing that they weren't going out on any calls at the moment because Evan was running on a high. Adrenaline was fueling his system and he felt like he had taken an overdose with how lightheaded he was. It felt like he was walking on cloud nine and he didn't ever want to come down from this feeling.

The smile wouldn't leave his lips and his head tilted to one side while he watched both girls head back over to the group and follow Bobby who was showing them all the different compartments and aspects of the truck.

"What's got you smiling?" Chimney brought his cup of coffee to his lips and raised a brow when he looked up at Evan. There was an unusually happy smile on his face, even for him, and it had Chimney looking round the station to try and find out what was so funny.

But he wasn't prepared for the answer as Evan slouched down against the pillar, dipping his chin towards his chest as a blush started to taint his cheeks.

"My daughter."

#911 imagine #imagine #evan buckley #evan buckley x reader #evan buckley imagine #buck x reader #buck imagine #bobby nash

2K notes · View notes

devotedlyandrogynousyouth · 2 months ago

Note

Please please please bless me with more baby daddy Jason. I’m so obsessed with it 😭 just thought about if he caught you staring a little too long at him being a good father he would make fun of how sexy you find him and how you still want him

Oh, how this has lifted my mood after getting covid during the holiday season🙏I can totally see him getting cocky like that, too. Just imagine this man letting out a near-silent scoff as he catches your gaze wandering across his muscles as he picks up your daughter

BabyDaddy! Jason Todd Part 2

BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who doesn't actually bother you too much after that night you spent together. To your surprise, he doesn't expect much of anything in return. That moment simply turned into an unacknowledged secret that only the two of you would ever know about.

BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who still tries to show up to every little preschool function or birthday party your daughter has, despite the unspoken tension between you two. Despite what that little voice in your mind was screaming to do, you actually started inviting him to those kind of things. Typically, he would've just shown up unannounced.

BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who starts acting like your boyfriend or husband at parent-teacher conferences. On the rare occasion that the both of you show up to discuss your daughter with her teachers, they assume that you're together as a couple. Jason, ever the sly bastard, doesn't correct them.

You don't, either.

BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who actually starts playing into the role as soon as your 'relationship' gets brought up in public. If you happen to be sitting close enough, he'll grab your hand and start tracing invisible circles onto the back of it with his thumb. If you're really close, Jason will absolutely go as far as to sling an arm around your shoulders.

BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who is the biggest topic around the other single mothers at your daughter's daycare or preschool. Almost every time he makes an appearance, somebody asks for his number or tries to make small talk. He giggles like an idiot every time you have to scold him for giving them all the rejection hotline number.

BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who, when he does get asked about relationships by other women at your daughter's childcare facilities, will say that you're together in a committed relationship with no hesitation. He isn't really sure why he does it, either. It only really came about after you two slept together a few months ago.

To be fair, you do call Jason your boyfriend when a creepy guy asks you out.

BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who starts hanging out with you casually when he gets the chance. You've ripped him a new one a few too many times when telling him to keep out of excessive danger. What better way to spend his off time now that he doesn't do huge missions than being with his two favorite girls?

BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who somehow manages to blend right back into your life when he puts vigilante work to the side a little. He's there to pick up your daughter from day care or playdates when you need him to. He's cooking dinner for you and the little one on a rough day before you even have to ask.

BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who knows exactly how you feel about him. He sees the way your eyes linger as he stands in your kitchen cooking or how your gaze drifts to his biceps as he picks up your daughter to bring her to bed. "Eyes are up here, sweetness," is what he teases every time he catches your stares.

BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who is knocking on your door mere minutes after you've texted or called him having a breakdown when your daughter is at a sleepover. He doesn't even care what you're crying about, you're scooped up into his arms instantly. "Shhh... I have you," is one of the constant reassurances he mutters into your hair, "I'm right here. You're not alone."

BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who has you practically sitting on his lap as he holds you, his calloused hands rubbing up and down your back in a soothing motion. You don't even remember when the slipped under the hem of your (his old) shirt to rub gently at your bare skin.

BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who listens to you talk, no matter how stupid or silly your problems seem whe compared to his own. He knows better than to give advice other than when you ask for it, so he simplu holds you and listens. "I know, I know..." Is all he coos into your slightly mussed hair as his hands rub and massage your skin.

BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who waits until you're done speaking to move or say anything. "Look, baby..." You hate how much you still love the petname, "I know it's tough. Trust me, I know." You hate how you love him. "But I'm here, alright? I... I'm sorry I have a tendency to walk out on both of you, but... I'm here now. I'm here as whatever you need me to be. If you need me to stay for you and her, I will. If you need me to leave, I'll go without another thought."

"If you want to forget about what happened the other night, then we'll both forget about it. If you don't want to..." You didn't let him finish, instead capturing his slightly parted lips with your own.

BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who only pulls away when you do, the pupils of his beautiful green eyes dilated as he looks down at you in his lap. His hands never cease their movement caressing the fat and muscles of your back as he lets out a soft huff of amusement. "You're absolutely crazy getting involved with me voluntarily, doll face." Even as he tries to play it off, you can hear the affection and fondness in his voice.

BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who takes his time with you instead of rutting into you like an uncaged animal. His hands are slow as they roam across your body, relearning every single one of your curves and crevices like it's the first time he's seen your naked body. Each motion is filled with such care and adoration that you question why you ever split up, even if just for a moment.

BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who takes every single ounce of your stress away without trying. It doesn't matter that he's only slept with you once or twice in the past couple of years, he's drawing out every single orgasm he can from your pretty little pussy.

BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who says the nastiest things when hooking up with you. He absolutely gets off on the thought of getting you pregnant again, but he knows better after thinking about the situation the two of you are in. "You're fucking milking me for all I've got, ma," he grunts out as he pounds you relentlessly from behind, his large hands almost dwarfing your hips as he holds them for leverage, "I'm gonna fill this pussy up all over again. You'd like that, huh? You want another little me running around this joint?"

BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who, surprisingly, stays the morning after. It isn't picture perfect- nothing ever is- but it's still... Calm. Peaceful. Home. Like something you've never gotten with him before. The pair of you are still completely in the nude, your bodies tangled beneath the mess of sheets. But as your eyes flutter open with the first rays of morning light, the sight of Jason with small clumps of black and white hair stuck to his forehead from the previous night feels right.

BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who starts sticking around for a few days at a time after that. You're not sure just how it happened, but your daughter certainly loves it. She missed her daddy being around more often instead of being told that he was 'on a work trip' when it wasn't safe for Jason to see her.

BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who doesn't miss a beat when your sweet, innocent daughter asks if he's staying this time and if mommy will stay too. "Of course I am, baby girl," Jason, of course, makes direct eye contact with you as he says this before lifting the toddler into his lap. "Promise?" A smile. An actual, genuine smile that only she can get from him. "Promise."

How could you possibly say no to that?

Masterlist

914 notes · View notes

justabigassnerd · 8 months ago

Text

Come Home To Us

Pairing - Tim Bradford x reader

Word count - 4,748

Warnings - angst, inaccurate hospital/police scenes, mentions of suicide, viruses, brief mention of Tim's father, swearing, mentions of Tim getting shot

Summary - Tim liked to keep his personal and work life separate, although a certain event was about to change that

A/N - hey y'all this was an anon request that was an honour to write and I will forever push the girl dad Tim agenda I'm not sorry in the slightest. anyways I won't ramble but as per y'all, please send in requests, feedback, and enjoy!!!

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

Most of the Mid-Wilshire Police Department only knew Tim Bradford as the hard-ass training officer who never cracked a smile. They would see someone who had the toughest exterior known to man and assumed he was the same outside of work. But in actuality, Tim had a secret that very few knew about. And that secret was about to come out.

“Good morning, Tim.” Your sweet voice says softly as Tim blinks his eyes open, a smile coming to his face as his eyes lock with yours.

“Good morning, Baby,” Tim replies, instantly reaching across to wrap an arm around your waist, tugging you close so he can press a soft kiss to your lips as you giggle.

“You’re up earlier than usual.” Tim then muses with a light laugh as he notices the time on the clock behind you, knowing you always woke up after his alarm went off.

“Your daughter wanted a glass of water and who am I to deny her what she wants?” You reply, curling into Tim as he presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“My daughter?” Tim asks, an amused tone to his voice, pulling away enough to be able to look down at you.

“She wakes up at the crack of dawn most mornings. She gets that from you.” You laugh, watching as Tim lets out a gentle laugh before giving you another soft kiss.

“Momma! Daddy!” You glance over your shoulder to see your little girl Mia rushing into your room, and you open up your arms to catch her when she launches herself onto yours and Tim’s shared bed.

“Good morning, Sweetheart.” Tim greets Mia with a smile as she clambers from your embrace to Tim’s, giggling as he peppers her face with kisses. You couldn’t help but smile as you watched Tim and Mia interact. You remembered how in your early stages of pregnancy, Tim had been terrified, he was scared he was going to end up like his own father or that something would happen to him and leave you alone with a baby to take care of. But the moment Mia was born and he held her in his arms for the first time, Tim knew that he would go through hell and back to protect his little girl. He wanted to give her the whole world and more. You saw how Tim took to being Mia’s dad easily, he loved her like it was breathing and he made sure he was a present parent in her life.

“Can I have breakfast, please?” Mia asks, looking between you and Tim with the puppy dog eyes that melted you both down in seconds.

“Let’s get you ready for preschool first, then we’ll make breakfast,” Tim says, scooping Mia up into his arms, and sitting her on his hip as he gets out of bed. As he takes Mia back to her room to get her ready for the day, you get up and begin to change yourself, readying yourself for the day before heading out to the kitchen to begin making breakfast.

“Momma! Daddy said I could help make breakfast!” Mia comes hurtling into the kitchen, excitedly looking up at you as you laugh.

“Of course, you can help, Sweetie. What would you like for breakfast?” You ask, finding the little stepstool so that Mia can reach the kitchen counter to assist you in making breakfast.

“Cereal please.” She requests as you nod, already handing her one of her favourite princess bowls. Mia reaches up to the cupboard you kept the cereal in while you watched carefully. Mia was only five years old but she was already growing in her independence, and you knew she got that from Tim. Despite that, she was the sweetest little soul who loved and cared for everyone around her and you couldn’t be prouder to have her as your daughter.

“You got it, Sweetie? Do you want me to grab you the milk?” You ask softly, resting your hand on Mia’s back as you watch her carefully pour some cereal into the bowl, her tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth in her concentration.

“Yes please, Momma,” Mia asks, satisfied with the amount of cereal she’s put in the bowl as she carefully places the box down. You press a soft kiss to the top of Mia’s head before heading over to the fridge to grab the milk for her as Tim enters the kitchen, smiling at you both and now dressed for the day.

“How’s breakfast making going?” Tim asks, crossing to you and capturing your lips in a soft kiss before letting you give the milk to Mia.

“You’re getting soft, you know?” You say with a laugh, thinking about the way Tim used to be when you first met him.

“Only for my family,” Tim says, hovering near Mia to supervise as she tries to pour the milk herself, eventually placing his hand on the carton and giving Mia a helping hand.

“I forget work doesn’t get the same privileges as us.” You tease, beginning to prep both your and Tim’s morning coffees, putting them into their respective travel mugs before making Mia’s packed lunch and filling a bottle with water for her.

As Mia eats her breakfast, Tim makes breakfast for you and him while you pack Mia’s bag with everything she’ll need for the day. You then join Tim and Mia at the table to eat your breakfast before noting the time when you’ve finished eating and tidied away.

“We should head out. Don’t want you to be late to preschool, do we?” You say, tickling Mia quickly, smiling as she squeals and squirms.

“Daddy, help!” Mia calls out for Tim to save her, making him scoop her up in his arms, holding her close as you laugh.

“I’ll protect you, Mia,” Tim says, holding her close as you roll your eyes jokingly.

“You can protect her by taking her to preschool, then.” You say, picking up Mia’s bag and holding it out towards Tim who takes it and slings the small strap over his shoulder.

“I can do that. Are you okay to collect her this afternoon?” Tim says, carrying Mia over to the shoe rack and helping her put her shoes on while you follow behind, grabbing your own work bag.

“Yeah, that’s perfectly fine.” You say, bending down as you gently brush Mia’s stray hair away from her face.

“Bye, Momma,” Mia says, throwing herself into your arms. You’re quick to hug her back, relishing the feeling of her clinging to you.

“Bye, Sweetie. I’ll see you this afternoon.” You whisper, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head before releasing her from the hug, straightening up to say goodbye to Tim.

“You’ll stay safe, won’t you? Come home to us?” You ask quietly so Mia doesn’t hear you.

“I always do. Nothing can stop me from coming home to you both.” Tim reassures you softly, placing his hands on your waist to pull you a little closer. He understood your fears, and he knew you’d been living with them for years. After Mia was born your worry only increased which made Tim all the more determined to get home to his family after every shift. And after the recent incident where Tim got shot, you worried about him even more.

“I love you.” You whisper softly just before Tim cups your face softly in his hands, pressing a kiss to your lips.

“I love you too.” He whispers after pulling away from the embrace, smiling down at you softly to reassure you that little bit more.

“Daddy, come on we need to go!” Mia’s little voice snaps you back to reality as she tugs on Tim’s jacket, making you both laugh.

“Okay, okay, you have a point. Let’s get going, Princess.” Tim says, taking Mia’s little hand in one hand while grabbing both his bag and hers with the other before heading out of the front door to take Mia to preschool and then head to work. A few minutes after Tim leaves, you grab your keys and bag then head out to your car so you can make your way to work. You worked at the local high school so you knew your day was going to be busy as you began the drive to work.

As you arrived at work you greeted your colleagues as you passed them in the corridors, making your way to your classroom, heading over to your desk and placing everything down so you can get on with your morning tasks. You spend time prepping your classes and making sure you’re ready for the day before your students begin to file into the room, all of them greeting you with a smile as they cross to their desks and settle in their seats.

The day progressed like any other, nothing you weren’t used to working in a high school. You taught your classes and caught up with your coworkers during lunch. Until your phone rang with an unknown number. Instantly filled with dread and assuming the worst, you excused yourself from your coworkers and accepted the call, walking to a quiet corner of the staff lounge.

“Hello?” You say into the phone, your throat drying up in anticipation of any bad news.

“Hello, is this Mrs. Bradford?” A nervous female voice asks.

“Yes, it is. Who am I speaking to?” You confirm before asking the woman on the other end of the line for her name.

“I’m Officer Lucy Chen. I’m Officer Bradford’s rookie.” Lucy introduced herself, pacing anxiously back and forth in front of the door she knew Tim was behind. You recognised Lucy’s name quickly as you recalled Tim talking about her.

“Is Tim okay?” Your voice was shaky as tears threatened to well up in your eyes. You knew Tim didn’t open up about his personal life to anyone at work outside of Angela and Wade so the fact he told his rookie about you was ringing alarm bells in your head.

“He- you know I’ll just let him tell you himself,” Lucy says, placing the phone by the gap under the door and putting you on speaker.

“Tim?” Your voice came through to the other room, making Tim perk up the slightest bit at hearing your voice.

“y/n?” Tim replies, making you let out a slight sigh of relief from hearing his voice, even if it was partially muffled.

“Tim, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” You ask, your fear evident in your voice as Tim leans his head back, resting it against the door.

“There’s been an incident. I don’t know if I’ll make it home tonight.” Tim says, trying to find the words to describe what’s going on without panicking you further.

“Tim, talk to me. What’s happened?” You plead, desperate for answers.

“Don’t tell anyone at work about this. But we found out there’s a group wanting to disperse a virus within the city. We tracked one of the weapons to this house after a guy picked it up by accident and he got sick and… he coughed on me. I’m quarantining in this room while we wait for the CDC but if I start showing any signs of the virus, I want to go out on my own terms. I don’t want to go through what I just saw this guy go through. I owe it to you to tell you that.” Tim says, and you feel a tear slip down your cheek at his words.

“No. You’ll be okay. You’re going to come home.” You say, lifting your free hand to wipe your tears away before anyone notices.

“But I might not. And I want you to be prepared for that outcome. Just promise me you’ll give Mia a hug from me and tell her I love her so much.” Tim says, fighting back the building tears at the thought of not seeing you or Mia again.

“You’ll tell her that yourself. Just hold on. You’ll be okay.” You beg, hoping that by some miracle the CDC will enter the room Tim is in and save him.

“I love you so much,” Tim murmurs softly.

“I love you too.” You whisper quietly in response.

“You go back to work, okay? I’ll have someone call you no matter what happens. I promise.” Tim says, and as much as you wanted to tell him no, to tell him that you wanted to come and sit with him and be by his side when he needed you. But you understood that he wanted you to keep busy, and for you to try not to worry about him too much, although that ship had already sailed.

“Okay. I love you.” You say, hearing Tim’s whispered response before you hang up the phone, wondering how you are going to get through the rest of the day with these thoughts in your head. You were thankful that after lunch you had a free period so you didn’t have to worry about teaching any classes and could focus on grading papers and making new lesson plans to get a head start. As you worked, you found your gaze being drawn towards the framed picture you have on your desk of you, Tim, and Mia. All you could do was hope that Tim would be okay, you had no idea how you’d tell Mia if anything happened to Tim. Mia was the biggest daddy’s girl and you knew it would crush her if you had to look her in the eye and tell her that her daddy wasn’t coming home.

“Please be okay, Tim.” You whisper, hoping that by some miracle, someone will hear your whisper and be able to save Tim. Halfway through your free period, your phone buzzed once more and this time you saw Angela’s name displayed across your phone screen and you scooped your phone up instantly, answering the call.

“Angela, please tell me he’s okay.” You plead, pacing your classroom anxiously as you wait for Angela to respond.

“He’s on his way to the hospital. The CDC got there and administered the vaccine but as he was leaving the house he passed out. He’s going to Shaw Memorial.” Angela explains as Jackson drives them to the hospital.

“I’m getting Mia and I’m coming to the hospital.” You say, shoving everything in your bag with little to no consideration for anything else but getting to Shaw Memorial.

“I’ll be waiting for you both,” Angela says with a nod, ignoring Jackson’s confused glances, bidding you goodbye before hanging up the phone.

After ending the call, you finish packing your bag and immediately make a beeline for the principal's office, knocking and entering with permission.

“Ah, y/n, what can I do for you?” He says with a friendly smile which falters when he notices your worried expression and the bag on your shoulder.

“Something’s happened with my husband. He’s in the hospital and I need to go and see him. I have lesson plans all written up in my desk so a substitute can step in I just need to go and see Tim.” You explain, trying not to sound too flustered but you also knew you were failing miserably.

“Of course, you can go. We should have someone available, I’ll track them down before the next period. You’re free to go. I hope everything is okay.” He says softly, holding up a hand to calm you down. When you process his words, you let out a small sigh of relief, your shoulders sagging in relief.

“Thank you so much, Paul.” You thank him gratefully, beginning to back away towards the door before saying a quick goodbye and rushing out to your car. You waste no time driving over to the preschool Mia is at, soon pulling up outside and heading into the reception.

“Mrs. Bradford, how can I help you?” The receptionist, Poppy greets you as you enter the room, her normal smile plastered on her face.

“I would like to pick Mia up early, please.” You say as you reach the front desk, bracing your hands on the desk.

“Is everything okay?” Poppy asks, picking up on your worried expression instantly.

“Tim’s in the hospital.” You say quietly and Poppy’s eyes widen slightly, making her nod as she gets up from her seat.

“I’ll go and get her.” She says quickly, excusing herself and heading off to find Mia and bring her to you. Poppy was only gone for about five minutes and soon returned with Mia skipping along by her side.

“Momma!” Mia exclaims happily, rushing into your outstretched arms as you crouch down to catch her in your arms.

“Hi, Sweetie.” You greet her, trying not to let your voice wobble with emotion as you straighten up, taking her hand in yours and taking her bag from her with your spare hand as you thank Poppy before walking Mia out to your car, helping her into her car seat and buckling her in.

“Where are we going, Momma?” Mia asks, her voice filled with innocence as she watches you carefully. And as much as you wanted to protect her, you knew you couldn’t lie to her.

“Daddy’s in the hospital so we need to go and make sure he’s okay.” You explain, brushing some baby hairs away from her face as she frowns, eyebrows furrowing as she puts everything together in her head.

“Daddy’s hurt?” She asks quietly, making you realise she was thinking of when Tim was last hurt on the job.

“I’m not sure, Sweetie. The doctors will tell me what’s happened when we get there and then we can check on him.” You say softly, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to the top of her head before you get behind the wheel, driving to the hospital. When you find a place to park, you help Mia out of the car, walking alongside her hand in hand while you call Angela, letting her know where you’re entering the hospital so she can meet you. It took you less than five minutes to locate Angela.

“Auntie Angie!” Mia calls out, rushing over to Angela who scoops Mia up in her arms, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“Hey, Mia.” Angela greets you with a smile before looking over at you.

“How is he?” You ask quietly, watching Angela’s reaction carefully.

“He seems to be okay. He woke up before they got him into the hospital. He actually helped one of our rookies out of a tough spot. The doctors are waiting for you, I’ll keep an eye on Mia. I think you need some time alone with Tim first.” Angela says, causing you to let out a sigh of relief as you thank Angela quietly before crossing to the nurse's desk.

“Hello, I’ve been told my husband, Tim Bradford has been brought here. Can I see him?” You ask, watching as the nurse glances at you with a smile.

“Let me just get the doctor for you.” They say, paging the doctor who arrives in what feels like record time and quickly locates you still standing by the desk.

“Mrs. Bradford?” The doctor greets you softly, making you turn to face him with a smile and a nod.

“Yes. Is Tim okay?” You ask, desperate for answers.

“Your husband is okay. All his test results have come back clear and an allergic reaction to the vaccine caused his passing out.” The doctor explains, a smile on her face as you nod, happy tears coming to your eyes.

“Can I see him? Is that okay?” You ask, your fingers drifting to your wedding ring as you twist it nervously around your ring finger.

“Yes, you may. Follow me and I’ll take you to his room.” She says with a nod, turning and leading you to a room, stopping by the door and encouraging you to head in. After a deep breath, you open the door and head into the room.

“y/n.” Tim breathes out softly from where he is sitting on the hospital bed. You didn’t respond at first, instead striding across the room, sitting alongside Tim on the bed, grabbing his face in your hands and kissing him strongly. You had no words for how relieved you were to see Tim alive and well so all you could do in this moment was kiss him.

“You scared the shit out of me.” You whisper, pulling away enough to speak, your lips brushing up against his as your hands drop from Tim’s face to his shoulders.

“I’m sorry. I promise it was never my intention to scare you. I thought today was going to be an easy day at work.” Tim admits quietly, lifting a hand to cup your cheek in his hand and brush a thumb over the apple of your cheek softly.

“Last time you said that was after you got shot. Maybe you should stop assuming work’s going to be easy.” You weakly attempt to joke, pulling back a little more as Tim lets out a light chuckle, dropping his hand from your cheek, reaching up and taking one of your hands in his, rubbing his thumb across your knuckles rhythmically.

“Sounds like I should,” Tim says softly. There was then a slight lull in conversation as you thought of what Tim had said to you on the phone earlier.

“Did… did you mean what you said about going out on your own terms? Would you have really-” You cut yourself off, tears already stinging your eyes at the mere thought of Tim taking his own life.

“If you had seen what that virus did to a person, you’d understand why it was a serious consideration. I didn’t want to go through what I had just seen that guy Peter go through. That virus was horrible, I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.” Tim explains, his eyes never leaving yours for a second as you nod lightly.

“So, you don’t feel like that normally? It was only because you thought you were sick with that virus?” You ask, watching Tim’s expression carefully.

“I promise you I don’t ever have thoughts like that. I’ve never been happier with my life than I am now. You and Mia are my life and you both make me so unbelievably happy. I promise.” Tim says, squeezing your hand to exaggerate his point. At his words, you nod, lifting your free hand to wipe the threatening tears away.

“You’d tell me if you ever felt like that. Wouldn’t you?” You ask softly, watching as Tim nods.

“Of course,” Tim whispers. Part of you knew that Tim had a tendency to keep his struggles to himself, but since starting a relationship with you he had gotten better at opening up about things so you at least had some comfort in the knowledge that he was more likely to come to you about any problems. With everything now discussed, you looked at Tim with a soft smile before speaking.

“Would you like to see Mia? She’s with Angela in the waiting room.” You say, not missing how Tim’s eyes lit up at the mention of his daughter.

“She’s here?” He asks, watching as you nod with a smile.

“I’ll go and grab her now.” You say, standing up and pressing a quick kiss to the top of Tim’s head before exiting the room and heading back to the waiting room where you see Mia sitting on a chair as a female police officer stands behind the chair as she did Mia’s hair. You didn’t know who this officer was but judging by everyone’s smiles, she was a good one.

“Momma! Look! Lucy did my hair!” Mia exclaims excitedly, hopping off the chair and showing off the braids she now had in her hair and when you hear Mia name the police officer, you realise that she must be the one who called you earlier.

“It’s very pretty, Mia! Did you thank Lucy?” You ask, guiding Mia back towards the group of gathered police officers.

“Thank you, Lucy!” Mia chirps, rushing over to the rookie who smiles and shakes her head.

“No need to thank me. Mia’s a sweetheart.” Lucy at first says to Mia before looking up at you and directing her next sentence to you.

“Aw thank you. But in all seriousness, I should be thanking you for calling me about Tim in the first place.” You thank Lucy gratefully, feeling like you owe her so much.

“Tim asked me to call you for him. All I did was dial the number.” Lucy says in an attempt to downplay what she did.

“You still let me know about what happened. That means a lot.” You say, smiling at Lucy who nods with a shy smile of her own.

“I’d love to spend time chatting but I promised Tim I’d bring Mia to see him. But I would love to get to know you all properly at some point.” You say apologetically, taking Mia’s hand in your own and bidding the gathered officers a hurried goodbye before heading off in the direction of Tim’s hospital room. As they watch you leave, Nolan and Jackson move to stand by Lucy’s side.

“Tim had a whole secret family and no one knew but Angela?” Jackson asks, glancing over at his training officer who shrugs with a grin.

“It helps to be the one who introduced them,” Angela says proudly, making the rookies exchange a look.

“She’s basically the polar opposite of Tim,” Nolan says, wondering why Angela had thought you and Tim would’ve made a good couple.

“They say opposites attract and I just knew y/n and Tim would work,” Angela says, folding her arms across her chest as the other rookies begin to bombard her with questions.

Meanwhile, you led Mia to Tim’s hospital room, opening the door and encouraging her to enter the room, seeing how she smiled upon seeing her dad.

“Daddy!” She says happily, rushing over to Tim’s bedside as Tim smiles widely.

“Hi, Sweetheart,” Tim says, holding an arm open to encourage Mia to hop up alongside him but you both see her hesitation as you pull up a chair alongside the bedside, settling into it. You exchange a glance with Tim before you realise why it is she was hesitating to join Tim.

“You’re not going to hurt Daddy, Sweetie.” You say softly. You remembered how when Tim got shot and was in the hospital last, Mia had rushed into his hospital room and nearly jumped up alongside him so you had warned Mia to be careful and to not jump on him while he was hurt.

“I’m not hurt, Princess. I promise.” Tim says, smiling softly at your daughter as he extends his arm out once again, and this time Mia carefully climbs up on the bed alongside him and curls into his embrace, resting her head on his chest.

“How long have you got off this time?” You ask lightly as Tim runs a hand up and down Mia’s back.

“At least two weeks,” Tim says, remembering what the doctor had told him just so they could play on the side of caution.

“Oh good, that’s plenty of time for you to reconsider my idea of getting a dog.” You say with a smile, watching as Tim jokingly glares at you while Mia perks up.

“Yes! Get a dog!” She says excitedly, curling up closer to Tim and attempting to give him puppy dog eyes.

“We’ve been over this,” Tim says, looking pointedly at you as you smile innocently.

“Please, Daddy.” Mia pleads, cuddling impossibly closer as Tim rolls his eyes jokingly.

“I will consider it.” Tim concedes, sighing as you and Mia share a high-five. As you settle back in your seat, you reach across and rest your hand atop Tim’s free hand, smiling as you watch him press a gentle kiss atop Mia’s head.

As you watched Tim interacting with Mia, you were filled with overwhelming gratitude that Tim was okay. He was so important to you and Mia and you dreaded the mere thought of him not being around anymore. But he was alive and healthy, and you knew that he would not let anything get in between him and his family.

He’d always make his way home to you.

#justabigassnerd #justabigassnerd writes #the rookie #the rookie abc #the rookie fic #the rookie fanfic #the rookie imagine #tim bradford #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford fic #tim bradford x reader #tim bradford x you #tim bradford x y/n #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford x fem!reader

813 notes · View notes

missmatchablossom · 11 months ago

Text

summary: being megumi's babysitter has two benefits: you get to hang out with an adorable kid, and you get to work for gojo satoru. when gojo finally asks you on a date, the two of you drop off megumi to uncle nanami's for the day while gojo spoils you. but your megumi's separation anxiety might get in the way :')

a/n: megumi is 4-5 years old and is super attached to you. very fluffy and sweet, smutty at the end with soft top gojo. cursing, female reader.

tags: @gojonegs @brevnaaa @sad-darksoul

You busied yourself in the kitchen, preparing a bunch of snacks for Megumi to take for his day with Uncle Nanami and Yuji. The preschooler stuck to your side like glue - always wanting to be next to you or within your line of sight - so you settled him on the sofa where he could still see you.

“Anything else you want me to pack you, my love?” you asked, waiting for Megumi's usual request for extra strawberries. When he didn’t respond, you walked over to his spot on the couch where he was sitting with his chin tucked to his chest.

“Megumi? What’s wrong,” you asked gently, noticing the tremble in his bottom lip.

“I wanna go too,” he said quietly, rubbing at his eyes. You knelt down to his level, holding his hands in yours.

“Ah, you don’t want to go play with Uncle Nanami and Yuji?” you said softly.

“I stay with you,” he said, his voice wavering with tears. It shattered your heart to pieces, and you struggled to keep your own eyes from watering.

You sat next to him on the couch, lifting him into your lap. He hugged you tight, burying his face into your chest like he usually did when he was sad or sleepy.

“I promise you will have so much fun. Uncle Nanami told me Yuji has been bugging him for a playdate with you too! I hear you’re going to the zoo today,” you said, rubbing his back in soothing circles as his sniffles quieted.

You pulled back so you could look into his eyes.

“Gojo and I are going to have our own playdate today, but the places we’re going won’t be fun for you,” you reasoned, smoothing his wild raven hair back.

“I’ll let you in on a secret though,” you said cheekily, leaning forward to touch your forehead to his.

“I really like Gojo. But I love you the most,” you said, your voice tapering off to a whisper at the end.

Finally, Megumi smiled - so adorable and happy that you were second guessing your choice to drop him off at Nanami’s today.

“Wow! Megumi smiled! You know what that means right,” you said, mirroring Megumi’s growing smile with one of your own.

“Kiss attack!” you yelled, assaulting his cheeks and forehead with kisses, causing him to laugh loudly- the kind of free, unsupressed laughter that only little kids could make.

The sound of footsteps approaching in the hallway caught your attention.

“That must be Gojo! Why don’t we try scaring him?” you said, giggling as Megumi nodded eagerly. The two of you crept over to the side of the door, crouching right out of sight.

As soon as Gojo opened the door, you both jumped up in front of him, yelling nonsensically. Gojo being gojo, didn’t flinch at all, and instead greeted you both with one of those annoyingly beautiful, nonchalant smiles of his.

“Next time you wanna scare me, try to keep the giggling down. I could hear you both from the end of the hallway,” Gojo said, ruffling Megumi’s hair.

“Lame,” Megumi muttered, and you looked away to smother your laugh. You’d never heard him say that word before, but you’d definitely heard Gojo say it a few times.

“Oh yeah? I’ll show you what’s lame,” Gojo said, scooping up Megumi into his arms. Megumi squealed with laughter as Gojo tilted Megumi down, chanting “uh oh, uh oh, uh oh” until the preschooler was completely upside down.

“Okay okay! Let him breathe,” you said, smiling as Gojo righted a very rosy Megumi in his arms. He finally paused to look at you - and I mean he really looked at you, his eyes traveling up and down your body appreciatively.

It was the reaction you’d hoped for - you were all dressed up for your date after all. But it still made you blush insanely.

Gojo smirked to himself, leaning his head down to whisper something in Megumi’s ear. Megumi tilted his head in confusion, turning to face you as he told you “He said you’re pwetty.”

Your cast your eyes up to Gojo, who was already smiling warmly at you. You couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips either.

“What’s pwetty?” Megumi asked, looking adorably confused in Gojo’s arms.

“If you say someone is pretty, it means looking at them makes you happy,” Gojo explained, though he was looking at you while he talked, making your stomach do those familiar summersaults it did whenever you had his attention.

Megumi’s eyes widened in understanding, immediately turning his attention back to you.

“Megumi thinks you’re pwetty too,” Megumi said, making your heart swell again. You thanked him, leaning up to kiss his cheek, then swiftly planting one on Gojo’s.

Gojo looked stunned for a second before he broke out into an even bigger, brilliant smile, the kind that made him look young and carefree.

The three of you arrived to Nanami’s place quickly, Gojo carrying the bag you packed while you and Megumi held hands.

As soon as the door open, Yuji came barreling towards Megumi, practically knocking him over with the force of his hug.

“Megumi!!! We gonna see tigers today!!!” Yuji yelled.

You and Gojo shared a look, the two of you holding back laughter at Megumi’s annoyed face.

“Yuji, how many times have I told you to greet people properly,” Nanami chided. Yuji apologized, quickly greeting you and Gojo before he dragged Megumi inside.

Megumi followed him, but stopped in his tracks to turn back and look at you.

“You come back?” Megumi asked, in such a small and uncertain tone that you had to take a deep breath to fend off the impending tears.

“Yes my love, I promise I’ll be back. Now go have lot’s of fun okay?” you said, watching as he nodded, wiped at his eyes, then turned join Yuji.

“Hey, why aren’t you worried if I’ll come back?” Gojo added, calling Megumi’s name a few times. Nanami chucked as Megumi completely ignored him.

“He’s quite fond of you. Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of him,” Nanami said, smiling warmly at you. You didn’t have a single doubt it your mind that he wouldn’t, but it didn’t stop the wave of sadness washing over you when it finally hit you that you’d be apart. Even though you had only been his babysitter for a couple months, you loved that kid like he was your own.

“Oy, why are you addressing her at not me?” Gojo said, but was again ignored.

“Thank you Nanami. Let me know if when you’d like me to watch Yuji for you, free of charge,” you said smiling as you peered inside, seeing Megumi and Yuji absorbed by Nanami’s fishtank.

Nanami thanked you, and Gojo ushered you out the door before you could cling to Megumi again.

The short walk back to the car was quiet - until you began sniffling. Gojo stopped in his tracks, turning to look at you as he chuckled in disbelief.

“Are you crying?” he asked, gently cupping your cheek in his hand.

“Maybe,” you sniffed, traitorous tears gathering in your eyes. He laughed to himself as he swiped the tears off your cheeks.

“Ah, and here I thought Megumi was the one with the separation anxiety,” he teased.

“I can’t help it! I just love that kid, okay?” you said, joining him in his laughter as your tears slowed.

“I know you do. And I am very grateful for it,” he said, adopting a low, affectionate tone as he swiped off the last tear off your face.

“But I’m gonna ask you to just think of me today, because I have been waiting ages to have you to myself,” he drawled, planting a soft kiss against the back of your hand.

Gojo Satoru did not hold back when it came to dates. Not that you’d expect anything less, but you certainly didn’t anticipate what he had planned; wine tasting, dinner, and the arcade. Except he booked the most extravagant wine tasting, reserving an entire floor of the winery for the two of you two of you. And he chose a rooftop dinner at sunset at the most exclusive restaurant in the city, where the chef prepared a special tasting menu just for the two of you. And he completed the date with a trip to the local arcade, which he completely booked for just the two of you to enjoy. You couldn’t recall ever having that much fun, let alone on a first date.

The two of walked leisurely, fingers interlaced, happiness from the evening practically emanating off of you.

“So, how’d I do?” Gojo asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

“That was the most amazing date I’ve ever been on. I can’t believe you did all of that for me, as a first date,” you said, the disbelief and wonder evident in your voice. Gojo’s rich laughter filled your ears.

“Oh, I’m just getting started,” he said confidently, giving you a boyish grin before he winked.

You gaped at him, because how could this be him getting started? Before you could question him more, he stilled.

“We’re here,” he said, guiding you inside an incredibly well decorated building.

“Here? I thought our date was over,” you said in confusion, following him as he pulled you further inside. The two of you were immediately greeted by workers dressed in immaculate uniforms. You recognized this place as one of the fanciest - and most expensive - hotels in the area.

“You didn’t forget the promise I made you last time, did you?” Gojo whispered in your ear, eliciting a shiver out of you. Oh, you remembered.

“Free your schedule next week. Megumi’s gonna spend a day with Uncle Nanami, and I’m taking you out on a date. And we’re gonna end the night in my bedroom, where you can be as loud as you want.”

Except this wasn’t his bedroom.

You looked at him in shock as he led you to the penthouse suite. It was a gorgeous space - a breathtaking view of the city, a lavishly made bed covered in rose petals, a stupidly enormous hot tub. But none of it drew your attention more than Gojo himself, gazing at you like he was going to devour you.

“Gojo, this must have cost a fortune,” you said, gulping as he took slow, deliberate steps towards you.

“Baby, I am filthy rich - this is nothing. I hope you have expensive taste, because I plan on spoiling the hell out of you,” he purred, and you knew he absolutely meant it.

You were suddenly aware of just how close he was to you. You could see the silver specks sparkling in his gorgeous eyes. Smell his intoxicating cologne. Hear the minute shift in his breathing. Part of you wanted to runaway from his attentive, heady stare. But another part of you wanted to bask in his attention, to revel in in.

“Are you gonna keep standing there staring, or are you finally gonna fuck me?” you said breathlessly, watching the way his eyes darkened and his lips parted.

He closed the distance between you, tilting your chin up as devoured you with desparate, open-mouthed kisses.

He bent down, lifting you up so his hands gripped your ass, your legs wrapped around his hips. You ran your hands across him greedily, shamelessly exploring his body from the soft skin of his collar to the silky strands of his hair.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, steadying you on his lap. You broke the kiss, gasping as he tugged you flush over his erection. Your dress had ridden up - leaving only the thin fabric of your underwear and his slacks separating the two of you.

“See what you do to me?” he murmured against your skin, trailing kisses down your jaw. He slid his lips lower, niping and sucking against a sensitive spot at the base of your neck while he ground his hips against you. You threw your head back, moaning as he lightly bit down at the same spot, grazing you with his teeth.

“You are so beautiful. I love hearing you moan,” he praised, laying you on the bed so you were flat on your back.

He didn’t give you time to catch your breath before he slid the straps of your dress down, kissing each inch of exposed skin until he reached your breasts. He stared at them appreciatively, humming to himself in satisfaction before he took your nipple into his mouth. You whined and writhed as he swirled his tongue against your sensnitive peak, sucking on you as he drew circles against the sensitive skin on your hip.

You lifted your hips up to grind against his ever-growing erection, desparate for friction. He moaned with you in his mouth, drawing back to tease you with a devastating smile.

“Someone’s impatient, hm?” he said lowly, rolling his hips against you. You could only moan in reply.

Suddenly, he moved himself off of you. You jerked your head up to complain, until he roughly pulled you to the edge of the bed, sliding to his knees before you. You soft gasps turned to pants as Gojo lifted your thighs over his shoulders, positioning himself perfectly between your legs.

“Can I go down on you?” he asked, placing slow, open mouthed kisses on the insides of your thigh.

“Please,” you begged, unable to keep your hips from lifting off the bed. Gojo gripped his hands on either side of your hips, pressing you down into the bed.

“Then stay still for me like a good girl,” he said, pressing a kiss against your clit through your already soaked underwear.

He flickered his eyes up to you before he yanked your panties to the side, licking a slow stripe up your core. You cursed as you threw your head back, tangling your hands through his silver locks. Gojo closed his eyes as he fucked you with his tongue, alternating between dipping his tongue between your folds and sucking on your clit. He moaned as he palmed himself through his pants, like he was the one drawing pleasure from eating you out.

“I could cum from the sound of your little whimpers and moans,” he said, eyes glazed over, lips swollen and dripping. The way he looked nearly send you over the edge.

You jolted up as you felt him drag his finger lightly across your core.

“May I?” he asked, eyes nearly black from the pleasure. You nodded your head, barely holding back a scream as Gojo slid his finger inside you, curling up as he sucked on your clit at the same time.

You came harder than you’d ever before, the wave of pleasure so unbearably sweet it had you gasping for air. Gojo brought his fingers to his mouth, closing his eyes as he sucked them clean.

“You taste as sweet as I dreamed,” he praised, moving forward to kiss you. You lazily kissed him back, reaching down between you to stroke him through his pants. He broke the kiss to moan in your ear, low and desparate.

“Can I fuck you now?” he asked, trailing kisses across your breasts. You nodded, the post-orgasm daze making you feel light and warm.

Gojo reached for a condom, but you stopped him with a hand on his.

“I’m on birth control. You can fuck me raw,” you said, enjoying the way his eyes hooded.

“If you keep talking to me like that, I’ll come in 2 seconds,” he warned, making you giggle. Your laughter turned to gasps when the head of his cock pressed against your entrance, slowly sliding to the hilt, reaching the spot that made you whimper.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he cursed, pressing his forehead against yours as he slid his cock in and out of you. You scraped your nails down the smooth skin of his back as he quickened his pace, his hips wetly slapping against the back of your thighs as he drove into you.

“You hear that? You’re fucking soaked for me baby,” he panted, not bothering to cease his thrusts.

It was too much - his filthy praise in your ear, how deep he was hitting, the way he swiped his thumb over your clit as he fucked you. Your second orgasm seared into you, and you bit into his shoulder as you came down from your high.

“You are so pretty when you cum on my cock,” he said, kissing across your jaw.

You lightly pushed on his shoulder, a silent plea for him to give you a break. He complied right away, pulling his still very much erect cock out of you.

“Now, will you please sit on the bed so I can ride your cock?” you said, batting your lashes at him as you smiled.

He closed his eyes as the words came out, rolling his jaw as if he could barely contain himself.

“Fuck yes,” he murmured, moving to sit with his back against the headboard.

You crawled over to him, positioning his cock over your entrance as he steadied you with his hands on your hips. You indulged yourself in the way he threw his head back, murmuring a slow curse as you sank completely onto him. He moaned each time you sank back down onto him, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as you quickened your pace.

“You’re gonna make me cum,” he moaned, the grip he had on your hips becoming deliciously painful.

“Fill me up,” you said, smiling sultrily as he let out a string of curses and filthy praises. Barely a second later his hips bucked up as he came, spilling his warm seed inside you where it belonged.

If you thought the normal Gojo was attractive, sex-dazed Gojo was sinfully sexy - a feint flush over his porcelain skin, lips pinked and swollen, silvery hair in disarray, and a satisfied smile on his face.

You collapsed onto him, laying your head on his chest as pulled you closer. You both stayed in each other’s arms until you both caught your breath, relaxing as you cuddled.

“Oh my gosh wait what time is it? Don’t we need to pick up Megumi soon?” you said, sitting up suddenly.

“Relax baby. We have some time left,” he soothed, pulling you back into his arms.

“Still thinking about my kid, even as we’re laying naked together with my cum still inside of you?” he said, suddenly popping your tit into his mouth. You yelped, smothering a moan before he pulled back, laughing.

“He just popped into my mind, I promise. You’ve had my attention this whole day. I can’t even begin of thinking how I could repay you,” you reassured, pressing light kisses against his lips.

“You can repay me by going on another date with me. I already have it planned and booked so you have to say yes,” he said, trailing soft kisses against your shoulder as you giggled. You stood no chance against this man.

Definitely not when he princess-carried you to the bathtub. Not when he sat behind you, gently brushing his hands over your body as he cleaned you up, not letting you lift a finger. Not when he blow-dried your hair for you. Not when he laid out a comfortable set of clothes to change into - consisting of one of his crewnecks and yoga pants. Nope, no chance against this man.

When Nanami answered the door, his eyes immediately took in the obviously over-sized sweater you were wearing. He gave you a knowing smile, sending a blush to your cheeks as you avoided his eyes.

As you and Gojo walked inside, you noticed how abnormally quiet it was. The reason why became abundantly clear as you spotted Megumi and Yuji cuddled up on the couch, completely knocked out.

“They were very hyper at the zoo today. I’m surprised they didn’t fall asleep sooner,” Nanami said in a hushed voice, smiling warmly at the two boys. He showed you the pictures he took of the two throughout the zoo: Yuji and Megumi in matching tiger headbands, Yuji and Megumi walking while holding hands, Yuji sitting at the top of an enormous elephant statue, Megumi starting wide-eyed at the giant panda exhibit. You had Nanami send them to you immediately, already planning to get the pictures printed out.

You turned to show Gojo the pictures, but he was knelt down besides the two boys. He wore an affectionate smile on his face looking between the two of them before he smoothed Megumi’s hair back, gently patting his side until he stirred.

“Time to go home Megumi,” he said softly. Megumi reached his arms towards Gojo, not bothering to open his eyes as Gojo lifted him into his arms. The two of you thanked Nanami as you walked out, promising to host the next playdate between Megumi and Yuji.

Once you reached the car, Gojo made quick work fastening Megumi into his carseat without waking him, draping his jacket over Megumi before opening the passenger door for you. You thanked him with a kiss, promising to come inside his place to tuck Megumi in before you went back to your apartment.

The preschooler slept quietly as you carried him to the apartment, barely moving as you laid him in his bed and pulled the blankets over him. Only when you pressed a kiss to his forehead did he wake up, blinking up at you sleepily. Suddenly, his navy eyes were welling up with tears as he wiggled out of bed, nearly launching himself into your arms. You hugged him close, patting his back as he sniffled.

“You were so brave today going to the zoo with Nanami and Yuji. Did you have fun?” you said, rocking him gently as his cries settled. He nodded, gripping your sweater in his little hands.

“We go together next time?” he asked quietly. You squeezed him even tighter against you.

“Yes, lets go together next time. We can play your favorite games tomorrow, okay? I’ll be here when you wake up,” you cooed, kissing the top of his head.

“Don’t go,” Megumi said, beginning to cry once more. You tried rocking him to sleep, murmuring promises of all the fun you’ll have together tomorrow, to no avail. Gojo walked into the room, sitting on the bed beside you.

‘What’s all the fuss, Megumi?” he asked, swiping some of the tears off Megumi’s cheeks.

“No go,” he managed to say through his tears, sending sharp pains through your heart as his cries shook his little body.

“It’s been a while since he spent the day apart from both of us. It must have really shocked him,” you said, guilt stabbing into your chest.

“When I first brought him home, he never cried at all. He’s really lucky to have someone he can miss so much now,” Gojo said lightheartedly, bringing a smile back to your face.

“Why don’t you just sleep over?” he asked. You snapped your eyes to his, searching for the usual amusement in his eyes that let you know he was teasing. But there wasn’t any.

“Are you sure?” you asked tentatively. Cuddling Megumi while you slept and waking up to Gojo sounded like a dream come true.

“I’m sure. Only if you’re comfortable with it, I know it would make Megumi happy,” he said, patting Megumi’s back. “And it would make me happy to wake up to you,” he added at the end, the sincerity in his tone making you smile like an idiot.

“Okay, I’ll stay. You hear that Megumi? I’m gonna stay with you the whole night!” you said. The preschooler finally lifted his face from your chest, looking up at you with watery eyes.

“Stay?” he mumbled, wiping at his eyes.

“Yup, I’ll sleep next to you in your bed okay?” you said, cupping his face in your hands. Megumi finally stopped crying, nodding his head as he calmed.

“I’ll get some extra pillows for you,” Gojo said, moving to get up. Megumi stopped him with a small hand on his shoulder.

“No, stay too,” he said, reaching his arms out towards Gojo. Gojo chucked in disbelief, taking Megumi into his arms.

“I’m touched Megumi. I thought you only missed her,” he teased, but the warm smile on his face gave away how truly pleased he was about it.

Megumi shook his head, clinging onto Gojo’s chest so cutely you wanted to take a photo.

“Let’s all just sleep in my bed together then,” Gojo offered, lifting his brows at you as he smiled.

“Together?” Megumi said, looking between the two of you. Ah, now you for sure couldn’t say no. Not that you were going to.

“Yes baby, we’’ll be sleeping next to you the whole night, so you don’t have to worry okay?” you said, scooting close so you were flush against Gojo’s side.

Megumi finally smiled, hugging the two of you as much as he could. Gojo turned his body, enveloping both you and Megumi in his arms. You felt tears prick against your eyes as you were overcome with a wave of happiness. This is where you belonged, where you always wanted to be.

You fell asleep peacefully, cuddled up with your back against Gojo’s front and Megumi asleep against your chest.

check out the part 1 to this fic if you enjoyed this! :)

2K notes · View notes