#headed to the next part and one of the stations had a fire so the train was held up for ages too

[dcxdpdabbles]

Mr Flavor Soda Part 2

Mr. Flavor's Soda gains traction once the creator starts selling in a fixed place. Anthony's Pasta also grows in customers when word gets out that there is a surefire way of crossing paths with Mr. Flavor on Mondays and Fridays.

It's mainly because Mr. Flavor has gained a reputation for being hard to find. It was almost as if he vanished from one side of the city to the next without so much as a hint of how he got there.

However, that didn't mean he wasn't well known. He was a young teenager, likely fifteen or so, who always rushed about Gotham doing questionable parkour.

People had seen him climb up fire escapes only to do crazy leaps, looking to be aiming for his knees to break on each landing. He was spotted doing cartwheels across walking lanes, sometimes going over the hoods of cars that stopped on the lines instead of around.

He deliberately looked for the most haunted places in Gotham, walking with a traveling tea set because "the ghosts like to have tea parties." He had picnics in the middle of dark alleys, asking the air if it would like a second cup but pouring nothing from his teacup.

People were often confused by his responses when speaking to him. Nothing he said was particularly bad, but it showed his severe social awkwardness.

Customers walked away bemused but holding bottles of delicious beverages.

Another odd thing about the boy was his refusal to sell any of his creations for more than a single dollar. Nothing in Gotham was cheap. A regular Zesti was at least two dollars and nineteen cents, but Mr. Flavor looked appalled to charge so much.

A kid claiming to be among the original group that discovered Mr. Flavor, bestowing him the nickname, quoted the strange soda maker as saying, "If someone gives me a dollar, then I am one dollar richer. But if someone gives me two dollars, then they are two dollars poorer instead of only one."

It sounded humble on the surface, but it didn't really answer the questions the kid had originally asked him which were: "Why do you only charge a dollar? Why not more?"

Some people in Gotham were weary of Mr. Flavor. He didn't sound all quite there in the head. He wasn't near the level of insanity of the supervillains running around, but it wouldn't be a surprise if they all woke up one day to find out Mr. Flavor had snapped.

The remaining skeptics also regarded his drinks with cautious eyes. Despite his claims and the word of Red Hood, many wondered if Mr. Flavor was putting some kind of drug in his drink, hoping to spread it to the masses with his cheap prices.

If he was even selling soda at all.

Zesti is a familiar and beloved brand, but Mr. Flavor was once seen tasting the beverage and shouting, "Is this cream soda?!" He then bought one bottle or can of every soda option from the same gas station.

Each one was apparent "cream soda" according to Mr. Flavor. It was confirmed that the drinks the young boy made were far from the flavor of what they considered soda.

Now, Tim didn't see anything wrong with that. Jason had brought back samples of the other's work, and though the ingredients were interesting, they were ultimately confirmed to be soda. Or as close to soda as Mr. Flavor claimed it was.

He was just a bit eccentric while wandering Gotham. Nothing to worry about. Tim, knowing Jason, Bruce- and maybe even Dick with how determined his eldest brother was to try one of the sodas- had everything regarding Mr. Flavor under control; he chose to turn his attention to a series of missing people reports hitting Old Gotham.

There was no visible connection with the victims besides all having long chestnut hair. Age, gender, and social class didn't matter to whoever was taking these people- and Tim knew they were being taken. Tim found it strange that people who vanished were last seen near the same area, having built a map showcasing they were being targeted within a triangle that covered well-known shopping districts.

It was a bit of ground to cover, but Tim figured if he wandered around there long enough, he would attract the kidnapper's attention. He opened his closet, dusted off his old wig, and an hour later, Caroline Hill made her way over to Old Gotham.

Tim originally hated his Caroline Hill as he did not like disguising himself as a woman, but over time, he grew to adore how easily he could change her backstory and his mannerisms to fit with whoever Caroline was that day.

Sometimes, Caroline was a first-year medical student working through clinicals and rotations. She was overworked, under a lot of stress from her assignments, and didn't have time to be distracted by a social life, much less a man asking her out.

Sometimes Caroline was a highschool student who enjoyed community service. She was friendly, outgoing, and more then willing to take the lead in projects. She was naive and sheltered not losing faith in people quite yet.

Other times, Caroline was a high school dropout who didn't know what she wanted. She would apply to any job that would hire her, dreaming of leaving Gotham one day to find a dream to chase. To her, life was dull and meaningless.

Caroline was even a fashion model once. She was famous for her streetwear outfits and gorgeous selt-taken shots. Tim was proud to say her submission to LexCorp's phone promotion contest was still being broadcast, and she received checks for her work. She oozed confidence as a woman who knew what and when she wanted it.

It showed in her walk as she strutted down Old Gotham, stopping to enter any clothing Boutique she saw under the pretense of looking for an outfit for a big-shot party. She was dressed like the world was her runway, but not a red carpet.

If anything, she dressed like a woman who used to live in Old Gotham during its glory days, gracefully wearing the vintage outfit.

Her attire drew the eye of more than one person, especially when she ran her hand through her long, lush hair, making it fall smoothly against her lower back.

Tim figured model Caroline would be a much more tempting target, mainly because she carelessly browsed the various shops and little cafes. Anyone who watched her could tell she was unaware of her surroundings, and Tim had to carefully ensure they never doubted her blindness for even a second.

It was well; he was in an antique shop, glancing at lipstick holders, when something finally happened. The door swung open with a bang, and he allowed himself to jump as it would be something Caroline would do.

"Sorry! I gave the door a little too much razzle instead of dazzle!" a voice yells. Tim twists around to see a boy his age, with wild black hair—as if he did try to run a comb through it, but the strains refused to yield—and big, sparkling, far too aqua eyes.

Was he wearing cheap color contacts? Or was he a meta?

"No problem, Danny." Ms. Pinkney, the owner, a sweet woman who had refused to marry and was now approaching her sixties, smiled back. "Are you here again to play with Cyrus?"

"Yup, I'm going to beat him today." The boy chirps, walking over to a display that was roped off. He didn't seem to care for the sign on the red rope that read "WARNING: HAUNTED BY ANGRY SPIRIT" as he stepped over it.

It was the notoriously cursed chessboard and the two original armchairs from the eighteen hundreds.

Tim knew of the rumor that the man responsible for Gotham's architectural style- Cysrus Pinkney- had been in the middle of a chess game with his friend Solomon Wayne on the eve of his fortieth birthday when he had died.

He had been poisoned in the middle of a large party thrown by Henry Cobblepot, and no one to this day knew who his murder had been. Following Pinkney's death, terrible things happened to anyone who tried to sit or even move the chessboard. Sounds of chess pieces clicking on the board, low mutters in a man's voice, and even the chair moving back and forth began to appear.

Figthen that Cysrus still lingered; Henry had gifted Cysrus's wife the two chairs, the board, and the table it sat on. She took it home and learned that only she and her children were allowed near Cysrus.

He attacked all the others, including Solomon and his other best friend, Amadeus Arkham. The attacks were so bad that everyone eventually knew not to bother Cysrus.

He became an Urban Legend of Gotham, and many tourists would travel to Old Gotham just to gawk at the Pinkey's haunted family heirlooms.

Tim watched him confidently sit in an armchair before a chessboard. He gave the opposite chair across from him a wide smile. "Hiya Cyrus."

A lamp near Tim was flung at the boy, who took the hit with a laugh. "No need to be rude."

The lamp shattered against the ground, appearing to have been lifted again, only to fall as the boy reached out and moved a pawn. Tim's stomach dropped. His experience with Greta had taught him that ghosts were very real and, when their deaths were left unsolved, often very violent.

This guy had no idea what he was dealing with.

He opens his mouth when the teenager is suddenly flung from his seat, flying across the room and smashing against the wall. Ms. Pinkney laughs as if she just saw a toddler throw a fit.

"Honestly, grandfather, must you be so rude? Danny is just trying to play with you."

Tim watches her hair shift as if someone- or something- was ruffling her hair. Yikes, it was a poltergeist who unliked Greta was not visible but able to touch anything he pleased.

"Knight G1 to F3!" Danny yells, climbing to his feet. The scraping sounds of something being dragged across the floor as Danny twists around with his arms spread wide as a very large wardrobe rushes at him. He welcomed the attack like an old friend, nose cracking as it broke.

"Going Ghost!" Danny screams through his blood, landing on the ground as the wardrobe nearly crushes him.

Tim's mouth drops open. He's taunting Cyrus!? Not challenging his existence but straight up taunting the angered spirit?!

"Grandfather!" Ms. Pinkney scowls. "Stop this at once! You're usually more friendly than this. Danny is a guest!"

"It's okay, Ms. P! I think it's almost Cyrus' death day. All ghosts tend to get a little cranky around that time. Besides we're scaring the lady."

It takes an embarrassing amount of time for " lady" Danny to refer to him as he still wears Caroline. It's enough for the boy to leap to his feet, pat himself down—ignoring the broken nose—and strut to Tim.

Before the undercover man can say anything, Danny yanks out a bottle and hands it over. "Sorry about that, ma'am. Here, I have one on the house."

A Mr.Flavor bottle is thrust into his hands; the bubbling clear water with the leaping boy has green and yellow undertones. It's the only difference to the bottle Jason showed him not too long ago.

The teenager smiles, his teeth colored red. "You're quite pretty. Have a good day! Don't let your drink get warm!"

Then he skipped right out.

"Wha?" He blinks, and Ms. Pinkney slides right up to him with a ruthful smile.

"I know what you're thinking. I don't believe Danny is eccentric, but he has a good heart." She starts carefully, studying Tim's face with far too much intensity. It's not the kind of attention that one gives someone who they are just trying to convince to leave someone else alone. Her eyes linger on his wing for a few seconds too long.

Isn't her shop smack in the middle of the missing people's map? Interesting.

"Who was that?" He says instead, making sure Caroline's voice sounds breathy and sweet.

She smiles "Danny. But most know him as Mr.Flavor."

Tim looks at the bottle in his hands, feeling the ice-cold beverage- did he just pull it out of a freezer?- and unclips it to have a sip. It's nothing like soda, but it is at the same time.

It was far smoother than other sodas, with far more bubbles, and the flavor made his tastebuds sing.

"Oh, looks like you got Sprite. That's one of my favorites," Ms Pinkney comments. "Rare that one. Danny usually sells out by now."

"Does he come here often?"

The old woman laughs. "I'm afraid you're barking up the wrong tree, dearie."

Not what he meant, but if it kept his new number one suspect to chat more, he is fine with the assumption.

"Does he not like girls?" Tim asks, allowing his features to pull into a pout. He is very grateful that her made Caroline young enough to pass for his own real age.

"I don't believe he likes humans, I'm afraid. Male or female."

Huh?

But Ms. Pinkney's attention was distracted by the chess board, which shook slightly as the pieces previously moved by Mr. Flavor returned to their starting positions. She walked over to carefully lift up the thrown wardrobe.

Tim is quick to help her, slowly restoring the shop to its former glory. It's only after they finish that the old lady glances in the direction in which Mr. Flavor disappeared.

"Grandfather Cyrus is my great-great-great-great-grandfather. It's easier for me to call him grandfather since he's been around for generations, but his closeness has made the family tree a bit sensitive to the paranormal. I'm unsure what Danny is, but he doesn't feel human." She sighs. "I doubt he will find what he is looking for if he continues going about things like this."

"Like what?" Tim asks, stepping closer. "What's Danny looking for?"

The old woman's dark eyes chill down his spine as she gazes at him. "Death."

In the corner of Tim's eye, a man sitting at a chess set nods his head. He decides it's a good time to end his daily undercover work. Tim leaves, strutting with less grace as his mind recounts everything he knows about Mr. Flavor.

He is unaware of the person watching him from the alley, eyes tracing the lovely mane of chestnut hair. The grin that blooms over their face is nothing else but hungry.

[megalony]

Meet My Family

This is an Evan Buckley imagine requested by anon, I hope you will all like it. Let me know what you think.

I'd love to do a follow up or two if anyone would be interested.

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 @itshamleth

Evan Buckley Masterlist

Part 2

Summary: Evan has been waiting for the right time to introduce the team to his family. But when his son is ill and he has to leave shift early, he tells the team about his family. (Autistic! son)

Enjoy.

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A shudder tore down Evan's spine and tingled throughout his arms when his son screamed.

It didn't matter how many times Evan had heard Rowan scream or make similar screeching, high-pitch noises, each one always cut through him.

With his lips rolled together, Evan tried again to reach for the shirt on the bed that he needed so he could get dressed ready for work. But Rowan moved faster. Despite the crackling coughs passing the five year old's lips, he took a dive and grabbed the shirt next to him on the bed, pinning it to his chest.

Evan took a deep breath before he crouched down on his knees at the foot of the bed so he was level with his boy. He watched Rowan tilt his head to the side, snuffling and huffing into the shirt he was cuddling like it was one of his many toys.

"Please." He kept his tone gentle and held his hand out, but Rowan wasn't agreeable today. Evan rose a brow and moved to tap the logo on the shirt that had the fire station name and number sewn into the crest. "Daddy's going to work. I gotta get dressed." He tapped the crest again before pointing to himself, but all he got was a sad scream that twisted into a cry at the end.

He knew Rowan knew what he was saying, or at least what he was trying to convey to him.

Evan was an expert on Rowan's different noises by now, he had to be. Noises were a way Rowan communicated because he couldn't speak, so Evan and (Y/n) had learned to decipher which ones were happy, which ones meant he was in pain and what sounds were angry or frightened.

Right now he was both in pain and angry. He didn't want Evan to go to work. Rowan didn't know what to do when he wasn't well, he knew he wasn't going to school because Evan hadn't gotten him into his school uniform and that meant his routine was disrupted.

A barking cough left Rowan's lips which made his chest sound like it was made of tissue paper that was ripping and crinkling apart. He pinned Evan's shirt to his chest and Evan sighed before he reached out.

He lifted Rowan up off the bed and let him snuggle against his chest. Since the moment he was born, Rowan had been a cuddler. Nothing couldn't be solved by a cuddle and it was something Evan loved about him.

Evan knew a few of the other parents from Rowan's school and he knew half of the kids there didn't like physical contact as much as Rowan. Some of the kids couldn't handle cuddles or long hugs or interacting with their families. If Rowan had been like that, it would physically kill Evan. He was so, so relieved that every day he got to pick his son up and lather him with kisses and hold him and show him he was loved.

And cuddles were a way for Rowan to express himself. He couldn't speak, (Y/n) and Evan were never going to hear their son tell them he loved them, but at least he could show it through touch and contact.

Rowan's birth had been a horrid experience that resulted in him not breathing for the first few seconds of his life and caused brain damage.

And when he was two and a half, after noticing little patterns and different behaviours in Rowan, added to the fact that he hadn't learned to speak, they ended up getting an autistic diagnosis.

He was non-verbal, granted Rowan could make noises, he made lots of sounds. He loved to click his tongue and make a noise that always reminded Evan of the Crazy Frog. And Rowan could scream, he would belt out a scream if he was angry or make a squeal if he was happy, but he couldn't say any words.

That meant it was sometimes hard to figure out if Rowan was in pain or the reasons why he was upset. They only knew Rowan was ill yesterday because he had a temperature and he was coughing and screaming. They were starting to use picture cards with him, but it was a slow process. They wanted to teach him to point to a picture to show them if he was in pain, such as if he had a tummy ache he could point and show them. At the moment, they used pictures for him to point out where he wanted to go.

And they had a picture board depicting what they did each day to try and help him have some control and sense of understanding.

"Alright buddy, alright."

He felt Rowan snuggle down against him until his head was tucked beneath Evan's chin and his arms loosely draped around Evan's neck, leaving the shirt hanging over his back, tightly gripped in his son's hand.

Tipping his head down, Evan kissed the top of Rowan's matching curls and smoothed a hand up and down his back as his other arm wrapped across his legs to keep him perched on his chest. He kept him snuggled close and kept kissing his head while he turned to leave the bedroom. There was no point arguing like this, Evan was just going to have to go about his morning routine and show Rowan that he would be leaving for work soon.

Rowan had been glued to both parents all night because he had a horrid chesty cough and Evan was sure he was going to start throwing up soon. He couldn't sleep and therefore Evan hadn't managed to sleep much either, most of the night was spent laid up in bed with Rowan on his chest.

Evan slowly made his way downstairs and padded through into the kitchen where he knew (Y/n) was because he could hear the radio humming softly through the air. He bounced Rowan a bit higher on his chest and continued to kiss the top of his head as he wandered past the kitchen table towards (Y/n).

His eyes instantly landed on (Y/n) and a soft smile flooded his face as he approached her. She was wearing a pair of leggings, mostly covered by one of Evan's long button up shirts which hung off (Y/n)'s frame since it was about two sizes too big, but she still made it look good. Her hair was pinned back and despite the tired look in her eyes, just looking at her made Evan smile.

"Morning sweetheart," Evan walked over to (Y/n) and stood behind her, curving his right arm around her waist while his left arm kept Rowan in place against his chest.

His fingers feathered up and down her waist and he took the time to kiss the top of her head while (Y/n) leaned her head back on his shoulder so she could smile up at him.

He pecked her temple again and reached his arm up from her waist to rattle through the medicine cupboard above her. All medicines had to be in high cupboards so Rowan couldn't get hold of them, he had a tendency to grab anything and stick it in his mouth. All the cleaning products were in the top cupboard above the counter because Rowan had tried to eat the wash liquid. It was either put them high up or get locks for the cupboards.

Evan grabbed the Calpol and the thermometer, grinning when he felt (Y/n) twist her head to the side so she could press her lips against his neck and graze her teeth over his skin. Not enough to mark him up for work, but just enough to make a red scratch worm onto his skin.

"Morning… you get hot or something?" (Y/n) did a quick sweep up and down his frame, wondering why he was wearing everything but his shirt. He didn't usually walk about in trousers but no shirt, it was more usual to see Evan either fully dressed or simply in his pants, there wasn't an inbetween.

"Someone's got my shirt." His eyes drifted down to the person in his arm who had gone quiet all of a sudden. He couldn't even feel Rowan humming or making his usual clicking sound which meant he was either tired or feeling unwell, possibly both.

Ducking his head down, Evan nudged his nose against (Y/n)'s until she got the hint and lifted her head up to meet him halfway. His nose nudged her cheek and his lips smothered hers, stealing a kiss that took all the air from (Y/n)'s lungs.

She groaned against his lips which gave Evan the chance to slide his tongue past her lips to tango with hers. He could feel her hand gliding across his chest, her nails leaving just the slightest scratch into his skin to wind him up and she gasped into his mouth when his hand holding the medicine bottle swatted down against her bum.

At least Rowan never seemed to mind whenever Evan wanted to steal a kiss from (Y/n) or when he curled around her and laid with her. They could hug and kiss and be intimate without Rowan making a fuss or getting protective or whining like most other kids would do.

"He's flushed." (Y/n) whispered against Evan's lips when she felt Rowan pressing up between them.

She pulled back from Evan's tempting lips so she could kiss Rowan's forehead which was hot and slightly sweaty. He was probably going to run a fever soon if he wasn't already.

"Alright buddy, let's take a look at you," Evan turned around to face the kitchen island and gently sat Rowan down on the counter.

He noticed Rowan's breathing was slightly crackly but he wasn't snuffling like he had a cold. The five year old's gaze seemed to be focused on the tattoo on Evan's left shoulder, he didn't understand them or what they were, but he seemed to love staring at them.

He cuddled Evan's shirt to his chest and stayed unusually still while Evan kissed his temple and tried to listen to his breathing.

He hadn't been well yesterday either, but he still went to school because he wasn't lethargic and he was active enough to go. But during the afternoon and into the evening his coughing got worse and he was clearly sick today.

"Okay, ready? Be brave, just like daddy."

Evan turned on the thermometer and pressed it into his own ear so Rowan could see it wasn't something that would hurt him. The five year old was a menace at the doctors. He wouldn't let them look in his ears, his mouth, if they touched him he screamed and vaccinations were the worst. He wouldn't let any of the teachers give vaccinations at school so Evan always made sure he had the day off and they got his vaccinations at the doctors.

One of them, usually Evan, had to pin Rowan to their chest while the other talked to him and held his hand so the doctor could inject him.

Once it was done, Evan held the thermometer out to Rowan. The young boy shook his head and made a discontent noise and when Evan pushed it in his ear, he screamed and tried to hit Evan's arm. It gave Evan the chance to snatch his shirt from his son and toss it somewhere behind him to be put on later.

"Done, all done." Evan placed it out the way so it couldn't be weaponised since Rowan was now upset. "Thirty-nine point four, he's got a fever."

"Great." (Y/n) murmured defeatedly and when she passed him, she leaned over to kiss Evan's shoulder. At least Rowan was up and active and making noises. If he was lethargic they would have cause for concern, and his fever wasn't too high or in the danger zone yet which was a relief. He would be okay for now, (Y/n) would keep an eye on him.

Evan held the Calpol out on a spoon which Rowan happily accepted. The good thing about him was that he didn't complain about medicine. He took anything given to him whether it was a liquid or a tablet or a cough sweet, but it usually had to be liquid. Rowan didn't understand that some tablets couldn't be chewed, he would chew any he was given.

Reaching out for him, Evan gently lifted him up and set him down to his feet so he could trot over to (Y/n). He swiftly pulled open the bottom drawer where he knew all his cups and beakers were kept and held a beaker out to (Y/n), his way of asking for a drink.

"Rowan, buddy, look." Evan tugged his shirt over his head and tucked it into his pants before he reached out for his son's hand.

He gently tugged until Rowan finally looked at where he was pointing. The whiteboard stuck on the fridge.

It was their now and next board. They printed pictures such as food, drinks, places like the park and cinema or school, and stuck them on the board so Rowan knew what was happening or so he could pick what he wanted to do.

Evan took the picture of himself and moved it to the bottom of the board, leaving Rowan and (Y/n)'s pictures up on the top. That told Rowan Evan was leaving.

"Daddy going to work, you can watch movies with mummy." He put the picture of the tv up on the board but he winced when Rowan stomped his foot. At first, they weren't sure Rowan actually understood any of the pictures or what they were trying to show him, but his reactions told them different.

And just last week, Rowan had noticed that Evan wasn't in the house when he woke up, and he trotted into the kitchen and took Evan's picture off the board all by himself. He stuck it at the bottom of the whiteboard where there was a building to signify Evan going to work. (Y/n) cried when she watched him.

It proved they had a way of communicating and that Rowan was understanding them and what was going on around him.

A rumbling, whining sound left Rowan's lips before he grabbed Evan's picture and moved it up next to the tv. Evan sighed, biting his lip as he shook his head and pointed to his shirt before he slowly moved his picture again.

"No, daddy's going to work."

Evan pressed his hand over the picture so Rowan couldn't try and move it again and it caused Rowan to scream. He tried to pull on Evan's hand, but when he realised his dad wasn't going to budge or listen, he stomped his feet and began to cry.

His cries ended in broken coughs as he flopped down to sit on the floor, his version of a tantrum. He continued to cry but his hands batted out in front of him and Evan wasn't sure what he wanted until Rowan finally grabbed his hand. He held his dad's hand, still crying, and just kept squeezing for a while. Evan didn't know if Rowan was asking for comfort or if he was just trying to convey how upset and sick he felt, but Evan stayed still and let him get it out of his system.

"Baby, here's your drink, look." (Y/n) leaned over him, kissing his forehead as she held his beaker in front of him.

She waited for him to take it but Evan reacted quicker, he could see what the five year old was about to do. When Rowan went to smack the drink away, Evan took it first.

"Fine, daddy will drink it then."

Rowan was stumped. He stopped crying, tears still running down his face and his chest heaving, but he stopped making any noise. He watched Evan take the beaker and take a sip and that was enough to snap Rowan out of his tantrum.

He pushed up and took the beaker from Evan as if his dad should know that he was not allowed to do that. And he flopped forward into Evan's chest, seeking a hug while he calmed down enough to have a drink.

"If you need anything today just call me, okay?" Evan looked across at (Y/n) and his expression softened when she held out a cup of coffee towards him. She knew he would need one now to wake him up for the drive to the station and then he would have another one as soon as he got to work.

"We might need another tub of strawberries." (Y/n) leant her hip against the counter, her eyes practically melting as she looked over at her boys.

Rowan had a thing for fruit. (Y/n)'s lockscreen on her phone was of Rowan and Evan at the local farm picking strawberries. All the ones Rowan picked went straight in his mouth, and the same could be said for Evan. For every strawberry Evan put in his punnet, he also put one in his mouth.

It was a routine for Rowan to have them at breakfast and they were almost out.

(Y/n) watched Evan nod with a smile and her eyes followed him as he scooped Rowan up from the floor and walked over to her until he was close enough for her arms to bind around. Keeping her and their boy pinned against his chest until it was time for him to go. He didn't like leaving them, especially when one of them wasn't well.

***

"What're we eating, I'm starving." Evan clapped his hands together and leaned over the counter to grab the plates from the cupboard. He was sure in any moment his stomach was going to growl as if to prove his point.

"You're always hungry."He huffed and took a glance over his shoulder at Hen as she passed him to sit at the table.

He couldn't really disagree with that. Evan was always hungry, but he was always on the go. When everyone else at the station could relax and sit down between calls, Evan was restocking the trucks and mopping the floors and tidying up. He couldn't sit still. He worked out a lot in the gym every single day. He was always on the move; he had every right to be hungry every minute of the day when each minute was accounted for.

He set the plates around the table and took his usual seat next to Bobby once the Captain set down a bowl of carbonara in the middle of the table.

Evan couldn't help but zone out of the conversation as he began to eat. His mind was wandering again.

He couldn't help but think back to this morning and how Rowan had thrown another tantrum when Evan tried to walk out the door. He screamed until he started coughing and then he threw up his breakfast. Moments like that made Evan hate having a job. He never wanted to leave (Y/n) or Rowan and when he did long shifts, it upset Rowan.

It was starting to bug Evan to the point he was contemplating asking Bobby if he could go on twelve hour shifts. He didn't mind doing the usual mix of days and nights, but pulling long double shifts wasn't good for Rowan.

"I think that girl on the last call had the hots for you, Buck." Hen wiggled her brows and pointed her fork at him while he felt Eddie nudge him in the side.

"She was a cook, you'd get along great in the kitchen." Eddie piped in and pointed at the food.

A soft smirk filtered across Evan's lips and he flashed his teeth before he shook his head and took a bite of his food. He didn't need to find anyone, he already had a girl waiting back home for him. And he wouldn't get along great in the kitchen with that woman on their call this morning, she seemed bossy and if Evan was bossed around in the kitchen, he got snappy.

"Ah, I don't need a sous chef, thanks."

The team didn't know about Evan's family.

As he took another bite of his lunch, Evan couldn't help but move his free hand towards the chain dangling around his neck. His fingers traced the silver links and wandered beneath his cotton shirt to the wedding ring that was a small but comfortably weight against his chest, right near his heart.

He didn't like wearing the ring on his finger, not in this line of work. Evan couldn't risk losing his ring and he didn't want the constant battle of scrubbing his hands and cleaning his ring whenever he got his hands dirty in this job. Plus, Evan was an accident prone in this job. He knew if he went unconscious at the hospital and he needed a scan or an X-ray, they would cut his ring if they couldn't slide it off his finger. He wasn't taking that risk. Having it hung on a chain was safer and made him feel better and protected.

Evan had been meaning to tell the team about his family, but he hadn't found the right time. He wanted to introduce everyone soon, properly. He had waited to make sure this job stuck, that this team was truly like a family before he opened up the most precious thing he had to them.

It was Rowan Evan was thinking of. It took him a while to get used to new people and Evan didn't want to get Rowan used to them just for this job to go sideways or in case something happened within the team. And Evan had to make sure that everyone would be understanding.

He'd had his fair share of fights with people who had made rude comments about his son or people who dismissed him. Evan had to make sure none of the team were like that before he opened up.

Just as they were all finished and Evan collected the empty plates, he felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. He shuffled the plates into one hand, slowing down so he didn't drop them while he fished his phone out his pocket.

'Babe <3'

The air disappeared from Evan's lungs and he hurriedly dumped the plates in the sink before he spun on his heels. He weaved past Chimney and Hen, throwing them a cautious smile so they didn't try and ask what he was doing or why he was staring at his phone like that with his jaw slack.

"Hey baby, everything okay?" It didn't matter how many times Evan told (Y/n) she could and should ring him at work if something was wrong, she barely did.

She would text him, send him pictures and let him know if Rowan was okay or if something was wrong, but she didn't usually ring him. "Hey, I- I didn't wanna ring you but… babe I might need some help."

That alone was enough to put Evan on edge. He could hear the panic in his wife's voice and it sent his heart lurching up into his throat. He took a few steps away from the kitchen until he was leaning over the railing. His back and bum arched out behind him and his elbows dug down into the metal railing as he tried to control his breathing.

"Why, what's happened?"

"His temperature spiked, and he was coughing so much he wasn't breathing properly. The doctor said to come down to the hospital s-so we're at the emergency room. Evan he won't calm down, he knows where we are, I don't think he's gonna let the doctor anywhere near him. C-can you come down?"

She hated to ask, but (Y/n) needed help and that thought alone sent Evan reeling.

He should have stayed home. He shouldn't have come into work, he should have stayed when he saw that Rowan had a fever this morning.

He knew Rowan hated the doctors and the few times he had been into the emergency room hadn't been pretty. Rowan didn't cooperate, he got frightened and nervous and if strangers tried to touch him he would scream and have a meltdown. Added to the fact that he didn't feel well was a recipe for disaster.

"I'll talk to Bobby and come straight down, okay? Try to keep him calm and wait outside for me if you have to, I won't be long baby I promise."

"Thank you."

Evan raked his fingers through his hair and spun on his heels, scouting round to look for Bobby. He saw Bobby sat at the table, nursing a steaming cup of tea, sat chatting to Chimney about something that was clearly amusing since they were both laughing.

He began tapping his phone against his thigh as he headed over and stood at Bobby's side, gingerly tapping his shoulder. "Can we talk?" Evan dipped his head to the side to silently plead that he wanted a word in private.

He could see the concern pooling in Bobby's eyes but the Captain nodded nonetheless. He set down his cup, nodded at Chimney and got up to follow Evan towards the stairs. Clearly something had to be wrong if Evan didn't want to talk in front of the team.

"What's up… is something going on?"

"I…" He didn't know how to word this. He hadn't told any of them about his family, none of them even knew he was married. Let alone that he had a son.

He sighed, tapping his phone against the palm of his hand as he fidgeted his weight from one foot to the other. He had to do this, he had to go because it wouldn't be fair to (Y/n) or Rowan to leave them both at the hospital without him. Rowan was going to have a meltdown, he would be scared out of his wits and if they had to take him for a scan or give him any kind of shot or IV, (Y/n) would have to pin him down. Evan had to be there with her.

"Bobby, I don't wanna ask, but I… I have a family emergency, I need to go to the hospital. Can I go? I'll make up the overtime I swear."

"Is everything okay?" He wasn't pushing or prying, he was testing the waters. Testing whether Evan felt comfortable enough to open up and tell him what was going on.

He sighed and looked down at his phone and when he unlocked it, he showed his homescreen to Bobby. Evan's favourite picture; the three of them when they were at the beach and the five year old had the cheesiest grin on his face. Rowan had such a lovely smile and his laugh was like music to Evan's ears, but it was hard to capture his smile in a picture, he seemed to sense the camera and stopped smiling immediately.

Which was why Evan loved the picture, it had been the first selfie he took of the three of them where Rowan continued to laugh. Evan had (Y/n) laid between his legs and Rowan stood up in her arms, leant back against her chest, his head tossed back in the brightest smile Evan had ever seen.

"My boy, Rowan. He's in the emergency room, he's not been well but he's got brain damage, he… he doesn't like doctors, I need to be there to help calm him down."

He could see the wave of emotions rushing across Bobby's hazel eyes. Surprise, confusion, revelation, happiness and then panic. All together, all at once. All for Evan.

"Go. Don't worry about the overtime, as long as you message me and let me know everything's okay and how he is. And I wanna know everything about them when you're back."

Relief had never taken hold of Evan so much as it did in that moment. He could feel his knees close to giving way beneath him and before he could stop himself, he pushed forward and looped his arms around Bobby's neck. He reeled his Captain in for a hug that took him by surprise, but caused a quiet laugh to rumble Bobby's chest.

"Thank you." Sincerity clung to Evan's voice and he felt Bobby pat his shoulder before he spun and bolted for the stairs.

He had to go grab his bag and keys and make his way down to the hospital. He had to go get to his family.

It didn't take him long to get there and Evan pulled up in the closest space he could find, barely locking the jeep before he was bolting down the path towards the emergency room.

His body turned to the right, aiming for the reception desk, ignoring the waiting room that was oddly full for lunchtime on a weekday. He knew the protocol, they would see that Rowan was autistic and they would try and get him seen to first. And if Evan couldn't hear his son then he wasn't in the waiting room, he would be in one of the assessment rooms with a doctor.

"I'm here for Rowan Buckley, my wife brought him in about twenty minutes ago."

"Buckley… he's in cubicle three, straight down the corridor, I'll buzz you in."

Evan sighed and mumbled his thanks before he bolted through the door as soon as the receptionist pressed the button, allowing Evan through into the assessment ward.

He couldn't contain the relief he felt as his knees shook and he bolted over to his family once the room was within his sight.

(Y/n) was stood in the middle of the room, next to the bed that Rowan was sat on. She had her arms around his middle, letting him lean back into her chest while she kissed the top of his head. But as soon as Rowan looked up, something sparkled in his eyes and he started his round of screeching noises that sounded similar to 'mememe' over and over.

"Hey buddy, hey I'm here." Evan crouched down in front of the bed and let Rowan push forward into his arms.

He could feel Rowan's crackling breaths in his neck and his usual murmurs and noises faded into sharp breaths. He'd never heard Rowan so out of breath before. Rowan could usually make noises over and over without looking like he was breathing, he even hummed as he ate sometimes. Hearing him so out of breath and feeling the way he clung to Evan made him want to cry.

"How is he?" Evan let Rowan tuck into his chest and he kissed his hair before he looked up at (Y/n).

"They think it's pneumonia, I asked them to wait for you, they wanna do bloods and an X-ray, he's not gonna like that."

A groan burned at the back of Evan's throat and he tilted his head down, burrowing his nose and lips into Rowan's curls for a few moments to try and gather some strength and courage from somewhere. Rowan wasn't good with needles, he wouldn't be okay with them taking bloods from him and an X-ray was going to frighten the life out of him. Evan had had more than his fair share during his teenage years.

(Y/n) moved round the other side of the bed and perched down next to Rowan while she reached down for Evan. Her fingers feathered along his neck and across his shoulder and she managed a soft smile when Evan leaned his head on her thigh.

They stayed like that for a few moments until the door opened and the nurse who had seen them earlier walked back in along with a doctor.

Nurse Janey had been very sweet with Rowan and he had been calm enough to let her take his temperature, but he wouldn't let her do anything else.

They had all been very understanding whereas some people, even health professionals, weren't considerate with Rowan. (Y/n) had walked out of a doctor's appointment before when the GP sighed and tutted at Rowan as if he could control the way he felt or the noises he made and he hadn't understood why Rowan wouldn't sit still or cooperate.

This room was a children's assessment room, clearly. Evan took note of the flowers and clouds painted onto the walls and the few toys in the corner of the room to help kids concentrate and feel calm.

"I take it this is dad?" Janey placed a clipboard down on the table and smiled at Evan when he stood up and nodded. He kept an arm around Rowan's shoulders, letting his boy lean against his leg while he coughed and rocked back and forth on the bed.

"I'm Frida, I'd like to check Rowan over and then take some bloods. I know that won't be easy, but if we can get this confirmed as pneumonia, we can get him on antibiotics and hopefully send you all home."

The doctor walked over to the three of them and wheeled a stool over so she could sit in front of Rowan. She removed the stethoscope from her neck and placed it in her ears, looking between both parents for their approval before looking down at Rowan.

"I need to listen to his breathing."

She tried to move the stethoscope near Rowan's back, but he wasn't impressed. He leaned back into (Y/n), pushing back when she tried to lean him forwards and as soon as the doctor's hand was near him, he smacked her hand away.

"Rowan no, don't do that." Evan held his hand and sat down next to him on the bed while (Y/n) kept hold of his waist and tilted him forwards.

A low grumble whined past his lips and he mixed between coughing and something like a growl when the stethoscope pressed down on his back. He shimmied his shoulders from side to side, trying his best to get away but he was surprised when the doctor pulled away after a minute. He clearly assumed every test was going to hurt.

"Okay, blood pressure next. This doesn't hurt, sweetheart." Her smile was calming, but she could see the five year old didn't trust or understand her.

His head tilted to the side and a perplexed look filled his curious yet weary eyes when he looked at the black band that was moving suspiciously near his arm. He let Evan lift his arm up but when the band went around his wrist, he screamed and flung both arms out, shuffling back into (Y/n).

"Baby it's okay," (Y/n) soothed, kissing his temple as she leaned into the bed to cuddle Rowan, but he shook his head from side to side and kept screaming in protest. His arms flapped at his sides like a bird trying to take flight and Evan dragged his hand across his chin. He wished he could show Rowan it wouldn't hurt and that he was safe, but words weren't going to do that.

"If he'd feel safer with you doing it, that's fine." Frida held the blood pressure cuff out to Evan when she clocked the logo on his shirt.

He knew what he was doing and Rowan was his boy, he would trust Evan not to hurt him.

"Buddy, look. Safe, see, it's okay." Evan slipped his arm through the cuff and strapped it around his forearm to show Rowan it wasn't something to hurt. He kept tapping it until Rowan reached out to skim his fingers across the material, and then Evan tapped his shirt. It was like a piece of clothing.

Part of him felt bad. He knew once the band tightened around Rowan's arm, his son was going to lose trust in him. He was going to have a fit and scream and become angry that Evan had lied to him because that tightening feeling would resonate as pain for Rowan. But they needed to make sure he was okay and the more tests Rowan had, the more he would become used to them.

They had to get him used to hospitals for the future, for any other illness or problems he had. He had to know that this was to make him better.

"Daddy's doing it, see?" (Y/n) murmured against his ear and she lifted Rowan up to sit him on her lap.

He coughed and made his usual mumbling sound, but he stopped fighting when Evan slid the band around his arm and strapped it around.

The way Rowan looked between Evan and the band had Evan's heart picking up and he felt like he was going to be sick once he turned the machine on.

(Y/n) looped both arms around Rowan's waist, her eyes locked with her husband as he shuffled closer until their knees were touching. She shivered, pulling in on herself when a shrill scream left Rowan's lips. His right hand immediately moved towards the band and his breathing turned into escalated, shallow huffs as he began to panic.

He dug his fingers into the band and tried to wrench it off until Evan held his hand, but he flung his arm out, trying his best to hit Evan or (Y/n) or anyone he could reach. He didn't like it. They were hurting him. They were scaring him.

He continued to scream until he didn't have any air left and his shoulders bashed into (Y/n)'s chest as he wriggled from side to side, trying to shimmy his way off her lap.

"Shh, baby it's okay. Almost done, almost done baby."

"Buddy, look at daddy. It's okay." Evan kissed the palm of Rowan's hand before he pressed Rowan's hand against his cheek. He leaned closer until their noses were touching, something Rowan loved doing almost as if it was his way of giving kisses to those he loved.

Their eyes locked for a few seconds and Rowan paused his screams and slowed down his wriggling attempts to break free. Evan knew his boy had to be calm or the blood pressure reading would be sky high and it wouldn't be accurate. He had to calm down to get the most accurate reading so they knew if he was okay or if his blood pressure was high before he began to panic.

"All done."

As soon as the band was unstrapped from his arm, Rowan let out a frustrated scream and slapped his hands down on his legs as he shook back and forth like he was telling them he wasn't impressed.

"What's the best way to take bloods? I'd assume he won't like his arm being held behind his back?"

For some children, they would get them to have their arms pinned against their back so they couldn't see the needle. But Doctor Frida guessed that would only send Rowan into a further state of panic which they didn't want to do. But they needed to take bloods, and it would be best to do that now rather than have to get a specialist to come down to put him under anaesthetic which would only upset Rowan all over again.

Evan looked across at (Y/n), both of them sharing a look before Evan reached out for him. They were going to have to restrain him. It was the only way Rowan would let them do anything.

"What we did for the vaccines?" Evan muttered, to which (Y/n) nodded. They had formed a routine for his vaccines which had worked well, only giving Evan minimal bruises afterwards.

Shuffling back, Evan sat up on the centre of the bed and spread his legs. Once he patted his thighs, Rowan immediately crawled over to sit with him. Evan spun him round so Rowan was sat with his back against his dad's chest and he smiled when (Y/n) shuffled closer next to his thigh.

Evan deadlocked his left arm around Rowan's torso, pressed his lips against his head and pinned his right arm over his son's chest right across his collar bone. He made sure he wasn't holding too tight, but just enough so Rowan wasn't going to be able to get out of his hold.

"Hands please." (Y/n) smiled and held her hands out to Rowan, waiting patiently for him to place his palms in hers and squeeze.

"Quickly."

Evan's marching order was heeded and understood.

The doctor placed a tie strap around Rowan's right arm just above his elbow which made him frown, but he didn't move. As soon as his eyes locked on the needle, he was pushing back into Evan's chest like it would make a difference or allow him to escape.

(Y/n) held his hands tightly, trying not to hurt or bruise him and she pulled on his arms so they stayed straight and he couldn't hit out at them.

Once the needle was in his arm, Rowan screamed.

It was a horrid sound that mixed with the tears that began to stream down his face. He gasped, drawing in another gulp of air that he used to belt out another scream. His feet began to lift and swat down against the bed until Evan lifted his right leg and looped it on top of his son's legs, pinning them down to the bed.

Evan braced his chest but he gasped when Rowan slammed his head back into his chest. It was enough to wind him and he knew he would be bruised later, but he held strong and tensed up into Rowan. This was for his own good and it wouldn't hurt for long.

"Shh, buddy it's okay."

"Brave boy, you're doing so good." (Y/n) kissed the back of his hands but she bit down on her lip when Rowan screamed and tried to scratch her wrists. His nails pierced her skin deep enough to draw blood and he shook her arms until she pinned his arms down into Evan's thighs. He couldn't do that or he would move the needle imbedded into his elbow. They couldn't have him ripping a vein and getting blood everywhere, that would be extreme pain that Rowan wouldn't be able to cope with.

The doctor murmured "Almost there," as she switched the vile for another one. They had all agreed to do as many tests as they could, to make sure everything else was alright. They wanted to test for any infections other than pneumonia and make sure Rowan wasn't lacking any vitamins and blood tests would check his organs like his liver and kidney function.

It was safer to do more tests since Rowan couldn't tell them if he was in pain or if anything was wrong. This would keep him safe and healthy.

"Shit! Rowan- Rowan don't do that!"

Evan growled, closing his eyes and tipping his head back when Rowan sank his teeth down into Evan's forearm.

He'd never done that before.

He had hit, slapped and kicked both parents before when he was frightened or in a meltdown, but he had never bitten either of them. But Evan's arm was across the top of his chest. It was pinning him down, preventing him from moving. It was right there and with his legs pinned down and (Y/n) holding his arms, the only way Rowan could express his fright was to bite down on the arm beneath his chin.

"Rowan no!" (Y/n) fumbled to hold his hands in one so she could reach out for his chin. She wriggled his jaw and leaned closer to make him relent, if he locked his jaw he would bite Evan hard enough to draw blood and they didn't want that.

"Done."

The doctor was quick to pull away from the situation and as soon as she did, Evan loosened his grip. He held his arms out at his sides and moved his legs, letting Rowan scuttle from his arms and flop onto (Y/n)'s lap instead.

He screamed into (Y/n)'s knees, bashing his fists into her legs as he curled up over her lap, shaking and silently asking for comfort.

"Are you okay?" She looked across at Evan and shuffled closer while she lifted Rowan up and settled him on her chest so his head was on her shoulder.

Her eyes focused on Evan as he shook his wrist to get some feeling back but he let her reach out for his arm. He skimmed her fingers over the teeth marks in his forearm and cringed. He was going to have a large bruise there in a few hours, and those indents were sharp enough to draw blood wheels beneath the skin.

"That hurt more than a tattoo." Evan muttered under his breath, but there was no malice or annoyance in his tone. He understood Rowan's fright and seeing Rowan curl into (Y/n) told them he knew he had done wrong.

A bite mark was worth it when it meant making sure Rowan was going to be okay. It was more than worth it.

***

"Cap… you're here." Surprise flooded Evan's voice but he couldn't help the way his lips curved up into a smile when he looked down the corridor.

They were all here.

His team had come down to the hospital to see him- to see his family. They didn't have to do this. They had all done a long shift, they should be heading home to their own families and relaxing before their next shift. They didn't have to come down here and check on him.

"We don't wanna intrude, but you didn't call."

"We just want to know if everything's okay." Hen stuffed her hand in her back pocket and jutted one hip out to the side.

She still couldn't quite believe that Buck had his own little family. She pegged him as being in a relationship by the way he didn't talk about going on dates or meeting anyone and every time someone on a call asked him on a date, he just blushed and kindly turned them down.

And there was something natural and loving about the way Evan was with all the kids when they were out on a call. He knew how to calm them down and talk to them and get to their level, but no one guessed he had a wife and child hidden away at home.

"Cap said you've got a boy, why didn't you say anything? You know him and Chris will probably hit it off, right?" Eddie nudged Evan's arm and gave his shoulder a tap before he looked around, trying to guess which room held Evan's family.

It had been a long time since Eddie had been down in the children's ward of any hospital. He forgot how bright and colourful everything was here.

"I just wanted to find the right time to introduce you all… Rowan can get attached but, not everyone can understand him." It may take Rowan a while to get used to new people, but once he did, he loved them completely. Evan had to be sure the team could understand him and more importantly, be willing to take the time to learn his ways, before he introduced them.

"Is he okay?"

"Pneumonia, but he's on antibiotics, and he takes after me with his appetite, so he's gonna be fine. We can head home in the morning."

Rowan had no problems taking the liquid antibiotics the nurse brought round every few hours. And he had eaten all the dinner they gave him and he tried to take Evan's dinner too which showed he was feeling better.

He had taken a powdered inhaler, mainly because he thought it was a toy, and his breathing was evening out.

The only thing the nurses couldn't do was give him an IV drip or an oxygen clip in his nose. But they were satisfied that Rowan was drinking enough of the shakes and juices they gave him so he didn't need an IV. Once he was cleared in the morning, he would be going home with a weeks supply of antibiotics.

"Oh, Buck that's great." Bobby nodded and his smile was full of relief. He had been on edge all afternoon since Evan left. He just wanted to know everything was okay.

It made sense, all the pieces clicked into place after Evan left. His little ways, his habits, his nervousness about wanting to go home or when something seemed off. It all made sense when Bobby understood who Evan had waiting for him at home, and he wanted to check on Evan before he went home so he didn't have to worry all night.

"Do you wanna come and say hi?" Evan pointed behind him at the room he had been ready to enter before the team walked down the corridor. He had gone for a coffee for him and (Y/n) while Rowan was settled.

"You sure?"

"Come and meet my family." Evan opened the door and pushed in before anyone could give it a second thought.

He knew the team were going to be his second family from now on and he wanted them all to meet and get along. If they could love and embrace his wife and son like they welcomed him into their family, everything would be fine.

[girlrotterr]

But I'm a Lesbian! pt.3

ellie x abby x dina x fem!reader a/n: a shorter chapter! But I promise chapter 4 will definitely be longer! anyways, enjoy angels! 💗

→ Part one! → Part two! → Part four! → Part five! → Part six!

Suddenly, like a starting gun had been fired, the four of you sprang into action. It was a dash to the showers, with elbows bumping and bodies jostling as you all struggled to be the first one in.

Abby, with her speed and strength, managed to dart ahead, closely followed by Ellie. You and Dina were neck and neck, both determined not to be left behind. In the chaos, you stumbled over each other's feet, arms flailing as you tried to maintain your balance.

"Watch it!" Ellie grumbled as she tried regaining her balance.

Eventually, you all reached the showers, each claiming a stall with exhaustion. The sound of rushing water filled the air as you quickly stripped off your clothes and stepped into the warmth. 

With only a few minutes to spare, you all hurriedly scrubbed yourselves clean, trying to make every second count.

“Fuck! Does anyone have shampoo?!" Ellie yelled, shaking her empty bottle in frustration.

"I do!" you exclaimed, quickly grabbing your shampoo bottle and rushing over to Ellie's stall. 

Ellie's eyes widened seeing you approach, her initial reaction being to dart her gaze away, her face turning a deep shade of red. 

fuckk..you were naked.

Without hesitation, you squeezed a generous amount of shampoo into her waiting hand. 

“t-thanks..” Ellie stammered, her voice slightly shaky. 

"I think I need some too~," Dina purred, her voice flirtatious, waving her hand dramatically as if in desperate need.

"Shit, me too!" Abby chimed in, her head popping out of her stall, trying to catch sight of you.

"You're both so unoriginal," Ellie grumbled, rolling her eyes in annoyance.

"I'll be right there!" you replied, turning around to share shampoo with Abby and Dina.

Ellie's gaze lingered on you for a moment, eyeing the way your hips swayed, the curves of your body traced by droplets of water. The softness of your skin, illuminating in a soft glow. There was a certain beauty in your movements, a grace that captured her attention. 

She craved to discover it. 

───

Soon enough, you found yourselves in the cooking classroom, greeted by the aroma of various ingredients. Rows of kitchen stations awaited, each equipped with utensils, pots, and pans. 

The teacher, a seasoned chef, greeted the four of you. “Hello, ladies! Today, we'll be making some classic breakfast dishes," she announced. 

"It's important to start every day with a nutritious meal, especially for your husband," she added with a wink. 

The four of you blankly stared at her. 

The teacher clapped her hands, signaling the start of the cooking session. "Right then! Chop, chop!"

"Just follow my lead," Dina reassured, playfully smacking your ass before guiding you to the station next to hers.

Ellie took charge of cracking eggs, her movements precise and efficient. Abby occupied the stove, flipping pancakes with a flick of her wrist. 

Dina always experimented with different ingredients, adding a dash of spice here and there to enhance the flavors. As for you, your focus was on whipping up a batch of fluffy scrambled eggs, gently stirring them in a skillet.

"Here," Dina said, pausing her tasks and stepping behind you, "You'll hurt your wrist if you do it like that."

She gently took hold of your hand, her touch delicate yet firm. Her fingertips tracing along your skin, leaving a trail of warmth. As she leaned closer, her chest pressed against your back, you could feel the heat radiating from her body.

Your palms grew moist with sweat, and a slight tremble ran through your fingers. Flustered, you struggled to maintain composure, your cheeks warming with a faint blush. 

"Oh," you murmured, turning to meet her gaze, "thank you."

Dina smiled warmly. "You’re so cutee!!" she remarked, pulling you into a tight hug. "Marry mee!!” 

Just then, the cooking instructor approached Abby,  “Abby, the nurse needs you,"

Abby glanced up from her station, faking a face of concern. "What for?" she asked, wiping her hands on her apron.

The teacher shrugged. "I'm not sure, but she sounded urgent. You better go check."

"Alright," she nodded at the instructor before turning to the rest of you. "Catch you later, guys," she said with a smirk.

The three of you exchanged knowing glances.

"Mhm.." Dina remarked, her tone suspicious.

───

Thud!

With a forceful slam, the nurse's back collided with the wall, a small whimper escaping her lips as Abby pressed her against it. The nurse's eyes widened in surprise, her breath hitching as she felt Abby's strong grip on her wrists.

Abby leaned in closer, her voice low and seductive. "You’re so fucking impatient.." she whispered, her breath warm against the nurse's ear.

The nurse's cheeks flushed crimson, excitement coursing through her veins. She struggled to find her words, her heart pounding in her chest. Before she could respond, Abby's lips crashed against hers in a hungry kiss, sending a surge of pleasure. The nurse squeezed her thighs together, her hands reaching up to tangle in Abby's hair.

As their lips parted, the nurse's breath came out in ragged gasps, her eyes glazed with desire. "I-I needed you," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper.

Abby flashed her a grin, her eyes burning with desire. "fuckk…" she murmured, trailing kisses along the nurse's neck. “Let's see how long you last this time."

───

Dina leaned in with a mischievous glint in her eye. “I've been thinking," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sizzling of the stove.

You and Ellie exchanged curious glances, waiting for Dina to continue.

"We should sneak into the director's office tonight and steal back our stuff," Dina proposed, a smirk plastered on her lips.

Ellie crossed her arms, her expression firm. "Fuck no." 

"What?! Why not?" Dina whined, clearly disappointed. 

Ellie sighed, "I'm already three strikes down," 

"We won't get caught if we plan it!" Dina insisted, nudging Ellie's arm. 

You nodded in agreement with Dina, "She's right, Ellie," you chimed in, "We'll plan it out and make sure everything goes smoothly. We won't leave any evidence behind."

Ellie raised an eyebrow, surprised by your willingness to participate. 

"Come onn, El's!" Dina groaned,  "Don't you want your finger—"

"Okay!" Ellie interrupted, cutting Dina off before subjecting her to more teasing. "But you owe me a pack of cigarettes.." she huffed in annoyance.

Dina grinned. "deal!" she replied cheerfully.

A sudden small buzzing sound caught Ellie's attention, a tickle on her right shoulder. She glanced over to see a pesky fly. 

"Don't move," you whispered urgently, eyeing the fly.

Dina, sensing an opportunity, slowly raised her hand, ready to swat the fly. But just as she made her move, the fly darted away, escaping her grasp.

"Damn it!" Dina exclaimed in frustration, waving her hand through the air attempting to catch it. 

The fly continued to buzz around the kitchen. Ellie, determined to get rid of it, swatted at the air wildly. You, too, joined in the frenzy, swinging a dish towel in an attempt to kill it. 

“Don’t let it land on the food!” Dina urged. 

In your frantic attempts to catch the fly, bottles of oil and water were knocked over, creating a slippery mess on the floor. Ellie, caught off guard by the slick surface, slipped and crashed to the ground with a loud thud. 

“Argh! Damn it!” Ellie groaned in pain.

Meanwhile, your efforts caused water to splash onto a cooking pot, leading to a sudden burst of sizzling oil that sent you yelping in pain. 

“Ouch!” you shouted, stumbling back and landing on top of ellie.

Amidst the chaos, everyone momentarily forgot about the bacon, sizzling on the hot stove. It was beginning to burn, filling the kitchen with thick smoke that billowed up toward the ceiling.

“Hey guys,” Dina called out amidst the commotion, “Something’s burning..”

Abby walked back into the kitchen, disheveled with lipstick marks scattered across her neck. “Hey guys, I’m back...” her voice trailed off. 

She stood frozen for a moment, taking in the utter chaos that had unfolded while she was gone. 

Ellie was still on the floor, rubbing her bruised body, while Dina was frantically trying to clean up the spilled oil and water, her clothes stained and her hair in disarray. Whilst frantically trying to dodge splattering oil from the pot. You were scrambling to turn off the stove, desperately trying to salvage whatever remained of the bacon.

“What the fuck happened?!” Abby exclaimed, slowly walking over

Before anyone could respond, the sprinkler system activated, sending gushes of water down from the ceiling. Abby stood frozen in shock as she was drenched by the downpour, her already disheveled appearance now completely soaked.

The kitchen descended into madness as everyone scrambled to avoid the flood of water, slipping and sliding on the now-slippery floor. Ellie let out a frustrated groan, while Dina cursed loudly, and you desperately tried to shield the food from the onslaught of water.

Abby shook her head in disbelief, “I should’ve just stayed for round two..” 

[cumikering]

Ex bf John Price x reader

1.6k | angst Price was back in Liverpool (part 2)

“John?”

That voice was definite. It couldn't be, but there you stood when he turned.

A soft smile spread across your lips. “I recognised the beanie.”

It was your gift from all those years ago, dark grey with his initials, JMFP, embroidered on the bottom.

He chuckled, the kind that made his eyes crinkle.

“How long has it been? 5 years?”

He shifted his weight. “Thereabouts.” Has it really been that long?

The last time you saw each other was when he dropped you off the train station, three years’ worth of your relationship dragged behind in your luggage. It was much heavier than it looked.

You stood in front of the train, your back to him, unmoving. His heart had been in his throat since the night before, ever since you started packing, when ‘our apartment’ became simply ‘John’s’. His nails dug into his palms, wishing you’d turn around. There were still a few seconds for you to change your mind.

You boarded - your one-way trip back to Liverpool.

“I didn’t expect you to still have it.”

He was exposed. He wished he didn't wear the beanie, but it was always his favourite.

“You alright?

“Never better.” His cheeks ached, or was it his chest? “You?”

He didn’t need to ask. It was easy to see. Your eyes bright, cheeks flushed from the weather. You looked as good as the day he met you.

In his worn fleece button down, he was self-conscious of how he was still the same at best, but who was he kidding - the years hadn’t been kind to him. Nowadays his scruff was an excuse to not have to shave so often.

You weren’t supposed to meet again, and not there of all places, but it was funny really. It was the same place you first met. The memories flooded in.

It was no secret that people could only pick one: military or family. Well, most of them anyway, some lucky bastards got to have both. John didn’t care about having to choose when he walked down this path in life. He never had plans for relationships, and the disinterest served him well, allowing him to excel over his peers. Until you came along.

Still a lieutenant then, John was back home in Liverpool browsing the beer aisle at the nearest supermarket. Next to him, your first summer after uni, you were in charge of the drinks for your brother’s birthday BBQ. You asked if he could help you with the overwhelming selection. When he carried the purchase back to your car, you invited him to the party instead.

You were inseparable the rest of the summer. Each touch seared his skin and he felt 10 years younger. Despite the circumstances, the both of you were unwilling to leave the fire behind. Between deployments, you always made time to visit each other, connection unwavering.

Having you in front of him was surreal. He stood there with knees that didn’t work like they used to, his head constantly thumping. He’d taken a beating and the years between you were felt further. Like you were frozen in time and he was… here. You were unforgettable, but the air around you was foreign. You didn’t look at him like you used to. Maybe that’s what happened if he wasn’t your muse anymore.

You would have followed him to the end of the world. He knew it – you did it. After a year, you dropped all you knew. Your family, life-long friends, the job you were after the whole of uni. You started all over for him.

With you, he was on top of the world, the luckiest man defying the odds. Life fell into a comfortable rhythm. You made do; got yourself a decent job, far from perfect but it was a sacrifice you were willing to make.

On track to becoming a captain, guilt sat heavy in his chest when he left you for weeks on end, but the kisses grew sweeter the longer he went, and your grateful smile at the door told him it was alright. He could have both you and the SAS.

“I got my dream job a few months ago.”

Of course you did. It’s you.

“I heard you got shot in the leg this year. Hope you’re doing better.”

He grimaced. “Who told you?”

“Your mum. She calls sometimes.”

He let out a small sigh. “She always loved you.”

“The 141 doing alright?”

He hung his head and gave a weak nod. He preferred you to not ask.

Death was the soulmate of war. It was the harsh reality how countless comrades of his fell, some you knew personally - their wives and kids and how the horrors haunted even years after.

Distant worry swirled into a dark cloud. Someone else was in the relationship. The reaper loomed as she went down her roll call and it couldn’t help but look like John was waiting for his turn with a smile, his doom as certain as the fall of the night.

At first, John was optimistic. When the thoughts consumed, he calmed you down with a few days at home, never leaving your side.  Over time, it was evident he couldn’t – you couldn’t. Him working overtime didn’t make you miss him more, coming home after weeks apart was no longer sweet.

Each day ate at you, knowing it could very well be one of his last. This was going nowhere but straight into a singular outcome. With each name scratched out, you were haunted by progressively worse nightmares. It was unhealthy - he could see it on you.

You loved rings. He got you one for each anniversary. When he gave you his family heirloom, thinking the commitment would soothe you, you gave it back to him. No ring could unearth the dread in your chest. Nothing would change how this was going to play out.

The rest of the evening was tense, and when you jerked awake later that night, the lump in your throat only swelled. Your whole body begged you to run. He could taste it in your hasty kisses, your touches fleeting.

The fear in your eyes had morphed into guilt. That’s when he knew it was over.

When John came back from his next mission, you told him you were leaving, tears down your cheeks. He knew it was coming, but it hurt all the same.

How could he hate you, even if you left? Even after you dropped everything to be with him. It was always too good to be true.

Happy endings didn’t belong to him. The fact crawled under his skin in the chill of the night, etched into the pastel dawn sky of empty desserts, howled by the wind. He’d done more than enough terrible things to be denied of the niceties of the world. You were the best thing in his, but it was much too late.

You always said you were both too young, that when you decided to be together, you didn’t fully understand what a relationship with him entailed. You said you didn’t want to make him choose, that he didn’t deserve to be forced to choose. Said he was excellent at what he did, and you weren’t going to take that away.

That night before you left, you kissed for the last time. You forced a smile through the tears as he looked at you with gut-wrenching longing. He wanted to remember forever the softness your skin, the gasps you let out when he touched you, the way your eyes shut, his name tumbling out of your lips as your back arched.

John wasn’t a crier, but the unshed tears stung. He chanted ‘I love you’ against every inch of you. Maybe if he said it enough you’d change your mind. He wasn’t in his body when he started sobbing. You held each other until sleep took over, and he thought he wouldn’t be upset if he didn’t wake again.

Perhaps you were right. How far he’d come could only be credited to the undying drive in him. It was a blessing and a curse as it cost him you. So he devoted the rest of him into work. It was the only thing he had, the only thing left to do to make losing your worth it, but nothing softened the blow.

When you left, his world capsized, drained. It took him over a year to put the pieces back together, but he could have sworn you’d taken some with you. You’d awoken a desire in him that never got satiated again. You left him high and dry with a bleeding chest.

You were more than just someone, more than just a partner. You were the one he was going to settle down for, even if he never could figure out how to reconcile the idea.

John closed his eyes. Was this a sick joke the world was playing on him? In the midst of uncertainty, in his unending sorrow where the fantasy of giving it all up had budded, why now?

With you in front of him, the kind eyes, the curve of your pretty lips - he could almost hear you say ‘we should have tried harder’. He knew he would. I just need you to ask. Ask and I’m yours in a heartbeat.

“Nice seeing you, John. Merry Christmas. Take care, okay?”

He let out an unsteady sigh.No matter how much it hurt, no matter how many what ifs and the parallel universes he'd ventured out to, he knew this was for the best.

At least you looked happier. That's the most he could get, as a man with sins too heavy to carry.  Maybe he’d get another chance when the world ran out of bad guys. Maybe in another life.

He forced a smiled and you turned.

He pretended not to notice the glint of gold on your left hand.

@glitterypirateduck @sofasoap @shadofireshinobi @tiredmetalenthusiast @gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot @caramlizedtomatoes @two-gh0sts @rowanyaboats

[sunnymoonxx]

❝what was rule number #2 again❞ I.| bucky barnes x reader

pairing: tfatws bucky x reader summary: messing around in banner's lab, the night before your mission wasn't as good an idea as you thought, and you begin to question your actions the moment you step out of it. things worsen when you realize the super soldier serum isn't immune to an unknown contagious disease. warnings: sex pollen, no warnings this part, the II one? hahaha

a/n: I may have insulted the reader a few times in the beginning, so I apologize for that. but let's be honest, we'd do the same. I decided to split this fic into two parts because if I wrote it all into one part, it'd have 10k words. I'm not an english native speaker, so forgive me my sins and bad grammar if you find something.

m.list

You weren't stupid. But you also weren't exactly smart. If you were, you would've minded your own business, stayed in the gym, and went through the plan for tomorrow's mission. Maybe even go to bed a little sooner, to be ready for the next day's alarm. But Banner was away for a business trip, and seeing his lab silent and alone didn't exactly sing you lullabies to sleep. That's why you found yourself standing in the heart of it at 3 a.m., in your pajamas, praying everyone was asleep. It was well known around the compound that Banner's and Stark's labs were a faraway island, and anybody with a brain would circle around them. But you were an excellent swimmer and sharks didn't scare you.

10 hours later, you realised why Banner turned green every time someone even glared the glass door of his science play room. You were a fast swimmer but not exactly a bright one. The only bright thing related to you was that you were easily struck by it. And the glowing pink flowers in Doc's terrarium took you down faster than the sharks. It was bright pink with purple shadows. It reminded you of passionflower, but it was bigger. Way bigger, and you weren't sure if you were hallucinating, but the feeling of the flower's filaments moving was too strong. They were moving in waves, then circles, then each moved in its own way. It was mesmerising.

It was too late before you realized you moved the flower out of its enclosure to get a closer look at it. The smell hit you hard, filling your brain with colorful fog. You smelled a dash of cinnamon, mixed with ginger and lavender. You couldn't miss the powerful vanilla and pumpkin filling up the room. You didn't realize how bad the consequences of smelling Doc's flower would be until you came undone under your fingers nearly seven times. And it still wasn't enough. The scheduled time of your and Barnes' meeting was quickly approaching, and your skin didn't feel less on fire than it did two hours ago.

You managed to get out of the sweaty mattress and put some clothes on you, loose ones, hoping that your skin could breathe a little. You prayed some air would cool you down, clear your head, and slap some sense into you. It was now obvious why Banner was so determined not to let anyone close his lab. He was experimenting with aphrodisiacs, and you, unwillingly, became one of his lab rats. Thoughts didn't stop multiplying in your head until one landed steadily on its feet. Tony has been visiting Doc's labs the last few weeks, five minutes on the dot after curfew. You knew because you were always stationed on your balcony, which gave you a clear view of the other building, and its glass windows didn't hide much. It only became pitch black when Tony came in, and Banner didn't even flinch when he heard the door shut.

Chuckle left your lips when you connected the dots, ignoring how amusing you must look for Barnes, sitting right next to him.

"Something funny?" he asked, not dropping his gaze off of you. You were now on your way to the target's last seen place, being lucky enough to get a ride in Tony's self-driven car. You wanted to drown him in kisses because you can only imagine the suffering if you had to walk all the way from the compound to the other side of the city. Your skin was still on fire, your hair was sticking to your neck, and salty drops chased each other on your skin. You certainly were an amusing sight to Bucky. Or a terrifying one. You wished he got used to it by now. After all these years of fighting against each other, then with each other, and now forced to fight by each other's side, he saw you through worse conditions. But as far as he knew, you were locked in your room all week. You had no reason to look like you had an early meeting with the reaper.

"Just, thinking," you mumbled back at him, forcing yourself to keep your head rested against your seat, begging your body to not betray you for looking back at your partner. Your body fighting the chemicals in your body, you could only imagine how it would end if you stared at Barnes for more than five seconds. Worse, let alone if you touched him. You read about aphrodisiacs and scientists' failed attempts to know what you were going through. You were prepared to die before touching Barnes.

You were secretly jealous. It wasn't fair of you, but Barnes' serum running through his veins protected him from anything related. You almost abandoned your morals, but the pain you were going through justified it. You had no idea how you were going to focus on the mission, communicate with James, and, if it came to it, fight the target. You could only focus on the heat between your legs and how touch-starved you were. And your, undeniably, attractive coworker wasn't helping the case.

You and James had a complicated history. Both born in the 40s and dated for a while before he fell from the train. Years later, he comes to kill you for Howard's successful experiment on you. Immortality would definitely suit HYDRA and their planned assassinations. James, back then, the Winter Soldier, failed to capture you, so they decided your family's fate. And your friends. Then, years later, Howard's. You forgave him. All of it. Because you knew it wasn't him. But when he came back from Wakanda, with no traces of HYDRA in him, and didn't spare you a glance, you couldn't forgive him that. Seventy years of tolerating the actions HYDRA made him do, and he couldn't even look at you. It broke your heart but rather to act like a cunt than a weepy baby, begging for attention that will never come.

"Well then, do it fast. We're almost there." You hear his grumpy voice, making the butterflies in your stomach double their count. The decades-old memories of you together overwhelmed your brain like a tsunami. You couldn't swim out of that. The way his tongue circled your clit as you played with his hair at the theatre restroom. Or when he made you ride his face with Steve in the house. The way he pounded into you against the wall so you wouldn't forget him when he gets shipped out the next morning. And the way he had to cover your mouth that night at the bar, celebrating his unit's rescue. Now he was sitting millimetres away from you, and he wouldn't have done any of it. You still hoped, subconsciously, he'd dick you down like he did all those years ago. But that was a fantasy. Very vivid, real fantasy.

"Yes, sir," you let out, closing your eyes, tugging on your shirt so your fingers wouldn't accidentally slip in between your thighs. You didn't wanna make a scene. Even tho at some point, you knew you would.

You didn't catch James' hungry gaze when he heard those words slip from your mouth. At the back of his head, he reminiscent the amount of times it was him, slipping out of it.

It took you exactly 17 minutes before you got yourself out of Tony's car. You accidentally grinded yourself on his leather seats, causing you to accidentally moan, and of course, Barnes caught it. He'd never miss that sweet sound leaving your lips. At nights, he wished he'd made you sound like that, even louder. But that was ages ago, and you were over him. It was the only thing that made sense to him.

Five minutes into your romantic stroll to the target's office, the wetness in your panties got worse. You figured the more you moved, the less it hurt, but the pleasure doubled. And the Avengers training lessons didn't exactly cover how to act if you're orgasming every five seconds just because your thighs rubbed against each other.

Correction, you didn't actually cum. It was more of a frustrating edging that made you wanna rip out your hair. You were sure Barnes had already figured something was off or had at least suspected something. The suppressed moans and the tugging on your crotch weren't exactly subtle.

"Alright," he stopped walking, a few meters away from a huge building. It was surrounded by a deep forest, straight from a horror movie. "he was last seen inside. If Steve's correct, we should..." You kept nodding, not actually paying attention to what he was saying. It was the way his metal arm moved when he talked and the way his fingers curled while explaining the plan. You never got the answer to your question if he could feel through his amputated arm. He had to, you thought. You heard him groan every time someone pulled it too hard. You were embarrassed how much it roused you when you heard him whimper in pain, but it was also one of the things that circled your head when you were alone in your room.

You'd imagine, would it feel different. It would definitely be cold, rougher, you suspected faster. And with the serum running in his veins, he'd definitely last longer. That, you were one hundred percent sure, for it was Natasha's moans you heard for over two days after she and Steve finally hit it off. But Nat was also a super soldier. Bucky would probably tire you out by the 2nd round. But you were willing to risk it.

"If you're not gonna be listening to me, then you can turn around and go back." Was the first thing you heard after you forced yourself out of Bucky's hand around your throat fantasies. It probably wasn't the best idea, but seeing Bucky frustrated and annoyed by your incompetence made you feel things. And you wanted more.

"Whatever you want, Sergeant." You smirked, walking past him towards the building. His smell punched you in the face, making your walls clench around nothing. Fuck. Your self-control was harder to put in check. You were sure in a few minutes it'd be non-existent.

"Whatever is your problem today," you heard him behind you. You didn't look at him, focusing on keeping a steady pace towards the building so you could finish the job, get home where you could fuck yourself to oblivion. No one, but your fingers were currently available. And even they couldn't sometimes do the job you needed. But you knew whose would.

"I'm talking to you." Your heart dropped when his hand landed on your shoulder. Your skin got warmer again, and the pulse between your legs was impossible to ignore. You didn't know if you wanted to kill him or fuck him.

Ideally, both.

Turning around, you found the strength to twist his arm, finding out it was his human one, making it easier to push him back. He looked so taken back that it was amusing. But not amusing enough to stop the aching of your cunt.

"Touch me again," and I won't answer for the consequences. You wanted to add. But you didn't. Instead, you stared back at him, praying to god you'd drop dead or something would happen to stop the throbbing pain. You wanted to push your pants down and do something about it, but Bucky's presence wouldn't let you. It would, seventy years ago.

God, the number of times he made you rub yourself in front of him, fuck yourself while he watched. Couldn't he do it now? You'd happily obey.

"You've been acting distant ever since morning," he said, taking a step closer. "I just wanna know what's wrong," he said, lowering his voice at the end. You were sure it was just the stupid plant making you see things, but Bucky's dark eyes were hard to miss. Or the sweat on his forehead. Or the way he clenched his jaw when his eyes dropped to your lips.

Your heart sank. Holy fuck.

You couldn't help but laugh. It was, after all, comical. You looked manic but that didn't bother you. You felt so many emotions at once that you struggled to choose one.

"What the hell are you doing," you heard his voice interrupt your laugh. You were out of your mind. Your legs weak and sweaty, your cunt covered in your wetness, your head filled with migraine, skin on fire, and thoughts surrounding only one thing. And now, cherry on top, you realize Banner discovered an aphrodisiacs that make the super soldier serum its bitch. James motherfucking Barnes joined the lab rats of Banner's sex research.

[kenacoki]

Playing With Fire

//Pairing// Eddie Diaz x Fem!Reader

//Summary// You and Eddie have never gotten along ever since you’ve joined the 118. When the two of you are forced to quarantine together after a sudden exposure to a possible virus while on a call, there’s only so much that can happen.

//Request// Smut prompts #1, #7, #12, #14, and #15

//Word Count// 6.86k

//Warnings// MDNI (18+), smut (p in v), dirty talk

//Dividers// sister-lucifer

//a/n// This is my first time ever writing smut! If you guys have any constructive criticism feel free to let me know :)

It was another early start at work. The fire station was rather peaceful during these hours; a few members were just waking up after late-night calls, and a few others were just finishing up breakfast.

As you arrive and head up to the loft, you can just barely make out the figure of a person hunched over in a chair at the kitchen island.

Eddie Goddamn Diaz.

He was half-sleep in his seat, slumped over on one arm and sipping on a quickly cooling cup of coffee, his eyelids half closed.

He didn't notice your approaching steps into the room for a few seconds, only stirring into consciousness upon hearing you get closer. Quickly jerking into a more awake state, he turns his head to look at you as you enter the kitchen.

"Oh, it's you." He mumbles.

His voice was low and rough from the early hour as he spoke, his eyes still partly closed and the look on his groggy face suggested he hadn't even registered his words properly. He yawned and took another small sip from his cup, before looking at you again.

"What time is it?" He asked in his half-conscious state.

“Time for you to go back to sleep,” you grumble, turning on the coffee maker and popping in a (f/f) coffee pod. “God knows you need all the beauty sleep you can get.”

Eddie lets out a low scoff as he hears your words, slowly turning his head to look at you. His brown eyes were half-open still, but he had mustered enough energy to form an annoyed expression.

"Haha, very funny." He responded dryly. "Maybe you should worry about your own face before commenting on mine."

Eddie takes another weary sip from his coffee, now eyeing you from across the kitchen as you get your drink ready.

It's been like this for several months now between you two, constantly butting heads and getting into small arguments at every opportunity. Everyone at the station has gotten fed up with the constant fighting by this point, especially considering both of you have to work so closely on calls.

But despite this, there was a part of both of you that actually enjoyed the arguing.

Each time you argued, something in the back of both of your minds enjoyed it. The tension between you both heightened with each heated exchange, and the adrenaline it brought felt almost...

Thrilling.

He knew exactly how to push your buttons, and you knew how to get under his skin just as easily. It was almost a game to you both; to see who would snap first and give in.

But each time, nothing ever happened. The tension would rise and rise until someone was there to break up the argument, and both of you would be left to stew in the tension until the next time it happened.

It was like an endless cycle. You both knew the other's weaknesses and kept throwing little jabs at each other any chance you got.

“You know, sometimes I wonder if you were born an asshole, or if someone just hurt you so bad that—”

“Oh, here we go.” Eddie quickly cuts you off with a scoff, not letting you finish your jab at him. “I was wondering how long it would take you to start with your insults.”

He shifts in his seat, his muscles tensing just slightly in annoyance, "Can't you keep your mouth shut for more than two seconds?" Eddie retorted, an edge to his voice.

"And miss the chance to piss you off? Never." You spit with a smirk, leaning against the counter as you watch Eddie's tired expression.

Eddie lets out an exasperated sigh, running a hand over his face tiredly as he grumbles softly.

"Te juro que no eras tan atractiva—” He grumbles, the irritation building up inside him.

“I literally have no idea what you’re saying, so that literally affects me none.”

Eddie’s eye twitches as he hears your response, his annoyance shifting into anger.

His grip on his coffee cup tightens, clearly trying with all his might not to lose his temper. It’s probably a miracle that he hasn’t thrown it at you yet.

The tension in the room is almost tangible, both of you on the verge of another argument, even despite Eddie’s tired state.

“I swear to god,” He starts, his voice growing harsher. “If you don’t shut your mouth, I’m gonna—“

“Is it even possible for you both to not argue for once in your lives?”

You both jump in surprise to find Chimney standing at the top of the loft stairs, a mix of amusement and irritation on his face.

He crosses his arms and leans against the railing of the loft, eyes flickering between the both of you.

“It’s not even 8 a.m. and yet, and you two are already arguing like an old married couple.” He jokingly teases, a knowing smirk on his face.

Eddie’s eyes harden at Chimney’s words, while you can’t help but scoff at the comment.

“We are not a married couple.” Eddie retorts immediately, while you respond simultaneously.

“Yeah, to be married couples actually have to like each other.”

Chimney just chuckles and shakes his head, “Could’ve fooled me.” He pushes himself off the railing and walks further on into the kitchen, moving towards the coffee machine.

You stand there stewing about chimneys comment when the alarm on the side of the station wall starts ringing.

“Medic Unit needed…unconscious woman at Jameson Park.”

Chimney grins as he pours his coffee, “You two are handing the ambulance today—Bobby’s orders, not mine.”

You and Eddie share a look, “Looks like our shift just got started.” He mutters under his breath.

His tired demeanor quickly fades as he starts to move out of his seat, setting his now empty coffee cup on the counter.

The two of you quickly make your way down the loft stairs to the main floor of the station, Chimney watching the both of you leave.

“Please don’t kill each other before anyone’s been rescued!” He calls out to you both jokingly.

Eddie just rolls his eyes, not even bothering to respond to Chimney. The two of you climb into the ambulance, you hop in the passenger seat as Eddie starts it up. Swiftly pulling out of the station and driving towards the park.

The drive to Jameson Park is done mostly in silence, with both of you far too focused on getting to the scene to start getting snappy with each other. You can feel the remaining tension from your earlier argument bubbling beneath the surface, threatening to boil over at any moment though.

After a few minutes, the familiar area of the park comes into view. Eddie turns off the road and down into the park, the ambulance soon pulling up to the scene.

You immediately jump out, rushing over while Eddie quickly trails behind.

A small crowd of people gathered around a young woman sitting on a nearby park bench. She is sitting slumped over, looking dazed and confused.

Both of you quickly set to work, Eddie kneeling down in front of the woman to check her over while you start asking questions.

“What happened?” You ask the group, trying to get a general idea of the situation.

“We were just walking through the park, and suddenly she collapsed.” A young man in the crowd explains, his voice filled with worry. “She’s been kinda sick for the last few days, like uh a fever and some cramps but that—oh, and red eyes!”

You nod before glancing down at the woman.

“Are her pupils responsive?” You question, squatting down beside Eddie.

He glances at you from the corner of his eye as he checks the woman over

“They’re sluggish,” Eddie mutters, turning his gaze back to the young woman. “Ma’am, can you hear me? Do you know where you are?”

The woman raises her head slowly, her gaze unfocused and confused. She looks around her surroundings, her body swaying slightly as she tries to focus her vision.

Finally, her eyes fall on Eddie, and she looks up at him, her voice rough and raspy as she speaks.

“Huh…w-where I am?”

Eddie’s brow creases together in concern as he continues to check her over. It’s clear that whatever’s wrong with her is serious, and you guys need to act quickly.

“You’re in Jameson Park. You’ve just had a fall.” He responds, his voice firm. “We’re here to help you, alright? What’s her vitals?”

“Fever’s getting pretty bad…” You mutter, checking her temperature. “Blood pressure is through the roof, pupils are fully dilated and she’s struggling to focus. We need to get her to a hospital ASAP.”

Eddie nods in agreement, his expression tense, “Alright, ma’am, we’re going to have to take you to the hospital, all right? We need to get you checked out and taken care of.”

The woman nods slightly in response, her body still swaying as she struggles to stay conscious.

“I, uh, don’t feel very good-” She manages to mutter, her voice slurred and weak.

You two get her safely secured on the stretcher and roll her towards the back of the ambulance.

“I’ll sit back here with her.” You swing the door open, climbing into the back as you carefully pull the stretcher inside.

“Alright, I’ll drive.” He responds with a nod, heading up to the driver’s seat and starting up the engine.

You sit back with the woman on the stretcher, both of you strapped in securely as you watch Eddie begin to drive.

Eddie’s driving is even more focused than usual, weaving through traffic smoothly as he heads to the nearest hospital.

The woman’s breathing starts to become more labored, as both her fever and her heart rate continue to rise. You look up as the IV drips, gently placing the oxygen mask over her face.

“We’re almost there, okay? The doctors will be ready to help you.”

Eddie glances into the rearview mirror, noticing her struggling. He bites his lip, his hands gripping the wheel a little tighter as he focuses on the road.

"How's she holding up back there?"

“How about you just work on getting us to the hospital.” You snip at him, more than a little stressed from the current situation.

Eddie glares back at you through the mirror, an annoyed look on his face at your tone.

"I was just asking a question." He responds, his voice strained. "No need to be bitchy about it."

“I’m not being bitchy.” You retort, gesturing towards the woman on the stretcher. “I’m just a little bit focused on our patient if you can’t tell.”

You huff and return your attention to the woman, the air in the ambulance growing increasingly tense.

Thankfully, you see the hospital come into view through the front windshield. A sigh of relief escapes you.

Eddie pulls up outside the entrance of the Hospital’s ER, quickly getting out of the driver’s seat and pulling the ambulance bay door open.

Together, both of you quickly rush the woman into the emergency room, a team of doctors and nurses instantly descending on her to take her in.

You and Eddie stand a few feet back from the action, watching as the hospital medical team takes the woman in and starts to treat her.

Both of you let out a collective sigh.

Eddie glances at you, his eyes narrowing slightly as he struggles to hold back his comment. "So... you gonna apologize for earlier, or what?"

Surely he isn’t serious right now.

“And why should I?” you retort instantly, turning your gaze to look back at him. “Last time I checked, I didn’t have anything to apologize for.“

A mocking smile on your lips, your hand comes down on his shoulder as you start outside, “Don’t take everything to heart.”

Eddie scoffs, shrugging off your hand, his face hardening. “Are you kidding me right now?”

He steps closer to you, his voice low and pointed. “Why can’t you be professional for once and just answer a goddamn question without being a smartass?”

“Oh, so it's my fault you can't handle a simple answer?” You fire back, taking a step closer to him, your volume increasing. “And why should I be the one who has to be professional when you're always the one making snide jabs”

Eddie lets out a scoff, his eyes narrowing. “Yeah, because you’re always such a goddamn peach to work with.”

He moves even closer, practically towering over you now, irritation clear in his tone. “You’re the one who starts—”

“I am not arguing with you in the emergency bay of a hospital! Just, let’s go.” You storm past him, bumping his shoulder with yours as you climb into the passenger seat.

Eddie stands there for a moment, frustration and agitation written all over his face. He clenches his fists tightly, trying and failing to reign in his anger. After a moment, he lets out a huff and angrily stomps over to the driver's seat.

He gets in with a thud, slamming the door behind him.

The drive back to the station is done in complete silence, with both of you refusing to talk. The tension between you and Eddie is at an all-time high.

Finally, the station comes into view, and Eddie pulls the ambulance back into its space a bit more swiftly than necessary.

Both of you climb out of the ambulance, still refusing to even look at each other. The air between you is electric, full of anger and tension.

As you make your way towards the kitchen loft, you see Buck, Chimney, Hen, and Bobby standing around the island, watching you both with worried looks on their faces.

Bobby steps forward, his face etched with concern, "You two, can I speak with you for a moment?"

His tone is firm, making it clear that this isn’t a request. Both you and Eddie just glare, but neither of you argue, knowing he won’t take no for an answer.

He motions for you both to follow him, leading you to a secluded area away from the others. Both of you silently follow, clearly not wanting to talk but knowing you have no choice.

Bobby turns to face both of you, and his expression is serious, "Listen, I just got a call from the hospital.”

You and Eddie exchange a glance at that. Both of you shift in place, the tension still palpable, but now mixed with a bit of worry as well.

Bobby looks between the two of you, “The woman you brought in…it’s not looking good,” He continues, his voice serious. “They’re doing everything they can, but her condition is critical.”

Both you and Eddie go still at that, the tension in the air being replaced with a sense of worry and regret. Despite your argument, both of you clearly cared about the outcome. Both of you stay silent for a moment, struggling to find the right words.

“The CDC thinks she may have a new strain of Bird Flu.”

Both your eyes widen at that, the gravity of the situation suddenly hitting you full force.

Bird flu?

That’s…that’s a serious, possibly deadly virus.

You glance at Eddie, noticing his expression shift from anger to worry. Both of you stand there in silence, processing the information.

Bobby, noticing your reactions, continues, "The CDC requested blood work to be done on her to bring safe. Until we know for sure, everyone that came into contact with her during that call is going to quarantine as a precaution."

Both you and Eddie nod in understanding, the severity of the situation sinking in even more. If the woman does have Bird Flu, that means you and Eddie were directly exposed.

The tension in the air has shifted, now replaced with an uneasy feeling. Bobby looks between you two, "Until we know for sure what's going on, I need you two to be diligent. Watch for symptoms." He instructs, his voice serious.

“Now, that also means you two will be quarantined here—to minimize the risk of spreading.”

Your heart sinks at that. Being quarantined means being cooped up and separated from the world, unable to do anything except sit and wait. But to make matters worse, now you’re gonna be stuck with Eddie for god knows how long.

You glance at Eddie briefly, noticing the slight look of unease on his face as he registers the same thing.

Bobby continues, noticing your reactions, " I know this isn’t ideal, but this is for everyone's safety."

He pauses for a moment, looking around to make sure the coast is clear, "Listen, I know you two have uh, a complicated relationship. But I need you to set that aside right now." He lowers his voice even further as he says this.

Both you and Eddie shift uncomfortably, knowing exactly what he's referring to. Your argument from earlier is fresh in both of your minds, making the prospect of being stuck together even less appealing.

You nod in understanding, “How long are we going to be quarantined?” You ask, your voice laced with slight irritation.

Bobby winces slightly, knowing that the answer isn't going to be what you want to hear.

"I can't say for sure just yet," he replies, his tone sympathetic. "but hopefully just until the hospital gets her blood results back. I'll keep you both updated as much as I can."

You glance over at Eddie again, only to find his gaze already on you, the same resigned look on his face. He’s just as unhappy about this situation as you are.

“Alright then, come with me. There’s a room set up for you.” Bobby turns and begins to lead the way to the room that’s been prepared for your quarantine.

You and Eddie slowly follow behind Bobby, walking in complete, awkward silence.

As you two arrive at the room, you both give it once over. It’s not much, but it’ll have to do for the time being—

Wait.

Why the hell is there only one bed?!

Both your and Eddie’s eyes widen as you see the single bed in the room, leaving no other sleeping option.

Bobby winces at your reaction, his hand coming down on your shoulder. “Trust me, kid, I tried to find another solution, but this is all I could manage on short notice.”

You exchange a glance with Eddie, a mix of annoyance and trepidation on both of your faces.

You’ve gotta be joking.

“I know it's not ideal," Bobby says, his voice sympathetic. “But you'll have to make do."

He glances between the two of you, his expression turning a bit more stern. “I don’t want any fighting or arguing in there, you hear me? You two need to get along and work together until this quarantine is up.”

You and Eddie glare at each other for a moment before silently nodding, knowing that you don’t have a choice in the matter.

Bobby gives a satisfied nod, “Alright then, I'll let you two get settled in. I'll come check on you both soon.”

With that, he steps out of the room, closing the door behind him.

The silence is deafening as both of you stand awkwardly on either side of the bed. The only sound is the hum of the air conditioning unit.

Eventually, you speak up, breaking the silence. “Hopefully we’re outta here before either of us get tired.”

Eddie lets out a huff, clearly still irritated about the situation, "Yeah, no kidding." He stands there for a moment, hands on his hips, looking around the small room.

You take a few steps of your own, trying to find something, anything to occupy yourself. You walk over to the window and pull out your phone. While leaning against the cold wall, you aimlessly scroll through your phone to try to pass the time.

Meanwhile, Eddie takes a seat on the edge of the bed, his face still showing his agitation. He’s clearly not happy about the situation either, but he’s restraining himself from saying anything. He rubs his hands over his tired face.

You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, noticing the tension in his shoulders. It's clear that he's fighting to keep his emotions in check, just like you are.

The silence between you both continues to stretch out, the only sound being the soft tapping of your fingers on the screen of your phone.

Tap…tap tap…tap

Tap tap…tap…tap tap

Tap—

“Oh my God! Do you even realize how loud you’re being?” Eddie spits out

You look up at his sudden outburst, taken slightly aback by his irritation. You hadn’t realized you were being loud with your phone.

“Wow…excuse me, for trying to amuse myself.” You retort back, your annoyance rising. “It’s not my fault there’s nothing to do in this damn room.”

Eddie rolls his eyes at your response, his agitation growing further. “It’s like you’re purposefully trying to piss me off.”

You scoff at that, feeling your own irritation spike. “Did you just hear yourself? You actually sound insane.”

Eddie lets out a bitter laugh, the sound laced with contempt. “I don’t know. You seem to find pleasure in annoying me at every turn.”

“You are one of the most sensitive—” You volley back, your own irritation flaring up.

“Sensitive? That’s rich coming from you.” Eddie shoots back, his voice rising in volume. “You’re the one who’s always losing their temper and lashing out like a child.”

You feel your anger, at least you think it’s anger—to be fair, you can’t really focus on much when Eddie’s looking at you like this—reach a breaking point.

“Speaking of child—don’t you have one you need to call to inform of your condition—or did that just slip your mind.”

Eddie goes still at the mention of Christopher, his expression turning instantly cold. His jaw clenches tightly, a flicker of something unreadable flashing in his eyes.

He stands up in one swift motion, towering over you. “You really want to bring him into this?” His voice is sharp, laced with warning.

“I’m just saying, you have more important priorities than arguing with me.” You click your phone off and set it by the window, giving Eddie your undivided attention.

Eddie’s gaze hardens even further, his eyes like a storm. “I don’t need you telling me how to handle my own goddamn life.”

He takes a step closer to you, his body tense with anger. “You have no idea what it’s like to be me, so don’t you lecture me about talking to my son.”

You don’t even get the chance to speak before he continues, “—And, wha-what gives you the right to tell me what I should do? You’re not my boss, and you’re damn sure not my keeper.” Eddie’s voice is seething now, his anger palpable in the air.

You glare up at him, “I’m not trying to be your damn keeper, Eddie. I’m just pointing out that you need to handle your own life before coming at mine!”

You jab a finger into his chest, pushing him back slightly. “And if you don’t want me ‘poking my nose’ into your life, maybe you should stop being so damn infuriating all the time!”

Eddie’s expression turns cold, his gaze fixated on you. He looks...

Dangerous.

“You want me to stop being infuriating?” He steps closer again, forcing you up against the wall. He cages you with his arms, his face just a few inches from yours.

Your heart is racing now, the intensity behind his brown eyes and the close proximity sending you into a frenzy. You’re hyperaware of everything:

The heat of his body…

The strain of his muscles…

The scent of his cologne…

He leans in further, his voice a mere whisper now. “Maybe you should find another way to shut me up.”

You can’t hold back anymore, the tension too high, “I’ll kiss you if that's what it takes to shut you up.”

Eddie goes completely still, the shock of your words washing over him. He stares at you intently, his eyes darkened and searching.

"Do it then." He challenges, his voice low, a mix of warning and need behind his words.

Your heart is racing even faster now, the challenge in his tone sends a thrill through you. You know this is a bad idea, horrible really, it’ll only lead to more trouble, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

You don't wait for him to second guess himself. You surge forward, your own need and desire taking over. You grab him by the collar of his shirt and pull his face down to you. Your lips crash against his in a hungry, urgent kiss.

Eddie gasps in surprise at your sudden attack, but he quickly recovers and returns the kiss with equal fervor. His hands grip your hips, pulling you closer to him, pressing you against the wall.

His mouth moves against yours with a mix of aggression and passion, his tongue slipping between yours to deepen the kiss.

The intensity between you both is like fire, burning up everything in its path. There's no more anger, no more animosity...just pure, unbridled desire.

Eddie's hands roam over your curves, seeking out every inch of skin he can find. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer, tangling your fingers in his hair.

The kiss turns more frantic, more desperate. Your teeth nip at his bottom lip, and he groans in response, the sound sending heat straight to your core.

His hips press against yours, pinning you fully to the wall. His hands slide under your shirt, fingers tracing your skin.

You shiver at the feel of his calloused fingers against your bare skin. You gasp as his mouth leaves yours to trail down your neck instead, leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses down to your collarbone.

He sucks softly on your pulse point, his teeth gently nipping at the sensitive skin. Your head falls back against the wall, a moan falls from your lips.

His hands continue to roam over your body, exploring every curve and dip. He seems determined to drive you completely crazy, and it's working.

His mouth moves back up your neck to your ear, his breath hot on your skin. “You wanted to shut me up,” he whispers, his voice rough with desire. He nips at your earlobe, causing a wave of pleasure to shoot straight through you.

You whimper in response, your body thrumming with need and desire. “Yo-You’re an a-ass.” You manage to gasp out, desperately trying to maintain some semblance of control.

But it’s a losing battle, you both know it.

“You’ve got quite the mouth on you, ya know? Someone should teach you what to do with it.” Eddie spits out, his fingers tugging at the hem of your shirt.

Your heart races at his words, the implication behind them clear. But your own stubbornness flares up, refusing to give him the upper hand.

You stare up at him, your gaze just as intense as his. “Oh yeah?” You retort, trying to sound defiant. “I’d like to see you try.”

Eddie's eyes darken even further, the challenge in your voice spurring him on.

He grabs the edge of your shirt and yanks it up, pulling it over your head in one quick motion. Your (f/c) laced bra sticks out like a sore thumb to him against your flushed complexion. His eyes roam over your newly exposed skin, appreciation clear in his gaze.

“I’m going to make you eat those words.” Eddie growls, his hands roaming over your exposed skin once again. His touch is everywhere—hot and needy.

He dips his head back down to your neck, his mouth working at your sensitive flesh. He sucks and nips at your skin, leaving behind a trail of marks that will no doubt be visible later.

You gasp and moan under his ministrations, your body responding to his touch with a ferocity that surprises even you. You arch your back, pushing yourself closer to him, wanting-needing more of his touch.

His mouth moves down to your chest, his lips and tongue trailing over your collarbone

He pushes your bra straps off your shoulders, his mouth following the movement of the fabric. His hands cup your breasts, his thumbs brush over your sensitive nipples through the thin fabric.

You let out another gasp, your hands gripping his shoulders tightly as your body trembles under his touch. “E-Eddie,” you gasp

“What happened to that attitude of yours?” Eddie teases in your ear, his voice low and rough. “Where’s that sharp tongue now?”

“Bite me.” You snip at him

“I mean, if you’re offering.”

True to his words, he sinks his teeth into the fleshy skin of your left breast. The sensation shoots right to your core as you gasp out in response. He soothes the bite with his tongue, before moving over and repeating the same action on the other.

His hands continue their exploration of your body, fingers trailing over your sides and hips before toying with the button on your pants.

Your breathing is coming in ragged gasps now, your body on fire under his touch. Every brush of his lips, every bite of his teeth, stoking the flames higher and higher.

He finally undoes the button and pulls your pants down, leaving you in just your underwear. His eyes roam hungrily over your exposed body. “God, you’re beautiful.” He mutters, his voice thick with honesty.

He presses his body against yours, the heat of his skin palpable against your own. You can feel his arousal pressing against you, the evidence of his own desire making your own need even more intense.

“I’m going to make you scream.” He promises, his voice a low, dangerous growl against your ear.

You can’t help but shiver at his words, your mind unable to form a coherent response. Your body is completely at his mercy now, every nerve ending on fire.

He captures your lips in another fierce, desperate kiss. His tongue slides between your lips, tasting and exploring.

He pushes one of his thighs between your legs, applying pressure against your heat. The friction makes you gasp into his mouth, your hips rolling against him involuntarily.

His hands grip your thighs, holding you tight as he continues to kiss you, his mouth moving over your face and neck.

Eddie spins you away from the wall and shoves you down onto the bed, his body following close behind. He towers over you, his eyes dark and intense as he looks down at you.

He reaches back and pulls off his own shirt and pants, revealing the toned muscles and tan skin underneath. He lowers himself down on top of you, his weight pressing you down into the mattress.

You’re completely engulfed in him now. Surrounded by his warmth, his scent, his presence.

His hands roam over your body, his touch is rougher now, less restrained. He grabs your wrists, pinning them to the mattress above your head. His eyes are still dark, his expression filled with complete lust.

“I’m not done with you yet,” he mutters, voice low and dangerous. “Not by a long shot.”

He nips and bites his way down your neck, his tongue tracing the marks he left there. His hands move back down to your hips, his thumbs hooking into the waistband of your underwear.

Eddie looks up at you. “Lift your hips.” He orders, his voice making you shiver.

You obey, lifting your hips as he instructs. He hooks his fingers into your underwear and slowly—achingly slow—pulls them down your legs.

He leans back down, his mouth trailing along your inner thighs. His hands grip your thighs, spreading them apart.

He positions himself between your legs, his eyes locked on yours. “You’re mine,” he growls, his voice rough and possessive as it fans against your soaked center. “All mine.”

Eddie…Eddie dives in like a man who’s been starving.

He attacks you with his mouth, his tongue and lips claiming you with fervor. You cry out, arching your back as the sensation of his mouth causes your eyes to momentarily roll back.

His hands keep your thighs held firmly in place, his grip tight. “Oh god,” you gasp, your hands clenching onto the bed sheets. “Eddie, please! Ah, I can’t—”

“You can,” he mutters against your sensitive flesh. “You will.”

you can’t help but moan deliriously out as his teeth gently nip at your sensitive bud. Your body jerks at the sensation, your hips straining against his grip. “Ed—please. I need—” your voice trembles as you gasp out.

He pushes himself up, his body hovering over yours once again. “Tell me.” He orders. “Tell me what you need.”

You’re breathless, your mind reeling from his assault. You can hardly form a coherent thought, “Y-you,” you gasp out, looking up at him. “I need you. Now, please…please, Eddie…I can’t take it anymore.”

His expression becomes even darker, his eyes almost black with desire. “That’s all I needed to hear,” he growls out.

He moves quickly, pulling off his underwear as he leaves himself exposed to you. It’s not fair really—how it looks like Eddie was carved by Michelangelo himself. You feel your heart flutter in your chest at the sight of him.

He positions himself at your entrance, his eyes locked with yours. “Look at me.” He says, his voice a low command.

You look up at him, your eyes meeting his. His eyes are full of need, of desire, of a primal hunger that makes your body shiver. Not to mention his face is covered with your juices—that’s really, really hot.

“I’ve wanted you for so long. You’ve got no idea.” He mutters, his voice rough with desire. “You drive me crazy, you’re all I can think about. Even when I don’t want to.”

“Oh, fuck me.” You gasp out at Eddie’s admission

You hear him softly chuckle, his light stubble rubbing against your skin, “That’s the plan.”

He looks at you for a moment longer, his eyes dark and intense, before finally lowering his mouth to yours in a hungry kiss.

You respond immediately, your hands clutching at his shoulders as you kiss him back with all the fire and need coursing through your body.

You can feel him press against you, his body strained and tense. He breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against yours.

His breathing is ragged as he looks down at you, “Promise me something.” He mutters, his eyes suddenly serious.

“Anything,” you breathe out, your body thrumming with need. “Just tell me.”

"Promise me you're mine," he growls out, his voice low and rough. "I want you to be mine, and no one else's." He pushes himself against you, his body barely restraining its own need.

You look up at him, your eyes meeting his. You can see the raw emotion in his gaze—

“I’m yours,” you breathe out, your voice shaky. “I’m all yours, Eddie. No one else’s.”

His eyes flash with something that looks a lot like satisfaction at your words. “Good,” he mutters, his voice rough. “Because I didn’t plan on sharing.”

He wastes no time thrusting in, your eyes rolling back in pleasure as your walls flutter around him.

You gasp out at the sudden intrusion, your body arching up against his. “Oh god, Eddie,” you gasp, the pleasure shooting through your body. “Little warning next time.”

Next time…

He lets out a low groan, his own body taut with need. He buries his face in your neck, “You feel so good,” he mutters, his voice low. “Like you were made for me.”

His thrusts are deep and slow, but the need behind them is undeniable. He’s claiming you, marking you as his own, and it only intensifies the pleasure coursing through you.

“You’re mine,” he growls out, his grip on your hips tightening. “You hear me?”

“Yes,” you gasp out, your body quivering beneath him. “Yours, only yours, Eddie! Oh god, don’t stop!”

He doesn’t respond, his focus completely on you and the pleasure coursing through your body. He leans down and captures your mouth in another rough kiss.

His thrusts pick up speed, becoming rougher, harsher.

You moan into his mouth, your hands roaming over his body, before seeking refuge in his soft dark hair. Your body is on fire, your insides clenching and tightening with every movement he makes.

“Eddie! Ah, oh god…I’m gonna—”

���Not yet,” he mutters against your lips. “Not until I say.”

He changes the angle of his thrusts, hitting you in just the right spot. Your body jerks in response, a guttural moan escaping your lips as your hips roll against him. “Oh god, Eddie! Please, I can’t hold on much longer!” You gasp out, your body quivering with need. He looks down at you, his pupils dark and blown.

“A little longer,” he mutters, his voice strained. “I’m close, so close…Me vuelves loco, pero Dios, cuánto te amo.”

You have no relative idea what he said, but ho-ly shit…You think you’d pay money to hear Eddie speak like that again.

“Eddie!” you cry out, your body arching up against his.

He looks down at you, his eyes dark and intense. “Let go,” he growls. “Let go, and say my name.”

You come apart, your body tightening and clenching around him as the pleasure engulfs you. “Eddie, Yes, yes, oh god, Eddie!” You moan out, your words becoming unintelligible as waves of pleasure crash over you. Your body trembles underneath him, your vision going white.

Eddie’s close behind, his body tensing as he follows you over the edge, quickly pulling out and finishing your stomach.

“Ugh, fuck (y/n)…tan perfecto...todo mío.”

For a moment, it’s almost as if you two become one; your bodies, breaths, and heartbeat falling into an almost perfect synchronicity.

“God. you’re so good for me, look at how much you came.”

You lay underneath him, your body trembling and spent. He leans down and presses his forehead against yours, his body still trembling from his own release.

A few moments pass before he speaks, his voice rough. “You okay?” he asks, his eyes searching your face.

“Yeah,” you breathe out, your body still quaking from your climax. “That…that was…”

You can’t continue, your brain is too fried to form a coherent sentence.

He lets out a low chuckle at your response, pushing himself up to look down at you. “I take it I did alright?” he asks, a hint of cocky confidence in his voice.

“Shut up,” you playfully grumble, smacking his chest lightly.

He laughs at your response, his cocky smirk still firmly in place. “Oh come on, give me a little credit. You didn’t seem too disappointed.”

You roll your eyes at his arrogance, but you can’t help the small smile that forms on your lips. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Eddie’s phone light up.

He follows your gaze, his expression becoming a little more serious. “Hold on,” he murmurs, rolling and reaching over to grab his phone off the bedside table.

He looks down at it, his expression becoming even more serious as he reads whatever message he received.

“It’s Bobby.”

“Everything okay?” you ask, sitting up in the bed. The mention of Bobby’s name instantly puts you on alert.

“Yeah, it’s just—” he stops for a moment, his expression unreadable. “The girl we took to the hospital, her blood test came back negative. We’re uh, we’re good to go.”

“Oh…well that’s good, right?” You nervously start, rubbing your hands together anxiously. “We don’t have to stay in here anymore—”

“I just,” he stops abruptly, his brow furrowing in thought. “I don’t wanna go back to how we were.”

Your breath hitches at his words. “What do you mean?” you ask, your voice quiet.

“I mean,” he looks up at you, his eyes dark and serious. “I want this. I want you. I don’t wanna just go back to pretending like nothing happened.”

Your heart leaps in your chest at his words, your (e/c) eyes widening in surprise. “You-you do?”

“I do,” he says, voice firm. “I’m all in. I want you. I don’t wanna keep running or pretending, or whatever the hell we’ve been doing. I wanna be with you, really be with you.”

Your heart clenches at his words, tears pricking at your eyes. “I…me too,” you murmur, your voice thick with emotion. “I want that too. I want to be with you, in every way possible.”

Eddie lets out a sigh, the tension in his body easing slightly at your words. “Good,” he mutters, moving closer to you in the bed. He pulls you into his arms, his hands running soothingly up and down your back.

You lean into his touch, your body relaxing at the feel of his skin against yours. You rest your head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

After a moment of comfortable silence, you speak up. “Hey, Eddie?” you murmur, your voice soft.

“Yeah?” he responds, his hand still running soothingly over your back

“You don’t…you don’t think the others heard us…right?”

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

from the flames | b. blake

masterlist

summary: season three — to signify the newly recognised alliance between the sky people and the grounders, a celebration is held within polis’ market square. a bonfire, alcohol, and the bawdy pulsation of drums is a sure-fire recipe for a stimulating night. add a watchful bellamy blake and his dancing muse into the mix, and, well… i’ll show you the consequences of such a potent combination.

pairing: bellamy blake x fem!reader

warnings: alcohol consumption/intoxication, sensual dancing, jealousy, sexual desecration??, mild possessiveness, arguments, bellamy speaking in trigedaslang (giggling and kicking my feet), dialogue-heavy, manhandling, mild angst, smut, unprotected p in v (do not), reader is short because i’m short, deal with it <3

notes: i haven’t recently been watching the 100 so the timeline and characterisation may be a little off. also, ik this took me a long ass time, but i’m gonna try and make sure the next two parts come out a little quicker <3 i love y’all!

word count: 2.5k

“People of Kongeda and Skaikru, tonight we gather as one, united by a common purpose and a shared future of alliance. Before us, this bonfire symbolises more than just a flame; it is a beacon of hope, an opportunity to cleanse old grudges and pain that has divided us for far too long.

“Let this fire signify a new beginning and serve as a reminder that unity is not our weakness, but our strength. Let it be known that from this day, we join not as enemies, but as allies, and anyone set upon spilling the blood of our allies is spilling the blood of us all. Let it be known: Jus drein, jus daun!”

“Jus drein, jus daun!”

As much as Lexa’s words intended to inspire harmony, the crowd massed below the second-floor balcony of the dominating tower she resided on reacted in any way but. Fierce declarations of worship were cried out; large fists were pumped in celebration; and misty clouds of brew and saliva were sprayed into the tepid night air.

All was well, for the first time since we landed on Earth.

“Happy Unity Day,” I murmured to myself, taking a sip from the metal cup in my hand. I was standing on the outer edges of the unruly crowd of dark, rugged figures, who were surrounding an unlit wooden mountain and raving as it abruptly burst into vociferous flames.

The monstrous tepee of sticks was raging at the centre of Polis’ trading square, an open area bordered with stalls and operating food vendors that infused the air with a salivating meaty aroma. Glimmers of light chipped away into the familiar starry night above and an orange ambience was cast throughout the square, seeming to blaze beneath the skin of those who orbited the fire.

It was a somewhat perplexing scene: to be together as one people, celebratingratherthan being at war with one another.

A pensive mechanic stepped in beside me, eyeing the mixed crowd of Grounders and Sky People.

Raven folded her arms over her chest. “Don’t you think the fact that the Ark originally had thirteen stations and the coalition now has thirteen clans is kind of…”

“Unsettling?” I finished for her. “Yeah. Probably best not tell these guys the story of how Polaris got blown out of the sky. Don’t want to give them any ideas.”

“Polaris… Polis…” she continued contemplating. “Think there’s anything equally unsettling about that?”

I looked at Raven. She looked back at me.

I sucked in a sharp breath—“I’m not drunk enough for this conversation”—and tipped the harsh contents of my cup down my throat. The liquid was molten in both its ferocity and colour and was infused with some potent earthly spice; it was a blow to the stomach upon consumption.

“Is that such a good idea?” Raven asked, judging me as my head craned back to capture the last few drops of throat-scorching goodness. “I’m all for pouring a glass when the occasion calls for it, but these people have stomachs lined with steel—what do you think yours is made of?”

I grimaced at the taste. “You tell me. You’re the genius.”

The roll of her eyes was deafening. “I’m just saying, they’ve probably spent decades perfecting their drinks to suit them, to match their tolerances. I mean, even that human fountain over there couldn’t handle it.” She nodded towards a cluster of barrels where a titan of a man wearing armoured shoulder pads and breastplates was hunched over, violently emptying his stomach onto the cobbled ground.

I swallowed my own stomach at the sight.

“I just assumed you wanted to spend the night somewhat differently,” she said, a sweet undertone of provocation twisting her words.

My brows furrowed, and I turned to face her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Her lips twitched at the corners—never a good sign.

The thing was, I knew exactly what she meant. Her unspoken words had already been circling my mind for days, weeks, months even, increasingly accumulating with both heat and fervour.

As ironic as it was, I think it’s fitting to compare my situation to that of a star’s formation.

There I was, a delinquent sitting stagnant in a cold nebula of misery in the Sky Box, parted from my family and friends, sent hurtling to Earth to die, only then to have my cold, miserable cloud intruded upon by a fiery presence, a head of tousled brown waves and a pair of rich, dark chocolate eyes.

An awakener. An activator.

This intruder began filling my head with his words, his laughter, his brooding stare. The weight of his presence began to grow; thoughts of him consumed me. From the most surprisingly vulnerable conversations to even the tensest arguments, he had a heat inside me swirling and it was sweltering to unfathomable heights. It showed no signs of stopping.

Raven’s malevolent brown eyes were pointing plainly at something far behind me as if to answer my question. I knew what I would see even before turning around to look, but moronic as I was, I looked anyway.

Chin hovering over my shoulder, my eyes wandered through the scattered crowd of Grounders and Sky People alike that loitered the bonfire’s outskirts. There, sandwiched between Lincoln and an unoccupied trading stall, was a face that not only had my stomach contents lodged in my throat, but my heart as well.

Bellamy.

He was standing with his arms crossed, each one concealed beneath his distressed guard jacket. And although his stance screamed ‘Don’t talk to me,’ his face said otherwise. He and Lincoln were engaged in some high-spirited conversation, much unlike themselves (although the supply of drinks may have been to blame). Bellamy was speaking through one of his overconfident half-grins while alternating between gesturing to-and-fro with a single hand and tucking it back under his opposing bicep.

My chest was burning; the bonfire somehow must’ve seeped into my heart.

It should be stated here that when a nebula accumulates enough particles, it turns into a protostar—not a main sequence star like our sun, but something that holds the potential to be. At this point, the formation is at its most precarious. If a sufficient amount of mass is not acquired, the protostar will fail to stabilise and will cool into a brown dwarf, forever existing in the cold, lonely expansion of space as a reminder of what it could have been.

Bellamy’s head gravitated in my direction. Our eyes met through the asteroid belt of rugged figures between us. My breath caught in my throat, and I turned back around.

A reminder of what it could have been.

Sometimes I worry my insufficiency has damned me already.

“Oh, my god.” I squeezed my eyes shut. “Oh my god, Raven, why would you put me through that?”

“In the hopes that you’ll finally grow a pair and do something about it,” she replied, taking a sip of her drink to conceal her smirk.

“About what?” Now I was just being evasive.

She let out a frustrated huff and folded her arms over one another. Her countenance was a reflection of impatience: the raised eyebrows, the slight downward tilt of her head, the pursed lips. I almost laughed at her theatricality; then again, I almost cried because I didn’t want the reason behind it to be true.

I wanted Bellamy Blake.

The confession was boiling inside me; it was burning the tip of my tongue, and I knew I had to let it out to cool. And if the words were never spoken to him, then they at least had to be expressed to someone else, even if I never admitted them in the exactness I felt, for the exact words would be so heinous, so—hedonistic, that if anyone were to hear them, I’d be thrown into lock-up for the rest of my days.

“Fine, I guess I’m… attracted to Bellamy,” I spoke slowly, cringing at my own words. Raven’s face immediately lit up like an overzealous Christmas tree, her smugly curved lips parting to no doubt release an incongruous stew of condemnation and encouragement, which I stopped before it could even start. “Anattraction that I am not going to act on, Raven; our friendship is rocky enough as it is. I mean,” I scoffed, “have I even told how we first met? I held a pocketknife to his neck our second night on the ground because he threatened to pry off my wristband in my sleep. And he actually tried! You know that tiny scar he has on his cheek? That was from me!”

“Yeah, sometimes I forget how much of a self-righteous dick he was for a while there,” Raven mused. Her face then screwed with confusion. “Wait, how did you two even become friends? Because when I came down, you were at each other’s throats every single day over one thing or another, and then out of nowhere, it was as if the slate had been wiped clean.”

Ah.

The day the slate had been wiped clean.

A thick blurriness blanketed my vision as my mind withdrew from the present. You know when you get run down with some kind of sickness and your mind gets all scrambled and foggy? Like a fever dream? That’s what that day seemed like to me. Too many unimaginable things had happened, too many emotions and losses were felt, and I’d only shared them with one person before.

“You still there?”

My gaze flickered to Raven momentarily. She was staring at me, half with impatience, half with concern. “Just—” I raised my hand slightly in front of me “—give me a second.”

I inhaled. One, two, three. And I exhaled. Three, two, one.

A vulnerable creature of some sort nestled in my brain, softening the tone of my voice as I hesitantly began, “It was the, uh, the day the Exodus Ship crashed. My dad was on it,” I said, my last words barely audible. “Knowing that he was gone was one thing, but watching the ship crash? That messed me up for a good while.”

Raven, taken aback, muttered her apologies. I just shook my head in return. I sucked in a sharp breath, forcing the memory into the cobwebbed corners of my mind, and then continued, “Bellamy had found me in the woods that night. It wasn’t exactly a pretty sight. I think that seeing me in such a vulnerable state forced him to set aside his asshole-ry for a while because he actually managed to… comfort me.”

I remembered the tone of his voice, so shockingly gentle yet hardened in his trademarked sort of way as he reassured me endlessly that I would be okay. I remembered the warmth of his body as I lay crumpled and sobbing in his lap on the forest floor, clinging onto his arm as if it kept me from plummeting into a bottomless pit. I remembered his hands, swiping away the thousands of tears that streaked my face, the hair from my eyes.

I remembered our brief conversation as we walked back to camp: “I won’t tell anyone. I promise,” he had said, to which I whispered, “Thank you,” and after a short pause, he spoke again, “We all need someone sometimes. I know we don’t have the best history together but… I can be that someone if you ever need,” and then, once more, with an unwelcome flutter in my stomach, I whispered, “Thank you.”

A small, bittersweet smile lifted my lips. My voice sounded distant to my ears as I continued speaking. “We still nicked at each other here and there after that—that tension between us has never really disappeared—but there was also this new mutual understanding. And somewhere from mutual understanding came a rough-around-the-edges friendship, and then friendship turned into something else.” I paused to recollect my thoughts. “Well, for me, at least.”

Between the moment I started speaking to the moment I stopped, my gaze had wandered sheepishly to the toes of my boots. I felt so exposed, like the outer layers of my being had been cracked open to reveal a part of my soul to a girl I hadn’t even known existed until two months ago. Suddenly I remembered why I didn’t drink often.

I stood awkwardly, waiting. The weight of my confession and vulnerability were looming above us.

Raven was quiet; she made no witty remark or tease. Her eyes had only softened with understanding, shifting back and forth as my words were mulled over in her brain. And it was only from her foreign silence that I realised what her next question could be: why don’t you just tell him?

I began, “I don’t want to ruin—"

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” she finally interrupted, shaking her head as if to dismiss my unspoken sentiment. “The age-old ‘I don’t want to ruin what we have right now’. But what exactly is that?” Her eyes once again interrogated mine. “Because I’ll make it clear to you right now and say that what you two have is not just friendship. Come on. You and Bellamy?” She shifted her head to catch my drifting gaze. “Anyone with eyes can see something is there, but clearly, neither of you have a pair.”

Talk about tough love.

A harsh outflow of air exited my nose, and I pushed my hair back out of my face. Everything was much more complicated than I thought it was. Was I really as blind as Raven said? I would have already seen what she does if it were true, right? Did Bellamy really feel the same?

Am I drunk?

I glanced behind me once more, catching a glimpse of Bellamy tilting his head back to finish his drink, exposing the sculptured column of his neck. Heat flushed through my cheeks.

Christ. I couldn’t let this one go. There wasn’t a chance.

“What am I supposed to do?” I asked, still watching him.

An uproar of hoots and howls exploded throughout the square as the sound of drums and horns began to play, bringing my attention to the second-floor balcony of the Commander’s Tower where the noise floated down from. Drums pulsed with bawdy rhythm; horns bellowed with lewd backbone; a woman purred tribal vocalisations.

Bodies began swaying in disharmonious synchronisation around the bonfire, in pairs, in groups, individually. What tethered them was the raunchiness of their movements and the subtle carnality of their interactions with one another. I’d never seen anything like it; as I looked over at Raven and saw her similar intrigue, I knew she hadn’t either.

That was my mistake—to even acknowledge her in such a moment, especially after speaking about our previous topic. Her lips began stretching and stretching into a particularly wicked grin, and she turned to me. The devil was burning in her dark eyes.

Her answer to my question: “Give his eyes something to look at.”

part two

[wraithdance]

Damn I'm still getting notifications on this so I guess I'll elaborate on it for funsies lol

Content warning: AFAB!Reader, terrible british-isms, Reader is a firefighter and idk shit about that life lol, very NY/American coded, explicit language. Shorty getting tossed around like a hot n ready in the next part I just love to set the scene a lil lmao

Part one: The Firefighter

Your mother had always told you two things: 1) not to write a check that your ass can’t cash and 2) A hard head made for a soft ass. Unfortunately for you, you never listen. 

You were on the downward slope of a 48 hour shift and feeling every bit of it. Your captain had taken no mercy on the splitting headache you were nursing and designated you to crowd control on the northern sector of the McCallen theater. The heat of the flames enveloping the old building didn’t help with the already stifling heat wave. Sweat slides down your neck in uncomfortable pools that soak the under clothes beneath your turnout gear. 

While in the middle of reassuring an elderly woman whose granddaughter was in the building you’d caught sight of a large form attempting to cross the barrier from the corner of your eye. You’d whipped your head around so fast you’d damn near given yourself whiplash.

“Hey, get back behind the line!”

Your words die in your throat when you come face to face with the fucking grim reaper. He’s broad and dressed in layers of black from head to toe. His eyes, or what you can see of them from behind the eye black, bore into you from beneath his balaclava. 

What the fuck?

There's a moment where your throat closes up and your muscles lock despite your body screaming at you to run the other way. It’s not until he seems to dismiss you and turns like he’s going to continue on his merry way, that you gain back your senses. 

“Hey I said get back behind the line are you crazy?!” You bark, grabbing the sleeve of his jumper.

Who the hell wears a sweatshirt in the middle of June?

“This is an active fire! ” 

He looks at your offending hand and makes a sound you can only describe as a snort.

“Ya’ can bloody see that.”

This motherfu-

“Good job jackass,” You say between grit teeth “I’m glad you can see the fire, funny enough you can also see it from behind. the. damn. LINE!” 

The grim reaper twitches and if it's possible he looks bigger as he turns his full body towards you. 

You’re too hopped on adrenaline to give a shit about his posturing. You’d worked with sweaty macho guys for six years at the station and had been around servicemen your whole life. There wasn’t a pissing contest around that you would ever back down from. So, you puff out your own chest and meet him head on. 

“Sir, I’m not going to ask you again, get behind the barrier.” 

“Or wot.” you think you might actually catch a murder charge.

“You get behind the line like I asked you to, big boy, or I’ll toss your ass over it myself” You hiss. The big fuck just narrows his eyes in consideration. You’re preparing to make good on your threat, when another voice cuts in.

“Riley, What's the problem here?”

Great two of them. 

The second man is not as broad as the weirdo in black, but still just as barrelled chested. He maneuvers around the barrier like it's just a concept and not a physical deterrent. You have to roll your eyes at his boonie hat and the outdated beard. He had the same fashion sense as your grandpa.

He stops beside the reaper's right side and crosses his stocky arms over his chest, his beard twitching as he takes in your stance. There's something in his blue eyes that you might call appreciation, if it didn’t make you feel like you were on a serving platter. 

You really didn't have time for this shit!

“Like I told your friend here, I need you both behind the line, you're getting in the way of my job and I’m tired of repeating myself.” 

It might have been a childish thing to do but you can’t help yourself when you make rude shoo-ing motions with your hands. 

The newcomers' eyes tighten inauspiciously. An imperceptible look passes between the two mountains that you can’t read. It makes you shudder which only stands to piss you off further. 

It’s not the first time you’ve had some hyper masculine fuck question your authority while on a rescue. Hell, it's come to be expected at this point and you’d joined an online support group for firefighters who experienced the same for being non-cis white dudes. 

The issue is whatever energy these monsters disguised as men are emitting, is disorienting. Normally you would have asked for back up after the second time your request was ignored. Yet your radio still sits at your shoulder and your hands are shaking beneath your thick gloves. 

After a beat the man with the boonie hat speaks, identifying himself as the leader of the two. 

“Listen love, we’re SAS, we can help with the rescue if you just point us in a direction.” 

Your eyes are rolling before he even finishes, you knew it. Macho men.

“That’s nice and I’m auditioning for the Wiz! We have everything under control gentlemen but thank you for the offer!” 

Maybe it’s the migraine or the lack of sleep, but you can’t help but to dig the knife in deeper just a little bit. You’re smiling with your teeth and speaking in a baby voice before you can think twice about it.

“Why don’t you big strong men sign up for the next station tour and I’ll give you a nice badge and a sucker!” You clap your hands in mock excitement, before flattening your tone and expression “So that way, when you wanna play firemen, you can do it without jeopardizing the professionals! Fuck you very much, get off of my scene.” 

Looking back it was probably the thing that doomed you, but you’d been too caught up in the moment to see it that way. Your radio had rattled off with the sound of your captain calling you in for an assist.

You hadn’t thought to really sus out the reaction of the men you’d bitched out. Had been all too happy to give up your position dealing with them to a wet behind the ears rookie. 

After getting the fire under control and surviving the end of your shift you’d gone home and face planted on the couch. After chugging down your weight in electrolytes and ramen, you joined the server for the firefighter’s support group.

You’d been soothed by the jokes your online support system cracked when you retold the clusterfuck of a day. Before logging off for the night you get a friend request from some random account with a string of numbers and a skull icon. You snort but look through the profile. Scoffing when you see that it was made in the last hour.

Fucking bot accounts. You’d have to ask the mods to check out their spam filters next time they were on. 

<SR141698 has been Blocked!>

Ugh, you needed a bath.

Preview of next part:

“Open your mouth.”

Your eyes widen and you struggle against the tight grip around your chin. His warm hands only tighten, causing your lips to pucker. A husky laugh sounds from behind your shoulder and you can feel the brush of cotton against your ear.

“C’mon pretty girl, open up, captain just wants to give you a sucker.”

[a-b-riddle]

Out of the Shadows (1)

Dark Simon x Delusional Johnny x Kidnapped Reader

When he first saw you in the city, he nearly missed you. You would have been lost in the crowd if it hadn't been for the absolute look of defeat written on your beautiful face. It was as if any life you had within you had been sucked out.

He was on his way to Captain's when he spotted you. You were walking almost in a daze. Simply putting one foot in front of the other with nowhere to go. He had simply stood at the entrance of the metro station, watching you until you faded from you. Standing there several moments after, almost... enchanted? Bewitched?

All he knew was that he couldn't pull you from his mind. Not that night at Price's dinner with his new wife. Not when he laid next to Simon that same evening.

Or the next.

Or the next.

It wasn't until Simon practically forced Johnny to confess what had put him in such a sodden state that he had told Simon about you. That he couldn't shake you from his head. That he didn't know your name or even the sound of your voice and yet, he couldn't stop thinking about you.

And now you were just gone.

Simon made the suggestion in going back to the city to see if maybe he could spot you again. So he did.

Everyday.

For three months.

It had become an obsession to find you. He had almost given up. Assuming you were a traveler simply passing through. Simon had insisted that it was pointless. If Johnny hadn't found you buy now, searching almost every inch of the city, it would never happen.

But then there you were. Reappearing practically out of thin air. He had been driving through a part of London that was sort of well... the slums to put it mildly.

It was late in the evening. Too late for Johnny to be out and about in these parts and definitely too late for a pretty lass like you to be out so late. But even through the heavy downpour of rain and the slight fogginess of his windows he knew it was you.

You were practically sprinting, as if you were running from something.

Or someone

It wasn't until you went to a building and tried to shake the doors open did Johnny turn sharply on the side of the street to park his car. Whoever was after you, Johnny would be more than happy to handle them. It wasn't until you started banging on the steel security door shouting your name, claiming you were here did Johnny look up.

In off-white letters read West End Women's Shelter.

Johnny's heart sunk into his stomach. Had this been your situation the entire time he had spent looking for you? At a shelter?

Johnny got out of his car. The weather showing him no mercy as it began to soak his sweatshirt. "You alright!?" He had to practically shout over sound of the rain. You turned, jumping at his voice behind you.

"I'm fine!" You lied hoping your assurance would end the conversation and this stranger would just leave you alone. You weren't a stranger to strange men wanting to 'help' you.

"Saw you running and just wanted to make sure you were okay. No one chasin' ye?" You huffed but concealed your fear. Men fed off of it, like prey playing with their dinner.

"Nope!" You replied. "All good!" You crossed your arms over your chest. Too prideful to show you were freezing your ass off and just wanting him to leave so you could start weighing your options.

"You locked out?" He asked the one obvious question you couldn't bullshit. The doors weren't opening and you knew damn good and well they wouldn't until the morning.

No exceptions.

"Fuck," you hiss, low enough in hopes he didn't hear. "Yeah! Just missed curfew!" It's not until he starts making his way toward you, the engine of his car still purring do all of the danger synapses in your brain begin firing away.

"There's a hotel nearby." He said. "It's supposed to freeze over and the rain won't help ye. I could at least cover your room for the night." You looked at him. Where he expected to see relief, even joy, he found uncertainty.

If he wasn't a pervert you would say he's handsome. But even a handsome face and the threat of frostbite would convince you. You're homeless, but you hold on to what little dignity you still have.

You shook your head, taking a step back. "I don't do that."

"It's fine." He assured, pulling out his wallet.

"Stop!" you hissed, looking up to make sure the red light of the camera was off. Of course it had been. It hadn't been fixed since you came here. You turned back to look at his confused expression. "Turning tricks will get me kicked out of here, okay?"

"Tricks?" He asked, confused before piecing it together and shaking his head. "I'm not looking for a night with ye, Bonnie." He explained. "Just don't want you turning to ice." You wish you could believe him. You wish that you could believe that there was still some honest to God goodness left in people and not just those who want something in return whether it be your body or a tax right off. "Besides, looks like yer already out."

He gestures to the doors behind you with a nod of his head, but you don't take your eyes off of him. "I missed lock out." You shrug nonchalantly, as if you were facing certain death if you slept on the sidewalk tonight. "They open up at 8 tomorrow and there's always the metro."

"Look," Johnny huffed, now soaked to the bone while you got sheltered underneath the door's archways.. "Get in the car and I'll at least take you there. The train station on this side of town isn't exactly a place a lass like you should be staying. I'll take you somewhere safer and leave you be. Alright?"

You look back to the closed doors behind you, weighing your options. You were warned about the freeze, but your job had ran later than normal. Your asshole boss cutting you off last. Your feet ached and you were in a skirt, sheer black panty hose with a donated puffer jacket covering the shirt provided by the pub.

Laundry day wasn't for another two days and it was your only jacket. It wouldn't be dry in time for your shift in the morning.

Fuckkkkkkkk.

Why you? Why was it always you?

"Just to the station." You said.

"Just to the station," he repeated.

"And you're not getting anything in return, you know?" You wanted him to know. You weren't looking for a handout, but if he would help you he wasn't going to get anything more than a verbal 'thank you.'

"Don't expect to." He shook his head. "Come on before ye' get sick standing here in nothing but your stockings and a jaiket."

He makes his way over, opening the passenger door, waiting for you to follow.

You take a moment. You're options are limited. The decision a clear one.

You run from your covered sanctuary into the blistering cold rain. He just waits until you're entirely inside the car before shutting the door.

The car was warm and smelled... nice.

It didn't smell stale at all. It seemed like that's all that was around you. The smell of stale piss just outside the pub and stale beer inside of it. The poor circulation of the shelter didn't offer any sort of fresh air and not everyone there took advantage of the hot showers.

But it smelled clean and fresh. Nothing particularly note worth like minty or masculine, or musky. Just like a clean, well taken care of car.

"Name's Johnny by the way." He introduced, not taking his eyes off the road. You gave yours in return. It was only polite. He repeated your name, liking a little too much how it sounded falling from his lips. "Fitting. Bonnie name for a bonnie lass." He didn't turn and give you a cheeky wink. He kept his eyes straight ahead, trying to see through the rapid swiping of the wipers and the rain.

The two of you sat in silence even though he ached to ask you a million questions. He wanted more than just your name.

Where were you from? How did you end up in the shelter? Had you always been in this situation? Were you safe? Is that why you were so sad that day that day he saw you?

"Everyone seems to be out leaving the match." He said instead, noticing the influx of traffic that had began to build.

"Match?" You asked.

"Aye." He said. "Some football match."

"Oh." You said. "Right." You had wanted to work that night in hopes of making a decent tip or two, but the curfew was strict at the shelter so you opted out.

And still got locked out.

"Might as well make yourself comfy." He sighed, leaning back against his seat. "Looks like we'll be a minute."

The warm air incased you fully now. Having warmed up the numbness in your poor toes. If it wouldn't have been seen as rude, you would have taken off your kitten heels and given your feet some relief.

The car's seats were more comfortable than the cot at the shelter. Add that with your exhaustion from an almost twelve hour shift from serving breakfast to finishing the dinner rush, it was starting to become a fight to stay awake.

But you could spare a few seconds of closing your eyes.

There were cars lined up. People, now, all around you. If you felt him try anything funny you would know. It was okay just to rest your eyes for a moment or two.

So you did.

You let the soft hum of the car drown out the noise of outside as the pitter patter of rain lull you to sleep. Your breathing deepened.

It wasn't until Johnny saw in the window's reflection that your eyes had closed that you hadn't turned away to avoid conversation.

You had fallen asleep.

In his car.

It was a no brainer for him that he wouldn't take you to a fucking metro station to sleep. He planned to just take you to a hotel, put a wad of cash in your hand and tell you he meant it. He wasn't looking for a whore. He just wanted to help you.

Or...

Or he could do it.

He could do what Simon had given him the green light to do two months ago when his obsession in finding you had peaked the Lieutenant's interest. It wasn't every day Johnny had fancied a lass longer than a passing glance. He was the type who rarely remembered names.

So when Simon had suggested bringing you home, Johnny thought he was just pulling his leg. Simon couldn't have been seriously considering... sharing? The two of them were together. More than just brothers in arms. It was a thought, once upon a time about adding a more feminine energy to the relationship, but Johnny didn't like any of them enough to have them stick around and Simon didn't like anyone except for Johnny.

But now, it was different.

This was you. The girl who had plagued his thoughts, his dreams for months. The girl he had lost sleep over. The girl who he had thought he would never going to see again.

But now you were here.

Now.

If he was going to do it, he had to do it now.

No turning back.

[andshesaidwhat]

Cherry - Clay Beresford

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six |

Summary: After the boundaries are pushed a bit too far, you and Clay agree that you both need to be more careful about adhering to the rules going forward. That lasts for all of about ten minutes…

Warnings: angst, descriptions of sex work, alcohol consumption, dry humping, coming in pants, nipple play, the pining is strong as ever.

Playlist | Masterlist

After another week went by with no sign of Clay, you began to wonder if he was busy with work or if he had just finally decided that you weren’t worth his time.

This was why you hadn’t wanted to be involved with someone like him. You didn’t like how much it consumed your mind. He was all you were able to think about lately.

You had replayed that last meeting in your head over and over, cursing yourself for pushing it so far but craving to feel that fire again. You hadn’t even touched him, but that connection had still been the most visceral thing you had ever felt.

You stared at your reflection in the vanity mirror, wondering how you’d let yourself fall in this deep. You knew better than to get roped into the romantic ideology that men like him subscribed to, but things with Clay felt…different.

“He’ll be back, babes,” Frenchie spoke, coming up behind you and resting her chin on your shoulder.

You held her gaze in the reflection of the mirror, softly sighing as you playfully rolled your eyes.

“I’m not worried about that, French,” you told her, shrugging dismissively. “He’s just a customer, that’s all. He’s no different than any other patron here.”

“Except for the fact that he owns a multibillion dollar corporation,” she said, quietly. When she saw your wide eyes, she scoffed, “What? I have eyes, doll face, I can recognize a celebrity when I see one. Besides, he’s been plastered all over TMZ enough times that he could get rich from the royalties, alone.”

“He…” you paused, glancing around to make sure the other dancers weren’t listening. “He just wants some privacy. I don’t think he wants it getting out that he’s spending so much of his time in a place like this.”

“You mean you don’t think it would fit his lovely public image?” Frenchie joked, snickering as she nudged you. “I’m joking, Cherry-pop. The man has every right to live his own life without it becoming the next big news story. You don’t have to worry about me running my trap. The other girls, however… They may not talk, but they’re certainly waiting for their turn with him. If you’re truly so tired of him, maybe you should let one of them take him off your hands.”

You felt a sudden spike of anger as the bitter taste of jealousy settled on your tongue. Frenchie smirked knowingly at you, laughing quietly as she shook her head.

“Just a customer my ass…” she snorted, walking over to sit down at her station. “You want my advice? Rules are meant to be broken — and I’m not just talking about the club.”

Her words sank in, settling heavy in your chest as you looked away from her. You sighed, shaking your head as you busied yourself with touching up your hair and makeup.

Sal walked into the back, clipboard in hand, and he idled on over to you. He looked up, glancing between you and Frenchie as he sensed the tense atmosphere.

“I don’t wanna know,” he said, sighing. “You’ve got a customer, Cherry. Room four. The kid’s gonna buy this whole place out sooner or later. Dunno what you’ve been doing to the boy, but keep doing it.”

As Sal walked off, you felt your heart begin to race. He was here. Oh, god…he was here. You didn’t know whether to feel ecstatic or to crumple in a complete panic. You settled for a dazed middle ground as you took one last look at your appearance and adjusted your lingerie set.

“Mr. Admirer awaits you,” Frenchie teased, wiggling her eyebrows at you. You glared at her with a huff, feeling your palms growing sweaty.

The hallway seemed to go on forever as you made your way down to the looming door of room four. With a shaky hand, you reached for the handle and pushed it open.

Your breath escaped you as you walked into the room and met the gaze of his dazzling blue eyes. Your heart was in your throat and your feet felt rooted to the ground. You had thought a week would be enough time for the effects to wear off…but no.

“Hey, pretty boy,” you said, quietly.

Clay’s eyes locked onto yours, his face flushed as he spoke with just as much tenderness, “Cherry.” He walked toward you, his movements slow and deliberate. “I’ve missed you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve thought about you every day since we last saw each other. I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to come back.”

The confirmation that he’d been thinking about you as much as you’d been thinking about him tugged on your heart.

“I was beginning to think you’d ran for the hills,” you joked — though your voice betrayed your doubt. You held his gaze until it became too much to bear, then you looked away and cleared your throat. “We, um…we may have pushed the boundaries a bit too far the last time we met. Going forward we should probably stick to the rules.”

“Yes,” Clay agreed, nodding. “We need to respect the boundaries.”

His eyes told a different story, however. They burned with desire, his gaze lingering on the curves of your lips. His fingers twitched by his sides, as if itching to reach out and touch you.

“I’ll try to behave,” he confirmed, his voice hoarse.

“Thank you,” you said, biting back every urge to say fuck it and break every goddamn rule in the book. “Besides, this will give you more time to ask your questions and tell your stories.”

“Oh, I have a story to tell you, Cherry,” he smiled, moving to sit down on the couch. His eyes never left yours as he leaned forward, propping his elbows onto his knees. “It’s a story about a boy who fell for a girl, but couldn’t have her. He would do anything to be with her, but she was out of reach. He would dream of her every night — of the way she looked at him and the way she made him feel. He would wake up every morning hoping that she would be there, waiting for him…but she never was.” He paused, his gaze intense as he looked at you with longing. “The boy would wonder — was it all just a dream? Is this a dream, Cherry? Are you just a dream? I’m beginning to think that I’ve made you up in my mind as some sort of psychotic delusion.”

You tried to ignore the way your heart pounded as you smiled at him, a hint of laughter in your voice as you asked, “You think I’m made up?”

“I think that maybe I’ve created you in my mind,” he breathed. “Maybe you’re just a figment of my imagination.”

You stared at him for a moment before you said, “Stand up, pretty boy.”

Clay rose from the couch and moved to stand in front of you, his body tense with anticipation. He was ready to do anything you might ask of him.

“Yes, Cherry?”

You moved closer until you were a breath away from him, peering up into his eyes.

“I may not be able to touch you, but there are still ways that I can prove to you I’m real,” you told him. “Can you smell the subtle hint of perfume on my skin?”

Clay’s eyes closed as he inhaled deeply. The sweet, faint scent set his senses ablaze as he sighed.

“Yes,” he whispered, his eyes opening to lock onto you. “I can smell you.”

“Good,” you smiled, leaning up to let your lips hover near his ear. “Can you hear my voice?”

“Yes,” he nodded, shivering at the soft sound of your whispers. “I can hear you.”

You walked around his frame, moving behind him as you stood on your tiptoes to gently blow on the back of his neck.

“How about that? Can you feel that?”

“Yes,” Clay gasped at the tickle of your breath, feeling goosebumps erupt onto his skin. “I can feel you.”

“See?” You grinned, walking back around him until you were stood in front of him again. “I’m real, pretty boy.”

Clay’s gaze was locked on you, his heart thudding inside of his chest. He could see you — the way you batted your lashes, the way you smiled at him.

A small, fond smile tugged at his lips as he whispered, “I suppose you are, Cherry.”

“Good,” you smirked. “Now that we’ve got that settled, why don’t you pour me a glass of that champagne you brought.”

Clay breathed out a laugh as he turned toward the ice bucket. He grabbed the bottle, popping the cork and picking up a glass. His hands trembled slightly as he poured the drink, watching the bubbles fizz to the top.

“Here you are, Cherry,” he said, handing out the glass for you to take.

You held his gaze, smiling as you reached for it. You weren’t paying close enough attention. Your fingers grazed his as you took the flute from him and you gasped, letting go of the drink as it fell to the floor with a loud clank.

Electricity zapped your fingertips. The touch was so small, but it had happened. You had touched him. After weeks of building up boundaries, your skin had finally touched his.

Your chest heaved up and down as you stared at him, wordlessly. His eyes were wide, his own breaths coming out in ragged pants. He could feel the electric current between you.

“Cherry,” he whispered, his voice thick with desire.

“I…” You attempted to speak, but words fell short. You were stuck in his gaze, feeling the remnants of his touch on your fingertips. So light, and yet…it was the catalyst to undo the final shred of your resolve.

Your eyes wandered down to his lips. His full, perfect lips…

“Cherry,” he breathed, his own gaze following suit as he leaned closer to you. “Please.”

There was nothing you could do to stop your body from moving on its own accord as you reached up to grab his face, bringing his lips down to yours.

Clay instantly sighed into your mouth, wrapping his arms around you to pull you close to him. His warmth enveloped you as he parted his lips, his tongue pushing past to taste yours.

The world around you melted away as your bodies melded into one another. The spilled champagne was long forgotten and the music faded into the sound of ragged breaths between you.

You were both lost in the moment, in the sensation of your lips touching, in the thrill of breaking the rules — of giving into your desires.

You pressed your body into his, relishing in the contact. You tried to memorize the way he felt against you — the way his hands roamed, the way he held you, the way he tasted.

He kissed you like he needed you — like yours was the only air he could breathe.

Without breaking the kiss, you placed your hands on his chest and pushed him backwards until the back of his legs hit the edge of the couch. He stumbled, falling down against the cushions and bringing you with him. He groaned as you straddled his lap, wrapping his arms tighter around you.

Your fingers tangled in his hair as the kiss grew more intense. Your nails gently scraped at his scalp, earning a small shiver as his breath hitched. You sucked his bottom lip into your mouth, gently biting down on it.

Clay moaned, his hips surging upward as he pulled you closer. His large hands wandered up to brush over the cups of your bra, squeezing softly.

You whimpered against his lips, arching into his touch. You were craving more, craving him.

His fingers traced across the thin fabric, tugging lightly at your nipples. His actions elicited a soft cry from your throat and he hummed in satisfaction. He used his thumbs to circle the sensitive buds, letting his tongue dance against yours.

It was ridiculous how natural this was for him. He didn’t even have to open his eyes to play your body like an instrument he’d known his entire life.

You moaned into his mouth, feeling the arousal pooling between your thighs at his teasing touch. You could feel the ache burning within you — the need, the desire.

You adjusted in his lap until you could feel his erection pressing up against your core. You ground your hips down against him, gasping at the friction of him pressed up into you.

Clay groaned, his eyes snapping open to meet yours. The blue in his eyes was nearly non-existent, his pupils blown with lust. The intensity of his gaze would’ve made your knees buckle, had you still been standing.

“Cherry,” he panted, his voice hoarse. “Tell me you want this.”

“I want this,” you breathed, grinding against him. “God, I want this.”

Clay grabbed your chin, moaning softly at your response. “Then take what you want,” he demanded. “Show me how much you want me, Cherry.”

You held his gaze as you slowly moved your hips, watching his eyes flutter at the sweet friction. You leaned forward and captured his lips again in a slow, passionate kiss. You grabbed his chin and tilted his head, kissing across his jaw. You trailed your lips down his neck, nipping and sucking at his pulse point before soothing the area with your tongue.

You moved your mouth up to his ear and whispered, “You feel so good, pretty boy.”

Clay’s eyes rolled back as his head lolled to the side. He kept a firm grip on your hips, dragging you back and forth against his crotch.

“Yeah, Cherry,” he groaned through heavy breaths. “Feels so fucking good.”

Your soft moans against his ear caused his hips to buck as his mouth found yours again. You could feel the constant friction beginning to stir a steady thrum of pleasure that was building in the pit of your stomach. Clay gripped your ass, kneading the flesh as he moved you faster against him. He returned your kiss with urgency, the desperation he felt evident in the way he devoured you.

“Fuck,” he panted. “You’re going to make me come like this.”

You held his face, giving him a knowing smirk as you continued to move against him. His eyebrows were knit together as he tried to ground himself, but the pleasure was too intense. His hips met yours at a particularly delicious angle and a whine escaped your lips. His eyes darkened further as he repeated the action, both of you desperately chasing a release. You gripped onto his shoulders for leverage, gasping for breaths as you felt your body humming with need.

Both of you were teetering on the edge, nearing the precipice. He rested his forehead against yours, holding your gaze as the space between you was a mingle of breathy moans.

He thrust upward, meeting you movement for movement as your bodies moved as one. The need to finish this, to reach the peak of pleasure, overwhelmed you both. You were caught in a dance of pleasure, of desire, of hunger. You danced with abandon, solely focused on the connection between you.

“That’s it, baby,” he groaned, pushing you further. “Finish the dance.”

You shivered the moment you heard the word baby slip from his lips. You whimpered, biting down on your lip as he coaxed you closer to the edge.

“I want you to finish it with me,” you panted, trying to hold on to the little restraint you had left.

“Anything you want, baby,” he nodded, a low moan sounding in his throat. “Anything you want.”

His hips surged up at the perfect angle, hitting you exactly where you needed it. He repeated the motion, reaching up to gently cup your face.

“Let go, Cherry.”

You held his gaze as your body soared over the peak, falling into a fit of pleasure as you gasped. Clay watched with rapt attention as you came, the sight alone sending him to his own release. He let out a strangled groan as he buried his face in your neck, clutching you tightly as you both rode out your highs.

Moments passed, your breathing ragged as your bodies both moved in sync. Finally, you both relaxed against each other. He pulled back, looking up at you with heavy-lidded eyes.

You held his face, tracing his swollen lips with your thumb before capturing them in a slow kiss. He hummed, contentedly, returning your kiss with sweet devotion as his hand cupped the back of your head.

The world was hazy as you both pulled back, gazing into each other’s eyes. You struggled to catch your breath, overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of it all.

“Cherry,” he breathed, caressing your cheek softly. “That was…”

“Incredible,” you finished for him, smiling softly.

Despite your better judgment, you laid your head down on his shoulder and buried your face in his neck. You inhaled the musk of his cologne, breathing him in as you relaxed in his arms. He wrapped his arms tightly around you, holding you close as he gently ran his fingers through your hair.

You knew that this was a mistake you’d be sure to regret, but you wanted to bask in the affection. You hadn’t known such comfort in so long…

“Tell me another story,” you whispered, clutching the fabric of his shirt in your fists — as if he’d fly away if you didn’t hold him down.

“Okay, Cherry,” Clay smiled, stroking your face with his thumb. “How about the story of a young boy who grew up with a dream to make something of himself — to continue a legacy. He worked hard, chased his dreams, and eventually found success…” he paused, his fingers trailing up and down your arm, “…but even with all of the fame and fortune, he still sought something more.”

“Why did he want more?” You asked, tracing the buttons of his shirt with your finger. “Was he unhappy?”

Clay’s smile faded slightly, his eyes losing their playfulness. “No, not unhappy,” he said, softly. “Just lonely.” His fingers intertwined with yours, his thumb rubbing your palm. “He found himself successful, but it wasn’t enough. There was a void he couldn’t fill, no matter how many people surrounded him. Then, one day, he met someone…”

You sat up in his lap, facing him. You held his hand, playing with his fingers as you waited for him to continue. He watched you intently, his heart in his throat.

“He met someone who made him feel alive,” he continued, softly. “Someone who saw past the fame and the facade. It made him realize that…maybe he’d been chasing the wrong legacy all along. Maybe a life well lived is less about the fortune, and more about the people you’d want to share it with.”

You held his gaze, feeling the threat of tears sting your eyes. You opened your mouth to respond, but the shrill ring of the timer sounded — signaling the end of the session.

“Shit,” you cursed, grimacing. You looked at him with apologetic eyes and said, “I have to go work the rest of my shift.”

Clay’s heart sank at the sound — the sudden reminder of reality. He didn’t want you to leave. He didn’t want the moment to end.

“Yeah,” he whispered, softly, his voice filled with disappointment. “Work.”

“Don’t worry, pretty boy,” you told him, holding his face in your hands. “You’re the only rule breaker I’ll allow.”

You leaned down to place a gentle, slow kiss to his lips before climbing off of his lap. Your body immediately missed the warmth he provided. You felt hollow, having to step away from him again.

“Thanks, Cherry,” he whispered, smiling sadly. “I’ll hold on to that.”

He stood up and straightened his clothes, trying to shake off the lingering sensations.

You couldn’t help but glance down at his crotch, stifling a giggle at the wet patch that had formed on the front of his pants.

“You should, uh…you should probably cover that,” you laughed biting your lip.

Clay blushed, his eyes dropping down. He groaned, an embarrassed smile pulling at his lips as he untucked his shirt to hide the evidence.

“Yeah, I should,” he murmured, his cheeks pink.

You couldn’t resist reaching up to kiss him one more time. He sighed against your lips, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist. He kissed you like he may never get the chance again. You could feel it down to your toes as he poured himself into this fleeting moment.

You pulled back and rested your forehead against his as he peered down at you.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

He held your gaze for a moment longer before stepping back, giving you space. He knew you had to get back to work, and he respected that. Still, a part of him wished you didn’t have to go.

“I’ll see you around, pretty boy,” you said, taking one last long look at him before leaving the room and returning to the real world.

You missed him the moment he was out of sight. You wanted nothing more than to run back into that room and tell him to take you away — but that wasn’t a story you could write for yourself.

You changed into a clean costume, but you could still feel his touch against your skin. You never wanted to wash that feeling off of you.

When you walked back up to your vanity, Frenchie looked at you with a shit-eating grin.

“You little rule-breaker,” she whispered, poking your arm with a laugh. “The smell of sex is practically wafting off of you, babes.”

You couldn’t help but blush, frantically shushing her as you looked around. Realizing that nobody else was paying attention, you bit your lip and looked back at her.

“Do you think I’m taking a huge risk, French?”

“Yes,” she nodded, without hesitation, “and it’s about time you did.”

You sat back in your chair as her words sank in, unable to shake the feeling that this was the start of something that would change your life forever.

By the time you were gathering your things and getting ready to clock out for the night, Sal met you in the back with a wad of cash. You took it from him, seeing a tiny piece of paper sticking out between the bills.

When Sal retreated back to the front with a grunt of acknowledgment, you grabbed the paper and unfolded it.

For Cherry,

From Your Pretty Boy.

Your heart fluttered. Your pretty boy. The implications of that word alone were very dangerous.

You gasped as your turned the paper over, bringing your hand up to your mouth.

Across the back, he had scrawled his phone number. You stared at it long enough that you could have committed it to memory. Those numbers stared back at you, daring you to risk everything.

You wouldn’t call him. You couldn’t call him. That would mean breaching every rule in the book — both the club’s and your own.

No matter how badly you wished that they could, your worlds could not collide. There was a reason why Romeo and Juliet ended in tragedy. You both existed on opposite sides of life.

If you were to bridge that gap, to cross that divide, it would surely be your ruin.

————————————————————————

tag list

@bxbyysstuff @dollyiia @haydensbbg @dinorawrss @ann4zw

[the-californicationist]

What if Price got migraines, so he came to your piercing shop to get a Daith put in to help (because he hates taking meds). But then, he decides to get more done....

"Sweet Relief" (AO3 Link)

The shop had been quiet all winter. It started with No Ink November, an inside joke you and your business partners laughed about every year. Money was tight, that was for sure, and no amount of Instagram deals or tell-a-friend coupons were going to dig you out. So, you’d been practicing with your piercing skills. Your shop had plenty of tattooists, and one girl was even a specialist in scarification, but no one did piercings. You decided to work hard and fill a niche. 

It was a cold January morning, and you rolled into the shop around noon, setting up your station for your three o’clock appointment, a daith piercing. The guy had booked online with some generic disciple name like Mark or Luke or something. You checked the sheet. 

“John…” 

Based on his questionnaire, it was his first piercing, but he’d been tattooed by your shop partner, Caitlyn.

“Hey, Cait!” You called into the back of the shop. 

She shouted back,

“Sup?”

“You know a John Price?”

She poked her head around the door and came over to your station,

“Sure do. He’s a total hunk. Some army guy. Comes in about two or three times a year for work. Is he cheating on me?” She laughed, ribbing you. 

“He wants a daith,” you showed her the sheet. 

“Huh,” she shrugged, “Cool. Enjoy it, babe.”

Winking and laughing to herself, Cait ducked back into her station and you waited for the man to show up. 

Then, like he had been summoned, the shop’s door bell tinkled and an enormous, bearded man stepped through. He was in casual clothes, and he wore a wool beanie to keep out the cold. He looked around the space calmly, giving a polite nod and a wave to Cait. When his eyes found you, he smiled, 

“Hey.” 

Goddamn if his voice wasn’t like a warm fire on a snow day. It rumbled, low and deep through the room, hitting you right in your chest, surprising you. 

“Hey!” You recovered, “You must be John. Come around.”

“Yeah,” he made his way over to you and sat in your chair, “I’m here for the daith piercing.”

“Gotcha. I’m all ready for you. I’ll clean the site, mark it, and I’ll show it to you before we commit.”

You got to work, studying his face as you worked. There were little scars here and there, and a big one near his temple, ragged and rough. You rubbed cleanser on his ear and asked him,

“So, why this one? You get headaches?”

“Sure do. Don’t always have meds out in the field, so I needed something a bit more permanent.” 

You gave him a curious look,

“The field?”

“Army. Special Forces. That’s where I got this beauty you were admirin’.” He thumbed the large scar on his brow.

You blushed a bit. He sure was observant. 

“Ouch,” you said, “I promise this won’t hurt half as bad. Here, have a look.”

You held up the mirror to let him see the mark you’d made. He shrugged,

“You know best, love. I trust you.”

His words stirred something in your belly. You liked the pet name, and his ease with trusting you went right to your head. 

“Alright, hold still, John. You wanna count?”

“No,” he smiled and turned his eyes on you, watching you work on him. 

You shoved the needle into his skin and watched his eyes close as the pain washed over him. He took it in stride, smiling when you finished with the hard part. He opened them again to watch you, and he almost seemed to look at you with some level of desire. So, you tried out a pet name of your own.

“There you go, handsome. All set.”

“Cait should’ve warned me. Had no idea my pain would come at the hands of such a pretty artist.”

“Careful, soldier. Gonna get yourself a tongue ring on the house if you keep buttering me up like that,” you showed him the barbell you’d installed, and he took a cursory glance at it. 

“Maybe that’ll be my next one. I heard they work wonders.”

“On migraines?” You laughed, confused by his tone. 

“No,” he leaned forward, putting himself in your space, “On pretty artists.”

[killuintense]

uh, olá, vi que os pedidos estão abertos e gostaria de fazer um pedido, pode ser leon re2, pode ser nsfw ou cute (já que ele é cute) onde ele encontra o leitora na delegacia e ele se vê em uma necessidade de protegê-la em tudo

❝ see you, leon ❞

rookie!leon kennedy x fem!reader

Warning: first part, second part, final part / cont. smut

summary: Leon thought that his stay for work in Raccoon City would be boring and monotonous. But he didn't know that the Chief of Police had such a... interesting daughter.

content: 3.2k words, fluff, cute Leon, no Racoon City canon events, soft perv leon.

note: when i read your request i was excited because it was an idea that I had in mind for a while, and knowing that someone was interested encouraged me to write it! thank you for entrusting it to me, i'm sorry if it's too long. however, it will have one more part as i have in my plans. enjoy it, sweetheart ♡

Leon was often naive. But he could not help being a little clumsy sometimes; and that day he tried not to make it so obvious, as he walked behind the officer who was talking to him and indicating the different offices corresponding to each cadet.

That day he had arrived late, he didn't hear the alarm and of course; he had stayed late trying to reassure his ex-girlfriend who had insulted him in every possible way for being "a lying bastard" when he told her that he had chosen Racoon City as his work destination. According to the officers in charge of him in his police training, he had been practically the best performer, so they gave him the permission to choose any work assignment he wanted.

Why Racoon City? Well... ignoring the fact that he thought it was funny that it was named after such a "cute" (in his own words) animal, the amount of unsolved case news caught his attention.

There was only one problem: his girlfriend -now ex- to whom he had to give the terrible news and, as if that wasn't enough, run off to town because they were short-staffed, so he couldn't even fire her. It hurt, yes, but they had been three months together in which he had seen little or nothing except for those short vacations they spent together; it was almost a sigh in his opinion.

That's why he didn't count on the warmth in his chest he felt as he entered the main room, where all the cadets stood among the paperwork and calls, watching a young woman laughing along with one of the officers. "And this is where we usually spend most of our time" the officer in charge explained to him, gently reaching out his arms and looking sideways at him, denying with a chuckle "Kid, it's your first day, you're late and now you're distracted" he gently pats the blond and he seems to wake up from his silly slumber. He lost himself in the laughter of that girl a few months away, jokingly fighting with the other boy.

"I wish I could concentrate once in my life when I study here, Jake," you said to the officer next to you, who was jokingly reading the notes in your notebook. Leon laughed softly, he thought it was adorable how you stood on your tiptoes trying to reach your notebook, snorting at the failed attempt.

"And to top it off you get distracted by the boss's daughter" Jones laughs loudly, and Leon looks at him with a sheepish blush, freezing in place.

"Why would the officer's daughter be here? It's dangerous" he frowned and the officer laughed, he seemed to be making fun of him all the time; especially with that stupid nickname he gave him" 'rookie' he had said as soon as he welcomed him to Raccoon station.

"Well, the Chief would rather I spend time studying here than at home alone, I guess" he shrugged and pointed to the desk "You're in your lucky day, this is your workplace, rookie, here's your desk; and it's in front of Miss (y/n)" he meant you, who was now concentrating on her sheets and writing carefully.

Leon would be lying if he said he wasn't thanking God for putting the idea in his head to choose Raccoon City (apparently being guided by his parameters of "adorability" for an animal had served him well). He couldn't remember ever seeing someone so... cute, beautiful, with that unique harmony. It seemed that a force was pushing him to want to get closer to you; to want to protect you. And although that was his job, after all he chose that profession for a reason, he felt from a distance that it was not the same as with the others. That he would never be able to take care of you enough.

"Come, let's go say hello" the officer guided him, pushing him gently by the back to take him to the desk where you were, and after dodging a couple of tables, they arrived "(y/n)! Guess what? A new victim has arrived" he joked noisily, and soon Leon felt his legs trembling, he felt even there your scent and perfume invading him, and your presence hypnotizing him even worse now that he was closer.

You looked up, expecting to find someone Jake's age, who already had two children and was married, but your surprise was gigantic when a blond with eyes too beautiful to describe appeared in front of you. You had never seen him before; because if you had, you would have remembered him. Obviously you would have.

"Hey..." your words caught on your tongue and you laughed nervously, rising almost on impulse to reach out your hand "They were talking about you a lot here..." you tried to joke, afraid of looking like a fool but soon you felt your hearing being clouded by his soft laughter. Probably the most beautiful you had ever heard in your life.

"Leon Kennedy, a pleasure" he introduced himself, shaking your hand gently. Even in his touch you felt as if he didn't want to hurt you, as if he had used the slightest of strength to shake you in greeting "I hope they said nice things" he joked back.

"Hi, likewise the pleasure is mine" you softened your voice as you introduced yourself, and God, you felt the mockery in Officer Jones' gaze, since when were you such a form? If it had been anyone else a simple greeting would have been enough, but you felt you didn't want to take your presence away from him. "Well, you know how they are here, they didn't even deign to tell me your name, I really started to believe your name was 'rookie'" suddenly you noticed that his face turned as red as a tomato and his hands separated with some denial, you could even assure that he had noticed your doubt when doing so. For God's sake.

But before the embarrassment was too obvious Jones laughed outrageously again "Oh, Kennedy you look pathetic" he said and Leon frowned in confusion, making you bite your lip to hold back a giggle "I guess you will see each other often, the young lady studies here because her father is stubborn to accept that she is already a young college girl who can walk on her own" she denied and put her hands on her hips, while tapping the floor with her shoes.

"Oh, Jones, try to understand him. It's only my first year" you jokingly scold, sitting back down "Welcome Leon, I hope you feel comfortable in Raccoon City. It's really nice here."

'Oh, relax, I've seen enough of you to know that Raccoon City has the most beautiful view of all' thought Leon, feeling like a teenager again for having such cheesy thoughts. Cheesy and hormonal.

Soon they said their goodbyes, Jones hurrying the blond to go change into his uniform and start glancing at the paperwork waiting for him on his desk. Leon hadn't seen so much paperwork since the time he had to prepare for his final exam to graduate from high school.

However, he couldn't help visit your desk with his eyes whenever he could. Sometimes concentrating on the sheets, sometimes sighing because you didn't understand something, and sometimes talking to some officer who joked with you or asked you how things were going. Apparently they had known you since you were little, as he learned, since your father was well known in town for being the head of the department; and the affection was noticeable among the cadets, who made a point of wishing you luck in your exams before leaving for some job where they were required for days at a time. Leon felt jealous of them, they had had the joy of seeing you for years, days and days where they could share your presence. He really envied them.

Leon would love to say that the goofy feeling in his eyes when he saw you was only for a couple of days and then he could concentrate properly on his work. But that would be a lie. And every time they seemed to run into each other more and more at the station. Like that time Leon decided to make himself a coffee in the break area, he had been too deep in research at his desk and it wasn't just his butt that was starting to bother him.

"Fuck, they didn't train me to avoid back pain" he complained to himself, putting the water on the electric kettle at his side to heat up. He carefully placed the coffee in the mug he had been given as a gift when he became a policeman.

"Oh, you beat me" he heard a soft little voice and felt all his aches and pains go away. There you were again. "I wanted to put some water to drink some tea" you laughed, denying as you approached with a pink cup in your hands.

"I-I've put enough water in!" he almost sounded a bit rushed to say that, making you laugh on the way "It'll suffice for both of us" he soothed, noticing your look of compression at his words. Seriously Leon was like a silly puppy. You stood next to him and began to prepare the infusion "And.... is everything going well with your studies?" he asked, clearing his throat as he folded his arms and leaned gently against the marble table.

"Mhm... I could say yes" a smile played across your lips, but you soon sighed "But it's complicated, I thought Freud would talk about more things than just why you're a terrible person for being raised defectively by your parents" you joked, glancing sideways with a smile playfully. Leon looked like he couldn't hold back a laugh, throwing his head back.

"I understand you, I thought I'd be solving my first case by now but the truth is getting more tedious than I imagined" he spoke complicitly, looking at you as he smiled, he seemed as comfortable with your presence as you were with his stay. It felt good to have someone close to your age who seemed to understand you.

"In fact, you seem very focused, looking at papers and writing on your notebook or computer" you had practically admitted to watching him from the privacy of your desk but you couldn't help the comment, it was endearing how he frowned in despair when the dots didn't seem to match and he had to go back and reread everything one more time. As adorable as now that his ears were as red as the apple he was devouring in the morning (very cute too) and his hands were nervously playing with the zipper of the jacket with his officer's badge. It should be illegal, however ironic, to look that good in uniform.

"Oh! Look at the water" he laughed nervously once the sound of the heater alerted them that the water was already at its indicated point, turning it off. Nerves were on edge inside the blond as he held you close, having to watch you carefully for fear of something happening to you, missing some event in your life "Let me, I'll put it in, we don't want you to burn yourself..." a soft voice came from him, deep and careful as he poured the water carefully into the cup.

"Thank you, Leon" he almost staggered the water filled device in his hands, hearing his name said in your voice with that soft and cute yet sensual and determined tone that made his hairs twitch as a jolt of electricity melted through his body. You were so close, with your arms touching, making the size difference between the two of you more evident; even though Leon wasn't exaggeratedly tall, his body was thick and strong. You felt yourself going crazy as the seconds passed. "Hey... I made you something..." you seemed more shy now, without any hint of the confidence you had since you entered the room. You played with your fingers and before you wanted to think about it too much, you looked for something in your backpack that you left there along with the other people's things "Look, I don't know if you're a fan of sweets but I wanted to leave you this little detail" you let out a nervous giggle and handed her a little bag decorated with a blue bow that you had prepared the day before. They were heart-shaped chocolate and vanilla cookies. Now you felt it had been too much, but before you could apologize or excuse yourself for that detail, Leon was about to choke on his coffee.

"Are you serious?" his gaze lit up, he set the cup aside trying to compose himself (and not feel so foolish) as he took the cute little bag in his hands.

"Yeah, I didn't know if you liked chocolate or vanilla better so I made you both..." a shy tone came through again, you were trying to ignore how hot your cheeks were not knowing that Leon wanted to hug you and kiss them softly. You were completely unaware of the way the blond's heart was shrinking and he had the need to squeeze you until you were soaked with his love. It was too much to hold in his body.

"You're the best, I don't think I've tasted homemade cookies in years" Leon praised, not wanting to open the bag just to admire the way you had decorated it with that blue bow, ignoring now that you based your choice of color on his beautiful eyes.

"I'll take it into account to bring you more often" now you could speak with more composure, taking your cup and smiling at him before walking to the exit door "See you, Leon" you gently raised your hand to greet him, leaving the room as if you were a ghost.

"Yeah, see ya..." he murmured softly, resting the baggie gently against his chest in an attempt to frame that moment not only in his head, but in his heart as well.

From that moment on the little details became more common between the two of them. The greetings and little jokes in the morning when you passed by before going to college with your father, the little bags of candy or cookies that you would leave on Leon's desk with little notes of encouragement like 'you can do it', 'have a nice day' or 'Officer Kennedy sounds really good'. You were making it really hard for Leon to relieve those feelings for you and you, on your side, were feeling more and more that those looks and smiles you were sharing were too much for your heart. Especially because you noticed how uncomfortable Leon was, always tense when spoken to and afraid to say anything wrong. But with you he always seemed determined, at your side as if something was going to happen to you and he, always attentive, would drop everything and come to your rescue. Like the time when a man came like crazy to complain about an administrative problem and before even wanting to approach to help (as was common in his person), he preferred to stay in front of your desk, looking at the intruder with distrust and some reluctance.

Those little details made you fall for him more and more. It wasn't what he said or didn't say, what he gave you or didn't give you; it was that way of taking care of you and always keeping you in mind. Would he have a coffee? He always took care to leave water ready for you in the electric kettle, and if he had you by his side, he would serve you tea so that 'you wouldn't burn yourself by accident'. Did he have a job outside? Once he arrived at the station after hours out, he would come running to greet you if you were there, asking you if everything was going well, how your day had been. And if he noticed you were stressed, he'd throw out his silly jokes and support you and listen to whatever you needed. Fucking hell. He was too perfect to be real.

"Kennedy? That was your last name, right?" your father perched next to his desk after leaving his office, the blond stood up quickly and nodded stiffly, attentive to his commands.

"Dad! I told you I can go alone, for God's sake!" you groaned in embarrassment, tugging at his coat sleeve. You had been insisting all morning that someone bring you to the college since he would be busy; you hated it when he treated you like you were a silly teenager. And especially when he had to pester Leon to take you; you were sure he had more interesting things to do than escort his boss's 'spoiled' daughter to the university.

"I'm sorry, Leon, I really tried to get him to let me go alone..." the sorrow was in your voice, he had started the patrol car a few seconds ago and was driving very carefully, not before asking you to put on your seatbelt. As always, an angel.

"Hey, this is my job too" he smiled in an attempt to make you take it as something common for him. You knew it wasn't, but the way he treated you with care considering how you felt made your chest warm "Besides, it helps if I go out for some fresh air" he joked.

"Thanks...makes me feel less guilty" you sighed in relief and shook your head, looking sideways at him "Although, I'm sure it's not your job to drive girls to their places of study, is it?" you laughed now looking out the window.

"Well, even if my job from now on was to be your driver, believe me I'd gladly take it" he said it so matter-of-factly that you felt your legs swoon and you were thankful you were sitting down so that one didn't become embarrassing. You found it hard to believe that he wasn't being his usual shy self, but sometimes his words managed to surprise you. You even felt some disappointment when the patrol car stopped, since they had finally arrived at your university; even for the first time in your life you didn't feel that sense of disturbance at arriving in a police car and being seen by everyone. You wanted to stay there until they were forced to get off, you didn't want to get away from him.

"Thank you, Leon... really" you spoke with sincerity in your words, even when you saw him smile naturally and in the same way you leaned over and left a soft kiss on his cheek, opening the door before he could say anything "See you in the afternoon, take care" you went downstairs trying not to stumble and closed the door behind you, walking quickly. You didn't know if you were running away from what you just did, but you definitely didn't regret it.

Especially since you left a flushed and statuesque Leon with his hands still glued to the steering wheel. He hadn't expected that, he didn't even anticipate it but....

But it had been the best feeling of his whole fucking life.

[oneshotnewbie]

Joining station 19 and immediately connecting with everyone. You and Andy fall for each other hard and right before you two are going to confess the station gets a bad call where you get badly injured. You need blood so everyone gets tested to see if they are a match. Jack Gibson is and the doctor figures out that you and Jack are twins. Everyone is shocked. Especially Andy. Falling for your ex's long-lost twin sister is crazy. She ends up distancing herself away from the reader who gets hurt and confused. Maya can tell she is hurting herself while doing this. So she tells Andy that if she really cares about the reader then she shouldn't care that her and Jack are twins. Andy goes to the reader and explains herself. Then the two get together. Fluffy and angsty please?

Authors note: Very long story for my standards, and not proofread. I apologize if there are any grammatical errors! ♥

ᕚ---ᕘ

You slowly walked through the open gates of Station 19, your gaze focused, but a friendly smile played on your lips. The fire station, which was full of hectic activity, seemed to pause for a heartbeat at that moment as the eyes of everyone present were focused on you, who walked in with a confident step.

The new members of the team had seen many new faces come and go, but there was something about you that caught everyone's attention. Captain Bishop stepped forward first, offering you her hand with a gentle smile. "Welcome to Station 19, y/l/n. We're glad to have you here."

You shook her hand firmly and nodded happily before pulling away from her and looked around your new workplace. "Thank you, Captain. I'm excited to be a part of this team."

Maya gave you a little tour and led you through the station, introducing you to the other firefighters. The welcome was immediately warm, but when you met Andy Herrera you felt a special connection. Andy, the experienced lieutenant, looked directly at you and for a moment the world seemed to stand still for both of you. "Y/n, right? Nice to meet you."

"Yeah, exactly. And you're Andy, right?" you asked and she nodded at you, taking the friendly route to your new locker. It didn't take long for you to get along with everyone. You showed the team respect for their experience and knowledge of firefighting and impressed your new colleagues with your skills.

Over the next few weeks you became an integral part of the team. During the exercises you showed the full extent of your abilities, but what impressed the others was your dedication and your ability to keep a clear head in stressful situations. Your positive attitude and the way you interacted with those affected by fires infected everyone, and it seemed as if you had been a part of the station for years.

A close bond developed especially between Andy and you. You understood each other on a deeper level than words could express. The looks you exchanged spoke volumes, and it was as if you had found a common language that only existed between you.

In the quieter moments, you often found yourself near the emergency vehicle, deep in conversation. About your past, about your dreams and the challenge of the fire service. But despite the obvious and ever-growing attraction between you, neither dared to speak the words that were hiding in your hearts.

One evening, after a long mission, you sat on the edge of the station and looked out at the city at night. The silence between you was comfortable but also tense while the atmosphere between you was charged. “Y/n, can I ask you something?” She asked into the quiet, catching your eyes as you looked down at her from the city lights, lost in thought. You both tried to understand your own burgeoning feelings and put them into words. "Of course. Ask me anything you want."

Andy struggled with her words, not knowing how she wanted to express her feelings, and just as she was about to say a word and break the silence, she was interrupted by a loud alarm that echoed through the station. Everyone immediately jumped up when the emergency call went out.

"There's a major fire downtown! All hands on deck!" Maya Bishop shouted, the words piercing the air as the station filled with frantic activity. The Latina's confession was suddenly shattered by the reality of fire service. Without another word, you grabbed your gear and ran to the emergency vehicle.

The journey to the fire site passed in hurried silence. The sirens wailed as the images of the burning building grew closer and closer. When the emergency vehicle arrived on the scene, smoke billowed into the air and flames leaped wildly into the darkness. "Y/l/n, Herrera! You are responsible for floors 8-12. Clear the apartments!"

You quickly rushed into the burning building, working hand in hand and coordinating your actions while handing over your stay and condition to the team. The intensive cooperation and trust that had developed between you at the station was now put to the test. But it was precisely in this extreme situation that you found a remarkable synchronicity.

In the middle of the mission, as you tried to save lives and control the fire, Andy and you briefly looked into each other's eyes. At that moment, the flames around you seemed to disappear and time slowed down. It was like your emotions were about to explode in that intense moment. "Andy, there's something I really need to tell you."

"Later, y/n. Let's finish this first." the Latina's words were drowned out by a sudden, loud crash as part of the 10th floor structure collapsed. The floor was flooded with a blinding wave of heat, while screams and the crackling of the ravines merged into a deafening carpet of sound.

You jumped towards Andy to save her from the burning column of rubble that was rushing towards her amidst the chaos. But the heat wave hit you and you were thrown to the ground. Andy saw the scene in horror and picked herself up from the ground before immediately rushing to you. "Y/n! Can you hear me?!"

You could only nod weakly as deep pain pulsed through your body. "Captain, y/n is injured! I need medical attention immediately!" she shouted through the intercom, waiting as other colleagues arrived to fight the fire and rescue you from the rubble.

Your thoughts were heavily clouded by the stabbing pain, but in the midst of the agony and struggle with unconsciousness, you felt Andy holding your hand. "You'll get through this, you hear me? Stay with me!"

While Hughes and Warren took care of you and got you out, the fire was gradually brought under control by Andy, Gibson and Travis. But the emotional flames between Andy and you were brought to a new level by this dramatic incident in which you tried to save her life. The fire in the Latina's heart now burned not only with desire, but also with worry and the desire to be by your side forever.

ᕚ---ᕘ

The bright lights in the hospital waiting room were tense. Your entire team waited with worried faces for news about your health. The quiet hum of the lights and the muffled murmur of other waiting patients filling the room. "What's taking so damn long?!" fumed Andy, who was driven crazy by the long gap in knowledge without any further information about you.

Unbeknownst to them, your situation worsened when you were now lying awake in the examination room and had found out about the need for a blood transfusion when Doctor Meredith Gray determined through all the tests that you urgently needed a blood transfusion.

It was only when Meredith approached the group with a thin smile and wanted to share the news with them that Andy was able to breathe a sigh of relief, but her eyes were still filled with worry. "What's wrong with her? Will she be okay?" Victoria asked immediately, even before the blonde had fully entered the waiting room. "She was lucky in misfortune. A few broken ribs, injuries to her leg, but nothing that she can't overcome. However, she lost a lot of blood and therefore needs a blood transfusion."

The doctor's words echoed through the room and an unpleasant tension settled over those present, but after a brief period of shock, each of the firefighters volunteered to be tested for you.

After a good three quarters of an hour and a thorough examination of the seven samples, the surprising news came that was to give everyone another shocking piece of news that evening. This information would stick with Andy in particular for a long time. "I'm sorry, Lieutenant Herrera, but your blood is not compatible."

The confusion on her face was palpable, as she fervently hoped that she could save your life like you had done for her. Disappointment was reflected in her eyes, the uncertainty about what would happen next hung heavily in the air. "What? That can't be right. I have to be compatible. Test it again!"

"We've already tested it and there's no match. It looks like Jack has the right blood type, though," a brief moment of silence followed as Meredith fiddled with her tablet to double-check. that she recited the correct bullet points that she had discovered. "A genetic hit, even. You can donate immediately."

Shocked looks passed between each team member and Jack as the realization of the family connection sank in and he nodded without hesitation and made himself available. Andy's gaze lingered on him longer than usual, her brow furrowed as she bit her lip and folded her arms under her chest. The doctor's words struck her like a thunderclap, shattering her reality. "Both of you...siblings? That's impossible!"

"It seems so, Andy. Genetic testing seems to have confirmed it. I didn't know myself." Gibson spoke cautiously, the only one knowing that the Latina had had feelings for you for weeks. The revelation left a bitter taste in the air between Andy and Jack. The confusion in her eyes betrayed not only the surprise at the unexpected family connection, but also the fact that Jack Gibson, a former ex of hers, was now identified as your brother. The silence was broken by a heavy sigh as Andy voiced her thoughts. "That can't be right. You and me, we were..."

Jack interrupted immediately, holding his hands to his chest in a calming gesture. "Andy, I didn't know. I swear. But now we're all here to help y/n. We can sort this out later."

You could feel the tension between them both, and the situation suddenly became much more complicated in Andy's eyes than ever before. Andy's thoughts about her feelings for you were overshadowed by the newfound sibling relationship. The feeling of uncertainty spread through her and she didn't know how to deal with this unexpected turn of events.

The dynamics within the team had changed, and the revelation of familial ties not only upset blood relationships, but also brought with it a flood of emotions that were difficult for Andy to handle as Jack was prepared for the blood transfusion and the other firefighters remained in the waiting room, their minds still dominated by the surprising information.

During the transfusion, Andy continued to sit in the waiting room, her eyes wandering between hope and worry. She couldn't ignore the sudden siblinghood and felt that something had fundamentally changed in her life. It set off a chain reaction of emotions that were difficult to process.

After the successful transfusion, Jack entered the waiting room again and the eyes of the others turned to him. "How did it go? Were you able to donate the blood she needed?"

The young man just nodded tiredly and sat down on one of the chairs next to Maya. She gave him a gentle tap on the shoulder, expressing her gratitude for the help and support. "Y/n is stable. The transfusion went well. She will be fine."

A sigh of relief filled the room, but the tension remained. Andy, still torn between emotions and uncertainty, didn't know how to deal with the new reality and you in general. Your hospital stay had revealed not only physical wounds, but also emotional ones that had developed between both of you.

ᕚ---ᕘ

In the days and weeks that followed this revelation, you felt a noticeable change in Andy's behavior towards you as you returned to duty. The usual closeness and familiarity between you seemed to have been broken by an invisible barrier and you didn't quite understand why. The Latina avoided long conversations and your gaze as if she was looking for distance.

You tried to understand the change, but every attempt to talk to Andy about it was met with a cool reserve. Even the small gestures of connection you had previously shared seemed to fade. You could see a look of confusion and uncertainty in Andy's eyes every time she looked at you.

One day you couldn't take it anymore and confronted her, blurting out your emotional distress. "Andy, can you finally fucking talk to me? I don't even know what your freaking problem is. You've been so incredibly distant to me since I was in the hospital and I don't understand why!"

Andy froze when she heard your vulgar pronunciation for the first time and hesitated in her answer for a moment before lowering her gaze. She had to find an excuse. Some excuse that didn't involve her feelings for you. "Everything is so messed up right now! And it has nothing to do with you, but with me."

"That's what they all always say, and basically it has something to do with you. You know what? If you don't want to talk, fine. Then leave it like that and drag our friendship through the mud!" You spat and Andy sighed as she took a step back, even though she just wanted to be close to you. "I'm sorry, y/n, but it's all just too much right now. I need time alone to process some things."

You could see the clear pain in her eyes. Your words left a painful chasm between you that you couldn't ignore. The situation crumbled the delicate structure of your relationship and your attempt to save your connection through another conversation had failed hopelessly.

With a heavy heart, you accepted her answer and disappeared from her surroundings, completely ignoring her from now on. In the time that followed, the distance between you both grew even greater, and the uncertainty put a strain on your work together as partners.

While the Latina tried to process the complexity of the situation, you were left alone with your physical and emotional injuries.

That same evening, after a tiring day on Station 19, where she saw you in every corner of her existence and her heart ached, the brunette looked for some distraction in a nearby bar. The dim lighting and quiet murmurs of the guests created a relaxed atmosphere that helped her sort out her inner turmoil. She sat at the bar all alone, her gaze absently fixated on the glass of whiskey in front of her.

The captain, Maya Bishop, also entered the bar with Carina, and immediately noticed the thoughtful expression on her best friend's face. The bad mood taking over her aura. They ran straight up to her and sat down next to her, the Italian woman already ordering their drinks for the two of them. "Hey, Andy. Are you okay? Where's y/n?"

Andy looked up, a shadow of uncertainty and sadness in her eyes, as the light of the bar began to glitter in her moist eyes. "Hey, Maya. It's... complicated."

The blonde nodded in understanding, sipped the beer she had just received and leaned on the bar before she revealed her observations of the last few days. "I've noticed you've been withdrawing from her lately. Are you still worried about the sibling thing?"

She hesitated for a moment before nodding slightly. Maya gently placing a hand on her upper arm. "Andy, I can see that you're both really upset about what's happening between you right now. But you can't just cut ties with y/n just because Jack is her brother."

She hummed, took a long sip from her glass, and looked thoughtfully at the wall. "I don't know how to deal with it. It's all so complicated.

"I understand that this is all complicated. But don't you think you're hurting yourself by distancing yourself from her? You both have something special and it would be a shame to give that up because of external circumstances."

"But Maya, they're siblings. That's just too much." Andy sighed again, her thoughts seeming to race before her eyes and mine seemed to see a hint of understanding in them. "Yes, it's unusual and complicated. But if you really want to fight for yourself and your connection, you shouldn't let something like this stop you. You love her, that's clearly out of the question. That's what matters ."

Andy's gaze shifted to her best friend as she took in her words. A moment of silence followed before the Latina finally realized the truth. "You're right, Maya. I shouldn't let these circumstances destroy what is between us."

Maya smiled encouragingly and picked up her bottle. A gentle smile also appeared on the brunette's lips and she also pulled out her glass before drinking it down. "I'll get her back. This evening!"

"Exactly, fight for what's important to you. And if you really love her, then don't let something as unimportant as this sister/brother thing destroy that."

The two women sat in silence with Carina for a while, Andy's thoughts swirling around as the bar around them filled with buzz and laughter. In that moment, she began to realize that perhaps it was time to overcome her own doubts and fight for what her heart truly desired.

ᕚ---ᕘ

Night had fallen over the city when Andy stood in front of your apartment building. The night enveloped the streets in an impenetrable darkness as a light rain began to bathe them in a shiny pattern. Maya's words had touched a chord within her, and the urge to find clarity in all the chaos drove her to take the step.

She stormed across the street with hasty steps, the rain lashing against her skin and the cold breeze emphasizing her fear of what she was about to say. Her heart pounded against her chest as she entered the building and climbed the stairs to your apartment. A nervous tingle ran through her limbs as she stood in front of the door. She took a deep breath before tapping her shaking hands vigorously against the wood.

After a moment of listening intently to the footsteps coming from the apartment, you opened the door, surprised to see Andy in this upset state. Your eyes met and the tension between you was palpable. "What are you doing here so late at night?"

"Can I come in?" She asked, completely ignoring your question. You nodded and opened the door wider, your forehead furrowed slightly. She entered the apartment, her soaking wet hair dripping all over the floor while the silence enveloped you like an invisible veil with unsaid words. "Y/n, I.. I can't carry this around any longer. I need to explain something to you."

You sensed the seriousness in her voice and nodded, leading her into your small but cozy apartment. "What's wrong? Did something happen to you on the way here?"

Andy hesitated for a moment before taking a deep breath and saying the words that were trapped inside her. "I've distanced myself from you and I know it hurt you a lot. I was afraid of the whole sibling thing and it confused me about Jack being your brother and our past. But Maya opened my eyes. I can't just let this ruin everything between us."

You listened intently, shifting your gaze from the floor to watching her. Her expression was a mix of confusion and hope. "I felt it and it hurt me deeply not knowing what was going on. The distance in particular was... intense."

"I'm sorry, I really am. But now I'm here to make it right." There was a moment of silence between you before she locked her gaze back into yours. Andy took a deep breath and walked towards you, placing her hand gently on your cheek. "Y/n, I can't hide this any longer. I love you. No matter what happened between us or who our relatives are, I can't deny how I feel for you."

You looked at her and in that moment the insecurities and fears seemed to fade away. Feeling a pang of surprise in your chest, a warm feeling of joy followed and a smile crossed your face. A glimmer of tears glistened in your eyes as her words hung in the air.

"Andy, I love you too. And no matter what life has in store for us, I want to try and share it with you."

The words barely had time to sink in before your lips met in a passionate kiss. A flood of emotions flowed through you as you finally found each other - the uncertainty gave way to the certainty that your love was stronger than any external influence or challenge. The tensions of the past few weeks melted away.

Your apartment seemed to fill with the intensity of your feelings and a hint of romance and warmth. The world around you melted into a blurry background. In that moment you had found what you were looking for. As the night progressed, you stepped hand in hand into a future together, ready to face any challenge and nurture the love that was stronger than any insecurities. You two had found something special in each other.

[morgana-larkin]

Alright! Here it is, part smut, I meant two, part two, lol. It took longer than expected as I hit a creative block and was working a lot, as I did 26 hours on set in 2 days. Anyway, I would like to thank @esposadejoyhuerta for helping me by giving me angst free, I repeat, angst free, ideas and helped through my block. Not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!

On another note: I’m getting through Worth It as I got an idea on how to continue it as I have 3000 words for it right now. So expect it hopefully tomorrow.

Part 1

Calling 911 - Part 2

Warnings: Smut, lots of fluff

Words: 2k

*one week later*

Melissa: do I need to bring anything?

You: just yourself

You…with clothes that are easily removed ;)

Melissa: how subtle

You: I never said I was subtle

Melissa: fair

“Texting y/n again?” Barb says and Melissa looks up at her from her phone.

“Maybe.” Is all Melissa says and Barb rolls her eyes.

“You guys have been messaging each other all week. When are you going out on a date?” Barb asks her and Melissa freezes.

“Well we’re going out tomorrow night.” Melissa says and Barb joins her on the couch.

Melissa’s family never celebrates Christmas on Christmas Day. Everyone always has different parties and events to go too. So instead, they always celebrate it on the 27th and Barb and Gerald joined in this time.

“Oh how fun. Where are you going on a date?” Barb asks her and Melissa blushes.

“I um, I don’t know. She won’t tell me, wants it to be a surprise.” Melissa says, not wanting to get into specifics with Barb about the date.

The next day Melissa is getting ready for the date, she decides to go for a green shirt, leggings and her black heeled boots. She curls her hair and does her makeup and then makes her way to the fire station.

When she gets there, she notices that there’s only one fire truck there and she goes and puts her hand on it, smiles and stares.

“You really do like fire trucks.” You tell her and she turns and looks at you, and her breath catches in her throat. There you are in full firefighter gear, complete with the helmet and you look stunning.

“Wow.” She says and you smile.

“Thought you might like the outfit.” You tell her and walk towards her. “I kicked everyone out for the night, they’re hanging out somewhere with 2 fire trucks.” You tell her and she tilts her head.

“You’re able to do that?”

“Well, being the chief has some advantages.” You say and she widens her eyes.

“Why are you a stripper if you’re a chief?” She asks and you smile.

“I started out as one to pay the bills while starting out as a firefighter. I do like it, I mean, I don’t have to take off all my clothes, just most of them.” You tell her and she strokes your hair. “So, want that tour now?” You ask her and she nods enthusiastically.

You give her a tour of the station and just as you expected, she’s beaming like a child at a candy store the whole time.

When you’re on the second floor, you see the fire pole and you look at Melissa. “Do you want to slide down the pole?” You ask her and she grins and nods.

“Of course I do, what kind of question is that?” She says and practically bounces over to the pole.

“Wait, you might need this, to have the real experience.” You tell her and take off your helmet. You see her smile get wider while you place the helmet on her.

She goes and slides down the pole and she looks back up at you with a big smile when she lands. “You coming down too hon?” She asks you and you nod.

“Yep!” You tell her and slide down the pole. Melissa watches you slide down and she can’t help but feel how lucky she is. She’s attracted to you, and not just because you’re a firefighter.

Once you slide down, you then get an idea. You pull your phone out, and you set it down on a table nearby and hit play on a song. The song fills the room and you start dancing with the pole and you watch as Melissa just stares at you like she did during the private dance.

You had your back on the pole, with your right hand holding it from behind and slid down the pole while looking at her. You see something in her eyes change and she starts walking towards you and puts her hands on your waist.

“Can I help you?” You ask her with a smile.

“You are wearing far too many clothes for my liking.” She tells you and reaches for the zipper of your jacket. She looks at you and you nod. She then slowly unzips and realises you’re not wearing a shirt underneath and smirks. “I see you dressed for the occasion, or should I say, not dressed.” She tells you as she takes the jacket off of you.

She sees you standing there with the pants, suspenders and a fire red bra on and she smiles. “See something you like?” You ask her and she nods. You then lean forward and kiss her for the first time, and definitely not the last time.

You both pull apart and look at each other and then go back to kissing each other. You put your hands on the back of her head and she moves hers to your back. You pull her closer to you and she ends up gasping into the kiss and you slip your tongue in her mouth.

Melissa moves her hands and slips your suspenders off your shoulders and then unzips your pants and they fall to the ground. You step out of them and Melissa pulls apart to look at your body and she smiles. She sees you standing there in matching fire red lingerie.

“The boots really bring the outfit together.” She teases you and you roll your eyes and smile. You then flip each other so she’s against the pole and you take your boots off.

You then push her up against the pole, put your hand on the pole above her head and lean in close to her face. “Now, what am I gonna do with you?” You ask her in a lower voice and she unconsciously rubs her legs together and you smile.

You go to the hem of her shirt and you look at her and she nods. You pull the shirt off of her and see her in a black lace bra and she looks spectacular.

“Wow.” You say breathy. “How did I get so lucky?” You tell her and she puts a hand on your cheek and you look at her eyes.

“I was thinking the same thing.” She tells you and you lean into her touch. You then take her leggings and heeled boots off and you see she wore matching underwear.

“Want to do it in the back of the fire truck?” You ask her and she nods immediately. You take your clothes to offer padding for the floor of the truck and you walk up to it and open it up for her.

She gets in first and you climb in after her and put the clothes down. You kiss her against the wall of the fire truck and hoist her up and she wraps her legs and arms around you. You kiss each other full of passion and desire and the need for each other right then and there. She unclips your bra and throws it somewhere and you do the same to her. She pulls back and looks at you, full of lust filled eyes and swollen lips.

“Hmm, I’m calling 911 about a fire inside of me that needs to be taken care of.” She tells you and you laugh at her joke and then nod.

“Yes miss.” You tell her. You set her gently on the clothes and climb on top of her and kiss her chest. You put a nipple in your mouth and she gasps and grabs your hair at the back of your head. You swirl your tongue around her nipple and suck on it and you pull the most amazing noises out of her. You move to the other and pull more noises out of her that you absolutely love. You know you can spend hours just pleasing her chest but she’s really turned on right now and you know she wants you inside her right now. You take her underwear after getting confirmation from her and you look at her completely bare beneath you and she looks stunning. You smile and then go back to kissing her lips. You place your hand between her legs and rub her clit. She gasp and moans beneath you and you smile into the kiss. You then pull back and kiss and suck her neck. You slip two fingers in her entrance and you pull the most amazing moan from her.

You pump in and out of her while you continue to kiss and suck her neck. “Omg y/n! Yes! Please, don’t stop!” She yells out and you place your thumb on her clit and she bucks her hips. You place your body more on her to stop her from bucking her hips so much and then pump faster inside her. You have her coming in seconds after rubbing her clit and she comes with a gasp. You don’t stop and her second orgasm is fast approaching. “Y/n! Please, it’s too much!” She yells, very breathy.

“It’s ok, just let go, I got you, take your time.” You tell her and then she comes again. You pull out of her and kiss her lips while she comes down from her high.

When she stopped shaking, she moved her hands to your underwear and slipped them off. She then quickly slipped her fingers in you and you gasped into the kiss. She quickly pumped in and out of you and she moved her other hand to your clit and began to rub it. You were gasping and moaning into the kiss until you come with a moan. She pulls out of you and you both take a minute to catch your breath.

“Wow, that was amazing.” You say through heavy breathes.

“Ya, it was.” She says, agreeing with you.

“So, did I tame your fire?” You ask her and wiggle your eyebrows and she giggles.

“You did, but I might need you on speed dial in case it needs to be taken care of again.” She tells you and you smile.

“Well in exchange, I would like to take you out on a date.” You say to her and she nods her head.

“I like the sound of that, I would love to go out on a date with you.” She says and gives you a kiss. You get up off of her and you both get dressed.

“How does in an hour sound? That’s when my shift ends.” You tell her and she smiles.

“Sounds perfect.” She tells you as you both exit the fire truck.

In an hour, your co workers return along with the 2 fire trucks and they introduce themselves to Melissa. Melissa blushes a bit at all the attention she’s getting from all the firefighters and you wrap your arm around her waist to support her and she smiles at you.

On the date, she asks you something that makes you laugh. “Maybe we should make fire burning our song? Considering it was playing when we first met.”

“We didn’t officially meet until the private dance, but I do like that song.” You tell her and she smiles at you.

Later that night, you go to her place and you push her up against a wall as you both kiss each other. You pull back and you’re both breaking heavily. “Somebody better call 9-1-1, shawty fire burning on the dance floor, woah.” You sing and she giggles.

“Hm, I’m calling 911 right now, I have a fire down below.” She jokes with you. You lift her up and she wraps her arms and legs around you. You make the fire truck noises and she laughs. You spin around to go to the bedroom as she giggles. “Woah.” She says as she wasn’t expecting you to turn around. She then kisses you with a smile as you make it to the bedroom.

Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta

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Let me know if you want to be added!

[thejujvtsupost]

My Clothes Look Good On You

I’m getting back into the swing of writing, so it’s probably not my best work but it’s a start. Smut starts next part.

Lmk if you wanna be added to the taglist 💗

Notes: F!reader, Pro boxer!Toji, light age gap (Toji is early 30's and reader is mid 20's), pet names (angel, baby, sweetheart), reader is smaller than Toji, getting together, reader is a medic/nurse, light violence (boxing injuries)- the usual series notes.

The texts started not even a day after you met Toji.

Usually stuff like ‘You should come to the gym tomorrow, I can show you a few things.’ And ‘You working for my next match? It’d be nice to have a good luck charm.’

You weren’t expecting anything like this from him, you thought giving him your number was for medical advice or something professional. So his flirting and interest in you was a surprise- one that had you blushing, but you didn’t think he was too serious about it.

And to Toji’s credit, he was nothing but sweet and respectful. It didn’t matter how busy his typically packed schedule was, he was always checking on you, trying to learn more about your life.

“Why don’t you come by the gym after your shift? We could get somethin’ to eat.”

‘I can’t 😕 I’m stuck filling out applications. Maybe another day?’

The reminder of your unemployment stressed you out further. It wasn’t his fault, he didn’t know you lost your main job after the match. You told him a lot about the work you did with Shoko, but the few hours you had at the clinic weren’t enough to sustain you and everything was going wrong. Your savings were drying up.

‘Whatcha applyin for?’

‘The usual. I’m running late but I’ll talk to you later!’

You didn’t give any specifics, it was embarrassing enough that you got fired. You managed to get an interview at a different hospital, a welcomed change from the countless application denials.

Honestly, fuck Mother Nature.

The interview didn’t go well at all. You had thought there was hope with this job, but at the end of the interview the boss outright told you that they would be going a different direction. You left quickly after that.

Asshole.

The rejection stung. To add insult to injury, it was absolutely pouring rain. Of course you weren’t prepared, too focused on the interview and your clothes were getting more soaked by the minute.

“Fuck!” Your phone was dead, your wallet at home, failing to notice the essentials were missing while worrying about what questions you might be asked was your own fault. You should have paid better attention.

You took an Uber there, so your only option was to walk home, already out of the way of the train station. Hopefully it wouldn’t be too bad…

The rain was a bitter cold, and your entire body trembled with the pain of the wind whipping against your shaking form not twenty minutes into your trek. The world swallowing you whole would be a blessing.

Or, maybe the real blessing was the gym you recognized up ahead. For the first time in a while, you felt a glimmer of hope.

It would be warm in there, and maybe you could borrow a phone to call a cab. You doubted Toji would still be there, but surely someone was still working out, right? It was worth a shot.

Increasing your pace until the door was at your fingertips, and pulling it open- it was unlocked. You could cry. It was warm, and most of all, dry.

You peeked your head into the main room and saw a few people doing their thing, until your eyes landed on Suguru.

He saw you out of the corner of his eye and smiled, about to welcome you in (under the assumption Toji had invited you) until he saw the state you were in. Shivering, wet and probably bound to get sick.

“What the hell? Don’t tell me you walked here, you should’ve rescheduled or something.” He pulled a few towels out from a large cabinet full of them and offered them to you. “Toji’s not worth getting rained on.”

“Toji’s not what now?” The sight of Toji with his bag on his shoulder to go home made you smile a little through the chatter of your teeth. “Woah what the hell?”

“That’s literally what I said, I can’t believe you didn’t at least send someone to pick her up before you dragged her out like a needy bastard.”

Toji ignored him and took a towel to help get some of the water out of your hair, it was a welcomed gesture. “‘Thought you were workin’ sweetheart, don’t tell me you quit your job to come see me, it’ll go to my head. What were you doing in the rain like that? You’re soaked.”

You knew he was teasing you lightheartedly, but the mention of your job had you nearly tearing up with the stress. “About that…”

Suguru took that as a cue to leave you guys alone, “C’mere, you’re gonna get sick.” A much larger hand took yours and led you to the locker room. “I have some clean clothes in my locker and you can change in the bathroom.”

“Oh I couldn’t-” the protests started as soon as he pressed shorts and a shirt over to you.

“Yes you can, I’ll get a bag for your wet clothes.”

Truly, you were freezing, you hadn’t stopped shivering and you probably wouldn’t any time soon. You sighed in resignation and changed in the aforementioned bathroom, cringing at how huge his clothes were (but enjoying the scent secretly.)

Toji was waiting with a spare jacket you slipped on right away and a plastic bag for your wet clothes, but when he saw you dwarfed by his he laughed. “Holy shit, you’re s’cute. C’mon, you look like you need cheered up. I’ll take you to mine and order takeout. Sound good? Then maybe you can tell me what’s got you down too.”

And you probably shouldn’t go with a man that you hadn’t known for too long, but you were hungry and wearing his clothes and tired, and maybe a little weak to his smile-

“Yeah, okay. I’d like that.” You tried to look grateful, but you couldn’t muster too much emotion other than sad.

Once again a large hand took yours and this time led you to his car in the parking garage.

He waited until you were full and warm with your phone on the charger and the tv low in the background before he started asking questions.

Well, more like he was looking at you with concern and you cracked. “I got fired.”

“What? Today? What happened?” The way he sounded ticked off on your behalf made you feel even warmer. Seriously, you can’t be giving in to his charms, but… he was sweet with you and considerate…

“Three weeks ago… after the fight I ran into my boss. I was wearing clothes with the logo of the clinic I work at with Shoko and moonlighting is against the rules but it’s hard with what I was making at my day job. I needed the money from working a second one and I got caught and the stress is so much to handle I don’t know what I’m gonna do if I can’t find someone hiring!” It all came out of you like word vomit and (more than) a few tears of frustration followed.

“Aw sweets, you should’ve told me you were looking for a job, I could’ve helped. Working that many hours isn’t good for you. But they were dead wrong t’fire you like that.” He wiped your tears and his other hand rubbed yours soothingly and it was nice to be touched gently after several weeks of constant stress.

You sniffled and took in a breath, getting that off your back helped more than you thought it would, Toji’s hulking, kind presence was a balm to a wound. “It’s been a lot to handle, I thought today’s interview was going really well until they rejected me at the end. Didn’t even wait to send me a half assed email, just told me outright. I thought they liked me for the job I don’t know what I said wrong.”

“I don’t know sweetheart, they’re crazy not to hire you. Maybe they were scared of how good your resume looked.” His joke made you let out a giggle and a sigh.

“Thanks for cheering me up, and sorry if you had other plans. It’s Friday night and you’re stuck with me crying on you.”

Toji’s brows furrowed, “Who said I was stuck? The only plan I had was text you enough to bother you and get takeout.”

It was your turn for your brows to furrow “It’s literally Friday night, you weren’t going out?”

Suddenly the floor was super interesting to Toji and he scratched the back of his neck with his free hand before looking at you again.

“I thought I was being pretty obvious about it, but I’m not interested in going out unless it’s what you. ‘Don’t want to rush ya, but I’m kinda trying to win you over here. Y’know? Woo ya, that’s what the kids call it these days I think.” His cheeks were flushed red and it was endearing.

“Woo me, huh? You’re sweet, you know that?” You really didn’t think he was serious before, and now he truly had your heart fluttering.

“So… is it working so far?”

You leaned forward to kiss him softly on the lips, chaste but sweet. “What do you think?”

Toji pulled you in for another kiss, unable to let you go so soon. “Can I take ya on a date?” He pulled away panting.

“I think I can pencil you in.”

That night you slept better than you had in ages. Toji’s bed was comfortable and he was warm, holding you all night. You woke up before him to pee and crawled back in bed, you shouldn’t be acting so boldly, you weren’t even technically together yet. But Toji made it hard to not want to be around him. No one had treated you so sweetly in years.

“Wow, leavin’ me all alone like that. Cruel.” Toji was awake when you came back, evidently.

“My clothes are probably done in the dryer, I should get out of your hair.”

Strong polar bear arms wrapped around you tight, “Nah.”

Your lip lifted in amusement. “Nah?”

“Nah. It’s only four, go back to sleep. Gotta eat breakfast first later anyway. And I was gonna invite ya t’the gym with me, got something to show ya. If you want, at least.” He finally peeked an eye open to check your reaction, not wanting to seem too clingy or pushy.

The way he sounded content to keep you (while not making you feel held hostage) made your heart feel warm and gooey.

“If you’re sure… I don’t wanna interrupt your day.” By now your protest was only half hearted. How could you not want to stay with him?

Toji adjusted the blankets and his arms tightened, slowly pulling you closer to cuddle in case you wanted to pull away from him for personal space. “So sweet. You are my day.” He kissed the top of your head to reassure you that you weren’t a burden.

Unsure what to say to that, you rested your head over his heart and tangled your legs with his— and you think, Is this what people mean when they talk about butterflies in their stomach?

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🏷️: @pelicanpizza @tadabzzzbee

[lady-pug]

Anything For You

Summary: 5 times Crosshair protects you and 1 time you do the same for him.

Pairing: Crosshair x Reader

Word count: 5k

Warnings: canon-typical violence, one dude being kinda creepy at 79's

Notes: Hello hello everyone! It's been a hot minute since this series has seen an update, but after season 3 I had some inspiration (I know it has been a while since season 3 actually come out, but some things had happened that needed my sole attention, I didn’t have the time nor the energy and motivation to write for quite a while). But now I’m back!

I really hope you, dear reader, enjoy this and have fun while reading it. If you spot any mistakes, please feel free to warn me and I'll correct it right away, and feedback is always welcome and appreciated. I hope you truly enjoy this story.

Reader is female, but no physical descriptions provided. Also, when describing the formal attire in topic 3 I tried to keep descriptions to a minimum so you can imagine what the reader is wearing in this scene (I’m a sucker for women in suits, but it’s up to you to imagine)

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1.

The Batch’s mission on Taanab had gone south very quickly. The Separatists had aimed to cut the commercial lines the planet held with Coruscant, which would pose a major problem as it could possibly throw the entire Republic into starvation. So Clone Force 99 had been sent to scout the planet and possibly find Separatists spies stationed there. What they didn’t count on was being ambushed by Norulac pirates almost as soon as they tried to leave the planet.

Tech and Hunter had gone inside a facility suspected of housing the spies they were looking for, while Wrecker kept watch by the entrance, and you and Crosshair covered their shebs from a hill a few klicks away. What you didn’t expect was for Tech to take a major hit as soon as they walked out the door with the spy. In order not to compromise the mission, Wrecker pushed the cuffed nautolan back inside the compound and closed the doors behind them. 

As soon as the first blaster bolt was fired, you leaped to your feet, much to Crosshair’s protests, and started running towards Tech, medkit clutched tightly under your arm. Crosshair, ever the marksman, kept shooting his Firepunch, trying to get rid of as many pirates while you pushed forward. As you approached the place where Tech had gone down you skidded to a halt, keeping your head down as to avoid the blaster fire. Slipping your hand under his armpits you dragged him across the pebbled ground (and mentally apologized for any scratches he might find on his backplate later on), taking cover behind a short wall and starting to patch him up.

What you didn’t notice, however, was the pirate approaching from behind you and Tech while you assessed his injuries, who must have either slipped unnoticed by Wrecker and Hunter or come up all the way from behind the facility. You only seemed to notice him once Tech, coming back to his senses after a stim shot, pointed over your shoulder and told you to look out. By then it was already too late, as the pirate had his vibroblade raised and ready to strike.

As you fumbled with your blaster to at least try and protect the two of you a long blaster bolt came scorching through the air, hitting the man right on his temple and sending him tumbling sideways, dead. You glanced back towards the hill you had just climbed down from, sending a nod in Crosshair’s general direction, knowing he could see you with his scope.

“Thanks for having my back, Cross.” you spoke into your commlink before resuming your work on Tech’s wound, barely catching Crosshair’s reply.

“Anything for you, Copikla.” he mumbled, going back to firing his rifle in order to help his brothers take out the remaining pirates.

2.

The woman was definitely moving too fast for someone who allegedly had nothing to hide. And Clone Force 99 was hellsbent (more like ordered to) figure out why.

Your current mission, issued by Commander Fox of all people, albeit a stealth mission of sorts, wasn’t like anything you had ever done before. A Gran representative of Malastare, acting as a temporary substitute for Senator Ainlee Teem while the senator went back to his home planet to help calm the nerves and appease the public opinion of the citizens of Malastare about the rampage caused by the Zillo Beast, was suspected to be working for the Separatists. Afraid that an investigation lead directly by the Coruscant Guard would be too on the nose and she might try to cover her tracks, Commander Fox had surprisingly, as him and the Batch often didn't see eye to eye, requested that the Bad Batch be the ones to follow her around and figure out her intentions.

So here you and Crosshair were, following the woman a few paces behind her all throughout Coruscant busy streets. The plan of action had been to split up, Hunter and Wrecker taking the two parallel streets to the one where the woman was currently speed-walking while you and Crosshair followed behind her. Tech had stayed behind at the Guard’s headquarters, tracking the woman’s movements using the surveillance system. 

As the teams were being separated Crosshair had demanded that you go with him (although ‘demand’ might be too strong of a word, as he knew Hunter, as his commanding officer, could very well tell him to shut up and take a step back, which he thankfully didn’t), internally reasoning with himself that you could very well get lost and compromise the mission, even though the knowing smirk the Sergeant had sent his way after agreeing with his suggestion told him he might have other reasons. And now he was glad he insisted on that.

As dusk fell over the city and rush hour approached, more and more people filled the streets eager to head home. This didn’t pose a problem for Crosshair as his height, greater than that of the regs (and quite greater than Hunter’s, as he often liked to tease his vod about) paired with his extraordinary eyesight allowed him to keep his eyes on the Gran woman at all times. You on the other hand weren’t so lucky, as people bumped into you and tried to squeeze their way past the both of you. Concerned you’d slip away, dragged by the sea of people, he snaked his arm around your waist, his hand lazily draped over your hip, keeping you close to his side and not letting you venture away from him.

You looked up at him, a tiny grin gracing your features.

“Thanks Cross.”

The only response you got was his grip on your hip. tightening almost imperceptibly.

3. 

“I don’t like it.” 

Hunter sighed for the umpteenth time in the past hour.

“I already told you, these are our orders.” he turned towards his brother, who scowled in return.

“Why can’t one of us go in?”

“As a matter of fact, that option has been brought up to Commander Cody,” Tech chimed in, not once taking his eyes off his holopad “but he has reminded us of a crucial fact: no matter how much our phenotype might differ from that of the regs, we’re still clones. If a single slightly more enlightened individual in that ballroom catches sight of our resemblance to our mandalorian progenitor, the mission would be compromised.”

Crosshair huffed, still not convinced.

“But why does it have to be her?” he argued “Why couldn’t they have brought another natborn specialist? Or, kriff, even a senator? Senators are good at these sorts of events.”

“Senators are public figures, they would be recognized in an instant.” Hunter promptly answered “And all other female natborns were unavailable.”

“And the Seppie likes pretty women!” Wrecker laughed “I mean who doesn’t? I’m sure none of us would be able to seduce him!”

“I still don’t like it.” unsatisfied, Crosshair picked up his Firepuncher to check the scope, even though he knew for a fact it was pristine as always. 

A beneficent gala was being held by the InterGalactic Banking Clan to members of the Confederacy of Independent Systems council in Cantonica. One Separatist senator, a sleazy old quacta of a man, was rumored to have information on the next course of action regarding a siege against Republic forces in Ansion. So, given the sensitivity of the mission ahead, Clone Force 99 was called in. However, none of them could go in without the risk of being recognized as members of the GAR, so they had to send in-

“How do I look?” he was buried so deep in his own thoughts he didn’t even hear the door to the fresher opening and you stepping out into the hull of the ship. As he looked up to glance at you, he thanked the maker he was already sitting down, otherwise his knees would have buckled and he would have been sent tumbling down.

You looked gorgeous. 

Your hair was styled in a completely different style than you normally wore it, a few delicate pins adorning it. Some light makeup covered your face, accentuating your natural beauty. And your outfit… Crosshair had only seen you in your uniform and armor in the battlefield, or in your GAR-issued blacks around the ship. He had never seen you wearing anything like this, so formal and fitting for your exact frame.

He couldn’t even speak. He just kept staring at you, his eyes moving up and down your frame.

“You look beautiful, baar’ur’ika!” Wrecker’s booming voice brought him out of his stupor, as he shook his head.

“You really think so?” you asked, feeling a little shy “I never usually wear something so nice, this is a bit out of my comfort zone.”

“You look amazing Doc.” Hunter chimed in, nudging his brother with his elbow, his lips pulled in a knowing smirk “Doesn’t she, Crosshair?”

He was still collecting his thoughts when you turned to face him, eyes gleaming with… hope? 

“Yeah,” he dared answer “yes, she does.”

You beamed at him, smiling so brightly he felt his heart skip a beat for being the reason for your happiness. He wasn’t even bothered when he heard Hunter chuckling under his breath, no doubt catching on his vod’s reaction to your presence. 

As your squad started diskimbarking to start the mission, Crosshair reached out to hold you in place, his fingers gently encircling your wrist, leaving just the two of you still on the ship.

“If-” he swallowed thickly, not knowing how to say what he was thinking. 

“What is it, Cross?” you turned towards him, giving him your full attention.

“I’ll be keeping watch on the roof the entire time.” he breathed out “If anything happens, if at any moment you feel like you might be in danger, comm me. I’ll find a way to get you out, Copikla.”

You smiled softly at him, turning your palm up and intertwining your fingers.

“I’ll be fine, Cross. Really. You don’t have to worry about me.” Impossible, he thought, and as if reading his mind you squeezed his hand gently “But thank you for keeping an eye out for me.”

He squeezed your hand back, lips turning up in the tiniest of smiles.

And if at a certain point during the gala, a glass of wine carefully balanced on a tray on a waiters hand spontaneously exploded, startling the waiter and making him drop the entire contents of the tray over the separatist senator as he started getting handsy with you, Hunter’s scolding for nearly compromising the mission was definitely worth it as you giggled at his antics behind the sergeants back.

4.

79’s was certainly more packed than usual for a standard Taungsday. It seemed like most battalions were on leave at once, hence the more chaotic atmosphere and the crowd forming around the bar. 

It had been forever since Clone Force 99 had shore leave scheduled on Coruscant instead of being called back to Kamino, so you intended to make the most of it. Wrecker was already a few drinks in, arm wrestling some of the boys of the 212th; Echo was catching up with some of the boys in blue, having spend so much time away from his old battalion; Tech had already gone back to the barracks to read some articles on his holopad, the weird neon green cocktail he had order right at the beginning of the night only half empty and long forgotten; and Hunter had already scurried off with a gorgeous orange Twi’lek. 

Only you and Crosshair remained at the table, chatting idly, your thigh pressed against the side of his and his arm slung over the back of the seat behind you. Your heads were tilted close together in order to hear each other over the beat of the music in the club. For a moment Crosshair thought it felt weirdly… intimate, even though you weren’t actually doing anything. He’d never been this close to anyone, where he felt he could just let himself be. It was nice.

“I’m going to get another drink.” you whispered-yelled at him at one point, gesturing at his own cup “Want anything?”

He pondered for a moment, before declining with a shake of his head.

“Someone has to keep a clear head in order to babysit the lot of you.” he motioned to where Wrecker, clearly a little more than tipsy, was celebrating another victory over a shiny.

You snorted, before quickly turning around and walking towards the bar. He couldn’t help but silently watch over you, always keeping you in his line of sight.

It had become second nature to him, watching you. At first he tried to argue that it was only to ensure you didn’t do anything stupid and risk one of his brothers, but it slowly ended up becoming something he just did naturally. He wanted, no, needed, to ensure you were safe at all times, and not just on the battlefield.

As he watched you lean over the bar and signal the bartender, your back turned to him, he noticed a devarionian man quickly glance over at you from a few seats away. For a few moments nothing happened, he kept his eyes trained on you, occasionally catching sight of the devarionian from the corner of his eye. 

And then the guy was moving.

He slid up next to you, standing way too close for your (and Crosshair’s comfort). The mirror above the shelfs in the bar let him see your face,  and you did not seem too happy with your new company. At first you tried ignoring the man, he noticed, giving him very clipped answers and only nodding along. The guy, it seemed, couldn’t seem to take a hint, as he kept rambling on and on about something the sniper couldn’t bother reading his lips for. And the moment his hand brushed against your arm, startling you and prompting you to take a step away from the man with ‘uncomfortable’ and ‘creeped out’ written all over your face, Crosshair was out of his seat and crossing the dancefloor towards you in quick strides.

Once he approached the pair of you, you noticed him over the man’s shoulder, your face relaxing slightly at the sight of him.

“Is everything all right?” he asked, to which the devarionian turned to him seemingly undisturbed. 

“Yeah, me and the lady over here were having a wonderful chat.” the devarionian dismissed him “ Now if you’ll excuse us.” 

Crosshair knew he was tall. He, along with Tech, was the second tallest amongst all clones, shorter only than Wrecker. It wasn’t something he usually cared for, unless when he got to tease Hunter about his own height, which was shorter than the regs, but he knew for a fact he was taller than most people. So he decided to use this to his advantage. As his face contorted into the deepest scowl he could muster, he crossed his arms over his chest, squaring his shoulders. This meant he was absolutely towering over the man. He didn’t even have to say anything and the devarionian was already cowering.

“A-actually, I think my buddy over there is calling me over.” and he rushed off without even looking at you again.

You looked at Crosshair as he relaxed, a mixture of gratitude and a sense of residual unease written in your face.

“Thanks Cross,” you started “but I could’ve handled him. You know I can take care of myself.” 

“Trust me, Copikla, I know.” he shrugged “But you shouldn’t have to.” 

Your face softened at his words, and you leaned your head against his arm. 

“Thank you anyway.” 

His response came in the form of a wordless hum, but which carried a whole lot of meaning to it.

‘Always’.

5.

Crosshair absolutely hated keeping watch. He would take Wrecker’s snoring and Tech’s endless tinkering over this any day. They were in hyperspace, for maker’s sake! What threat could be so dire that one of them had to stay awake and alert for hours, freezing cold as Tech refused to fix the cockpit’s heating system?

But Hunter insisted. And as their sergeant, Hunter was in charge and whatever he said goes. And so here Crosshair was, watching nothing go by bored out of his mind.

All of a sudden he heard the soft pattern of bare feet against the cold floor of the Marauder, approaching the cockpit. It couldn’t possibly be Wrecker, he could still hear his snoring from all the away from the bunks. It wasn’t Echo either, as the clanking of his mechanical legs against the durasteel floor would have given him away. It probably wasn’t Hunter, as the man was an incredibly deep sleeper, his slumber being one of the only one moments his heightened senses gave him a break. And Tech wasn’t supposed to come relieve him from watch duty for at least three more hours or so. So that left only you.

Because of this line of thought he was unsurprised when you joined him in the cockpit, dropping onto the co-pilot seat next to him.

For a moment neither of you uttered a word. He stayed silent as he took you in, noticing the way your shoulders trembled slightly and the soft sniffles you were trying to contain.

“What’s wrong?” he asked at last.

You startled, as if only now noticing his presence next to you. Once you calmed down you simply shrugged in response.

“Nightmare, ‘s all.” your voice wavered a tiny bit, but it was enough for him to notice.

Silence permeated the room once more as he thought about the situation. You clearly seemed shaken by whatever was plaguing your mind when sleeping, yet he didn’t really know how to help. He wasn’t the best with words, Hunter and even Wrecker were way better than him when it came to comforting people.

But then he paused. Thinking about Hunter reminded him of something his older brother would do whenever one of them had nightmares as cadets.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

As a kid Crosshair never took Hunter up on his offer to listen, but he would still sit with him in silence and let him wind down after the dream. Wrecker on the other hand often rambled about what had scared him and Hunter always found a solution for him. Tech often kept to himself, never mentioning when he had nightmares of his own, but he knew Hunter had his back should he ever wish to talk.

You chuckled, though it was humorless and heavy.

“You know I have worked with other clones, right?” he nodded, remembering the medical base you used to work at before joining Clone Force 99 as their field medic “I had a lot of patients there. Most we were able to treat, but… we lost a lot of them as well.” 

He could only imagine the kind of toll that took on someone.

“And it’s like they weren’t even people!” you whispered, frustrated tears collecting in your eyes “There wasn’t any family we could contact to deliver the bad news, at best one of his batchmates or another brother from the same battalion. But in the end it was just… crossing numbers out of a spreadsheet.” 

You took a deep breath in order to collect your thoughts.

“I see them when I fall asleep sometimes.” you smiled, but it was a sad smile, one that Crosshair didn’t think suited you at all “The ones I could save.” 

Crosshair didn’t know what to say to that. How much death had you witnessed before you met the Bad Batch? Before you met him? You had your own demons haunting you, and it served to show him that them, the soldiers fighting this war, weren’t the only ones affected by it.

“Come here.” he extended a hand to you.

“What?” you looked at him, confused.

He repeated himself, and when you stood up and stopped in front of him he gently grabbed your wrist and pulled you onto his lap, maneuvering you so your head was resting against his shoulder, your ear right above his heart.

“It’s not your fault.” he spoke into your hair “You cannot save everyone. All you can do is try.”

“What happens if I’m not able to save one of you?” he heard the terror in your voice and he couldn’t stand it.

“I won’t let that happen.”

“Cross…”

“I won’t.” he affirmed firmly “I watch over you so you can watch over us. Always.”

He could feel the tension in your body vanishing, as a comforting silence enveloped the both of you. Slowly, as your breathing slowed down and you fell back asleep, he tightened his grip on you, keeping you close to him. And you slept soundly and peacefully through the night, with Crosshair keeping guard of your dreams. 

+1 

Another mission, another success. Clone Force 99 was ordered to infiltrate a Separatist base on Agamar and retrieve some sensitive information regarding the former Separatist rule over Onderon. The mission was easy (at least by the Bad Batch’s standards) and Wrecker was overjoyed over getting to blow a droid tank up. But it was time to head back to Kamino, resupply and wait for new orders.

Wrecker practically barged out of the ship as soon as the Havoc Marauder touched the hangar on Tipoca City, claiming to be starving even though he had eaten not even an hour before. Tech, Echo and you followed him to the mess hall, and Hunter headed to the commander’s office to submit the several missions’ reports he was due, promising to join the four of you later. Similarly, Crosshair mentioned stopping by the armory to grab some more reflective disks as he was running out, shooting a wink your way as you promised to save him a seat next to you on the squad’s usual table.

On the way back to their quarters following his visit to the armory Crosshair bumped into Hunter and after a few words both decided to stop by their quarters in order to leave their equipment before heading to the mess hall to meet the others. As they wandered the sterile halls of the kaminoan facility, however, an incoming transmission from Hunter’s comm made them stop short.

“Hunter, where are you?” Tech’s usually calm and collected voice came through sounding a bit… panicky. Strange, Crosshair’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked at his brother; Tech didn’t panic.

“Crosshair and I are on our way to our quarters, why?”

“You might want to make a detour to the medbay.” Echo’s voice came in as well. “A fight broke out in the mess hall.”

Hunter pinched his nose as Crosshair sighed in annoyance. Typical. They’ve been back on Kamino for less than a standard hour and they were already in trouble.

“What did Wrecker get up to this time?” Crosshair spoke into his brother’s comm.

Echo and Tech paused, the silence on their end stretching for a moment.

“It wasn’t Wrecker.” Tech answered.

“This time.” Echo chimed in.

A distant ‘Hey!’ was heard as Hunter and Crosshair exchanged a confused yet concerned glance before rushing through the halls. Tech and Echo were waiting for them before the closed doors that lead to the medbay.

“What happened?” Hunter asked, his tone laced with tiredness, clearly fed up with his brothers’ antics. 

But before either of them could respond a pair of troopers, regs by the looks of it, walked out the doors. And they couldn’t look worse for wear; one of them had a busted lip and the other was sporting a broken nose, two large bruises already starting to climb up towards his eyes.

“Oh, look, the rest of the anomalies are here.” the one with the cut lip snickered, grimacing as the action pulled against the wound.

“How about you control your little shabuir next time, eh?” the other scoffed as they walked away “Crazy shebs medic and the genetic freaks, it’s like they were made for each other.”

As soon as the word ‘medic’ crossed the reg’s lips Crosshair was moving, busting through the doors of the medbay. What he saw made his heart clench with worry; you were sitting on a cot, holding Wrecker’s hand rather tightly as a medical droid worked on your face. Crosshair could see some caked blood on your hair as the droid cleaned the side of your forehead where it had dripped down. As the droid went over where the cut must have been you winced, to which Wrecker rubbed up and down your back.

“There, baar’ur’ika. It’s all better now.” Wrecker whispered, or at least tried to.

“Thanks, Wreck.” you smiled up at him “I’m just not used to being on the receiving end of medical care, that’s all. I’m always the one cleaning up your cuts, not the other way around.”

Crosshair was so engrossed in watching the exchange he barely heard his brothers follow him into the medbay.

“Some regs started provoking us as we were walking to our table in the mess hall.” Tech explained “She started getting agitated but we told her to just ignore it. But then… a pair of regs said something under their breaths only she could hear, and she…”

“She went ballistic.” Echo completed for Tech, who looked unsettled for once “It looked like she was out for their heads. So much so that Wrecker had to step in.”

Crosshair heard Hunter sigh behind him.

“Command is not gonna be happy with him for getting into a fight. Again.”

“Oh no,” Tech corrected “Wrecker intervened in order to pry her away from the regs. The two troopers who just walked out? That was all her doing.”

A strange sense of pride bloomed inside Crosshair’s chest and started crawling up his throat, his lips threatening to curl into a small smile. Not only were you always looking out for them on the battlefield, but also outside of it? The trust he had been building over time seemed to solidify at that very moment.

As the droid finished wrapping your injury and walked away, Wrecker finally seemed to notice them. 

“Look! Crosshair and Hunter are here!”

As your eyes finally found his, you seemed to light up entirely, akin to a little kid on Life Day.

“Come on, Wrecker, let’s get you some food.” Hunter called, a barely contained sigh escaping from his lips “From what I hear you didn’t get a chance to eat yet. And I have to go back to Command and report this incident.”

Your smile turned sheepish and Crosshair couldn’t tell if you were embarrassed over the slight reprimanding tone in the sergeant’s voice or because your shenanigans had caused everyone to miss dinner so far.

As the other’s left, he sat down on the foot of your cot next to your legs, his long fingers wrapping around your ankle.

“So” he drawled out, a small smirk pulling at his lips “I hear you got yourself in trouble?”

You chuckled, to which he squeezed your ankle playfully in return.

“Yeah, I guess your affinity for trouble is rubbing off on me.”

“I mean, you were assigned to us after all, you obviously aren’t the little angel Commander Cody made you out to be.” he joked, before letting his curiosity get the better of him “What did they say anyway to make you snap like that?”

He noticed the very moment your face fell, your smile slipping off your face and your eyes turning slightly dull.

“Oh, Cross.” there was something so sad in the way you said his name that he never wanted to hear again, even if it meant he never got to hear his name fall from your lips for the rest of his life “They were so vile. First they started talking about Tech, Wrecker and Echo and they just told me to ignore it, but then…” a very soft, almost unnoticeable sheen of tears brimmed in your eyes “They started talking about you, Cross.”

The grip he had on your leg grew even tighter as he physically recoiled, taken aback.

“They started saying these awful things about you and you weren’t even there.” you stammered “They were being cruel and mean to you behind your back and I couldn’t let that slide. I just remembered what you once told me, about how the regs treated you as cadets and I just… saw red. I didn’t even think, I just acted.”

Crosshair felt his heart skip a beat. You, their sweet medic, got into a physical altercation… because of him? Because you felt the need to protect not only him, but his vode as well? You, who baked cookies and was nice to him even when he pushed you away and insulted you, broke a soldier’s nose… for him?

“I-I’m sorry.” you sighed “I know I shouldn’t have, but-”

“Would you do it again?”

Now was your turn to be taken aback.

“What?”

“If a bunch of regs ever insulted me or my brothers again,” he said slowly, the words feeling heavy on his tongue “would you defend us again, even if it meant getting hurt?”

Your lips curled up in a gentle smile, one he came to realize was reserved for him and him alone.

“I’d do anything for you, Crosshair.”

In a moment he was by your side, not even realizing he was moving. He sat on the bed by your side as you scooted over, making space for him, and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. His lips pressed softly on the hair on the crown of your head as he spoke.

“I won’t let you get hurt, Copikla.” he whispered, the most vulnerable he had ever been “Not on my watch, you’re never getting hurt again.”

He sighed contently as you relaxed by his side, laying your head on his shoulder.

“I promise.”