#this is reminding me i need to get my eyes check

[roosterforme]

Wild Rooster Chase | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley thinks about you more than he should, and his feelings for you run deeper than they ought to. You've never given him an indication that you want to take the teasing touches and playful flirtation to the next level, so he never pressed his luck. When you surprise him by sending a text message that could change everything, he's ready to chase you all over San Diego for some answers.

Warnings: adult language, fluff, angst, drinking

Length: 5700 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Banner by @thedroneranger

"What are you ladies doing here?" Bradley asked as you walked in with Halo and Phoenix on either side of you. "Thought tonight was the bachelorette party?"

"The Hard Deck is our first stop of the evening," you informed him as you planted your palm on his chest with a smirk, and he let you push him away from the bar. "We couldn't miss out on letting you guys see how nicely we clean up."

"Oh yeah?" he asked, as if he wasn't actively ogling you in your mini dress and high heels. He'd never been one to hide it, and he'd never been one to check out the other two, either. But that didn't mean he was going to act on it, because he was absolutely convinced this was just a game for you. One that he loved participating in. One that he knew was never going to go anywhere real.

"Yeah," you verified with a laugh. "We look hot."

"An indisputable fact," he whispered as he pretended like you were actually pushing him further out of your way. He'd move wherever you wanted him to, as long as you just kept touching him.

"Shoo," you scolded, looking up at him as your knee bumped his leg. "I need to buy some drinks, and you're in my way."

He covered your hand with his big one and immediately stopped moving. "Nice try, Blaze," he said with a grin as you attempted and failed to get him to budge more. "But I'm definitely buying you all a round for Callie's big night." He tossed his credit card onto the bar and draped one arm around Halo and the other around you before leaning in close to you and whispering, "And you always look nice. Even in your flight suits."

"What can I get for you ladies? And Rooster?" Penny asked, cutting him off just as he had you rolling your eyes. "Wait... he's not going out for Halo's bachelorette night, is he?"

"Absolutely not," you told her, tilting your head to look up at him with a devilish grin that made him a little nervous. His arm was still heavy across your shoulders as you said, "He's just here to buy us three Johnnie Walkers. Blue Label. Neat." 

"What?" His voice was strangled, and his eyes were wide. "That's over a hundred bucks!"

"But it's what we want. Isn't it, ladies?" you asked Halo and Phoenix as you tried not to laugh.

"It is," Halo confirmed. "And I'm the one getting married next weekend." 

When Bradley moaned and nodded at Penny, you gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Thanks, Rooster. You're the sweetest."

"You mean I'm a sucker," he said, finally releasing both of you. "So where are you headed after this?"

Halo accepted her expensive Scotch as she said, "Cowboy Star for a steak dinner."

Bradley snorted. "Don't forget to take Jake with you," he said, nodding to where the other guys were hanging out near the dart board. 

"No boys allowed," you reminded him. "Especially not since we're taking Halo to Cheetahs after dinner."

"Strippers?" he asked as you picked up your Johnnie Walker. "Looking at hot, naked chicks? Sounds fun. What else?"

"Dancing at Pleasure Town!" Phoenix said, taking the last Scotch and holding it up. You and Halo both tapped your glasses to hers.

"Thanks, Rooster!" you said before taking a sip. He just shook his head as you pressed your lips to the glass, but a few seconds later, he ran his index finger along your arm and leaned a little closer again.

"Hey, you call or text me if you need anything, okay? I'll keep my phone on all night for you girls."

A chill seemed to run through your body, and just the mere thought of you calling him in the middle of the night left his mouth dry with need.

You chewed on your lip and looked up at him. "I'll let you know if I need you."

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

I'll let you know if I need you.

Bradley couldn't stop thinking about that sentence. If you ever told him you needed or even wanted him for anything, he'd be there instantly. He wasn't afraid to admit to himself that he'd had a crush on you from the first day you arrived at Top Gun. He was sure you knew it, too. But there were some things he just didn't want to mess with. Your call sign was Blaze for a reason, after all. Too fucking hot to handle. Too damn enticing to be interested in him.

So he did what he always did on Saturday nights. Found the second cutest girl at the bar and tried his luck. 

It was two hours later and three drinks in with the redhead, and he knew he could probably get as lucky as he wanted to. Her hand was on his thigh, inching closer to the hem of his tropical print shirt, and she was all smiles.

"Let's play something on the jukebox," she told him, and he agreed as he followed after her. To his dismay, she picked your favorite song, and now he was having a bit of a hard time staying focused on the task at hand as she tucked herself against the wall and pulled him closer by his shirt.

"You like this song?" he asked, glancing at the jukebox like he expected you to be standing there. 

She shrugged and said, "Not really. I just pushed some random buttons," with a little giggle. "Now, come here."

Alright, so her lips were soft, and her tongue tasted like bourbon. She placed his hands on her hips, and he gave a little test squeeze which resulted in her tongue in his mouth. But the song was pulling up some other memories of you and him dancing together on New Year's Eve. When he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, it was almost a relief to pull away.

"Hey," she complained, reaching for him as he unlocked his phone. "I'm over here, Rooster."

"Sorry," he muttered, looking at her briefly, but he really wasn't. The text he got was from you. He held up one finger and took a step back as he opened it up. 

Blaze: Full disclosure, I'm drunk. And I'll probably regret this in the morning, but... I think about kissing you all the time.

"What the fuck?" Bradley said out loud as his eyes scanned the message again. It was a joke. It had to be. Or else he was reading it wrong? "Holy shit."

When he finally looked up, the redhead was pouting with her arms crossed. He needed another opinion, and he'd already lost interest in her anyway. He held up his phone and asked, "What does this mean?"

He watched her eyes as she read it, and a little crease appeared on her forehead. "It says get a life, jerk." She went walking off toward her friends as Bradley looked around for someone else to help him out. The guys were all playing pool and darts, but he didn't trust them as far as he could throw them anyway.

"Hey, Penny," he called out, cutting off several people who were trying to order drinks. He leaned all the way across the bar top to where she was pouring a martini. "Tell me I'm not losing my mind."

When he held up his phone, she squinted at the screen, and then her eyes went wide as she smiled at him. "I think someone overdid it and finally stated the obvious."

He was sweating now, afraid he was going to get this all wrong. "Like you think this is actually how she feels?"

She laughed and handed off the martini before pouring some wine. "Well, I don't want to speculate on someone else's behalf..."

"Bartenders are supposed to speculate," he told her, ready to climb over the bar and chase her down as she turned away from him to serve the wine. "It's your god given obligation."

She glanced at him over her shoulder. "Well, then, merely speculating, I would say that the way the two of you cozy up with each other seems a little more than platonic."

He shook his head. "No, that's probably just me you're reading in the scenario." But she was shaking her head back and forth as well. "It's her, too?" Now she was nodding as she reached for a pint glass. "Like she might actually want to make something happen here?"

"Speculation," Penny told him. "But I think you should find out for sure."

He could call you. He pushed himself away from the bar, found a nice, quieter corner, and he tapped your number in his phone.

'Hi, it's me. I can't answer my phone, probably because I'm flying a seventy million dollar aircraft at the moment. Leave a message.'

"Damn it," he groaned, already thinking about how nice it would be to sling his arm around your shoulders and lean all the way in next time. Let his lips meet yours instead of hitting the brakes like he'd trained himself to do. "Wait!" he said to nobody in particular now that he'd walked away from Penny. "Cowboy Star!"

Bradley had the fortitude to keep his phone out and use the rideshare app he had downloaded. He was definitely not sober enough to do this in the Bronco, and he couldn't stop fantasizing about your song playing on the jukebox while he had your body pressed up against the wall. He needed to get to you and get some questions answered. 

He chose the closest driver in the app, and while he was waiting for Julian in his white Toyota Camry to arrive, he read your text again.

Blaze: Full disclosure, I'm drunk. And I'll probably regret this in the morning, but... I think about kissing you all the time.

"Is she so serious right now?" he asked the night air as he wanted in the parking lot. "Is she so fucking serious about this? I think about it, too!  A lot!" he practically shouted as he responded to your text.

Blaze, call me back. Are you talking about a kiss on the cheek? Or something more? We need to discuss ASAP.

"Hey, are you Bradley?"

He looked up to see the white Toyota was just sitting there. You had his head so messed up at the moment, he hadn't even noticed it.

"Julian?"

"Yeah, man," the driver replied, and Bradley quickly climbed in the backseat. "You're heading to Cowboy Star?"

"Yeah," he grunted as he buckled his seatbelt.

"I love it there," he said as he pulled out onto the road that ran parallel to the beach. "My wife got me the porterhouse for my birthday."

Bradley stared at his phone screen, hoping you'd write back or call him. "I'm not actually going for dinner. I'm trying to find a girl."

Julian whistled and shook his head. "Man, you should have just stayed at that bar."

He tipped his head back and groaned. "It's a very specific girl. And she's out with some friends for a bachelorette party."

"You know dudes aren't really supposed to go to those things, right?"

Bradley rubbed his free hand across his face and said, "I know, but she sent me this text that is very thought provoking." 

"What's it say?"

He kind of felt like an idiot telling his story to his Uber driver, but he still wasn't sure he was understanding your words correctly. It just didn't make sense. 

"Julian, I am very firmly in the friend zone with this hot girl from work, and tonight she sent me this message: Full disclosure, I'm drunk. And I'll probably regret this in the morning, but... I think about kissing you all the time."

"Bro," Julian said as he hit the accelerator a little harder. "You're so in, man."

"Am I?" Bradley asked, squeezing his phone and wondering why you weren't calling him back. "Like, this girl is smoking hot. She's cool as hell, too. And we flirt a bit, but it never goes anywhere. And now she's not answering me."

"Just hang on." Julian went a little faster still. "I'll get you there so you can sweep her off her feet."

Bradley hung onto the door handle, not even sure he knew how to sweep you off your feet. What kinds of guys did you usually go for? He'd be lying if he said he never noticed that your last boyfriend kind of looked like him. And in general, you seemed to have a thing for guys with brown hair who were pretty tall. 

"Shit," he grunted, just torturing himself by imagining he could be the one holding your hand and making you laugh. "Are we almost there?"

"Hell yeah, dude. Next block up."

When Julian stopped at to the curb, Bradley lunged out onto the sidewalk as he shouted, "Thank you!"

"Good luck!"

The restaurant was absolutely packed, and even the line to talk to the host was long. After a few seconds, he simply walked to the front and cut everyone else off.

"Hey!" complained the woman who was now behind him as he cleared his throat and addressed the host. 

"Excuse me, but do you know if there are still three hot women here eating dinner together?" he asked the host who gave him a bland look. "They were all in tight little dresses. One was red, one was blue, and one was like a gold color. And one of them was wearing a bachelorette sash!"

"Oh," he replied with a little smirk. "Those three." Bradley didn't appreciate the way his little grin grew as he said, "Hot is certainly the right word to describe them."

"Are they still here?" he asked impatiently, trying to look past him into the dining room now.

"No. They left about an hour ago."

"Fuck," he groaned, pushing away from the podium and storming back outside into the night. He found a spot on the busy sidewalk where he could stand, and he tried to call you again. 

'Hi, it's me. I can't answer my phone, because I'm probably flying a seventy million dollar aircraft at the moment. Leave a message.'

He wanted to scream, but he calmly said, "Blaze, it's Rooster. Call me back." When he hung up, he opened the rideshare app again, and he luckily saw Julian on the map immediately and tapped on his little icon. "Come on, Julian," he muttered, already looking down the street for the trusty Toyota to make its return. "Yes!"

Bradley threw himself into the backseat once again as the driver asked, "That was quick, bro. What happened?"

"They already left for the strip club," he groaned.

"Cheetahs?" Julian asked, tapping at his own phone before he started driving again. "Not gonna pretend I've never been there before."

Bradley tried to call you again, and once again he got to hear your voice tell him you weren't available. "I just don't understand why she's telling me this now, you know? I've known her for almost two years."

"Two years in the friend zone? Bro, do you have no game?"

"Julian, do not test me right now," Bradley said with a laugh. He held up his thumb and index finger and added, "I was this close to sealing the deal with another girl at the Hard Deck when I got the text from her."

"Ohhhh. So you're in love with her. Understood, my man."

Bradley sat back against the seat and stared out the window as the city lights streaked past. In love. Was he? You always seemed too perfect to get involved with. But love? Is that why he never pushed for more? 

"Damn," he muttered. "Maybe." Was the fear of crashing and burning what was ultimately holding him back? 

That was when Julian pulled a slick u-turn and coasted into the parking lot of Cheetahs which was advertising fully nude girls. He should have been concerned that suddenly the only girl he wanted to see that way was you. "Thanks, Julian," he said as he hopped out and slammed the door closed.

"You got this!"

Well at least Julian thought he could pull off something impossible tonight.

"Whoa, I'm going to need to see some ID." 

Bradley realized that his path was suddenly blocked by an absolutely massive bouncer with a bushy beard. 

"Come on," he complained, digging his wallet out of his back pocket. "I'm thirty-five."

"No ID, no entrance."

"Yeah, yeah. Understood," he said trying to get his driver's license free as one of the strippers walked outside for a break. He craned his neck to see through the open door as the loud music filtered out before the door closed.

"Hey, Cherry," the bouncer grunted, and Bradley looked down at the stripper who was leaning against the wall wearing a pink wig, the tiniest g-string and some pasties. 

She was looking at Bradley a little skeptically as she replied, "Hey, Murph." She kicked a rock out into the parking lot as she told Bradley, "You're getting here awfully late. All of the private rooms have been reserved for the rest of the night."

"I'm not here for that. I'm just looking for some girls," he replied, waiting patiently while Murph inspected his ID.

"Yeah," she said with a laugh. "We've got plenty of those. The hottest ones in San Diego, if you believe the neon sign above your head."

"No," he told her, really not in the mood to recount his story again. "I'm looking for some women I work with."

Now Cherry looked downright unconvinced as she asked, "Are you a stripper?"

Bradley accepted his driver's license back and gave Cherry a hesitant look. "Well, no, I'm not."

"Didn't think so," she muttered, and Bradley stopped in his tracks before he even reached for the door handle.

"Excuse me?" he asked, giving her a much more scathing look. "What's that supposed to mean? I'd be a fantastic stripper."

She shook her head and adjusted her tiny underwear. "You don't have the right build for it."

Bradley burst out into sardonic laughter. "Cherry, you must be joking," he said as he tucked his wallet away and flexed his biceps. "I could totally be a stripper."

"What song would you dance to?" she asked in an accusatory tone. 

"Sweet Emotion," he told her immediately. Yeah, he'd thought about it before, and yeah, he knew he'd absolutely kill it up on stage. But she just made a face in response. "What's wrong with my song?"

"Nothing, I guess, but there's no way you'd be raking in the tip money."

Bradley pointed across the parking lot to Hard D Boys, the male club that was associated with Cheetahs, and said, "Just for that, I'm coming back for their open auditions night, because you have no idea what you're talking about." She shrugged, and he shook his head. "I don't have time for this. Have you seen three hot women? A red dress, a blue dress and a gold dress? Like short dresses?" he asked, tapping his thigh with his hand to indicate that your dress left little to his imagination. "They are like around this tall?" he added, sticking his hand in the air around your height.

"Sorry, Mr. Sweet Emotion, but I only take note of the biggest tippers."

Bradley groaned and pushed the door open, and the music was so loud, it wasn't even worth trying to ask the bartenders if they'd seen you. As soon as his eyes adjusted to the dark, he walked around the cavernous club, trying to locate you three, but it was mostly men. And then he had the disturbing thought that maybe some guys tried to pick you up.

"Why are you doing this to me, Blaze?" he whispered to himself as he walked back through every corner he could find. He even asked a woman to check if you were in the ladies' restroom. He came up empty handed again. 

"God damn it," he said once he was back outside with Murph.

"To be fair," Murph said as he lit up a cigarette, "I think you'd make an okay stripper."

"Thank you for that," Bradley told him sincerely as he tapped his rideshare app again, but then he heard a horn honking and looked up. It was Julian, hanging out his car window. He'd waited for him. 

"She's not here?"

"No, Julian. She's not here!" he said as he rushed toward the Toyota and climbed in.

"Well, where are we going next?"

Bradley closed his eyes and thought about what Phoenix had said earlier at the Hard Deck. "Pleasure Town. They were going dancing at Pleasure Town."

"On it," Julian told him and shifted into drive.

It was after midnight now. Pleasure Town wasn't too far away, but he'd be lucky to even find you in there on the weekend. But if he did, you'd be dancing like crazy with the biggest smile on your face, pretending you liked the music they were playing while you thought about your own playlists instead. You'd be drinking some neon colored cocktail and trying to talk the girls into leaving to get cookies from that place that was open all night. You'd maybe even be checking your phone and finally, finally texting him back.

"Yeah, you're right, Julian."

"About what, my man?"

Bradley rubbed his hands over his face. "I'm in love with her."

Julian reached his arm back at a red light, and Bradley fist bumped him. "Yeah, that's what I'm talking about! I could tell right away. Don't worry. We'll find her."

But it got harder to be hopeful the longer he was in the dance club. There was barely any room to walk around, and there were dozens of women in little dresses that looked like the one you were wearing, but none of them had your face or your smile. You weren't here. 

He stood on the dance floor and read your text one more time.

Full disclosure, I'm drunk. And I'll probably regret this in the morning, but... I think about kissing you all the time.

He wanted to know what kissing you would feel like. Now that you opened his mind to something more, he'd never be able to stop thinking about it. But this time, he let himself finally focus on the word regret in your message.You'd regret what you said in the morning. He knew you; he knew you would never go for the idea sober. But he texted you one more time anyway.

Blaze, please call me when you get this. It doesn't matter what time it is. Just call.

When he walked back out into the cool, night air, Julian was right there at the curb waiting with a hopeful look on his face. "Bro, is she here?" When Bradley didn't respond, his face melted into sadness. "Or did she say the 'just friends' shit?"

"She's not here," he replied, once again climbing in the back of the now familiar car.

"We going somewhere else now? The pursuit continues?"

Bradley grimaced and said, "I think I should just throw in the towel and regroup. Can you take me back to the Hard Deck? I'm definitely sober enough to drive home now."

But even Julian sounded disappointed now. "Of course, dude. Anything you want."

"Thanks," Bradley grunted, watching as the city lights faded a bit as they got closer to the beach. When Julian parked near the Bronco, he said, "I appreciate all your help tonight."

He gave Bradley another fist bump. "You gotta start fresh tomorrow, man. And you can't leave me hanging, okay? I need a wedding invitation."

Bradley chuckled as he climbed out for the last time. "I'm about to leave you the biggest tip."

He tapped two hundred bucks into the app as Julian drove off shouting, "Good luck!"

With nothing else he could do right now, he climbed in the Bronco, cranked the engine and started to drive himself home for the night. He was tempted to swing by your place or at least try to call you one more time, but he decided to let you get some sleep before you started to regret your message. That way he'd have a little more time with this hopeful feeling in his chest.

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

There was pounding. There was so much pounding. Maybe someone turned the music up even louder at Cheetahs? Or were you at Pleasure Town now? "Make them turn it down," you moaned, trying to cover your ears. That's when you realized you were in your bed. At home. Someone was knocking on your front door.

"Wait," you croaked as loudly as you could, your ears still buzzing from the loud music all night long. The bachelorette evening had been highly successful. Halo had a great time. But now you were hungover and not in the mood to deal with anyone. 

As you climbed out of bed, you grabbed your phone from the nightstand to check the time. The battery was almost dead, and you had a bunch of missed texts and calls, but you couldn't even focus on that until the pounding ceased.

"Please stop," you whined, flinging your door open before you even checked to see who it was. When you saw him it felt like someone poured warm caramel sauce on your heart or shoved you hard into a wall made out of soft foam: he always made you feel good and gooey and squishy in the most heart pounding, confusing way. "Rooster."

When he moved slightly, he stopped blocking the sunlight behind him and you squinted your eyes and groaned as you took a step back. "Blaze," he said in that raspy as sin voice as he blessedly closed your front door behind him. "You have a hangover."

You nodded, but even that was too much. "What gave it away?" you asked him softly, still holding your phone.

He snorted. "Well, for starters, you're still wearing your dress from last night."

"Oh." You hadn't realized that as you looked down at yourself for confirmation. "We went pretty hard. I can't even remember much after you bought us the Johnnie Walker at the Hard Deck."

He remained quiet until you looked back up at his face. "You... remember texting me?" His tone was one you'd never heard before, and it took you a few seconds to realize he was nervous. On edge. Hesitant. He was never any of those things with you, and you didn't like this at all.

"I texted you?" When you lifted your phone higher, you started to wonder why he hadn't hugged you when you opened the door. He usually always did. He swallowed hard, and you watched the scars along his neck as his Adam's apple bobbed.

"You really don't remember?"

Now he just sounded really fucking sad, and for some reason your brain was screaming at you that there was something you were definitely supposed to recall from last night. Something about Bradley. You left him at the Hard Deck after he paid for the Scotch, and then you went to dinner and drank more while you thought about him the whole time. But there was definitely something else.

"No. I really don't remember," you whispered, annoyed with yourself. You felt like it was somehow your fault that his lips were pressed in a tight line and his brow was creased.

"It's not important," he replied, all businesslike now. "Can I see your phone for a minute?"

"Yeah," you told him, handing it over and watching while he punched in your passcode. "What did you end up doing all night?"

He sighed and looked at you. "I ended up following you around to no avail."

"Why?" you asked, still clearly missing a piece of this whole puzzle as he started tapping your phone screen with his thumb. 

"That's not important either," he whispered, and you decided you didn't like any of this. 

You snatched your phone out of his hand and wrapped your arms around his neck. Almost reluctantly, he hugged you back before reaching his hand up to where you were holding your phone, trying to get it again. "What do you want my phone for so badly?"

He was acting strange, and when he said nothing in response, you lunged out of his grasp and tapped on your text thread with him. 

"Blaze," he barked out, but it was too late. You read what you'd sent him last night.

Full disclosure, I'm drunk. And I'll probably regret this in the morning, but... I think about kissing you all the time.

"Oh my god!" you screeched. "I didn't delete that?! I hit send!" You couldn't even meet his eyes now as you tried to figure out how to get him to leave so you could cry in peace.

"Blaze, it's okay," he promised, but you knew it wasn't.

"You were going to delete that message. And the ones you sent to me after it," you accused. "Weren't you?" When he just stared at you silently, you realized he was trying to save you from being embarrassed, but it was way too late for that. He didn't want you. He was never going to want you.

"No hard feelings," he said softly. "Go ahead and delete it yourself. We can pretend this never happened."

"No hard feelings?" you practically wailed, afraid you were going to cry in front of him. "I just ruined everything. You were never supposed to know how I feel about you, Bradley."

As soon as you ducked your head away from him, his fingers were under your chin tipping your face up so you were looking him in his impossibly endearing brown eyes. "I need you to explain this to me. Okay?" He took your phone gently from your hand and held it up with the message displayed. "Please, Blaze. Did you mean it? Is that how you think about me?" When you nodded slightly, he readjusted his hand on your face so he was cupping your cheek instead. "Baby, I followed you everywhere last night. I called you and texted you and rode around in a white Toyota with Julian for hours on end."

"Who's Julian?" you ask softly as Bradley slid your phone into his jeans pocket.

"He's my new friend," he replied, which cleared up exactly nothing for you. "I went on this insane chase from Cowboy Star to Cheetahs to Pleasure Town just to try find out if there was even the slightest chance that you really meant what you said."

He closed the distance between your bodies as he stroked his thumb along your cheek. "It was supposed to be my little secret," you whispered. "I just typed it out to see how it would look. I read it in my head and imagined how you might take it. It was supposed to get deleted. You were never supposed to know."

"Is it really so bad that I do?"

His question hung in the air between you, and once again you nodded. "Yes, Bradley. Yes, because it's going to complicate everything now. Work, and our friends, and hanging out at the bar. It's all ruined. Because you'll never look at me the same way you used to."

"Blaze," he rasped. "Baby, I don't want to look at you the same way I used to. Like I was never going to measure up. Like I could never be what you wanted."

You gasped as your eyes went wide. "What are you saying?"

He groaned and pressed his lips to your forehead, and you melted against him. "I'm saying that I chased you all over the city last night hoping like hell that you meant what you said. And that you didn't regret it."

Your head was spinning, but not from the hangover as you thought about how it could feel to be with this man. "You want this?" you asked in awe as your hands eased up along his chest to slip around his neck again.

"Desperately. And if you think you want to see where it goes, we can take it slow, you know?" he asked, his brown eyes hopeful once again. "We don't have to rush into anything crazy."

But you knew you were already kind of crazy about him. You had been for a long time. So you whispered, "I think I could fall in love with you," and his lips came crashing to yours. You moaned into his mouth. His lips and his mustache were even better than all those times you'd imagined kissing him. His huge hands were bunching up the fabric of your dress at your hips. You wanted every part of your body to be touching him from now until forever.

This was how good it felt when you and he stopped pulling your punches. When you both stopped pumping the brakes. You raked your hands through his wavy hair, gasping for breath as you asked, "Did you really try to find me last night?"

"Of course," he promised as you kissed along his mustache and across his cheek. "It was enlightening. I learned a lot about myself. Hey, do you think I'd be a good stripper?"

"God, Rooster," you groaned just thinking about it. "You'd be an excellent stripper."

"I fucking knew it," he grunted, half guiding you and half carrying you to your bedroom. "Listen, we should cuddle right now, but I'm going to need you to come to Hard D Boys with me one night. I'm pretty sure it's just to prove a point, but you never know."

You really weren't positive what he was talking about now, but it didn't matter. His lips were on your neck, and his weight was pressing you down onto your bed, and he was saying the most wonderful thing.

"I know for sure I could fall in love with you."

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

He's such a simp, he would chase you anywhere. Imagine taking your brand new boyfriend to his stripper audition just because he has to prove a point. I mean, I wouldn't complain lol. Thanks for reading! And thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @thedroneranger

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[moonstruckme]

HI MAE!!! HAPPY 7k 🩷🩷

can i please do a blueberry muffin from your bake sale??? I always wanted a part two to your drabble for the emt!marauders with a reader who gets vertigo. I still for the comfort of how it'll be the car ride to the hospital with the boys comforting the reader just like int he first part. the drabble ended too soon 🫶🏻

nevertheless, you totally degree this milestone!!!

Thank you lovely!

part 1

cw: severe dizziness, mention of vomiting

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 497 words

You’ve decided not to make any more sounds. Your moaning and groaning was only worrying the boys, and if you can’t control anything else you can control that. Still, as slow as Remus tries to make the next turn, you can’t help your soft intake of air. Your head keeps turning long after the car has straightened out. 

“I know,” Sirius murmurs in reply to your little gasp. His voice is weighed down with sympathy. 

You’ve figured out that the cold of his hands helps, so he keeps pressing them to your forehead, your temples, your neck. On your other side, James is doing his best to keep you from moving with his arm around your shoulders. You’re holding your neck ramrod straight for the same purpose. You can feel the stitching of the seats where your fingers are pressed harshly to them, though in your vision the car is only a smear of gray interior and a deep blue out the windows. You guess by the color that it must be early morning. 

“I’ve got a bag,” James reminds you. “Let me know if you think you need it, yeah?” 

Your answering hum is wobbly. Sirius moves his hands to your cheeks. 

“Are you feeling any better, sweetheart?” Remus asks. You can picture him looking into the rear view mirror, and you and then at the other boys. You wonder what faces they’re making in silent answer. “Can you see at all?” 

“A little bit,” you lie. 

Sirius makes a soft sound, low in his throat. He strokes his thumb over your cheekbone. “Don’t downplay it for us,” he chides, about ten degrees gentler than his usual admonishments. “We can’t help you as well if we don’t know how bad it is, baby.” 

You press your lips together, hard, clamping them between your teeth, but you’re sure your boyfriends can see the tears you’re holding back regardless. James kisses your hair. 

“It’s okay,” he says. “We can talk about all that when we get there, yeah? You’re alright.” 

A quiet whimper slips out of you, two tears blinking out of your eyes one after the other. 

“You are, angel.” James seems desperate to reassure you. Sirius’ hands move to press over your collarbones, firm and grounding. “You’re okay. We’re gonna make it better, my love.” 

“Once we’re there, we’ll try not to move you around hardly at all, dove, alright?” Remus chimes in. “We’ll get you settled and checked out, and the worst thing that can happen is you end up sitting still and waiting this out. No more driving or walking or anything like that until you’re feeling better.” 

“Okay,” you manage to squeak out in reply. 

“Oh, my sweetheart.” James sounds nearly on the brink of tears himself, and you think you feel Sirius reach across you to rub his leg even as they’re both comforting you. 

“I know.” Sirius kisses your temple. “I know, baby. We’ve got you.” 

That, you can believe in.

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

PR disaster p.2

Hey guyss, since you liked part 1 and I love Franco I decided to do part 2. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do and if you want to read more of my stories here's my masterlist :)

Y/N stood in front of her bathroom mirror, staring at her reflection as she tugged nervously at the hem of her dress. Why on earth was she nervous? This was just a deal—a professional arrangement. She had agreed to go on this ridiculous date with Franco purely to keep him in check. There was no reason for her stomach to be doing flips or for her hands to be fidgeting like she was a teenager going on her first date.

“Get it together,” she muttered to herself, giving her reflection one last once-over.

Her dress was simple but elegant, a deep blue that she usually wore to events where she needed to look put together. Neutral. Not too flirty, not too casual. And yet, as she looked at herself, she couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe—just maybe—she had spent a little extra time getting ready.

She shook her head, rolling her eyes at her own ridiculousness. "It’s just Franco," she whispered, trying to remind herself who this date was with. That thought should’ve made her relax, but instead, it only made her heart race faster.

Just then, the sound of a knock at her door pulled her out of her thoughts. She took a deep breath, smoothing down her dress once more before heading to answer.

When she opened the door, there stood Franco, leaning casually against the frame with his signature grin firmly in place. His dark curls were styled perfectly, and his shirt—though slightly unbuttoned at the collar—looked annoyingly well put together. He always managed to toe the line between effortless and way too charming.

Franco’s eyes flicked over her outfit, and for a moment, something softer passed across his expression. "Wow," he murmured, his voice lower than usual. "Te ves… increíble, jefa." (You look … incredible, boss)

Y/N felt the warmth rush to her cheeks before she could stop it. “It’s just a dress,” she said, trying to keep her voice as neutral as possible. “And stop calling me ‘jefa.’ We’re off duty.”

Franco’s grin returned in full force, and he leaned in slightly. "Oh, perdón. ¿Debería llamarte hermosa entonces?" (Oh, sorry. ¿Should I call you beautiful instead?)

She blinked, trying to decipher what he had just said before waving a hand dismissively. “Let’s just get this over with.”

Franco chuckled softly, stepping aside and offering his arm with an exaggerated flourish. "As you wish, hermosa." (Beautiful)

She ignored the Spanish this time and brushed past him, pretending not to notice how nice his cologne smelled as they headed out.

The restaurant Franco had chosen was a small, cosy spot in the heart of the city. It was intimate without being too romantic—just a perfect balance. Y/N had to give him credit; she had expected something flashy or over-the-top, but this was… nice.

Throughout dinner, Franco was, unsurprisingly, his usual self. He flirted relentlessly, slipping in compliments in both English and Spanish, leaving Y/N constantly on edge trying to figure out what he was saying. But as much as she tried to keep her usual grumpy exterior, she found herself laughing more than she’d care to admit.

“So,” Franco said, leaning forward, a playful glint in his eyes. “Are you having fun yet, or are you still counting the minutes until this is over?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, taking a sip of her wine to hide the smile she couldn’t quite suppress. “It’s… tolerable.”

“Tolerable?” he repeated, feigning offense. “Y/N, you wound me. I was hoping for at least ‘moderately enjoyable.’”

She let out a small laugh despite herself, shaking her head. “Fine. Maybe it’s a little fun.”

Franco grinned, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied look. “See? I told you I could be charming.”

“Charming isn’t the word I’d use,” she shot back, though there was no real bite behind her words.

They continued talking, their banter flowing effortlessly between them. Despite Y/N’s initial hesitation, she realized she was actually enjoying herself. Franco, as annoying as he could be, was surprisingly easy to talk to when he wasn’t causing PR disasters.

The evening went by faster than she expected, and by the time they left the restaurant, she couldn’t deny that Franco had managed to wear down her defenses. They walked side by side down the quiet street, the night air cool and refreshing after the warmth of the restaurant.

“You know,” Franco began, his tone a little softer now, “I didn’t just ask you out to make a deal.”

Y/N glanced up at him, brow furrowing. “What do you mean?”

He stopped walking, turning to face her fully. His usual playful grin was gone, replaced by a sincerity she hadn’t seen before. "I asked you out because… I like you, Y/N. Even when you’re all grumpy and serious, you’re…" He paused, searching for the right words. "Eres increíble. You’re smart, tough, and you don’t let me get away with anything. I like that." (You are incredible)

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. She opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out.

Franco took a step closer, his eyes locked on hers. "No tienes idea de cuánto me gustas." (You have no idea how much I like you)

This time, Y/N didn’t need a translation. She understood perfectly, and for the first time, she didn’t push him away.

Franco’s hand reached up, gently brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, his touch soft and lingering. "Tell me to stop," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

But Y/N didn’t want him to stop. Instead, she found herself leaning in, her heart pounding in her chest as her eyes fluttered closed.

And then, Franco’s lips met hers.

The kiss was soft at first, hesitant, as if he was waiting to see if she’d pull away. But when she didn’t, Franco deepened it, his hand slipping to the small of her back, pulling her closer. Y/N’s arms wrapped around his neck, her earlier grumpiness melting away as she let herself get lost in the moment.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathless. Franco smiled down at her, his forehead resting against hers.

"So," he murmured, still slightly out of breath, "I think this date went pretty well, ¿no?"

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh softly, shaking her head in disbelief. “You’re impossible.”

Franco grinned, pressing another quick kiss to her lips. "But you like me anyway."

And, much to her own surprise, Y/N realized he was right. She did.

[grunkle-lover]

Pent up/thigh man/rough Ford (?)

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⚠️VERY NSFW MDNI!⚠️

■Not proof read bc idgaf■

♡Contains: chubby female reader, thigh kink, biting, pussy eating, overstim, kinda perv Ford, SEX!!!

♡minors, not my fault if you get traumatized♡

《Idk what happened, this ended up being like three times as long as I was planning... but oh well I guess, I think it got a little unhinged and lost a tiny bit of plot but oh well. Much more than half is just straight smut so who cares!》

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You and Ford have been together for about a year now, and he's very open with with you. Except when it came to his newfound fetish, your thighs. He couldn't take his eyes off them, all he wanted was to be crushed between them while eating you out.

Little did he know you've caught on to his staring, and have decided to silently tease him by wearing more clothes that expose your thighs.

Tonight was your one year anniversary and Ford was taking you out for a fancy dinner, you had splurged a little on a new dress yesterday that you knew he'd like.

pretty much this but with slits up both thighs and stop just before your underwear.

(mini skip)

You had just finished getting ready, and was waking down the stairs when you saw Ford standing by the front door in a suit with a matching red tie.

"Wow..." Ford looks breathless as he checks you out "you look gorgeous darling" he says unable to hide his smile.

"And you look as handsome as ever my love" you walk up to him, dusting off his shoulder and giving him a peck on the cheek.

Ford's cheeks get a dusting of pink at your actions "shall we?" He holds out his arm for you, and you take it smiling a at him as the two of you walk out to the car.

(After the date)

You had been teasing Ford throughout the date with small touches and mind games which were driving him crazy.

Once you both were inside he had locked the front door while you took off your heels. Suddenly you felt Ford's large hand on your waist pulling you backwards against his chest, and his warm breath on the back of your neck. He was leaving small kisses along your neck while his hands traveled lower to your thighs slowly hiking up your dress to expose your black lace underwear.

Ford had now turned to around so you were facing him as he slowly pushed you backwards, your lips connected with his he pressed your back against the counter.

"Do you know what you were doing to me back there?"

His voice is low and gravelly, his lips leaving small hickeys on your neck. You could feel his strained bulge against your thigh, you decide to tease some more to see how much he could take.

"Maybe, why don't you remind me"

You whisper into his ear nibbling slightly, while you grab his ass to keep him in place and rub your thigh against his growing bulge.

Ford responds immediately to your touch by stifling a moan and throwing you over his shoulder carrying you to the bedroom. He kicks the door open and practically throws you on the bed and starts undressing.

"Such a brat."

Ford mumbles as he crawls towards you now only in his boxers, he's sitting in between your thighs while he works the dress up your waist and pulls it over your head.

Ford whistles when your matching black lace underwear and bra. His hands start wandering up your waist to your upper back pulling you up into a sitting position on his lap. He groans quietly when you rub against his painfully hard dick and begins to unhook you bra while sucking on your neck.

"Need you to ride me"

Ford mumbles against your neck, his hands on your now exposed boob's pinching your nipples. You moan softly at the sensation, grinding down on his clothed bulge, your hands combing through his silver hair.

He moved so he was leaning against the head board and you were at the end of the bed. He had removed his boxers while he moved, his dick standing straight up and shaded red with a bead precum dripping down the base.

You're practically drooling at the sight as you slide your underwear down your thighs and off your legs.

"God you look sexy like that"

He blushes at your words not quite registering when you started to crawl towards him. You then place one leg on either side of his hips straddling him, and gently grabbing the base of his cock pumping slightly to spread the precum.

"Oh fuck baby, just like that"

Ford moans throwing his head back onto the pillow behind him, a six fingered hand gripping your waist. Once you've deemed him lubed up enough you lower your hips slightly and tease his overly sensitive tip through your wet folds.

Ford's eyes snap open at the feeling and a gasp escapes his lips which turns into a low drawn out moan, his hips bucking.

"Getting impatient are we?"

You tease. sucking on his neck before biting down, not hard enough to break the skin but just enough to leave a mark. Your kisses still down his neck to his chest eventually landing on his right nipple, circling it with your tongue.

The sound Ford emits is somewhere between a scream and a moan, while his hands are still on your waist. He finally lifts his head giving you a dirty look as if your playing unfair.

During all this you've been teasing his dick by rubbing your slick all over his lower half making sure he'll fit. Even after a year of being together and the countless times you've had sex, he's still just so thick that it's taken this long to be able to take him without much prep.

"Aww does is someone upset I know where youre sensitive?"

Your voice is almost mocking, but it turns him on anyway knowing that you can make him melt so quickly. Ford's getting even more needy now his hips bucking more often than before and his moans get whiner.

With a few more hickeys and some hand pumps you start to slide his tip inside your practically dripping hole. Both of you moan in sync at the feeling, and you slowly slide down farther till you have him fully stuffed inside you.

Ford's hands start wandering your body and over your stomach where there's a noticeable bulge in the shape of his dick. He presses on it causing you to moan loudly and arch your back, you're pussy squeezing around him.

"Ah my love you're so tight"

He manages to speak through his moans, his hips trying to buck into you but he's using all his strength to hold back as to not hurt you.

"If you don't move soon I'm not gonna be able to hold on much longer"

Ford's practically sweating from how much it's taking him to hold back from fucking into you like a mad man. His hands are helping your hips so tight you'll definitely be having dinner shaped bruises tomorrow.

You experimentally roll you hips causing you both to moan, and Ford's hips to buck into you which makes you gasp and grab his shoulders for support. You start a steady pase lifting about half way then gently letting back down, which was almost torture to Ford.

Despite liking slow sensual sex there are times where he's just so pent up he needs to release it somewhere, and why not into you?

Suddenly Ford loses his control and lifts you just to the tip before shoving you back down meeting you in the middle with a harsh thrust. His actions cause you to scream his name, nails digging into his shoulder muscles while all you can do now is accept your fate.

Tits bouncing and head resting in the crook of his neck, Ford fucks his rock hard dick into your pussy. Without warning Ford flips you onto your stomach and pulls your ass up into a doggy position. Holding your wrists above your head he lines back up and shoves his dick back into you hitting your deepest spot making you cum.

You're screaming his name as Ford fucks you through your orgasm, and keeps trusting with the same power. At this point you've been fucked stupid and all you can do is moan and try to move your hips back against his own.

After a few more minutes you notice Ford's thrusts start to get shallow and slower, which meant he was close to cumming. You do your best to squeeze around him and your actions don't go unnoticed, infact that was the last push he needed to spill his hot thick cum inside you.

"You did so good for me dear"

Ford says breathlessly, as he rolls you over to see your sweaty hickey covered body this sight alone makes him want to go again. He restrains himself by silently laying his head between your thighs leaving small kisses along them, and the occasional small hickey.

"Ford, what are you doing?"

Your voice is quiet and tired from your session earlier, however your hands make their way to his summer gray hair tugging slightly.

"Shh dear, let me take care of you"

Ford leaves a few more hickeys as he inches closer to your core, his hand wrapping around your hips again gently this time. Once he reaches his goal he licks a stripe from your entrance to you clit, the mixed taste of yours and his cum making him moan softly.

When he starts sucking your clit a shudder rips through your body, your pussy being overstimulated hightened your sensitivity to his touch. You start to squirm at his actions when he dips his tongue into your hole that's dripping your mixed cum.

"Taste so good"

Ford's mumbles against your pussy pulling you back to him when you try to wiggle away, he practically shoves his face into your pussy. He's now eating you out like you're his last meal and god do you love it, your hands are gripping his hair pulling him as close as possible.

The pleasure starts to build up getting closer to your orgasm, your legs start to close around Ford's head thighs pressing on either side of his head. His hands move from your waist to your thighs gripping and fondling them as he continues to eat, moaning into your sensitive pussy.

"Ford! Can't take anymore"

You practically scream as you cum on his face, your thighs having a death grip around his head. He doesn't really notice though, because he's too busy slurping up your fresh cum not caring of he suffocates between your thighs.

When your legs relax he lifts his head, his hands still on your thighs, his whole loose face is glistening with cum and saliva. He gives you a doped or face like he's gotten high of your pussy, leaning his face into your right thigh he sucks a small hickey.

"I've wanted to do that for so long my love"

He speaks like it wasn't already obvious he had some sort of fetish for your thighs. You laugh at his words smiling down at him, you squish his face with your thighs.

"Oh I know honey"

You let him go and let your legs fall flat along with the rest of your body.

"Let's get you cleaned up darlin"

(After he cleans you up)

(Aftercare king)

He had picked out your favorite pair of pajamas and made sure you wouldn't be sticky in the morning. You both were now cuddled up with each other, you being the little spoon and Ford being the big spoon, you had said your goodnights and drifted off to sleep.

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[gunnerfc]

Could you possibly do a sickfic with Steph Catley where R is her younger sister (like 25 or something) and R gets the flu or like has a migraine and Steph takes care of her? R can be a player or do something else up to you.

Also I hope coming back goes smoothly and just a pre-reminder don't listen to any of the mean anons, they are just keyboard warriors

S. Catley & Sister!Reader - Doctor’s Orders | WC: 801

AN: arsenal Reader! hope you enjoy bff! 🫂

You tried your hardest to hide your cough as you got out of your car at the training grounds, hoping it was just a little cold that would pass by the end of the day. You sniffled as you entered the building, waving hello to the office staff as you made your way to the locker room. Just as you were about to enter, a coughing fit hit and you could tell this wasn’t just a cold.

You opted to keep it to yourself, knowing you would be sent home, and with Champions League games just around the corner, you knew you needed to be on your A-game. In the midst of your coughing, you failed to notice your sister coming down the hall with Lia. 

“Y/n,” Steph’s voice pulled you out of your coughing fit and you turned to look at her with wide eyes. Steph was the last person you wanted to see right now, knowing she would be the first one to send you home.

“Hi, Steph. Hi, Lia,” you mumbled, avoiding their eyes, finding the pictures on the wall more interesting. Lia laughed softly at your avoidance before excusing herself, giving you a light pat on the back as she passed by you. 

You refused to meet your older sister’s gaze until she cleared her throat, waiting for you to look at her. You turned your head slightly with a pained expression, all the coughing had started to cause your head to ache as well. 

“Steph…,” you started but were quickly stopped when the defender’s hand was raised to your forehead to check your temperature. 

“You’re burning up, Y/n/n,” Steph mumbled, as she moved the back of her hand to your check before dropping it. “You should be resting, at home,” she said, with a pointed look.

You sighed softly before opening your mouth to try and defend yourself but instead of speaking, another round of coughing hit you. You sniffled once more after the coughing had subsided and you dropped your head slightly, knowing Steph was right. 

“I have to meet with the trainers about my injury, it shouldn’t take long. Why don’t you go wait for me in my car and I’ll take you home,” Steph offered softly, you knew it was no use trying to argue with her, she knew she would get her way.

You nodded softly before making your way back outside to her car, dropping to the passenger seat to wait for her. After a couple of minutes, you could feel your eyes getting heavy as you fell asleep. You were woken up once you heard the car door open and Steph was lightly shaking you, telling you that you were back at your apartment. You must have slept the whole way back.

Steph helped you to the door, unlocking it with the spare key you gave her when you moved in. You quickly slipped your shoes off before dropping to the couch, sighing once you were able to rest comfortably. 

“You need to eat something first, y/n/n,” Steph’s voice echoed from your kitchen, earning a low groan from you. You knew she was right but you were ready to fall asleep. “Here,” her voice was a lot closer this time, as you opened your eyes to see her sitting a bowl of hot soup on the coffee table.

You mumbled a hoard thank you as you sat up, pulling the bowl up so you could eat. Steph disappeared to your bathroom, looking for medicine that might help with your cough and stuffiness. You sighed softly as the warm soup soothed your sore throat, quickly emptying the bowl just as Steph returned with cold medicine. 

You sat the bowl back on the table and Steph picked it up as she handed you the correct number of pills that the label stated. She was quick to take the dirty dish back to the kitchen and return with a glass of water so you could easily take the medicine. You downed the medicine with a sip of water before placing the glass on the table and making yourself comfortable on the couch once more.

“Get some rest, and hopefully you’ll feel a bit better when you wake up,” your sister spoke softly as she took a seat on the other end of the couch.

“You’re gonna stay the whole time,” you questioned with a small yawn, eyes closing as you were close to sleep.

“Of course,” the defender smiled softly as she turned the TV on with a low volume. You were out after that, your body was tired from the sickness, but you were glad to have Steph there in case you needed her. Playing for the same team as your older sister has its perks sometimes.

[bronx-bomber87]

Hello lovely fandom and happy Wednesday. We are cruising along with 6x09. Can't believe we're already on the second to last ep. Not a ton of Chenford or Tim in this one but what we do get is GOOOD. It's an all around good episode though. Let us begin.

6x09 The Squeeze

Recap of 6x06-6x08 got me all in my feels before this one even starts. Poor Tim killing me right off that bat. Always be floored by Eric and his ability to convey so much with a look. How it just makes me wanna hug his hurt away. No wonder Lucy always pulls him in for hugs. How could she not? I’m sure he hasn’t even begun to process how he feels. It’s a lot what just happened to him. It all unfolded in the blink of an eye.

Someone who he used to work closely with killing himself in front of him. Doing so because he’s a dirty cop. Not only that but taking all his secrets with him. Only thing Tim got out of it was Dr. London being dirty too. Grey shows up to the scene and startles Tim out of his thoughts. He debriefs Wade letting him know Mad Dog confessed to being dirty. That he believes Blair to be apart of it as well. Now we all know he didn’t mention her by name.

BUT it was pretty damn implied. With the awkward interactions in the hospital and the rooftop scene. Wade asks if he used her name specifically? Tim tells him no….But it was clear she was who M.D. was speaking of. Grey reminding him to be careful of accusing without any evidence. As amazing as his cop gut is that’s not evidence unfortunately. Loving the hat on Wade btw. Very fitting.

It’s not too long before the accusatory Detective Pearson shows up. Not loving him from the jump. Couldn't stand him for couple reasons. One because douche bag just comes off him in waves. Two the way he comes at Tim makes me wanna knock him on his ass. This guy coming in way too hot for my liking. Far too eager to pin this on Tim.

Makes my protective Sicilian side emerge and she’s not happy. I do love Grey being quick to Tim’s defense. No one better to have his back in this moment. Lucy would be great of course. But Wade is the superior in this moment so his 'back off ' holds more water. Gotta love this man. Always protects his people.

Wade can tell Pearson wants to have a slam dunk case against Tim. It’ll further his career to get such a high-ranking officer tangled in a dirty mess. It's why Grey tells him as such. Ugh. What a schmuck. Kudos to the actor though. I instantly dislike him so well done sir LOL The way Tim watches the body get wheeled away breaks my heart. Damnit Eric you’re too good at your job. Expressing so much in that look I just want to hug him. But that’s Lucy’s job later…

We join Celina officially moving in. This will be an interesting dynamic for s7. Especially after they get back together. I’ll be intrigued how that is all handled... But I’m getting way too ahead of myself. It's hard not to when we don’t know anything. It’s easy to daydream and speculate about the unknown. Anyways John is there and sadly not as a friend but to check in on Celina. She says he’s just making sure she’s not late for her shift.

Nolan commenting would reflect poorly on him and his performance review is coming up. Not selfish at all John….His review should be ‘Needs work.’ But we all know how I feel about him as a teacher. He asks Lucy how she is? I don’t think he expects the epic rant he receives. I mean she has healed some but not nearly enough. Her words sounding like she’s trying to convince herself. Makes me sad. Doing her best to flip all this upheaval into a good thing.

Our girl feels really lost in her life right now. All the turmoil that I don’t know she’s really dealt with. I think part of her having Celina move in is she doesn’t have to deal with it as much. To not have to be alone and sit in her feelings. Because I am the the same way. If left alone too long with my thoughts they eat at me. This scene just being more proof she hasn’t dealt with much of it at all IMO. I know the prevailing theory of the season for Lucy was she was alone. Isolated. I mentioned this in my mini too.

I think a lot of the isolating is self inflicted. Her and Tim are very alike in how they handle emotional distress. At an arms length and solo. Other than Jackson, Tim is the only one she’s really allowed close to her. Tamara yes but that's always been more maternal and not like what she has with Tim. And even him she doesn’t tell everything to and vice versa. It’s very in character for her to do this. I know people thinks because she’s bubbly, optimistic and outgoing this isn’t the case. But it is. Just like how people who are depressed don’t come off that way. When there a signs of it despite their ‘happy or sunny’ demeanor.

She was isolating herself before the breakup even occurred. Rewatching this season she was doing so from the very jump of s6. Their fight in 6x01 being proof of that isolation. She felt herself overloading and shoved him away with her accusation. That was just the start. 6x04 and her rash decisions with Jeff Budny is a huge one as well. She didn’t include the one person she should’ve in that ep. It's how we ended up in that hospital room with her. I’ve said this many times before. But her and Tim are quite alike in how they handle their emotions.

Tim’s is showcased more especially this season. It's easier to detect. If you're really looking you can see her's. Lucy’s were screaming through out this entire season as well. She is a control freak just like Tim in the way she shuts people out. Even her person couldn’t get in and vice versa. They have the same fatal flaw. It’s why their lack of communication became their downfall. Our girl has as much growing to do as Tim does. I’m hoping all this is a setup for s7 for her. To me her explosion here is an example of her not dealing fully with what happened still. Shall see how s7 is handled for her. I'm hopeful.

Their convo is interrupted by Angela calling Lucy. First off I love her looking out for Lucy. Just like she does with Tim. There was a great parallel set for this and 2x12. Angela providing comfort to them both when the other is in distress. Our on-screen cheerleader for them both and I love it sfm. Even knowing what a weird place they’re in, she knew Lucy would wanna know from her than anyone else. We love you Angela Lopez. You’re a real one.

She also knows Lucy well to tell her right off the bat he’s ok. You know her heart stopped when she began that sentence. We watch Lucy instantly go into wifey mode. Both in her body language and tone of voice as Angela explains. How she turns her back to the others when it’s about her person. Needing a moment to herself as she absorbs this information.

Melissa crushing it in this scene with everything she does. From closing her eyes taking in the severity of this situation. To the concerned wifey tone she switched to quickly. We all know she has a million and one thoughts rushing through her brain right now. Mainly was he ok? Does he need her? The worry for him settling into her soul and growing rapidly by time the call ends. Once Angela hangs up she finally turns around and updates them. Concern flooding her tone.

The wifey vibes continue when John gets a call shortly after. Tim has called him to be his union rep. (Only reason he would ever call Nolan in a personal matter...) We watch as anxiety all but pours out of Lucy. Worried wifey mode has activated and it’s not going away. Despite everything they’ve been through. Everything he’s done. Her number one instinct is worry and concern for him. It's deeply rooted. It's who she is.

She loves him so much still. That is written all over this scene and her reaction. That instinct to be there for him coursing through her like a powerful current. I love her stopping Nolan before he goes. The worry seeping out of her tone. Asking how he sounded? Nolan just replying ‘Tight.’ Which is apropos for Tim in situations such as this tbh. The reason she asked this was that she could gather everything she needed to know about his state of mind from that information alone.

When she hears Nolan’s reply her worry increases tenfold. Melissa is killing me in the best way in this scene. Props to her and Eric once again for this season. I can't praise them enough honestly. It hurt so much but hot damn if they weren’t giving their A game and more every single episode. Holy hell. Not that they don’t always. Just with such limited episodes they did really good with the material. Writing was superb for them. They rose to the occasion and then some.

Tim is so anxious waiting for Nolan it’s making me anxious. He is wound so damn tight right now. Not that I blame him but we can feel the anxiety just seeping out of him. The tapping of his feet, hands, and whole body is tense before Nolan arrives. He pops right up the minute John enters the room. He doesn’t look at all prepared for what Tim is about to thrown down at him.

Nolan tries to ask him questions but Tim doesn’t have time for it. Immediately let's him know what’s going on. That they’re going to want to hang this on someone. Now that Mad Dog is dead their scape goat is gone. All that is left is Tim. He’s STRESSED they’re going to hang this around his neck. That he needs Nolan to take over the investigation. I said this in my mini and I'll say it now.

My first thought was I don’t trust Nolan with this….That I wouldn’t have chosen him to spearhead this whole thing. But Tim doesn’t have a ton of options atm. So he’s gotta go with what he’s got. And that happens to be John Nolan right now. He asks Tim who to investigate? Tim tells him to look into Blair London the rookie police department shrink.

That he’s been seeing her and so has Aaron. That he thinks she had leverage on M.D. and that’s why he jumped. I wanna pause here and say how proud I am of Tim in this moment. Look at him reaching out for help this time. Not trying to quarterback this alone. Handling this completely differently than how he handled Ray. Not isolating himself and trying to figure this out solo. He’s going through the proper channels this time. Not wanting to do a OP and segregate himself from everyone.

To say it sucks Dr. London is dirty is an understatement. Because my greatest fear would be what she does in this episode. BUT I am forever grateful to her in the same vein. Because despite her being dirty she truly helped Tim in short time he had her. Look at the growth in this moment right now. I’ve said this many times already but I truly hope we continue his therapy journey. The results are astounding and I need more of this growth. It’s just like Chenford ship crack to me. Tim growth is my other drug of choice haha Give it to me writers LOL

We see Pearson is under Dr. London thumb. (Monica’s really) It leads up to this next scene that makes my blood boil. I hated watching this scene the first time and I didn’t love it any better second time around. It makes me sick to my stomach to watch unfold. How Pearson comes after Tim like a dog with a bone. The way he uses Dr. London to solidly his reasoning makes me all kinds of angry. I'm seeing red.

I HATE them using his sessions and twisting them for their own gain. It was like I said earlier this was my biggest fear of her being dirty. This right here. Gotta commend Danielle Campbell though. She does a really good job in this scene. Even though this was her idea you can see the conflict raging in her. Because she is the one who convinced Tim to go to therapy. For pure reasons actually. To help him out. Which she did. We know that’s why she’s under Monica thumb.

She used her need to help people against her. That she is only doing this because she is being coerced. Doesn’t excuse a damn thing, but explains her hesitation and almost tortured look in this scene. Especially when Pearson comes at Grey. Accusing him of favoritism. Saying he cares more about that than this city. You can see the restraint on Wade's face not to knock this punk out. How very dare you come at him and Tim like this. Makes me wanna rage so much.

This scene right here is why love Angela Lopez so much. That fiery passion she has for those she loves. How she is unwaveringly loyal to those she holds dear. Tim being that person in this moment. Not gonna lie that’s why I love this moment so much. Calling her husband. Love her of her life to chew him out to defend her brother. Her first instinct just like Lucy is to protect him.

To make sure if he’s charging Tim that she better know first. Hot damn Angela. Tell us how you really feel. haha This man is so lucky to have this fire ball in his corner phew lord. Telling Wes she stands by Tim a thousand percent. That he’s family. Ugh my heart. Gonna make me cry. I love their friendship so much. Give me more of them in s7. Their dynamic is fantastic and I need far more of it in my life.

We arrive at the best part of the episode. After nearly fifteen minutes filled with tension…We need this hug as much as these two do. My god. I adore her being so attuned to him. Lucy sees him and knows she needs to go to him. She can see how tense he looks. The clench in his jaw very evident. Her look damn near mirroring the worried look she had in 5x19. That same longing look to reach out to him surging through her. Worried Lucy is a fav of mine and we got to have that a lot in this episode.

This time she doesn't stop herself and we all love her for it. She worries about him, regardless of the state of their relationship. It’s what drives her to go after him before his elevator closes. That magnetic pull she can’t explain nor describe. All Lucy knows is she needs to be near him and comfort him. That even from afar she can tell he needs her. As I said earlier Lucy is so attuned to Tim and what he needs. It’s a beautiful thing to witness.

To say Tim is shocked when she keeps the elevator from closing is an understatement. Not only that but stopping it so they aren’t interrupted. Wanting to ensure they have a moment alone. Even when she says to be clear she’s still mad. That this doesn’t change anything. He’s still clueless as to what is going on here. You can see it all over his face above. He has zero idea why she is in here right now.

Because in his mind there is no way she’s thinking about him. Let alone wanting to be there for him in this moment. Which breaks my heart. The last thing he ever expected was for her to care for him. Or about him in any way shape or form. Also the 4x09 vibes coming off this hug had me losing my friggin mind. This hug is everything. It showcases their bond, the intimacy that still exists between them, the vulnerability has me reeling and how they are each other’s safe place still. *happy sigh*

The way she pulls him in reminiscent of the 4x09 hug. Tim standing there not expecting this moment of comfort and getting it. It’s the way she draws him into to hide in her arms. Just like she did in ‘Breakdown.’ I’m fine….Only difference in this hug from that one is the way he just melts into her arms. The face smoosh into her shoulder. Once again mirroring that infamous hug. We watch all that anxiety and stress just drain out of him. The tension he was carrying into the elevator leaving his body once he's in his happy place. Closing his eyes and surrendering to the comfort she brings him.

He immediately wraps his entire body around her. Melding into her. Easily falling into this hug and her arms. Like two puzzle pieces that are meant to be together. Fitting back together so effortlessly after time apart. Encasing her back in his hands and snuggling in for good measure. Clinging to her like she is his emotional life raft. Because. Well she is. Holding her as close as he physically can. Cherishing this moment. Because I’m sure he never thought he would experience this again. Holding her in his arms like this. Feel her comfort and love.

These two make me insane in the best way. Also let me once again point out Tim's growth. He didn’t even try to fight her like he’s done in the past. He sees this for the gift that it is and absorbs this moment. Savoring it really. The peace you can see on his face floors me. Eric at it again. You can tell this is first time in long time he’s felt whole. This hug is beautiful on some many levels. You can feel the raw emotion coming out of them both.

The concern that’s been building up in Lucy since this morning coming out in waves. She is tucked in TIGHT to him. Clinging to him as much as he is clinging to her. I'm not ok. You can hear the immense worry in her voice as she asks him if he’s ok? Despite everything she felt the draw to be there for him. The way she looks like she can finally breathe as she asks him that question is EVERYTHING.

We get some good hands hands hands in this hug. I can’t stop staring at her thumbs in that gif either. The soothing way she is running her thumbs up and down on his back and arm. Methodical in her soothing of him. Gah I cannot you guys. Her remarkable empathy shines through in this moment. This was a balm my soul needed so much. That all of us needed. We all know how much our boy longed for this.

Can't get over her face pressed so tightly into his neck. Doing this, as she asks him what she’s been dying to since she received that phone call. Like she couldn’t breathe until she knew the answer to this question. Look at the concern on her face when she does. I’m reeling and sobbing. Lucy looks on the verge of tears herself. Their hearts are just starting to mend in this glorious hug. You can feel it. Ours too.

No one does hugs like our ship does. They’re always top tier goodness. Holy hell. They’re just breathing each other in. Calming one another down. The anxiety that was raging in both of them cooling down to a simmer in this embrace. He has melted into her like butter at this point. Reveling in the comfort and empathy she's providing him. The way he says ‘I am now.’ Reminiscent of 5x21 and their phone call in the alley. How he wasn’t ok till he heard her voice.

Song remains the same in this moment. He wasn’t ok until now. Until she had her arms wrapped around him for this hug. Didn’t know he was holding his breath till she released it for him. It’s how he sways with her and sinks even further into her arms. Smooshing his face even farther into her shoulder. It’s so sincere his reply back that I am just a puddle of emotion. He’s so vulnerable in this moment with her.

Letting her know he wasn't ok until she was there. Imma scream at how much I love this growth in him. If there was any more doubt in Lucy’s mind of his feelings for her, this hug and his reaction to it should clear that right up. That is a man who is still so in love with her. Letting her know he wasn’t alright until she came and found him. I’m not crying you are…. Find you a person who knows what you need when you need it. Even when you’re not in the best place. That’s Lucy Chen for this man. Reigniting him falling in love with her all over again in this moment.

Lucy picking up on this growth reflects in her reaction back. Gah it’s the way she tightens her arms around him after she hears this. Closes her eyes and tries to bring him even closer. Trying to wrap him up in her arms even tighter. Absorb any stress he is carrying right now. The sheer relief written all her face. The way she shuts her eyes knowing he’s ok because she is there. *sobs*

Just melting into this man as she holds him as close as she can. Clinging to him as much as he is to her. I’m not ok in the best way. I remember thinking this hug would feed my soul into the hiatus. Just gonna scream into a pillow how much I love this moment. Their chemistry is insane and with a hug? Even more so my god. We are blessed to have a ship where our hugs are this amazing.

I love this faraway shot of their hug. They are in-sync as they part. How do they do that? We can see how deeply entangled they are. Nary an inch between them. You can see how they were just clinging onto each other for dear life. Look at Tim’s arms/hands. How gentle and intimate his are placed.

Having her as close as he can. It’s the hand gently wrapped around her lower back that has me losing it. It’s just so intimate I can’t get over it. Lucy is retuning the favor in kind. She too is just as intertwined as he is in this moment. Arms clinging to him and her face buried in his neck. Their chemistry on massive display here.

You’d think the hug alone would be enough to make me squee to death. Lucy follows it up with fixing his collar. I’m dead. The most wifey move of all moves. Reminded me of the lint picking from 5x12. Such an intimate coupley thing to do. I’m losing my damn mind over it. Wife energy coming off her in waves. Just seemed so automatic and natural when they part.

Also she touches her arm before reopening the door. She can’t keep her hands off him and I’m here for it. Tim looks like he’s going to cry in that elevator. I also love Tim putting his hands in his pockets right after. Because if he doesn’t he’ll never let her go. They’ll never get off this elevator. He could've stayed in that hug all day.

Basked in the comfort she had to give him. So he puts his hands immediately in his pockets after they part. Ugh my heart. They miss each other so much and this hug is screaming that. Also screaming how they didn’t miss a beat. How natural and wonderful it was. *happy sigh* This hug giving me true hope for the first time.

They re-open elevator to find Angela and Harper waiting for them. They look like they’ve been caught. Like they didn’t just have this deeply emotional embrace. The looks they share before Lucy leaves are LOADED. The expression on Angela’s face... She knows they interrupted something. I adore her saying she can get him extradited if he needs it. Love this woman so much. We know just like Lucy she is willing to do anything for this man.

Makes my heart so happy. All these women in his life want is to support and protect him. You can tell Angela wants to be tagged in so badly. Tim telling her won’t be necessary. He didn’t do anything wrong. That she had his back last time. He has different forces at play this time. Adore her saying 'Different isn’t me.’ Not it’s not ha Sadly last of Tim for this ep. *pouts*

Another telling scene for Lucy. Really really need s7 to clear these things up for her. Because despite being wonderfully empathetic human to Tim. She is still lost in life and not sure who she is. I NEED UC and some other things clarified for her next season. I really do. Just because she’s amazing at UC (and she is) doesn’t mean it’s her path. I do love this scene because it’s just Lucy being Lucy.

Having EIGHT covers ready to go. Our little nerd in action here. I adore it so much. It’s the most Lucy Chen thing she could do. Telling them it takes twelve off duty hours to grow. I love her so much. It’s not a mystery why Tim is so damn gone for her. Their faces as she explains cracks me up. Tim wouldn’t be shocked in the least. Hell I’m sure he was there while she was growing some of them.

The detective line is just another stab at our hearts though. Hoping for clarification and goodness for her career in s7. Manifesting it. As much as I need their reconciliation.(and I need it bad) I need her path resolved just as much tbh. For her to find her purpose and grow. Because once her and Tim do this. That reconciliation is gonna be even sweeter because of it.

I will say I was impressed with Nolan. Enjoy this it won’t last ha He handled investigating Blair really well. Rattling the cages of the potential dirty cops she was seeing just by showing up to her office. I forgot seasons 1-2 Nolan was a good cop. He just got really annoying after s3. LOL Also roping Smitty in was hilarious. He was already there for the food so might as well use him.

It’s the first time in what feels like a long time I enjoyed John. He enlists Nell too to help him with data from dispatch. Maybe it’s Bailey that makes him extra irritating to me. Lmao Sorry Jenna....lol Anyways quite the miracle Nolan pulled off in this ep getting me to like him. Not only that but commend him on the job he’s doing. Helping out Tim in a major way and I can’t deny that.

Nolan’s plan works out like gang busters. He went to her office to rattle a dirty cop into revealing himself. Pearson does it perfectly. Losing his mind about finding out they were in Mad Dog's apt. Like I said earlier I commend John on his work in this. Had Tim’s back and then some with his investigation. If they wrote him like this more wouldn’t dog on him so much lol

The other part that is so great is Grey. He is a papa bear ready to devour anyone messing with his work kids. This part was so cathartic to watch after earlier. Watching him dismantle Pearson like the schmuck he is. Was sick of him stomping around the station. Acting like he can just be top dog when he's really on a leash.

Rubbed me the wrong way being disrespectful to Tim and threatening Wade. Watching him attack Nolan/Celina is Grey's final straw. Puts that turd in his place. We watch him visibly shrink as Grey tears him a new asshole LOL All but telling him to stay in his own lane. Get em’ Wade! Nolan putting together the connection of Pearson and Blair due to this. Was fun to watch them piece this together.

Scenes like this give me agita like no other. My heart was beating in my chest for her. Lucy did a really good job despite the toy. Unfortunately it’s one of those loud musical ones. That not only gives away her position. But possibly her cover in the process. He find it’s on the floor. Looking menacing af. This man gives me the creeps on so many levels. I hated this mission for her on so many levels.

Unfortunately they’ll need her going back into the house. Now that Monica is in play it’s crucial she is there. Especially with Batista investigating who tried to kill her. Lucy is worried they’re going to blow her cover faster with her involved…But it’s a risk they have to take. If Tim knew about this he would be feral. Oh Feral Tim how I miss you. I need more 2x11 feral Tim in my life. That's a wishlist for s7 I suppose.

The ep ends with Nolan making a deal I’m not sure he can make lol But he was good in this episode so I’ll give him a pass. You can see how panicked she is. I am impressed John got her on this bench I will say. Getting her to almost spill her guts to him. Saying she didn’t think anyone would get hurt. That's what they all say....

I will say I missed Tim a lot in this ep after he was gone. That's my man. But it was a good episode. Reminded me of what a good ensemble cast we have as a whole. That's all she wrote for this one.

As always thank you to everyone for reading, liking, commenting and reblogging these means more than you’ll ever know. Shall see you all in the finale with 6x10 :)

~~~

Side notes-non Chenford

We get more insight in how Dr. London is being leveraged. Of course it’s a Monica connection because she is the absolute worst….

It’s great to see Pearson get nailed to the wall at the end of the ep. Prick.

[karlachismylife]

I Need a Hero

Yup, I wrote for the second most voted again. Why? Cuz I'm a danger to myself. Also because Gaz is pretty boy and I want to kiss him.

CW: gn!civilian!reader, probably not very realistic, toothrotting fluff for the pretty boy and the heroic prince Kyle.

(Title obviously from Bonnie Tyler's "Holding Out for a Hero")

You're beaming so bright, one could think it's you who's getting recognized and rewarded today - ironically, not for any of the terrifying world-saving missions, but for something small, an act of service Kyle didn't probably even notice in a chain of his usual bravery and heroism.

You noticed though. Every little thing, every feat and deed were carefully catalogued in your memory, even if he couldn't tell you anything besides "Was a rough one" or "Barely even did anything, angel". And today, finally, noticed others - Kyle, your Kyle, your sugarplum handsome pookie bear Kyle, was getting an award today. A nice, shiny reminder of all the good he's done to protect you and the country.

Of course he couldn't let you miss the ceremony. A few days prior you went shopping together and he bought you a nice outfit to match his, nothing too lavish, but definitely tasteful. Made you show it off before purchasing too, twirled you in front of the changing room and dropped a kiss on your knuckles.

To him, it's mostly a formality and a reason to show you off a little, but to you this whole day is about him. About that amazing, skilled man finally getting at least one percent of the praise he actually deserves. Sure, you know that his righteous Captain never takes his Gaz as granted and Kyle himself doesn't probably care for anyone else's recognition besides Price's and yours, but isn't it nice to have all these uniform-clad gentleman hold a ceremony in Sergeant Garrick's name?

"You look very good, handsome," you whisper quietly to him as you both stand in the narrow service corridor before you'll have to part your ways - Kyle has to come out on stage with several other officers getting awarded too. With loving hands, you adjust his collar and sigh dreamily as he catches your hands and kisses your fingertips. "Can I- oh," you have to scoot over a bit, a couple of stage workers shufflng through the narrow passage with some cables.

Kyle rubs your wrists gently, returning your attention back to him, and gives you a questioning nod, raising his eyebrows.

"You were saying, love?" You blink, once again (it'll never stop) struck by his beautiful features, and shake it off only when people start applauding out there.

The ceremony is about to begin.

"Just wanted to kiss you," you finally remember what it was that occupied your mind (as it always does, to be honest). Kyle's dark eyes sparkle with glee, but he still steals a look behind his shoulder, checking in case someone's out there looking for him.

"Here, right now?" he asks, turning back to you, and it's your turn to look puzzled. Chuckling, Kyle pecks your forehead quickly and lets go of your hands with visible whistfulness in his eyes. "Thought you'd like for me to give you a big smooch straight from stage, angel. Show everyone who's my biggest supporter."

And just like that, with a wink, he hurries away, leaving you to find your way back to your seat, cheeks warm with the imaginary picture of Kyle leaning from stage to recieve your congratulatory kiss. Can you really say no to that?

[oldbirdwithsomebrain]

that moment when glasses

saw this and immediatly knew i had to redraw it with medic

(dont mind the sketchyness i speedran this, and really didnt wanna clean this one)

Original under cut:

[microwaving-tesilid-argente]

reading the comments of OI stories is so unpleasant sometimes like 😭 i hate seeing people rage and curse at characters who aren't the protags. bro it's not their fault that they're antagonists and they're not even THAT annoying lmao

[urbanbirdbud]

it’s been. a very rough afternoon

[darkdragon768]

"Don't listen to yourself, you do want to have kids someday!" SHUT UP "You do want to start a family on your own!" SHUT UP "You do want to-" SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP YOU DON'T KNOW HOW I FEEL AND YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT I WANT SO STOP SAYING I'M CONFUSED OR HAVEN'T FOUND THE RIGHT ONE (emphasis on a male partner specifically because gendered language) YET OR ACTING LIKE YOU KNOW HOW I WANT TO LIVE MY LIFE

AND STOP FUCKING SAYING HAVING KIDS IS A WONDERFUL THING WHEN YOU'RE A NO-UTERUS-HAVER

I NEVER AND NEVER WILL TELL ANYONE MY GENDER THOUGHTS AND FEELINGS IF ALL I GET IN RETURN IS GETTING CALLED CRAZY AND STUPID

SO WHY DO I STILL TRY TO MAKE THEM UNDERSTAND WHEN IT'S FOR NOTHING.

[moonstruckme]

Hey Mae, congrats on 7k!!!! <3 Could I get Remus with apple pie, 25) a cold cement floor against skin?

Thanks for your request!

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 551 words

You’re spread-eagled on the cement floor of James and Lily’s garage. You’re worried you have sweat stains under your armpits, but not worried enough to hide them close to your body. No, you need all the contact with the cool ground you can get. 

“Um.” You strain your neck to look in front of you, but it’s only Remus. “You okay?” 

You let your head drop back to the floor. “Yeah,” you sigh. “S’nice in here.” 

“It is ungodly warm out.” He grunts quietly as he sits beside you. “If Sirius had shown up before the afternoon, we could’ve been done and inside by now.” 

James had asked you all over to help plant their new garden as a surprise for Lily when she comes home from her parents’. Poor Lily has been wanting to do it ever since they’d bought a house with a backyard, but she was first too busy and now too pregnant to be kneeling on the ground under the sun for hours. You’re not even pregnant and you worry it’s killing you, so really you’re glad the worst of the labor is being done for her. 

“I sat down to drink my water,” you gesture with your chin to the half-emptied cup at your side, “but the floor felt so cool I decided to lie for a bit. It gets a good breeze in here, feel?” 

“I feel it,” Remus agrees. His own hair is stuck to his forehead with sweat, but he lifts a hand to move yours, brushing damp strands away from your face. You close your eyes and hope your sigh conveys the appropriate gratitude. 

“I’ll get up and help in a second,” you promise. 

“That’s alright. Take your time.” His voice is an amused hum. “I didn’t come to fetch you, only to check on you.” 

“Have I been gone long?” 

“You don’t know?” 

“Might’ve fallen asleep.” You’re beginning to sound slurred even now, the cool floor against your skin lulling you into a trancelike relaxation. “I didn’t realize quite how hot I was until I came in here. You know?” 

Remus’ hum is tinged with worry. “Yeah, I think so. Sit up and have some water for me, lovely?” 

You push yourself up with a heavy sigh, picking up your cup. You worry you’ve left slippery sweat spots on the floor. “I’m okay,” you reassure him. 

“That’s good.” He lifts the hair off your neck, holding it in one hand so the air cools your nape. “Maybe you can have another water, just to be safe. We’ll bring them for everyone on our way back out.” 

“That’s a good idea.” 

“Hello?” Sirius comes around from the back, peering at the two of you. “You’re just slacking off without me, are you? I didn’t know we were having a break.” 

“You had your break in the morning when we were here and you weren’t,” Remus reminds him. 

“Oh, James is all by himself out there now.” You force yourself up, your thighs sticking to the floor. “I’ll go help him.” 

“Just bring him back for some water,” Remus says after you. “We could all use a breather.” 

“I swear,” Sirius grouses, “if he hasn’t stocked his freezer full of ice pops to compensate us for all this, I’m not going back out.”

[dredshirtroberts]

i did the biggest and scariest of the things on my list (the last thign on my list in fact) and it took like. MAYBE 5 minutes total including login time navigation and page loading.

now i get to have fancy Oreo Poptarts because i'm a big strong boy whose knee is slightly dislocated (it's fine i just went too hard and i'll wrap it up here in a minute) and did a big scary thing and also now gets to fully devote brain power to anxiety about the (potential) hole between two of my heart chambers and the accompanying doctor's appointment tomorrow morning.

[dawnwriterimagines]

The Guilty Plea

SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY x FEM!READER TASK FORCE 141 x FEM!READER

Traitors Among Us (Part 1) and Innocents Among You (Part 2)

Verdict Due (Part 4)

Summary: As you're discharged from the infirmary, under watchful eye, you head to Laswell to talk on the rest of your now ruined military career. Of course, you're forced to confront your team as it happens, the last people on earth you'd like to see.

If you liked this would you Buy me a Coffee?

---

Running your fingers along the raised, pink scar across you cheek, the feeling of it...it really looked terrible. A part of you thought it would disappear, hoped it would, but it didn't. It just became severely more noticeable. Looking at this, you knew you'd always have to think of it. You'd sport this reminder for the rest of your life.

Looking away from it, you find your own tired eyes in the mirror, you haven't been sleeping well. Or at all. You can't remember the last time you got 4 hours, let alone 8. Dark circles still surrounded them but at least the bruising and the swelling had gone down.

You couldn't recognize yourself. Not really.

This woman looked so exhausted, so frail and so goddamn angry. It was accurate, it was how you felt. All of it. So, you supposed that the mirror's reflection was the truth, this was you indeed.

"If you need another day or two, no one will ask questions."

You glance over towards your psychologist, your fucking therapist, a nice little 'gift' sent over by the bureau to check in on your mental state after your ordeal. Glaring at him through the reflection of your mirror, he sighs, putting down his pen that slaps against his notepad, "I can't help you if you don't talk to me."

"I'm going to Laswell." Ignoring his statement, you speak. "I'm ready. I'll pack up. Get back to base. Vera had me discharged from the infirmary. I can start ov--"

"Vera?"

"My nurse. You met her," you continued, annoyance spiking at the interruption. Your wrist brace squeaking quietly under the pressure of your fist tightening beneath the table.

"Right..."

"Do you listen to a word I say outside of...my 'trauma'?" You wonder, bluntly.

Your psychologist blinks, surprised, before clearing his throat, appalled. "If you feel I can be more attentive to your state of well-being throughout our process, than by all means--"

"Oh, so 'no'?" you lean back into your seat, a strained laugh leaving you. His lips press together and you continue before he can find the words. "Because whenever I mention leaving this fucking team, you either adjust our schedule for another two weeks or suggest hypnotic therapy, as if I need anyone else digging around to fuck up my mental state."

"I never meant to imply--"

"Oh, you implied it," you interrupted, gritting your teeth. "I know what I want. And I want off Task Force 141."

He taps at the leather of his notebook. "Scars heal, just remember that, Ms. (L/n). The reminders of your experience shouldn't have to haunt you."

"It's not the scars, I've had my share way before this," you admitted, rising to your feet. You exhale deeply that tells to the effort of it, the steel gear hinges along your leg braces shift with your change of position. Still getting use to them. "It's the person."

"Has she changed, you think?" the psychologist begins to write, getting somewhere.

"She doesn't exist anymore."

Finally, placing the mirror down and onto the side table, you pushed off of the table, rolling your IV pole along with you. Passing the chair your psychologist sits on, he closes his notebook with a frustrated huff, looking over his shoulder. "Session over for you already, Ms. (L/n)?" he sighs. "We've still got the hour."

"I'm done," you take the knob in your hand. Turning.

In more ways than one.

"You understand that, informing your captain on your leave is required of you. Have you spoken to any of them, in the last few weeks?" he spoke up, quickly. "I'm sure giving them a space to open up, share from their view--"

"Why should I care--"

"--will give you better understanding, better clarity of the situation they were in--

Appalled. "What the fuck?" Jamming the door closed with a loud, shuttering thud, you whip around. "IT'S NOT ABOUT THEM!" you could just rip your hair out. "Who--who says that to someone?!"

Your psychologist sits there, eyes wide in confusion. "What--"

"Christ, can you hear me? Can you--can you see me? I've got metal plates in my spine, braces holding my knees in place and nerve damage that'll never heal! Who gives a fuck about them!" your skin feels red hot, your face twisted in rage. "I gave my life! My life to this! And then I'm tortured, I'm threatened, drugged and beaten by my own team, my f--my family for eight fucking years..."

You continue with a heavy chest. "And I'm supposed to invite them for dinner to talk and listen them bitch and moan about why they thought it was necessary to beat me to death for two weeks?! Fuck you!" you spat. "I don't owe them anything!"

"That's not what I was trying to say, Ms. (L/N). I apologize, I overstepped. Come sit down--"

"Of course you meant it," you interrupted, mock humor. "Don't be a pussy, own up to it. Revel in your truth. Be tter yet--" you snatch a journal from the cabinet. Tossing it his way. "Make a note of it."

Turning the knob, you leave the room with a slam of the metal door.

---

You were officially famous. On the base, you were now a legend.

A story that would be mentioned and told at lunch for months. Probably years.

First, you were a rat. Next, you were innocent. This was the most gossip any of those in service had ever seen in their years of service.

An interesting reminder to those in service that you weren't safe off duty either.

You learned a few days ago that there was an update put into the interrogational unit, something about how to properly go about dissecting evidence and being on the lookout for enemy spies in the militia.

You guessed you had been told about it in an effort to be appeased by the thought that the head of control paid attention to anything beyond their own noses for once. But, you had little to no faith in a system that's nearly killed you on and off the field by now, so it didn't matter.

You doubted the new rules would be followed though, there was a plethora of things they'd done to you in that cell that were both illegal and unsanctioned. Most of all, that were expected towards an enemy, a prisoner of war at best, and not a fellow marine.

You arrive at the housing quarters, swiping your key card, pulling the handle and entering the wing. Immediately, you're greeted by a dozen eyes, conversations stopping short and clothes ruffling to silence, suddenly whispers fill the space and eyes turn away.

"Oh, god, it's her..." says one man in the far corner.

"Shut the fuck up, man!" came a harsh whisper back.

"I didn't know it was that bad..."

All those eyes on you, makes you pause in your step, looking around at all of your fellow soldiers, the men and women you've served with for years. Many you recognized, ate with, fought beside that turned their backs to you now. Out of respect? Out of distaste, morale, nerves, pity, it all didn't matter. It all felt the same.

The wheels attached to your IV pole suddenly sounded much too loud on the polished flooring, as you walked down the hall as fast as you were able to.

Breathing out deeply, you get to an elevator, pushing on the button, once, twice, three times, just open goddamn it.

With a ding, the metal doors open, and suddenly you're aware that people could be in the elevator, they could be in this elevator, he could be in this elevator. Your eyes flicker down to the floor, your grip on the pole of your iv tightens, your shoulders stiffen, waiting for a blow that will never come.

You stand there as the doors open up, the small space empty, the metal walls reflect only her and a streak of lighting from the ceiling.

Looking up slowly, finally taking a breath, before sliding the iv up and onto the elevator, following it as you press your floor number along the way.

The ride up is fast, a little rumble as it stops, and then the doors open. Faster than you were prepared for.

Peeking out down the hallway, luckily no one to bump into, which you were thankful for. But, it didn't make this hall any less haunting. You'd been cornered in this same hall, you could recall being hauled out of the room after the solid handle of a knife hits your temple.

You don't go down fast enough, whipping around as you stumble to take the wrist of your attacker, mostly for balance, it's Price. In shock, you're unprepared as Johnny's arm encircle your neck, locking you into position as you both stumble backwards onto the floor. He blocks your airways, hushing you harshly as you struggle, feet kicking out and your vision blurring as your team surrounds you. Your family.

That was quite the headache to wakeup with afterwards.

You hadn't quite remembered until now. Being back served as a hell of a kickstart to your memory.

Just a few more reasons to get the fuck off of 141.

Getting off the elevators, the metal doors sliding closed behind you, you make your way down the hall. The polished flooring creates a subtle squeak through the wheels of your iv pole, your hand absently running over the fading stitches along your side.

Passing the shadows of your tortured memory, the doorway of the office was closed, locked.

You pass Kyle's room.

Johnny's.

Finally, you rush up to the next room on the left, grabbing the handle, before beginning to twist, but then you're yanking your hand back as if the metal had burned you. Your back ramming into the back wall, catching yourself, this wasn't your room.

It was Simon's.

You'd spent hours, days, in that room. More than your own.

Why wouldn't you? You were about to get married to the man. You had more in this room than you had in yours.

Sharp breaths leave you, shivering in your effort to keep yourself together, your head goes back into the wall, swallowing down the ache in your chest.

You wait, muscles tensed and your body pressing back into the wall, hoping it'd absorb you if that door opens. Listening for every sound, any pin drop, even an exhale from beyond that doorway. Luckily, Simon seemed to be out for the day.

Hurriedly, nearly running, you steady yourself against the wall as you rush down to the corner of the hallway, finally finding your room.

Turning the handle, it's not locked, it's broken. It opens with ease.

Entering the room slowly, pushing the doorway aside, the crackle of glass beneath your boots as you step forwards, clothes and picture frames laying scattered.

The mattress flipped and ripped open, springs and cotton cut from it. Your wall of metals and certificates, from acts of bravery and mementos of valor, discarded, later you'd find them in the trash, one with a bullet lodged into the gold.

Sniffling as you leaned down, picking a specific frame off the ground, the only one that hadn't been broken. Laying along the ruined rug, with no care for the glass digging through your jeans, you stare at the still shot of your family.

The only family you had outside of Task Force 141, your father and his sister, military brats themselves, until their retirement. Your mother had passed, or just up and left, days after your 5th birthday, you weren't completely sure, the story kept changing every year. But, these two were the only family you've ever known, ever had, until you joined the military, following in their footsteps.

They'd been so proud when you arrived back after your first assignment, in truth you were heavily traumatized, but seeing them, you just had to smile. Having a family that understood the harsh toll on the line of a trooper, now a lieutenant, it was always easier to bring your troubles to them. But, they were also military nuts so "suck it up" was also a quick go to answer from your aunt, while your father was the smoother talker.

They had met Simon, loved him, his rank, his love for you, his seriousness. They trusted him completely with your heart.

So, when he called them, after the evidence leaked...

They believed him.

"What're you talking about?" You took the handle of the chair in your grip, easing you down into it as your legs do weak at what you were hearing. "I didn't...I didn't do it, Dad."

"Do you know how humiliating and disappointing--how it felt to hear him say that to me, hm?" he says, static crackles on the reciever. "My daughter...my own flesh and blood...working with terrorists--"

"I'm not working with anyone! Are you-" you huff out a breath of disbelief. "Are you even listening to me? I've never betrayed the code. How can you think that way of me?"

For a moment, he's silent. "Alright, then," he began. "Than, what'd you do? huh?"

"What--what..."

"Oh, come on, (Y/n)!" your father yells. "What did you do?! What could they possibly have had on you that made you the most likely target? You had to have had done something, been somewhere, were with somebody you weren't supposed to be with! They didn't just get that information from anywhere."

"What the fuck--" Your expression twists with frustration and misery, running your hand through your hair, pulling at it. "I've sacrificed every part of myself for this job, for this team, what do I have to gain from throwing that all away? They send me everywhere, places you've never heard of, places you'll never hear about and people you'll never have to meet, because of me! Why would you just believe Simon? Why couldn't you just wait to talk to me?!"

Hearing your father scoff at your words was painful. "What reason do I have not to believe him? He knows you, maybe even better than any of us. Besides, he was going to be my son in law--"

"I'm your daughter! Fuck Simon, what about me? You'd believe him instead?"

He sighs. "Listen, you're upsetting Cass. We didn't expect your call. I gotta make this brief..."

"You're upset?" pulling at your hair, sucking in sharply. "I'm the one who's permanently fucking altered here. What do either of you have to be upset about?!"

"Watch your fucking mouth!" he seethes. The anger in his voice isn't new, but the way he spits it at you is. "You did this to yourself, I didn't. Maybe that's what your nightmares were about, am I right? Your guilt?"

Wiping the streaks of tears that had fallen down your face, lips quivering and chest aching with sobs you frustratedly shoved down. "Why don't you believe me?"

"I don't deserve the disgrace that will come with you as my kin, I've lived my part of this war. No daughter of mine should even be in this fucking position," your father spat, disgusted into the receiver. Suddenly, he was the cruel, bitter old man your mother had always known him to be, you wished she had stayed to at least remind you of that. Maybe it wouldn't have hurt as much. "You should be ashamed of yourself, but at least you got yourself out it. The least you could do for us."

"Well--what does that mean?" you spoke, quietly.

"Don't call again..."

"Dad, no--" you break this time, a sob escaping you.

"Me and your Aunt Cass..."

"Daddy please, don't do this--"

"..We've decided to cut ties. We're not taking any heat from this, you're on your own," he finishes, clearing his throat, waiting a moment, listening to the pleads and cries of his only daughter, his once pride. "You take care of yourself. Goodbye, kid."

"Why can't you just believe me? Why?!" you cried.

"Don't come to the house."

"No, no,--" the line goes dead. And staring down at your phone, his caller id going blank and the call disconnecting.

Your phone all of a sudden feels heavy, the device and your hand falling down to your thigh, before the phone slips out of your grip and onto the floor. You sit there silently, until your tears drop up and even after.

Staring at the photo now was haunting in its own way, it was just another painful reminder.

Using the bed frame to stand to your feet, your grip on the frame is painful as you squeeze it, the glass cracks audibly.

"Bonnie..."

Whipping around at the sound of John MacTavish's voice, you back up a few steps at the sight of him, your back hitting the edge of your desk.

He reaches out as you stumble, before his fingers curl back into his palm as you find your balance, his hands receding back to his sides. He doesn't enter the room, just lingering just beyond the doorway, his eyes flickering around the room, guiltily.

"I didn't know--we didn't know you were out," he speaks quietly, as opposed prideful personality that translated into his voice usually.

You say nothing.

In the dark, your eyes are wide and your shoulders are tensed up, he can see the glint of your leg braces, the iv pole at the side, the scar beneath your eye. You looked terrified to see him.

"We were coming back to clean up today, just got back from...from a mission..." he stutters on his words, shifting his feet.

"It's been a week."

His lips press together hearing your voice. "I know..." Johnny glances around at the room he'd let those officers destroy, it hadn't been them, but they might as well had done it. "I know...we just...didn't know it was so bad."

"Really?" your voice is mockingly sweet, drawing out the word. "You didn't know? Well look..." you hold up your family photo, the light in the hallway catching on the glass. "You missed one."

Your hand dropping, the heavy frame comes down just as fast, ramming into the ground, the glass practically exploding on impact.

Johnny flinches, the photo of your family...He looks back to you, surprised. "Bonnie..."

Snatching the next closest thing from your desk, a ceramic cup. "Oh, wow, can't believe you guys missed this one," you chuck it into the wall. It breaks on impact, the remains scatter along the flipped mattress and onto the floor. "That used to be my favorite mug by the way."

The Scotsman worriedly steps forwards, 'Lass, I'm sorry--"

"FUCK YOU!" you spat, coming into the light. You're sure you look deranged, and you didn't care. You could've wrapped your hands around his throat, killed him right on the floor and you wouldn't have blinked. "It doesn't mean anything! 'I'm sorry', 'I'm sorry', 'I'm sorry', over and over and over again! As if you shouldn't be! Your apologies mean fuck all."

"I know...I know," he breathes. "But, I've gotta say it anyway, bonnie. I should've believed you, there was no reason not to. I know that now. I just--"

"Believe me!" you cut him off with a yell. "Trust me! Fucking 'HELP ME'!" you screamed with the same fever as your days in the interrogation room, that terrible cell, the cold, the burn and pain. "I cried it all to you, to all of you, and nobody came. Nobody came for me," you breathe in sharply. "It doesn't matter what you should've done. You didn't do it!"

Johnny's eyes are red, he opens his mouth, closes it and then swallows down whatever chokes him up as he looks at you. "I should've came for you. I wish I did. I wanted to, Bonnie..." he steps forwards, and you recede back away from him, your eyes narrowed with violence. "I'll never forgive myself for not listening to you. For not coming to help you. For laying a hand on you. I'm so sorry, (Y/n). I'm sorry..."

I'll never forgive myself... "That makes two of us," you assured.

Johnny's eyes widen, before they close, his guilt ever consuming. He can't help but understand, to respect your decision, to know things can never be ok again. "(Y/n)...."

Grabbing hold of the nearest thing, a pencil cup, you hurl it at Johnny. He doesn't put his hands up, flinching as it hits him, the metal clinking against his kevlar, eyes closing then opening, he stands still. "I don't forgive. I don't accept your apology. I don't fucking care about it!" with each sentence you throw something else his way, a broken frame, the trash bin, a pillow, the CD player.

His hand has to come up for the knife you unsheathe, a memento from one of your missions, it's rusted, ancient probably. But, you hadn't given it up to a museum or to pawn, you had nearly died on this mission, saving Johnny ironically. You had to keep it.

Seeing the weapon, his defensive position is instinctive but his hands drop just as fast, he understands, you need this. You deserve this. "If you need to..." he speaks. Your eyes flicker up to him, away from the knife. "If you need to, I get it..."

And you need to. You really fucking do.

Your grip on the knife is dangerously hard, it hurts.

Looking at Johnny, he'd been your brother in more than a few ways on and off the field, he had been your comfort, your friend, your family. You had bled with him, held onto him as he carried you from the battlefield, joked, laughed, screamed and cried. You've loved him for years.

He'd had a rough few nights you could see that. He was quieter, reserved. Almost as terrified to see you, as you had been of him.

And you could kill him right now and never bat an eye.

And so, throwing that knife was so fucking easy.

Johnny's eyes close as you do just that, fists clenching and teeth biting down on his tongue to prepare for the pain.

The ancient weapon whiz's through the air, the sound is sharp and he knows it will cut through him like butter.

The thud rings in the room, and Johnny's eyes blow open wide, holding his breath as he collapses to his knees, before turning to you.

You dig into the pile of clothes that had been cast aside, a pair of sneakers and a new shirt. You don't look at him a single time as you take it all, stuffing them in a bag, and leaving the room, passing him completely, a limp in your step.

Johnny releases a pained breath, tears finally leaving him as he looks up, the knife lodged into the frame of the doorway, just barely missing him. The sleeve of his uniform ripped open.

He sits there in the quiet, destroyed room. A testimony to the relationship he's destroyed between you.

Part 4!! OUT NOW

[bbokicidal]

"I Don't Have A Girlfriend." - H.H [SKZ]

Summary : In which you go with Hyunjin to get his wisdom teeth removed.

Warnings : Hyunjin all doped up at the dentist for shits n giggles, felix/seungmin/changbin laughing at him, teasing banter, mention of binnie's bday gift from minho

"What year is it?"

"2024. Halfway through, baby." You laugh, hand coming up to the arm of the chair he lays in to rest there in case he tries to move around. And he does, sitting himself up a bit as if he's worried he's late for something.

Hyunjin huffs out a breath through his nose, turning his head to look at you. You can't deny that he looks god awful and adorable at the same time; Hair tousled, eyes puffy with sleep and cheeks swollen far more than usual from the medication and procedure he'd just undergone. "How long was I asleep?"

You pull your notification tab down with the tip of your index finger to check. "They put you under about an hour and a half ago, so you were asleep for.. I don't know, twenty minutes after they were done?"

"Twenty..." His voice trails off, soft and grumbly from just waking up. His lips press together before parting again, forced open by the gauze in his mouth and cheeks. His head turns towards the door and then down to the thin blanket placed over his body. Slowly, he begins to relax back into the chair.

Your hand comes up to rest along his cheek, brushing over the skin just barely before moving to pull hair back from his face. He blinks tiredly and keeps his eyes down, focused on the way his hands move under the blanket as he tries to pull it up further towards his shoulders. "Feeling okay, bubs?"

He huffs again, sighing out in what seems like distress that he's too sleepy to truly convey. "I have to go soon."

"Go where, baby?" You chuckle, curious on where his mind was wandering as the drugs slowly wore off.

His lips smack once, twice, and he blinks open his eyes again to look at you. It's a silly sight, his head tipped down toward the blanket and face pudgy with the angle. "I have a dinner date later. With ..."

You smile. "We rescheduled our dinner date for next week, Jinnie, remember? We'll have that dinner date eventually, don't worry."

"No.."

"No?" You grin this time, giggling out when he seems to reject the dinner offer. "You don't want to go on a dinner date with your girlfriend, baby?"

A few chuckles come from the screen of your phone. You'd facetimed Felix as soon as he'd asked you to after you'd told him Hyunjin was waking up. He insisted he needed to see what his hyung would be like all doped up at the dentist. So at the present moment, Felix's left eye and Seungmin's forehead fill the screen - and you know Changbin is lingering somewhere in the background.

Hyunjin clicks his tongue before his nose crinkles in careful regret. He adjusts in the chair, tugging the blanket fully up to his chin as he hums out. "I don't have a girlfriend."

Seungmin's laugh breaks the soft silence that fills the room and Hyunjin peeks open an eye in confusion as to where it came from.

"I'm your girlfriend, Jinnie." You remind him in a playful tone, still laughing through it all. Your hand finds his under the blanket and as the words settle in, his brows crinkle together.

"Uh, no." He blinks a few times at you, lips pursing. "I have a wife waiting for me at home. You can't be my girlfriend."

Your expression falls deadpan - but it all seemed worth it when Changbin's laughter exploded from your phone speaker, mixed with the sound of Felix dropping his phone as he fell to the floor cackling and Seungmin hitting the couch cushions in amusement.

Your eyes roll and you look back to your boyfriend, amused. "Right. Forgot you were married."

His lips purse once more, tongue sliding over them slowly as he realizes they're numbed still, before his eyes slip back shut in peace. "Mhm. My wife has pink underwear, too."

"Your wife has WHAT?"

[zriasstuff]

Them after especially rough ykyk

Slytherin boys x reader (hcanons, aged up to 18 years old)

Warnings: soft smut, 16+ I’d say (?), on my shit again after a long time I’m sorry, no Draco and idc if he’s the original slytherin boy, go on Wattpad if you want Draco bc there’s enough of him on there /jk but not rlly

Theodore Nott:

you’d be incredibly flushed afterwards, panting and still holding onto the sheets for dear life

your eyes closed, lips swollen and slightly hanging open, trying to get yourself down from your high

he’d immediately hover over you (still undressed, only in boxers), both his arms on your side to support himself

“fucked you a little too good, didn’t I?”, he’d cockily ask and he’d just gently stroke your flushed cheeks with his thumb

you would counter, but your throat felt too hoarse from all the obscene noises he had coaxed out of you

“c’mon let’s get you cleaned up, you did so well for me”/“you are always so good for me, my perfect girl” he’d praise you, knowing you would let him do it all over again just for him to call you his good girl

Tom Riddle:

with Tom it’s never soft, bu when you have a especially rough session with him, it is rough

afterwards you’d most likely still be tied up by your wrists, or facing downward with your face on a pillow, insides feeling twisted and hypersensitive

you would barely be able to move and especially your legs would be quivering if you tried to get up

Tom definitely knows when you’ve reached your limits, but sometimes he actively pushes those to remind you of your place, you are there for his pleasure

He isn’t the praise type, but he’d quietly clean up and allow you to cuddle him, but only if he felt completely fulfilled

Matthew Riddle:

usually it’s a mix of rough and soft with him, but both of you need those rough sessions sometimes for a complete stress release

afterwards he’d worship you from top to bottom, leaving soft kisses from your jaw to your stomach

he’d rub over all the hickeys he left, the bruised spots and your plump (fuvked out) lips of course

while stroking your hair he would tell you how much he loved you and how amazing it was with you

he’d help you get up and go to the shower, having a soft make out session in there of course, and afterwards do whatever you wanted

mostly it’d just be cuddling or talking

Blaise Zabini:

knowing that you didn’t use your safe word, he’d still ask if you were alright

after making sure, and checking up on you he’d make you sit up and sip some water (somehow he’d always insists that)

“you think you can handle one more?”, he’d jokingly ask to make you smile after having made you (s)cream

he’d want to discuss what went well and what could be improved upon, to fuck you even better next time

although that sounds like a joke, he means it fully

when you tell him that he couldn’t possibly make you feel better, or how good he is, he just smirks, knowing no one could do what he does

Lorenzo Berkshire:

he’d totally tease you so much, especially if you begged for him to go rougher

“I knew my princess liked it rough”/“just needed someone to fuck you into your place didn’t you”/“look at you, all fucked out like some slut, and enjoying it too”

of course he’d make sure you were alright too, asking whether he went too hard

“it’s hard to control myself when it comes to you y’know”, he’d seductively murmur in his deep voice, while caressing your body

after being especially rough, he would want to be the perfect boyfriend the entire week, attending to your every wish; basically golden retriever behavior