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leclerc-hs · 21 days

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tachycardia pt.2 - cl16

pairing: doctor!charles leclerc x nurse!reader (alpha/omega au) summary: in which you don't always get along with the arrogant alpha doctor warnings: LIGHT a/b/o dynamics, angst??, none really (yet!), badly translated French (didn't really put french in this), NOT PROOFREAD word count: 1.5k author's note: hi!!!!!! did you miss me??? I missed all of you! sorry this is SO short but I wanted to post something in honor of reaching 2,000 FOLLOWERS!!! I love u all sm and I'm sorry this is kinda shit. I've been in a really bad writing funk recently but I'm hoping to get out of it. don’t forget to talk to me and don’t be shy I love to hear from all of you!!!! I will try to get the ball rolling on this series as soon as I can. I just kinda started it without even knowing where I wanted it to go so I'm kinda just winging it as I write with whatever comes to mind. if you have anything you would like to see happen in this series PLEASE don’t be shy and let me know I love to hear your thoughts and ideas!!!! xoxo taglist: @amalialeclerc @barcelonaloverf1life @charizznorizz @magicpancake @zabwlky1999

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

AS YOU SIT across from your younger sister in the cozy confines of the café adjacent to the bustling hospital, you can’t help but marvel at the enigmatic workings of her mind.

“Is it really like that? Sex in the on-call rooms?” The question bursts forth accompanied by a hearty laugh, your body leaning forward in laughter.

“How many times do I have to tell you no?” You retort, meeting her gaze with an air of firmness amidst the playful banter.

“What about in the locker room?” She presses further, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

“No, and stop indulging in such ludicrous fantasies.” You respond, bringing your cup of coffee to your mouth, you pause before taking a sip. “You know well enough that I don’t engage in relationships with doctors.” A fleeting sense of contentment washes over you with the warmth of the coffee.

She emits a deep sigh, deeply annoyed. “Are any of them at least cute?”

You feel your stomach churn as the image of Doctor Leclerc floods your thoughts. He’s far more than just attractive. You hesitate for a beat, staring at her wide, expectant eyes. “Yes.”

Her eyes light up almost instantly. “Who?”

“I forget. I don’t really know him.” Liar.

“What does he look like?”

“Brown hair. Very green eyes.” Your fingers twiddle with the napkin on the table, feigning disinterest.

She gives you a skeptical look as if she can read your mind and tell you’re lying. But she doesn’t push further. “When do you have to be back?”

You briefly glance at the time on the screen of your phone, “Shit.” Rising abruptly, you shove the chair back with a jolt, shooting your sister an apologetic glance. “I have to go. I’ll see you at mom’s this weekend?”

You’re already pushing the front door of the café open by the time you hear your sister half-shout, “Yes!”

You burst into your patient’s room, breaths coming in ragged gasps, cheeks flushed with exertion. You say a silent prayer to whatever higher power that he wasn’t here yet.

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”

Did you mention that this particular patient has a knack for hitting on you?

Your heart skips a beat, and if it weren’t for the already flushed hue of your cheeks, you’re certain the blush creeping up on your neck would be glaringly obvious.

“Mr.,” You pause to glance at the chart to double-check his name, “Mr. Hart, how are you feeling today?”

“Meilleur, now that you’re here.” Better. You curl your lips upward into a soft smile, jokingly rolling your eyes at his antics.

“Surely you’re sick of seeing my face, Mr. Hart.” You quip, reaching for a stool beside his bed while simultaneously checking his IV bags. “Today’s the day I think!”

Mr. Hart has been in the hospital for over a week, recovering from a surgery for a atrial septal defect.

“Jamais.” Never. He insists, his head sinking back against the pillow as his gaze follows your every movement. “I’m so close to being able to ask you out properly.”

In that moment, a new scent permeates the air, distinct and alluring. Without even turning around, you sense his presence—the man who just breezed in behind you. Whether he heard the exchange or not, you weren’t sure, but the subtle shift in the atmosphere is palpable regardless.

“Mr. Hart,” His voice, deep and honeyed, washes over you, almost too sweet to be genuine. “Still stirring up trouble for our lovely nurses?” Despite the playful tone, you can sense an undercurrent of something morecalculated beneath his words. His presence radiates warmth, his tall figure looming beside you, close enough to make your skin prickle with awareness.

“No,” Mr. Hart grins. “Just her.”

Doctor Leclerc’s smile remains fixed, but you catch the subtle clench of his jaw as you turn your head to meet his gaze. “Just stopping by to let you know that we might need to keep you for another night.”

The news catches you off guard; you were under the impression that Mr. Hart would be discharged by the end of the day. As if he could sense the questions brewing in your mind, Doctor Leclerc continues, his voice reassuring. “Just a precautionary measure. I assure you; we’ll have you cleared to leave bright and early tomorrow morning.”

Mr. Hart hums nonchalantly, as if the prospect of another night in the hospital doesn’t bother him in the slightest. His attention remains fixated on you as you inspect the sutures on his chest, his fingertips grazing against your gloved hand with a deliberate touch. “Can’t complain as long as she’s the one checking on me.”

You let out a small laugh, but don’t say anything, as you stand up and remove the gloves to toss them in the waste bin nearby.

“Mr. Hart,” Doctor Leclerc’s voice is unamused now. “You would be wise to refrain your hands from touching her again. Next time I won’t ask so politely.”

Pressed against a wall while in the presence of Doctor Leclerc seems to be a common occurrence nowadays. His tall frame blocking any potential onlookers from seeing who he had cornered.

“Dis-moi,” Tell me. His voice is low, lethal. “Do you flirt with patients often, hm?”

“What is your problem?” You quip, your brows furrowed as you crane your neck back to look him in the eyes.

“My problem?” He scoffs, leaning closer to your face, his lips thinned in annoyance. “My problem is that I have to stand there and watch a patient flirt with you,” He clicks his tongue in frustration, turning his head to look away for a brief moment. Giving you a moment, to take in the sharpness of his jawline, and the unshaven scruff that shadows it. “And you…” His voice trailed off.

“And I, what?” You pulled your lips into a slight frown.

“You smell like that,” His hands wavered around your body, in an exasperated manner.

“Smell like what?”

As he shook his head in disbelief, a mixture of frustration and something deeper etched acoss his features. The disbelief seemed to stem from his inability to fathom that you were completely unaware of something soevident to him. It was that scent, the sweet floral scent that always accompanied you. It drove him mad sometimes. How it was almost the only thing he could focus on sometimes.

With a disapproving click of his tongue, he took a deliberate step back, as if needed physical distance to collect his thoughts.

Ignoring your inquiry, his gaze softened, the intensity in his eyes giving way to a gentler expression as they locked on yours.

Caught off guard by the swift change in his demeanor, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of whiplash from the abrupt shift.

“I wouldn’t say often,” you began, punctuating the order with a slight shrug. “It’s all harmless.”

His response was solemn, his voice carrying a weight of protectiveness that left no room for misinterpretation. “I don’t want them to put their hands on you ever again,” he declared firmly. “If you ever have issues, you can come to me.”

His words resonated with a gravity that made it clear he meant every syllable, his stance unwavering in its determination to shield you from harm.

Your throat tightened as you swallowed, acutely aware of the intensity in his gaze tracing the delicate curve of your neck.

“Moving forward, I will be the one to check on Mr. Hart,” he announced, his voice carrying a note of authority softened by a touch of concern.

With a deliberate motion, he extended his arm, his fingers brushing against your skin as he gently tucked a strand of loose hair behind your ear.

The proximity of his touch sent a rush of warmth to your cheeks, the tenderness in his gesture catching you off guard, yet somehow soothing in its unexpectedness. Dr. Leclerc’s presence seemed to envelop you whenever he was near. As if nothing else in the world existed no matter the premise of the discussion, including the constant bickering you two always seemed to do.

“Will you be at James’ retirement party?” The question slipped from your lips before you could fully weigh its significance. Yet, deep down, you knew the answer matters more to you than you cared to admit. You found yourself wanting him to be there, though the reasons remained elusive, even to yourself.

Yes, he was an ass to you most of the time. But, for some reason you couldn’t really fathom, he was always in the forefront of your mind.

His head tilted slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing his features. Though he would never openly confess, the idea of attending hadn’t crossed his mind until that moment. However, if there was even the slightest chance that you would be there, he couldn’t bring himself to refuse.

“Yes,” he replied simply, the single word carrying more weight than its brevity suggested.

You nodded slowly, as if processing his response required a deeper level of understanding. “See you there?” You ventured, the question hanging in the air, pregnant with unspoken implications.

He nodded, pulling his lips into the faintest smirk.

“See you there, mon lapin.”

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc #charles leclerc smut #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fic #f1 imagine

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earlgreydream · 1 month

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gods, I’m so sorry. this has been in my drafts since APRIL 2023…. I’m finally getting to it, thanks so much for this sweet request ♥️

requested: bucky needing to have a hand on you (stroking ur hair, hand on ur knee, etc) at all times after he nearly loses u 🥺 to reassure u that ure safe and he's there but mostly to reassure himself

The silence was deafening, and it was so dark. Had it always been this way? James couldn’t remember. The Brooklyn apartment didn’t feel like a home anymore. It was empty without you, your absence ripping the essence of life from his home.

He sighed, not bothering to turn on the light. James didn’t have any intention to stay, the emptiness held an eerie feeling that he just couldn’t shake. He almost forgot what he’d gone home for — to get a change of clothes before heading back to the Tower, to wait for you.

James felt like he should have been out looking. You’d been missing for weeks — disappearing on a mission with Sam, to gather intel. There wasn’t supposed to be any real danger, he would never have let you go if he was worried about a threat to your safety.

“We need to go back, they found her,” Steve’s voice cut through the silence, and Bucky’s heart seized at his words.

“Is she alive?”

The first thing your mind registered was pain. There was a dull, heavy throbbing in every part of your body. When you tried to open your eyes, everything was too bright, and a terrible beeping worsened your splitting headache.

You blinked away the fog in your vision, a hospital room slowly coming into focus. James stood up from a chair in the corner and ran to your side, speaking frantically. You couldn’t understand him, it sounded like his voice was underwater, unclear and garbled.

Panic surged through your chest when you looked down to see an IV in your arm, and you registered the tubes on your face that were meant to help you breathe. You clawed at the IV in your arm, nails scratching your skin as you attempted to rip the needle out.

“Stop, please, baby,” James begged, grabbing your wrist to keep you from accidentally hurting yourself.

“James?” You rasped, the fear in your voice breaking his heart.

“I’m here. You’re safe, you’re in the hospital at Stark Tower. Nothing can hurt you anymore,” he promised, the words sounding clearer in your head this time.

Your chest heaved and tears started to leak down your cheeks, whimpering as a nurse emptied a sedative into your system.

James held your hand, so the nurse didn’t cuff your wrists to the bed. Your memory was foggy, but your body remembered what you’d been through — your heart rate monitor beginning to scream as the nurse talked about restraining you.

“Get out. Just get out!” James shouted, one of the few times you’d ever seen him with tears running down his face.

You began to fade as the sedative kicked in, the room quieting once it was just you and James. He listened to your shallow breathing, gently rubbing his thumb across your forearm, needing to touch you as he sat next to the bed. He had to have his hands on you, to remind himself you were there, safe.

“Don’t leave me,” you begged softly, your trembling hand laying over his.

“I won’t leave you, I promise… just get some rest, okay?” He kissed your knuckles, gazing at you with wet blue eyes.

“I can stay with her, so you can go home, change, sleep in your own bed?” Steve offered, coming in while you were asleep.

“I'm not leaving,” James murmured, barely looking up at his best friend.

“Has she told you anything about what happened?” Steve took a seat on the other side of your bed, an action that James was grateful for, even if he didn’t say so.

“No. She’s barely coherent, they’ve got her on some pretty intense medication…. Steve, she’s in rough shape. How was she when you found her?”

James was afraid to ask, but had to know. Steve shifted his weight, looking down at the floor before finally looking back at your sleeping form, bruised and battered.

"Bad, James. Hydra had her tied up, suspended from the ceiling."

James rubbed his fingers over the raw, red rings around your wrists from the restraints, stopping as you winced in your sleep.

You opened your eyes, looking over at him, reaching out to trail your fingertips over the scruff on his cheek.

"Steve, thank you," you spoke hoarsely, turning to the blond who stood at the end of the hospital bed.

"Of course. How are you feeling?" he approached and gently took your outstretched hand.

"Everything hurts," you groaned, shaking as you tried to sit up.

"Here," James helped you, supporting your weight as you settled into a seated position.

Two weeks later, you'd recovered enough to be discharged.

"I don't want to stay at the tower, I want to go home," you insisted to James, anxious to be back in the shared Brooklyn apartment.

You held his hand as he drove you to the brownstone, flinching at car horns and loud noises. As much as you ached to be home, the trauma still exhausted your nervous system, and kept James on edge.

Your friends had been kind enough to clean your place for you, warm and smelling of the dinner that was in the oven, waiting for you and James. He followed you to the kitchen, smiling softly as you eagerly dug into the first real food you’d got since your return.

Despite have the whole table to yourself, you sat on Bucky’s knee as you ate, his arm around your waist. He was quieter than usual, his face pressed into your shoulder, needing to be as close as possible. He was unable to let you go, afraid you’d slip through his fingers.

Later that night, Bucky sat on the edge of the tub, helping rinse your hair. He had all but gotten in the water with you, his sleeves rolled up as he tenderly washed your skin. Candles flickered on the counters, dimly lighting the fragrant room.

“I’m okay,” you whispered to James, your hand going to his jaw as he kissed you. His lips were soft against yours, parting just enough to catch your small gasp. You chased his mouth when he pulled away, only briefly satisfied as he planted another firm kiss to your lips. He stood to get you a towel, wrapping you up as you rose from the water.

“Let’s go to bed,” he urged, unable to hide his anxiety.

“You won’t sleep,” you accused, knowing he’d be up all night, just as he had for days.

“We can put on a movie. I just need to hold you,” his big eyes were framed by dark lashes, eyes that were impossible to say no to.

You slipped into one of his tee shirts before following him, letting yourself snuggle against his side, his arms tightly wrapping around your middle. The rhythm of his heartbeat and soft sounds of the television lulled you to sleep, resting safely in his embrace.

#Bucky #Bucky barnes #Bucky fluff #bucky angst #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky imagine

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clamenstell · 4 months

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more lovesick!gojo cause this man lives rent free in my head 😔 (also cause u guys seem to really like him too 😳)

- lovesick!gojo who purposefully gets himself injured just so you can treat his wounds and nurse him back to health. "How'd you get this hurt Satoru?" "Uh, I don't know, just happens I guess," he shrugs but in reality he asked Suguru to use his curses to hurt him on purpose. "Can't you ask Shoko to heal your wounds?" "She's busy and I can't treat these myself~" "What happened to your untouchable infinity?~" "...It's a work in progress." you don't believe him.

- lovesick!gojo who hangs around your dorm during his free time whenever he can because he loves your presence and want to be close to you.

- lovesick!gojo who barges in without knocking the door since you got used to him coming in whenever, but this time was a bad time. You were changing when you heard your door burst open with a loud obnoxious voice yelling "I'm bored! Let's do something! :D" "😦" "😨😨😨" You've never seen someone shut the door so fast. "I am soo sorry. Oh my god." you can hear him mumble through the door.

- lovesick!gojo who's face was entirely red as he covered his face with his hand, head leaning against the very door that separated him and your half dressed self.

- lovesick!gojo who swears he would gouge his eyes out if you asked him but at the same time feel blessed for being able to see a sight he thought he would never see, he feels like a young pubescent teen all over again. You forgave him as you know it was an accident but he still bought you pastries as an apology.

- lovesick!gojo who feels his face heat up whenever he sees you as the thought of you half dressed would pop up and make him flustered, making his cheeks red.

- lovesick!gojo who acts stupid when it comes to homework so that he could ask for your help and try to score a study date with you. "Hey can you help me with question 4 🥺?" "Sure :)" "That question is so easy what are you talki-" Suguru, who has to deal with his sad attempt at flirting, likes to interrupts sometimes, good thing Satoru has a good reflex and slaps his palm over the cockblocker's mouth.

- lovesick!gojo who loves sitting next to you when you host a movie night with the others, especially when it's late at night as your sleepy self would lean your head on his shoulder for support, he could smell the fragrance of your shampoo and feel the gentle rise of your breathing.

- lovesick!gojo who has never been so still in his life to not wake you up, even if the movie ends he would rather stay here all night to be close to you. When Suguru and Shoko notices, they would make kissy faces and all he could do is flip them off while his ears redden.

- lovesick!gojo who loves doing little things like covering the corner of the table when you lean down to pick something up, or making sure you're walking on the inside of the road when you two walked down the streets, or when raining he made sure you were fully covered under the umbrella even if his shoulder is exposed to the rain (dw he has infinity). Even if you don't notice, he wants to show his love through small actions (you do notice it :)).

- lovesick!gojo who's heart jumps out his throat when you snuck a kiss to his cheek when he brought your favourite pastry, smiling sweetly at him.

- lovesick!gojo who remains still in shock as his whole face burst in red as you grab his hand and held up the pastries he bought, "Let's share them :)" Humming softly and dragging him back to your dorm by the hand, squeezing his softly, to share the sweet treat and maybe watch a movie, just the two of you <3

- lovesick!gojo who swears he can die happy and fulfilled as you two sit shoulder to shoulder and watched digimon together (you know he loves it).

- lovesick!gojo who wishes he could pause this very moment if he could, forget being the strongest as long as he could stay by your side, holding your hand and kissing your cheek <3

- lovesick!gojo who's on cloud nine and can't stop grinning the next day that Suguru and Shoko look at him weird. "What's with his face," Shoko turns to you, sticking a thumb in Satoru's direction and you only smile. "Gross," Suguru grumbles, figuring out the reason and Satoru gasp. "You're just jealous that I bagged the most gorgeous woman ever!" wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pecking your cheek. "I bet you weren't even the one who confessed," Suguru snickers earning a 'Hey!' from your pouting boyfriend, who you love very much <3

- lovesick!gojo who finally gets the chance to kiss you under the moonlight, who kisses you with such tenderness, pouring all his feelings into it, holding your cheek with one hand and holding your waist with the other. Turning his head to deepen the kiss, he never wants to forget this feeling, the feeling of your soft lips against his and the feeling of finally having you in his arms. Pulling away to breath, you both smile as he lean your foreheads together. Gods, he's just so in love with you.

not as good as the last one but hope you guys enjoyed it none the less :)

#jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #jjk fluff #jjk gojo #fluff #jujutsu gojo #soft gojo #shoko ieiri #suguru geto #satoru x reader #satoru x you #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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mod-kyoko · 9 months

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Hello! Hope you’re having a good day/night. Could I please request Nagito x gn reader that was helping take care of him during the whole despair disease outbreak, and whenever Nagito said ‘I hate you’ the reader would just respond with something along the lines of “Love you too, Komaeda.” Could be headcanons, oneshot, or whatever. Whichever you’d prefer.

Sorry if this sounds weird, I don’t usually make requests lol. Thanks in advance!!

taking care of despair diseased nagito

type: in killing game, hc format, established relationship

a/n: anon it's so crazy i was literally just playing chapter 3 of dra2 and was at the part when they get the disease

♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧

you noticed right away that something was wrong with nagito

every word that came out of his mouth was a lie

it was almost like he couldn't speak the truth at all

when hajime felt his forehead and noticed that nagito was burning up, you knew that was the reason behind his behavior

monokuma popped up soon after, confirming that nagito was indeed afflicted by the lying disease

still, you didn't understand why some disease would cause nagito to say things like nothing is real, everyone is fake, and everyone is out to get him

but it was impossible to reason with him, especially because not long after he passed out, crumpling to the floor

you lunged forward, grabbing onto him to soften his fall, and pulled him onto your lap

"mikan! we need to get him to the hospital!" you yelled, while everyone else stood by in shock

the nurse helped you carry nagito all the way to the hospital on the third island, where you laid him in a bed

"u- um, we need to get him out of his clothes and into a gown," mikan said

"i got it, go help ibuki and akane," you replied, so she left it to you

nagito regained consciousness while you were slipping his shirt over his head

"ah! what are you doing to me? ah, are you planning to abduct me and take me to your home planet?"

you would have laughed at the silliness of the question if he wasn't in such dire condition. instead, you replied patiently

"i'm not an alien, nagito" you reached for his pants to slide them down his legs, but he swats your hand away

"i don't... want..." he was struggling to finish his sentence without panting from the fever

"i know, i'm sorry. but i need to get you into a gown. would you rather have mikan do it?"

"yes, i would much prefer mikan do it," he rambled, staring at the wall

your heart fluttered a little bit, knowing he meant the opposite of what he said. but this wasn't the time to be flustered

after wrestling with your boyfriend a little bit, you finally got his pants off, and draped the gown around his shoulders

once you tied it, you let him lay back down on the bed, and he closed his eyes

at this point there wasn't anything else you can do, with no medic knowledge, so you decided to just comfort him through it

you reached out to pat his head, smoothing down his hair

he reacted weakly, shaking his head as if to shoo away your hand

"get your filthy hand off me," he snarled

by now you were starting to translate his words in your head

"go away (please stay)"

"stop touching me (don't stop)"

with one hand running through his hair, your other laced your fingers in his, watching as he shifted between a state of being awake and being unconscious

"i... hate you" he spat, beads of sweat collecting at his temple

"i love you too, nagito" you smiled, gently squeezing his hand

"i seriously... hate you... go away."

"i'm here, you're okay. i won't leave you."

"i don't want you here! go away!"

his eyes were watering, and you didn't know if he was crying because he was in pain or angry, so you reached out and wiped the tears away

"i want to be here, i won't leave you, i promise."

you could have sworn you felt him squeeze your hand back once before he slipped back into sleep

♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧

#mod kyoko #danganronpa #danganronpa headcanons #danganronpa imagines #danganronpa x reader #goodbye despair #nagito komaeda #nagito x reader

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slvttyplum · 6 months

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˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ enchanting nurse

synopsis: you’re having a bad migraine and decide to go to the emergency, where you meet a fine nurse.

contents: unethical smut! gender bent suguru.

the devil works hard… but plum works harder!

“The nurse will be right with you. Sorry about that, hun.” A receptionist says walking out the door

Before you could reply, she’s gone.

You came to the emergency room two hours ago because of an aching migraine. You felt as though your head was getting ripped open.

So did everyone else's, to your surprise when you find the waiting room is filled to the brim. You’re lucky you’re even back here; you had to put on a show for them to finally push you to the front.

Your legs were swinging off the table, the white sheet of parchment paper crinkling with every swing. the clock clinking as the clattering outside filled the room.

After minutes of being left alone, there’s a knock at the door: "Hello! May I come in?" You straighten your back, and your legs are not swinging anymore.

“yes.” The door slowly slides open, and there’s a nurse with a clipboard under her arm, and she’s smiling, her long black hair flowing over her shoulder.

She walks in carefully, closing the door. Your eyes scan over her figure, her nurse dress almost busting at the top from her big breast, and her kitten heels propping her up, making her posture perfect.

“How are ya?” She lets out her voice, mellow but cheerful, soft but dull. She walks over to the chair, sliding it towards the computer screen, which is flopping down.

You gulp, looking down in your lap. “Not so great, since I'm here.” She laughs while typing something on the keyboard, her fingernails clicking on them.

The sound is soothing.

She taps her foot as she hums to herself, still typing, "I can see; it’s crowded out there, huh?” She says sliding her chair over towards you, her foot stopping when she’s by your thighs.

You gulp again, still avoiding her gaze, and you can feel her eyes slide over you.

“yeah… should’ve just waited it out.” You say it in almost a whisper, but she catches it. She grins, grabbing some gloves out of her pocket and slipping them on.

"No, no, if you’re not feeling well, you should be evaluated; don’t sell yourself short.” She stands up, walking in between your legs.

One hand on your thigh, and she takes her other hand, putting two fingers behind your ear.

“Tell me if anything hurts, hun.” her tone reassuring, and her words coming out like butter on toast.

You couldn’t deny she was attractive; maybe that’s why you were so nervous.

She presses her two fingers on the deep spot behind your ear repeatedly, and when she presses again, you wince.

“Does it hurt?” She says, leaning in closer, near your ear, the air from her nose hitting you. The soft smell of her perfume entered your nose, your eyes closing.

A nice comforting smell to say the least, a hint of vanilla but mostly lavender. You slowly open your eyes back up, and they land on the perfect set of breasts in front of you.

She removes her fingers, and you gulp. You reach for the ophthalmoscope behind you on the wall.

her breast in your face and her stomach on yours, your hands unintentionally reach for her waist, resting them on her.

She grabs the tool, pulling back, and you quickly do the same, hoping she doesn’t notice.

“Are you alright?” She says, grinning, her hand coming up to your face and slowly cupping your cheek.

Your cheeks suddenly turn warm, and your hands are fidgeting with each other in your lap. She takes her other hand, shining the light in your eye without warning.

You jump, and she slides her hand down from your face, grabbing your arm. "I'm sorry for startling you," she says in a soft voice.

You swallow hard, looking her in the eye. It seems like your migraine suddenly went away; you need her.

Your eyes slide over her chest down to her breast; they sit nicely, you thought to yourself again.

You couldn’t help but stare; you felt like you were drooling. She takes her finger, tilting your head up to look at her. “You know it’s rude to stare, right? especially at a lady’s breast.”

Your cheeks go warm again, but you’re sure they never stopped. Shit so embarrassing. You weren’t trash like other people, so why start now?

She leans down, so she’s now level to level with your ear. “If you want to cop a feel, just ask.”

Your body freezes, and there’s no thought going through your brain—well, maybe one thought.

Would she really let you? wait… What are you thinking? You can’t just-

Before you could finish any ounce of thought you had left, she took both your hands and placed them on her warm breast.

Your fingertips dig into the soft flesh beneath them as you grip them, her eyes still sinking into yours.

Is she enjoying this?

Her hands are sliding around your waist as she pulls each glove off as she leans down to your level, licking her lips. “What is it you want to do to me?"

She asks, her eyelashes fluttering and her minty breath eluding in the space between you two.

With no hesitation, you lean forward, placing a kiss on her lips. She kisses you back, her tongue brushing over your bottom lip.

You part open your mouth, her tongue sliding in, so wet and soft. her finger tips brushing over the sides of you.

Your hands slide towards the middle of her dress, unbuttoning a button. She leans away, laughing.

"Wow, eager are we?” She says, her hand sliding on top of yours. Your eyes light up seeing her help you unbutton her dress.

Her figure is slowly revealed; she’s wearing a red lacy bra, and her breasts are practically sitting on top.

You swallow watching her strip before your eyes slide all over her body; she’s swaying her hips, teasing you as she slides the dress off her shoulders.

She giggles, dropping her dress. She’s standing there naked, nothing but her bra, panties, and heels on.

a sight that you’re glad you could see.

She leans in closer to you, her hands on both your sides.

“What are you going to do with me, patient?” Her voice is seductive, like she’s teasing you. You wrap your arms around her, your hand slipping down to her strap, undoing it with one hand.

snap.

The back comes loose, and the straps are loose. She leans up, slowly sliding off each strap, then dropping it.

Her breasts fall, and it’s a beautiful sight. She stands up straight with her hands on her hips, her red lacy panties still on.

“Let me watch you take those off.” you say, spreading your legs and resting your hands beside you.

She laughs, kicking off her heels.

"Hmm, and if I say no?"

You laugh, taking your hand, unbuttoning, and unzipping your jeans. “Anything by you goes, sweetheart."

She grins at you, slowly sliding her panties off, sliding them onto the ground, and walking closer to you.

Her lavender scent became more evident; it sent tingles all over your body and made you leak with anticipation.

She takes her finger, hooks it on your underwear band, and slides it down. You lift your hips as they slide right off.

“Lay down for me; this could get messy.” She's lifting your legs up, turning you in the direction of the bed, and spreading them.

"What do you mean, mes-" Your question gets interrupted when she hops on the bed, diving straight between your thighs.

She takes a lick of your heat, a saliva string dripping from the tip of her tongue. She swirls her tongue on your heat and takes her hand, sliding it up your thigh.

The hem of your shirt is peeking up. Your body jerks once she makes contact with you; it’s like her touch was magic.

She gripped your thigh, sliding her tongue over your clit, taking her hand off your thigh, and sliding a finger inside you.

"Ah, slower, please," she grins as she slides her tongue over your swollen clit.

“mm poor baby, are you sensitive right there? How about here?” She slides her two fingers deep inside, curling them.

You jerk your legs, one swinging up and dropping back down, and she takes her fingers out, swinging her body over yours.

Her ass is now in your face as her upper body is near your heat. You’ve never done this position before, but it made you tingle.

She lowers herself in your face, and you immediately dive into your pussy, licking all around like you’re trying to suck out nectar.

She does the same licking all around you; you're so deep into your lust that you’re out of it. Your tongue is mindlessly sliding around her puffy heat, and you suck on her clit.

She tastes so sweet, her fluid sliding on your tongue—a taste you’ve never once had. This is a new taste you’re going to be yearning for.

You take your finger, sliding one in, and she jerks, letting out a low moan. She keeps sucking your clit and slips a finger inside.

You’re close, which is embarrassing, but it’s the truth. The way she worked her tongue and fingers made you crazy; your head was no longer hazy, and your mind was hazy.

"Wait, I'm about…” You couldn’t finish your sentence, your words dragging into her pussy as you kept sucking her clit, your eyes rolling.

She lightly bounces up and down on your face as you both ride your highs. There’s no moan, trying not to get caught. She flops on your legs, breathing up and down.

Your climax is wearing off, and you’re breathing hard. She slowly slides off the bed, smiling at you, her eyes dark but her pearly whites shining.

“Are you okay?” She asks, sliding on her undergarments and picking up her dress. She grabs your underwear and pants, handing them to you.

You nod silently. That was an experience, but you’re not sure how to feel; it’s bittersweet.

It felt good doing it with her, but... you have to leave.

“There’s no need to feel bad.” She says, laughing; her dress is slipped on, and she’s buttoning it up.

You slide off the bed, putting on your underwear and jeans.

"I assume you’re feeling better?” She asks, grabbing her shoes and sliding them on. You can’t help but stare at her figure.

“yes… sorry.” you let out, what are you even sorry about?

“There’s no need to be sorry, hun.” She walks towards you, putting her hand on your face and cupping your cheek.

You grin, rubbing her hand in comfort, softly. There’s something about her; she looks like someone, but you can’t put your finger on it. Her aura is oddly familiar but comforting.

"I go to the cafe on 43rd every Saturday; I hope you can find me there”. She says, smiling and sliding her hand off.

You nod your head completely in a daze, like every word she says is a spell.

"Yes," you say in a whisper. She giggles, grabbing the binder off the desk and walking towards the door.

"I'll tell them not to charge you; bye, hun," she says, sliding out the door.

Your heart is racing, and you stuff your hands in your pocket. Wow.

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klausysworld · 7 months

Note

hiii, hope you’re doing well :D

Would you be down to write a piece where Klaus is married to a human doctor or nurse and every time he comes back after a fight and is wounded, reader patches him up. And Klaus is like u know I heal. And she’s like shut up and sit. Klaus smirks and obeys as he secretly loves getting tended to by wifey.

Healing Hands

I worried for Klaus daily and nightly. Whether he was immortal or not, pain is pain.

Watching him stumble through the front door bloodied and bruised always made my heart drop. He was careless with himself, if they didn't have the white-oak stake then he didn't worry. He often reminded me that he wouldn't die even if they tore his heart out or burnt him alive.

To be honest that didn't help my fears at all.

I would always look after him after he was injured. Whether it was a couple scrapes here and there or if it was something much, much worse.

For instance, today was simply awful.

Klaus had been missing for nearly three full days when Elijah and Rebekah came in through the door, holding him up. I rushed down the stairs and helped him back up them. Once we got him onto his bed I got my bag out which was essentially a very big first aid kit with a couple extra items, like my surgical string and curved suture needles.

I looked up to find Klaus looked back at me with a small smile on his blood stained lips.

"I'm okay" he whispered raspily.

"No...you're not" I told him and he sighed softly as I opened his blood soaked shirt to expose the very slowly healing stab wounds that carved deep into his abdomen and chest.

"I just need some blood, I'll heal in seconds" he mumbled

"Then I'll put you on a blood drip" I remarked while gently running antiseptic wipes over his wounds, trying not to let his wincing bother me.

"Love-"

"Just be quiet Nik" I whispered "Just let me help"

"okay" he murmured softly, giving in rather quickly which was more and more common recently. I gave a small smile back to him before continuing to carefully stitch him up where he should need it.

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

(switch to 3rd person)

He kept still, his eyes closing as he felt her healing hands caress him better.

Klaus would never admit how much he secretly enjoyed her tending to him. It always reminded him of how much she loved him. No matter what was wrong, she was right there with bandages and wipes to help sooth his hurt.

Usually it was accompanied by a warm bath afterwards, her bare body against his while she traced the places where wounds once were. She would proceed to kiss each spot and then, at last, his lips. Then he would thank her quietly to which she would simply dismiss and once more tell him to be quiet so she could 'treat' him in another way.

By the time they're out of the water, they're probably dirtier than when they got in but neither one of them could care once they were curled up together again.

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

(Back to 1st)

I had my head on his chest, tilted back to gaze up at him. My fingertips danced patterns across his broad chest while his brushes against my scalp.

The room was dark, the curtains closed and door locked. A comfortable silence had been around us for a good while now, our love for one-another always lingered in the air and both our eyes seemed to grow tired as we looked deep into each other.

His rough yet quiet voice broke the quiet but I didn't mind.

"I'm sorry I was gone for so long" he whispered and I smiled softly.

"It wasn't you fault...I'm sorry I wasn't much use in finding you" I always felt a little helpless when it came to saving people. Being a human my skills weren't ever helpful. I tried of course but I would never be as strong or intelligent as those who have lived for centuries.

"I never want you to spend restless nights looking for me. You must know by now that I will always come back to you alive, and you will always be here waiting I hope." His hand stroked the skin of my face making my lashes flutter as I nodded

"I'll always be here, I'll always look after you" I promised. I feel his forehead press to mine, the soft curls of top his head which have grown a little long tickle my face gently.

"And I you sweetheart" he smiled and so did I

"I love you Niklaus" I whispered quietly, kissing his cheek gently

"I love you more, my little nurse"

(Sorry this is so short)

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littlemissvincentvega · 4 months

Note

Hii could u write a part 2 to the morning wood hopper fic? Maybe hopper accidentally bumps into the reader at a bar and he takes her home and Yk… 😏

MORNING WOOD pt. 2 / a perv!hopper one shot

PART 1

a/n: OMG i finally wrote something and it is the part 2!!! i'm going to do part 3 soon (might start writing it tonight) it will most likely be the finale of this little miniseries thing with hopper. but i had so much fun writing this and i hope y'all enjoy ♥ also also i'm in the process of setting up the tumblr tips thing bc i am Poor and somebody asked me about it aaaages ago :) thanks @nonsensecynical for the request and the inspiration for doing the part 2!!

18+ explicit content / perv! jim hopper x fem!reader

cw: alcohol, smoking, sexual themes, general perviness

Wisps of smoke left his nose like an angry bull. He tapped the cigarette on the edge of the ashtray in front of him, watching as the ash fell into it. It had started out clean and empty, but since Jim arrived a small pile of cigarette butts had accumulated there. He nursed his (sixth? seventh?) drink, focused on the melting ice cubes that swirled around the glass.

"Need a drinking partner?"

Hopper looked up from the bar, his eyes widening a little when he saw it was you. Of course it was. He'd jacked off to the thought of you that very morning, so why the hell wouldn't he have to deal with speaking to you as if he hadn't just mentally fucked you into next week? "What?"

You snickered slightly and shifted to sit beside him at the bar. Unbeknownst to Jim, you were already a couple of drinks in, which was why you were so calm about approaching him. You'd considered this a few times before after seeing him drink his problems away, but today was the day you grew a pair, for some reason. "Are you having another drink?"

"Probably," came his mumbled response. He looked at you, "Why?"

You pretended not to notice his gaze drop briefly to your breasts and gave him a coy smile. "I'll get your next one. You look like you need a drinking partner. You're always in here by yourself."

"(y/n), I couldn't ask you to do that," Jim said, sitting up to look at you properly. Why was a young, beautiful thing like you bothering to speak to him? He arched his brows. "By myself--? That's by choice, not because I don't have friends, you know."

"You didn't ask me, I offered. I'm buying the Chief of Police a drink. Least I can do for you doing your duty," you grinned, ignoring his further comments. He closed his eyes in annoyance, sighed through his nose and begrudgingly agreed.

"Let me give you a ride home," Hopper told you an hour or so later, sliding the empty glasses toward the barkeep. "Least I can do after you bought me a single drink."

You grinned upon seeing a smile twitch on his usually stoic face, then slid on your coat. "I didn't tell you to pay for my other drinks. I just... let you do it. It's fine, I'll drive myself home."

"No, no-- not happening." He was already ushering you out, a large hand hovering near your lower back. The bitterly cold air of the evening woke you up slightly, and you grimaced at the change in temperature. "I'll hafta arrest you for drink-driving. Wouldn't want that."

Being slightly merry, you bit your lip into a smile of mischief and eyed him. "Would that involve you putting me in handcuffs?"

That kinky little shit. I knew it. Hopper stared at you for a few moments, then continued to whisk you to his truck. "Yes."

Jim helped you into the passenger side of the truck, closed the door for you and then made his way to the driver's seat. He cleared his throat and glanced your way. You had slid your coat down your shoulders just a little to allow the cold air around your breasts. And yes, he could see your nipples trying to poke through the fabric of your shirt. Dark gaze lingered on them for a moment before he cleared his throat again and switched on the engine. "Thanks, uh, for keepin' me company tonight," he mumbled.

"Oh-- don't mention it. It's nice to not drink by myself for once."

"You there a lot?" he queried, taking a look behind before reversing out of the parking spot.

"Mm, sometimes," you hummed, popping the cap off of your lipstick and topping it up in the mirror. Hopper wished you wouldn't do that. It was making his mind go to places, places it had been that same morning. Making him think about how beautiful you'd look with those beautiful plump lips wrapped around his cock, pumping and sucking...

And then you broke his trance with a question. "Should you even be driving?"

"What?"

You returned the lid to your lipstick and put it in your handbag. "You're technically drink-driving, Chief."

God. Stop calling me that. He glanced your way, a gentle smirk tugging at his lips. "What'd you just call me?"

Brows arched, you stared at him and tried to ignore the pulsing between your thighs. After a short pause, you answered him, albeit a little quieter. "Chief."

"Exactly. I'm the Chief of Police, I can do what I want." And what I want is to fuck your brains out.

You simply rolled your eyes and chuckled a little, opting to look out of the window. Jim took that opportunity to steal a few glances at your body, the way your skirt perfectly hugged your hips, how the low-cut top showed off your delicious breasts. How he'd like to grab them, knead them, suckle on your perfect little nipples. He swallowed thickly, making an attempt to ignore his twitching cock. No, not twitching-- it was throbbing.

When you turned to look for any packs of cigarettes Jim had laying around his car, it wasn't difficult to see what he was trying to hide. It only made your core ache more for him, and from what you could see, he was big. You diverted your gaze from it quickly, locating the cigarettes, and sparked up. The first exhale definitely helped to calm you down, but it was barely a distraction from how sopping wet you felt.

The rest of the ride was quiet, almost awkward considering how you were both feeling (unbeknownst to each other), but Hopper broke the silence when he pulled into the trailer park. "Which number are you again?" he mumbled. He knew the number.

"Right there." You pointed at your trailer, which was painted light blue (a DIY job Eddie Munson had helped you with, much to Steve's dismay).

Hopper pulled up at the side of your home, hands resting in his lap to conceal what was going on down there. A small smile was given to you. "Home sweet home."

You noticed that he didn't turn off the engine, which was a slightly disheartening, but your horny little brain had other plans. One hand rested on the door handle and you looked across to him, eyebrows raised. "Aren't you gonna walk me to my door?"

Oh, God, why? He looked mildly annoyed, staring at you silently for a moment. "The free ride home not enough?"

"Nope." You flashed him a grin.

Rolling his eyes, Jim switched off the engine and exited the car. In his mind, he was hoping his erection had subsided a little, but he knew full well it wasn't going away until he took care of it. All he had to do was pray you didn't notice. "Alright," he helped you down from the truck, savouring every moment his hands touched your body, "five more steps and you're home safe."

"Huh, chivalry isn't dead, after all," you joked, walking with him to your porch. You fumbled to grab your keys and began to unlock the door.

"Sure," he cracked a small smile again. You were sweet-- he found you to have a decent sense of humour, too. "Uh, thanks again for keepin' me company."

You removed the key and opened the door, looking up at him. "You're welcome. Do you want to come inside for a bit?"

For a moment, Jim's eyes widened and he fell silent. He looked inside, then back to you. "No, I should get goin'. Got stuff to do."

"What stuff?" You held his gaze, subtly ran your tongue along your upper lip.

"Y'know-- laundry. Got some, uh, dirty dishes--"

But he was cut off. Your hand, much smaller than his, had found the outline of his erection, and you were gently rubbing it through his work-slacks. "What else?" you breathed, watching the poor man try to catch his breath.

He swallowed thickly, all too aware of how heavy he was breathing. Gaze dropped to watch your hand, then slowly rose to capture all of the beauty your body held. His eyes finally met yours again. "Gotta take a shower... maybe it can wait..." Without warning, he pushed you inside and slammed the door behind you both, shoving you against the nearest wall. It made the framed photos there shake, but Hopper didn't care. You squealed with surprise-- his cock rubbed against you as his lips met yours, all hunger and pent-up frustration and passion. He groaned against your lips, only pulling away after a few seconds to catch his breath and look at you. Yes, it was clear. You both wanted the same thing.

PART 3 COMING SOON!

#hopper #chief hopper x reader #jim hopper x reader #chief jim hopper #jim hopper #jim hopper fanfic #hopper fanfic #hopper smut #chief hopper smut #hopper x you

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sublimecatgalaxy · 5 months

Note

can I get some Rafe fluff for your fellow broken legged girlie <3 bonus points if he is loving and being kind to me after being cut open :) <3

OR NFL RAFE ILL TAKE EITHER OK LOVE U

Bestie, my love. I love you. Here I am to write this finally. Thank you for being patient ❤️

"Y/n?" The nurse calls out across the vacant waiting room, the clock on the wall beside me ticking as we pass seven o'clock in the morning, my check-in time.

Rafe squeezes my hand and helps me out of my seat, his hand resting on my lower back as we make our way towards the pre-operative area. The nurse smiles warmly at me and gives me a reassuring nod before leading me through the door, talking quietly under her breath about the procedure ahead.

Rafe is more anxious than I am, squeezing my hand tightly as my neck cranes to look up at him, his eyes shining with worry and burden.

"So you're here for your leg today, right?" The nurse asks, pulling the curtain back on a room as she motions me towards the bed and I give her a brief nod and a small smile. "So I need you to change into the gown, everything off. You can put your hair up and then put the hairnet on. I know it's not the most stylish but..." She trails off with a laugh and turns to Rafe. "Are you the health care proxy?"

"Yes, and boyfriend." He smiles proudly and she hands him some paperwork, pointing to the number at the bottom of the sheet.

"When you're in the waiting room, this number will correspond to her and her status in the operating room. You can track her on the TV that's in the waiting room." She wraps up her instructions with a sigh before giving us the room, leaving Rafe and I alone in anxious silence.

"Are you scared?" Rafe asks and I pause.

"A little. Just don't know what to expect pain-wise." I strip myself of my comfortable clothes, leaving me bare to the outside, clinical, sterile world and I'm quick to slip into the hospital gown and socks. Rafe helps me tuck in under the warmed blankets and settle into the comfortable bed, my eyes shutting briefly as his hand settles on the top of my head.

"You know I'll take care of you." He whispers, leaning down to press a kiss to my lips.

"I know you will." I mutter as the nurse comes back into the room with a smile, careful to not disturb our conversation as she sets up my IV, muttering a quiet, "quick poke" under her breath. I hiss as she fishes for a vein but eventually gets it and I feel a sense of relief roll over me.

"I already have Rose bringing over dinner for tonight." Rafe beams and I feel a pang hit my heart, a happy pain of appreciation and love. He knows how much I've been stressing about making food and how anxious I've been at the thought of him having to do everything for twelve weeks. "Gluten free lasagna." He whispers with an excited smile and I feel my stomach roll in a loud rumble, pulling a laugh from the nurse beside me.

"You know me so well."

My ears ring as I open my eyes, the room spinning around me as I mumble out some words that are incoherent to my own ears. Rafe appears in front of me and out of nowhere and I let out a little laugh.

The doctors appear at my side, asking me a vague question that I can't quite comprehend, all I can see is his lips moving and a bright smile on his lips so I assume I did well.

Eventually, the words begin to make sense and they tell me that the surgery went well and my eyes cast downwards to look at my leg that's cast to the heavens and frozen in place. I let out a brief whine, my eyes squinting shut as the lights in the room begin to be too much and Rafe mutters something to the doctor before the light flicks off.

"You okay, babe?" Rafe asks and caresses my cheek gently and I smile warmly, even though I'm nauseous and already feeling pricks of pain, Rafe's here and he's not leaving my side.

By the time they get me downstairs to the car, I'm crying and bothered by every single person who talks to me, knowing full well that the pain medications are wearing off the further I get from my comfortable hospital room.

"We'll be home soon, I promise." Rafe reaches over to take my hand and I whine, head lolling as I look over at him with an annoyed look and he laughs. "And drugs, don't worry."

I watch as Rafe wanders around the room, muttering to himself as he picks up a blanket and carefully balances a plate of lasagna with his other hand. He's been frantic ever since he settled me on the couch, worrying that we forgot something at the hospital or that the doctors forgot to tell him something that he'd need to know to take care of me.

"Do you need anything?" Rafe asks, winded and I smile, reaching out to him as he finally cracks and rushes to my side, throwing the blanket over me and my wounded leg, covering it up as if it's not even there. He hands me the lasagna, kissing me on the forehead with a relieved sigh.

"Drugs." I mutter before I can even look at the lasagna and a lightbulb flickers over his head before he reaches into his pocket, handing me three little pills.

"I have your drugs." I take them without hesitation, letting out a satisfied hum as if they're the tastiest thing I've ever had and Rafe smiles so warmly that my stomach does a flip. "And your lasagna." He sighs, scooping some onto a fork before holding it up to me. "Open."

He's always been the gentleman, especially with my health problems, never making me lift a finger if I don't need to. He's already talked about running me a shower and washing my hair when I'm able to, not wanting me to sit in my stench for too long even though, if it were up to me, I'd rot away on the couch if I were able to.

But he just won't allow it.

"Thank you," I whisper, leaning up to catch his lips in a brief kiss before nudging him for another bite. I'll have to text Rose later on to thank her for the two trays of lasagna she sent my way.

"You don't need to thank me." He whispers, running a hand through his hair and I finally see the stress that's lining his forehead, his shoulders tense and mouth in a thin line. He takes on so much when I'm incapacitated, I know it's a lot on him- but he just does it so well, even if he's freaking out.

"You don't feel like my caregiver?" I ask, adjusting myself and pulling the blanket he got me further up onto my chest, enough to smell his cologne on it and I smile fondly. He breaks, his face cracking a bit as the stress melts off for a moment and he realizes that I'm okay and I'm right in front of him, safe and sound.

"No, I feel like your boyfriend." He whispers, putting the food aside for a moment to kiss me longingly, his hand caressing my cheek as I sink into him, knowing he doesn't care that I might have stinky breath and cracked lips. "Do you need anything?" He whispers against my lips and I sigh, rubbing his shoulder soothingly.

"A movie and you." He nods, almost going to get up but I reach out to him with frantic eyes, looking to the almost full plate of food beside him. "And more lasagna!"

#rafe #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe cameron x reader #the outerbanks #the outerbanks fic

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ki-irke · 1 year

Note

hii can you write a fluff with Jackson Avery? ♡ I don't have any specific in mind so have fun! and don't worry to do mistakes, it's normal ♡

Exhausted

Paring: Jackson Avery x reader

Summary: Working for 46 hours straight is definitely not healthy.

A/N: I don't have a good feeling about this, but here you go. Writing in english was much harder than i was thinking lmao

You were at the shift for the past 46 hours.

You didn't have time to eat, drink or even get some sleep. Still, you agreed to take your friend's shift. You knew it's not healthy to work this much without getting any sleepi and surviving on mint gums, energy bars and drinks. One of your interns, Max, was with you almost all the time, and she was trying to get you to eat a proper meal and sleep for at least one hour.

"I can't, Max. I have too many surgeries to have time for myself" I said, going through one of my patient card.

"At least eat a proper meal, y/n!" they sighed. "Weren't you supposed to have lunch with Dr. Avery?" she asked, leaning against the counter.

"I was, but he forgot about one of his surgeries." I answered. Before Max could answer, my pager went on. "Come on, Shepherd need some help at surgery".

~~~

The surgery was going surprisingly great.

"How are u feeling?" Derek asked, not looking away from the patient.

"Good. What about you?"

"Good. It's a beautiful day" He smiled and spare a glance at me.

"Good to know." I said. "It looks okay now. I just need to stitch him."

"I told you it's a good day" He said again, making me smile a little. I started to stitching the patient, when I felt a little weak.

"Max, finish stitching for me, please." I said giving away needle.

"You okay, Dr. y/l/n?" she asked. I moved back a bit, so I wouldn't accidentally hit something.

"Excuse me." I said politely, before fainting.

"Take here to the emergency room and page Dr. Grey" Shepherd said. One of the nurses paged Meredith, while one of Shepherds interns lift y/n up. "And maybe page Dr. Avery too".

~~~

I woke up feeling better. My headache was gone, and I wasn't this much affected by light as before. I slightly move my numb hand and I looked around. I was at the emergency room, but I didn't know why.

"You fainted in the OR" I looked up to see Jackson, standing in front of my hospital bed with his arms crossed.

"Oops" I simply said, making him roll his eyes.

"Don't 'oops' me. Max told me that you weren't eating properly, drinking and getting sleep" He says, visibly angry by my behavior.

"Sorry." I say quietly. He sighed and sit on a chair by my bed.

"Just… Just please don't do this again, okay?" He asked, running his hand through my hair. I smiled.

"I'll try."

"Try? Fucking no. You have to –" I interrupted him by kissing him. As he started kissing me back, I smiled into his lips. We moved away from each other, when I saw Max going over to us.

"I wanted to see how you are, but I think I'm interrupting something here" She laughed, while I get slightly red.

"I'm feeling good enough to work again." I say, getting ready to leave the bed, when Jackson grab my hand and pulled my back.

"You're not going to work again, you're going home."

"Good. See ya later, Dr. y/l/n." Max smiled and left.

"You know, I feel good. I can work again" I said, trying to convince him to let me stay.

"No way. We're going home."

"Mhh, if you're going with me, I can't say no" I smiled as I get close to him to kiss him again.

#greys anatomy imagine #jackson avery x reader #jackson avery #greys anatomy #jackson avery imagine

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wisteria-blooms · 1 month

Text

sunburns & dragons (charlie weasley & reader) (10/??)

CHAPTER DIRECTORY

TAGLIST AT THE BOTTOM! (Let me know if you'd like to be added or if I've missed you!) A/N: I might have a cold coming on, ugh. Thought I'd get this out if I'm afflicted by illness AGAIN. And apologies in advance if there are mistakes I missed while reading it over! Feel free to let me know about them + what you think about the story!

CHAPTER 10 : What goes up must come down. Your relationship with Charlie is no exception. (5.6k words)

CHAPTER 10: YOU DON'T OWN ME

“What happened?”

Your voice was pitchy and stricken with worry. Your eyes urgently implored Charlie to provide a reason for his concern as if it was more important for you to hear than it was to him. You’d never seen Charlie in this state, though you supposed you’d barely been around for two months of his life, and no important moments at that.

Charlie read: “Fleur’s in labour. Come when you can. Love, mum.”

“You got it, Charlie.” Stan obeyed by performing the sharpest u-turn known to mankind, on the narrowest road known to mankind. The force flung your body towards the windows this time but Charlie effortlessly caught you by the wrist. When you recovered from another near-death incident with the metal insides of Knight Bus, Charlie’s words sunk in.

“Charlie!” you exclaimed.

“(Y/N)!” he returned with equal excitement, blue eyes widening.

You got back on your knees, bone meeting the plush covers of the bed, found a stable moment in Stan’s driving, and clapped your hands together giddily. “You’re going to be an uncle!”

The moment—half past midnight—you entered the obstetrics wing of St. Mungos was precisely the moment you asked yourself: why were you here? Why had you followed Charlie here? It felt natural to drunkly stumble out of Stan’s bus with Charlie to help him find his way to the right wing, but when Bill (who was standing by a water fountain) came into view, you felt like you had intruded on a personal moment.

”Shit, Bill, I’m sorry,” Charlie apologized as he strode into the waiting area. Your nervous gait reflected in the windows, the colours of your long skirt spilling on the black skies outside, brightened only with a speckling of stars. You left a considerable amount of space between Charlie and yourself, not wanting Bill to perceive your being here as impolite. You hoped the green chairs would provide enough coverage if you stood behind them.

“This was precisely the reason I told you I couldn’t make the concert,” Bill explained, pulling Charlie into a hug. The hug was long. Bill made eye contact with you as he released Charlie.

“How was the concert?” Bill asked, looking at you.

“It was excellent,” you said. “We got—Charlie got Molly’s letter at the end of it.” You hoped this would absolve you of your uninvited presence.

”Well, thank you for taking my place,” Bill said with a smile. “Charlie was never going to let me live it down.”

”(Y/N) was better company, anyway,” Charlie scoffed. “And easier on the eyes.”

“Of course she is,” Bill agreed, nudging Charlie with his elbow.

“You wound me, Bill,” Charlie protested, holding his side.

Bill smirked. “You know what wounds me? The fact you missed the birth of your niece and almost made me miss it, too.”

“What are you boys bickering about now?” Molly chided, stepping out of the room. Her hair was frazzled, the bulk of it pulled back into a bun. She appeared more stressed than the nurses walking out the room before her. Her expression softened immediately at the sight of her second eldest son. “Charlie! You’re here.”

“Of course, mum.” Charlie walked over to give his mother a hug, his body towering over hers.

“Come meet Victoire. The others will come tomorrow to give Fleur some breathing room.” Then, Molly noticed you. Your grasp on the green leather chair tightened and your chest strained anxiously at the same. “(Y/N),” she called out sweetly. “Would you like to come, too?”

“Oh, no, I can wait here,” you said, sliding over to sit on a chair. “Please, take as long as you need.”

“Alright, then,” Molly said. She placed a hand on both Charlie and Bill’s backs and guided them back into the delivery room.

You exhaled heavily when they left. A pounding tension still lingered in your jaw; you were so embarrassed. You should’ve waited downstairs in the lobby instead of following Charlie upstairs. You were certain that as nice as Molly was, she was going to talk about your gaffe with her neighbours over tea: her perfect son’s only-remarkable-because-of-what-her-last-name-affords-her girlfriend invited herself to meet her first grandchild. And can you believe she might’ve been drinking prior to it? Ruined the occasion. You groaned, squeezing your eyes shut. Next time, you’d think things through.

“Don’t drop her!” a shrill voice, muted by the door, rang out.

You looked up.

“I promise I won’t, mum! Now, calm down. Not even Fleur is worried,” came the response. Definitely Charlie.

“He did a decent job holding onto the snitch back in school.” That was Bill.

Then, a delicate little laugh complemented by Bill’s deeper one.

“See, mum, nothing to fret over. She’s perfectly happy in her uncle’s arms.”

Your mind crafted an image of Charlie holding the newborn in his arms. There was a tender look in his blue eyes as he cradled something so delicate and precious. You felt the look of love through your vision and for a moment, the weight on your chest lifted.

Every single detail of the night of the concert lingered in your mind for the next couple of days. You replayed each segment in your mind. Charlie taking you to pub and meeting Don. Charlie’s show of some emotion—jealousy?—and the touch of his hand on your hip in front of Alex. The moment in Stan’s bus, and had it not been for that owl, something might’ve happened. A confession, a kiss… you would’ve been pleased with either outcome. But you sung high praises for that aforementioned owl; it led to you being able to witness him being there for his niece’s first moments. You reckoned you handled it perfectly well, passing yourself off as a supportive partner rather than a nosy one.

Feelings of infatuation overwhelmed you as you tried to scrub them away at the dirt-speckled skin of a potato. It was Monday evening and you were running high on the fumes of adrenaline. You’d decided to expel that energy by trying your hand in the kitchen. A recipe for leek and potato soup caught your eye and it seemed easy enough. You figured Charlie might appreciate it too, given how he’d made fun of there not being a meal ready for him previously. He said he’d be back this evening, and you were going to be ready for it this time. You even pulled down two wine glasses in anticipation.

You nearly nicked your finger with the peeler when you heard keys in the front door. You drew in a deep breath and extended your hands over the top of your head to smooth out any flyaways. But really, did the rugged, sun-kissed, outdoor-prone Charlie Weasley care about how your hair looked? Before you could answer, Charlie walked in with a small duffel bag slung over his shoulders. His hair was dishevelled, his cheeks rosy, and a thin sheen of sweat coated his skin.

Your heart nearly gave out at the sight. Heavens, he looked even more handsome like this.

“Letter for you, (Y/N),” was Charlie’s greeting.

”Thank you,” you said. “Just set it down on the table there, if you don’t mind.” “Where’ve you been?” you asked, trying to keep your eagerness to a minimum.

Charlie closed the door behind him. “I took up Mallory’s offer of Quidditch.”

Oh.

Your smile dropped but you prayed that Charlie didn’t see it.

Something more bitter and darker washed out the sweet taste in your mouth. “How was it?”

”Great!” Charlie replied cheerily. “Reminded me of old times.”

You didn’t dare ask what those old times consisted of. Treacherous images of post-celebratory locker room make-outs and late-night “practice” sessions came to mind.

“I got around to chatting with her brother, Marcus,” Charlie added. “ When I wasn’t being tackled down to the ground or gasping for breath, at least. I forgot how well-connected he was to all the Ministry departments.”

More treacherous images flooded your mind. Charlie. Entangled with Mallory. On the field. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah, stellar guy. I reckon I should keep in touch with him.” Charlie shedded his bag and his jacket. ”What are you making? It smells good.”

You beamed at his question. “I figured I’d take one out of Millicent’s book, seeing both you and I are such fans now.”

Charlie sucked some air through his teeth. “Bad night for me to grab dinner with old classmates, huh?”

“Oh, not at all,” you waved Charlie’s sentence off with a shake of your head. You shuffled slightly over to your left to conceal the second wine glass you’d pulled out. “There will be quite a bit left over, if you want it.”

“Thanks, (Y/N),” Charlie said. “I’m going to shower before I head out. Want to join?”

”No, I have dinner—” you stopped yourself, your peeler wedged in the crevice of a potato and refusing to budge. You swallowed a lump in your throat. Your chest felt strange, a strong ache casting shadows on where there was just so much joy. “I’ll see you afterwards.”

Charlie responded with a crooked smile and clamped his lips together like he was concealing a retort. You imagined it would’ve gone something like, ‘Ah, so you were thinking about joining me in the shower. How naughty of you, (Y/N).’

Well, no kidding. What sane person would refuse an elusive chance to see Charlie shirtless? The longer you thought about it, the more you could taste the hot beads of water coating his hair, running down the nape of his neck, down his chest and into the ridges of his abs.

Your steam-ridden daydream was shot by you remembering of why he was in such desperate need of a shower.

His mention of Mallory and his dinner plans made you want to dump the contents of the soup—that you’d made a second time over because you’d burned the first batch—into the sink. You feared how much more Mallory could get under his skin when you weren’t around him. Trying to quell your building insecurities, you had to rationalize it and break it down for your own sanity. ‘Friends’ was a plural word; Charlie and Mallory weren’t going to be alone at dinner. Charlie loved Quidditch. Mallory loved Quidditch. You didn’t love Quidditch. It was easy for the thought of inviting you to slip his mind. Charlie clearly talked to Mallory’s brother, Marcus as well. And most importantly, Charlie wasn’t your boyfriend or some committed lover or a lover of any sort. That prohibited you from asking anything of him.

Besides, he was going to come home after…right?

You brushed off these thoughts as fanatical insinuations. Maybe you were going a little stir-crazy from Charlie’s flirting. When you heard the shower start, you slipped the extra wine glass back in its place and topped your own glass off. You needed it, because what else did Malfoys do when faced with trivial matters besides drinking them away? The dose was derived from observing your father: two glasses for a mild inconvenience, four for a moderate one, and the whole bottle for a considerable issue.

The situation at hand was pretty moderate, so four glasses it was.

In the reflection of the window, you saw your father’s eyes staring back at you. They held the same look of perturbance and wondering of why you should have to deal with any misfortune. You really were his daughter.

The effect of the alcohol cushioned the pain of Charlie leaving through the door. He looked well-combed and delectable and ready to slip right into Mallory’s arms. Or into her mouth. No, you scolded yourself, none of that nonsense. After a lonesome dinner, your fork scraping your teeth in contemplation more than scraping the bowl, you sorted the leftovers into containers. You had your bath and went straight to bed.

Sleep that night was not only futile, it was wishful thinking. You tossed and turned. When you turned the light on again, both the hour and minute hand on your clock inched perilously close to two, meaning it was that late and Charlie still wasn’t back. He’d been gone for almost six hours.

You should’ve been asleep right now. You should’ve been fine right now. You shouldn’t be fretting over Charlie right now. So, why were you staring at the ceiling, a bruising feeling consuming your bones?

Before Charlie came into your life, you were trying to prove a point to your parents: you didn’t need a partner. And you’d always sworn you wouldn’t let the affections of a man change you; you preferred to operate independently. Now, you were absolutely sick over Charlie. Sometime in the past couple weeks, you’d gone from not really caring where he was to your mood beating to the sound of his drums. Merlin, you were a raging hypocrite.

The memories you had thought beautiful seemed so ugly now. His act of blowing off dinner in favour of hanging out with Mallory and her friends cheapened everything that happened over the weekend. And how was it fair that Charlie was free to spend his nights as he pleased, while the moment you engaged with Alex, he led you away? Wouldn’t it be preposterous if you showed up to the bar he was at right now and made a show by snatching him back in front of Mallory? If you did it, you’d look crazy. But when Charlie did it, it was chivalrous.

As you fluffed your pillow just to lay down again, you thought about your friend, Alicia Spinnet. She used to complain about the men she dated and the ways they cycled hot and cold. They were indecipherable, affectionate one day and gone the next. In the end, they wanted nothing more than a fling which led to numerous late-night conversations with her asking you where she’d gone wrong or if those men were really interested in the first place. The pain she felt was only punctuated when she saw them out with a real partner months later.

While you empathized with her by providing long hugs, ice-cream, and promises of getting petty revenge, you didn’t think yourself as so naive to find yourself in such a situation. You’d look for the signs, you’d know when to leave. But now, you felt so, so stupid.

Charlie Weasley was not different; he was exactly the type of men Alicia complained about. At this point, you weren’t even sad. You were angry and you didn’t know who to be angry with.

“You look like shit.”

You eked out a smile. “Thank you, Fred.”

You stopped by Cauco and Weasley Wizard Wheezes the next morning just before work. Neither place brought you much peace after what had happened with Charlie there, but Fred and George were the cure-all to any sort of pain. And the last time you trekked from Cauco to the shop, you hadn’t met Charlie yet, so maybe this would serve as some sort of spiritual reset.

You almost choked on your coffee order. You’d asked for the strongest drink as a feeble attempt to get through the day and you were served accurately. You peeled off the sleeve trying to ascertain how many shots of espresso were exactly in this concoction. Oh—was that a 3 or 8?

The delivery man finished stacking a boatload of parcels near the front and readied a slip in front of you. You counted the boxes and signed off on it for Fred and George who were busying themselves with opening duties. You thanked the worker as he left.

From there, you walked around the shop and gently rearranged some crooked products as a means to distract yourself. Charlie did get back last night, interrupting your very light sleep. You heard him brushing his teeth around 3 a.m. It was early enough to signify he didn’t spend the entire night in Mallory’s bed but late enough for the opportunity of an emotional and physical rekindling to occur. You slipped past him this morning as he slept in. You had no desire to ask him how last night went as your first conversation of the day.

You were confused. The burning desire to be by Charlie’s side flamed out so quickly after he’d mentioned Mallory. Was what you thought you felt even real, then?

“Want to do something this weekend?” you asked quickly.

“I always want to do something,” Fred was the first to respond. “But I figured your days were better spent on maintaining appearances with Charlie.”

“No,” you corrected quickly. “I think we’ve done well enough not to require anymore… appearances together.”

“It’s settled then,” Fred proclaimed. “Let’s hop a couple of bars and see where we end up.”

“(Y/N) will be on the floor,” George sang. “Just like before.”

You giggled at George’s lyricism as you propped up a Skiving Snackbox. “I will not!”

Talking and making plans with Fred and George always took a weight off your shoulders. You went home that night feeling ready for whatever punches and hooks life was going to throw at you. You, however, stalled when you arrived back to an empty apartment again. You walked down the hallway and into the kitchen where you stopped in front of the fridge. Curiously, you peeked in to find your leftovers untouched, and you felt your resolve falter for a moment. Did it taste bad? Or did Charlie have no need for it because he was sustained by something else?

You took a deep breath to ground yourself. You had to stop thinking about this for your own sanity. Charlie and Mallory could move out to the countryside and have their perfect, beautiful academically-gifted, athletic, curly-haired, bright-eyed babies. You swore you’d wish him well when that day came. Maybe you’d even send him a gift basket.

You were going to be fine.

You didn’t see Charlie until Friday evening after he’d arrived home from the train station. He intercepted you at the door just as you were about to leave for your night out.

“Hold up, (Y/N). What are you doing next week?” Charlie asked, leaning against the doorframe.

You felt as if you’d been punched in the gut. He looked so good.

Composing yourself, you said: “You’re going to have to be more precise.”

“End of the workweek?” Charlie tried again.

“I’ll be working.”

“Can’t take the time off?”

“I can’t afford to anymore.”

Charlie frowned. “That’s unfortunate.”

You put on a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “I don’t have years worth of vacation banked up like you.”

“What about the weekend?”

“I’ll have plans.”

“They’re more important than me?”

“Maybe.”

“I like this new side of you, (Y/N),” Charlie remarked with a smirk. The same smirk that would’ve sent a heart-stopping shockwave through your body last week and left you dreaming the whole night. “I didn’t know you could tease like that.”

You now felt nothing but annoyance. Charlie obviously didn’t care enough to ask who your friends were or why you were blowing him off like this.

“Thank you, Charlie,” you said amicably. “I’ll see you soon.”

With that, you slipped out from the gap underneath his arm and hurried to the lift.

Fred and George were more than ready to go when you joined them on the main floor of their shop. It was pitch-black outside and the shop was long closed, but they’d left a side door open for you. George already had a potent shot prepared for you which you happily accepted.

“To another one of (Y/N)’s successful schemes!” proclaimed George as he clinked glasses with you and Fred. You threw back the shot with the boys.

“What was the scheme again?” Fred set his glass down and exhaled in pleasure. “That’s some good stuff.”

”I think it was to throw her bloodhound parents off her scent,” George said. “By using Charlie.”

“Or to seduce our brother.”

George nodded. “We may never know (Y/N)’s true intentions.”

“Hey!” you protested. “That was not the reason.”

“I don’t know,” George tutted. “You seem to rather fancy living with him.”

“He’s not a terrible roommate. I like that he doesn’t talk incessantly like some people. You know, by trying to fill in any quiet gap.”

It was Fred’s turn to protest. “Hey!”

“It’s true, though!” you laughed. “Charlie said you told him about our adventures in Care of Magical Creatures. Is that any detail you couldn’t have spared?”

“Oh, of course,” Fred stated. “There isn’t a soul in the world who doesn’t know about your failed adventures.”

You went quiet. The rush of bantering with Fred and George was washing out into a muted anger. So, Fred did tell Charlie you’d failed. Your voice was low when you asked: “Is that how you described it? My failed adventures?”

Fred stroked his chin. “Something like that. Maybe not those exact words. I said it was interesting he’d spend so much time around someone the complete opposite of him.”

“No, I reckon those were the exact words you used,” George said with a laugh. Neither men had picked up on the way your jaw tensed. “Don’t sugarcoat it.”

“How do you do reckon we’re the opposite?” you asked. You had to know.

Fred, still oblivious to the fact you were getting upset, answered honestly. “He’s a natural with beasts and creatures. You’ve no instinct for them—”

“And Quidditch, and the opposite sex,” George added. “Amongst other things.”

If this conversation had occurred on any other day, you would’ve belly-laughed yourself into the ground; you knew your faults. But today wasn’t any other day. You still had unresolved pain to contend with. Your mind instantly jumped back to Charlie and Mallory. Mallory was probably great at handling creatures and Quidditch, and if she had Charlie in the bag, then she was great with the opposite sex.

“Is there anything you can’t keep to yourself?” you snapped. Fred finally picked up on your cues, your question slapping the grin off of his face. “Why do you have to hold the fact I failed that stupid elective over my head?”

“Whoa—what’s this about? You haven’t cared about this in 10 years.” Fred said in defence.

“What makes you think I don’t care? I don’t go around telling people what you’ve failed!”

“It’s just Charlie, (Y/N),” Fred rationalized. “He won’t hold it over your head.”

“I’m sorry, you mean the Charlie whom I’ve barely met until this September?” You inched closer to Fred. You wanted to hammer the point home, make him feel sorry for the first time in his life. “How about you give someone a chance to meet me before you give them an opinion of me?”

“Hey, I didn’t mean—”

“(Y/N), really,” George stepped in against your wishes, “He’s our brother, we know him. He really doesn’t care.”

You wanted to scream. “Why do you think it’s just about Charlie?” But it was, it really was. “It’s about how you treat me in front of other people. Do you find it so humorous to take jabs at me?”

“Of course not!” Fred responded hastily, genuine worry in his eyes. “(Y/N), let me—”

You pounded the table with your palm. “Just forget it!”

The shot glasses rattled. Fred took a step back.

George’s eyebrows furrowed. “(Y/N), let Fred—”

You threw your arms up in the air, exasperated. “Why don’t you talk to me when you’re ready to apologize?”

You grabbed your coat and stomped out of the shop and out onto the cold, cobbled street. The door swung shut behind you and blocked out any last apologies if any were to be had. You waited for a couple seconds. Fred didn’t bother to follow you out. Of course he wouldn’t. And you weren’t going to look back to confirm it.

Diagon Alley was afflicted with wintry darkness and a nippy front. It only got worse as you walked on, your face battered by headwinds. The cold winds stung your cheeks and froze the tears that had begun forming in your eyes. Not only was your friendship with Charlie deteriorating right in front of you, but you were letting how you felt about him dictate your feelings towards other people: Fred who unwaveringly had your back, and George who was just trying to help. You lost both of them in the span of one night and it was all your fault.

As much as you tried to shake off your last name, you were a Malfoy through and through. Pleasant when people served your purpose, cold when you got what you wanted. You deserved to be standing here, shivering as you walked down the street with no one rushing up to put an arm or coat around you.

Now where were you going to go? You couldn’t find refuge within your family. Hadn’t you worn down your relationship with them because of Charlie, too? You couldn’t go back to the shop with Fred and George—you were sure they resented you. You couldn’t go back to your apartment. But why even consider that? Charlie was probably taking advantage of your outing to escape under the covers with Mallory.

And Charlie, oh, Charlie. If he wasn’t going to like you because of your poor handling of magical creatures, then he certainly wasn’t going to like you after the way you treated his brothers—his family. You kicked up a patch of dirt in anger and let the loose soil splay over your stockings.

The thought of being alone and the pain shooting up your toe released the tears you’d been holding back. Once you started, you couldn’t stop. The salty stream trickled down your skin until they caught on the corners of your lips. You pulled your scarf upwards to mute the sob working its way up to your throat. And much like your tears, once the cries started, you couldn’t stop.

You woke the next morning with a strong ache in your back and a pounding headache. Your lips were chapped, glued in certain spots from the lack of water. You pushed yourself off the scratchy pillowcase, your movement stirring a creak in the bed. The cloth that wrapped around the lamp beside you was mottled, and the gold paint scratched away to reveal the harsh grey base layer.

Your sense of hearing came back when the pounding of your head retreated, but it was only to make way for the thudding of bodies and moans spilling out on the other side of the thin wall. Your sense of smell came alive next, picking up on the smell of bacon grease wafting upwards through the floorboards. As if you couldn’t feel sicker.

How the mighty (Y/N) Malfoy had fallen, you thought as you scrunched up the starchy bedsheets. From her canopy bed in her mansion to a paper-thin mattress in a sketchy motel she checked herself into because she had nowhere else to go.

In the washroom, you did your best to comb out your hair with your fingers and wipe off the smudged makeup from under your eyes. You’d figure out the wrinkled clothing later on. At the very least, your topcoat would conceal the fact you slept in last night’s clothes. When you deemed yourself presentable, you walked onto the street and turned towards a different coffee shop.

A rush of blonde hair suddenly obfuscated your peripheral vision. You stumbled from the impact of two girls grazing your sides. You looked up in confusion at what had just happened.

“Girls, come back here,” a stern voice called out.

The two girls turned back but caught your eyes first.

“(Y/N)?” the taller one called out.

Okay, now you were even more confused. “Clara?”

“That’s me!” she said. Clara ran over and threw herself in your arms. Still in a state of shock, you returned the hug.

If this was Clara, then there was only one possibility as to who the other girl was. “Hello, Charlotte,” you greeted. Charlotte came sprinting over in a frenzy and enveloped you from the side.

You never understood how Clara and Charlotte weren’t twins. They had a whole two years of genetic possibilities separating them, but they still maintained so much likeliness. It was as if Aunt Rosamund and your Uncle Leon copied and imprinted preset genes into their offspring. They both had Aunt Rosamund’s platinum blonde hair though wispier and wavier. They were both small and nimble, fairy-like in their stature. It was impossible to detach either girl from their love of reading fantasy and romance novels. You supposed childish wonder helped preserve their everlasting youth.

Given that Clara and Charlotte were here, it could only mean one thing. The woman who’d called for them was none other than—

You turned around. “Hello, Aunt Rosamund.”

Aunt Rosamund quirked a pointed eyebrow at you, her inquisitive green eyes sweeping you up and down. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a tight bun. Her silver hoop earrings perfectly complemented her white suit and cloak. She twisted her mouth which pulled her cheekbones—looking so much like her older brother, Lucius, in the process—meaning she was ready to pass judgement. You braced yourself.

”Goodness, you look terrible, (Y/N). Did you sleep on the streets yesterday?”

Ouch. Well, at least it wasn’t your Uncle Theo. Things could be worse.

“I had a long night. It’s been busy at work,” you responded.

“You may benefit from a de-puffing potion,” Aunt Rosamund continued, now staring into your eyes. “I have a contact in Luxembourg who is the Chief of Operations at a cosmetic company that carries simply the best line of anti-aging products. I’ll set an appointment up for you.”

You touched your face, fingers grazing swells of your eyelids from all the crying you did last night. “Oh, this is temporary. It’ll fade.”

“Hm,” Aunt Rosamund said, half-believing you as she pressed her red lips together.

“She doesn’t look like a vagabond, mother. I like it. It’s rather bohemian,” Charlotte commented sweetly as she smoothed out your topcoat for you. “And (Y/N) looks even more youthful with her puffy eyes.” Alright, bohemian and youthful—you’d take it.

“So, what are you girls doing here?” you asked, trying to move the limelight away from your appearance.

“We wanted to see Christmas in London!” Charlotte piped up.

Clara sighed wistfully. “There’s a certain sense of romance that lingers in the air here that you can’t find anywhere else.”

You were gobsmacked. These girls had the entirety of Europe in their little hands and they wanted to see Christmas here? “Really?“

“You should know, (Y/N)! You live here,” Charlotte harped.

Even more puzzled, you stated: “It’s only November.”

Charlotte took your hand. “Sure, but we have to be back in Switzerland in December. And I can’t wait for you to visit us then.”

You squeezed her palm affectionately. “Me neither.”

”Come on, girls,” Aunt Rosamund called. “We have to be on our way to brunch. You can discuss your plans with (Y/N) when we arrive at your uncle Lucius’s at noon.”

“See you later, (Y/N)!” Charlotte said, giving you one last hug, before running off to her mother.

“Bye, (Y/N)!” Clara repeated.

As the three ladies ambled on, you stood there motionless, wondering what the hell you had missed.

Charlie was on the couch when you ran into your apartment. You huffed as you shut the door, having sprinted here to make the best of the hour you were given before you had to be back at the Manor.

“Hey,” was the first thing out of Charlie’s mouth when he saw you. Were your eyes betraying you, or did he genuinely look concerned? “Where were you last night?”

“Uhm,” you stammered, his question really wedging you in between a rock and a hard place. Should you lie or lie? You didn’t feel like divulging about the night you spent crying in a dirt-cheap inn. “With Fred and George.”

Charlie’s shoulders released in relief. “That’s good. I was a little concerned when you didn’t come home.”

Well, didn’t that make two of you?

“I’m going to freshen up. I have family visiting today.”

Charlie perked up. Begrudgingly, you attempted to read him. Was he excited that you were going to be gone? Your absence would surely afford him more opportunities with Mallory.

“Which side?” he asked. “Mum, dad?”

“My father’s.”

“Is it your Uncle Theo or Aunt Rosamund?”

You raised your eyebrows. “You remember?”

“I couldn’t forget your fantastic descriptions. So, who is it?”

“My Aunt Rosamund.”

“Do you need me to accompany you?”

Sharply, you said: “No.”

“Alright then,” Charlie said, falling back on the couch. “Don’t forget about me.”

“I’ll try my best, Charlie, no promises.”

You opened the door to your room and rummaged through the closet for an outfit that wouldn’t suffer the scrutiny of Aunt Rosamund. You heard the thud of footsteps drawing closer and stopped.

“Before you go, (Y/N), can you think over one thing for me?” Charlie asked.

You almost laughed when you spun around. Charlie’s head looked like it was decapitated and hanging from the way he positioned himself at the door. “Depends on what it is.”

“Is there any Thursday and Friday you could take off?”

You frowned.

Like how Alicia’s stories usually went, this was the part where the guy (Charlie) would try to win your affections back after realising you’d turned cold. Shower you with praise and compliments and his undivided attention. Charlie was about to feed and rescue you from the famine he started. And when you thought you were safe in his arms, he was sure to starve you for good.

You weren’t going to let that happen. You weren’t going to be a crumpled mess on the floor again.

“Sure,” you said coolly. “I’ll think about it.”

However deflated you sounded, it didn’t impact Charlie in the slightest. He looked as gleeful as the day he’d gotten his Hogwarts acceptance letter. “Aren’t you going to ask why?”

You placed a hand on your hip, willing to humour him one last time. “Alright, why, Charlie?”

When the response spilled from Charlie’s lips, you realised you had no playbook to navigate the question he’d just posed.

>> NEXT CHAPTER (COMING SOON)!

CHAPTER DIRECTORY

@badgerqueen07 @superduckmilkshake @k-k-merlin @kisskittenn @pluiesdefleurs@lilianelena39 @bathwater101 @evilunicorns4minions @noah-uhhh-what @earth-to-lottie @kissingyourgrl @sihtricswife @adalia-jaycee @anuttellaa @weasley-clan @morks-watermelon @nobodysbabydoll @annoyingbean630 @bathwater101 @ladylizzieofdarbyshire

#charlie weasley x oc #charlie weasley imagine #charlie weasley x reader #charlie weasley x you

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gutterfuuck · 3 days

Note

Can I request a mark drabble w/ breeding kink 👉👈 I'd love either bff mark or sinister mark but if you go the sinister route can I be a bit of a coward and ask that he be a little. Softer. Maybe specifically for the reader bc I am a little pansy and I get unrealistically offended when I'm condescended or treated like property, and while it would be hot if this man talked down to me I would also be inclined to punch him in the baby maker and then we'd all suffer bc no smut would ensue 😭

Sorry, I just dumped a bit of unwarranted baggage on u there but you come off as really sweet in all your posts so I hope it didn't bother you too much! Thank you for all of your posts btw your writing is delicious! Also your English is very good, you have a great grasp of the language and I respect and appreciate all the effort you must put into making all of your writing so articulate. English especially is said to be very hard to learn so I immensely respect the effort that goes into it, regardless of any/how much help you require/accept to do so. Manifesting a mild inconvenience to that anon a while back who accused you of faking for some reason I hope they step on a wet kitchen tile while wearing socks or something and rethink how they choose to speak to people online. 😊♡

hello anon!! thank you so much for your considerations, maybe it is because i am emotional since i get very choked up when it is birthday season but this had made me cry happy tears 😭😭 also, i agree!! if anyone was to talk to me like i am disposable in real life, i think that i would break down and disintegrate haha!! it is not cowardly to ask for things, do not be swayed!! baggage is never unwanted here, i am the baggage 😂!! i will do the upmost of my best ability, as i have been waiting to write for s!mark again 🤭🤭 also, i do agree people should be more mindful about what they say to others! you never know what anyone is going through, just because you can hide behind a screen mask doesn’t mean you should or can be mean to people!! i do not judge those who do though, they will learn as months and years pass, people do learn and change!!

cw: mdni, smut, breeding kink, just a little drable to warm up my fingers hehe!! minor injury, reader patches him up

you could hear your husband come crashing through the juliet balcony of your bedroom, bumping into the bed and waking you up fully. you bolted up, scanning the darkness of the room and staring at the silhouette of your lover, crouched over in the shadows. “mark?” you peep, eyes still adjusting as you clicked on the bedside lamp, your eyes instantly closing when the brightness took you by surprise.

he looks back at you, pulling his mask with its flimsy broken black goggles off of his face and discarding it to the floor with a heavy sigh. mark always found it so cute how you’d gasp with your hands flying to cover your mouth when he returned with an injury, your worried eyes looking him over as you jump out from under the covers, hands flying up to cover his cheeks and observe his cut nose bridge, one of his eyes squinted due to the budding bruise on his upper cheekbone, “gonna nurse me back to health, baby?” he asks, smiling down at you and placing a kiss to your forehead. he listens to you lecture him about being careful when visiting other planets, rolling his eyes like he’d really just die like that. you knew he was tough, but it didn’t hurt to be concerned.

he sits on the side of the bathtub in the bathroom, tilting his face to the side so you could rub his injuries down with antiseptic solution, mumbling something about how he was still half human so he still had to be a little careful. he didn’t know how many times he’d had to tell you that even though he was still half human everything else was 100% brutal alien. each time he told you, you ignored it. maybe you liked patching him up, placing cute bandages on his face to stop his bleeding. he was hardly injured but he’d be damned if he didn’t let his cute little wife dote on him like this, the sleeves of your fluffy gown he’d bought home for you rolled up your arms as you fiddle with the first aid kit.

“y’know what’d me me feel better?” mark says, taking your hands into his. god, he could just crush you right now, you were so adorable. you hum in response, intertwining your fingers with his as he brings them to his lips, trailing kisses up your arm and pulling you closer, inching towards you slowly. your mouth hangs open with a breathless silent mewl as his lips stop just by your jawline, finding it hard to hold himself back from nipping your skin and marking you up. you nod at his earlier question which draws a chuckle from him, hands moving down to grip your hips and pull you onto his lap, “let’s go to bed, then.”

you’ve got your face in the crook of his neck, holding onto his back as he pistoned his hips in and out of your tight heat, never being shameful of your moans. music to his ears, he thought, letting you cry out so desperately into the night. if you had neighbours you’re sure they’d complain. he groaned when he felt you clench around him, muscled thighs stuttering for a moment as you suffocated his cock within your walls. “oh, babygirl-“ he tilts his head back, holding you firmly as your legs wrap around his waist, practically bouncing you up and down on his dick himself, “m-mark..-!” you squeal, voice raspy and throat dry when you feel him buck up into your g-spot, weeping head poking at it repeatedly, trying to pull your orgasm out of you. you whine loudly, holding onto him like you’d fall apart if you let go.

“shhh, s’okay, hold onto me like that, there we go.” mark comforts you, such a strange comparison from when he’s out causing mayhem to now. if those who opposed him were to see him right now, they’d think he’d be a different person. he was so soft with you, treated you like you were made of porcelain and you loved it. you were glad that you’d somehow tamed him in a way, molded him into your perfect husband as he made you into his perfect wife. domestic bliss.

you stifle your noises with his shoulder, softly biting on it as he snapped his hips up into yours vigorously, his own orgasm approaching hard and fast. you could feel the way his cock throbbed inside of you, the way he slowed his hips a little before trying to keep up his pace. “so tight, always so perfect n’ tight f’me, aren’t you?” you nod brainlessly into his shoulder and he coos at you, eyebrows furrowed together as he gasps lightly.

“i’m gonna cum, princess.” he says breathlessly, humping against you for his own orgasm, “inside…” you whisper to him and he almost loses it right there, almost falls over when he thinks about the implications it might have. “inside? yeah-fuck, gonna let me cum inside, just for me?” mark pants, pussydrunk figure caging you in under him as he chases his orgasm, “gimme a kid… f-fuck, gimme a baby, wanna make you a mama… g’na look so perfect— fuh-uck..!” he babbles, vision blanking as he cums inside of you, wave after wave of his warm seed spilling into your cunt, seeping into your womb. he canted his hips a few more times, almost fucking himself into overstimulation as he continued talking, “..gonna give me a mini me, huh? complete our little family?” he asks as you nod in agreement, too fucked out to even process what he’d said to you just now.

#💬 sparkie is typing…#mark grayson x reader #dark blog #mark grayson smut #invincible x reader #invincible smut #sinister!mark

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steddieas-shegoes · 8 months

Note

all the prompts are so good buuut i’d like to request “36. you were put on this earth to give me a headache” please and honestly any rating is good (i can’t make decisions so u get to do that sorry)

i hope you’re having a good day and that all the writing goes well <3

Thank you so much, love 💖 So far, the writing has been going a lot better than most of the last few weeks!!!

Rated M (suggestive language, allusions to sex) | make me write!

"I thought practice was canceled."

Steve looked at Eddie and Gareth, who were, for some reason, playing the loudest possible music in his garage.

Which was fine, and totally normal. But not tonight.

Eddie called him at work to let him know the guys had to cancel, something about their parents making them do some graduation dinner that Gareth's parents must not have heard about or cared about.

Because Gareth was here. In Steve's garage. With Eddie. Playing his drums while Eddie played his guitar.

"Stevie! I thought you were asleep!" Eddie exclaimed, beaming at him as if he couldn't read Steve's extremely annoyed face.

"I was. Until you decided to open for Metallica in my garage."

To give Steve some credit, he'd been nursing a minor headache for most of the day, and the sudden loud noise had only made it worse. He probably wouldn't have been so annoyed if he'd been given a heads up.

"Gareth wanted to work on some stuff. That's okay, right?" Eddie seemed to be catching on to the attitude, and maybe even to the fact that the last thing he told Steve about practice was that it wasn't happening.

"You were put on this earth to give me a headache. I'm going back to bed," Steve sighed.

He was tired, and his head was pounding behind his eyes in a way that made him nervous for what he would end up with if he didn't go back to sleep now.

Just when he made it back through the door into the hallway leading into the house, Eddie's arm wrapped around his middle.

"I was put on this earth to make them better, too," he said against his shoulder.

Steve couldn't help relaxing against him, his annoyance mostly gone and replaced with sheer exhaustion.

His head rested against Eddie's shoulder, eyes closing as he let out a long breath.

"Sorry, Eds. Just been a long day."

"Don't be sorry. I shoulda told you we were still gonna practice for a bit," Eddie kissed his shoulder, then his neck. "I'll send him home and come give you a massage?"

Steve snorted.

"A massage? My head up here hurts, not the one down there."

Eddie bit his shoulder, not hard, just the way he did whenever his mouth was close to Steve's skin, playfully.

"If one feels good, the other will too," he insisted.

"Finish practice and if I'm still awake, then...maybe."

Eddie smacked a kiss on his cheek before running back towards the garage.

"Gimme five minutes!" he yelled over his shoulder.

Steve laughed, shaking his head before walking back up to their his bedroom.

He slipped his pants off before getting under the covers, already knowing that Eddie would be doing whatever it took to make his headache feel better.

Eddie liked "natural remedies" for headaches, usually involving his mouth, usually nowhere near where the pain actually was.

Steve was loathe to admit it, but it did usually help, even if the reason was because it made him fall asleep faster.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #make me write

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buckys-black-dress · 11 months

Text

heaven won't be the same

a/n: hello!!!!! i know it's been, like, a really really long time since i've written for you guys. depression + nursing school = even worse depression. anyways, here's something that i wrote to just kinda get me back into the groove of writing. enjoy!

wc: 5.7k words

warnings: NONE. she's chill today.

[ bucky barnes x nurse!fem!reader ]

Is this is the right place?

Looks like it. Just knock. What's the worst that could happen?

Your hand lifts, albeit hesitantly, and raps against the wooden door.

You wait a moment before you hear shuffling on the other side, and then the lock turning and the door opens.

The blond who opens it stares at you, searching for some sort of recognition in your eyes, but comes up a bit short.

"Can I help you?" He asks slowly, clearly confused.

"Hi, I'm Y/N. I can't remember which one of you I spoke with, I think his name was Sam. But I'm here to look at the room you guys are renting?" You ask gently, maybe you were in the wrong place.

"Oh! You're Y/N! Yes, yeah, I know who you are, come in." Recognition dawns on the blue-eyed boy's face. "By the way, I'm Steve. I don't know how much Sam has told you about us but I wasn't expecting a girl to want to live with three guys." He chuckles and you return the laugh.

"Yeah, I mean I was a bit hesitant at first because I thought I'd get murdered by you guys or something, but Sam made it very clear that you're all very nice people and won't watch me while I sleep." You reply with a small smile.

Steve looks at you in silence.

"Just kidding!" You let out a laugh. "But my mom was a bit worried about me living with three men, but I convinced her nothing bad was going to happen. I hope."

"Hey, seriously though, we wouldn't want to make you feel unsafe. I know being a woman in this day and age in New York can be... less than pleasant. We're big on respect here at 6A." He flashes you a smile that for sure has made a girl weak in the knees before.

"Thanks, Steve. I appreciate that. I mean I know you guys probably weren't expecting a girl as your fourth roommate, so I'm just happy to find space where I can."

"I mean, hey, it's not what we were expecting, but we're not picky people." Steve shrugs. "Wanna take a look at your room? Then we can go from there and get your stuff moved in."

"Sure, sounds great!"

He leads you down the hallway and opens a door, revealing the room you saw on the listing.

After chattering about the room and how they were excited to have you live with them, he takes you back to main living area to wrap up any other loose ends.

"Alright, so like I said we do have two bathrooms so you might have to share with Bucky, since his room is also on that side of the apartment but that shouldn't be a problem. And also, I can help move in your things if you don't wanna go through the hassle of getting moving guys and all that."

"Oh, you don't have to do that for me, I don't mind at all-"

"Hey, no worries, I'm happy to help." Steve smiles and you nod in response.

"Thanks. I didn't know I'd be getting such a deal moving in with you guys." You laugh.

"I'm just happy to help. I'm sure Sam and Buck can also help since they'll be around later tonight."

And so it began.

All of your boxes were in the rented U-Haul at the front of your new home. You text Steve to let him know you're downstairs, and a feeling sits in your gut.

You were nervous to live with three random stranger men. Granted, Sam and Steve were both so nice, and you really are getting a great deal with this apartment, being so close to your work and all.

"Hey Y/N! Let's get this show on the road." Steve comes outside, guns blazing, (literally, have you seen his biceps?), and ready to work.

It only takes an hour or so to get all your things inside, and Sam was waiting inside to take things directly to your new room. Although you still haven't met Bucky, you knew it couldn't be too bad. Steve and Sam were angels.

The first time you met Bucky was when he returned from his shift. He worked as a bartender. He had odd hours and often didn't come back until 3 AM most nights that he worked.

Hence, the reason why he was confused when he saw you in the kitchen in the middle of the night.

"Hey... who are you?" He asked, dropping his keys into the bowl next to the door.

"Oh!" Your head whipped around at the sound of the door shutting "Steve mentioned that you worked weird hours. I'm Y/N." You extend your hand to him. "I'm the new roommate. I hope they told you about me." You huff out a laugh, hoping he wouldn't be completely weirded out by you.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry, I totally missed that you were moving in today. Don't worry, they did mention you." He returned your smile while shaking your hand.

His large, callused hand engulfing yours made your heart pound in your chest. Jesus. Are all the guys who live here male models? What the hell?

"Well, it was really nice meeting you, Y/N. I'm gonna head to bed, work totally got me shot. I'll see you in the morning?"

"Yeah, yes. I'm usually out the door by 6:30 by the latest, so I'll catch you if you're up." You smile.

"6:30 in the morning? Yeah, no chance I'll see you then but you'll catch me before my shift. I forgot, Sam did mention you were a nurse."

"For sure, I also have the next day off so that'll probably be a bit more realistic."

"How about we go get breakfast that day? On me, consider it a welcome-to-the-apartment gift from me." Bucky's grin spreads across his face, and you can't help notice just how handsome he is.

"Deal, Bucky. Good night."

After you both got over the initial awkwardness, you and Bucky became the most unlikely pair. Sharing a bathroom was breeze, your schedules aligned perfectly some days, meaning that the two of you spent most of your free time together.

It was a strange feeling. You loved becoming friends with Bucky. He was so easy to talk to, and understood you better than most others. It was so natural and easy with him, like you'd known him forever.

But another part of you was falling for him, and you knew it. You chose to ignore it, deciding that it was silly and that you just liked him as a friend. A best friend, perhaps.

At times, he did little things that made you think otherwise, though.

The cuddling during movie nights. The 'I got this for you because it made me think of you's. It was something that ate at you daily.

You two practically did everything together. In a way, it was like being in a relationship, but with no pressure. No expectations. Just two people, hanging out and being there for the other. It meant nothing (but everything, at the same time.)

He was always there for you. After a hard shift, you came home and sat quietly while you talked about whatever it was that bothered you. And after his shifts at the bar, he did the same.

It was almost too easy, the way you two could fall into a rhythms so easily. It was so nice to have someone to have around after moving into a new place. You two clicked effortlessly, it seemed.

And of course, they don't call it falling in love for nothing.

Tonight, you had a night shift, which meant you went to bed all day until about 4 PM and then proceeded to get ready for your evening at the hospital.

You were in the bathroom washing your face and braiding your hair back, then pulling on your under-scrub top.

The door creaks open, revealing a smiling Bucky.

He's dressed head to toe in black; a tight t-shirt that looks like it's a size too small, black jeans, black leather boots, and finally, a leather jacket thrown over his arm.

"I hate when you have the night shift. I'm so lonely during the day, and of course you have it on my one night off." He whines, and you shoot him a look through the mirror.

"Well, I wouldn't have taken the night shift but they were offering extra pay since no one wanted to cover. Sorry, honey." You turn around and pat his chest to move him out of the doorway, an exaggerated pout on your face.

Fuck me, those eyes, Bucky thinks to himself at the gesture.

Your touch sent a flutter of butterflies against his stomach, making him move out of your way so you could pull on your socks and gather your things into your bag.

"Where are you all dressed up for on your night off then?" You ask out loud while stuffing your arms through your fleece jacket.

"I- uh, funny story, actually." He laughs out a cough, "I have a date." He presses his lips together.

"Oh. A date." You stop what you were doing, back turned to him.

You can feel his eyes burning through the back of your head, but you can't turn to face him right now. Snapping out your thoughts, you continue gathering your things.

"Yeah, this girl at the bar, she works as a waitress actually. She asked for my number, and well one thing led to another and-"

"You don't have to explain yourself to me, Buck. I'm happy for you. Have a great date, I have to run. Good luck." You muster the best smile you can in that moment and practically run out of your room.

"Wait, are you okay?" He asks in a rush, following close behind you.

"Of course I'm okay, why wouldn't I be? I have to get to work." You were almost an hour early. You stop to fill your water bottle from the fridge and make your escape. "I'll see you tomorrow!" You yell from the hallway before the door shuts, the slam resounding through the emptiness.

The moment of silence in the elevator gets you lost in your thoughts for a minute.

A date.

With a girl who works at the bar.

You don't know why this is hurting your chest so terribly. The thought of Bucky, your closest friend, going on a date, tugs at something.

Whatever happens, you know you can't say anything. It's not your place. You just have to let it run its course, whether it goes in a good direction or not. You have to just do your best to be happy for Bucky.

Meanwhile, back at the apartment;

"Did Y/N leave for work already?" Steve asks, coming out of his room.

"Yeah, she basically ran out even though her shift isn't til seven." Bucky's brows are furrowed, still standing in the middle of the kitchen thinking about how you practically raced to get away from him.

"Why'd she leave so early?" Steve asks in confusion, eyes flashing to the oven, seeing the digital clock flashing 5:56 PM. "It only takes her like 20 minutes to get there."

While discussing, Sam pops out of his own bedroom, listening in on the conversation between the two.

"I don't know, we were just talking about plans tonight and she got really weird, all of a sudden. She grabbed all her stuff for her shift and just bolted." Bucky was incredibly confused, and it was clear in his tone and facial expression.

He looked like a lost puppy.

"So what are you doing tonight?" Sam asks, wondering what was bothering you. Maybe it was something Bucky said?

"I was just hanging out in her room while she was getting ready, and then she asked what I was dressed for and I told her about that girl, Christina, the one from the bar that asked for my number and asked to go on a date. Then she basically ran." Bucky shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know what even happened, she even said I 'don't have to explain myself to her,' and that she had to leave."

Steve and Sam shoot a look between each other, the latter breathing out a deep sigh.

"What? What's that sigh?" Bucky asks.

"Nothing, Buck. Have you thought that maybe the date was what was bothering her? You two spend a lot of time together, and maybe she feels a little... blindsided by this date." Steve reasons.

"What? Why would she feel blindsided? I tell her everything. She tells me everything. That's just how we are." Bucky responds with a shake of the head, hands flailing in the air.

"But what about her? Does she tell you about the dates she goes on?" Sam asks, and Bucky's brows furrow.

"What dates? She goes on dates? With who?"

Another look shared between Steve and Sam.

"See, maybe she doesn't go on dates. I really don't know. But that reaction is why she felt hurt by you telling her about you going on a date." Steve explains.

Bucky's lost.

"She has feelings for you, Buck. She has feelings and she's hurt that you're going on a date because she never goes on dates, and now she's realizing that she's going to get left behind in the dust when you meet another girl." Sam supplies.

Now Bucky's even more lost.

"But... why wouldn't she tell me she has feelings for me? She's never even indicated that there was anything she felt for me more than friends do." He explains, now wracking his brain for every single interaction you two have had.

"Listen... we don't know what goes on when you guys are alone. But what I do know is that you guys spend a lot of time together, and I think you guys both have some... unspoken feelings for each other."

Bucky stands there, contemplating what this meant. What was he saying? That he should come clean to you about his feelings for you? That going on this date tonight would be a mistake?

Fuck, the date.

"Listen, I gotta go. My date's expecting me." Bucky quickly dismisses the entire conversation, putting him arms through the arms of his leather jacket before heading out the door.

Another sigh was shared between the two men left behind in the apartment.

There were pros and cons to working the night shift.

Pros included that it was calm, most of the time. Nights meant time to catch up on charting and paperwork while patients slept, checking in on them when needed.

Cons included the fact that one of the major thoughts blaring in your mind was 'WHILE YOU'RE SITTING HERE MEASURING THIS PATIENT'S OUTPUT, BUCKY IS ON A DATE WITH A SUPER HOT GIRL FROM HIS WORK!!!'

It sucked.

You wished you could shut it off. Of course, you always had to make sure you were giving your patients the best care possible, but your mind was plagued.

Would you ever tell him how you felt? Could you ever take that risk? The thought of even telling him, let alone being rejected, makes you sick to your stomach.

He would never speak to you again. It would be weird between you two, and then it would be weird between everyone in the apartment, and you would never be able to show your face again and would have to move out. There’s no other feasible option.

Unless…

Unless Bucky liked you back.

But you don’t even let your mind wander there, because you couldn’t even stomach the thought of not being around them. They were your family, the people you spent the most time with, the ones you could always count on when you had a rough day or needed a shoulder to lean on. Especially Bucky.

You simply couldn’t lose them.

And so, your night shift went on and the world still spun, even with your feelings buried deep in your chest.

When you walked into your apartment at 7:30 AM, there were some things you noticed that weren’t there when you had left.

First, it was the pretty black kitten heels by the door that certainly weren’t yours.

Then, for example, a cute leather purse hanging from a barstool by the kitchen island that wasn’t yours.

You put two and two together, and despite the harsh clench of your chest, you decided you were too tired to even think about all this right now. You just needed to take a shower and go straight to bed.

After staying true to your words, you had just shut the door to the bathroom when you heard it open again. Then, the water running from the tap, and then you see the handle of your door turning.

Immediately, you throw yourself under your covers and act like you had already been asleep. You simply couldn’t face Bucky right now. Not after knowing that he brought that girl home, and not after she was probably still in his bed. That was just too far for you.

With your face away from the door, you try and make your breaths as even as possible, hearing the door click open.

You could feel Bucky’s eyes burning into you, but you weren’t giving yourself away. You needed sleep before dealing with this.

Once you hear the door shut, you let out a big breath, your heart practically leaping out of your chest. And with that breath, you allow your eyes to only well with tears, but not letting them fall.

You woke again at 3 PM, but with knowing you had the next day off you weren’t in any rush to start your day. You didn't even want to move. You felt as though you got hit by a bus, between the racing thoughts about... well you know who they were about; and then piled on with the unexpected code in the middle of your shift, it was not a peaceful night.

You got your much needed rest, but you were in no mood to face Bucky right now.

But alas, your stomach spoke (rather growled violently), and you had to eat something before your stomach folded in on itself.

As you crack the door open to inspect the hall, you see that Bucky's door is closed but you hear noises from the direction of the living room.

You weigh your options.

Go out and make yourself something to eat and possibly face Bucky.

Starve.

Although the latter was looking like a great option, another whoosh from your stomach made you man up and step out of the room.

You couldn't even bring yourself to look at who was in the apartment, eyes dead-set on the pasta sauce you knew was in the fridge.

"Hey, Y/N! How was the night shift?" Sam's chirpy question came from the couch.

"It was alright, had a code but he pulled through. What did you two get up to last night?" You ask, seeing that Steve and Bucky were sitting on the couch opposite to Sam.

You couldn't even look him in the eye, while you knew he was watching you.

"Not much, just had a few beers and chilled til Buck got back, caused quite the ruckus." Sam lets out a laugh, but the words pierced through your heart as you pour the pasta into the boiling pot of water you'd set on the stove.

"Oh, nice." You reply, albeit shortly. You didn't know what to say. But of course, your mouth runs farther ahead than your brain. "How was that date, Bucky?"

You didn't care how the date was. You know she came back here, and you had absolutely zero interest in finding out what they did together. You couldn't handle hearing him tell you about it.

"It was... it was good. She came back here after." Was all he said. He looked at you with those wide, crazy eyes. You wanted to crumble under his gaze, but instead you just turned around to focus on your food.

"Nice. Great. I'm glad it went well for you." You said, not facing him.

The three boys give each other a look, and the tension could be cut with a knife.

Another loud growl from your stomach.

Fuck.

You check and the pasta is cooked. You drain it, pour your sauce and cheese, and practically sprint back to your room with a resounding click of your door through the apartment. Dishes be damned.

Outside, breaths were still held.

"Jesus, Sam. Could you have made it sound worse than it was?" Bucky grits through his teeth, pushing his shoulder aggressively.

"Well, you did bring her back here. Did I misspeak?" He responds.

"No, but we just hung out! Nothing even happened! Why is this even so awkward between us? It's not a crime if I did sleep with her." Bucky defends, but is confused about this situation.

"Well, it wouldn't be a crime, but it sure wouldn't be a good thing that you slept with someone else when you clearly have feelings for her!" Steve chimes in as quietly as possible.

You feel so stupid.

The urge hits you like a truck.

Should you also be going on dates? What was it that was so deeply holding you back from doing what Bucky's doing?

You could make all the excuses you want; busy with work, too tired, and that you were happy with your friendships and current relationships, even if they were all platonic.

But that was all before, when you thought Bucky felt the same.

You thought that he was also happy with the way you two were. Doing all the things people in relationships do, but not speaking out about those deeply-buried feelings. And that was enough. You didn't need someone to tell you they loved you as more than a friend, you didn't need that yearning feeling to be filled.

It was all bullshit, anyways. Right?

Right?

Right.

He could date people and have a girlfriend that he could do all those things with.

It didn't matter.

Because apparently, you weren't that person to him.

So you would just have to accept that and move on with your life.

Alone.

Again.

"Again with these damn feelings! You two don't even know your heads from your asses, and you wanna tell me about how my feelings!" Bucky scrambles for words. He feels hot and uncomfortable all over, all the while trying to not raise his voice.

"Bucky! You felt that tension in here? Right? That was because she had a problem! And it could all easily fixed if you just said, 'Hey, I know this is crazy, but I like you! And I didn't sleep with anyone else because of that!' Huh? How 'bout that?" Sam suggests, like it was the easiest thing to do in the world.

"Yeah, and what if she laughs in my face? What if that's totally not the case?!" Bucky responds.

"Buck, I think you just need to trust us on this one. She likes you and you like her. I don't know what else to tell you to make you understand." Steve finally sighs and drops his shoulders, over this whole conversation.

"Listen, she has tomorrow off. If you two end up hanging out, you need to say something. The tension is just too much." Sam just sighs and turns the TV on, preemptively ending the conversation.

Bucky just went into his room, placed his headphones over his head, and spent some time alone to think.

Let's think rationally.

You went on a date, and you didn't sleep with her.

What Bucky was coming to realize, is that there was a reason he didn't sleep with her.

He just couldn't.

It felt wrong, like he knew that there was a reason why he couldn't do it, subconsciously.

And he fully went into the date wanting to sleep with her. That was his goal. But he knew that if he did, it would be the point of no return. For some reason, he just felt it in his gut.

Realistically, even if I slept with her, I probably would've been sick with myself. I couldn't even face her after that.

But why?

Because you like her, you absolute moron.

He thinks of all the moments shared between you two. The stares, the cuddling, the innocent touches that drove him insane. All of those things added up in his mind to become one big jumble of feelings and now his brain felt like it was going to burst from how much this was all hitting him at once.

He springs off his bed.

Before he even turns the corner into the living room, words are spilling out of his mouth.

"You know what, maybe subconsciously even my body knew not to sleep with her, but even then how could I know for sure she likes me?-"

But there you are, sitting between Steve and Sam, tears leaking out of the corners of your eyes, gazing up at him in shock.

Clearly, you three were in the middle of something.

"You didn't sleep with her?" Your voice is meek at the question.

"No. I couldn't do it." He says, like it was obvious.

"Why not?" You fire back.

"I- I just... can we not do this out here? Please?" Bucky practically begs. He can't confess his deep and utter devotion to you in front of his two best friends. They'd never let him live it down.

"Come with me." Bucky runs into his room, throwing you a hoodie of his that he knew you were partial to, and then slid on his own jacket. Shoes are stuffed onto his feet, and he sees you doing the same, but your eyes never leave his figure in confusion.

The keys are grabbed from the bowl, and the door swings open while he holds it open for you.

Before Bucky lets the door shut, he gives Sam and Steve a final look; meanwhile the two are jumping up and down and pumping their fists in the air silently. It was almost comical.

"Where are we going?" Your voice from behind him startles him a bit, forgetting what he was even supposed to be doing.

"Just- put this on, honey." He hands you his spare motorcycle helmet, and you almost want to protest, but you wanted to see where this was going.

So you comply and hold onto him for dear life while he weaves in and out of traffic.

He stops, finally, in front of the place you know Bucky always comes to when he has too much on his mind.

It's a wide expanse of the city, a rooftop that he somehow had access to; and you weren't sure what you were doing here.

"What are we doing here?" You don't even let your mind think about what he was here to tell you.

Was he here to break the news to you that he was seeing this girl?

But you still couldn't figure out why he would bring you here to tell you that, and why he hadn't slept with her last night. Did she mean more to him than he let on? Is that why he wanted to wait to sleep with her?

The thought sends you heart sinking into your stomach.

"I have something I need to tell you." Bucky pauses and gazes so deeply into your eyes, something swimming in his blue irises, but you couldn't tell what. That was what scared you the most.

"I... I haven't been completely honest with you about how I've been feeling as of late. And I can't keep... keep being dishonest to myself and you, Y/N."

Tears were welling against your lashline, begging to be released at his words.

This was it. It’s all about to be over for good.

He approaches closer, hands coming to your jawline; his hold so delicate and soft that it makes you even more upset.

"Y/N... You are the most important person in my life. I can't imagine sharing any part of my life without you. You're the only person I want to see when I have something on my mind, I yearn for your touch when you aren't there, and lately, I've been confused as hell trying to understand why." His soft voice makes you weak in the knees.

Cue more tears.

"I just... I'm sorry I waited so long to tell you. And I'm sorry I went on that date... I'm sorry for a lot of things."

"Can I ask you something?" You ask quietly.

"Of course, honey."

"Why didn't you sleep with her?"

The weight of the question sits heavily in the air, and Bucky's features soften a smidge.

"I couldn't do it. I tried to get myself into it, into her. Both figuratively and literally." He laughs at his own joke, "but no part of me wanted to spend time with her over you. All I could think about was you. The entire date, I was thinking about what you were doing. What you were thinking about. You're all that takes up my mind these days. It kills me, not being around you when you're gone. I wish I could express to you how much I love you, but there aren't any words that could explain the extent of my feelings for you, Y/N. All I can really say is that I love you. You're my best friend. I can't think of anyone else who has the same effect on me that you have."

All you can think of you when you hear those words is the pounding in your chest and the fluttering in your lungs.

A wet, snotty smile crosses your face and you let out a garbled laugh.

"You love me?" Your hands slide up his chest to his shoulders, fingers grasping onto them.

"For as long as I can remember, honey. You're everything to me. The stars, the moon, the sky. It's all you." He returns the same smile, large thumbs caressing under your eyes to swipe at the fallen tears at his admission. "Do you love me?"

The way he asks you the question makes it sound so minuscule, so minute and almost childish, because you think he knows the answer.

"I do. I love you so much that I can't even think properly when I'm around you, Bucky. You take up every inch of my heart and my mind. I love you." You confess, the words spilling out of you like they belonged to him.

The grin that stretches across his cheeks is almost unreal, like a cartoon character. You could practically see the hearts in his eyes at your words.

The kiss that he molds upon your lips with his own steals all the air out of your lungs, and while one of your hands threads through his soft locks at the nape of his neck and your eyes fall shut, the other slides down to his chest, resting right over his heart.

You feel it against your palm and fingers, the pounding of the organ at the feeling of finally kissing you.

You wish he could feel yours, equally as loud and obvious.

His own hands are cradling your cheeks ever so gently, but the way he's kissing you is anything but. It was full of want, need, yearning. Everything you’ve been waiting for for months, finally being released in this moment.

When he finally pulls away for air, your eyes remain closed. You never wanted this moment to end, and if you opened your eyes now, you're afraid you'll wake and this will all be a cruel dream.

"Let me see those eyes, sweetheart." He mumbles and you can almost feel the words against your lips.

When your eyes peel open again almost drowsily, Bucky's smile is all you see. His nose is still brushing against yours, and you feel weak in the knees all over again at the proximity.

"I love you. And you love me. You know what that means?" He says.

"What?" Is all you can muster to reply at the moment.

"It means I owe those two bozos at home an apology and a beer, probably."

The laugh that escapes you lights him up inside, the sound being his favorite thing in the world. If he could make you laugh forever, he'd die a happy man.

"They knew this whole time, y'know? They actually confronted me about it. I didn't even tell them first. I guess I was just that obvious." You laugh at the memory, Bucky fondly smiling.

"I expect nothing less from them. You should've seen Sam before I left last night. Acting like he was your dad or something." Bucky's large arms come to wrap around you, holding you against his body.

"Oh, I wouldn't wanna be on side of Sam's attitude. I'm glad you made it out alive." You giggle once more, arms looping around his neck.

"Now when we go back I'm gonna have to face the 'I told you so's' from them. Kill me now." He rolls his eyes at the thought.

"Well, if they kill you now, you wouldn't be able to take me out to dinner tomorrow night." You tell him coyly, like the idea was already put in place.

"Huh, seems like you're right, honey. Couldn't leave my one and only girl hanging."

Bucky finally releases you from his hold- not that you wanted to be released of it- and walks towards the stairwell to head back down.

"C'mon. We've got a movie and ice cream waiting for us at home, sweetheart." He holds out his hand, and you don't hesitate to leap forward and grab it in your own.

"Let's go, Buck. I have lots to tell you about my shift last night."

"Oh, I'm sure the night shift was just riveting." He laughs as he leads you down the steps.

"Yeah, well all I could really think about was you being on a date with that girl, so yeah, maybe not the most pleasant time to have all night to yourself." You scoff.

"Well, you're never gonna have to worry about that again, will you?" He steals another peck from your lips, the blush creeping across your face at the gesture.

"I suppose not, no."

fin.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky imagine #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes one shot #mimimi hey guys sorry it's been literally like a decade since i've posted real content but HERE SHE IS !!!

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vanwritesfan-fiction · 5 months

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Can u write a concept about Jack catching a cold and the girls being his nurse? The kids

You got an early start to the your Sunday, and breakfast was already on the table before Brooklyn and Aaliyah woke up. "Good Morning", you gave both girls a kiss on the head as you helped them sit down at the dining room table.

"Where's Daddy?" Brooklyn shrugged at your question as she took a bite of her pancakes. "He's still sweeping", Aaliyah grumbled out with her mouth full. She liked to sneak into your bed after you woke up and get a few minutes of cuddles in with Jack before the day began, but he would usually be downstairs by now. "I tried to wake him up, but he was snoring so loud!", she covered her ears dramatically, making you and Brooklyn giggle.

With the girls situated, you went upstairs to check on your husband. Sure enough, you could hear the loud snores from down the hall, and as soon as you laid eyes on him, his mouth agape as he tried to take breaths, his nose a bright red, you knew he wasn't feeling well.

You grabbed the thermal thermometer from the bathroom; sicknesses ran rampant in your home this time of year, so you always had one on hand, and pressed it to Jack's forehead, which startled him awake. "What're you doing?", he asked with his eyes still closed, his voice husky and congested. He let out a hard chest cough, wincing in pain as he looked up at you.

"101. I think you caught what Brooklyn had last week." You felt a couple other points of his face with the back of your hand to confirm. "No, that can't happen. I'm supposed to take the girls to the zoo today." He was trying to put on a brave face, but you could tell he was exhausted, his teeth chattering as he spoke.

"You can do it next weekend, the girls will understand. Try to get some sleep." You helped him get comfortable under the covers, and pressed a kiss to his forehead. You rolled your eyes as you felt his hand on the back of your thigh. "Jack..."

"Break out that nurses costume I know you have in the back of your closet. I'm in dire need of medical attention." His attempt at being sexy was pitiful as he snorted and wiped his nose with a tissue. "I think any help I try to give you will send you into cardiac arrest, baby." That got Jack's attention, his grip tightening around you. "You promise?" You playfully slapped his hand away, walking out of the room to get him some medicine. "If I die, I die!" He called after you, going into a coughing fit when he tried to laugh.

Jack had been tossing and turning for the last couple of hours, unable to get comfortable and sleep, when his bedroom door cracked open, Aaliyah's messy curls peaking through. "Daddy, are you wake?"

"Yes, baby, what do you need?" Jack sat up in bed, slipping his glasses on to see better. "We're here to take care of you!" The girls ran into the room, and jumped onto the bed, both wearing matching white doctor's coats with plastic stethoscopes hanging around their necks. "Mama said you needed a nurse, so we're here to help." Brooklyn nodded, placing her toys on the bed.

"Oh, your mama thinks she's funny, huh?" Jack spotted you hanging around the doorway, trying hard to stifle a laugh. "Have fun!", you joked, closing the door and going downstairs to try to get some chores done.

'What doesn't feel good, daddy?" Aaliyah asked, sitting in Jack's lap, her hands rested on his face. She was repeating what you and Jack always asked her whenever she felt sick. "Well, my head hurts, my chest hurts, and my tummy doesn't feel good." She nodded after every description, really focusing in on Jack's face.

"First, we need to check your temperature, daddy." They handed Jack a plastic thermometer and he pretended to hold it under his tongue. "It says his temperature is 1000 degrees." Aaliyah scribbled in her notebook, her brow knitted together in concentration as she tried to draw her zeroes. "1000 degrees? Let me see that." Jack playfully stole it back, squinting his eyes at the drawn on numbers. Brooklyn leaned over to whisper. "Don't worry, daddy, its just pretend."

"Thank goodness, I was worried for a second." Jack smiled, wiping at his brow which made both girls giggle. He sat still as they poked and prodded him with various instruments, taking turns writing things down. After they were finished, the girls started whispering to each other, passing glances at Jack which made him chuckle. "Well doctors, is it serious?"

"Daddy, you need a shot." Brooklyn's face was dead serious, as if she actually felt bad, and Jack tried his best to match her, even though he wanted to bust out laughing. "Are you sure?"

"Yep!", Aaliyah chimed in. "So you can get better fast." Jack nodded, allowing Brooklyn to poke him with a plastic syringe and place a colorful bandaid over the spot. "Thank you doctors. I feel so much better already." Both girls were beaming, their smiles wide at Jack's praise. "You're welcome!" Aaliyah responded, giving Jack a kiss on the nose.

"You know what always makes me feel better, daddy?" Brooklyn laid down next to Jack, cuddling up against his arm. Jack knew exactly what the answer was going to be. "Let me guess. Ice cream?" She nodded with a giggle. "Mama always gives it to me when my throat hurts."

You overheard Brooklyn's suggestion when you came back upstairs to check in on everyone. "I think we can do ice cream, after lunch though." You placed a bowl of chicken soup you had made on the nightstand next to Jack. "Go wash your hands so we can eat." The girls ran out of the room, leaving you and Jack alone. You sat on the edge of the bed next to him."So, did the doctors help you get better?"

"Yeah, shot and all." Jack showed off his bandaid. He wrapped his hands around your waist. "If you're fast, you can still give me a full workup." He tried to pull you down on the bed, but you stood up quickly, just out of his reach. "Dammit", he cursed under his breath, cracking a smile.

"Trust me when I say, you're gonna want to be at full strength when I get to you, baby." You winked at him as you walked out to go eat lunch with the girls.

#jack harlow #jackman thomas harlow #jackharlow #jackman harlow #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow fanfic

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joelswritingmistress · 6 months

Text

Last Halloween: Chapter 25

Summary: After a tragedy involving Joel happened on Halloween one year prior, the town now shuns him while ignoring the details of the now closed case. You are seemingly the only one to offer empathy to a man the town is making out to be a monster.

Warning: Rated M (s m u t/fluff)

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

"What if we were together at this time next year?" You asked Joel, toying with his hair as you laid naked beside him beneath a collection of blankets on an oversized lounge chair.

"I'm counting on it." He slipped a piece of candy corn into your mouth and you smiled, purposely attempting to hold the tip of his finger between your lips for a second or two. "Hoping at least."

"I mean.. would you do it then?" You asked.

"Do what?"

"Run away," you asked. "Start over. With me."

Joel smirked and brought your knuckles to his lips. "I would certainly consider it." He winked and you melted further into the puddle you had become. "Would you?"

You slowly nodded and a smile spread across your face. "They need nurses everywhere. I'll be done with my classes."

"I'm sure I could find work," Joel added.

You were indulging so much in that fantasy that you didn't want to leave that false reality - at least for the time being. A happy ending, you and Joel, this town in your rearview mirror and all the horror left in the past. It was truly dreamy.

Joel leaned toward you and you met him halfway to share a series of kisses. Your fingers curled around his bearded jawline as he moved on to your neck.

The feel of his facial hair against the sensitive skin of your neck left you sighing in his ear. You snaked an arm around his bare shoulders to pull him in closer. Your body naturally slunk down to a supine position on the oversized chair and you ran a hand the length of Joel's back as he nipped along your collar bone.

Your chest heaved up and down with a deep breath you couldn't suppress as your desire climbed again.

And then Joel was sliding lower down your stomach, the blankets still clinging to his body while exposing yours as he took them with him until he kneeled by the end of the footrest. His hands clamped down on your thighs and he kissed down from your lower stomach to the inner crease of your leg.

You arched your hips in anticipation and let out a moan. Your stomach tightened and you bit down on your bottom lip as he moved his face between your legs, positioning in shoulders beneath your thighs.

"Joel." You whined his name from the immediate pleasure. You didn't know whether you wanted to push him back because you couldn't handle the intensity or secure him there permanently.

Joel's arms tightened around your legs and he did things with his tongue that left your entire lower half trembling.

His hair was perfect for grabbing and you simply couldn't help it. You ran your fingertips through his wavy locks and gripped his hair when he indulged in you more thoroughly.

"God.." you gasped the word and as you moved your hips, Joel secured you firmly in place beneath his grasp. His tongue hit places that left you grasping the fabric on the chair and writhing from the pleasure.

You could have came rather easily from Joel going down on you but you wanted all of him.

"Come here," you choked out the words, "Joel."

When he stopped you almost wished you hadn't asked him to. And then his mouth crashed fiercely against yours again and he was inside of you a second later.

Your spread knees raised high up against the outsides of his hips as your hand still tangled his hair. The other squeezed the area where his lower back met the top of his buttocks, welcoming him into you where he belonged.

Joel alternated between kissing you and breathing heavy as he moved on top of you. He moaned each time you did as you fed off of each other's energy.

You knew you would never get sick of this. You could have laid there all night underneath him, letting him kiss you, touch you, whisper against your ear..

When the two of you finally laid still in the darkness you cradled Joel by your chest as he laid with his eyes closed. Your fingers gently stroked through the waves of his hair as you eyed the white, swirling patterns on the ceiling.

Now that you were laying in complete quiet, you could hear the faint creaks of the other tenants walking around upstairs.

"I wonder if they could hear us," you wondered aloud, though for whatever reason you weren't embarrassed.

"Who?" Joel asked, not opening his eyes.

"The people upstairs," you said quietly. "They probably think we're a couple of sex crazed maniacs."

You felt Joel smile against you and he finally lifted his head to look up at you. "They wouldn't be wrong."

A slow smile crept across your face and you accepted another kiss from him as he moved back up to meet your eye level.

Joel locked his fingers with yours by your head. "Not bad for an old man."

"The best I've ever had."

"It doesn't bother you?"

"What?" You asked.

"My, uh.. my age?"

You smiled wider and pecked his lips chastely. "Does it look like it bothers me?"

"No." Joel smirked and you sighed against his lips. "I really do love you."

"I love you, too."

You pulled him into a hug on top of you and closed your eyes when he kissed just below your earlobe and down your neck. Joel then laid his head beside you and you hugged him again.

"Thank you," he said quietly.

You rubbed his back. "I plan to make up for all you've been through this year."

"You already have."

There were more creaks from above you and Joel let his eyes flicker open and glanced upward. He paused for a second before saying, "Yeah, they definitely heard us."

You laughed out loud and Joel joined in a second later. It gave you a second to quickly reposition yourself on top of him.

He still smiled wide as you looked down as you hovered above him.

"What do you say we Door Dash something?" You glanced over your shoulder toward the dying fireplace. "And throw a few more logs on the fire."

"Okay." He allowed you to lock his hands above his head as you leaned town to kiss him again. In a tease you pushed your bare hips against his and he laughed, painfully so.

Joel groaned. "My recovery isn't that fast." He smiled when you laughed again.

"I'm teasing." You pecked his lips another time. "Where's the firewood?"

"I'll get it."

Joel looked like he would be perfectly content not moving for days from the way he laid in the oversized chair beneath the collection of blankets. His lazy posture and satisfied facial expression made you shake your head and insist.

"Tell me. The front porch?"

Joel slowly nodded with his eyes closed again. When you pushed back off of him to retrieve your clothes he picked his head up, watching you dress. You tossed the fleecy, throw blankets back over him.

Looking at Joel laying there made you lean down and kiss him once more, making it last. "Save my place for me?"

"Mmm," he moaned against your lips. "Always."

"I'll be right back."

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