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edgeray · 2 months

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Unknown anon again. I'll figure an emote soon. I guess for know I'll just say uh... ??? anon.

So in the latest dragon Arlecchino fic, reader took a nasty wound yes? And well, medical supplies are hard to come by. So reader gets an infection in the wound and Arlecchino has to find a way to take care of them?

Dragon Hunter Mother Part 3

(Arlecchino x Fem! Reader)

A/N - Part 1 | Part 2 Guys. It is what you have been waiting for, the long awaited part 3 of dragon! arle. Hope this doesn't disappoint! Okay, um, wow, hi ??? anon, 🏹 anon, and ©️ anon. Guys, why are 5 of the asks in my inbox dragon-related. 5 separate ppl wanted more dragons. 💀💀 are you guys starved of dragon content? is this what this is? Is this a cry for dragon content? You can tell how late this request is and I really apologize for that. 😭. What's that? More worldbuilding? Unfathomable. Hehe. Tell me what parts of worldbuilding you guys want me to specify / go into into the next part, because there definitely is going to be a part 4 at least. Content warnings / info - follows part 2's events immediately, arle's pov for the entire time, mentions of injury, sickness, may be medically inaccurate, 3.2k words

You promptly pass out after Arlecchino came to rescue you, the two of you not even registering the intimate gesture that Arlecchino had done in the heat of the moment.

As soon as you lose consciousness, clinging onto her form, she lays you down, checking for your injuries. Miraculously, you haven't received many injuries: just a shallow cut on your side and a deeper laceration across the length of your forearm. She tears one of your sleeves from your shirt as well as rips the bottom half of your top off to access your wounds. You’re bleeding steadily, and Arlecchino knows that stopping the bleeding is a priority.

Stripping the apparels of one of the deceased dragon hunters, she ties around the cloth around the wound on your forearm, the one bleeding more heavily, applying pressure to it. Her clawed hands tremble slightly, careful to not nick your skin as she continues her ministrations. The cloth is darkened by the red that seeps into it, and she growls, before searching for another piece of cloth, using that to secure the bleeding. Once she deems that your bleeding is no longer a pressing issue, she carefully lifts you in her arms, traversing by foot to her cave.

Although there is no difficulty in carrying your weight–her draconic strength still remains in her human form–the journey by foot takes several hours and she has to rely on memory for partway of the trip. It's no help she can not run or leap, not if she wants to risk jolting you awake and disturbing your wounds. Eventually, her children finds her. She instructs Lyney to burn the corpses so that there would be no traces, while Lynette is to search and retrieve your belongings. Freminet leads Arlecchino back to the cave by flying overhead.

Once Arlecchino finally returns, she immediately places you in the nest, bundling the wool mat around your body. Around the second week, you ventured into town, gathering the fleece of animals and placing it along the bed of branches and stones to ‘insulate’ it. While Arlecchino is not aware of what that means, she notices that it made the nest considerably warmer to lay in.

Lyney and Lynette are already in the cave when you and Arlecchino have arrived. Once she places you down, the two creep up beside you, croaking and cooing in concern as they observe your sleeping form. Lyney perches on your chest, while the other hatchlings nestle between your body and arms, pressing on each side.

Arlecchino observes the sight, her human heart pumping rapidly. Seeing her children curls around you, it's a sight that she can never imagine. She allowed a human close to her, into her home, around her children. She grew attached to a human despite her best efforts. Had it been just two moon cycles ago, she would have never considered the notion, fathom the ability of allowing such, of enjoying a human's presence.

Not since Crucabena. That despicable woman. It brings her great joy at the memory of burning her alive. She shakes the memories away, focusing back on you. After all, you aren't Crucabena–you aren't like all humans. And perhaps that is exactly why she grew a fondness for you.

How can she not, however, when you’re the first that doesn't tremble at the sight of her claws, or behave cautiously around her? Perhaps you are a fool, no, she is sure of it, you are a fool who didn't know better. But still… how could she not, when you've fed them, cared for them, protected them when you needn't?

Arlecchino sighs, raising your head tenderly so she can comfortably sit while you lay on her leg. Gingerly, her fingers make her way into your hair, caressing the top of your head. She regards you with a soft gaze.

How can she not grow attached to the one her little ones call ‘Mother?’

Ah, she is having foolish thoughts again. She looks away from you, before falling asleep herself.

Arlecchino stirs awake as she feels the sun's rays peak through the cave's entrance. She notices your still unconscious form, strange, as you must have been asleep for half a day, if not more. Then, the closer that she examines your body, she notices you tremble relentlessly while panting heavily. Concern immediately spikes through her body, and she none-too-gently shoves Lyney off of you to relieve the pressure on your chest. Lyney protests the movement and harsh awakening with a grunt before turning to your unwell person, croaking and whining pitifully. This agitates the other two hatchlings, and all four dragons surround you.

Arlecchino leans over you, scrutinizing every muscle twitch in your form. You're ill, that much is clear, but with what, the dragon isn't sure. Illness is practically nonexistent for dragons, unlike other species; there is little that can penetrate a dragon's scales. Even in human form, little harm can come hhr way. Humans, she had learned a century ago, are quite vulnerable and susceptible to nearly anything. And you, you've always seemed so frail and delicate to Arlecchino, even when she knows better compared to human standards. No matter how formidable you were in the face of the other dragon hunters, even you are human.

Freminet coos as he nudged his head against your head, rough scales against your face but still you don't wake. Arlecchino tries herself to stir you, shaking you by the shoulders, but it's unsuccessful. You don’t wake, and your body seems warmer than it usually is–then for what reason does your body tremor like it does now?

Arlecchino's heart pumps rapidly, rapid thoughts running across her head. What if you were to never wake? What if you remained this way until you perished? The vivid image of her crying children croaking for their Mother as you lay cold and still gripped her tightly, fueling her with something she hadn't felt in a long time.

“Wake up, human, wake up,” she demands with a foreign desperation, her brows knitted and her teeth clenched. Lynette nips at your arm, a futile attempt.

“Archons-damn it,” Arlecchino grunts, taking you by the shoulder again before stopping. Her clawed fingers scratch at you lightly, faint red lines across your skin before beads of red manifest from the shallow cuts. The dragon pulls away, her hands turning into fists. How can she help you? She can't, not when she is so ignorant of humans and their bodies. You're not well, and yet she cannot help you.

For a dragon, she has never felt more helpless and weak than she is now. For the first time, she finds herself wishing that she was a human. If she was a human, she would know how to help you. If she was a human, she would know more than how to hurt and destroy. If she were human, then maybe she too would know how to preserve and save life. If she was a human perhaps you wouldn't be like this. If she was human…

She needs another human’s help. The realization comes to her and she stands up immediately. It hurts her more than she would like to admit, resorting to a human's help, but… her pride as a dragon is not worth your life–it never will be.

Arlecchino tells the children to stay in the cave and watch over you, before she takes off in her dragon form, heading towards the nearby town with a bag of coins in her hand in her claws. She perches at the edge before transforming back into a human, wandering the streets with a cloak to hide her other draconic features and eventually finding the town center. There, she shouts and cries out for a doctor, flailing the bag of coins but no one approaches her. Arlecchino can feel her dignity deplete with every bellow, and her hope draining as more time passes.

Doubt begins to creep up her mind, as she ponders what it’d be like to live without you. She's already so accustomed to your presence, to wake up to your warmth everyday, your brilliant smile, your care towards her and her children. What if Arlecchino can never find help? What if you truly die, and once more her children experience another maternal figure leaving them? What will she do then? She is not ready to part with you, not just yet.

Still, despair slowly sinks into her eyes until a figure comes up to her, a small, hooded woman, with long, dark strands of pink-tipped hair, and a white ribbon over her eyes. How the human is able to see is a fleeting thought before she scrutinizes the person, suspicion and reluctance present in her expression.

“You can help my friend?” Arlecchino questions, though she is in no place to deny help.

“Of course,” the woman smiles cryptically. “What are your friend's symptoms?”

“She's breathing heavily, trembling, and feels warmer than she is usually.”

“Has she received any injury or wound recently?”

“Yes.”

“An infection then. That is easy enough to treat. Yes, I can help you. Take me to her,” the woman states, and Arlecchino obliges, as she leads the other woman to the way.

“She is outside of the village, she lives in the middle of the forest.”

“I suspected that. Guide me.”

Arlecchino takes the woman to the edge of the town, now at the edge of the forest when the woman stops her. “Well, aren't you going to start flying?”

The dragon pauses and turns to her, her brows furrowed. Did the human know that she is a dragon? If so, how? Arlecchino made sure to hide all of the signs, hence the cloak. The dragon attempts to hide the shock in her expression.

“What?” Arlecchino gruffs with a bit of edge in her voice.

“You know. Use your wings?” The human suggests, making a hand gesture to emphasize.

“You know I'm a dragon?” Arlecchino growls, raising a clawed hand to threaten her as she narrows her eyes. If she knows, then she is a danger, a threat. She can endanger her little ones if Arlecchino brings her to her home. Should she kill her? No, she can't kill her now, not when Arlecchino needs her, or needs your life more.

“Of course, I do,” she answers merely.

“Then why are you helping me? Do you want to die?”

“Dragons that's come this far are rare. I believe it's only right to help fellow dragons, no?”

“You are not human,” Arlecchino says matter-of-factly.

“No, I am not,” the woman states with a smile. A pink light emanates from her being and blinds Arlecchino, the vibrant outline morphing from that of human-shaped to something ten times larger. Arlecchino steps away, as a large dragon replacing the form of the human, nearly as large as her own dragon form. White scales crisscross her black scales like x's. But most noticeably is that she has four pairs of wings, each one faded from ink to rose color at the ends, the wing bones covered in midnight scales while the flesh of the wings are colored with a similar roseate color to its tips.

“Let me reintroduce myself,” the dragon says, fuchsia eyes glaring back at Arlecchino. “Call me Columbina. It's nice to see another dragon such as yourself. I promise no harm will come to you or your ‘friend.’ It's more beneficial to make allies with one another rather than enemies, don't you think?”

Arlecchino can practically hear the smirk from her tone, but she knows better than to reject the offer. Arlecchino may be among the most powerful of dragons, but a four-paired-wings dragon is out of her capability. Columbina outmatches her by experience as well as magical ability, and she cannot fight, not when she doesn't know how severe your condition is. What Columbina can benefit from her, she would just have to see, but you need to be treated first.

“How can I be sure you can truly help me? You may be my elder, but I will not hesitate to strike against you,” Arlecchino snarls.

“Why don't you just show me to your human companion instead of waving around these useless threats? I swear on the dragon's oath no harm will come to the human or to any of your things.”

The untransformed dragon contemplates on her words before sighing. A dragon's oath is nothing to scoff at; draconic magic binds the swearer to the oath, and if the swearer breaks it, heavy reparations are placed on the dragon. Columbina is serious about not hurting her, though helping her is still in question. Nonetheless, little can be done. Arlecchino reverts back to her dragon form. “Follow me.”

As the two dragons make their way to the cave, Arlecchino cannot help but prod the other with questions.

“How do you know how to treat humans? Why were you in the town posing as a human?”

“A dragon lifestyle can be so dull. We live so animalistically, driven by instincts and basic biology. Why must we degrade ourselves to living as we do when we have the intelligence and consciousness of a human yet none of their weakness? Humans have proven themselves to be interesting. Working as a ‘quack,’ or what the humans tend to call me, has allowed me so many intriguing insights.”

“You're studying humans?”

“Yes, don't you find such an inferior species quite fascinating?”

“They are something,” she mutters absentmindedly. Frankly, she doesn't care about the other dragon's maniacal obsession.

“Their bodies and mind is something I can toy with for years. Humans lie on such a delicate balance of relying on their animalistic features and relying on their intellect and judgment for their survival.”

Arlecchino just nods along. The two finally reach the cave, where the hatchlings greet Arlecchino, clambering over her back and arms.

“Oh, little ones? How adorable,” Columbina coos, but makes no attempt to approach them.

“Don't touch them. The human is farther inside,” Arlecchino growls and Columbina follows inside, converting back into her humanoid form. She strolls up to your sleeping form, crouching, and examining your figure. She places a hand on your forehead.

“My, my, my, what a pretty mate you have here. It is no wonder you were so protective.”

Arlecchino halts, her brain freezing as she comprehends her words. Her eyes go wide at her proclamation, and she nearly stammers out her response.“Mate? A human?”

“No? Though, I suppose I assumed wrong. She doesn't have your mark. Though, it makes no sense why you've yet killed her,” Columbina hums, unwrapping the cloth around your arm to look at your wound. “Hm, just as I thought. It's infected.”

“Is it even possible to mate with a human? We are separate species.”

“Why? Perhaps you are interested in it yourself? Then it makes sense why you are so taken by this human,” the dragon muses, and Arlecchino flushes, shaking her head.

“No, I was just questioning the plausibility of your suggestion,” the dragon quickly retorts. “Do not state such a preposterous thing.”

Columbina smiles and turns to Arlecchino. “Well, I guess you are too young to know. It is possible, in fact our ancestry says so. We all originate from the same bloodline at one point, though that is about more than a millennium ago. To put it simply, Our ancestor mated with a human blessed by the Archons, and that is why we are born with magic in our veins, and have our human forms.”

So it is possible for dragons to mate with humans… still, Arlecchino cannot fathom such a thing. Even in her humanoid form, you still are so small… she shakes her head, ridding of the notion. Mate with you? She has no place of even considering it when there's no intimacy between the two of you anyways.

Columbina pours some type of translucent liquid over the wound before dabbing some type of fabric into it. She manifests a bottle, opening it and applying the contents over her clawed finger, then rubbing it over the wound. Afterwards, she wraps a clean cloth around your forearm.

“Come here,” she gestures to Arlecchino. Arlecchino approaches you, and the other dragon passes her a roll of cotton material. “As you must know, humans are quite fragile. Hence, this human became ill because the material around her was dirty. It's important for humans to be as clean as possible, as it's quite easy for them to attract impurities that can harm them internally. Use this to reapply the wrappings every day. Keep it clean.

“Make sure the human is properly hydrated, with warm liquids if possible. Do not be overly concerned with how much she sleeps. Humans use sleep to recover their strength. Keep her in preferable conditions, and make sure she is properly warmed. Do you understand?”

Arlecchino nods. “She will be fine just like that?”

“Do you not trust your elder?”

“I am still wondering if I should trust you. But, I can do nothing else but trust you. Thank you for your assistance.”

Columbina grins, the same mysterious smile she seems awfully fond of. “Of course. I look forward to meeting you more often. I am glad there are dragons nearby. I'll be off now. I do hope your human stays alive.”

The dragon heads towards the exit, altering into her winged-form before flying off. Arlecchino sighs in relief, her attention towards you. You’ve stopped shivering, it looks like the trio thought to cover you with your jacket. Although you're still warm, your forehead was no longer burning up.

Arlecchino’s attention is steered away from you when Freminet grazes his body against her leg, before squawking, making his hunger known. Right, she completely forgot about feeding them. She tells the twins to look after you as she and Freminet goes to the nearby river, to collect fish.

The dragon, in her human form, uses the fishing net just like you taught her, easily catching enough fish for the four of them, before returning back to the cave. As the two dragons return to the cave, they're met with a surprising, but not unwelcome sight.

“Arlecchino. Freminet,” you greet with a grin, as you're sitting up right in the nest, the twins cuddling up around you as you stroke their heads. Your voice is different, strained and it clearly takes quite a bit of effort from you, but nonetheless, it makes Arlecchino's heart bound.

Freminet all but drops the bag of fish in his mouth and dashes to you, charing into your stomach as pleased grumbles reverberate through his throat. Meanwhile, Arlecchino makes no rush towards you, simply strutting towards you with a faint smile. Hidden behind her eyes is relief.

“You're okay,” is all the paternal dragon says.

You beam brighter. “I will be. I still feel pretty bad, but…” You glance at your bandaged forearm. “I'll be fine because of you.”

You gesture her closer, snaking out your arm from the hatchling's grasp and extending it out to her. Curiously, Arlecchino places her clawed hand. Intertwining your fingers with hers, you guide her hand towards your face before placing your lips on her knuckles.

“Take this as my sincere thanks, Arlecchino.”

Arlecchino does not wrench her hand away, instead, scoffing in reply before looking away. Her tail flails behind her frantically, comparable to that of an excited dog. Her cheeks are tinged with red. “Getting better can be your thanks.”

#arlecchino x reader #arlecchino x you #arlecchino #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact fanfics #genshin impact fics #genshin fanfics #genshin fics #edgeray.???anon #edgeray.🏹anon #edgeray.©️anon #edgeray.writes #edgeray.requests

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fortheloveofkonig · 1 year

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Hello, hope you're having a good day/night

I was wondering if I could request the 141 x Male reader, they know alot of medical like they use their knowledge of the human body against anyone whom threatens them (or people the care about). They aren't a medic are doctor parday but have extensive knowledge of the field that helps the team. Seem cold uncaring and ruthless but if anyone of them is injured its like a total switch of 'mom bear mode' checking them over the gentle hands and worry.

(Kinda of trope of don't mess with the doctor lol)

Summary: TF 141 reacts to Reader who knows a frightening amount of medical knowledge.

Note: I'm going to do this as more of a headcanons type of post ^^ hope this is good enough! ^^ I did 95% of this all in the last 2 hours

Content: Medical speak, Injuries, Slight Torture, Slightly Bad Medical Research, But I Did Research. Roach Talks.

Word Count: 1085

TF 141 x Knowledgeable in Medic Field M! Reader

Ghost

Probably first heard about your knowledge from Soap talking to him about how terrifying it is to see it come into play

Doesn't believe him.

You've always been good at what you do but have never shown any previous knowledge or interest in the medical field so, who can blame him?

There was also no way you could've went to medical school unless you were years above your usual education range

He finally sees it come into play when you two were 'interrogating' someone.

"If you're gonna stab, don't do it right there. Price said he needs to stay alive."

Ghost looks at you, annoyed. "I've stabbed many people and seen many people survive stab wounds of surrounding areas."

"In lower places of the abdomen and with quicker medical care, if you do it there" You point to where he had the knife, pointed at the tied up man's skin. "It could puncture an intestine and we will be fucked. If you want to stab, move the knife below the belly button...about right... right there. Do not remove the knife once it pierces through."

He did as you said, with questions, but still followed your lead.

From then on he watched everything you did, even noticing that you took care of some of the rookies that ended up with minor cuts and damage that wasn't enough to bother the medics with.

Needless to say, he also ended up coming to you for some patch ups, mostly when he wanted to keep his new damage a secret from Price.

He ended up finding it kind of hot during the interrogation thing so he often asked to do things like that with you again.

Soap

Honestly, probably figured out about your medical knowledge after he was being a dumbass with explosives and almost got hurt.

"Go change into some shorts and a tank top." Your voice was in a serious tone as you went to grab a nearby first aid kit.

"Already wanting to see me strip?"

You just glared at him until he actually left and did what was told.

Despite having only a few scratches, you still cleaned them up as best as you could.

You also went on a rant about it too, about how dumb he was

"Do you realize how dumb you are? What if you actually made a big explosion and a piece of shrapnel flew and hit one of the carotid arteries in your neck?

"My What?"

"Do you realize how fast you would've died? Why weren't you wearing any protective gear?"

"I'm pretty bad at forgetting protection."

If looks could kill, he'd be dead.

That was not the last time you had to clean his wounds, he seems to be a magnet for them.

Asks you more about medical stuff, just to get an idea on how much you know.

You know a lot.

Unsure at this point if he hurts himself in new ways just to hear you yell at him for what dumb way he could've gotten himself killed this time.

Gaz

He falls out of helicopters a lot, that's the truth. What's one more time?

This time (and somehow not the last?) he ended up hurting his foot, you were there the whole time when it happened.

When the both of you were both safe in the safety of a van, you got him to put his leg up so you could check it.

"This is stupid" He mutters, "It's nothing more than it has been in the past."

"Shush, let me concentrate" You mutter feeling around his bootless ankle, nodding your head when you hear him hiss at a pointed touch.

"Any pain when you walk on it?"

"Possibly....yes."

"I'm gonna say it's a sprain for now but I think we should take you to the infirmary after we get back to base. Doesn't seem dislocated. Possible fracture though."

It was just a sprain

Was surprised when you spoke fluent...doctor to the doctor.

Honestly felt like a little kid in the doctor's office, watching his parent's converse with the Doctor telling them what was wrong.

Wouldn't have it any other way.

Price

Always knew, almost nothing gets by him unnoticed

Was probably one of the reasons he wanted you on the task force.

He knows how soap and gaz the boys are

Has you teaching rookies how to probably put a tourniquet on.

"What the fuck are you doing? That's not how I taught you."

The rookie you were speaking to just looked down at the dummy that they were working on and the tourniquet, "It looks-"

"Terrible! He's still bleeding out! Retry it."

Definitely has to sit in on these sessions, some rookies have complained to him that you take it too far.

You always just use the excuse that if those were real people and not training dummies, they'd be at fault for letting them die.

He agrees with you.

The rookie looks over at Price.

"Get to it. He told you to retry it. The man is bleeding out."

Mostly just sits in because it's less complaints now that he is showing he agrees with you in front of everyone.

Roach

This fucker needs a friend that has medical knowledge

Much like Soap, it seems like he is a wound magnet

Was probably the first of the 141 that you had to go full protective, medical knowledge out and work on him.

Man's like a tank too, no matter what the day brings to him it seems he's just able to walk it off

You don't let him

"You're limping, sit down."

He just waves it off, "'m good."

"Like hell you are." You walk up to him and grab his wrist, dragging him to a nearby chair and pushing him onto it. "Stay or I'll have Ghost lay on you."

Does not stay.

You cannot get Ghost to lay on him.

You just end up pelting pillows at him until he joins into a pillow fight, and you both end up getting exhausted.

"I'll rest right here."

"Good."

Stubborn but still okay with medical help

Often comes to you with oddly specific questions.

"Hypothetically, if a car blew up in the near vicinity of where I was at, what is the possible health issues that could arise?"

"Well, burn marks obviously, depending on the distance it could be any degree. If it was enough to knock you over, then a possible concussion. Depending if you hit the ground and hard enough, possible broken or fractured bones. Not to even mention the possible pieces of metal and glass flying, and just blast trauma in general. Could cause damage to internal organs with enough force."

"Okay, so...hypothetically, if that happened, I should go to the infirmary?"

"Roach, were you next to a car when it blew up?"

"..."

"Gary???"

You immediately dragged him to the infirmary.

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chaosandmarigolds · 3 months

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sześć 🚑

EMS AU Thingy!!

summary: Simon Riley finds himself utterly and hopelessly in love with the newest medic on base, and during this EMS refresher he attempts to ‘make a move’ unfortunately he has the social skills of a five year old.

for the record you…you were a tough skinned woman, you were able to handle pain and you certainly didn’t get flustered. All the same, this situation…this was something.

“What do you-“ you groan as you get the same question asked for the tenth time ‘are you sure you want it as tight as if it was real?’ And you huff out, “Yes. I’m bleeding, I will die if you don’t get the stupid tourniquet on.”

Johnny, who volunteered to go first stares at you with wide eyes, “Don’t wanna hurt ya lassie.”

“No, I’m already hurt, I’m bleeding out from an artery! Hurt me more if it keeps me alive, what am I gonna do? Scream at you and then die? Rather it hurt a lil’ bit but be alive.” The words were snapped out and you keep your arm outreached from where you sat, you could tell he was feeling a little antsy so with a groan you stand up, walking over to your bag- you had already stripped down to your tank top to make it easy for a tourniquet to be applied and you grab the bottle of fake blood, lord knew how long it had been sitting it that small bag.

“Would you rather me be in character? Screaming and wailing-“ when he shook his head violently you nodded and set the bottle back down, going back to where you were sitting.

once again he faltered, looking between the tourniquet and you, so with a frown you lean forward, “Hurt me.”

if only you could see how Kyle nearly gagged on his water or even how the captain looked up from his phone with a more the mildly intrigued gaze. Especially the dear (odd) lieutenant, who had taken to standing behind the chair for some odd reason.

You quickly realized why, as the tourniquet tightened and the throbbing pain on your arm began to pinch (it’s not the tightness, it’s more of the skin pinch) you tilted your head back, to be met with the masked creature staring down at the…or maybe you? You couldn’t tell. “The worse part is the skin pinch, ya know.” The words were a bit rasped due to the state of your breathing, because good lord Sergeant MacTavish could tighten a tourniquet.

The lieutenants eyebrows raise, or thought they did, “M sorry. Johnny let er go.”

“Check for a pulse,” you quickly correct, looking down at the poor man, stuck in headlights, “Always check for a pulse after applying a tourniquet or a splint.”

you couldn’t feel your hand. So you had no idea if you had a pulse. And so, Kyle went next on your other arm, and he was nice about it, double checking he had somehow managed to get no skin pinch- something you, until that moment, said was impossible with a tourniquet. Then the Captain, who was particularly gentle, out and out refusing to tighten it all the way on your leg. Then came the lieutenant.

“I was shot in my thigh, I’m dying.” You state deadpanned, holding out the tourniquet for him to take. So when he took the small device you leaned back in the chair, extending your leg.

One thing you realized is that the Lieutenant was very…focused, as he was just then, with one hand he had lifted your leg up and slipped the tourniquet over, and then within another moment it was strapped. Which alone even without turning, it was insanely tight, and the leg- well those just flat out hurt, you could feel your pulse in your inner thigh and your heart began to race.

“It’s unrealistic.”

you hum, snapping your gaze to where you had fixated it on the wall, and to the man, the sound you made was…borderline pathetic, more like a shaky groan, “Lie…Riley, what? What-what do you mean, unrealistic?”

The man shrugged and then tightened the tourniquet with a 360 turn of the windlass, and you bit down on your tongue. “You getting hurt I mean.”

“I-i was on the field it hap-happens, ya know?” God, stuttering? The bar was calling your name tonight.

His eyes snap up to yours, and he turns the windlass…again, “Wouldn’t let it happen.”

There was a stiff silence and you then rasp out, “Check my pulse and then let it go…please, Riley.”

(…cringe? Yeah I know, but in my defense tourniquets hurt like a dog and this was literally my entire idea for that whole segment. So…yeah! Comments and feedback make me a better writer and person, toodles!!)

#simon ghost x reader #cod x you #coco's chaos <3 #simon ghost riley #cod fluff #simon riley x reader #simon riley imagine #simon riley fanfic #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you

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jedi-hawkins · 4 months

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Flowers for the Doctor

The Clones all deserve flowers! Or maybe they think you deserve flowers 😉 Either way, love is in bloom this week for the Clone Flowers Fic Event!

Throughout this week, May 20th-25th, certain participants will be posting their own fics of Clones and different flower themes that were selected! The participants as well as the Clones and flowers they will be writing for are listed below and links to each fic will be added as they are posted! 💐 Follow the tag #cloneflowerficevent to see them all as they come!!

Event Masterlist

@arctrooper69 - Tup, Rex, Gregor

@photogirl894 - Hunter, Wrecker, Fives

@nahoney22 - Fox, Tech

@totallyunidentified - 99, Cody

@dragonrider9905 - Hardcase

@l-lend - Wolffe

@moonstrider9904 - Howzer

@eyecandyeoz - Waxer

Make sure to go check out their entries too, we'll be posting throughout the week!

Pairing: Kix x f!reader

Chosen Flower: St. John's Wort

Word count: 3.8k

Rating: PG-13

Warnings/Notes: Medical terminology, pandemic, sickness and death, brief suggestive content, friends to lovers

Beta-read by @anxiouspineapple99

The helmet of your hazmat suit hisses as you release the seal. A deep sigh passes your lips as you step out of your suit and hang it on the rack for decontamination. When you open the door to the decontam stalls, the creak echoes around the tiled room.

'Damn. All this and we can’t even get some WD-40 on the hinges?' You think to yourself before stripping down to your skivvies and stepping under one of the spouts. The doors from the infectious disease ward open again and a friendly face steps in.

“Kix.”

He smiles at you as he strips down to his briefs and steps under a spout. “Long day, Doc?”

You can’t even muster a reply as you close your eyes and hit the red button in front of you. For just a single moment, the rest of the hospital fades away with the roar of the sonic waves washing over you, and then it’s over.

“That good, huh?” Kix notes your response, or lack thereof.

You shake your head, trying to keep it together. “I’ve had better.”

Kix holds the door to the locker room open for you as you step through. “At least you don’t have to wear the clone kit all day.” He says, tossing you a pair of clean blacks from the cabinet. “On the battlefield it’s great, but here I bump around like a pinball. I’m lucky if I can make it through the day without breaking anything.” He jokes, trying to lighten the mood.

The corner of your mouth does twitch a little. “I don’t know.” You respond, “I’ve always thought I looked like a hutt in those hazmat suits, and the gloves are so annoying.”

“Dinner?” Kix simply asks.

“Please.”

He leads the way to the hospital cantina. You met Kix just a couple weeks ago, but the two of you had become fast friends. He was a clone medic, sent to your planet to help in one of the hundreds of makeshift ‘hospitals’ that had popped up in the wake of a pandemic. This particular hospital was housed in an academic campus, shut down because of the spreading illness.

Normally, you were the second in command in the biggest hospital in the planet’s capital, but for the past month your days consisted of random converted buildings, biohazard suits, and patients you felt like you couldn’t do anything for. At the end of the day, you were thankful Kix had been stationed at your hospital.

Though you two were usually preoccupied with your own patients throughout the day, the pair of you could usually be found together on your breaks. It felt like Kix truly saw you and your struggle. Sure, the hospital Medical Director was the top dog, calling the shots, but you were the one in the trenches of the Infectious Disease Ward every day.

This pandemic was an enigma that you just couldn’t figure out. It should have just been the normal yearly wave of Wet Lung, easily managed by some general antibios, but those didn’t work. Then your Medical Director ordered you to move up to more aggressive drugs, so you did. Before you knew it, your patients were on IV drips of the most aggressive antibio cocktail you could think of.

And they still weren’t getting better, in fact, they were getting worse. You’d already lost a number of patients to sepsis, blood poisoning, and the other hospitals across the planet were facing the same issues. As far as you knew, any person that had caught this mysterious strain of Wet Lung were either dead or dying and there was nothing you could do about it.

You nearly bump into Kix when he stops to open the cantina door.

“Coruscant to Doc, are you okay?” He asks, guiding you through the door with a hand on your lower back.

You shake your head, trying to clear it. “Yeah, Kix. Just a long shift, you know?”

He squeezes your shoulder before grabbing a tray and heading to the serving line. Even though the Republic had brought the war to your Planet a few months ago, you had to admit their support was needed for this pandemic. And nobody knows how to feed the masses quite like the GAR.

Kix immediately starts eating when you two sit down, he told you about one of his brothers, Fives: 'If you didn’t eat quickly around him, he’d swipe the rest of your rations.'

You just can’t bring yourself to eat, instead you just chase a few peas around your tray. Of course, Kix notices.

“Jahaal'got.” He says, using your nickname to grab your attention. “Come on. Talk. It wasn’t just a long day.”

You avoid his eyes, the words getting stuck in your throat. You’ve lost patients before, multiple in one day even, so why was today crushing you so badly?

Kix sets down his fork and reaches across the table to gently grasp your chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to look at him. “How many did you lose today?”

You take a deep breath, “Twelve, eight more deteriorating. I just… I don’t get it, Kix. What are we missing? The drugs aren’t working, they keep going septic before we can catch it, and those that haven’t progressed to sepsis are dying to the Wet Lung.”

Kix stops your rambling by taking both your hands in his. “You remember what your nickname means, right?”

You should be able to remember, but your mind has been so overworked, it doesn’t come to you. “I, uh… something about medicine?”

“Jahaal’got.” Kix repeats it. “It’s the mando term meaning 'good for health', because that’s what you are. You’re doing everything you can, and that’s all you can do.”

You nod, closing your eyes and rolling your head to try to release the tension in your shoulders.

“You’re off tonight, right?” Kix asks.

“No,” you shake your head. “I picked up the night shift, I have to be here.”

Kix scoffs at you. “Are you serious? What, you’re just going to sleep on the hospital floor forever?”

“Not forever.” You protest. “Just until this blows over.”

“This pandemic or the war?”

You meet his eyes, and a knowing look passes between you. After meeting him, you had discussed sending in an application to become a civilian medic for the GAR.

“Well, we have an hour before the night shift starts.” Kix says, standing up and taking your tray. “Why don’t we go for a walk and then try again at this ‘food’ thing before going back to work?”

Your brow furrows at his remark, “But you-”

“Will also be working the night shift, so it seems.” He cuts you off. He shifts both trays into one hand and holds his other out to help you out of your seat.

Kix leads the way, dropping the trays in the wash basin on the way out of the cantina. Outside, the sun is beginning to set, painting the sky with shades of orange, pinks and purples.

The two of you walk through the academic campus, chatting about nothing in particular. Kix asks you a few questions here and there about the buildings you all pass. Though it’s been a few years, you tell him what you remember about studying here.

“It’s a shame all the students had to be sent home.” You remark as you step into the university greenhouses.

Kix nods his agreement. “What is this place?” He asks, looking around.

“The campus greenhouses, they're shared by a few departments.” You explain. “Biology, horticulture, environmental studies, and engineering to name a few.”

“I’m surprised everything is still alive, don’t plants take some maintenance?”

“Well, the greenhouse forms a pretty self-sustaining environment. I remember the medical students coming in here a couple times.”

Kix tilts his head at you. “What would medical students study in here?”

“Well,” you shrug, “There are quite a few medicinal plants native to this planet. Though they aren’t quite as effective as modern medicine, they can still be used for daily management or as an additional treatment.”

The two of you weave through the greenhouse aisles for a few more minutes before you notice Kix has lagged behind. When you turn around to find him, you notice he’s hiding something behind his back.

Your eyes narrow. “What do you have there, Kix? It’s not a bug, is it? That was only funny the first time.”

He chuckles, “Haha, no. I promise it’s not. Here, one last thing to brighten your day.”

You freeze when you notice what he has in his hand.

Kix notices your expression at the small yellow flowers he’s holding out to you. “What, are they poisonous or something?” He asks hesitantly.

“No,” you shake your head smiling as you take them from him. “It’s just funny, those are St. John’s Worts.”

“Weird name.”

“It’s from local mythology.” You explain. “The flowers tend to bloom on the summer solstice, which is dedicated to their namesake.”

Kix looks from you to the flowers and gently picks a few more sprigs from the nearby planter, tucking them behind your ear. “They’re pretty, like something else I’m looking at.”

His words make you smile, but you playfully swat at his arm. “Oh stop it. I know I look like hell.”

“You look better than anyone else would after nearly a month of non-stop work in an infectious disease ward.” He responds.

“Thanks Kix.” You say, hoping that your sincerity projects. Before you know it, you’re throwing your arms around his neck.

Kix falters, but only for a second. You feel his arms wrap around you, strong and steady, just like him. Just like he has been for you the past few weeks. Maybe it was his clone conditioning, or maybe it was just him, but he seemed so unshakeable and he always knew what to say.

He doesn’t relax until you do, but his hands remain on your hips, his eyes darting across your face, trying to read your thoughts. One of your hands rests on his chest, the other still on his shoulder. You won’t deny how drawn you are to him. Though you hoped for the end of this mystery illness plaguing your planet, it stung that it’s end meant saying goodbye to Kix.

Kix is shifting. ‘He’s leaning in, why is he leaning in?’

You move as well, but the moment is shattered when your foreheads bump into each other.

Kix lets go of you completely and takes a step back, color spreading across his cheeks.

“I uhhh…” He tries to find the words, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Uh, it’s fine.” You stammer. “You’re fi- we’re fine.” A giggle slips past your lips at the awkwardness.

Kix breaks into some nervous laughter as well before readjusting some of the yellow flowers in your hair. “Tell me about them.”

You smile at him. “Well, they’re perennials, meaning they come back every year, they don’t need to be replanted. Although the flowers are yellow, they’ll stain your fingers red when you crush them. They’ve been shown to have some antidepressant properties as well as anti-inflammatory benefits, but you need to be careful when combining them with modern drugs.”

You notice Kix’s soft expression as he listens to you.

“It’s been shown that St. John’s Wort has antibio and antiviral properties as we-'' Your heart stops. “Kix.”

“What?”

“Kix, that’s it,” you repeat. “That’s why we keep losing them. We’ve been treating this Wet Lung with antibios, but those aren’t working because it’s not bacterial.”

Kix’s mouth drops open and he says the words at the same time as you. “It’s viral.”

You can see the thoughts tumbling in his head. “And because we advanced to use the system-wide drugs, the patient’s are too weak to fight the virus, triggering the sepsis.” He stammers out. “But, wait, that can’t be right. How can it be viral? There’s never been a case of viral Wet lung reported on this planet.”

Your feet move automatically as you start pacing. “‘There’s always a patient zero. Normal trade is scanned and sanitized.” You stop. “The troopers.”

Kix’s brow furrows. “No, we're vaccinated.”

“Yes, but vaccines aren’t a foolproof plan, with a mutated strain it might present as a mild cold, or not even show symptoms, especially since you all are engineered to have a more robust immune system.” You say, your brain moving a klick a minute. “Where were you all stationed before being deployed here?”

“Most of the 501st was on shore leave on Coruscant.” Kix replies, shaking his head. “The Carnivore and Execute Battalions… They were on Rhodia and transferred directly here for the occupation.”

His eyes widen and he grabs your wrist without another word.

“Kix? Kix!” You shout as he drags you through the campus back towards the hospital. “Why is it so important that you were on Rhodia?”

“Rhodia is one of the native planets for viral strains of Wet Lung.” He pants. “The Rhodians are largely immune, but some mutated strains survive. You were right, we had a couple troopers reporting colds when they transferred.”

The doors to the Infectious Disease Ward bang open and Kix finally lets go of your wrist, giving you a moment to breathe.

“Like you said, the troopers, we’re engineered to have stronger immune systems and we’re vaccinated.” He continues. “The population here…”

“We never have.” You finish his sentence. “We don’t have any kind of immunity. Combined with your theory that it’s a mutated strain and the antibios we’ve given them, it’s no wonder-”

“WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?”

The two of you turn and see the Medical Director storming down the nearby hallway.

Kix steps partially in front of you and stands at attention. “I’m sorry sir, but we-”

“I don’t care what you two were doing!” The Director booms. “You bursting in here is no excuse.”

You slowly step out from behind Kix. “Please, sir. We think we’ve figured out this pandemic.”

“I don’t know who you think you are, but I’m in charge here.” The Director says, his eyes narrowing.

Instead of bowing away as usual, you stand your ground. “I am just as qualified as you, if not more. I'm the one that's been running this ward while you sit in your office. I graduated from this very campus, top of my class and I’m the second in command at the Capital Hospital. This disease we’re dealing with, it has to be viral.”

Your Medical Director looks you up and down, pausing at the yellow flowers in your hair. “There has never been a case of viral Wet Lung reported on this planet. The antibios always work. We just need to find the right combination of meds.”

“Sir, you need to listen.” You insist. “I know we’ve always treated Wet Lung with antibios, but look,” You wave your arm at the ward behind him. “Every single patient that’s come in is either still sick or has progressed to sepsis. The other hospitals are reporting the same.”

Kix puts a comforting hand on your shoulder. “She’s right, sir. Strains of viral Wet Lung are common in other systems. We had a couple battalions transfer here from one of those systems, Rhodia. It’s likely some of our troopers were carriers for a mutated variant and brought it here.”

You pick up where Kix left off. “Even though our population doesn’t have any innate immunity, a fair amount of people probably could have ridden out the virus if we hadn’t given them those antibios.” You bite your lip before continuing. “Those drugs are effective, but in a patient with no bacterial infection, all it would do is compromise their system. They can’t fight the virus, and they progress to sepsis. Only we’re not catching it before it kills them because the Wet Lung is masking the sepsis symptoms.”

You try to stop the words from spilling over your lips but in a last desperate plea for your officer to understand, it slips out.

"We’re killing them."

Kix’s hand squeezes firmly on your shoulder as you let out a choked sob. Your medical officer looks at you curiously, you’ve always been so level headed and sure footed.

The Director crosses his arms. "So you’re telling me to take them off the drugs and do nothing. You do know that’s how we treat viruses, right?"

You lock eyes with him. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. We need to give them supportive treatment; fluids, steroids, pain medication. We can try some antivirals to weaken the Wet Lung strain, but the patients will have to fight it off on their own. All we can do is give them the best chance possible.”

Your director looks you up and down before letting out a little ‘hm.’ He glances behind him to the infectious disease ward and back to you. “I will not take responsibility when this goes wrong. Looks like we’re taking your direction now, Doctor.”

Under your instruction, all of the patients in the ward are removed off the antibio cocktail. Much to your Medical Director's annoyance, the death rate begins to improve. You sent word to the other hospitals caring for pandemic patients and they saw similar results. It’s a slow process, and Kix stays by your side every step of the way. The day you discharged your first survivor, you cried. You both did, actually.

It takes a few more weeks, some patients are touch and go. There were still a few deaths, and Kix held you as you cried for them. Then came the day that you got the news. Your patient numbers had reduced so much your little makeshift hospital was going to be closed, and you were being sent back to the Capital Hospital with a new position, no less. Your remaining patients would be transferred along with you and the University was going to be reopened.

And yet, you weren’t quite happy. Sure you’d basically saved your planet’s population from facing extinction, but you couldn’t revel in it knowing that a certain someone was going to be shipped out.

“The campaign here is over.” Kix had explained. “And with the pandemic contained, there’s no reason for the medics to stay behind.”

The 501st was being sent to Ryloth. You knew there was a crisis brewing there, and you were proud that you knew some of the brave men going to help there, but it still stung. It stung the same as your eyes did as you stand on the landing platform, waiting for someone to come say goodbye.

“There you are.” He says, walking up behind you.

You sniff slightly, trying to keep tears from pricking at your eyes. “Here I am.”

You hear a bit of laughter and you notice a group of clone troopers in blue armor across the landing platform that seem very interested in the two of you.

“Don’t pay attention to them.” Kix says, moving in front of you to block them from view. “Brothers…” He mumbles.

“I get it.” You say, searching his face, what for you’re not quite sure.

Kix reaches for a pouch on his belt. “I- I have something for you.” He says, sheepishly pressing a box into your hands.

Looking down you realize it’s a jewelry box. Gently you open the lid and gasp at the sight of what lays inside. Strung on a delicate chain is a single golden pendant of a flower. The same flower that Kix had tucked into your hair all those weeks ago. The same flower that led to the salvation of your planet.

“Kix… I don’t know what to say.” You stammer.

“Don’t say anything,” he says sweetly. “Just turn around for me.”

He takes the necklace from the box and gently brushes your hair out of the way before clasping the chain around your neck. Turning back around you can only shake your head and smile at him.

“I have something for you too.” You say.

Kix looks at you a little puzzled, he hadn’t seen you holding anything.

“They’re naming the new wing of the hospital after you.” You explain. “It’ll be like you’re always here. No one will forget what you did for us, for me.”

Kix gingerly cups your cheek with one hand. “It was an honor and a privilege.”

He’s leaning in again.

This time your lips connect and the landing platform melts away. There’s nothing but him. Him and you.

Of course your heart has to ruin it as it sinks with the returning thought that he’s literally about to leave and never come back. You break the kiss, but he keeps your foreheads pressed together.

“What is it?” He breathes.

You can’t help but scoff. “You’re leaving and we’re kissing. I doubt the GAR will give you much time for visits.”

“Hey,” Kix says gently holding your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “It’s like you said, I’ll always be here, jahaal'got. I will admit I should’ve kissed you sooner.”

“Hey lovebird! It’s time to go!” One of his brothers shouts.

That manages to get a laugh out of the two of you.

“I think you have to go.” You mutter.

Kix lets you go and takes a step back. “There’s one more thing, but it’s waiting in your office.”

He turns to leave, but you reach out and grab his bracer. “Kix. Thank you. For everything.”

With a smile, he leans in to peck you on the cheek before turning and jogging over to the shuttle where his brothers are waiting.

A grin spreads across your face when you see one with shoulder pauldrons wrap his arm around Kix’s neck to give him a noogie, while another with a top knot of hair claps him on the back.

The sun is setting by the time you get back to your office. The door slides open with a gentle woosh. It’s a nice space, though somewhat empty as you have yet to move most of your stuff over from your old office. On your desk is a vase of small yellow flowers. You find yourself shaking your head again as you walk closer.

Kix… when will he stop absolutely melting your heart?

When you didn't think he could surprise you any more, you realize the flowers in the vase are ceramic. Tucked in between some of the delicate blooms is a notecard. You instantly recognize Kix’s swooping handwriting.

‘I think I need to make an appointment with the Doc, I seem to have been bitten by the love bug. (augh, that was awful, Jesse told me it would be good) I hope you like these, you deserve real ones, but had a local artist make them for you since I won’t be around to make sure real ones never wilt. I’ll see you soon, jahaal'got, on my next shore leave.’

Also Happy Birthday @arctrooper69! (today, May 20th)

#cloneflowerficevent #clone trooper kix #clone medic kix #star wars tcw #tcw #the clone wars #star wars the clone wars #clone wars #sw tcw #tcw kix #kix #501st #501st legion #kix x reader #st. john's wort

168 notes · View notes

intheshadowsbehindyou · 5 months

Note

Mercs x gn reader who’s blind? They’re not a fighter or something but they help around keeping the base in check or something, they have really good hearing.

Can tell the guys apart from their footsteps, even catching Spy off guard when they noticed him sneaking about.

One thing they want to familiarize with the Mercs are their face shapes. They may not see them with their eyes but they picture them to match their voices. GN Reader adores being around these noisy men.

TF2 Mercs with a blind reader (Most notably Spy..)

Warning: Brainless imbeciles

EDIT: I MISREAD THIS ASK IM SORRY THE BLIND READER IS A MERC AAAAAAA

Scout:

-He is wracked at first with the misinformation surrounding blindness. At first, he thinks your world is completely dark. Night-time type of darkness and you have no ways of seeing his shape whatsoever. Which might be half true for some of you, but imagine his awe when you look directly at him after being spoken to. You could hear this idiot nagging from a mile away.

- ��Wait, so do you know i’m white?” “I’m blind, Scout. Not stupid.”

- He’s clearly been unsocialized to those with vision impairment. It shows in his borderline stupid behavior. Waves his bat in front of your face and then winces when you angrily grab it and yank it away from him. Thats when he discovers that blind people typically don’t enjoy that. Gee, you learn something new everyday!

- Runs really fast by you on the battlefield and your face follows the exact direction from where he came from to where he was going. He saw this for a split second and needless to say, he envies your heightened hearing. You had a mildly interested expression the entire time. As if trying to discern if that was an enemy scout or not. Hmm, no. It’s definitely your scout. Nobody else uses that pretentious ass expensive cologne from tuefort’s strip mall. You wanted to gag.

- You could hear him easier than any other merc. His footsteps were simply too evident and easy to identify due to the rhythmic fast-pace. Like an annoying fly buzzing past your ear. (In all honesty, you’re not too far off.) Scout gave himself away way too easily and it concerned you a bit.

——————————————————————-

Soldier:

- “LOOK ME IN THE EYES WHEN I’M SPEAKING TO YOU, ROOKIE!” Soldier says confidently. You glare and say “Well I’d do that if I could see where your fucking eyes are.” aaaaand cue soldier’s immediate realization and instant guilt. These men seriously just speak out of their ass impulsively like babies.

- Bumps into you on accident in the hallway a few times and you certainly don’t need vision to know he opens his mouth in protest before immediately closing it and apologizing profusely for not being mindful enough toward your position. In fact this is beginning to happen a lot more than the other mercs for some reason.. The other ones EASILY move out of your way or make space politely. Yes, even Spy and Medic.

- You approach him one day; and you ask him if he might consider he has vision problems as well. Soldier quietly ponders the thought before audibly shrugging. You shake your head and ask him if he has any blurry vision, blind spots and whatnot. He mentions the top half of his eyes are pretty much dark. You blink for a second, then reach out to touch his head. Feeling something hard and metal.. You pull it off his head and he’s like “HOLY MOLY MARY MOTHER OF ROCKET JUMPING CHRIST! YOU FIXED MY BLINDNESS, PRIVATE! YOU MUST BE A DESCENDANT OF THE GOOD LORD JESUS!” Yes, it was his oversized helmet.

- You rub the bridge of your nose for a moment, utterly fucking tired and it’s not even ten yet.

——————————————————————

Demoman:

- SAME HAT! Sort of. Demoman is missing an eye, and his blind spot is annoying. You’ve both sort of unintentionally bonded over your poor eyes and after memorizing where his blind spot was, you make sure to walk up behind him in that exact area to startle him. Which usually results in both of you howling in laughter.

- You nervously ask demoman to be your eyes on the battlefield one day while anxiety is quite intense. Demoman shakes his head in irritation. “Ye do know I have horrible depth perception, everybody and der mother is movin at mach 10!?” and you respond “Great! We’re fucked.” You were indeed not fucked. Both of you managed to tough it out by ears alone. You make a great team and demoman is blessed to have you. You protect each other expertly.

- If you happen to have a white cane by any chance, prepare to do childish pretend sword battles with him during dinner time. Don’t worry, he’s using a broom. God knows that eyelander would actually try to kill you and everyone else in the room. Miss pauling is very displeased by your guys’ table manners.

————————————————————————

Engineer:

- You inspire him a bit. He was always a bit secretly doubtful of his own abilities after losing his hand in battle. It gave him a nagging insecurity that he’d fuck up in some way, or was no longer qualified due to his disability. You completely destroyed that insecure side of him. The way you effortlessly kill and complete your missions has made him feel better.

- You’re in his workshop one night, and you’ve memorized pretty much the entire layout of the room as this point. Minus maybe a few annoying bolts on the ground here and there that you dance over. You approach him and put your hands on his shoulder. Which he responds to by rubbing your left hand. “So uh, are you making some weird contraption that’ll fix my eyesight or something?” You ask as a joke.

- Engineer sounds offended by such a thing. “You don’t feel broken, do you? I’m not doing that.” He says sternly. “You’re not broken, Y/N. If you want I can make somethin’ partner but there’s nothing wrong with you and I don’t want you to feel that way. You’re no toy to be fixed so that everyone else is somehow comfortable! If ‘em boys are bothering you why I oughta—“

- You sigh in slight exasperation from the random dad rant but in the inside you’re thankful for his words. You hug him tightly in gratitude to shut him up and then feel a cold metal touch your arm. You look down, unable to discern the shape of the object. But it’s undoubtedly robotic-feeling. “Whats that?” You ask. Engineer pauses. Realizing he had taken his glove off. He realizes now’s a good time to remind you he’s on your side. He strokes you with his metal hand to soothe you. “Let’s just say we aren’t too different in some respects, sugar.” And his words is what makes you realize what it is.

- You drag the metal hand to your cheek and feel the cool claws against your skin. The thumb of the machinery rubs your chin.

————————————————————————-

Heavy:

- He figures out you’re blind right away and he genuinely doesn’t give a shit. He finds everybody equally annoying, like I said beforehand. You’ll notice as aforementioned he moves out of your way in the hallway however and aids you around the building whenever you ask him. He seems to care.

- He asks you how big he is from your perspective. You can answer that pretty confidently. The truth of the matter is that he’s the most recognizable due to his large body, rumbling voice, and massive footsteps. He nods and slightly smiles with reassurance. Good. Even those with eyesight problems know he’s dangerous. excellent. Just the way he likes it.

- Heavy fully trusts in your abilities and makes no attempts to help you in battle unless you ask. He’s seen you bash heads in one too many times without much thought and it’s safe to say they made a great call hiring you. Clearly you don’t let being blind affect your work whatsoever. In a weird sort of way, he feels oddly proud of you but won’t ever voice it outloud.

- You save him from a Spy and this causes a distant, disheveled look in his eyes as you run off and he stops whirling his gun. It isn’t often his kindness is rewarded like this. (Also now he’s wondering if he should ask Medic to give him supersonic hearing.)

———————————————————————-

Pyro:

- Pyro doesn’t realize you’re blind at all at first. It’s just not something they think much about when accessing new friends. His mind isn’t on scoping out their inherent “flaws” but rather scoping out how well you treat the others around you. Which is an odd thing for Pyro considering they’re quite content on vandalizing shit, disregarding people’s worldly positions and their feelings on it, and overall being an unforgiving nutcase who’d 100% bite off all the heads of their animal crackers and put them back in the box.

- Once they figure out you’re actually not here to cause damage, they seem to warm up fast. Pun intended. I think the moment they realize something’s wrong is when they silently point out a sniper around the corner with their pointer finger and you don’t even flinch. In their stead, Soldier audibly reminds you. This causes pyro to re-think how you might perceive some stuff.

- They begin to psychoanalyze you more out of habit. You seem to disregard a lot of certain visual stimuli in favor of sound. Without even asking you they figure out after a while that you’re blind and quickly adjust their behavior to better accommodate you. Instead of pointing at danger for example, they grab your hand and make you point at it… Which works, I mean. But he could just speak, y’know? It’s not like you can’t hear them better than anyone else over that gas mask.

- Pyro figures out how to convey signals to you without having to do the hard task of speaking. Two taps on your shoulder meant spy, one tap meant sentry around corner, and so on. Not only did this hide his intentions from the enemy team but helped you team up with them quickly.

————————————————————————

Sniper:

- Ugh.. Sniper is much like Scout in the sense that he has no clue how to respond to a blind person. He quickly assumes you’re inept at first and begins prioritizing your position on the battlefield more than anyone else. Shooting down key targets that get too close to you; or get in a quarrel with you. It’s flattering really but you can hold your own in a fight just fine. This is affecting your performance.

- You admittedly lose your mind and yell at him. But to be honest he had it coming with his stupid assumptions. Sniper doesn’t even complain nor move a muscle as you shout at him and storm off. He immediately feels regretful and tips his hat forward. Once again he’s lost another potential friend to his own behavior. “I was only trying to keep you alive.” He mutters to himself as he turns away. Unbeknownst to him, you heard it.

- Convinced, you sigh and walk back to him and run down the fact that you’re independent, and that you appreciated it but it’s important you complete things by yourself. Then you bitterly apologize for yelling at him. You could have swore you heard a soft “Sorry too…”

- This unexpected softness from a hard rough and tough guy like Sniper is what makes you reconsider him. He’s willing to fess up and apologize for having a bias. He just sucks at it. You forgive him hesitantly and you learn to not regret that later. Because he soon learns that you’re simply equal to all the other mercs and treats you as such.

———————————————————————-

Medic:

- Come on now, really? He already has his hands on your medical history the moment you walk through the door. He doesn’t skip a beat whenever idly scanning for things he should keep note of. Medic never even asks you if you’re blind. He simply acts as though he’s always known. Opening doors for you, directing you if you truly need it. Aggressively shoving the other mercs out of the way to make way for you so he doesn’t need to tend to BOTH your wounds.

- At first you suspected him to go crazy over time and check your eyesight curiously like a wet specimen in a jar. But his indifference is.. Slightly unnerving. You decide to enter his office and hesitantly remind him that you’re blind. Because you genuinely don’t know at this rate.

- “So..?” He asks. Rather rudely at that. You want to exhale loudly in anger so badly. Why was everyone in this fuckin’ place so mean?? Medic takes his glasses off and readjusts the position of his desk papers. “Should I act upon this more and enforce more adjustments?”

- “No—“ You say slowly. “I didn’t know you even knew. Normally you’d go crazy with curiosity whenever someone is even mildly different than you in an attempt to understand them.” You tell him. This causes him to sort of put his fist to his lips and snort. Holding back a laugh. “What? You think I haven’t met a blind person before? You’re forgetting i’m a doctor. Plus that just means we’re safer with you around. I’d rather not be backstabbed a thousand times each round anymore.”

- Agh.. That explains it. That yellow folder on the table with the blurry photo of your image also explains it.

—————————————————————————-

Spy:

- FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

- His poor pride is in pieces on the ground whenever you’re nearby. The other mercs can visibly see his fists clench into a ball and swear they see his eye twitch. Scout especially wonders if you’re going to be the one who finally blows his lid. Why? JUST WHY? Why can you hear him when nobody else can? He’s like a magician the way he disappears into the shadows. So why does it not affect you?

- He’s superior in every way and he knows it. So why is it whenever he’s lightly walking along the hallway to have a smoke break that you turn around and greet him? Truly, nobody else walks as gently and lightly as he does. His footwork to your ears is like a tiptoeing predator in the bushes the way he walks so slowly to achieve stealth. He freezes in place and grits his teeth everytime you do this… Then suppresses his own unholy wrath and stumbles away.

- .. You’re making him needlessly paranoid. He can’t work under these conditions. If you can sense him, then surely eventually the other team will? Congratulations on singlehandedly causing this old man work related silent panic attacks. His hair is falling out more than usual and he’s staring at himself in the mirror, with a dead gone expression. Staring into the void. He’s dissociating now.

- Tries to outsmart your own heightened senses in any way he can. The closest he’s gotten is maybe sneaking into your room while you were asleep to check your drawer and you woke up due to the sound of the drawer opening. After rolling around to face him, his cat-like eyes in the darkness disappeared as fast as they came in. WHOOOOSHHHhh went his cloak. You could even hear him tapping his watch in the process. Really, you didn’t understand how he was such a huge threat to the other team.

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #mod spy #spy x reader #medic x reader #demoman x reader #heavy x reader #tf2 x reader #tf2 x you #sniper x reader

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sublimecatgalaxy · 10 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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batarella · 5 months

Text

Bruce's Bathtime - Batfamily Sitcom

Bruce's mistake was thinking he could have a peaceful night in the bath on his day off when his manor is full of kids who share one brain.

A/N: HELLO EVERYONE I LOVE YOU AND IM SORRY I DISAPPEARED BUT I WANTED TO WRITE SOMETHING SWEET FOR YOU TO ENJOY. THIS IS HEAVILY INSPIRED BY "BATH" BY SAM AND MICKEY ON YOUTUBE.

WORDS: 1.7K

WARNINGS: NONE. IT'S WHOLESOME AND SWEET.

MASTERLIST

——-

Crime rates were always at an all-time low in time for the Superbowl.

Which meant Batman gets a day off. Duke was the only one on patrol that night. Alfred spent half an hour convincing him not to spend the night at the cave.

“Master Bruce, the bath has been drawn and I’ve taken the liberty of using the expensive lavender bath salts so you would not like to waste it.”

“You’re right, Alfred. I’m a billionaire and I find the fifty-dollar lavender salts a waste to not use.”

“Just get in the bath, Master Wayne. Just thirty minutes of quiet shall do you good. I’ve set an alarm.”

Since when did Bruce start working for him?

He did as told anyway. Bruce closed the bathroom door and stripped off his clothes to get in the tub. There were so many callouses in his body, he barely felt just how burning the temperature was.

It was just a minute in there when the first knock woke him from drifting off.

“Bruce?”

What the hell is Dick doing out of Bludhaven? “What?”

“Is the music room haunted?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“I heard something inside.”

“Instruments tend to do that.”

“I did a headcount of everyone in the manor and everyone is accounted for except Duke who you sent out for patrol so I doubt it’s anyone but a ghost,” Dick said.

“Get out.”

“But I’m not even inside the bathroom.”

“Go away.”

“What if it’s not a ghost? What if it’s a spy?”

“The manor has more advanced security systems than the Pentagon, Dick.”

“That’s not a good point of comparison.”

Bruce closed his eyes and let the steam slow his rising blood pleasure.

“Just check the room. Could have been the wind.”

“I’m too scared.”

This man was almost thirty and was still giving Bruce the same amount of aneurysms as when he was eight.

“Ask Alfred to check for you.”

“Okay.”

He heard fading footsteps and let them lull him into sleep. He set his large arms onto the sides of the tub, sinking his mouth under the water.

“Father,” a voice said from out the door followed by three soft knocks by a small hand.

“What, Damian?”

“I need you to sign this letter from the school headmaster.”

“What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything.”

He doubted that.

“It’s for a parent-teacher conference.”

Bruce let the silence answer for him until Damian gave in.

“Someone attacked me in class.”

“Damian-“

“Okay, I threw the first punch but he taunted me first about how I was small for my age but I said that I’m of perfect size for my age and that I’m simply too smart to be crowded into elementary school children when my intellect belongs to that of a senior and then he asked what I was doing here and not in 5th grade and I said what was he doing here and not in 5th grade and he spat at me and now his nose is broken and they want you to cover the medical bills.”

Christ.

“Maybe you don’t have to pay it. You can call them yourself. You’re Bruce Wayne. You can get away with anything.”

“I can, but you’re not Bruce Wayne, so you have to deal with it.”

“Can you just sign this, Father?”

“Fine.”

Damian walked in, fanning the steam off his face and covering his eyes so he wouldn’t have to see his own father naked, then handed him the letter to sign it.

“Make sure your handwriting is the same as when I forged it.”

His eyes could not have rolled further back into his skull.

The boy walked out, just two seconds before the next set of voices made him wish the gunman shot him in the head four decades ago and not just his parents.

“Bruce, could you tell Jason he’s not the only one who died and come back to life and that his robin costume doesn’t deserve to have to top display in the Batcave anymore especially since he’s here?” Tim said.

Jason’s voice was even more obnoxious. “I died first, asshole and no one else would have died if it weren’t for me so clearly, you should thank me. And my rebranding was better. You’re still technically a robin since, you know, it’s the other half of your name, so you don’t deserve to be memorialized.”

“You don’t deserve to be memorialized at all when you’re alive and not a memory. You’re not even the first robin.”

“You’re not the first anything.”

“I’m the first at a lot of things.”

“Replacement.”

“Glorified zombie.”

Bruce grabbed the cucumbers Alfred had laid out on the table next to him just so his eyes wouldn’t burst out in blood at how much he wanted to scream.

“Ask Alfred what to do,” Bruce said.

“Alfred is with Dick in the music room to look for ghosts. We need an answer now.”

“What do you even want me to do?”

“Tim threw my robin costume piled up with all their robin costumes when clearly, it should be in the display case,” Jason said. “And Tim wants to move my motorbike out of the cave.”

“You have so many motorbikes, would it hurt you to move just one?”

“No.”

“Bruce!”

Bruce counted to ten. “No.”

“No to what?”

“Everything.”

“You don’t even know what you’re saying no to.”

“I could not care any less.”

“Can we please come in?”

“No, I’m naked.”

“We’ve seen you naked.”

“Not on purpose.”

Jesus fucking Christ. “Fine. Fine. We’ll get glass cases for both of you and we’ll pretend it’s a shrine as if you’re still dead. Happy?”

“Not from dying but sure,” said Tim.

“What about the motorbikes?”

“Put it outside,” said Bruce.

“Are you sure? What if someone sees?”

“Do whatever. Throw out the T-Rex in the cave for all I care.”

“Also, I need access to the batcomputers,” Jason said.

“For what?”

“Everyone else has access except me.”

“That’s for a reason, Jason.”

“Pretty please.”

“Get out.”

It took another five minutes of the two yapping at the other side of the door before it finally quieted down.

Then his phone started ringing. Duke.

That was when his blood pressure really started to spike.

“Duke? Is everything alright? What’s wrong?” he said to the phone.

“Me?” said Duke. “Oh yeah everything’s great! Not much crime when everyone’s watching the halftime show.”

“Then why’d you call?”

“Can I use the batmobile?”

Fuck a duck. “For what?”

“The streets are empty and you said I could drive it when there isn’t traffic.”

He hung up and threw the phone into the water before Duke could say anything else.

He had five minutes of quiet this time. Then Steph was at the door. “Bruce!”

An aneurysm. One of these days, he might actually have one.

“What now?”

“Can I change rooms?”

“Why?”

“Dick said there’s a ghost in the music room and my room is like five feet away and I don’t think I can sleep there anymore.”

“You slept there last night and everything is fine.”

“Ghosts can be quiet, Bruce, it doesn’t mean they’re not there. And you’ve made a lot of enemies, so I won’t be surprised if anyone’s settled in to haunt you.”

You’d think he wasn’t in a house full of vigilantes who fight the city’s most dangerous criminals.

“I haven’t killed anyone, Stephanie. I keep all my enemies alive.”

“What if it’s not your enemy? They don’t have to hate you to haunt you. Can I please just change rooms?”

“Move wherever you want. I don’t care.”

“Can I move to the bedroom at the west wing?”

“That’s mine,” Bruce said.

“You have a bedroom? I thought you never slept.”

“Fine. Take it. Just get out.”

“Really?” Steph squealed. “The master bedroom. Sweet!”

It took less than five seconds before the next reason for his headache started pounding at the door.

“Bruce! Jason is trying to hack into the batcomputer!”

“I did not!”

“He did!”

“The World’s Greatest Detective is just mad I guessed his password on the second try.”

Bruce sank into the water, drowning their yapping until it had blurred out. He held his breath for seven minutes straight. He could die. That wouldn’t be the worst thing. Just when it was finally quiet, again, Bruce rose up and found Damian sitting on the toilet.

He continued to look unbothered even when he looked at Bruce straight in the eye.

“Do you mind?”

“I’d like to use this toilet.”

“There’s fifteen bathrooms in the manor, Damian.”

“I like this one.”

“I understand I have not spent as much time with you, but this is not what your tutors mean by father-son bonding.”

“Oh no, don’t worry. I don’t mean to bond with you. I just like this toilet.”

“Fine. Please. Take your time.”

He did take his time. Damian sat there for a whole five minutes and pulled out a book.

“I wasn’t being serious. Get out of here.”

“Relax, father. It’s your day off.”

Bruce eyelids fluttered closed and he refused to open them until his son left the bathroom.

The next knock made a blood vessel pop. “Bruce. It’s me Barb. So sorry to bother you but I found another group of conspiracy theorists on the TikTok who made a list of billionaires who have never been seen in the same room as Batman and you’re the front liner of that list. I know you told me to never engage with these things but it’s at fifty million views right now and they’re making edits of you as Batman.”

“Make more bot accounts and pin it on Elon.”

“On it,” said Barbara. “So sorry to have disturbed you!”

He’s going to have a talk with Alfred to block off the whole floor the next time he draws these baths.

“Bruce?” It was Cass. “I hope it’s alright if I take Steph’s room. I took the liberty of putting a speaker in the music room so Dick would tell everyone there was a ghost in the manor and Steph would move out.”

The alarm went off. His thirty minutes were up.

One of these days, Bruce might finally break his no-kill rule, and it won’t be for the Joker.

---

A/N: I MISSED ALL OF YOU ASSHOLES AND I HOPE THIS WON'T BE THE LAST

TAGLIST

@karurururu @trixie-bb @childofposeidonforlife @fantasticwizardnerd @iibonniee @queenoftodd @foenixphire @omgtheywereroommates98 @spooklies @nyja-ls @jason-todd-is-my-husband @pieanq @spookyfrances @tacticaldivine @bathroom-sand @vicomtess @willieoo @consultingkilljoywinchester @elsenthal @willowoo @massiveathletefanauthor @chemicalpapercuts @the-abyss-of-fandoms @pparkeramorr @pricetagofficial @traceymoyashi @seutarose @littleredwing89 @astrids-pandora @nomalu1 @knightfall05x @lovelyartemisa @fourteengemstones @acookiesnmilkuniverse @24-7-multifandomsimp @xemiefx @cherry-glade @ @lilith1717 @yujikuna @dwboutit17 @ouflater @satan-s-ass @indigowcrds @little-prying-pandora @butwhyduh @killersandmonkeys @kierdlt @illzarr @ramdomtails @probsjosh @angel-lover-alice @evalynanne @adazzlingsakura @offendedfishnoises @lupinslibraries @comic-cat83 @jason-todd-is-my-husband @estrela-rogers @jadesublime @tedii-bear00 @andieperrie18 @willieoo @insanebatty @queennightsetz @mkknrd22robinlover @she-sees-fire @quintessences0posts @spideypoolfeelz @batgalsblog @mello-d @https-101iamtheredhood101 @offendedfishnoises

#BATMAN #bruce wayne #batfamily #wayne family #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #duke thomas #barbara gordon #cassandra cain #stephanie brown

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malum-forev · 1 year

Note

Congrats on 1k followers 💓 I am so happy for you!

And can I please request the “stranded” prompt from your bingo game?

Just imagine Bucky and reader not really liking each other and being stranded somewhere after a mission. The tension, the intrigue, the fluff! Ugh I’m excited ❤️‍🔥

Much love, Meg (espinosaurusrexex) ✨

Hiii thank you thank youuu!! ❤️‍🔥 Here's the "stranded" prompt! I hope you like it <33

Your legs felt heavy as you walked deeper into the forest. The “simple” mission Sam sent you on had taken you from morning to afternoon and now, into the night. You found yourself trying to ignore the ache enveloping your body as you dragged your exhausted body through the damp ground. Whoever said nature gives you peace and makes you feel grounded is an idiot.

Stupid Sam, with his stupid mission, and his “You’ll be in and out in an hour, two tops.” You thought.

On paper, it looked easy. You were supposed to go to a warehouse that was used as a training camp during the war somewhere in Vermont. There had been a couple of reports stating weird things were happening, there was talk of more super serum and information taken by Hydra being hidden there. But someone must have been tipped off because when you got there, everything was gone. Well, almost everything. Before you got to the warehouse, whoever was getting rid of the evidence clearly wanted to get rid of you too. Blinding gas tanks were detonated and they’d wired bombs to the landing strip, the quinjet completely destroyed.

You always had a Plan B, of course. A safehouse some miles into the forest that bordered the area near Montreal.

Your shoulders dropped as you saw caught sight of the small cabin. The sigh you let out was the first thing you’d heard in an hour, apart from the sound of two pairs of boots crunching down on the dropping leaves.

Bucky turned to look at you but you kept your gaze forward. You were in absolutely no mood to talk. It was his fault you were here but you knew he would never admit it.

You walked up the old wooden stairs and stopped at the door.

“Are you waiting for the door to magically open?” Bucky crossed his arms over his chest.

Your hand covered your eyes. “You cannot be serious. Sam gave you the key for the safehouse in case we needed it.”

“Yeah, I know.” Bucky shrugged. “And I put it in my backpack.”

“And where’s your backpack?” You asked, annoyed.

Bucky looked over both his shoulders and spun around once. “Does it fucking look like I have my backpack?”

“You lost the only thing you were supposed to keep track of?” You groaned.

“Well I’m sorry, I was trying to not get killed by the fucking bombs!” Bucky rolled his eyes.

You put your hand up, conveying a clear stop talking or I’ll kill you message, and knelt down. You took a couple of paper clips from the inside of your vest and straightened them to try and pick the lock.

“Wouldn’t it be easier and more effective to carry a lockpick set?” Bucky asked.

You stopped working on the lock to take a deep breath. We do not kill innocent people. You repeated in your head. Even if they’re not so innocent and they’re assholes.

You were able to get the door open after a few minutes. You took in your surroundings as you came in and turned on the lights. There was a landline phone at one end of the small cabin and a couple of medical aid kits, a couch on the other side of the four walls and a small table with two chairs next to it, but that was about it. You looked out the window and into the night, there wasn’t anything to be seen. Miles upon miles of trees, a good hour and a half away from any sort of civilization. You were truly stranded.

“This place looks like shit.” Bucky said.

Five words, that’s all it took to ignite the fire that had been lightly burning in your being.

“Really? Because I think this place is incredibly charming.” You said, your words dripped sarcasm. “This was actually my idea of a perfect Friday night! Go on a mission, have you mess everything up by not checking if the place was decked out in bombs and having to walk almost two hours to a safehouse.”

“How is this my fault! You were the one who wanted to land the jet closer to the warehouse.” Bucky’s tone rose, his chest heaved.

“Oh don’t you try and flip this situation around.” You warned. “Because the problem starts and ends with you being selfish! And because of your idiotic need for individualistic recognition and praise, we're stranded!”

Bucky was fully ready to let his wrath out on you but just as he was about to tell you why you were the problem, he saw a stain on your light grey vest. He furrowed his eyebrows at the large dark stain.

“What happened to you?” He asked, getting closer and lightly tracing over the spot.

A painful shriek slipped out of you as you felt the pressure, Bucky stepped back.

You grabbed one of the kits and dropped your body on one of the chairs. With a groan and a wince, you took your vest off and pulled your shirt up, tucking it under the wire of your bra.

You teared the packaging for the antiseptic wipe and tried to clean the area. The large gash on the skin covering your ribs was still leaking blood.

Bucky sat down on the chair next to you and pulled your chair closer to him, taking the wipe from your hands. “C’mon let me do it, I’ve got a better angle.”

You threw your head back and hissed as he pressed the wipe to your wound.

“How’d you even get a cut like this?” Bucky asked, his usual frown softened a worried look taking its place.

You shrugged your shoulders. “What did you say earlier? I was trying to not get killed by the fucking bombs. Couldn’t really concentrate on anything else.”

The corner of Bucky’s mouth turned upwards slightly.

You took sight of the man in front of you. The warm light cast intricate shadows on Bucky’s face. You could see his frown lines but you also took note of the small wrinkle on each side of his lips. Smile lines. You thought of the few times you’d seen him smile. You’d seen him give out his fake smile many times at press conferences or Stark events, but Buck’s true smile- the one you knew was hard to get out of him- you had only seen once or twice in passing. There was that one time when Sam finally broke him down with a cheesy joke, Bucky’s whole face would light up and an ear-to-ear smile would reveal his pearly whites. You had noticed your breath hitching when you saw him, not that you would ever admit it.

A smile of your own threatened to appear as you saw how his tongue poked out of the side of his mouth, concentrated on treating your wound.

“Will you stop looking at me like that?” Bucky said in a soft voice. He took the needle out of the packaging, you needed at least three stitches. “It’s making me lose my focus.”

“Sorry.” You whispered.

“S’okay.” Bucky mumbled.

You felt your mouth open without consulting with your brain. The question on the tip of your tongue. “Tell me a joke.”

You don’t know what came over you but you asked it. Maybe it was the exhaustion or the lack of blood. You saw Bucky’s eyebrows furrow and his jaw tense. His expressive face went through all the emotions.

“A joke?” Maybe he hadn’t heard correctly, you definitely didn’t say that. How could the woman with whom he’d spent more time arguing than actually talking ask him to tell her a joke.

“Tell me a joke.” You repeated, it was too late to back out now.

“What’s a prize old people can win for aging?” Bucky asked, his eyes focused on finishing up your stitches but his brain was elsewhere.

“What?”

“Atrophy.” His celeste eyes looked up at yours and there it was, a smile. You knew you probably looked dumbfounded but there wasn’t any other expression you could make. Now you knew why Bucky didn’t smile as much, that man could start a war if he wanted to just by flashing a quick smile.

You let out a light laugh. “That was a really bad joke.”

“I’m out of practice, I can’t remember the last time someone asked me for a joke.” Bucky bit his bottom lip.

“You should smile more often.” Bucky’s eyes widened at your words.

“I-I should?” He stuttered, quickly finishing the last stitch. Taking a bandage strip and placing it over his work.

“You have a really nice smile.” You said and watched as his cheeks turned red.

With a cough, he stood up from the chair. Rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. “Thanks, it’s- been a long time since someone’s said that.”

“Am I the first person to tell you you have a nice smile in 70 years?” You asked.

“Well- I – when you think about it-“ Bucky’s brain was frying, he had no idea what to do in this situation. He’d begged Sam not to put you two together in a mission for this exact reason. You were extremely irritating to him but at the same time he couldn’t help but want you. Want to be near you. You had the ability to make him angry in a matter of seconds but make his pants feel tight with just a couple of words. The devious smile playing on your lips only made him harder.

“I’m gonna call Sam to see when he can pick us up.” Bucky gulped.

Hi hiiii This is part of my 1k Celebration, if you like this please be sure to look at the Bingo Card and ask for a prompt! Love y'all <33

*Any gifs posted are not my own and I give the artist full credit.

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callsign-dexter · 1 year

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Daddy Don't Go

Summary: During a routine training exercise, Bradley's jet malfunctions. He's in critical condition. How will his 4-year-old duaghter take it?

Pairings: Jake Seresin x Bradley Bradshaw, Jake Seresin x Duaghter!Reader, Bradley Bradshaw x Daughter!Reader

Warnings: angst, inaccurate medical talk, jet crash, ejection, fluff?

Masterlist

Our Little Girl

A/N: Little Y/N is 4 years old

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It was supposed to be a routine training exercise with new Top Gun students. Nobody was supposed to get hurt. Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw-Seresin was not supposed to be in the hospital in a medically induced coma, to let the swelling on his brain go down with a tube down his throat, with his 4-year-old, Y/N Carole Seresin-Bradshaw clinging to him and refusing to leave. How did the Seresin-Bradshaw family wind up here? Well, it started with the pre-flight checks and everything looked fine and checked out but it was something electronical that somehow passed all the mechanical checks.

7 a.m. rolled around on the cloudy Friday morning. Jake was the first one to wake up and start getting ready and while he was in the bathroom having just come out of the shower he heard Bradley get up. They both decided from the beginning to let their daughter sleep until they got fully ready and then got her up and ready for school. Bradley walked into the conjoined bathroom and greeted Jake with a kiss as he brushed his teeth. Neither were a morning person so they didn't talk. Bradley wordlessly stripped his clothing off and got into the shower. 7:30 a.m. rolled around and it was time to get Y/N up since Jake was already done and dressed in his khaki uniform.

Jake silently walked to his daughter’s room and opened the cracked door. She was sound asleep spread in a starfish pattern in the middle of the bed, as Jake swears, just like Bradley. It brought a smile to his face. He walked in and got her clothes ready to go without waking her which wasn't a problem since she was a heavy sleeper, as Bradley swears, just like Jake.

Jake walked over to her bed and bent down to where he was face level with her. He brought a hand up and started to stroke her hair "Sweets, time to get up." He said in a soft tone but she just rolled over to where her face was near his. He chuckled to himself. "Come on. Don't you want to go see your friends at school?" He asked softly. Y/n scrunched her nose up and groaned but she didn't wake up fully but Jake knew he was getting there "Sweets, let's get up. You have to go to school." He said and she cracked her eyes open to look at him and he smiled.

"Papa?" She asked and started to sit up.

"It's me, Sweets. You ready to go brush your teeth?" He asked and even though she didn't want to, she did it anyway. She made grabby hands to be picked up and Jake did. He walked her to her conjoined bathroom and sat her on the counter she was still tired he got her toothbrush put toothpaste on it and turned on the water. Y/N lazily brushed her teeth but she got it done and they were clean. Jake was tackling her curly dirty blonde hair after she was done when Bradley walked in. He saw him through the mirror. "I blame you for her curly hair." He playfully glared at his husband and Bradley just laughed. This caused her to look up and see him through the mirror too.

"Daddy!" She screeched out and brought out that signature Seresin mega watt smile.

"Hi, Honey." He said to her and then turned to Jake "You love our hair." He said and boy was he right. He walked over to them and pushed Jake out of the way so he could handle it, Jake knew how to handle it too but since he got her up this morning he let Bradley do it. Bradley brushed it out and then put it into a half French Braid and half ponytail, where he learned that nobody knows well except his mom.

"You are truly one talented man." Jake said while looking at the finished product. Jake knew how to do hair too from having sisters but French Braiding was his biggest downfall so he left that up to his husband. They both got her dressed together and went into the kitchen to eat something. They were Glas that her preschool was on base and they lived close by so it wasn't like they needed to rush or anything. They loaded up in Jake's truck and headed to base.

When they left the house at 7:45 a.m. when they got to the base preschool it was 7:50 a.m., right on time. Bradley was the one to get her out of the truck when Jake parked and they both walked her into the classroom and said their goodbyes and boy did the moms swoon over two Navy aviators.

"Sweets, we'll be back at the end of the day to get you. Ok?" Jake said bending down to her level.

"Ok, Papa." Y/N replied they could remember when they first dropped her off and when Jake didn't take her that one time. Oh, Bradley was pissed while everyone thought it was funny.

"We love you, Honey." Bradley said and hugged her and she hugged back and then Jake hugged her too.

"Love you." She said back to them and they got up and left the building. They headed to work. They arrived and they both walked into the building ready to start teaching.

Today they were practicing some dog fighting with the new students. Jake, Bradley, Bob, and Natasha were going up with them. Maverick, Goose, Ice, and Slider had opted to stay on the ground and in the control tower to watch. Bradley and Jake both did their pre-flight checks and everything was good to go they said they loved each other as they did every time before going up in the air, and the next thing they knew they were up in the air. Jake took over speaking.

"Good afternoon pilots. Today we will be practicing some dogfighting." Jake said through the comms and then Bradley spoke up.

"The name of the game is to shoot us down before we get you." He said and one student by the callsign of Blazer, a younger version of Hangman pretty much.

"What happens if we don't get you first?" He asked all cocky. Both Jake and Bradley were having flashbacks. They both looked at each other since they were flying by each other Hangman man held up 3 and Bradley nodded.

"You have to give us 300 push-ups with Hondo." Bradley said and Blazer and the other pilot by the callsign Fireball and their WSO Comet scoffed.

"You're on." Fireball said and the dogfighting began.

Everything was going smoothly Bradley and Jake teamed up and they shot down all the students. As they Jake and Bradley were coming back into land Bradley's jet started to malfunction. "Hangman, my jet his not acting right." Bradley said and this worried Jake enough to fly up next to him, it was only him and Bradley in the air. He got there right as soon as Bradley's engines just quit both of them all together.

"Woah. Control tower this is Rooster. My jet just lost both engines at the same time." Rooster said as he felt his jet jerk. When Goose, Ice, Slider, and Maverick heard that their hearts dropped especially Goose's. They could see the smoke in the air. Bradley was losing altitude and fast.

"Maverick to Rooster. You are going to have to eject. Hangman you are going to have to fly away from him so he can safely eject." Maverick had taken over one of the mics which they let him. Jake didn't want to leave his husband but did what he was told and Bradley did just that but instead of being the right altitude from the ground he was closer than anticipated and his chute deployed late and he hit the ground hard. He hit is hard enough to twist his ankle and hit his head on a rock which resulted in knocking him out.

"Hangman, did you see a chute?" Goose asked his son-in-law asked and Jake didn't reply at first but after a few minutes he did answer.

"Yes, I saw one but it looked like it opened too close to the ground. The plane is on fire but it looks to be intact. I can see him but he's just laying there. A medical helicopter needs to be deployed. I'm landing now and going on that helicopter." Jake said giving nobody any room to talk. Nobody was going to argue with him they were already racing down to the tarmac just a Jake landed and parked his plane. He quickly got out and met them and they ran to the helicopter only two were allowed to go nobody argued when Goose and Jake got on there.

The medical helicopter flew to the crash site and two of the paramedics jumped out along with the base physician. They assessed him and quickly got him on a backboard and carried him to the helicopter Goose and Jake were silent. The physician began talking "Looks like he had hit his head based on the crack in the rock and his helmet and sprained his ankle based on how he was laying. We'll get him to the base hospital and get him further assessed." He told Goose and Jake and they nodded to afraid to talk.

20 minutes they arrived at the hospital where Bradley was rushed into the hospital. Jake and Goose were ushered into the waiting room where they had to wait for results. Maverick, Ice, and Slider showed up at the hospital in record time. They quickly found the other two "Any word?" Maverick said and Goose shook his head.

"They rushed him away. They wouldn't tell us anything. Oh god, I need to call Carole." Goose said and rushed to do that and then it hit Jake.

"Someone needs to go and pickup Y/N." Jake said almost absentmindedly not looking at anybody really. He was so shook up and wasn't thinking right.

"I'll go and get her." Ice said since everyone was shook up. They would've asked Goose to ask Carole but she would be too torn up to do anything. Everyone looked at Ice and Jake about burst into tears, he actually hugged the man. Slider was going to go with him but opted not to since he knew he needed to do this alone and plus he is the strong one out of all of them right now.

"Thank you. Tell her what is going on please, I hate keeping her in the dark. I know it should come from me but I don't think I would be able to make it through it." Jake said and Ice hugged him back and nodded his head.

"Anytime. Of course I'll tell her." He said and they both let go of each other and Ice headed to his truck since he drove. Thankfully everyone agreed to keep a car seat in their cars incase they need to pick her up. Ice quietly drove to the preschool and walked into the front office the receptionist looked up and smiled.

"What can I do for you?" She asked and Ice smiled back but it didn't reach his eyes.

"I'm here to pick up Y/N Seresin-Bradshaw." He said and she nodded.

"Can I have the reason for her being picked up?" She asked him, he was getting agitated but understood it was protocol.

"Family emergency." Ice said and that is all he said and he saw her face fall.

"Of course. I'll go and get her." She said and he nodded and he stood there waiting he signed the papers that needed to be signed. After a few minutes they the receptionist walked in with the spitting image and Jake and Bradley. Ice just thinking about Bradley got him upset.

"Grandpa Ice!" Y/N shrieked out and once again Ice smiled but this time he had tears in his eyes. He bent down to her level when she was in his proximity.

"Hi, Sunshine." Ice said to him using his nickname for her. He grabbed her and hugged her tightly.

"Too tight!" She said and he let her go but picked her up. "Papa and Daddy?" she asked him and his heart broke. He started to walk out of the building. He made sure that they were at the truck before answering.

"Your Daddy had an accident and your Pops is with him at the hospital." Ice said as he started to put her into her car seat and she was silent. She was smart for her age and understood many things. "But, your Daddy is with the best doctors right now making him better." Ice said looking her right in her eyes, the eyes mixed with Jake and Bradley. She nodded her head but was silent again Ice's heart broke. He shut the door and got into the driver side he quickly sent a text to Jake and started driving to the hospital. The truck was silent neither of them wanted to speak.

When Ice and Y/N arrived at the hospital they found a parking spot and it was next to Carole's car. Ice parked and got out and worked on getting Y/N out. He worked in silence. When he got her out he held her and walked into the hospital where Jake greeted him.

"Hi, Sweets." Jake said in a broken voice. He took his daughter from Ice and she snuggled into him.

"Daddy?" Y/N asked Jake and it brought on tears from him.

"Daddy is hurt, Sweets." Jake said as they were walking to the rest. Goose immediately took her and hugged her tightly and Carole joined them. Hugging her, Bradley's flesh and blood, made them feel comfort. Jake nor Y/N made any complaint when she was taken from his arms, they knew they needed comfort. After a minute they let up and all sat down not saying a word.

Jake was thinking about losing his husband and Y/N losing a parent.

Goose and Carole was thinking about losing their son and their granddaughter losing a father.

Maverick, Ice, and Slider was thinking about what happened with Maverick when he and Goose got into their accident. Maverick was taking it the worst, it brought back bad memories.

Y/N was just silent. She didn't know what to think. She would not leave Jake's side no matter what. She just wanted her daddy.

What felt like forever, but just really 2 hrs. since Bradley was brought in, the doctor came out. "Family of Lt. Commander Bradley Bradshaw?" He said and everyone got up and walked over.

"I'm his husband and this is his daughter but we have other family members here." Jake said holding his little girl in his arms and nodding towards her. The doctor nodded.

"I'm Dr. Ford. Bradley is in a medically induced coma to let the swelling come down from his brain a CT scan confirmed that. He sprained his ankle." Dr. Ford said and everybody was relived but still worried.

"Can we see him?" Slider asked since nobody else trusted their voice and the doctor nodded.

"Yes, you can. I'll take you to him now." He said and turned and started walking and they followed. They arrived at his room number to find him hooked up to a breathing machine and IVs. Everyone started to cry.

"Daddy?" Y/N asked in a small voice but when he didn't respond to her she started to cry and reaching for him that broke everyone's heart.

"You can touch him and talk to him." Dr. Ford said and they nodded.

"Can she lay with him?" Carole asked for all of them and Dr. Ford nodded.

"Yes, since he is not in critical condition she is allowed to just watch out for the wires and IVs." Dr. Ford said and they nodded Jake gently put her next to Bradley and she cuddled into his side. "I'll leave you all alone. If you need me don't hesitate to call, a nurse will be in here to check on him." Dr. Ford told them and they all nodded to him.

"Thank you." Jake said and Dr. Ford nodded and walked out of the room. It was silent except for the heart monitor and the sound of the breathing machine. Y/N did not move an inch and she wasn't going to. Jake was sitting next to him on the side where Y/N was and started to cry the tough guy and cocky aviator act falling. Everything was running through his mind. Was this the last time Bradley would do his daughter's hair? Was this the last time Bradley would help get her ready for school? Was this the last time Y/N would see her father? He hoped the answer would be no but time would tell.

Nurses were in and out out of his room all throughout the day and night. Jake had let The Daggers know what was going on and they all replied back but Jake didn't answer them. Y/N laid right by Bradley's side and would not move not even with bribery all she would say "Me no leave daddy." and they left her alone not wanting to fight her and make her upset. It was getting late and Maverick, Slider, and Ice had to leave since they had to give a brief on what happened even though it was a Saturday. They did come in and out and brought changes of clothes for everyone. Goose and Carole would leave every now and then to go and grab things that were needed including food and snacks and drinks. Which they snacked on while they were there.

On the second day of Bradley being in a medically induced coma they wanted to run another CT scan to see if the swelling had gone down during the night. Nurse Sofie walked in and told them what was going. "Hello, I'm Nurse Sofie and this is Nurse Parker. We are here to take him down to get a CT scan." Nurse Sofie said and they smiled and nodded their head. Jake went to get Y/N, who was asleep at the time.

"Sweets?" He asked rubbing her back and she slowly woke up rubbing her eyes "They need to take Daddy for a minute." He said and got a panicked look on her face and started to shake her head.

"No." She said and Jake sighed he was going to have to force her and he hated doing that. Jake got ahold of her.

"Com'n Sweets." He said and started to pick her up and she started to fight and cry but he got her in his arms and stood back where Goose and Carole were, she started to cry harder and try to reach for him but Jake held her tight.

"Daddy don't go!" Y/N yelled and everyone's heart broke as Nurse Sofie and Nurse Parker, even there hearts broke. Y/N cried and gave up for reach for Bradley and reached buried her head into Jake who rubbed her back and shushed her and slowly fell back to sleep with tear tracks on her face and down her cheeks.

"She really is attached to him." Carole said and Jake nodded and laughed as they all took a seat and waited. "Bradley used to be like that when he was younger. He would always choose Goose over me." She said with a giggle.

"That is true. Especially when he was sick. We could never figure it out." Goose said smiling but it didn't reach his eyes. They continued to talk for a few minutes and every now and then Y/N would move but would stay asleep.

20 minutes had passed and they were bringing Bradley back. Nurse Sofie and Nurse Parker got him back in his spot and hooked him back up. Nurse Parker spoke up "Dr. Ford will be in here in a few minutes." She said and they nodded and thanked them and they walked out. Jake thought about putting Y/N back with Bradley but didn't want to wake her but knew she would be upset, so he gently got up and walked her over to him and laid her down minding the wires and IV lines she must've sensed that she was back her her daddy because she snuggled into him.

Dr. Ford, Nurse Sofie, and Nurse Parker walked in after Jake but her with Bradley and walked over to him along with Goose and Carole. Jake looked over to Y/N one last time checking to see if she was ok then turned his full attention to the him. "The swelling has gone down tremendously and we are planning to wake him up tomorrow morning. I just want his brain to rest during the night. Amnesia is a possibility but I have a good feeling that he'll be just fine." Dr. Ford said everyone sighed in relief.

"Do you want me to move her when you wake him up?" Jake asked and Dr. Ford shook his head.

"She should be ok. No sense in waking her up and she's small enough she won't be in the way." He said and Jake just nodded. "Have a good rest of your night and I'll see you in the morning." He said and they thanked him and then he left. Jake let out a breath that he didn't know he was holding. He was getting his husband back and his little girl was getting her daddy back. The rest of the night they took turns keeping watch until the next morning. Jake let everyone know what was going on and that they were planning to wake him up in the morning. Goose and Carole answered for Jake after he sent it and everyone started to text back.

The third day they were going to be waking him up early 7 a.m. in the morning. Dr. Ford, Nurse Sofie, and Nurse Parker walked in with their things they needed to reverse him. Y/N was still asleep and they let her sleep considering what she had been through. They got to work in removing his breathing tube and when he started breathing on his own everyone was relieved. He also started to push Methylphenidate which reverses a medically induced coma. Once the medication was gone they took a step back "It may take a few minutes, hours, or a few days for him to wake up but him breathing on his own is a very good sign. I'll leave you guys alone but when he does wake up let me know." Dr. Ford said and they nodded.

"Will do Doc." Jake said and resumed his sitting next to his husband. Bradley was breathing on his own and that made Jake incredibly happy. He wasn't going to lose his husband and Y/N wasn't going to lose a father. They waited around for him Maverick and Ice had come back to the hospital to be there for their family.

"How is Y/N doing with all of this?" Maverick asked looking at the now awake girl since it was 10 a.m. and eating some Goldfish and drinking her apple juice. They had turned on the TV so she could watch it. She would take bathroom breaks every now and then but would be back at Bradley's side in an instant.

"She's doing ok. Hasn't left his side." Jake said. Around 5:30 p.m. Y/N had fallen asleep.

6 p.m. rolled around and Bradley started to show some signs of movement. Bradley groaned and slowly opened his eyes which caught Jake's attention and he was by his side in an instant and so was everyone else. "Hi, baby." Jake said to Bradley and he looked lazily over to Jake and smiled. He smiled at everyone else.

"Hi, babe." Bradley said back, and then he felt a weight on him and looked down and smiled, there was his sweet and sassy little girl. He would get to her in a minute he looked up to everyone else.

"Hi, guys." Bradley said to the rest. They all said their hellos back and Carole started to cry. "Mom don't cry." He said.

"They're happy tears baby." She said and they smiled at each other. Finally, he looked down to his little girl.

"How long has she been asleep?" Bradley asked and curled his arm around her. She stirred but didn't wake up.

"Since 5:30 p.m., do you want me to wake her up?" Jake asked and Bradley shook his head.

"No, I will." Bradley answered "Hey, Honey." He said and started to rub her back she stirred again and he chuckled. "It's time to wake up, Honey." He said once more and kissed her head and that woke her up. She woke and looked up.

"Daddy?" She asked and when she looked up and saw him looking at her, her face lit up "Daddy!" she yelled excitedly and hugged him and e groaned in pain.

"Easy, Sweets. Daddy is hurt remember?" Jake said and she let up but everyone was smiling.

"Yes, Papa." She replied looking at him.

"I'll go and get the nurse." Ice said and left the room but came back a minute later with Nurse Parker in tow. She checked his vitals and then paged Dr. Ford.

Dr. Ford came in and explained everything and Bradley listened carefully. He wanted to keep him in the hospital for at least two more days just to watch him and he nodded. He left the room to let the family be together. Carole, Goose, Maverick, and Slider said that they were going to go down to the cafeteria to grab coffee and food. They were so relieved they didn't have to lose a member of their family and a little girl didn't have to lose one of her fathers.

Once they were gone Jake finally was able to break down and hug and kiss his husband, of course, Y/N made a grossed-out noise as she always did but Bradley attacked her with kisses. Jake stood back and watched the scene. This is how it's supposed to be.

Jake was relieved. He couldn't wait to get his husband home and take care of him. That man was his life. He was his daughter's life too. He couldn't imagine how she would be if he was gone. Now he doesn't have to. Bradley was with them and that is all that mattered.

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bobafetts-princess · 24 days

Text

Good Luck Charms

Months 7-12

Summary: After things have become a touch less frosty between you and Detective Magalon, you find that you actually like the man quite a bit. Maybe more than you bargained for.

Pairings: Benny ‘Borracho’ Magalon x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 7.5K

Warnings: cursing, canon-typical sexism, mentions of substance issues (pain meds), someone gets shot.

A/N: This is slow burnnnnnnnnnnn

Months 1-6 can be found here!

MONTH 7

Month 7 is when things change.

It’s a raid. You’ve all been on one before but never together and the guys have never seen you this dressed down. They’ve only ever seen you in work clothes; pencil skirts and jackets, power suits, wrap dresses, slacks and silk blouses. You never have a hair out of place, it’s always styled with the perfect work makeup.

But today your hair is braided, you’ve got on jeans and a pink button down and brown boots, with a bulletproof vest over the top. Not an ounce of makeup. It’s a different side of you and the guys don’t know what to make of it.

“Fed? Is that you?”

“What’ve you done with the chick that comes to the office every day?”

“Well damn I didn’t know you owned a pair of jeans!”

You roll your eyes at all of them, flipping them the bird which makes them cackle. Detective Magalon doesn’t say anything, but it doesn’t bother you.

Really. It doesn’t.

But the raid goes sideways, only a little. One of the ATF guys doesn’t clear a room completely and you get shot.

Well, not really shot. More like grazed. It rips a hole in arm of your shirt and slices you deep enough that you think you’ll need stitches, but you’re alive and that’s the important part. You’re just lucky it was your non-dominant arm so you can still pull the trigger.

Detective Magalon takes the guy down and checks on you, but you wave him off. It’s not the first time you’ve been shot and in your line of work? It won’t be the last either.

“I’m fine. Finish the raid. Suspect is in the center,” you yell over the sound of gunfire. Big Nick finds him and tackles him down, wrestling with the gun and managing to get it away from him. You’re next in, jumping on the suspects back and getting cuffs on him before he has a chance to get away.

You’re running on pure adrenaline and haul the suspect up, it’s the head of cocaine sect of the organization. Catching him alive was the number 1 priority of this mission and you and Detective Magalon (with the help of his team) have succeeded. You shove him out, handing him off to Mike to be booked and turn, looking to the team. They’re exchanging high fives and cheers and Detective Magalon smiles at you. Henderson comes to high five you and you raise your arm to give him one back. You’re smiling and relieved until a shot of pain goes through your arm and you have to drop it.

Benny knows you got shot. He was there when you jerked, grabbed the spot and yelled at him to keep going. He knows you got shot even though you cuffed the suspect and marched him out. He really knows you got shot though when you move to give Henderson a high five and gasp in pain. Medical doesn’t arrive quick enough (in his opinion, at least) but they end up patching you up. They’ve gotta strip you out of that pretty pink button up, leaving you in a white undershirt and jeans as they give you stitches in the back of an ambulance. Benny notices a tattoo along your collarbone that he hadn’t seen before and he wants to get a closer look.

“You good?” He asks, stepping over after being checked himself. You glance up at him and Benny is surprised to see a light dancing in your eyes, the after-effects of an adrenaline rush no doubt. The guys are behind him, checking in on you at the same time he is. He catches some words and a date, something he definitely can’t see when you wear your buttoned up power suits and those fucking pencil skirts.

“I’m good, Detective,” your eyes are flicking between them all and you turn your body, wincing slightly as the needle punctures skin and he reads what the ink says. ‘How lucky am I to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard’. Benny wonders if it’s about an ex but shakes the thought away before it can take root. Why would you get a tattoo about an ex anyways? Stupid thought. But then you’re speaking again, drawing Benny’s attention. “It’s not the first time I’ve been shot. At least this one didn’t require surgery.” You quip and Benny’s eyebrows raise at the insinuation. He knows the group chat is gonna blow up about this little insight into your life in a while and Benny already wants to put his phone on mute.

************

MONTH 8

With month 8 comes…..coffee? You’ve found this little hole in the wall place by your government issued apartment that serves fantastic coffee. They open at 5:30 in the morning, so when you get there at 5:45, the coffee is hot and fresh. They know you by first name at this point and know what time you come by in the morning. It’s easier than making drip coffee and it tastes better too.

Well one morning your alarm doesn’t go off. Or you shut it off. Or you sleep through it. You’re not really sure what happens. But you do know when you open your eyes and check the clock and see 7:30, you’re flying out of bed. You dress and clean up in record time and are out the door by 8:15, to your coffee shop by 8:20 and ordered before 8:25.

It’s 8:45 before you get a coffee in hand.

“I’m so sorry honey!” Shouts the owner, a stunning woman in her late 60’s. “One of my girls has the flu and one of our coffee machines broke!”

“It’s okay Mrs. Akron,” you assure her but god you are so late. You’re never late. Ever.

“Here darling,” she says, out of breath and frazzled. “Take a large black coffee, on me!” She thrusts your caramel macchiato at you as well as the large black. You start to protest but she won’t let you. “I insist! You’re running late and probably overslept, so you might need an afternoon boost. Take it,” she says, closing your hand around the cup. You nod at her, stopping to stuff a $50 in the tip jar before you make it to work. You roll in at 9:00, three hours late. The entire office whips their heads up and watches you walk in but you refuse to let it bother you.

“You good?” Detective Magalon asks and doesn’t press when you nod.

“Do you drink black coffee?” You ask before you lose the nerve. He’s bought you so much food, the least you can do is give him your extra coffee. “My coffee shop gave me an extra and….” You trail off, setting the coffee on his desk and taking a seat without an answer.

“Thanks.”

You simply nod but a couple times a week you bring him a large black coffee.

*************

MONTHS 9&10

Months nine and ten brings a trial and it’s a long trial. The examination and cross examination and evidence and witnesses take nearly 6 weeks. You and Detective Magalon spend nearly every waking hour together, working with the district attorney to make sure all goes the way it should.

You’re both emotionally, mentally, and physically drained and by the time the jury is sent off to make their own decision, you feel like you can nap for hours.

In fact, you do.

The couch in the district attorney’s office is so dammed comfortable and you’re sitting next to Detective Magalon, whose body is just radiating heat. You’d both just finished testifying, his took 3 hours and yours took 4. You’re silent next to each other, too drained from all the information you had to recall and all the talking.

The next thing you know, you wake up. Your head is resting against Detective Magalon’s shoulder and you might (you’ll deny if anyone asks) have drooled on his shoulder. You push off him and get some distance between your bodies.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry. This case has taken it out of me. How long did I sleep?”

“Three hours.” He says, clicking his phone shut and looking at you.

“Oh my fucking god, you’re kidding? I’m so sorry,” you tell him but he waves you off.

“It’s been a long trial. I don’t blame you for being tired,” he says, standing. You hear his knees crack when he does and see a wince of pain cross his face as he makes his way to the restroom.

Oh my god, he let you sleep even though he had to piss? There’s no way you’re unpacking that right now.

Benny never tells you that he fell asleep too.

When the verdict comes back a few weeks later and the suspect is found guilty as sin, you celebrate. It’s only one person, only one head of the hydra you’re dealing with, but it’s something.

The guys get a couple packs of beer and one Friday after work, you drink together.

“Fed! You have to hang with us for a little while. You just had your first successful trial with us,” Connors insists and you agree to stay.

“One beer!” You tell them and they laugh and wave you off. It’s the first time you’ve ever drank with them and you’re so damn careful not to overdo it. They shoot the shit, swapping stories and peppering you with questions you refuse to answer.

“Still no boyfriend?”

“Is it hard working around such attractive dudes all the time?”

“Ever smoked weed? Does smoking disqualify you from being a fed?”

“You seem like the type to own a cat”

“Got a hot sister?”

Benny notices the last one makes you wince and he wonders why. Then he tells himself that it’s none of his business. But then he thinks of your tattoo and he can’t help but try to put the pieces together.

“Even if I did I wouldn’t tell you.”

“I wouldn’t know, all y’all are ugly.”

“No it doesn’t disqualify you.”

“That’s a weird statement.”

You swallow hard before you answer the last one.

“Doesn’t matter if I do, none of you are meeting her.”

Benny can see you’re uncomfortable and he doesn’t want the guys to latch on. So he takes the reins of the conversation, asking Big Nick about his latest divorce. Of course he launches into a huge speech about how it’s not his fault that he likes pussy so much and blah blah blah.

Benny shoots you a glance and notices you looking at him. You give him a small nod and raise your bottle in thanks.

At least, Benny thinks it’s in thanks.

********

MONTH 11

Month 11 earns you a nickname.

It’s another raid. Another head of the hydra that you’re looking for. You wear basically the same outfit, only this time the button down is army green instead of soft pink.

“You ready?” Magalon asks you, standing next to you and you wonder if he’s thinking of the last raid where you got shot. He’s wearing a long-sleeved black shirt with a grey LASD beanie over his hair. He hasn’t shaved in a few days and you see the strong salt-and-pepper there. It makes you twitch, low in your belly and wonder if he has-Jesus. A raid. You’re wearing a goddamned bulletproof vest and are getting ready to charge into a building where you might potentially get shot. Tamp that shit down.

“Yeah. I don’t think anyone is ever fully ready but I’m as ready as I can be,” you tell him, twisting your neck to look up at him.

“Try not to get shot this time,” he chuckles, looking at you. You nod, smiling as well and promising to do your best.

You get shot.

You actually get fucking shot.

It happens in a flash, one second the LAPD is declaring the room and by extension the building clear. The next second, you’re on the ground absolutely gasping for air.

“What the fuck?” Connors yells, pointing his gun that direction as Magalon covers your body with his own.

“You’re like a fucking magnet for bullets,” Magalon grumbles at you, grabbing you by the shoulder straps and moving to haul you out.

“Stop,” you gasp. “I’m fine, got the wind knocked out of me,” you tell him, pushing him off. The last thing you need is him getting shot in the back because he’s worried about you. “Get the suspect,” you tell him, pushing him off and finding cover behind a couple barrels off to your left. There’s a few more shots and a small shout of pain, hopefully from someone that isn’t on your side, before everything stops.

The barrels are moved out of the way and your gun flies up before you see who it is. Magalon. You never thought you’d be so happy to see him. “He’s cuffed. Connors shot him in the shoulder too but he’ll be fine. Unfortunately. Come on, you need a hospital,”

“No. No hospital. I’m fine,” you insist.

“Bullshit. Can you walk or do I need to carry you?”

“I’m fine. Seriously.”

“I guess I’m carrying you,” he says, handing his gun to Big Nick and moving to take off his own bulletproof vest.

“Damnit, I can walk,” you say, moving to stand.

“Good. Walk yourself to the ambulance so we can go to the hospital,” his jaw is set and you know that you’re going to end up at the hospital whether you like it or not.

“Fucking stubborn ass,” you snipe at him as you pass your own gun off to Connors.

“I’m going to get you a four leaf clover for luck, maybe then you’ll stop getting shot,” he shoots back and you can hear the frustration laced in his tone. As well as something else? Fear? Surely not.

“Ha!” Big Nick laughs and everyone turns to look at him. “That’s the perfect nickname for our fed. Clover,” and you groan because you know it’s going to stick. There’s no way it’s not going to stick. You don’t even get a chance to think about them calling you ‘our’ fed until you’re in the waiting room of the hospital.

—————————

“It’s two broken ribs and a nasty bruise,” says the ER doctor, sticking your x-rays up. “Desk duty for the next two months,” she tells you and you groan. Magalon hasn’t left your side yet, the others have, reports to write and debriefs to be held. “I’m going to give you some pain meds, I think the adrenaline hasn’t worn off yet and that’s the reason you aren’t feeling much pain.” You have been feeling pain but downplaying it in the hopes of fooling the doctor. Unfortunately for you, x-rays can’t fool a doctor. “I’m also going to insist that you take the next four days off, bed rest.”

She stares you down and you have no choice but to nod and agree. She turns to Magalon and says “as her partner, I fully expect you to keep her from over-exerting. And absolutely no sex until those ribs are healed,” she wags her finger at the two of you and you both splutter at the same time.

“We’re no-“

“It’s not like-“

The poor woman is confused and you can see why because Magalon introduced himself as your partner when they brought you back to the waiting room.

“I’m FBI,” you explain.

“I’m LA County Sheriffs Department. We’re partners on a case,” Magalon finishes the explanation.

“Ah, well. Regardless,” she points her fingers at you, “you’re on bed rest for four days.” She turns to Magalon, “I don’t know if you can make that happen but I expect you should try.” He nods and she moves to leave the room. “And I know you’re not being truthful about how much pain you’re in,” she points at you again and your face heats. Her finger swings to Magalon, “make sure she takes a pain medication. Take it with food. It’ll probably put you to sleep,” she warns before she heads out.

She must decide that either you aren’t going to take one or Magalon isn’t going to be able to convince you to take one because a nurse makes you take one before you’re allowed to leave.

“She’ll need another one in four hours,” she warns before she takes off. And of course, it takes almost 45 minutes to get out. Between filling the script and getting discharged, by the time you make it to the parking lot you’re a zombie. It’s been a long day and you’re sore, exhausted, and grouchy.

“I had the guys bring your car,” he tells you and you nod. “What’s your address? I need it to get you home,” he says. His voice is soft, like one you would use around a skittish dog as he helps you into the passenger seat but your tongue is thick and heavy and you can’t form words.

By the time Benny makes it back to the drivers seat, you’re asleep. Passed out against the center console and Benny can’t help but smile. You look so soft and peaceful and not at all like a woman who just got shot.

Benny decides to take you to his place since he doesn’t know how to get to yours. He bridal carries you up the stairs to his apartment and manages to get you inside without waking you. Benny settles you down in his bed, unsure of whether to leave your clothes the way they are or try to change you into something comfortable and decides to go with the latter.

He removes your shirt, hoping you’ve got a tank underneath it like last time and is relieved to find one. He slips one of his t shirts over your head, pulling it down across your body before reaching under to pull down the tank. He refuses to look at the tattoo, knowing it’ll kick his brain into overdrive if he does. When he removes the undershirt, Benny must brush against your bruise because you groan in pain but he manages to get it off without waking you. Remembering an old trick from a previous lifetime, he unsnaps your bra and pulls it out the arm holes of the shirt, tossing it with the tank. Jeans are last and he makes sure to keep the shirt pulled all the way down as he blindly unbuttons and strips you. Finally, he tucks you under the covers and grabs a pillow to take to the couch. He sets an alarm and passes the fuck out.

The thing that wakes you is the aching pain in your ribs. You groan, doing your best to sit up but god, they hurt so bad. Glancing around the room you expect to see your collection of plants and pink sheets, but are surprised by bare walls and black sheets.

“Where the fuck-“ you start but then Magalon appears in the doorway. It’s that moment that you realize you’ve been changed into clothes that aren’t yours and you narrow your eyes at him.

“I didn’t see anything. I closed my eyes,” he tells you, crossing the room. “I had to take you to my place because you fell asleep before you could give me your address,” he explains. He’s got a protein bar in one hand and a cup in the other and he hands the cup to you first. “It’s time for your next pain med,” he drops the little pill in your hand, “I know your ribs hurt,” he gives you a pointed look. Grimacing you take the pill and chase it with the water.

“Thank you,” you say when he hands you the protein bar. Scarfing it down, you glance up at him as he nods. “I’m sorry I fell asleep. God, you probably had to carry me inside, didn’t you?” Magalon chuckles and nods.

“I need to tell you that I’m not leaving your side until you can go back to work,” and you open your mouth to protest. “Nope. No arguments. I’m more than happy to take you back to your own place if that would make you more comfortable, but you are stuck with me,” he says and you can tell he isn’t going to argue with you about it and you don’t have the energy to try either.

“Fine. How did you get me changed without ‘seeing anything’?” You smile as he explains, careful not to laugh because you know that it’s going to hurt. “I need to shower. Do you think I’ve got enough time before this kicks in?”

“Not sure, but I think it might be safer to wait until you’ve rested a little more,” you can’t help but agree because as he leaves the bedroom again you feel the deep weight of exhaustion overtake you again and before you know it, you’re out.

—————————

The next time you wake, Benny is already there and waiting for you.

“No, I want to try to shower first,” shaking your head at him and trying to sit up. Goddamn, your ribs hurt. He gives you a hand and leads you to the bathroom.

“I’m sure I don’t have the right…anything. But feel free to use anything in my shower,” he says. “But leave the door unlocked just in case you need me. Do you want me to try to make you something to eat?” Your stomach gives an aggressive grumble at that exact moment and he laughs. “Fried egg sandwich? Coffee?” Nodding at both he takes off to his kitchen. Heading into the bathroom, you flip on the lights and take a look at yourself in the mirror. You look like absolute shit. Red eyes, dark circles, your hair is a mess and a half. You haven’t washed your face recently and you know that the shower is going to dry your skin out. Of course Magalon doesn’t have any body lotion either.

Stripping off the tshirt, one of Magalon’s no doubt, you inspect the large bruise on your right side. It takes up almost your entire ribcage, stretching from under your breasts to almost touching your hipbone and it’s a nasty deep purple. It’ll only worsen over the next couple days too, turning brown to green to yellow. When you turn on the shower, you realize you don’t have a clean towel.

“Magalon?” You call out and hear his answering response. “I don’t have a towel, can you bring me one?” There’s silence, then he calls back that he’ll do it in just a second. Locating a brush, you step into the shower and groan at the hot water on your skin. Magalon has a nice shower, a cool grey tile with glass doors. And he has several body washes to choose from. And an actual shampoo and conditioner, not a 4-in-1 combo. You wash your hair with one hand because it hurts to raise the other and skip washing your feet cause you can’t bend over to reach them, but damn do you feel better.

The towel and a pair of sweats is right outside the bathroom door when you get out. You try to rip a brush through your hair, but the exertion makes your ribs hurt too much. So instead, you dress and head to the kitchen. Magalon is in there, plating a sandwich and setting it next to a cup of coffee. Your damn ribs are absolutely aching but right now? You’re more hungry than you are anything else.

“You don’t have to do this.”

“I know. But you’re my partner and I’ve got your back.” Swoon. No-wait. No swoon. Swooning is bad.

“Can I ask you for a small favor?” He nods and you hold out the brush. “It hurts too much to try and brush it.” He takes the brush and looks at it a little funny before he moves to stand behind you. He’s so gentle with it, afraid to put any tension on your head and hurt you. He gets through it as you sip on the coffee, (black, gross) and it doesn’t take him much time and you feel so much better when he’s done.

“Do you want to take your pill now or after you eat?” You opt for now and he hands it to you with a cup of water. “Still tired? Did showering hurt? Do you need to nap?”

“A little but not like I was. No, I feel a lot better being clean. I guess we’ll have to see.”

“Do you want to head back to yours or stay here for now?”

“I’d like to go back to my place, but maybe food first,” Magalon nods and you suppose you should be calling him Benny now. “Clover is gonna stick, isn’t it?” He looses a chuckle and grabs his phone, pulling up a text thread.

Big Nick: How’s Clover?

Benny: Fine. She’s resting. Pain pills took her out.

A couple hours later.

Z: Clover still out?

Benny: Ya. Long day for her. She’s at mine.

Big Nick: Damn Borracho, how did you get that to happen?

Z: OooOOooooHHhhhhh

Connors: Apparently only drugged women go home with you.

Henderson: Y’all are obnoxious

Benny: Fell asleep before I could get her address.

A couple hours later.

Connors: Clover good? Still out?

Benny: Ya. And ya.

Henderson: You know Borracho, my favorite thing about you is how conversational you are.

You snort a laugh and immediately regret it, grabbing at your ribs.

“Are they always like that?”

“As long as I’ve known them. They’ve taken to you though, more than any other person we’ve worked with. Man or woman.”

“Why do you think that is?”

“They’re used to other departments being straight-laced and talking shit about us. You haven’t done that. You call the guys out when they need it and let shit slide that doesn’t. They respect that,” he says, shrugging.

“Is that what happened with the other female agents that worked with you guys?” And he nods.

“By now you know how they are and if they think they’ve found something that’ll bother you, they dig in. And they don’t know when to quit.”

Nodding you ask, “is that how you got the nickname Borracho?” It’s a far cry from how you made fun of his nickname all those months ago. He sighs heavily and you know it’s a story that irritates him a little.

“One time, back when it was Big Nick, Henderson and me, we had a work event. It was fancy and an open bar, so I naturally got shit-faced. Nick and his first wife had to help me out and make sure I didn’t vomit all over myself. Nick started calling me Borracho and I never got rid of it, especially once they realized I hate it.” Your sandwich is gone by now and you move to go put the plate in the sink but Benny stops you. He takes the plate and puts it in the dishwasher before coming to sit next to you again.

“That’s a horrible way to get a nickname,” you smile at him and he smiles back.

“Tell me about it.” A pause. “Getting shot is a much cooler way to get a nickname,” and you shoot him a small glare. “Do you want to try and nap again or are you alright?” Between the shower and the conversation, you’re exhausted again so you opt for another nap. “While you sleep I’m gonna run to the office and grab some files so I can get some work done while I’m out,” he tells you and you nod, drifting back down the hallway to his room. Pulling back the sheets and sliding in, you don’t even hear the front door shut before you’re asleep again.

—————————

You’ve forgotten how much you hate being on bed rest. It’s been years since you last were but good god it is awful. At least there’s company. Once Benny got back from the office with a box in the SUV and some get-wells from the boys, you’d finally felt rested. You got Benny to take you back to your own apartment and he chuckles when he walks in.

“This is the girliest place I’ve ever been in.”

“Leave my decoration choices alone,” but he’s not wrong. Everything is soft and feminine, a grey couch with pink and grey pillows. A baby pink sheets and comforter set and plants everywhere. “Thanks. Seriously. I appreciate you staying with me to make sure I’m okay.”

“No coffee machine?” He asks in lieu of a response.

“I only get coffee from that one place,” you remind him. “It’s easier and it tastes better than drip coffee from a pot.” He laughs and says whatever before he sets the files on your counter.

“Two more days, then you can go back to work,” he reminds you and you stick your tongue out at him when his back is turned. Your ribs still ache but you can at least take a pain pill and not pass out within 20 minutes, so that’s an improvement. “Do you want to sift through these files with me?” He asks and you groan. You don’t, you’re too foggy. “Okay okay, we don’t have to,” he chuckles and turns to you. “What do you feel like doing?”

Truth be told, you want to watch a show. Your favorite romantic show just released a new season last week and you want to get caught up. But it’s steamy and not a show to be watched with a coworker so you say, “is there a game on?” Benny quirks a brow at you and you sigh. You like sports but you just aren’t in the mood for them.

“What do you actually want to watch?” When you give him the name of the show he belly laughs and says “let’s watch it. Cmon. I want to see what it’s like.”

Two hours and several spicy scenes later, Benny is deeply invested in this show. He keeps asking questions and insisting things don’t make sense, but that’s only because he hasn’t seen the first couple seasons. If it didn’t hurt so much to laugh, you would be in absolute tears by now because who knew that Detective Magalon from the LASD would be into regency romances?

“Who is that man?”

“They’re in the garden alone. Don’t they have to get married now?”

“He touched her tit, they definitely have to get married now.

“Who is this entire family?”

Finally you get tired of answering his questions and suggest that you start the whole series over, so he can be caught up. He gives you a side eye, but you ignore it, starting from Season 1 Episode 1 and let it play. The two of you get through the first four episodes before it’s time for another pain med, you’re trying to stretch out the time you need them so you can wean. After you take it you curl into the couch, Benny at one end and you at the other. It doesn’t take long for this one to knock you out and eventually you’re stretched out, your head in Benny’s lap as he finishes the season by himself.

He picks you up as gently as he can, walking you down the hall to settle you into your own bed. He takes the time to examine the pictures hung up in the hallway when he heads back to the couch. He notices a girl in your pictures, one so similar in a way that’s more than just a sibling. You both look about the same age and share the exact same smile, often the both of you holding matching Winnie the Pooh plushies. The pictures of the two of you stop when you reach late teens, Benny guesses somewhere between 17-19. It’s just you now, you and your parents, you and another sibling, a brother. Benny starts taking the pieces and putting them together. A memorial tattoo, a refusal to talk about your family. A decided sensitive spot about your sister, or lack of? Benny doesn’t want to make assumptions, he knows what they say about assuming. But he’s a cop, a long time cop, and he knows how to make an educated guess.

You wake in your own bed, surrounded by your fluffy pink comforter and a deep ache in your ribs. It’s not time for more pain meds, so you decide to ice them down instead. Sneaking past a sleeping Benny and you take the time to study his profile. Strong nose and jaw, salt and pepper in his beard, eyes that have a capability to be soft. He really is an attractive man, if you were being honest with yourself, which you try not to be. He looks so peaceful when he’s sleeping, so much different without the deep furrow between his eyebrows. You try to be as quiet as possible as you make a bag of ice, but it doesn’t take him long to follow you into the kitchen.

“In pain?” He asks, leaning up against the counter. His beefy arms cross his chest and you have to avert your eyes quickly.

“Yeah. The sharp pains are gone but the aching pains won’t budge.” He nods before glancing at the clock.

“It’s early,” you glance at the clock yourself and notice it’s only 6 am. Old habits die hard. “Want to get out of the apartment for a while? We can go grab breakfast?” He offers. “Does that coffee shop you like serve a full breakfast?”

“Actually it does. I’ve never eaten breakfast there before though.”

“Are you willing to try it?”

“Anything to get out for a bit. Just let me finish icing my ribs first. It should take about 30 minutes. Do you need to go home and shower?”

Benny shakes his head, “nah, I took one in the guest room while you were sleeping. Want to watch your show while we wait?” Obviously the answer is yes and you can’t stop watching mid-episode so it’s after 7 by the time you leave the house. Benny orders literally only a cup of coffee and you side eye him a you order blueberry pancakes, bacon, and hashbrowns with a French vanilla cappuccino.

“Aren’t you gonna eat?” He shakes his head at you.

“Nah, not much of a breakfast eater,” he says, taking a deep drink.

“Breakfast is the best meal of the day,” and it sends the two of you into an argument about which meal actually is the best meal. (Benny says they’re all the same, which leads you to believe he doesn’t eat much outside of work.)

This silly argument lasts nearly the entire time you wait for food and when it does arrive, you dig in. You’re so hungry that you almost don’t notice that Benny steals a piece of bacon off your plate. “Hey! Get your own food!” You cry, moving to stab him with your fork, but he manages to dodge. He laughs, a full belly laugh, and the sound is delicious. “You should’ve ordered something,” you warn, covering your food with your arms. “I don’t share food.”

He laughs again and flags down the waitress, ordering a side of bacon and some toast. You glare at him until it arrives, and the waitress chuckles as she fills his coffee. “I don’t share food with my boyfriend either,” and before you can argue that Benito Magalon is NOT your boyfriend, she’s gone.

————————-

Benny stays with you the next day and a half, until Monday and you’re allowed to return back to work. He offers to drive you but you refuse, telling him you go in much earlier than he does. “I can stay on your couch again. I’ll wake up when you wake up,” he says and you finally relent. So the next morning, at 6:30 you head into the kitchen, only to find Benny showered and holding coffee. “Hey. I grabbed coffee,” he lifts said coffee. “Want me to drive your car?”

It’s so bright in the office, much more bright than the low lights of your home, and it makes you wince.

“Clover!” Comes the cry from your office mates as they see you. You can’t help but smile and then it widens when you see what’s on your desk. A tiny pot with something green in it, which upon further inspection turns out to be…..clover.

“You guys have to be fucking kidding me,” you laugh, gently so not to upset your ribs. There’s a loud ruckus of laughter from them, as if it’s the funniest practical joke they’ve ever pulled. “You know this won’t live, right?” Examining it, you notice that it looks like they literally dug it up from the front lawn and stuck it in a pot. “It needs a lot more light than it’s gonna get sitting on my desk,” you explain before thanking them for doing something so thoughtful.

Big Nick steps out of his office to welcome you back, reaching over to slap a hand on your shoulder. You brace, waiting for the impact to jar your ribs but a sharp ‘don’t’ from Benny stops the hand before it connects. “Those ribs are still broke, Nick,” he says, barely lifting his eyes from his files to acknowledge Nick. Nick grunts, turns, tells you how good it is for you to be back, then disappears.

Lifting your eyes, you notice the same stunned expression on everyone else’s face and exchange of glances with one another. And glances with you.

That Monday is one of the longest of your career. you barely get anything done and all you want to do is go home and rest, but you can’t. It’s nearly midday when your patience snaps because Henderson looks at you funny when you grunt in pain.

“Got something to say, Henderson?” You snap and he gives you a wide, nervous glance before his eyes snap to Benny. “No. Don’t look at him, look at me. Do you have something to say?” Benny, you see him out of the corner of your eye, checks his watch and then pulls his phone out.

You’re so annoyed because you know they’re texting their little group chat. And you know they’re texting about you. Especially when four phones go off at the same time, more than once.

Borracho: it’s her first day off pain meds. Cut her some slack.

Nick: been there.

Henderson: same.

Z: does she need anything?

Borracho: food. And a coffee.

Z: what does she like?

Borracho: get her General Tso’s and house fried rice. And a caramel macchiato.

Z nods, getting up from his chair and heading out the door.

“Y’all texting about me?” You snap, eyes sharp as they bore holes in Benny’s head. He gives you this soft, pitying look that absolutely makes you rage and stand up suddenly before you double over in pain. Stupid fucking ribs. Stupid fucking perp that shot you. Stupid fucking pain meds. Wait-pain meds. Oh goddamnit. That’s why you’re so grouchy, you haven’t had any today and you’re sore and shaky.

“Are you alright?” Benny asks, standing. You wave him off, heading to the back of the bullpen where there aren’t any eyes and take a couple deep breaths. After four days of basically living together, you recognize the sound of Benny’s feet as they come up behind you. “Hurtin’?” He asks and you nod your head. “Want to head home?” You shake your head, but you really like the way he uses home like it’s somewhere the both of you are going.

“Nah, I just need a little bit of food and probably some coffee,” and you’re confused when Benny smiles.

“That’s where Z went. He’s grabbing Chinese and a caramel macchiato.” And you know that it was 100% Benny’s idea.

“Thanks Ben,” you smile at him, placing a soft hand on his forearm. There’s a moment there, in the back of the bullpen, between the two of you. You’ve been toeing that line all weekend, really for the last two months and this might be the turning point in your relationship. Benny feels safe. Benny feels like comfort. Someone you can trust. Someone you can count on.

Which is amazing to you because it’s such a far cry from where you started, nearly a year ago. Which makes you think, then makes you apologize.

“I’m sorry for how I acted when I first got here.”

“It’s fine. I think you had the right to be, these guys are a tough nut to crack,” he says, gesturing to the bullpen behind them. “They don’t take very well to others, especially fed. The ones we usually deal with are snarky and uptight. They make fun of us or judge us.” You understand, really you do. It makes sense, how defensive they are and how they treat new people. “Are you sure that you don’t want to head home? I can work from there,” he offers and it makes your chest tight. But his phone dings and it’s Z, letting him know that he’s back and that makes your chest tight again. These men care about you, your physical and mental well-being, and they want to make sure you’re okay. So, you shake your head at Benny and head back to your desk, lobbing an apology to everyone for your behavior, and sit down. Grabbing a file, you start to flip through it, but before you even have a chance to look at it, a bag and a coffee are set in front of you. You glance up and smile at Z, thanking him and apologizing to him in the same breath. He waves you off and sits down, but you can’t quite let it go.

“Z, what’s your cashapp. Or your Venmo? Let me pay for this, you didn’t have to go get it for me,” you tell him but he waves you off again.

“Nahh, Borracho already paid for it. Don’t worry about it,” and when you look at Benny, he refuses to look at you.

*************

Month 12

Month 12, you’re added into the group chat. Your phone buzzes one morning with one text from Big Nick and you notice that there’s a bunch of numbers there that you don’t recognize. Benny’s you do, but no one else. After about a week he stopped sleeping on your couch but he still gets to the office early and the two of you spend your mornings in companionable silence, sharing breakfast.

Big Nick: Anyone up for grabbing donuts this morning?

Big Nick: Also, drop your names so Clover knows who’s who.

Clover: Isn’t being a bunch of donut loving cops a little cliche?

Big Nick: Rude. No donuts for you.

You laugh a little out loud, noticing the ache in your ribs has almost completely disappeared, nearly two months after you got shot. You know Nick well enough now to know that he’s joking and he’s not being the rude, brash, asshole you initially thought that he was.

Zapata: It’s Z. Can’t this morning, gonna do a witness call.

Connors: This is Connors. I’m already at a crime scene, so I can’t. Save me some though!

Henderson: This is Henderson. I’m gonna be late as it is, I don’t have time.

Benny: Borracho can grab some from the usual place.

Clover: Don’t get any jelly filled ones, they’re the worst.

Zapata: Uh oh.

Clover: What?

Connors: NO JELLY FILLED? THAT’S UN-AMERICAN. I’M GOING BACK TO THE OTHER GROUP CHAT.

You laugh out loud again, the idea of Connors taking jelly-filled donuts so seriously honestly tracks for who he is as a person.

Clover: I’m sorry! Get all the jelly filled that you want, but get me long chocolate donut. No jelly, please.

Connors: Borracho, get a dozen jelly-filled just to spite Clover.

Clover: Awe, Connors. You’re hurting my feelings.

Big Nick: It’s too early to be reading this many messages.

Clover: You texted us first.

Benny: Chill or I won’t get donuts.

Henderson: You started the group chat.

Connors: You text first?!

Zapata: Speaking of, what should I name the chat?

Big Nick: Why does the group chat need a name?

Zapata: Our other chat is called The Regulators. We need to name this one too.

Connors: How about the FEDulators? It sounds the same!!

Clover: That’s the worst name I’ve ever heard, Connors.

Clover: How about Clover and the Four Leaf’s?

Zapata: OoOoOoOhHhHhH!!!!! I like that!!!!

Zapata changed the group name to 🍀Clover and the Four Leaf’s 🍀

Big Nick: Y’all are fuckin’ idiots.

You’re already in the office and lift your head at the sound of someone coming into the bullpen. It’s Benny, carrying two dozen donuts. He smiles at you and it makes something go slippery in your chest and Jesus you’re an adult.

“Welcome to the group chat. It’s hell here,” he laughs, holding out an open box for you to grab one. The two of you sit in silence, eating donuts and sharing files.

#Benny Magalon #Benny borracho Magalon #borracho Magalon #benny Magalon smut #Benny Magalon fanfic #Benny Magalon fanfiction #Benny Magalon fic #borracho Magalon fanfic #borracho Magalon fanfiction #borracho magalon fic #Karie writes #bobafetts Princess writes #maurice compte #Benny Magalon x reader #Benny borracho Magalon x reader #Benny Magalon x you #Benny borracho Magalon x you

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prettyboypistol · 2 years

Note

Really happy that you do male!reader fics <3

Could you do Tf2 mercs x M!Reader’s first time being intimate nsfw :)

(I’m not sure if you’re taking nsfw request so srry if you’re not)

Tf2 Mercs x M!Reader "First Time With The Mercs"

NSFW so youngin's you know you can't be here :p

Includes: Scout, Spy, Heavy, Sniper, Demoman, Engineer, Soldier, and Medic x Male Reader

Scout

Scout is super awkward, but not in the shy way. Like the obnoxious way that tries to make anything a joke.

As you two start to get serious, he starts to get noisy with little whines, cut off moans, and heavier breaths.

If he tops, missionary 100%. If you top, cuddlesex/on your side.

In terms of dom/sub, he's prefer to dom, but is a natural at being a sub.

Cums embarrassingly quickly- please don't tease him he will cry.

He recovers fast, asking to fuck you/be fucked more

Suuuuuper insatiable when he gets into it

Complains that he wants more when you're tired, even if he's on the bring of passing out.

Your hands slide down Jeremy's slender chest as he shivered out a gasp. You looked to his eyes, he quickly averted his own.

"Don't be shy, I heard you're such a sex god." You tease before you kiss his forehead.

"I am! but like- it's different when you're fucking a girl!" He justified.

"Well, it's not too different really. I'll teach you." You promise as your hands slither around his waist to pull him flush against you. He squeaks rather loudly as you grab his ass through his pants.

"Now, be a good boy and take these off, alright Jer-bear?"

"That is the worst possible name you could have said."

Medic

Surprisingly he's more knowledgeable about m/m se- nvm he's quoting an anatomy book. (he knows what to do dw)

Probably a virgin because sex distracts from experiments

"I haven't lost my virginity bc i never lose" type beat

He isn't scared of touching you, his hands move like he's studying you.

He's a non-negotiable top. It doesn't matter how big or burly you are. Even if Heavy was to ask, he's a top.(95% dom, 5% sub)

You ride him on his vivisection table, his eyes are always on your chest and mouth.

God he nearly came wen you started calling him "Doctor" in-between moans.

Def dirty talks in German

"Well, hop up." He orders, like you're just here for another check up. He pats the table gently before he starts to unbutton his coat.

"Someone's all business." You teasingly mutter, a loving glare shot his way. He sighs in feigned annoyance and smacks your ass as an encouragement.

"Now sit down and start stripping."

"Alright Doctor."

You saw the word shiver down his spine. You saw his eyes light up.

You certainly felt the harsh and heavy kiss as you were pinned to the table.

Sniper

He's kinda just??? neutral??? when you ask him to hook up. V upfront with what he's into and what he'll do to you.

Mundy loves quickies so fucking much. Slow sex is too dangerous and makes him uncomfortable.

Alleyways, closets, bathrooms, it doesn't matter. He's proficient in standing up sex.

He's scared of danger, but also has the biggest danger kink.

Mundy is a switch in terms of top/bottom, but only doms

He loves pulling your hair if you blow him.

If you scratch up his back as he fucks you, he'll fuck you harder.

Loves to make you swallow if you give oral.

Bites you 100%. He growls and groans. Super animalistic.

You slide between Mundy's legs as his eye is nuzzled into position. He had agreed to let you come on a job with him, calling you his 'assistant' to the client. As you unzip his pants, he makes a quiet noise of warning.

"Careful, if you fuck up my shot, I'll make you pay for it." He mumbles, barely audible.

"Of course not sir, I would never." You hum, feigning inferiority.

His hands were just as careful as you let him fuck your throat. He suddenly shoves his cock all the way down your throat and tells you to be quiet for a second. You hear the rifle click, then a sudden boom! as he pulls back and lets you cough.

"Good boy."

Heavy

Mikhail is super excited and happy when you ask.

He's super careful with you, despite being surprisingly knowledgeable about the mechanics of sex with another man.

He openly says he's scared that he'll hurt you. You assure him that you like it rough.

Subtop, you cannot convince me otherwise.

As a romantic, he demands "our first" be in his bed.

You get to his room and it's full of roses and candles. You nearly fuck him in the doorway at the gesture.

He'd prefer doggy, but missionary is a close second.

The BIGGEST cuddlebug after.

"Fuck! Please!" You beg after what feels like the third hour of fingering. Heavy hushes you gently as he kisses the back of your neck.

"You need to be ready." He coos as his other hand cradles your neck and face. He's so agonizingly gentle it makes you want to cry.

"I'll be fine! I sear just please fuck me already!"

Heavy removes his fingers and pushes the head against you.

"If you're sure..."

Spy

He's the best you've ever had. If this is what sex is like with Spy, you'd have to marry him.

He knows exactly what to do to make you hot and bothered.

Honestly? a Vers Switch. He's a man that can shift to whatever his partner needs.

Bad at pillowtalk, but great at foreplay and the actual fucking.

He eats you out first, then teases you until you're begging.

Even if you're topping, he calls you his good boy. Sorry, you can't bang the sass out of him :/

Loves roleplaying. He pulls out the most convincing disguises for you.

Suit kink king over here

He's obsessed with making you cum with the minimal amount of touching.

You love the way Spy touches you. His hands pull over you in a way that makes you really feel like a man. He doesn't feminize you if you offer to bottom, either. You feel like a man in another man's arms.

"You're so handsome." He praises as he makes his way down to his knees. You cup his cheek and smile down at him.

"I bet you are too."

"Touch my mask and you'll be impaled."

"God I hope so."

Spy rolls his eyes as he unzips your pants. Hopefully you make the comment up with great sex.

Soldier

Kind of confused, but gets with the program pretty easy.

Bro you're gonna have to bottom, sorry :/

He's got a praise kink the size of Texas, please call him a big strong man.

He's a bit of a sucker for outside sex, especially fields with trees.

You offer to fuck him during a picnic, you can practically see the steam whistle out of his ears at the suggestion.

He wouldn't know how to prep you, but he'd watch in fascination as you prep yourself.

"C'mon Soldier, fuck me like a man."

He had to bite his lip to stop him from cumming in his pants.

Jane is on top of you, you can see his eyes from under the helmet and his pupils are BLOWN. He's super excited and loves seeing you.

"Well? Why don't you get in me and make a man outta me?

He lines himself up quickly and tries to push in, but you stop him before he accidentally hurts you.

"Whoa there! Be a little slow." You correct gently. Soldier opened his mouth and a loud start, but lowered his volume when you flinch.

"Sorry there. Slow, right?" He repeats with a kiss to your forehead.

Demoman

If sex was a performance he'd have multiple awards.

He's super enthusiastic and chill about it, retelling all of his boyflings in Scotland and hungover mornings surrounded by many burly men.

"You don't know how long it's been since I've had a dick in me!"

Powerbottom or very enthusiastic top

Multiple rounds, all night long. He's an advocate for snack breaks in-between.

You two are naked just on his bed eating pizza and shooting the shit as if you didn't blow his back out 10 minutes before.

Homiesexual as FUCK

You two are super chill, cracking jokes about your dicks during sex

"okokok serious now" "Aye lad, stick that meat in me-" "PFFT-"

Tavish is barely able to keep it together as you two banter between gasps of air. Yeah, the sex is amazing for both you and him, but the fact that you two just get on so well ruins any sort of flirtatious mood.

"I'm going to rail you so hard you can't speak." You promise.

"Didn't you say that last time mate?" Tavish teases as he locks his legs around your hips. "Doesn't mean you can't try again."

You smack his flank and both of you let out a small giggle as you push yourself fully inside of him.

Engineer

He's the most LOVING ASS BITCH

HOMIE

H O M I E

Lies you down, kisses you all over, treats you like a proper houseguest and lover.

He knows exactly what to do, he talks you through what he does to you and how he'll do it.

Dell is a babbler during sex 100%

"Aw fuck baby that's it, that's fuckin' it- God damn honey you're an angel!"

Gentlest top, most loving Dom/submissive bottom

Has been in a few secret m/m relationships

"Dellllll" you whine in his arms, he kisses you at your collarbone in response.

"I know, thank you for letting me do this." He adores. You agreed to let him kiss you up and down before you started actually fucking. Little did you know beforehand, you would be stuck on the bed for twenty minutes as he worshipped every inch of you.

You felt your hands snake up his warm back as you beg him for the 30th time tonight for him to get on with it. He chuckles as your insistance.

One last kiss and he removes himself from you. "Alright, you've been patient enough."

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chrisevansdaughter · 2 years

Note

how about chris looking after reader who's got a cold xx just a super fluffy comfort fic! love you xxxx

It started with a sniffle

Paring: Chris Evans × Daughter! Reader

Summary: reader has a cold that turns into a chest infection so she definitely isn't feeling well so Chris is always there to give all the super fluffy comfort she needs.

Warnings: illness, medication, antibiotics, feeling nauseous, dehydration, health anxiety, crying and just feeling like rubbish.

(This is basically a self indulgent type fic because l'm still getting over my chest infection that is definitely clearing so I hope you enjoy!)

It all started with a fever, a stuffy nose and your body feeling like it’d been hit by a truck or dodger coming at you full speed. Whichever you wanted to say was worse.

Your dad was concerned of course because you weren’t someone to get ill, not like this of course - you had been picking at your food at best and it kinda all just went down hill from there.

When you slept you’d wake up in a fever of sweat, shivering the next minute and going back to sleep soon after. Coughing turned into hacking and having multiple coughing fits a day, even after taking a very hard deep breath since they were a struggle at best so your health anxiety wasn’t the thing that wanted to come out right now. Because anything at the moment of doctors can trigger it.

So when you coughed up a little more than some phlegm that was normal for how bad you were coughing… let’s just say that health anxiety was very much triggered at that point your dad just wanted to take you to the doctor or the hospital but you flat out refused.

Locked yourself in your room refused. Because your anxieties can rub off on eachother so sometimes your eachothers worse enemy.

After a lot and I mean a lot of convincing and talking Chris finally managed to get you to agree to go to the hospital because you hadn’t been really eating or drinking so he just wanted to get you checked out for piece of mind.

“Bubba I’m sure they’ll just have a check up and send us home with some stronger cold medicine okay” dad whispers in my ear whilst I’m buried in his chest clinging on to him, whilst sat in the doctors room at the er.

All I can do is wince back at him because talking whilst coughing before or after and where we are isn’t the best for me, so I had an AirPod in with noise cancelling to try and help the anxiety.

A little time later the doctor came back in and zoning out was all I did, even slightly when the doctor was trying to talk to me but dad knew what and how I was feeling, we ended up having to stay in for rehydration and some stronger antibiotics and meds because they had found out I had a chest infection on top of flu.

Scott did his uncle duty of dropping by with all of my comforts to help whilst I was in the worst place I could think imaginable, the peds team I had were the best, my nurse Emily was so sweet - she made sure I was as calm as I could be and even made sure dad was okay and she even played mario kart with me.

So the three days I spend in hospital all in all weren’t that bad because of the nurses and doctors who were looking after me and dad was there every step of the way even if I was worried about getting my flu that I was anxious about passing on.

Coming home was the best feeling ever, even with all the home comforts that were with me there is nothing like my room, my own bed and just mine and dads space with dodger of course!

I was on strict rest and fluids with what I like to call a toddler diet because Emily told me just to eat what was considered safe food for me since I’m still trying to get my appetite back so I’m eating chicken nuggets and strips with ketchup. And blueberries with kinderlyte for rehydration.

So it was snuggles and movies with dad until I was feeling back to my normal self, but I could go see people in about 3 days when most of the ickiness should be cleared and we’re going to see grandma so I’m happy.

And to think it only started with the sniffles

taglist!

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if you guys would like to be added to my tag list please do comment or iust send in an ask:)

Reblogs, feedback and asks are appreciated <3

#chrisevansdaughter #chris evans #chris evans daughter #chrisevansdaughter loves 💖❤️#chrisevansdaughter speaks 🫶🏻#chrisevansdaughter online 💖#chrisevansdaughter moots #chris evans x reader #chris evans x adopted daughter!reader #chris evans x daughter #daughter!reader #chris evans daughter asks answered #fluff #chrisevansdaughter loves you all ✨#chris evans x daughter!reader #chris evans x teen!reader #chris evans fic #chris evans headcanon #chris evans fanfiction

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persephonewritessometimes · 1 year

Text

me and the devil / unsub!hotch x reader / chapter three

Summary: Hotch has wormed his way into Y/N's life, much to her surprise. What happens when she lets him see the darkness in her? Will he return the favor?

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x AFAB Reader

Word Count: 8557 (i got a little carried away)

Warnings: HARASSMENT, MENTIONS OF M*RDER, Y/N TALKS ABOUT K*LLING SOMEONE (in self-defense), HOTCH TALKING ABOUT M*RDER, DARK!HOTCH, BLEEDING, KNIFE WOUND, STITCHES, MEDICAL INSTRUMENTS, strip club, cursing, Derek being a cheeky bastard, pilates (not sure if this should be a warning but putting it here just in case), hotch being pushy, stubborn!Y/N, stubborn!hotch, flirting, reid get's propositioned

Key: y/n = your name

Author's Note: I apologize for the slow pace at first, I have to lay the foundations of the story! Also apologies for the long chapter, I just had a lot I wanted in this one!

me and the devil series masterlist

This work is meant for readers aged 18 and over. You are responsible for your own media consumption.

I had just come through the door after a very long day at clinical when my phone started to ring. I cursed, dropped my clinical bag on the floor, and almost tripped over Cujo in the process. Where’s my damn phone? I’m digging through my bag then remember that I shoved it into one of my backpack pockets. I rip my backpack off and open the zipper pouch, not even checking the caller ID. It’s probably Tia, she’s really the only one who calls me anyway, usually wanting to tell me about her shitty boyfriend.

“It’s Y/N, what’s up bitch?”

“Do you answer the phone like this every time?” Hotch’s dry voice stops me dead in my tracks.

“Oh my god, Hotch, um, no I thought you were one of my friends. She’s usually the one calling me.”

“Don’t you have caller ID?”

“Yes, but you have horrible timing. I just got home and nearly landed on my face trying to get my phone out of my backpack.” He chuckles and my stomach flutters. “What can I help you with today, Agent Hotchner?”

“Are you busy right now?”

“Well, that depends. I have pilates in thirty minutes but you’re more than welcome to join me.” I say, knowing full well he won’t take me up on the offer.

“I’m down for pilates. Where is it?” My brain short circuits a little bit.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Where do you do pilates?”

“You? Want to come to the pilates class? With me?”

“Why not? I’ve been cooped up in my office all day.”

“Um, sure.” I give him the address of my favorite gym. “Oh, and the air conditioning is always on the fritz so dress light.” Seeing him drop off the car for me the other day made me horny enough, with him in a tight quarter-zip and jeans, I can’t imagine what seeing him in workout clothes will do to me.

“Got it. I’ll see you there.” The line goes dead, and I stare at my phone for a few minutes trying to understand what just happened.

“Okay. I’m a little confused, but I’ll take it.” I mutter to myself as I put my backpack away, shove my clinical bag in the closet, and head back to the bedroom. I shimmy out of my scrubs, tossing them in my hamper before digging through my drawer of workout clothes. I usually just throw on whatever is on top and call it a day, but now I’m pulling everything out. Y/N, he’s literally seen you in next to nothing and in sweats, it doesn’t matter what you wear to pilates.

I settle on a sky-blue matching cropped tank and shorts and rush into the bathroom to fix my hair before I slip on a pair of shoes, kiss Cujo on the head, and I’m out the door. I jog down the stairs to the car he’s loaning me – he told me it’s decommissioned, but it’s still a black-tinted SUV and draws a lot of attention. I feel like a badass every time I drive it, and also that I might accidentally take out an unsuspecting mailbox.

I hear a low whistle and I see one of my downstairs neighbors, Max, approach with his hands on his hips.

“Who’d you have to blow to get that ride?” He says, grinning at me.

“Would you believe me if I said no one?” I shoot back.

“Not in a million years. Looks military-grade, like the cars they have at the FBI headquarters.” I watch as the gears start to turn in his head, and I just smile at him sweetly. “Wait a minute. Is this an FBI car?”

“A woman never kisses and tells.” I say, turning to walk to the driver’s side and shout over my shoulder, “It’s been decommissioned!”

“Who gave that to you?” He shouts.

“Doesn’t matter! I’m just borrowing it!”

“Can I meet him?”

“Hell no!” I get in the car and slam the door shut, buckling my seat belt. The gym I like is only five or six minutes from my apartment and I make it there in no time. I check my hair in the car mirror, messing with it until I’m satisfied, before sliding out of the giant SUV. I’m locking the car when a matching black SUV pulls into a spot a few down from me. I try to swallow my grin as I stroll over to Hotch’s car, and when he gets out my mouth goes dry. I knew he was muscular under that suit, but god damn he’s hot. He’s in a black tank top and black shorts and I want to do some not-very-pure things to him.

“Hey!” I say, kind of out of breath and I curse myself for it.

“Hey to you too.” He shoots me a disarming smile, and I turn and start to walk to the entrance. "Is now a good time to tell you I’ve never done pilates before?”

“Well, don’t come crying to me when you’re in pain tomorrow,” I say, and grin at him. I push open the door and swing right towards the stairs. “You’ll probably be the only guy in class, so I apologize in advance if everyone’s ogling you.” I wink at him, and he laughs.

“Got it. How hard can pilates be anyway?” He says, and I laugh at that, someone joining in at the top of the stairs. It’s Lily, the pilates instructor.

“Famous last words, my new friend,” Lily says when we get to the top of the stairs.

“What’s the AC status today, Lily?”

“Lukewarm air, so you’re gonna sweat, sorry.” I groan and Hotch and I follow her into the large room. I grab a mat by the door, and Hotch follows suit.

“Do you want to be in the front, middle, or back?” I ask, motioning at the space. There are only a couple of people here so far, so we have our pick of spots.

“Front. So I can see what the instructor is doing.”

“Smart choice.” We make our way to the front and lay out our mats. I immediately slide off my shoes and start stretching. I sit with my legs out in front of me and stretch toward them, folding gracefully. I flex my feet a couple of times as I’m bent over and then come back up, stretching my arms as I go. Hotch follows suit, stretching as well and before we know it the class has filled up and it’s time to begin. I can hear them whispering about them, the two girls behind us. They’re not as subtle as they think they are. I glance at Hotch and mutter, “Well, it looks like you’ve already got two admirers,” and minutely jerk my head in their direction. He just grins at me and shrugs and I roll my eyes at him.

Lily starts off slow, but by the middle of the class, Hotch is trying very hard to conceal his panting.

“Not so easy now, is it?” I say, shooting him a smirk. He glares at me and says,

“Shut up.”

“You’re not doing too bad.” I say, easily shifting to the next pose while he struggles, and I add, “At least, for a beginner.” He glares at me again and I just smile at him. When the class is finished, he flops down on his mat, chest heaving, and shirt soaked with sweat. It clings to his sculpted chest, and I realize I’m staring. I shift my gaze away, busying myself with stretching out instead. I finish stretching and Hotch is still lying there, breathing hard. “Do you need me to call an ambulance?” I ask, sweetly, and I hear Lily laugh. He scowls, pushing himself up and looking at me.

“You’re barely sweating, how is that possible.” He mutters.

“Well, I do this three times a week. Sometimes four.”

“YOU DO THIS THREE OR FOUR TIMES A WEEK? What are you a masochist?”

“Fuck around and you might find out,” I say, winking at him, and I swear the flush on the back of his neck isn’t just from the workout.

He catches his breath a few minutes later and stretches out as I pull my shoes back on. I roll up my map, tuck it under my arm and make my way to the back of the class, putting it away. A second mat thuds next to mine a few moments later and I can feel him behind me, his body heat radiating off of him.

“So, the final verdict on pilates?” I ask over my shoulder as we make our way out of the room, and he falls in step beside me.

“Hard. But good.”

“Not a man of many words, I see.” He chuckles at that.

“Do you want to get dinner with me?” I almost fall down the steps at that, and my hand grips the railing. He must read my response as negative when I’m really trying to get my breathing under control because the idea of spending time alone with him has me sweating. “I’m not expecting anything, I just want to get to know you better. You keep me on my toes – you’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met.”

“And that’s a good thing?” I ask, arching an eyebrow.

“That’s a very good thing.” He gives me a small smile. I’m quiet for a moment before saying,

“I would love to get dinner with you, but I really want to change my clothes and take a quick shower, if that’s okay with you.”

“Of course. I’ll just hang out with Cujo.” I laugh at that.

“Cujo would love to hang out with you.” We part ways at the door, and I get into my borrowed car and drive home with him trailing close behind me. I unlock the door and let him into my apartment, Cujo running up to Hotch first, instead of me. “Traitor,” I mutter at him, and I can hear Hotch chuckle behind me. “Make yourself comfortable, I’ll only be fifteen minutes or so.”

“Take all the time you want. I don’t mind waiting.” I make my way back to my bedroom and I’m struggling to decide what to wear when I hear his voice call to me.

“Hey, Y/N, what if we just get Chinese delivered instead?”

“Fine by me, I have a menu for the local place on my fridge. My favorite dish is circled if you want to go ahead and call it in.” I holler back. That makes my decision on what to wear a lot easier, I pull out a big T-shirt and a pair of gray joggers. I grab a pair of underwear and fuzzy socks and walk into the bathroom, rid myself of my sweaty exercise clothes, and turn on a hot stream of water. I can hear Hotch’s voice through the door ordering food, and I smile to myself as I step into the scalding water. I scrub my body efficiently and am done within ten minutes. I turn off the shower, step out on my bathmat, and dry my body off. I slip into the clothes I picked out, give myself a once-over in the mirror, and walk out of the bathroom. He’s on the couch with Cujo’s head in his lap when I emerge. I suddenly feel self-conscious in my lounge clothes, but I swallow it down. This man has seen me in next to nothing, an old t-shirt and joggers aren’t going to erase scandalous pictures of me inside his head. I settle on the couch opposite him, tucking my feet up under me and my hair behind my ears.

“Seriously, though, how can do pilates and still look angelic at the end of it?” He asks, leaning his head against the couch and looking at me. I feel the tips of my ears grow hot at his half-compliment.

“Lots of practice. And self-discipline.” He furrows his brows.

“Do you not like doing pilates?”

“I like the endorphins, but I mostly do it to look my best for the club. You’d be surprised how much of my paycheck goes to maintenance: waxing, hair care, the gym, makeup, outfits, and shoes. Yeah, I make a lot of money, but I’ve had to make myself valuable to get to that point.” He nods, and I can see him thinking really hard.

“Do you like dancing?” He finally asks.

“Nobody really ever asks me that,” I say, and pause, “I like the money. I like the attention, which I know sounds bad, but it feels good to feel desired. I like Tia, my friend I met because of dancing. But dancing as a whole? I’m not sure. There are a lot of pros, but there are also a lot of cons. Men who don’t understand boundaries, men who expect more than just a lap dance and pretty smile, men who think they own you. I don’t like that.” I watch his jaw clench at that. “I can take care of myself pretty well, but dancing can be very isolating. After all, who wants to date someone who literally takes her top off as a job?” I laugh a little, but it comes out short and harsh.

“Well, if someone doesn’t want to date you because of that, that’s their problem, and they’re wrong for not seeing you separate from your occupation.” He says and strokes his hand over Cujo’s head. Cujo lets out a heavy sigh and we both laugh at that, and it lightens the mood. There’s a sharp rap on the door and I get up and open it to see the delivery guy – it’s James, one of Tia’s regulars.

“James! How are you?”

“Good! Whoever bought you food tonight tipped me handsomely, so please thank your new boy toy for that.” He says, handing the food over. I peek my head around the door and Hotch just smiles and shrugs. I narrow my eyes at him but bid James a good night before shutting the door.

“How much did you tip him?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Mhmm,” I say and take the paper containers out of the plastic bag. It smells so good as I set the food on the coffee table and my mouth starts to water. “What did you order?”

“Shrimp Lo Mein.” He says, reaching forward and grabbing a container labeled with an “S” on it. I grab my container of orange chicken and open the vegetable fried rice.

“Do you want a plate for the fried rice?”

“I wouldn’t mind one if it’s not a bother.” I set my container down and walk to the kitchen, pulling down two mismatched plates.

“Do you need a fork or are you proficient in chopsticks?”

“I’m proficient in chopsticks.” He says, and I can hear the smile in his voice.

“Well, that makes one of us,” I say and walk back to the living room, handing him a plate. We divide up the fried rice and I settle back on the couch. We make small talk as we eat, but it’s not awkward. It feels like we’ve known each other forever. He asks me about being in school, and what I’m doing in my clinical, and I in turn ask him about his cases (which he claims he can’t tell me much about, but I know he’s taking some liberties with that as I do get more than a handful of details about his latest case). We finish our food and set our plates on the coffee table, and he says,

“Oh, that reminds me. My team has been asking about you since our run-in with them at the bar last week, and Morgan finally conceded and agreed to be their chauffeur for the club. They’re coming tomorrow night, just giving you a heads up.” He scratches the back of his neck, seemingly embarrassed.

“And will their Section Chief be in attendance as well?” I ask coyly and watch as the tips of his ears turn pink.

“Well, someone has to keep an eye on them.” He says but won’t look me in the eyes.

“That’s good to hear. And tomorrow is fantasy night at the club, so it’ll be a different setting than you’re used to, different clothes as well.”

“Isn’t everything about going to a strip club a ‘fantasy’?” He says, miming air quotes on the last word. I laugh.

“Yes, you’re correct, but this is like witches, elves, princesses, pirates, all of that sort. We started it a few months ago, and if I’m remembering correctly, you haven’t attended one.”

“Keeping an eye on me, are you?” The room suddenly feels stuffy.

“Just staying aware of my surroundings, especially of men who seem to stare at me.” I shoot back, grinning, and he holds his hands up in mock defeat.

“So, what’s your costume?”

“I usually go as an elven princess. I’ve got fake ears and everything.” He chuckles at that. “And I typically wear a white wig with bangs.”

“Sounds like quite the getup.”

“People love it, I make a lot of money on fantasy nights. My friend, Tia, the one you’ve seen, always goes as a mushroom fairy.”

“What the hell is a mushroom fairy?” He looks genuinely confused.

“You’ll see tomorrow,” I say with a laugh. We continue talking late into the night, and we jump from one topic to the next with ease. It’s nearing midnight when he suddenly grows serious and says,

“Tell me your deepest secret.” I blink a few times in surprise.

“Well, Mr. Hotchner, that’s a very serious question for a first, whatever-this-is,” I say jokingly, but I know he can tell I’m deflecting.

“I’m just curious. There’s a lot I don’t know about you. A lot I’d like to know about you. If you’ll let me learn.”

“And there’s a lot I’m sure you don’t want to know,” I mutter, and he just watches me. Finally, I concede with a sigh and whisper, “Sometimes I worry that I’m not a good person. That I’m there’s something twisted and evil inside of me, just waiting for the right opportunity to snap.”

“Snap and do what?” It’s a non-judgmental question and I’m grateful for it.

“I don’t know, but sometimes I’m afraid of the violence I feel inside of me.”

“I understand that.”

“You do?” I ask quickly, glancing at him.

“More than you know. Thank you for telling me that.” It’s quiet, and I don’t know what comes over me, but I blurt out the next sentence quickly.

“I killed a man once.” His hand stills from petting Cujo but resumes quickly. I can feel his eyes on me as I stare at my hands and pick at my cuticles. “A few weeks into working at the club, a man started to take a special interest in me. He started to request dances, and then private rooms where he would say horrible things and try to get me to do things that aren’t allowed. Then he started to threaten me when I told him no, saying he knew where I lived, and that he was going to kill me and my dog. I didn’t know what to do. I told my boss and she just made other girls dance for him, never really kicking him out or anything. After what happened, we now have tighter security, and my old boss was fired for negligence. I always rejected his advances, desperate to find someone else to service. One night, it was really late when I came home, and as I was unlocking my door, I was grabbed from behind and thrown to the ground. It was him. He pulled out a hunting knife and advanced toward me. I scrambled back and as he approached, I kicked him in the crotch, really hard. He dropped the knife, and in a mad scramble for it, he pinned me to the ground, hands around my throat, intent on choking the life out of me. I had almost lost consciousness when I felt the edge of the hunting knife. I was able to slide it towards me and grab it. Without thinking, I slit his throat and he bled out on top of me. The court dismissed it, due to the fact that it was self-defense.” I collect my thoughts for a few seconds, then add, “Sometimes, late at night, I think about that moment and the power that I felt. He thought he was the one to be afraid of, but it was me all along. That’s why I’m afraid of myself. I have no idea what I’m capable of.” I pause and look at him. I’ve never told anyone that story except for Tia. He has a very contemplative look on his face but doesn’t say anything. “I understand if you don’t want to continue whatever this is, anymore,” I say with a dry laugh and glance away. I feel his warm, calloused hand grab mine, and he squeezes it.

“Nothing you say could scare me away, Y/N. I’ve seen and killed evil people, and I can tell you, you aren’t one of them.” My throat closes up and he has a sincere look on his face when I finally look at him.

“Thank you,” I whisper, then clear my throat, “Now it’s your turn, what’s your deepest darkest secret?”

“Well, mine’s along the same line as yours. I killed the man who murdered my wife.”

I nod and rationalize it, “Well, he can’t hurt anyone else close to you if he’s dead. Good riddance, I say.” I throw in at the end, trying to lighten the mood, and he obliges me, tipping his head back in a laugh.

“Good riddance indeed.”

I don’t remember falling asleep, but I shift awake when I feel a blanket draped over me.

“Huh?” I mutter, blinking slowly. “Oh, hi, sorry, did I fall asleep?” I whisper to Hotch, who’s standing over me.

“Just for twenty minutes or so. I didn’t want to wake you, you looked so peaceful.”

“It’s okay,” I reply, smiling up at him. “I guess I’ll see you out? Thanks for hanging out with me.” I stretch my arms over my head and yawn. Cujo is passed out on the couch beside me, and he doesn’t wake as Hotch helps me up. I walk over to the door, unlock it, and lean against it. “Well, I’ll see you,” I check my phone, “Tonight, I guess.” I give him a sheepish smile.

“I’ll see you tonight.” He kisses my cheek and jogs down the stairs. I watch him leave, then lock the door. The food containers are gone from the coffee table, and the plates have been rinsed off and are sitting in the sink. I smile to myself as I open the fridge, and sure enough, my leftovers are sitting right on the middle shelf. I brush my teeth and fill up Cujo’s food bowl before getting into bed.

It’s well past 1:00 PM when I finally force myself to get out of bed. I sit on the edge for a few minutes and collect myself, remembering that Hotch was over last night. I can’t believe I told him that. He didn’t need to know that about you. I scold myself. He’s a federal agent, Y/N, he’s probably done much worse than what you did. There’s something about him that I can’t quite put my finger on. It’s like he only lets me see so much, but despite that, I can feel that dark thrum from him, it’s something dangerous, akin to the feeling I had about him during the first meeting. He’s hiding something, and I’m desperate to find out what he thinks I can’t handle. I sigh and rub my eyes, Cujo sprawled across my bed and breathing heavily. I finally shuffle to the kitchen and make a slice of toast with strawberry jam, eating it over the sink, not wanting to dirty a plate. My phone starts to ring, and I walk back to the room to grab it. This time I check the caller ID, and I’m a little disappointed to see it's only Tia.

“Hey bitch, what’s up?” I ask, wedging the phone in between my shoulder and ear as I dig through my closet to find my fantasy outfit. We only have fantasy night once a month, so I keep my outfit wedged in the back of my closet so as to not take up what little space I actually have in there.

“I came by your apartment last night to hang out, and can you imagine my surprise when I saw you and your man get out of matching cars and head up to your apartment? When were you gonna tell me about that?”

“It’s not like that! We were just hanging out and eating some dinner. Tia, he came to pilates with me!”

“I’m sorry, a man willingly went to pilates with you?”

“Yes!”

“Did he almost die?”

“You know it. It was so funny; I was holding in a laugh so hard.” Tia laughs at that. “I’m sorry for not telling you. It was kind of a spur-of-the-moment thing.”

“I’m just giving you a hard time. So did you fuck?” She asks the question so nonchalantly and I choke on air.

“TIA! NO, WE DIDN’T!” I exclaim. “Jesus.”

“What? I’m just curious.” I can hear the smile in her voice.

“He’s coming to the club tonight. With his whole team. He said they keep asking about me. Remember I ran into them a week ago at the bar?”

“Ah yes, after your man heroically saved you from that group of men.”

“Stop calling him that! He’s not my man! And I’m the one who threatened to beat the shit out of them, Hotch was my backup, remember?”

“Okay, Black Widow, whatever. He’s coming tonight? On fantasy night? That man is going to be on his knees for you.”

“You flatter me.” I snort.

“We’re seriously getting the whole Behavioral Analysis Unit in the club tonight?”

“Yes, but don’t tell them I told you about them. You already know about Derek, but I swear these people can read you like you’re an open book.”

“Noted. What did you and Hotch talk about?”

“Nothing really, just chatted.”

“Yeah, sure. And how long was he over at your apartment?” I go quiet at that. “That’s what I thought. All I’m saying is, get your bag, get your mans, and get the hell out. I don’t care how many people you have to step on to do it, me included. I’ve seen the way he watches you; he would do anything for you if you simply asked.”

“Tia, now you’re reading into things. Last time I checked, you’re not a profiler.”

“I’m a dancer. That’s just as good, you forget that we know how to read people too. Use it to your advantage.” I finally find my outfit in the back of the closet and pull it out, throwing it onto the bed.

“You’re talking like I’m going to war, not getting a boyfriend.”

“Well, hopefully, you’ll be getting a husband.”

“Tia! God! We’ve hung out once! We’re not getting married!”

“You say that now. I’ll ask again a few months from now and see where you’re standing.”

“I’m hanging up now. I’ll see you later.” I end the call and toss my phone onto the bed. I groan. Tia can be up to no good a lot of the time, but I don’t know what’s gotten into her lately. All she can talk about is how Hotch looks at me, and believe me, I’ve noticed that myself.

I busy myself with homework for the next few hours; I’ve got a big test next week and I really want to do well on it. I heat up the leftover Chinese food midafternoon and eat it, still studying. I take Cujo on a walk closer to 4:00 PM and then gather all my stuff to get ready at the club. I kiss Cujo on his nose before carrying my bag and outfit to the car. I drive to work, parking closer to the entrance than normal. I’m not taking any chances after being followed last week.

Tia’s already inside getting ready – her fantasy night looks are always extravagant and take a lot of time to put together, so she always shows up earlier than me. She’s halfway through her makeup when I sit down next to her and dig around for my makeup bag. I find my primer and get to work. I go with a dark eye with gold winged eyeliner, dramatic lashes, and black lipstick. Tia helps me get my wig on and secured, and then I put my fake elf ears on and slip into my dress. Tia buckles my shoes for me, and I glance at myself in the mirror and grin. I’ve always loved fantasy nights – a night where I can pretend to be someone else for a few hours. I look every bit like the dark-elven fantasy I’m trying to capture. I wait for Tia to finish her makeup and we chat; it only takes her fifteen more minutes and then I help her into her baby doll dress that she hand-painted to look like a red mushroom.

“There you go, my little mushroom fairy,” I say, patting her on the shoulders when I finish zipping up her dress. She does a little twirl for me, and I laugh. “Come on, let’s get out there and make some money.” We make our way into the club and it’s starting to fill up quickly. I don’t have any stage sets tonight, due to my dress being a little longer than usual. I fidget, nervously adjusting the gold caps on my cape as I survey the crowd. Tia’s already run off somewhere, so I’m alone.

“Look at you, baby girl!” I hear from my left and I let out a sigh of relief when I turn to see Morgan approaching me with a grin on his face.

“Morgan! It’s so good to see you. Hotch said you and the team would be here tonight.”

“Hanging out with Hotch, are you?” My cheeks grow hot at the insinuation. “Just messing with you. God knows Hotch needs some loosening up. Do you know how many times I had to ask him to come here with me? I asked for months. When he finally conceded, all it took was one look at you for him to ask me to come back with him.” My jaw drops a little bit. Morgan just winks at me, offering up his arm. “Want to come and talk to the team?”

“Lead the way, Agent Morgan,” I say, and he chuckles. We walk towards the back left corner of the club, and sure enough, the team is commandeering an entire table. Penelope shrieks when she sees me, jumping out of her seat and rushing over to grab me in a hug.

“You look like someone straight out of a fantasy game! You’re stunning! I’m literally obsessed with you.” She speaks quickly, smiling at me.

“Thank you,” I reply and give her a small smile. JJ and Emily echo her sentiments. I feel suddenly shy as I turn to Hotch. “Well, what do you think?” I say low enough so only he can hear as I approach him.

“You look like an evil queen. I like it.” My cheeks grow hot, and I glance down.

“I need to go make some money, I’ll be back though, I promise,” I say to the whole team. “Please, enjoy yourself!” And with that, I make my way into the dense crowd.

I’m true to my word. I’m back an hour later and eight hundred dollars richer. I take note of Hotch’s body language as I approach. He sits up straighter, eyes always following me. God damn it, Tia’s right, we are profilers…kind of. He looks me over like he’s assessing for damage, or he just wants to look his fill. I approach him, and lean down to whisper in his ear,

“Can I sit in your lap? There are not really any open chairs here.” I glance at him, and he nods, shifting so I can sit in his lap. I feel the whole team pause for a split second, then continue their conversation, trying really hard not to stare. It gives me the opportunity to whisper in his ear, “I’m feeling generous, so I won’t make you pay for this.” He lets out a loud laugh at that and the table grows quiet again before quickly picking back up.

“Thanks for sparing my wallet.” He murmurs in my ear, and I feel the hair on the back of my neck stand up. This is the closest we’ve been since that first meeting when I laid him out. I lean back and rest my back on his broad chest before joining in on the team’s conversation. They’re currently trying to figure out how many times Dr. Reid, whom I just met, is going to get propositioned. I laugh at this.

“How many times has it been so far?”

“Three!” Morgan exclaims, “Unbelievable!”

“Not really. You’d be surprised how many girls prefer nerdy guys over, hmm, muscle head men like you, Derek?” I say with a smirk, quirking an eyebrow at him. Emily laughs at this, and JJ even smiles into her drink.

“Aren’t you going to fawn over Dr. Reid as well, Y/N?” Hotch whispers in my ear. I twist my head back to look at him before simply saying,

“He’s not my type.” I wink at him, turning back around and the team busies themselves with not looking at us. At that moment, I see a man making his way towards us. “Oh, fuck, come on!” I groan. The team looks confused, so I elaborate quickly. “The man that’s approaching kept trying to get handsy with me earlier. His hand literally tried to go up my skirt.” I feel Hotch stiffen underneath me, a hand coming to rest on my hip.

“Hey, why’d you leave?” He says, coming up to the table, oblivious to the federal agents – one whose lap I was literally sitting in.

“I got bored. Please leave me alone, I’m with someone right now.” The man looks Hotch over, and I feel his grip tighten on me.

The man snorts. “Yeah, right. Why don’t you come with me, and I’ll show you what a real man is like.” Hotch’s anger is rolling off of him in waves.

“If you keep bothering me, I’m going to get security and have them kick you out. You already tried to grope me; they would love to kick you out just for that.”

“Fucking bitch.” The man says, lunging forward and grabbing my wrist, pulling me out of Hotch’s lap, but he isn’t too far behind, and as I trip over my shoe, he’s quick to catch me, his arm slinging low around my waist.

“Leave her alone or you’ll regret it.” His tone is dangerously low, and I know if I were to look into his eyes right now, they would only show the promise of violence, not the man who always laughs at my jokes.

“I’ll get a hold of you eventually, bitch.” The man spats, finally letting go of my wrist and he shoots Hotch and me a hateful glare as he retreats into the crowd. I massage my wrist, holding it close to my chest. Hotch turns me around, taking my wrist into his hand.

“Does it hurt?”

“A little bit. Doesn’t feel broken though, so I’ll be okay. It’ll probably just bruise.” His gaze darkens at that.

“Are you okay?” He asks quietly, eyes searching mine. I just nod and he takes a seat again, making room for me. I step over on shaky legs from the adrenaline and position myself in Hotch’s lap again. He starts absentmindedly tracing patterns onto my thigh, and my mind narrows down to the feeling of his hand on my leg. I know he’s just trying to calm me down after the confrontation, but I feel like I’m manually breathing as he continues, before quickly remembering who else is at this table. I calm my breathing, forcing myself to talk to them when talking to anyone but Hotch is the last thing I want to do right now. If he’s aware of the effect he has on me, he doesn’t show it.

Before I know it, an hour has passed, and I’m really enjoying talking to his team. They’re funny, and I find myself easily trusting them. I lean back to whisper to Hotch,

“I’m gonna go and make more money.”

“Will you be okay?”

“I think you know I’m more than capable.” He grins at that.

“Indeed, I do.” His hand retracts from my thigh, and I feel like I can breathe again. I slip out of his lap.

“Where you off to, baby girl?”

“To do my damn job, Morgan!” I shout over my shoulder and push my way back into the crowd.

I just finished giving a lap dance to one of my regulars when I feel strong fingers grab my shoulder. I turn around, seeing who has the audacity to touch me that rudely and I’m face to face with the man from earlier. I try to wriggle out of his grasp, but he’s got me backed into a corner. To anyone else, this would just look like a more intimate moment, no one would suspect anything.

“Get the fuck off of me!” I shout over the loud music.

“You made me look bad, little girl. Now, you’re gonna pay for it.” He raises his hand to strike me, and I’m pinned in the corner, with no room to move. I brace myself for the blow that never comes. I open my eyes and see that Hotch’s large hand has closed around the man’s wrist. He pulls, hard, and the man goes flying back and lands on his ass.

“I told you to leave her alone.” He growls, and many eyes are starting to watch us. Hotch starts to advance on the man, nothing kind left in his eyes. I rush up and grab his bicep.

“Hotch. Not here. This is not the time or place to make a scene.” I hiss. “I’m fine.” He won’t stop. “Hotch. Look at me, I’m fine.” I squeeze his arm, hard. The last thing we need in the club is an incident. He finally turns and looks at me. “I’m fine. Let’s just get security and have them kick him out, okay? I don’t need you getting kicked out too because you beat this man into a bloody pulp.” He just nods, jaw clenched tight, and I run to get security. They quickly kick the man out, telling him he’s no longer welcome in this establishment. He looks pissed, but not as pissed as Hotch, and frankly, he should be more afraid of Hotch than anyone else at this present moment. If looks could kill, that man would be dead in a heartbeat. When the man is firmly out the door, Hotch turns and grabs my face in his hands, searching it. “See? I told you, I’m fine. I thought for sure you were gonna shoot him.”

“I wanted to.” He finally grumbled. The first words he’s said to me since the altercation.

“You scared the shit out of me, Hotch. I thought you were going to murder him.” I say, looking up at him. And I can see it in his eyes – just how deep the darkness goes. Despite that, there’s not an ounce of fear in my body, as if my darkness acknowledges him and welcomes him in. What secrets are you hiding, Aaron Hotchner?

Finally satisfied that I’m okay, he grabs my hand and leads me back to the table.

“Morgan, are they still teaching that self-defense class this weekend?” He asks, his voice clipped.

“Hotch.”

“Yeah, 11:00 AM at the recreation field, why?”

“Y/N will be there.”

“Hotch,” I say again, yanking on his hand. “I can take care of myself.”

“And I would feel better if you attended the self-defense class.” He shoots back. Neither of us budges for a few seconds, just two stubborn people staring each other down before I sigh.

“Fine. I’ll do it.” Hotch nods, pleased. I narrow my eyes at him.

“Lover’s quarrel?” Morgan jabs and Hotch shoots him a glare so harsh that he holds his hands up in mock defeat. “Forget I asked,” he mutters.

“Keep an eye on her. I have some business to attend to.” He shoots me a look as if to not ask questions, and there’s a glint in his gaze, something hard and unyielding, and I just nod. I’m not sure if I want to know what he’s about to do, but the less I know the better. He turns and leaves.

“What the hell happened?” Emily asks, and I recount the incident to them and they all grimace. “Is this a common occurrence with your occupation?” She asks kindly, not judgmental at all.

“You’d be surprised, but things like this don’t happen all that often. There are a few outliers here and there, but people are respectful for the most part.” My mind flashes back to that night, and I push it quickly out. Now is not the time to be thinking about that. “They’re typically whipped into shape when they get threatened the first time.”

“And the more persistent ones?” I grin.

“They get kicked out. Sometimes I like to kick out the ones who are harassing me. It’s very emasculating to be talked down to by a woman and then kicked out on your ass. I enjoy it. But I only do it to the guys I deem as not dangerous.” JJ looks sick to her stomach and Dr. Reid looks appalled, but Morgan just grins.

“No wonder Hotch likes you; you have as much fire in your veins as he does.” I laugh and it lightens the mood. I talk with them for a few more minutes before saying, “I think I’m actually gonna call it a night, I’ve made enough. Thanks for coming you guys. I’d love to hang out with you all again.” The girls all give me a hug and bid me goodnight. I pass Tia on my way back to the locker room and she waves at me from someone’s lap. I wave back, grab my stuff, and walk to my car. I drive home, radio off, just spending some time in my own head. I park and head into my apartment, Cujo greeting me at the door like always. I fall into my routine quietly, eating a late-night snack as I undress, unpin my wig, and use a makeup wipe to get my makeup off. I take a long shower, needing to decompress after tonight. I’m out of the shower and in my pajamas when there’s a knock at my door. It’s 3:00 AM, and no one should be knocking on my door. I quickly grab my gun from the ottoman, holding it in my dominant hand. My peephole has been warped for ages now, distorting the image of whoever is outside of my door. I rip open the door, holding the gun up.

“JESUS HOTCH!” I shout, then realize he’s wounded. I click the safety on and toss the gun on my entryway table. “What the fuck? Get inside!” He walks inside, teeth grinding as he holds his hand to his arm. “What the hell happened to you?” I say, peeling his hand away from his arm quickly. His shirt is stained red. I swear again. “Sit on the couch. And don’t move.” I grab my clinical bag from the bedroom, dig around and find my gauze pads. “These aren’t the most sterile, but they’ll do.”

“That’s fine.” His words are short, leaning back on the couch. I chuck a bottle of ibuprofen at him, and he catches it easily, opens it, and swallows four pills dry.

“What the fuck, Hotch. Showing up on my door at three in the morning bleeding? Who does that? That’s what a hospital is for!” I’m rambling in my panic.

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“Take off your shirt, I need to assess the damage. His arm is stiff as he attempts to remove his dress shirt. “Do I need to cut your shirt off you, idiot?” I ask and he just sighs and nods. I grab my scissors from my bag and make quick work of his dark blue shirt. Thank god he has a t-shirt on underneath it. “You have to take your hand away from the wound for me to assess it,” I say quietly, gently pulling his bloody hand away. I let out a low whistle. “Serrated hunting knife?” I ask.

“How can you tell that?”

“The way the skin ripped, it’s obvious if you know what you’re looking at. I can stitch it, but it’s going to hurt like a bitch.”

“Do it.”

“Are you gonna tell me how this happened?”

“It’s better if you don’t know.” I pause my frantic digging through my bag and glance at him. He just looks back and I sigh, finally finding my suture kit.

“Do you need something to bite down on?” I ask drily and he lets out a small laugh at that.

“This isn’t the first time I’ve been stitched up on someone’s couch, and I doubt it’ll be the last. Go right ahead, sweetheart.”

“Oh, so now you want to pull out a pet name when I’m stitching you up on my couch? You really know how to get women.” I mutter, stepping in between his legs. I rip open an alcohol wipe. “This is going to sting. I’ll be quick.” I press the alcohol wipe to his skin, and he hisses, hands coming to grab the backs of my knees. “I know, I know, I’m sorry. I’m done.” I toss the alcohol wipe to the side. “Well, the bleeding has slowed, that’s good.” It’s only three inches long, but I’ve never done stitches on a real person before. “I’m really sorry if you end up with a scar after this. Are you sure you want me to do this? I’ll happily drive you to the hospital.” I’m stalling and he can tell.

“I trust you. The hospital will ask even more questions than you do.” He adds with a half-smile.

“Fair enough. If you need a break just tap my thigh. I’ll make it as quick as I can.” I unwrap the sterile needle and grab the needle driver. My hands shake but I take a deep breath and use the tissue forceps to expose the wound. It’s deep. I line up the edges of the wound and push the needle through his skin. His hands tighten on me, but he doesn’t tap out. I pull it until the thread is two to three inches long on the end, and tie three knots in the thread. I readjust the needle driver and push it through his skin again about a quarter inch down. I make quick work of the wound and he never asks for a break, just breathes deeply, in through his nose and out through his mouth. I tie off the last stitch. “I didn’t do a bad job, but it’s not spectacular.” I say, stepping out from between his legs. He twists his head to look at the mostly straight line of stitches I’ve left.

I grab the large Band-Aid I had pulled out earlier and unwrap it, gently placing it over his sutures. I then realize in my haste; I didn’t put on gloves. My hands are covered in his blood, staining them red.

“You, uh, don’t have any blood diseases I should know about, do you?”

“Nope, clean as a whistle.” I nod, retreating to the kitchen to wash my hands. I’m scrubbing them but some of the blood underneath my fingernails is stubborn. I try my best, then dry my hands with a paper towel. I walk back to the living room.

“Do I want to know what you did to him?”

“How did you?” I cut him off.

“I can read people too. You’re not as subtle as you think you are. At least, not when I’m involved.”

“He won’t hurt you again, I promise you that.” I decide to leave it at that, the man looks exhausted.

“Is your son with your sister-in-law tonight?” He nods.

“Come on, I’m not letting you leave until I know you’re okay.”

“Y/N, I’m fine. I can drive home.”

“If you’re making me take that damn self-defense class you can let me keep an eye on you for one night.” I snapped.

“Fine.” He narrows his eyes at me. “I’m not sure who’s the more stubborn one here.”

“And we’re not about to start a pissing match and find out.” I cross my arms. “Let me get you some clothes.”

“Y/N, you’ve done enough.”

“Shut up and accept my generosity,” I mutter and walk back to the bedroom pulling out a pair of lounge pants and large flannel left behind by a shitty ex-boyfriend. “Now, do you need help getting dressed?” I ask sweetly, trying to irritate him. He shoots me a look that tells me I’m already in enough trouble for making him spend the night. “Jesus, okay. Someone’s not in a good mood.”

I walk back into the bedroom to give him privacy to change. I give him a few minutes, petting Cujo as he lay in his dog bed.

“You decent?” I call quietly and get a muffled yes in return. I walk back out into the living room, and he looks so comical that I can’t keep a smile off my face. “Okay, come on, I’m not letting an injured man sleep on my couch.”

“Y/N, seriously, I’m fine.”

“I’m not in the mood to argue, Hotch. Get your ass in bed before I drag you, okay?” He sighs but follows me back to the bedroom. “I sleep on the left side.”

“Well, that’s good, because I sleep on the right side.” He gets into bed, grunting as he has to move his injured arm.

“You better not die in the middle of the night, or else I’m gonna beat your ass in the afterlife,” I mutter, pulling the covers over me. “Here I was thinking it would be an easy night, but, no, someone had to show up bloody on the nursing student’s doorstep.”

“I’m sorry. I understand if you’re mad at me.” He says quietly into the dark room. I sigh.

“I’m not mad at you, Hotch. You just scared me, okay?” I admit. In just two weeks this man has seemingly wormed his way into every inch of my brain.

“I’m sorry.”

“Just don’t do it again.” I pause, “Or at least give me a warning next time.”

“I’ll do that.” I hear his smile in the dark.

“Goodnight, Hotch.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.” I listen as his breathing deepens and he slips off into sleep. It’s a long time before I do the same.

chapter four - coming soon!

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