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monstersandmaw · 5 years ago

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Male ooze (Tokis) x reader (sfw) - Part Two

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

I’m putting this up a little early because I felt like it. It’s still been up on Patreon since last Monday. Anyway, I really hope you enjoy some soft morning fluff with non-verbal ooze Tokis.

The person who got the 1k word 'thank you story' for filling out the Patreon feedback form chose Tokis, Part Two, and I know a number of people have been excited about it, so here it is!

Contents: Fluff, teeth, general ooze, Sign Language (unspecified), non-verbal character, morning sweetness, mention of dentistry the previous day... Words: 1389

Part One

Waking with a heavy, solid weight on your chest, which also continued halfway down your body, was absolutely not a normal occurrence for you, and it took you a solid minute to blink yourself awake enough to work out what was going on. Memories of a sluggish and dazed Tokis, with his mouth all puffy and his hands tremulous and anxious at the dentist the previous day flooded back and you looked down at him as he lay now, fast asleep in your bed. On top of you.

The surprisingly warm ooze of Tokis’ utterly black body lay draped across your torso, completely without form.

During the night he’d lost his usual humanoid outline and had slithered out of the pyjamas you’d lent him as well. Wherever they were, they were nowhere in sight. A shaft of morning sunlight fell across one section of the ooze and you let yourself stare at it for a while; neither liquid nor solid, he was fascinatingly beautiful. You’d never seen Tokis quite like this before, despite having had sleepovers at each other’s houses since you were both pretty small. Sure, he’d slipped here and there, momentarily losing his preferred humanoid outline, but he’d never just… melted into a formless puddle. From what you knew of oozes and slimes like him, it was a sign of trust to exist in their simplest state, and it didn't get more trusting than this.

As you lay there beneath the gentle pressure of his body, you began to take stock of the way he had nudged himself against every contour of your chest and torso, firm and warm, yet malleable like very soft clay. It felt as though he were slowly trying to envelop you, folding and creeping across you like slow-flowing lava. You never wanted to move again, and you certainly didn’t want to wake him, but the temptation to touch him grew too much.

How many years had you ached for this? How many times when you'd gone to the park together and lain sprawled on the grass with your small group of friends had you wished to lay your head in his lap and feel him give softly beneath you, or have him spread his strange body out along yours and just luxuriate in the continuous contact?

As you replayed the way his hands had so vaguely and so tiredly shaped out the words ‘I love you’ the previous night, you let your own fingers sink against his smooth, gentle body and watched them disappear a little, as if he was subconsciously rising up to draw you down into him; like the tide answering the draw of the moon. He was particularly malleable like this, and you scooped up a handful of him as it rolled over your other hip and began to slide down onto the sheet like condensation on the outside of a glass. As ever, he was completely self-contained, the outer layer of his body protecting him from passively losing fluid, and as you cupped the weight of him in your hands, you worked it gently between your fingers and palm, as if it were a small ball of dough. He felt so right against you that it almost hurt.

At the touch, he seemed to stir, and his head began to reappear from the mass of self-contained ooze. He blinked his shiny, onyx eyes at you, and you smiled. “Hey.” Your voice was rough with sleep, and his gaze flickered momentarily to your mouth as you spoke.

Next second, his eyes crinkled a little at the edges into what you recognised as his smile. Your stomach flipped over at the sight of it and you stroked that stray part of him idly with your thumb. It was almost as if he’d stretched his arms across you to hug you.

Watching him reconstitute himself was interesting. He pulled back away from you, shyly withdrawing and elongating his body into its usual, if somewhat small, humanoid figure, and he signed something vaguely, his movements too drowsy for you to pick out clearly.

“Tok, my signing is good, but not that good,” you chuckled. “Give me a chance.”

Oddly enough, the first coherent thing he said to you was, “You really didn’t know I had a mouth until yesterday?”

At that, you laughed, shaking your head. “Nope. And all those gorgeous, pointed teeth too,” you added. “Does it hurt?””

“Feels a bit sore,” he admitted, the viscous ooze of his face shifting a bit around it before he began to open his mouth experimentally. His gaze kept darting up to your face, as though he constantly expected you to reel back from him in disgust. Slowly, those sharks’ teeth of his came into view, arranged in a double row above and below, an endearing little strand of slime still connecting his top and bottom lips in one place, and your heart leapt at the sight of him. Hesitantly, you brought your fingertip to his mouth and traced the edge of one of his teeth.

“You’re extraordinary,” you whispered.

Tokis melted again at that, completely losing his form and forming a large black puddle on the bed beside you. You had to laugh fondly; he’d always been shy, but this was just too adorable.

It took him a while to reform, and this time when he did, he was facing away from you. You ran your fingertips down his newly-formed shoulders, the black ooze gleaming like living glass beneath your touch. He shivered.

Continuing to touch him, you asked, “Tok, when you said you loved me yesterday… how did you mean it? Did you mean just as friends, or…”

He shook his head.

“More?”

Without turning to you, he nodded minutely.

You leaned forwards and hesitated, mere inches from his body. “Can I kiss you?” you asked, and received a second tiny nod, though he didn’t move. Leaving a chaste kiss on his shoulder, you stroked him once more and then you pressed yourself close to his warm body and hugged him.

With you as the big spoon, the two of you lay there for a lot longer, the morning dragging on late and neither of you wanting to break the strange, wonderful new spell that had woven itself between you since the previous day. It took him a while to move at all, but when he did, you felt the enticing ooze of his body sliding up around the fingers of the hand that was softly draped across his waist. He began to stroke and play with your hand, paying attention to your knuckles, apparently fascinated by the bones beneath. At that, you nuzzled the back of his neck and he melted a little bit, his touch slipping off your hand altogether as his hand disappeared back inside him.

“I love that I can make you do that,” you chuckled against his neck, and he vanished into his amorphous lump again, refusing to come out, no matter how much you scooped him up and cuddled him.

Eventually you lay back and sighed happily, with one arm still outstretched on his pillow. “You want some breakfast?” you eventually asked. He didn’t need to eat, but he did enjoy tea. He didn’t drink it through his mouth, but rather usually trailed one finger in it and absorbed it that way. You wondered if, now that you knew of his mouth, he’d actually drink it.

He shuffled, his familiar form rearing up out of the shapeless ooze beside you and immediately began to sign something to you. You missed the beginning, but caught the gist of the sentence. “And thank you for letting me sleep here in your bed too,” he added after expressing his bashful gratitude at your taking care of him the previous day.

“If you’d like, you’re welcome to sleep here any time, Tok,” you smile.

As he rolled over to face you properly, he pulled his slime back off his teeth and gave you the widest and most playful grin you could ever have imagined from him. It was glorious, all fangs and dripping ooze and your heart swooped in your chest at the sight of it.

“Take that as a yes,” you chuckled, and he surged forwards and swamped you in a huge hug, still grinning.

—

I really hope you folks enjoyed this one! Don’t forget to let me know if you did enjoy it by leaving a like and/or reblogging it!

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#ooze #exophilia #male monster #male monster x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #gn reader #slime #slime monster #ooze monster #sfw exophilia

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kdtheghostwriter · 4 years ago

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The Dust Up in Jaku

You sure are!

Okay, housekeeping first. I don’t often go here. In fact, this is my first proper visit. I’m caught up with the manga entirely to be clear. I just don’t always go looking for feedback. This blog is miscellaneous, tailored mostly to my whims at the time, but it’s known primarily for its monthly posts on Shingeki no Kyojin. That series is ending soon. These posts have been for practice primarily. A way for me to keep my writing chops warm for other projects. They’ve been incredibly helpful in that regard. I’m not sure yet what I’ll do to supplement that practice after the series conclusion. I don’t see myself doing monthly meta posts anymore. I started doing One Punch Man write ups a couple years ago and doing the occasional meta for big plot developments is probably the ticket. But then there’s BNHA.

My Hero Academia is a bit more…shall we say ‘aggressive’ in its storytelling. That’s what I’ve seen in this latest arc anyway. I’m a fan. And I figured, hey, I can dip a pinky toe in the fandom for a bit. So, before reading any further, please note that this will read as the perspective of a reader that has one eye on the story and doesn’t spend a great amount of time in the discourse.

Okay so let’s start with the obvious or what should be the obvious. Bakugo isn’t dead just yet. If for no other reason than Gran Torino getting spiked by Shigaraki only to supply a sassy quip moments later. You don’t die in a shonen series without permission. Besides that, though, no one I’ve seen seems to be asking the important question here.

What is All For One’s idea?

We saw him reach out to Tomura who was himself on the verge of death and took full control of his body. Those telltale black tendrils have seldom caused bodily harm on their own and there’s little evidence to believe they’d start now. We then can make one of two assumptions.

Quirk theft: AFO has the ability to steal and redistribute quirks and Shigaraki made clear that stealing One For All was his main goal in this fight outside of surviving. Bakugo is one of the few people who know about this secret war and he more than anyone there would recognize that losing OFA to Tomura would be in the nicest terms a disaster.

Forced Quirk Activation: Considering that Kacchan is a walking napalm bomb, this is another possible disaster. Using a massive explosion to escape the battlefield at this moment has some very “I’ll get you next time, Gadget!” energy.

And Tomura has to escape this. I’ll explain that later. But first I must laugh.

No, that’s not Garou after his first hour in the Monster Association. Tomura has been annihilated over the course of this fight. He’d probably be dead two or three times over if it weren’t for his fancy Deadpool Healing Factor which itself wouldn’t be working if Eraser Head wasn’t out of commission.

Shout-outs to Aizawa by the way. There’s a reason Tomura stopped in the middle of the battle to tell him how cool he was.

Anyway, more to the point: Shigaraki can’t beef it here. Don’t get me wrong, as tragic as his story is, there really is no other option currently than to destroy him. The only other course of action is to say, “Please, Tomura, don’t make this entire city and the innocent people living there disappear into dust.” Which…yea. On top of that, he’s the series antagonist and the clear foil for our hero Deku. Narratively it just wouldn’t make sense to have him climb that mountain before he’s ready. And he’s still not ready. His arms are thrashed yet again from his current onslaught.

For anyone having trouble visualizing this, imagine Shiggy as a red rubber ball and Deku is a paddle, smacking him repeatedly. I have this great picture in my head of the news chopper zoomed in on Deku as he calls out every state and major city in the contiguous United States. Jokes aside, the art is phenomenal. This panel in particular really hammers home the aforementioned duality like so many haymakers to the face. The damage is stacking up faster than his regeneration can supply but All For One has stepped in to take the reins, surely saving his neck but that isn’t the only reason Shiggy will see his way out of this spot.

Yeah! Remember him? This big fucker is still on his way. And he’s got the League of Villains in tow. Why is that detail important?

The only thing more important than a major plot event like this is the aftermath. You can easily develop your characters through the way they react to the events that occur to them. Somebody has to break it to Tomura that Twice is gone and I don’t envy the one who gets that job.

Also…lol okay, I don’t wanna do the trolly thing of “oooh Dabi’s a Todoroki!” but c’mon man Dabi’s a Todoroki. I’ve barely paid attention to this subplot and even I know that. Shonen series are by their nature very melodramatic and it would only make sense for such a massive bombshell to be dropped now, in the midst of life-or-death struggle, with direct implications for the Number One Hero and his children – one on each side of the law. Point is! None of that can happen if Shigaraki bites the big one so I’d expect the dusty lad to keep kicking for now.

The same goes for Bakugo, although, he may have early retirement in his future. The main reason Kacchan can’t die here is because, despite what you may think of him as a character – and I’ve seen enough discourse to know that many many people are not fans, such is your right – having a teenaged bully redeem himself by sacrificing his life is a bit much. Especially when you consider this little nugget.

All Might has him pegged here. I would never endorse someone telling another person to kill themselves even when done ironically but Katsuki was a child and children say any manner of dumb, reckless things. More than that, children lash out when they’re scared, and nothing scared him more than being surpassed by Midoriya. All Might goes on to point out that Bakugo earnestly helping with Izuku’s training is his way of atoning for his past behavior. I agree with that stance and I think it’s more than enough. He knows he was wrong and more recently he’s discovered that he knows he wants no harm to come to Deku. Bakugo learned a big lesson in this chapter; by extension, Deku must learn a lesson as well.

Then there’s this geek.

Disclaimer: I don’t hate Endeavor so much as I’m apathetic towards him. He’s the Number One hero by default and it shows throughout this arc. Even here, we see the rookie Kacchan barking orders at him and Shoto and coming up with a pretty solid plan to finally end this damn fight. It didn’t work, but that has more to do with outside interference than inexperience, and it’s not like Endeavor was rapt with ideas to begin with.

I will defend him slightly, however. Some people have gone so far as to call him useless in this fight and I wouldn’t. Shigaraki got a massive buff even if he’s only at 75% capacity. Enhanced speed and strength, plus a healing factor means he has a threshold that Endeavor just can’t overcome. The days of one guy taking on the Final Boss is long past gone. Even so, this must be pretty mortifying for a guy so obsessed with climbing the ladder. His second real test as the top hero and he gets his ass kicked for an hour or more by a shaggy kid who forgot his lip balm at home. LOL is what I’m saying.

Thanks for indulging that aside. Back to Deku. The very first panel of this chapter is a nurse warning him that repeated injuries could result in him losing the use of his arms. Naturally, this follows with Deku smashing Shigaraki in the face five or six times in a row. The combination of Float and Black Whip is keeping the villain suspended in the air where his disintegration quirk can’t reach the support team below. A fact that Deku points out when Bakugo shouts at him to disengage. This is a great bit of dramatic tension, because neither one is wrong. Izuku’s body is falling apart. I mean, Tomura’s is too, but Tomura can lowkey ignore that and if he reaches the ground, everyone is screwed anyway.

This plays into Bakugo forming the plan with the Todorokis in the first place and then intercepting AFO’s attack on behalf of the helpless Deku. He sees One For All as a cursed power, but he’s smart enough to know that this power is the only chance they have of winning. He then saves his friend to help them win.

Now we come to the bit that has me more interested than even Kacchan’s fate. That being Izuku’s reaction, both in the moment and after the battle is done. As previously noted, Deku is not in less danger now. He’s emptying the tank right here despite possible long-term damage to his body.

The implications of that statement are terrifying. More so coming from a teenaged boy that hasn’t even made it through a third of his life yet. The legacy of OFA is dark and bloody. It was Bakugo who pointed out that the previous holders of the super strength quirk all died young – all murdered at the hands of Tall, Dark and Faceless. Toshinori would have suffered the same fate if it weren’t for a time sensitive cocktail of rage, survival instinct and adrenaline. Deku is sipping from that same cocktail right now and he’s in better shape than All Might was (barely) but it’s clear that he cannot 1v1 a boss with a replenishing health bar. Perhaps if he could sustain an attack without his limbs exploding like Squidward after too many Krabby Patties? Oh well.

My Hero Academia is an origin story. The story of the hero Deku and his journey to number one. With that in mind, we know he can’t lose but he doesn’t necessarily have to win. Not here at the very least. I have no clue how this arc resolves itself but finding out is going to be much fun.

#bnha meta #bnha 285 #my hero acadamy #izuku mydoria #katsuki bakugo #tomura shigaraki #shoto todoroki #toshinori yagi #all might #endeavor #i whip my nemesis back and forth

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trickstump · 5 years ago

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homeroom angel

eddie kaspbrak/richie tozier rated e 5.5k

thank you to @eddiekissbrak for beta’ing and cheerleading me through this journey. migz, you’re a real one.

(read it HERE on AO3)

Richie’s not looking for it.

Of course Richie’s not fucking looking for it, though; to look for it, he’d have to have had any idea that it existed, and the idea of Eddie doing anything like this was beyond unfathomable. It was a whole other level of this could never happen that even Richie fantasies couldn’t have predicted it- and he’d had some pretty wild ones.

But. Here the fuck it was, skipping floors two through two hundred on the Wonkavtor and busting through the top of Richie’s head, staring back at him from the page of the magazine he’d picked up.

Eddie.

It’d been- there were so many fucking steps, really, to them even getting here in the first place. Richie had to have found this fucking magazine when he was in colleg- not this issue, god, not this issue; if Richie had picked up this fucking issue in college, he was sure his mind would’ve exploded. But, he had to pick up this magazine in the first place in college, furtive, snatching it off the rack at the drugstore and not bothering to pay because holy shit, he couldn’t stand the idea of looking the dude in the counter in the eye and paying for a porno magazine that shouted Boys! Boys! Boys!

So. He had to pick up this magazine, and then, in a drunken fit just after his first few paid shows, he had to buy a subscription to this magazine- fake name, correct address- meticulously updated every time he moved so that it could be delivered right to his door packaged in a discreet envelope, and occasionally shoved into the bottom of his suitcase while he was on the road, because he liked to have the company of Mr. January 2016 on cold nights in decent hotel rooms.

And, then, he had to be subscribed at just the right time, because he’d really been about to cancel his subscription entirely when the throwback issue came out. It was getting fucking dangerous, having his porn hand delivered to him like some kind of creepy old man, when Eddie had just moved in after trekking out to LA as a part of his post-Derry, post-divorce midlife crisis. There’d been an incident last month when Eddie’s found mail with the fake name that had lead to Richie having to sneak back out to the mailbox in the dead of night to do some recon before Eddie’s neat little “return to sender; does not live at this address” got his jerk-off material for the month taken away. It was the modern era; he should just make the jump and start going digital, anyway.

So. Petty theft, years of furtively waiting for his monthly fix of scantily clad men to arrive via the US Postal service, and someone somewhere’s visonary idea of “let’s just reuse some fucking old pictures this time; these dipshits’ll crank it to anything, I’m sure” culminated to this:

Eddie.

Not Eddie, now- obviously, not Eddie, now. That’d be fucking insane, and Richie would be losing more of his mind than he’d already lost. He’d just been flipping through the issue, admiring this and that, and- he’d almost skipped the pages on his first thumb-through, absentminded and half hard, free hand resting on his leg, when he saw the flash of a leg and flipped back.

And then, there was Eddie.

Younger- a few decades younger, the little white Times New Roman in the corner told him; Eddie, November 1999. November, Eddie’s birth month- happy fucking birthday to him. He only caught it the second time he looked at the picture, flipping the page and then flipping back to make sure his mind wasn’t just projecting the image of a younger Eddie onto the pages.

It wasn’t.

It was Eddie- his Eddie, flushed a little pink in the way he got when he was flustered, doe-eyeing the camera. His mouth was just as pink as his cheeks and hanging open just a bit, and Richie spent so much time looking at his face, he almost forgot to look at the rest of him- all of the rest of him, most of all of the rest of him, because thank god, this was not where he was seeing Eddie’s dick for the first time. Narrow avoidance, though, only because of the artful drapery of the fugly pink fur- rug? blanket?- monstrosity they had barely draped over the area, which let Richie see everything except his dick.

God. He couldn’t even fucking think about Eddie’s dick right now. Not that he let himself think about Eddie’s dick too much, anyway. He’d think about being in love with Eddie all day long, and maybe about the fucking phenomenal sex they could be having every so often, mostly when he was lonely on the road, because there was a weird line when it came to being in love with your childhood friend, and that line was drawn exactly on the other side of “jerking off thinking about him while he’s sharing an apartment with you.”

Speaking of, Richie’s dick went from being passively interested in the goings on to standing at attention like a goddamn car lot flag pole the second he had enough brain cells to process what he was seeing. He was achingly hard, now, and at the same time frozen in place, free hand now gripping his leg so hard he was going to leave a bruise. He couldn’t do anything but stare, heart racing like he was running a marathon.

It was the best thing he’d ever fucking seen, and he needed to stop seeing it.

“Hey, Richie?”

Eddie’s voice outside his door jumped him into action, and Richie dropped the magazine like it was burning him. “Uh- yeah?” His voice broke on ‘yeah’, and he really, really sounded like a kid whose mom was two seconds from walking in on him jerking it.

Eddie, for his part, didn’t seem to pick up on it- or, more likely, he was just fucking polite enough not to call him out. “You coming out so we can go eat or what, dude?”

Fuck. Richie had been so caught up in a past where Edward fucking Kaspbrak, world’s stuffiest man and love of his life, had posed for a gay porn magazine that he had forgotten about the present where said childhood sweetheart was expect him to get dinner. “Oh, for sure.” He’d managed to get control of his voice, because he was a goddamn professional. “Just give me a second, man, I’m not decent.”

“You’ve never been decent in your life,” Eddie huffed. “But, fine. Be out in, like, five minutes or I’m gonna eat without you.”

Richie waited until he heard Eddie’s footsteps disappear to exhale, and then it was just him and- well, him and Eddie again, still staring up at him from the centerfold with a look that Richie had barely ever even dared to imagine he could pull off.

Fuck.

He gave himself a few moments to breathe, eyes squeezed shut least the air he was just getting back into his lungs be stolen again, and he flipped the magazine closed before he opened them again. This was- definitely crossing the line he’d drawn for himself, and he should probably just throw the whole thing out before he jumped over the line and directly into something dangerous.

But.

But, he couldn’t bring himself to- for a lot of reasons, really, chief among them the fact that he knew having a missing issue in his back catalogue would drive him absolutely fucking insane, and totally, totally, not because he couldn’t imagine ever getting rid of the only proof he had of the divine fact that Eddie could have “fuck me” eyes. Totally.

So, instead of the trash can, or the back of his closet in a box where the rest of the issues went, Richie played into the full fantasy of being in college again and shoved the magazine under his mattress, resolving to deal with this later. The rest of his five minutes was spent trying to will his dick to sit back down by any means necessary- mostly by thinking about Eddie’s mom, which was an irony that Richie was too wired to appreciate in the moment.

Thank fucking god they weren’t going out or anything. Eddie had just picked up cooking in his quest for independence, and liked to show off whenever Richie was home, which Richie didn’t mind in the slightest. He’d survived the last several decades on his own on Hot Pockets and takeout whenever he was home, and room service or fast food when he wasn’t.

Eddie cooked, and Richie did the dishes. It was disgustingly domestic, and thinking about the concept rather than the action actually made Richie happy to do it, instead of mildly irritated. Love was a hell of a drug.

He couldn’t really focus on the food tonight, though, because every time he looked up across the table- because Eddie made them eat at the table, like what the fuck was that?- he was faced with Eddie, who hadn’t changed enough in twenty years for Richie to be able to not see flashes of his pink lips and flushed cheeks every time he saw him.

It was like being haunted by a sexy, sexy ghost.

“And I- Jesus, dude, are you even listening to me?” Richie blinked when Eddie waved a hand in front of his face. “Earth to Richie; you look like an idiot, man. What’s up with you, is there something on my face?”

“Uh,” Richie said, trying to say anything but ‘hey, you used to be, like. Hot, in college or whatever’, but obviously not reacting fast enough for Eddie’s tastes.

“I already got the fucking mole checked, it isn’t cancer,” he said, and that was Richie’s Eddie, vision snapping back into focus.

“I’m not staring at your fucking mole, dude,” Richie said, rolling his eyes. “Also, aren’t they only like… cancerous if they have hair in them, or something?”

“No,” Eddie said, and sucked in a breath, and that launched them into a conversation- well. A tirade from Eddie with color commentary from Richie, really, and that was more like their normal dinner conversations, enough that Richie could phase out his lust for past Eddie and focus on the warm fuzzies that having this Eddie in his life gave him.

Dinner and dishes done and conversation still rolling, though they’d cycled past about twenty different topics now, they moved on to the post dinner ritual of turning on the TV and not-watching Wheel of Fortune in favor of not-cuddling on the same couch, even though there was definitely a perfectly fine recliner in the room. This was the kind of thing that made Richie think that maybe, just maybe he had a chance in hell in all this- but, fuck if he was going to make the first move, so he just sat there with his arm flung over the back of the couch, hand dangling just so it brushed Eddie’s shoulder, and pretended he gave a shit about whatever Pat Sajak was saying, and wasn’t just watching Eddie.

Because Eddie was double his age at heart, Wheel of Fortune faded into Jeopardy, and when Jeopardy faded into whatever the fuck came after, right on cue, Eddie yawned. “I’m going to bed,” he said, and Richie nodded.

“I’ll probably turn in, too,” he said, and they both just sat there for a few seconds after Richie turned off the TV, something- something- lingering between them. This part, too, was part of the norm; there was something one of them wanted to say, needed to do, but Richie was too chicken shit to be the one to do it, and Eddie was- well, Richie wasn’t sure what Eddie was, scared, nervous, too freshly out of an intensely shitty relationship, but what it boiled down to was Eddie yawning in again, breaking the moment, and saying “g’night, Richie,” as he got up, and went to his room.

Normally, Richie’d just sit there for a few moments and stew in the moment he let pass again, but tonight, he only had to sit there for a second before he remembered what he’d been trying to get out of his head since dinner.

He felt like a burglar in his own home, tiptoeing back to his room and closing the door. He thought about keeping the light off, for a second, but flipped it on at the last second. If he was going to be crossing the fucking line like this, he may as well be able to fucking see it in its full glory.

He settled onto the bed and pulled the magazine out from under his mattress in one smooth move, flipping it open to the page without having to search, like the universe knew exactly what kind of self destruction he was looking to do. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, and when he looked down on the exhale, Eddie was staring back at him, legs splayed and back arched artfully, like he’d just been waiting for him this whole time.

“Hey there,” Richie said to an empty fucking room, and too much brainpower had already switched to dick power for him to be embarrassed about it. It didn’t take too long for him to get fully hard again- because it was fucking Eddie, of course it didn’t, and Richie wasn’t in the business of teasing himself when it came to jerking off, so he inelegantly wriggled out of his sweatpants and boxers, kicking them to the bottom of the bed.

It was a little awkward, balancing the magazine in one hand while he had the other on his dick, but Richie was a pro at it, at this point. Normally, though, he’d only look at the magazine for a bit before he let it fall aside, letting his mind do the rest of the work. Tonight, he couldn’t make himself put it down, though, because putting it down would mean he wouldn’t see how fucking right Eddie looked, laying back on that stupid, ugly pink fur, arms draped above his head and legs spread wide.

“Fuck.” He didn’t say it very loud, but Richie felt like he could hear it echo through the empty room. This was going to be the shortest fucking jerk off session he’d had in maybe his entire life, but, that should really be expected, considering the circumstances, and-

“Hey, Richie, do you think I should get this mole checked again, because I really-”

The world stopped.

Eddie- real Eddie, now Eddie- was standing in the doorway. Fuck, normally, he’d knock, but Richie guessed the mole thing was really fucking bothering him, because he’s just slammed it open and given Richie no time to react. They both froze, when they locked eyes, and Eddie realized what was going on, and his face skipped right past the pretty pink Richie’d just been looking at to bright fucking red. “Oh. You’re- busy.”

“Yeah.” Richie’s hand had not moved from his dick, nor had he moved to put the magazine down, or cover himself up, or anything a normal fucking person would do. Instead, his gaze flicked from Eddie, down the magazine, and back. “I, uh- sorry.”

“Oh my fucking god,” Eddie said, and Richie felt his heart jump into his throat for a second as Eddie started moving towards him, and- laughing? “Dude, is that a fucking magazine? What is it, the fucking sixties?”

“Fuck you!” Richie was finally moving, now, but it was mostly to jerk the magazine out of Eddie’s reach when he reached for it. Eddie didn’t seem to care that his fucking dick was out, so Richie was gonna ignore it for the time being, and hope it went away. “It’s artful, man.”

“You’re such a grandpa,” Eddie snorted, managing to snatch the magazine away from Richie and dance just out of reach before he could snatch it back, flipping through the pages. “Is this fucking vintage magazine porn? Richie, you’ve got to be fucking kidding m-”

The last part of the sentence died on Eddie’s tongue as he reached the centerfold, and he went pale as a ghost. “I, uh-”

“You looked, like... Really fucking good.” That was the wrong thing to say, the stupidest thing Richie could’ve possibly said, but he spoke before he thought.

“It- college, man.” Eddie didn’t seem like he was entirely in himself as he spoke, still staring down at the page. “I… I wanted to feel hot. So.”

Eddie’s voice was so fucking small when he said it, it made Richie’s chest ache. “Wanted to feel hot?” he asked, sitting up a bit. “Dude. Eds, you are hot.”

“I mean, I used to look pretty good- I worked out and shit.” Eddie shrugged, finally putting the magazine down, setting it on Richie’s bedside table.

“I didn’t say ‘used to’,” Richie said, using his single ounce of courage for the rest of the year. “I said you are hot.”

“Present tense?” Eddie’s gaze snapped from the carpet to Richie’s face, brow furrowed, seemingly searching it for... something. Richie wasn’t sure if he found it or not. “You think so?”

“I’ve always thought so,” he said, because he had, and if he was being honest, he may as well go the whole way with it. Fuck the line.

“Fuck, Richie.” The two words left Eddie’s mouth in one gust of breath, and before Richie could add anything onto his confession, Eddie had surged forward, and kissed him, hands on either side of Richie’s face, holding him like he was something precious . It was honestly a very sweet kiss, for how inelegant it was, and the fact that Richie’s dick was still out, several decades worth of longing and things unsaid pushed from both sides.

When they pulled away, they were breathless, and Eddie’s forehead was resting against Richie’s. “You were really gonna sit here and jerk off to my fucking picture while I was a room away, huh?” he teased, and even if Richie knew it for what it was, guilt wormed its way into the pit of his stomach.

“The fuck else was I supposed to do?” he shot back. “Knock on your door and go, ‘hey, Spaghetti-O, I know you’re in the process of doing your old lady skin care routine so that you can pass out by ten like some kind of retiree, but I need you to know that I found your ancient nudes, and they dredged up every fantasy I’ve ever had about you and then some. Thoughts?’”

“Yes,” Eddie said, and then, “You’ve had a lot of fantasies about me?”

“You’re the only person I’ve ever fantasized about,” Richie said, and he hated how fucking honest he was being about that. “Even when I didn’t know it was you, it was always- the shape of you, the flash.”

“You’re not allowed to be that romantic when your fucking hard on is digging into my hip, man,” Eddie huffed, and then he kissed Richie again. This time, there was nothing sweet about it, all heat, biting and sucking, and when Eddie pulled away to kiss down Richie’s neck, there was nothing he could do but bite back a moan. “And, yeah, you should’ve fucking come to me. You don’t need the fucking magazine when you have the real thing.”

“Have I got it?” Richie asked, and he wasn’t even sure what he was asking, but Eddie stopped pawing at his shirt for a second to give him the answer that he needed, anyway.

“Richie,” he said, deadly serious and flushed the same shade of pink he’d been in the picture, now. “You’ve always had me. Now, take your fucking shirt off.”

Richie didn’t have to be told twice, and by the time he got the rest of the way undressed and retrieved his glasses from where he’d flung them across the bed in the process, he was treated to Eddie having done the same, stepping out of his sleep pants, silky, stupid, monogramed button down hanging off his shoulders. “God.” He couldn’t help the outburst, and it made Eddie look over to him with a smile- no, a fucking smirk, crawling back onto the bed like some kind of stupid sex kitten from an eighties porno and letting the shirt drop to the floor in the same move.

“Like what you see?”

“You already know I do, asshole,” Richie said, rolling his eyes at the line and running his hands down Eddie’s sides and back up again in the same motion. “You’re fucking hot, Eddie.”

“I like hearing you say it,” Eddie said, surging to kiss him again. He’d settled on Richie’s lap, sort of, straddling his hips, and it was fucking rewarding to feel that he was just as turned on as Richie was, even if Richie couldn’t bring himself to look down at his dick yet. That was a shade too far; he wasn’t sure he’d be able to recover.

“You’re fucking hot,” he said again, sort of mumbled into Eddie’s shoulder as he pressed a kiss there, and started working his way down. “I’ll keep saying it, then.”

“You’re- shit, Richie, we’re not fucking kids, you can’t just go giving me hickies all ove- oh, you’re probably the only person I’ve heard it from in, like- a decade,” Eddie’s head was tipped back, eyes fluttering shut, and it was such a pretty scene Richie almost didn’t process what he’d heard.

“No one’s told you you were hot in ten fucking years?” It sounded so impossible to Richie; who the fuck could miss all this, even with the not at all provocative polos and button downs Eddie usually wore- or. Well, Richie found them provocative, but he found everything about Eddie appealing in one way or another.

“I- fuck- was married,” Eddie said. “And we weren’t, like… that kinda couple.”

“Her loss,” Richie said. “My gain. You’re so fucking hot.”

“Your gain,” Eddie echoed, and he was smiling, so fucking gentle that Richie forgot how to breathe, and also the fact that he was supposed to be ravishing him. “Do you, uh. Wanna fuck me?”

Richie’s brain stopped working. “Do I want to fuck you? Eddie. Eddie, I think if I don’t fuck you, I’ll die.”

“You won’t die,” Eddie huffed, even though Richie wanted to protest when he removed himself from his lap. “Do you have, like. Lube and shit?”

“First drawer on the left.” Richie made a vague gesture towards his dresser, and readjusted to give Eddie more room on the bed when he came back.

“I haven’t fucking done this in years,” Eddie when he found what he was looking for, tossing the bottle at Richie. “So, you’re gonna have to, like. Be patient.”

“I’m so patient,” Richie said, fumbling to catch it and then fucking up his first few attempts at getting the cap open in his haste, undercutting his whole statement. “I’m like fucking Buddha, man. Did you- want to grab a condom?”

“I checked, yours are expired,” Eddie said, settling back onto the bed. “Which tells me, like, how little sex you’ve been having. We can, like… make a run, if you really want one? But- I’m clean, and I… if you are, then.”

“I am,” Richie said, maybe a bit too quickly, because the idea of raw dogging Eddie was the closest he’d had to a religious epiphany in his whole life. “I- am.”

“Good,” Eddie said, the word coming out like a sigh as Richie repositioned himself once more, looming over him to steal a kiss. “Then, do you wanna do this part, or should I?”

“Can I?” Richie was getting gift after gift tonight, feeling like Christmas goddamn Day when Eddie nodded. He shifted down again, getting probably too sloppy with the lube as he coated his fingers. Whatever, he’d change his sheets later.

He couldn’t take his eyes off of Eddie’s face as he pushed his first finger in- slow, so fucking slow, because he was being patient, and gentle. The pink was back in his cheeks, and his eyes were half lidded, eyelashes fluttering every time Richie’s finger moved, small noises Richie wasn’t even sure he knew he was making falling from his lips. “Fuck, Richie.”

“You good?” Richie was breathless- he’d been breathless a lot in this; maybe he should ask if Eddie had any of his old inhalers lying around.

“Am I good?” Eddie almost sounded like he was going to laugh, but Richie must’ve hit something good before he could, because the noise turned into a drawn out moan. “Jesus, Richie. Another- another, and harder, and fucking do that again.”

“You’re so bossy,” Richie snorted, but he did what he was told because he kinda liked that Eddie was bossy.

Two more fingers and several minutes later, Eddie’s eyes looked like they had almost rolled back in his head, and he was tugging Richie’s hair. “Okay, you’ve- you’ve gotta fuck me now, or I think I’m gonna lose it.”

“Losing it is the point,” Richie said, even as he drew his fingers back. The whimper Eddie let out when he did was intoxicating.

“Not before I’ve had your dick in me,” he countered. “I’ve waited way too fucking long for this, and I’m not gonna be waiting until I get it up again because I came like a fucking college kid before we got the main event.”

“Then here comes the show, baby,” Richie said, shifting once again. He had to manhandle Eddie a little bit so that they were both positioned properly, handing him a pillow to put under his hips because neither of them were fucking twenty somethings anymore, and he was realistic about the level of crazy they could be getting here.

Eddie rolled his eyes as he readjusted himself. “Don’t call your dick ‘the show,’” he said. “Even if it’s- Jesus, Richie, where do you even fucking put that thing?”

“I’ve never exaggerated a big dick joke in my life,” Richie said, a little smug because fuck yeah, finally, some respect.

“I guess not,” Eddie said. “But, having a big dick doesn’t mean you know how to fucking use it.”

Richie’s eyes narrowed. “That a challenge, Eds?”

“Just an observation,” Eddie shot back, laying back on the bed and looking up at Richie with a smile that was definitely a challenge. “Prove me wrong.”

Richie took that as his cue to do exactly that, lining up and pushing in- just a bit, at first, small thrusts of his hip before Eddie kicked- literally, fucking kicked, the asshole- him into action. “We just spent twenty fucking minutes working me up to this, Richie,” he said. “Fuck me like you mean it, now.”

“I’m trying to be a gentleman, so you can sit pretty in your desk chair tomorrow,” Richie said.

“You can be a gentleman next time,” Eddie said- and, holy shit, next time. “This time- fuck me like you mean it.”

Richie didn’t have to be told twice. He was really, really considering maybe starting going to church again, with all the religious experience he was having this night, but he could mull that thought after he finished processing how fucking good Eddie looked, gripping Richie’s sheets as he rocked into him, slow at first and then building. “Jesus Christ, you’re fucking phenomenal.”

“Stop using words with more than three syllables,” Eddie said, eyes fluttering shut and then open again, locking with Richie’s and not moving. “Your dick is turning off my brain.”

“Phenomenal,” Richie said. “Effervescent. Show stopping, beautiful, an absolute fucking knock-out-”

“Shut up,” Eddie moaned, tugging Richie down and kissing him. “You’re already fucking me, you don’t have to flatter me.”

“It’s not flattery if you’re fucking everything,” Richie said, and that got Eddie’s eyes to widen.

“Everything?” he asked, and his voice was way, way too gentle for the moment. It seemed like an important question, for being only one word.

“Everything,” he echoed, sure, more sure than he’d ever been about anything in his life. “Always been, Eds.”

“You can’t just say that shit, Richie,” Eddie said, but he kissed Richie again, and when he pulled away, added: “Say it again, anyway.”

“You’re everything,” Richie repeated, and it became a mantra. “You’re everything, Eds,” like he was trying to burrow the idea so deep in Eddie’s mind he’d never fucking doubt it again, for better or for worse. They were fucking clinging to each other, now, and Richie wasn’t sure when this had turned from fucking to romance novel love making, but he wasn’t about to stop it. There was no way he could detach his feelings from this, if any of the shit he’d been saying didn’t make that obvious on its own.

It only took a few more minutes of everything, you’re fucking everything, you’ve always been everything for Eddie to tighten around Richie, whole body curling like a spring when he came between them. “Richie, Richie, holy fucking shit-”

“I’ve got you,” Richie said, sounding wrecked, because he was fucking close, too- he’d been close before Eddie’d come in, it was a wonder he hadn’t already blown it like a virgin- and he needed Eddie to know it. “I got you, I got you.”

“Richie.” Eddie sounded just as wrecked, and it just took one look at his face- pink lips, pink cheeks, doe eyes blown wide under his lashes- to push him over the edge, coming with Eddie’s name on his lips.

“Fuck.” His arms gave out, as he came down, and he flopped on top of Eddie. “Fuck, I think I’m dying.”

“Don’t die with your dick still in me, idiot,” Eddie huffed, nudging him until he shifted and hissing as Richie pulled out. “God, I forgot this part.”

“The afterglow?” Richie flopped on the other side of the bed now, and was pleased when Eddie shifted and followed, tucking himself against Richie’s side.

“The part where I need to fucking shower,” Eddie said, making no move to get up.

“Do it later,” Richie said. “I’ll hop in with you, save water.”

“If you hop in with me, neither of us are getting clean,” Eddie snorted, and god, if Richie hadn’t just came, that would’ve done some shit to him.

“All the more reason,” he said, tucking Eddie a bit more securely into his side and dropping a kiss to the top of his head, getting a little bold.

“Did you mean all that stuff?” Eddie asked after a beat of silence. “About-”

“You’re everything,” Richie said, and he could feel Eddie’s breth hitching without even looking at him, because he wasn’t brave enough to do that right now. “Always been. It’s… yeah.”

“Always?” Eddie sounded like he couldn’t believe it, which was stupid, because of course it was true.

“Which part of that did you miss, Eds?” Richie asked. “The part earlier where I told you you were the only guy I’d ever fantasized about, or the way I used to follow you around like a puppy when we were kids, or-”

“Shut up,” Eddie said. “It’s- you were my everything, Richie, so please, give me a damn minute to adjust to the reality that I haven’t been stupid for thinking that maybe you felt a little the same the whole time.”

“Take a minute, then,” Richie said, because, oh, he didn’t know what to do with that, so he probably needed a minute, too. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Neither am I,” Eddie said, and that made Richie relax a little bit. “I’m staying here, tonight, by the way. I’m not sure my legs work.”

“That good?” Richie hummed, smug, and Eddie didn’t answer, but the kiss he pressed to Richie’s shoulder did for him. “Told you, I’m fucking good.”

“One time doesn't count,” Eddie said. “You’re gonna have to give a repeat performance.”

“Oh, I’m gonna,” Richie said. “A few- later. Probably not tonight.”

“Probably not tonight,” Eddie agreed. “But- soon.”

“I’ll fuck you every night I’m home if you let me, Eds,” Richie said, and sounded a lot more lovesick than he intended.

“You’re taking me to dinner, first,” Eddie said. “Nice dinner, that I’m not cooking.”

“Deal,” Richie said. “It’s a date.”

“A date.” He turned to look at Eddie, then, and he was grinning like Richie had just done something amazing. “Good.”

Richie had to kiss him for that. “I’m getting that picture framed, by the way,” he said as they both tucked in for the night. “We can hang it in the living room.”

“We have people over, Richie,” Eddie said. “You’re not putting my nudes in the fucking living room.”

“They’re tasteful!” Richie protested. “And, like. That wasn’t a no on the framing.”

“It’s a good picture,” Eddie said. “But, not in the living room.”

“My office it is, then,” Richie said. “I’ll hang it right behind me, so when I do Skype interviews, it’s there.”

“You’re the absolute worst,” Eddie groaned, but he kissed Richie again, so Richie decided he was gonna take that as ‘maybe.’

#reddie #jack's shit #jack writes #please clap i wrote this in 6 hours

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anotheronechicagobog · 5 years ago

Note

Hey! Please can you do one with Severide where you are staying at his place for a while and he has someone over but it goes wrong when he realises it’s you he wants?! Thank you so much!! With cute fluff and angst please🥰

Just In Time by @anotheronechicagobog

@harryskittenxox I ended up deviating from your request a bit, so I’m hoping that you still like it.

AN: My computer won’t be fixed for another week and a half. I was able to finish this request because a lot of it was on cloud. I’m not very good at using the mobile version of tumblr so the Severide x reader request with a gif that I responded to? Not the finished product, I didn’t mean to post it, but I’ll deal with that later. When I get my laptop back I’ll probably post a ton of fic and then disappear for a while because university will be starting up again. Anyway, requests are still open and I’ll probably write the ones I get sent on paper and then post them with everything else when I get my laptop back. I hope you all enjoy, this one took me a while!

*I do not own Chicago fire, Med, and/or PD*

Warnings: swearing, mature themes, angst

Renee was back, and with her, more drama. She returned from Madrid pregnant, claiming that the baby belongs to one Kelly Severide. Your... Lover? Fuck buddy? Friend with benefits? You two hadn’t quite labelled what you two were, but it worked well enough, all things considered, one of those things being that you were in love with him. Everything was going well for you, you’d just been promoted to detective, the art you’d do in your spare time was starting to sell pretty well, and your crush on Kelly had kind of been recognized. You’d returned to your apartment to see Leslie on your white couch with the TV on and a deep-dish pizza on your coffee table accompanied by tequila. “Hey Shay, not that I’m not happy to see that the spare key I gave you works, but what are you doing here?”

“Renee’s back from Spain, heavily pregnant, and claims that the father is Kelly. I had a feeling you’d need grease and booze.” Now Kelly ignoring your calls and texts for the past three weeks made sense. After unfreezing you nodded enthusiastically. You started with the pizza, you didn’t want to dig into the alcohol just yet. “I don’t think the baby’s his. The timeline just doesn’t add up. I know that I’ve never really liked her, that shit she pulled trying to guilt him into moving to Spain after she’d found someone to fix his spine, but damn, something is really off about her and the entire situation this time.”

“What do you think is going to happen to my and Kelly’s... whatever it is we’re doing?” Leslie sighed and gave you a sympathetic look. “I don’t know Y/N. You should’ve seen him though, he’s so excited to be a dad. I want him to know what I think is going on but... It’ll hurt him so much. The only thing that would stop him from dropping everything and going to Renee’s side would be if you were pregnant.” You both laughed. Leslie cracked the seal on the tequila, while your laughter slowly died and a look of horror plastered itself across your face. Something Leslie noticed and cut her own laughter short. “Y/N?”

“My period’s never been regular, it just generally comes once a month, it’s short but heavy and painful. I just realized with all that's been going on, my art, the police station, I had been so busy, I hadn’t... I just realized the last time I had my period was the days before and of the firehouse barbeque.” Panic was flooding my stomach and the glass of tequila Shay had given me suddenly became the most offensive object I’d ever seen and practically threw it on the table. “Y/N,” complete seriousness had invaded Leslie’s voice, “that was four months ago.”

You both were in full-on freak out mode. Leslie grabbed your first-aid kit and went over symptoms of pregnancy asking if you’d been experiencing them at all (the answer had been yes to all of them) while checking your vitals and such. You both popped down to the pharmacy a block away from your apartment to buy ten pregnancy tests, all different brands. “You know, you probably don’t need this many-”

“Leslie, just, let me do this, okay?” She nodded in silence. One gallon of water, three minutes, and ten positive pregnancy tests later you were crying into Leslie’s shoulder. You felt sick, terrified, and alone. What were you going to do? Kelly was off with Renee somewhere playing happy families. You couldn’t even be mad about it because unlike you, Kelly actually dated her. When your tears had finally halted Leslie went to order more food you finally changed out of your work clothes into leggings and an oversized CPD sweater. “Why is that sweater so big?”

“It’s a co-worker’s. He gave it to me when he spilled coffee all over my shirt at work. I just never gave it back because he intentionally spilled a scorching beverage on me as a pickup line.” Leslie belt out a laugh at that. “So Y/N, when are you going to tell Kelly?”

“Please don’t hate me for this, but I don’t think I’m going to tell him at all, at least not anytime soon. He’s been ignoring me for weeks, spending all his time with Renee, who he didn’t even have the decency to me was back, let alone that she’s pregnant, and I think telling him now would be in poor taste. Regardless of whether or not the baby actually turns out to be his I think telling him now would just be mean. Plus, right now I have to deal with going to the doctor’s and how I’ll handle this at work.”

“I can’t say I agree with the whole not telling Kelly thing but I do understand it. I promise that I won’t tell him.”

“Thank you, Leslie.”

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

You ran into Renee at the doctor’s office two days later. “Congratulations Ms. Y/L/N! You are eighteen weeks pregnant. I must say, it’s usually discovered quicker. May I ask why it took you so long to come in?”

“I was busy at work and was too distracted to notice that I hadn’t gotten my monthly torturer in a while, my morning sickness hadn’t been bad or at least nothing I couldn’t explain, and I spoke with my mom, she told me that the women in my family don’t show until later in pregnancy.”

“Oh, alright, that explains everything. Just so you know the gel will be cold.” Seeing your baby and hearing their heartbeat was something you couldn’t even describe. The emotions you were feeling were awe-inspiring. “Would you like a picture?”

“Would it be possible to get three?”

“Sure thing. Now, let’s talk about your personal health and some things I’ll be prescribing you.”

You were leaving the OB’s office looking at the pamphlets you’d been given when you bumped into someone. “Oh! I’m so sorry, I should have been looking where I was going!”

“Oh, don’t worry about it Y/N.”

“Renee? What a surprise...”

“Kelly, look who’s here!”

“Y/N?”

“Hi Kelly. Well it was great running into you two but-”

“You’re pregnant?” You sighed and tucked the pamphlets and photo into your bag. “Yeah, Kelly, I am.”

“Who’s the father?”

“Y/N, I’m curious about that as well, as far as I was aware, you haven’t been seeing anyone.” Renee had a look of smug curiosity on her face. “Why would you be aware of my love life Renee, we’ve never been good enough friends to have a conversation like that, so... Kelly told you. You told her.”

“You have to understand Y/N I’ve-”

“Save it. I don’t want to hear it. I am going to leave now, I hope everything goes well at your appointment and that you have a nice day.” You bolted out of the room holding back tears before either of them could say anything. You knew you’d have to see them together, you’d prepared yourself for the pain, you just didn’t think you'd have to feel it right on the heels of feeling the connection you had with your unborn child. And the looks Renee was giving you, as if you’d been knocked up in a scandalous affair or something, not only stung but rubbed you the wrong way. Leslie’s right, there’s definitely something more going on. You, however, had a mini person to take care of, and no time to investigate. You’d leave that to Shay.

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

Your new boss Sgt. Hank Voight had been surprisingly understanding and supportive. He immediately told you that you were not allowed in the field. You had a degree in computer science, so you were still able to be useful which pleased you. Working for intelligence had allowed you to connect with a childhood friend of yours, Connor Rhodes. You’d met Connor when you’d gotten a scholarship to his prep school and became surprising fast and loyal friends. Which explained why you had to hold him back when you two ran into Kelly and Renee while at lunch. Unlike Leslie, Connor had been adamant that you tell Kelly so that he could step up and be there for you. It had taken quite a while to convince Connor to not hunt Kelly down and fight him. He may not look like it, but Connor seriously knew how to fight.

“Oh, hi Y/N!” Renee’s voice was as perky and smug as ever. “Hi Renee, Kelly. It’s really nice to see you but we should get going, have a great lunch.” You were planning to make a couple pleasantries, grab Connor, and bolt, but that all went to hell when Kelly narrowed his eyes. “What’re you doing here, Rhodes?”

“Having lunch with this lovely, incredible woman, what else would I be doing?”

“Isn’t there a surgery you need to be doing?” Kelly was quite visibly seething. “Oh, you’re a surgeon?” Renee was roaming her eyes up and down Connor’s body while biting her lip. “Yes, I am a surgeon. I had the day off, so I decided to help Y/N with buying the nursery furniture and stuff while the paint on the nursery is drying.”

“You’re the father? How did she manage to trap you?” Renee’s accusatory words were not taken well by Connor or Kelly, the latter looking at her as though she’d just kicked his puppy. “No, I am not the father, but I really wish I was.” He’d said it in such a way that if you hadn’t known him as well as you did, you’d believe him.“

“The identity of my baby’s father really isn’t any of your concern Renee.”

“Well I was just curious-”

“You should have known that it was rude and offensive to ask the things you have and behaved the way you have. Connor, let’s go. Please.”

“Yeah, good idea Y/N-”

“If you're not the father, what’re you doing, Rhodes?”

“Stepping up since you didn’t.” The silence around the four of you was deafening. Renee looked like the cat that ate the canary, Connor looked immensely regretful, Kelly paled and looked and your now somewhat noticeable bump. His eyes met yours and you couldn’t take the look of betrayal in his eyes. You ran. Out the door, down the street, and hailed the first cab you saw.

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

It was two days later when you heard knocking on your door. You opened it and there stood Kelly. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Hello to you too, Kelly.”

“Y/N.”

“You didn’t tell me that Renee came back or that she was pregnant or that you were going to be a dad, you just ghosted me.”

“Renee’s baby isn’t mine. We did a DNA test.”

“Oh, so that’s why you’re here.”

“Y/N-”

“No Kelly. You don’t get to pop in and out of my life as you please. You just dropped me, and yes, it was an understandable decision. But I had to hear about it from Leslie. You avoided me for weeks. We had a thing going, a good thing, and you decided that it wasn’t good. That what we had wasn’t enough to deserve an explanation.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry isn’t enough.”

“Tell me what to do to make it better. I’ll do anything.”

“Make me pancakes.”

“... What?”

“Make me pancakes. I’ve been craving them.”

“Alright, you got all the supplies?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright, I’ll get to work.”

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

“Can I see the nursery after you’re done eating?”

“It’s not set up yet.” Kelly perked up and there was a nervous glow in his eyes. “Can... I set it up?” You looked at him thoughtfully, his eyes were pleading under your scrutinizing gaze. Well, if he did it, you wouldn’t have to. “Sure.”

“Yes! Thank you. Uh, if you don’t mind my asking, why hasn’t Connor done it?” He looked terrified as he asked the question. “He’s been busy with his fellowship, plus I’ve felt like enough of a burden on him.”

“You’re not a burden. You’d never be a burden.” His voice was like his gaze, soft, genuine, and loving. You smiled tenderly and decided to enjoy it while it lasts.

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

You were six months pregnant and finally in need of maternity clothes. As you walked up to Trudy and the front desk she smiled at you and gestured to the dress you were wearing. “You look great Y/N.”

“I look fat.”

“Y/N you look pregnant and you’re glowing. You look beautiful.” She smiled softly at you and you smiled back. “Thanks Trudy.”

“No problem Y/N-”

BANG BANG BANG

“EVERYONE GET ON THE GROUND AND DO AS I SAY!” A gunman had startled you and you immediately dropped to the ground when you heard the shots go off. “You. Pregnant bitch. Get up and come here. Now.” You looked at Trudy, wide-eyed, not knowing what to do. “ARE YOU DEAF?! GET UP AND COME HERE!” Your body went cold and your blood was pumping so fast it was all you could hear. You kneeled and then used the desk to pull yourself up, never taking a hand off of your enlarged and vulnerable stomach.once you got close enough to see the rage in his green eyes he grabbed your arm, whipped you around, and placed the barrel of his gun to your forehead. “I have some demands,” he spoke to the precinct, “and if I don’t get what I want, I’ll blow her brains out.” Everything went fuzzy after that, voices blurred together, you couldn’t focus on what was happening. You were panicking and couldn’t do anything to stop it.

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You woke up in a hospital bed, an IV in your arm, and heart monitors on your chest. Your throat felt like sandpaper and your cheeks felt stiff and a little sticky from tears. You felt a weight on your hand and looked to see that it was Kelly. He was awake and clinging to your hand while murmuring as tears flooded down his cheeks. “Kelly?”

“Y/N! Oh, thank god you’re awake. April!” You were swarmed by nurses and doctors checking your vitals, asking you how you’re feeling. Somewhere in the hustle and bustle Connor, Voight, and Olinsky had entered the room. “How’re you doing kid?” Voight’s rough voice was oddly comforting. “I’m okay, I just... don’t remember what happened. When he grabbed me I just panicked and everything blurred together. I just...” I started to tear up, I was an unreliable witness, I froze when my baby was in danger. “Hey Y/N, don’t cry, it’s okay. We understand completely. We just came to check on you and pancake.” You smiled at the nickname Olinsky had given your baby when he found out about your cravings. Connor wrapped his arms around you. “I was so worried when they wheeled you into ED. I’m relieved that the both of you are okay. Nat’s gonna be back in soon to go over some things you’ll need to be careful of because of this.”

“What? But you said the baby was okay! What aren’t you telling us Rhodes?!”

“Severide! Either calm down or leave. Y/N does not need anymore stress!” Kelly was seething but obeyed Voight, knowing what the man was capable of doing. “Hey, Y/N is now a good time to come in and discuss your results or should I come back?” Nat was nervously standing in the doorway, eyes flitting between Kelly and Connor. “Come on in Nat. I want to know everything and I won’t hold off on that because these two want to have a pissing contest.” Both men bashfully backed down and Nat entered the room. “Your blood pressure was extremely high when you came in.That can be incredibly dangerous, to you and the baby. So, you’ll have to go on a low-sodium diet, I’ll give you a list of light exercise you’ll need to do, but other than that you’ll be on bed rest. You’ll need to make an appointment in three weeks. As long as you’re careful, eat healthy, and avoid stress you’ll be fine.” You took a deep breath as you absorbed the news and cradled your stomach. “I’d also feel much better if I knew there was someone at home who could take care of you.”

“I can. I’ve been staying with her for the past three weeks and, as long as she’s cool with it, I’ll stay as long as needed.” Kelly looked at you, promise in his eyes. Connor huffed and said, “what about when you’re on shift?”

“Everyone at Intelligence has been worried about her, we’ll take turns keeping tabs on and spending the day with her.” Hank’s answer was definitive and stopped anymore arguing. “Thanks Sarg.”

“No problem kid.”

“Y/N,” Nat said, bringing attention back to her, “do you have any questions for me?”

“Yeah, I do have one actually. Am I allowed to have pancakes?”

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Your appointment had come and gone very slowly. This was mostly due to the fact that Kelly was smothering and overprotective. You’d been delighted when you were taken off bedrest, even though you’d still been told to be careful. Kelly did not let up on his protectiveness. Even when you invited him to stay with you in your bed.

Things with you and Kelly had gotten even more complicated. Everyone knew he was the father, you were living together, and you’d started doing couple-y things. Going out to dinner once a week (only once you were off bedrest), being each other’s emergency contacts, moving in together, sharing a bed, intimate gestures, and preparing for the arrival of a baby together. “Hey Y/N, how was your day?” He quickly kissed your forehead before going to the kitchen to put away the groceries he’d just bought. You felt... unsure. You didn’t know what your relationship was and that concerned you. You had fallen even more in love with him and you just didn’t know what to do with that information. Kelly seemed to sense that your mood had changed from cheerful to troubled and sat next to you on the couch. “What’s wrong? And don’t tell me there’s nothing wrong, you keep staring off into space and frowning. I know that being eight- almost nine- months pregnant isn’t exactly a picnic, but I’m worried about you. Please, Y/N.”

“What are we?”

“Huh?”

“Are we dating? Co-parenting? I just... I’m in love with you, okay? It hurts, knowing that it’s possible you’re only here out of a sense of duty. That you don’t... love me back-” You were interrupted by Kelly kissing you. His hands moved to the sides of your face as he kissed you lovingly, desperately. It was like he was worried you were going to disappear on him. You parted, panting, foreheads pressed together. “I love you. So much. When Renee told me she was pregnant, I was excited to be a dad, but I was sad that it wouldn’t be with you. That’s why I didn’t tell you, I couldn’t face you. I wanted you to be the pregnant one, not her. It hurt, to wake up with her and not you, to go to doctor’s appointments with her instead of you. And when April told me you’d been taken to the hospital after being taken hostage and that you were unresponsive? I collapsed. I answered the phone and my knees just buckled Casey and Cruz caught me and drove me to the hospital. You are without a doubt, one of the most important people in my life. The others being Leslie and pancake. I can’t pinpoint when I fell in love with you, but I fell hard, and I couldn’t be happier. I want a relationship and future with you. I know that might be a little fast, but I’ll take anything you’re willing to give me. I’ll work as hard as possible to earn it. We can go slow, fast, or just go with the flow, but I love you, I love pancake, and I want to get married one day and have more kids.”

“I love you so much Kelly, I want to work for that future, too.” Kelly let out a laugh and the bubble of anxiety within you disappeared. You grabbed his shirt and pulled him down for a long, loving, smiling kiss that was filled to the brim with promises for the future.

#one chicago #chicago pd #chicago med #chicago fire #connor rhodes #connor rhodes x reader #kelly severide #kelly severide x reader #leslie shay x reader #leslie shay #hank voight

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