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blueberrybirdsworld · 16 days ago

Note

I would LOVE a story about a teacher and Lando. Like she brings her class to the race and meet.

Title: Lost & Found

Summary : Having to take care of twenty eight-year-olds student through the Monaco Grand Prix paddock was never going to be easy. Between roaring engines, flashing cameras, and a sea of distracted little minds, Y/N's just trying to survive the day with her sanity intact.

But when one curious kid slips away into the chaos, panic sets in fast, until an unexpected rescue from someone in papaya orange turns the worst moment into something, unexpectedly unforgettable.

Genre : request, fluff, oneshot

Pairing : Lando Norris x teacher!Y/N

Author note: thank you for your request, it have been in my draft for a very long time I'm sorry, hope you like it :)

Main Masterlist

The Monaco sun was already relentless by the time Y/N stepped onto the paddock with twenty very excited kids buzzing around her like bees on sugar. With their paddock yellow passes, they should’ve been easy to keep track of. Should’ve.

But the Grand Prix paddock was an absolute madhouse. Engines roared in the distance, cameras flashed, and team members darted back and forth in branded uniforms. The kids were eating it up.

And Y/N, was barely keeping it together.

"Guys! Stay in pairs!" she shouted, waving her clipboard in the air like a traffic officer. "I want eyes on your buddies at all times, understood?"

A wave of “Yes, Miss Y/N!” chorused back, half-hearted and scattered as they peered around with wide eyes.

Her co-teacher, Mr. Dupont, leaned toward her. “I have to take Louis to the toilet. We’ll meet you at the hospitality, yes?”

“Okay, but be quick,” Y/N nodded. “Please.”

And then she was alone. One woman. Nineteen kids. A sea of media passes and chaos.

She did a quick scan of the group: Ella, Noah, Jules, Maelys, Clément...

Her blood turned cold.

Where is Sara?

She blinked, once, twice. Did a full-body scan again.

No Sara.

“Sara?” she called, voice loud but even. No answer. “Sara, sweetheart? Where are you?”

She moved through the group. “Has anyone seen Sara? Anyone?”

Ella looked up at her with wide eyes. “She was next to me… but then I think she saw a car and get excited.”

Y/N’s heart began to race, but she didn’t allow herself to panic just yet.

“Okay. Everyone stay together,” she said, already scanning ahead.

With a firm but quick pace, she guided the remaining children through the crowd toward their next scheduled stop: the hospitality. Thankfully, just ahead, she spotted their designated paddock host, Léa, the official guest coordinator for the school groups. The woman stood confidently, speaking into a radio near the entrance.

“Léa!” Y/N called out as they approached.

Léa turned, immediately concerned. “Is everything alright?”

“I lost one,” Y/N said in a low voice, pulling her aside. “Sara. She must’ve slipped away in the crowd. I think she got distracted.”

“Do you want me to alert security?”

“Not yet,” Y/N replied quickly. “She can’t have gone far. I’ll look around nearby. But please, can you keep an eye on the rest of the group while I go?”

“Of course,” Léa said, already scanning the students. “Go. I’ve got them.”

Y/N turned back to the kids. “Everyone, stay here with Léa. You’ll wait here for Mr. Dupont. No one moves without an adult. Got it?”

A nervous but obedient chorus of nods and 'yes' followed.

“Good,” she said, trying to keep her tone steady, even as her pulse thundered in her ears.

Then she turned and started running.

The paddock had grown busier in just minutes, people pressing in from every direction, staff members and guests weaving through the maze of garages and barriers. She stood on her toes, eyes darting frantically.

“Sara?!” she called again, louder this time. “Sara, please answer me!”

No response.

She pushed further down the alley, ignoring the eyes on her. She must’ve looked wild: disheveled, flushed, panic all over her face. She didn’t care.

Images swirled in her head: the girl crying in a corner somewhere, or worse, what if she wandered into a restricted area? What if she got hurt?

Oh God. Oh God.

She was going to lose her job. She was going to have to call Sara’s parents and tell them she lost their daughter during a school outing to the Monaco Grand Prix. Who thought it was a good idea to bring twenty 8 year-olds into the middle of a Formula 1 race weekend?

“Sara!” she cried, weaving through a group of media personnel. “Sara, please...”

Then she stopped.

Frozen mid-step, heart still hammering, lungs burning.

There, at the far end of the paddock, just in front of the McLaren hospitality area : a little girl with her yellow pass.

Sara.

Her cheeks were flushed pink with excitement, her curls bouncing as she tilted her head back in laughter. In front of her crouched a man, smiling wide, holding out something in his hand.

Y/N narrowed her eyes.

A cap. A McLaren cap.

He was handing it to her like he was gifting her the moon. And Sara, her missing student, was beaming like the happiest kid in the world.

Y/N felt a wave of overwhelming relief crash into her chest. She ran, pushing past two engineers and a cameraman, not caring who she was bumping into.

“Sara!” she shouted, voice thick with emotion.

The girl turned at the sound of her name, eyes lighting up as she spotted her teacher.

She dashed into her arms like she’d never been more thrilled to see her in her life. Y/N dropped to her knees, catching her in a tight hug, burying her face into the girl’s shoulder.

��Oh my God. Oh, sweetheart. I was so scared,” she whispered, voice cracking. “Where did you go?”

“I’m sorry,” Sara said, breathless. “I just saw a papaya car, and then people moved, and I didn’t know where you were anymore!”

Y/N pulled back just enough to look her over. “You’re not hurt?”

Sara shook her head.

Once the initial wave of relief passed, Y/N leaned back just slightly and gave Sara a firmer look.

“I’m really happy you’re okay,” she said gently, brushing a curl from the girl’s cheek, “but sweetheart, you can’t ever walk away like that again. You had me worried sick.”

“I know…” Sara murmured, looking down.

“And you absolutely shouldn’t talk to people you don’t know,” Y/N added, voice low but firm. “Even if they seemed nice.”

“I didn’t mean to,” Sara replied with a wobble in her voice. “I just got pushed a bit and then everyone moved and I couldn’t find you. I was scared. But he...he helped me.”

“She really was careful,” came a warm voice behind them.

Y/N’s eyes finally lifted to the man who was now standing just a few feet away. Still smiling. Curls peeking out from under his cap, which had a small logo and number : 4.

Her breath caught.

It wasn’t just a McLaren staff member.

It was Lando, Lando fucking Norris.

“There’s no need to scold her too much,” he said gently. “She didn’t run off on purpose. And for the record, I’m not just any stranger.”

Y/N blinked, still shock. “Right. I guess most strangers don’t get their faces printed on full-size garage banners.”

He laughed, a quick, boyish sound that made Sara giggle too.

“I think your little girl might be a fan,” he added, giving the child a wink.

“Oh, she’s not my daughter,” Y/N said quickly. “She’s one of my students. I’m a teacher. We brought a group here for a school outing.”

Lando raised his brows. “You brought kids… here? To the paddock? During race weekend?”

She let out a long sigh. “Yes. Twenty of them. Which is, in hindsight, a terrible idea.”

“That sounds like an actual nightmare.”

“You have no idea.”

“Let me guess. This one slipped away the moment she saw something shiny?”

“She has a radar for trouble,” Y/N muttered fondly, glancing down at Sara, who now wore the McLaren cap proudly like it was a crown. “But seriously… thank you. For keeping her safe. And calm. And away from the chaos.”

He tilted his head. “I couldn’t just leave her. She looked a little overwhelmed.”

“Because she was,” Y/N said honestly, softening. “This place is like a sensory overload machine for kids.”

“For adults too,” he added with a smirk. “Some of us just pretend we’re not overwhelmed.”

Y/N smiled, finally letting her shoulders relax. “Well, I appreciate you not pretending to ignore a lost child. That was… very decent of you.”

“Decent is my middle name.” he said, eyes sparkling. “And I don’t usually make it a habit to flirt with stressed-out teachers in the middle of the paddock, but you’re kind of making it difficult not to.”

Y/N stared at him for a second, unsure if she’d just imagined the flirtation in his voice.

Sara didn’t miss a beat.

“Miss Y/N doesn’t have a boyfriend!” she announced proudly, tugging Lando’s sleeve. “Maybe you can be her boyfriend!”

Y/N felt her soul leave her body.

Lando burst out laughing. “Oh really?” he asked, glancing at Y/N. “Is that so?”

“I...Sara!” Y/N’s voice was strangled. “That’s not something we say out loud.”

“But it’s true!” Sara insisted innocently. “And you said you like boys with curly hair.”

Lando raised an eyebrow. “Curly hair, huh? I think I might be in the running.”

“She tells us that one day in class!” Sara added helpfully.

Y/N groaned, half-laughing, half-horrified. “Okay, wow. This has gone completely off the rails.”

Lando crouched back down to Sara’s level. “Tell you what,” he said with a conspiratorial grin. “How about we don’t jump straight to boyfriend, but maybe… a date? Would that be okay with Miss Y/N?”

Y/N crossed her arms, but she was smiling. “You’re seriously asking me out in front of a child right now?”

“Hey, I’m just trying to be honest. And brave. Kids appreciate bravery, right?” He looked at Sara.

She nodded solemnly.

Y/N sighed, fighting the grin growing on her lips. “I guess I do owe you one for finding my student and saving me from a heart attack.”

“Perfect,” he said, standing up again, cocky grin fully intact. “Maybe we could see each other again after race ?”

Sara gasped. “Can I come?!”

Lando gave her a smile. “You already got the cap, little legend. Let me win over your teacher now, okay?”

He looked up at Y/N again, his voice gentler. “So… what do you say? Can I take you out sometime? You know, when you’re not managing a small army.”

Y/N hesitated, caught between her professional boundaries and the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled.

“I mean…” she exhaled a small laugh, “as long as you promise not to charm all my students before you charm me.”

“No promises,” Lando replied smoothly, “but I do have stickers in the motorhome.”

Sara gasped. “You do?!”

Y/N gave him a warning look, but she was smiling.

Later, when she rejoined the group with Sara in tow, cap on her head, cheeks glowing, Léa gave her a knowing glance.

“Everything alright?”

“More than alright,” Y/N said, her eyes catching a flash of papaya suit disappearing around the corner.

Sara tugged on her sleeve again. “So… are you going to kiss him?”

“Sara!”

“What? That’s what happens at the end of movies!”

Y/N groaned. “We are never watching movies in class ever again.”

taglist : @bunnisplayground, @vampgege, @chocolatemooncoffee, @sashisuslover, @gold66loveblog, @carlando4, @il0vereadingstuff, @lilith-123321, @ispywlittleeye-blog, @h-rtsnana, @anonomano, @guacala, @charlotteking27, @ninass-world, @scarletwidow3000, @taetae-armyyyyy, @mynameisangeloflife, @tsuniio, @sophxxkiss, @teti-menchon0604, @angelluv16, @httpsxnox, @anunstablefangirl, @chocolatemagazinecupcake, @mayax2o07, @freyathehuntress, @verogonewild, @lilyofthevalley-09, @esw1012, @its-me-frankie, @linneaguriii, @ezzi-ln4, @rlbmutynnek, @actuallyazriel, @sofs16, @thulior, @sltwins, @henna006, @stylesmoonlight12, @lilaissa, @sideboobrry11, @l3thal-l0lita, @lorena-mv33, @ispywlittleeye-blog, @lesliiieeeee, @sageskiesf1, @adynorris, @curlylando, @rebelliousneferut, @justcharlotte, @secret-agents-stole-my-bunnies, @emneedshelp, @lando-505, @yukimaniac, @sashisuslover, @f1norris04, @dustie-faerie, @madicecream123

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luvether · 3 months ago

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SOAKED CONFESSIONS ✦ the hero who offers to be your personal bath attendant after a mission gone wrong, his gentle touches hinting something that you seem to misunderstand as camaraderie, so he has to show you what he truly feels about you.

phainon x gn!reader. sensual (?) and fluff content. bathing together and implicit mentions of nudity (sfw) physical touching, unspoken confessions. unlabeled relationship. phainon being really affectionate and bold. self-indulgent at its finest, I miss him. [2.0k wc]

“I was expecting to be scolded for this but a two hour lecture was something I did not quite anticipate from Tribbie upon our return.”

Bathed in the golden glow within the private changing rooms, your heavy sigh echoes at the vestiges of his, a tone that’s borderline chastising. “And who do you think is responsible for this farce?”

At your chastise, Phainon could do nothing but chuckle heartily.

“I’ve already said sorry numerous times as we rode back to Okhema.” He leans close to your face, head tilted. “Do you want another hundred apologies? I don’t mind reciting those at your behest—”

“Save it, Phainon.” You proceed to pinch his cheek as you brush past him “You? listening to me? If you’d done that a few hours ago instead of dallying and straying from our path, we wouldn’t have stumbled across those titankins. Kephale above, the goods and dromas were unharmed but we were delayed a few hours, got our clothes dirty and were punished the moment we arrived. I'm tired and I would prefer not to be at the end of your jokes right now.”

Silence spills in between the two of you, the gravity of your sobered words made Phainon realize you truly were upset at him this time around.

There was a part of you that felt guilty for shutting him down, it was an unintentional accident—but you truly were tired and had no energy left in you to go back and forth with him. Besides the growing silence, only the rustle of you discarding your mud-caked clothes could be heard. Maybe you’re too petulant for the events that have happened, looking down at your dirtied fabrics and struggling to untie the ribbon of your uniform that you are unaware of his footsteps closing in on you, his chin finds itself hooked on your shoulder and his arms come winding from behind—helping you untie the lace that was now the ire of your frustrations with perfect ease.

Maybe it truly was Phainon’s charms, his mannerisms or his innate ability to calm you like a balm—but when the lace finally falls loose on the marble floor, you draw out a thickened breath, though you don’t utter a thanks like how you’d usually be.

This concerns him, your lack of reaction.

“So you are truly mad at me?”

“No, I’m not mad—“

“You sound like it.” stated Phainon, his fingers glide slowly, unbuttoning your own fabrics. “Mad and—look at you, you are flushed with fury.”

Your gloves fall to the ground next. “I’m simply peeved.”

“Peeved or mad, those are still the same things, no?” His tone dips in honeyed sincerity. “I’m sorry for what happened. I should’ve listened to you, like you said.”

“No, I—” your anger vanished at the taste of his tone. You finally turn to face him fully, brows in a furrow “I'm just exhausted after the long journey back. It was not my intention to take it out on you, I should be the one apologising for my lack of manners.”

A belly-full of silence comes after your apology. “Then, let me help you? It's the least I could do.”

“Help with what exactly?”

The oceans of Phainon’s eyes are muddled in quiet mirth, he brushes his thumb beneath your eyes, “Today, think of me as your personal bath servant. Any needs or wants—aches to remedy, any muscles to massage, I will tend to them all.”

You’ve stiffened at such a frank declaration. Does Phainon even realize what he’s talking about?

“I—“ you start but are left stumbling. “Are you certain, lord? Truly that’s not…”

The blues of his eyes crinkle, his hands wandering down your neck, crawling up your arms to remove the fastened bracers on your wrists. “I insist.” His gaze flickers up to your own. “Unless you don’t want to..”

You could do nothing but exhale, you cannot find it in you to decline such an offer—or ever dare decline the man before you without feeling like you’d just kicked a pup on the street.

“You should do it too.”

Phainon’s fingers freeze at your statement, he stiffens even more when your hands reach out to tug the belt that secured his spaulders. “Remove your uniform, you’re just as filthy as me and I wouldn’t want to be the only one to enjoy the baths at this hour.”

The atmosphere is quiet and gentle. Phainon’s blue eyes remain still as he watches you hook a finger on his choker, ridding the material as his throat, strong collar bones and tattoo is bared to you.

You were too busy trying to unclasp every piece of armor to notice how he swallowed thickly at your close proximity and tender fingers—how his twinkled blue eyes observe you from beneath dark lashes, a splotch of heat furnacing the apple of his cheeks.

Only until you hear a rumble of a chuckle do your eyes flicker up, and Phainon was seen smiling at you.

“What?”

“Nothing.” He laughs heartily. “It just amuses me how one can catch your undeniable attention. Truly it’s a miracle that someone like me can do that sometimes.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere.” His teasing had once again made your cheeks surflux with heat. When the last heavy armor slips from his body, you step away and turn.

“Get changed into the bathrobes and get the baskets of oils, I’ll check the temperature of our bath.”

At the short time Phainon wasn’t around, you tried to gather your bearings and tame the unwanted crave. You swallow down the fluttering of your heart, flex your fingers from its jitters during the fleeting moments of touching him—it’s a miserable sort of yearning, really. You try to remind yourself that he doesn’t feel the same as you did, but how can you recite those words when the Deliverer himself does not make it convincing for the two of you?

The golden salts of lukewarm water rippled at the company of both your bodies and almost immediately, as soon as the two of you soak into Phagousa’s blessings—Phainon’s hands inches at the silken fabrics of your bathrobe, tugging your attention to him.

For all the time knowing him, you weren’t really particular with his hands. But every moment you spend time with the alluring yet charming Chrysos heir, his hands—despite its roughened calluses—are as gentle as a psalm, deliberate even.

“Turn around.” He’d instruct you so and yet his raspy voice sounded so breathless, so tight with wanting anticipation. You’d follow through without so much as a breath. Phainon cupped a handful of water and let it soak through your roots, lithe fingers that've been honeyed with bath oils comb through your wet tendrils and you simply hum at the gesture.

He touches you like a golden cradle, firm yet tender as he explores for any knots on your sinews, pushing his fingers through your nude muscles to smoothen back the stress and exhaustion.

“You’re surprisingly good at this, keep going.” You’d muse after a few unsound minutes.

He’d respond with that endearing laugh of his. “I’m touched by your compliment. Have I been forgiven?”

To his question, you sober. “About that, I’ve been wondering for a while..”

Phainon awaits for you to complete your thought, patient fingers lifting up to stroke your hair.

“During our mission, it’s not like you to be so distracted.” You start softly. “Are you okay?”

When you feel his fingers pause, you know that your fruitless question held some sort of truth. Phainon completely retracts from you, the mild burn of his touch leaving with him and the water sloshes, ripple then still.

”Phainon?” You turn to face him and for a split second, you see a spill of shadow fall over his eyes.

“Phainon,” Your voice softens like wheat. “Hey.” You lift to palm his wet cheek, that brings him out of his stupor and his darkened eyes return back to its pale, warm color.

“Hm?”

You frown. “I asked if you are well, lord Phainon.”

His casual smile painted the soft textures of his expression. “What, are you concerned about my well-being?”

Silence follows his half-hearted claim, it's a type of silence that could only mean nothing but agreement to his question. It only proves his conjecture when he sees the look on your face.

Phainon held your cheeks so delicately, softly bumping his wet forehead with yours.

“What gave it away?” He asked, from how close he was, you could smell his faint scent of remnant wood and rum, like he’s been baked under the sunlight for hours.

You drink in a shaky inhale, dropping your gaze at the murky ripple of water beneath you—looking anywhere but him.

“You are terrible with facial expressions.”

You can feel his smile. “Mydeimos told me the same thing.”

“The troubles that you have, it’s about your past, isn’t it?”

“When has anyone not been troubled by their past?” Phainon answers you. “Hey, look at me please?”

You feel his hand leaving your cheek, he tips your chin up and you lock eyes. You dare try to dissect his expression, watching the way droplets fall from his long lashes, down the sharp contours of his face then hang on his chin before joining the bottomless water of your warm bath.

“I just had a nightmare about it and I take full responsibility for letting it get in the way of our mission, it caused us quite the mess and the punishment.”

“Oh, so this is why you offered to what, massage me?”

Phainon seems to wince at your indication. “Well, you’re not wrong but—”

You sigh. “Again, you don’t have to apologize to me for that or even go through all of this to make it up to me, Lord Phainon.”

You must’ve misunderstood something. Phainon’s brows furrow at your statement, a frown tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Wait a second, are you dismissing my efforts of…all of this simply because you think I felt sorry for what happened about the mission?”

“Is this…not why you volunteered to partake in all my needs? to act like some Marmoreal Palace chaperone?”

“Kephale, no!”

If there is one thing you try not to do, it is to jump to conjectures. With the way Phainon reacted vehemently at your claim, you cannot help but feel utterly flustered about it.

A chuckle slips down between his teeth, running his fingers through his wet bangs, the tones of his denuded muscles tauten. “Have you…not paid any attention? To me? Or even felt the way I’ve been touching you till now?”

He spoke as if it was obvious.

Though you had a guess, truly you did. Each longing cradle, each push of finger on your skin, each caress that lasts longer than your breaths— of course you’d notice something, you’d be a fool not to. Your skin crawled with the burn of him, but you thought you were being delusional.

How could you even begin to think that was what he meant?

You spin away from him quickly, you feel a splotch of heat biting the tip of your ears, then down your cheeks and neck. “I…well you weren’t being chaste about it, I’ll give you that.”

And now that you had your back to him, you are now particular to his presence that seem to singe the patterns of your vertebrae. The waters beneath you ripple softly as he moves closer, his naked chest pressing against your spine, his lips fluttering on the back of your neck, you can feel his breath of a confession smearing your skin.

“Then, do you wish for me to show you?” Phainon speaks so low, running his arms down the curves of your body as he presses another firm kiss on your neck. Then, he slowly turns you—backing you against the bath’s edge, you gaze up at his raw and beguiling eyes, the color of ocean waves untamed.

He cradles your cheeks catching your undeniable attention and allowing you to sink and drown in those eyes of his,

“I’ll show you just how serious I am, when it comes to you.”

#⋆ ࣪. 🪐 kou works.#phainon x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #phainon hsr #amphoreus x reader #amphoreus #—stellaronhvnters.

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pencil-n-pen · 4 months ago

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PLUSH

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masterlist | kofi

alexandria! rick grimes x fem! reader

summary: after settling in alexandria, you’ve put on a few pounds. you’ve never really been all that skinny, but rick is quick to set you straight on just how he feels about your tummy.

cw: reader isn’t like the biggest fan of her weight (rick is in FULL and INTENSE favor of the tummy!) but reader is otherwise not described

a/n: hey i don’t rlly know what happened to me while writing this little blurb. i just feel like rick is one of those guys who goes crazy over a woman’s pouch n stomach fat ESPECIALLY in the apocalypse

brought to you by the weight i’ve gained while recovering from knee surgery

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۫ ꣑ৎ

Alexandria is nice. Comfortable. Safe.

You might not feel safe all the time, but well. Does anyone, with the constant, looming threat of the undead? Alexandria has walls- good ones, but still.

Though it seems your comfortability has gone directly to one place.

It’s the end of the day, and you’ve taken off your usual outerwear and now stand in front of the mirror in the bedroom, the tank top you usually wear under your clothes a little tighter than usual.

You turn to the side, eyes ever critical as you trace the new curves you’re sporting.

Back and forth, side to side, sucking it in, raising your arms above your head, squishing it with your hands. Pulling your tank top off your body a little bit. Now, you have always been on the squishier side, having retained some of it even when food was especially scarce, but now you look more like you did before the world went to hell.

Funny how that works. How there’s hordes of undead not too far away, how society has collapsed, and you’re still staring at yourself in the mirror, wondering if you should try to lose some weight.

Someone clears their throat behind you, and you drop the plush flesh in your hands.

Rick’s leaning against the bathroom doorframe, eyeing you up and down with a certain heat in his eyes.

You haven’t been together for very long. Not long enough for you to know how he’ll react to the sight of the roll of flesh hanging over the edge of your pajama bottoms.

You’re not entirely sure how you managed to capture his attention in the first place, let alone move in together once you reached Alexandria. You were just a loner the group had picked up not too far from the safe zone, desperate for protection and safety in numbers.

And well. Who can look at Rick and not want his arms around you in every conceivable way?

“What d’ya have there?” He asks, pushing off the doorframe and making his way over to you.

You avoid his gaze (it still makes you nervous) and turn back to the mirror.

“Nothing. I guess I’ve been eating better since getting here.”

“Mm,” He hums, deep and throaty. “I like it.”

You frown. “You don’t have to—“

He comes up behind you, chin hooking over your shoulder and hands coming around the squeeze and roll the fat between his hands.

“You don’t like it?”

You make a non-committal noise.. “I think most girls don’t, really. Well, maybe not. I can’t speak for all women. But,”

You shrug. “I’ve never really been skinny, so. I don’t know.”

Rick’s hands are warm and hot where they hold and squeeze your tummy.

“Do you not like it when I do this?” He murmurs, lips against your neck.

It’s a conflicting feeling. On one hand, Rick is ridiculously attractive, and his hands feel amazing on your body.

On the other hand, the squeezing and rolling accentuates and draws attention to the fat there.

“I don’t know,” You decide to answer honestly. He hasn’t responded negatively so far. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy the weight I lost when I was alone. Kind of a fucked up thing to think, I know.”

You sigh. “I appreciate what my body does for me.”

Rick just hums, arms around your waist. “You look healthy. Makes me happy to know my woman,” He mouths at your neck, “Is provided for. I’m a man, sweetheart. The only thing I want to do with this here,”

He rolls the fat in his hands for emphasis. “Is bury my fuckin’ face in it.”

Your skin feels hot and cold at the same time, and you squirm in place at the attention.

He holds you in place. “You know what it means? Means my woman is taken care of. Means I’m doing my job. What kind of man would I be if you were all skin and bone? Couldn’t call myself a man.”

You huff, leaning back into his chest a little. “I thought flat stomachs were the beauty standard.”

“Sweetheart,” He groans, “I don’t fuckin’ care what the standard is. You think the Greeks were carving women with flat stomachs?”

“No, but—“

“No, nothing. You look sexy as hell. ‘Sides. It’s protecting an organ I happen to like very much.”

You smack his arm. “You’re terrible.”

He kisses your cheek. “No I’m not. Come on. It’s too late for you to be worrying about anything.”

He turns off the lights while you get comfortable, then quickly settles in bed with you, arms circling your waist and pulling you flush to his chest, hands sliding under your tank and immediately resuming their ministrations.

“Rick.” You say warningly.

“What?” He murmurs, voice already rumbly and slow. “M’ just getting comfortable.”

“You’re such a tease.”

“Is it a crime to love on my woman? All of her?”

“It is when we’re supposed to be sleeping.”

“Fine, fine,” He grumbles, burying his face in your neck, hands stilling but remaining where they are.

“Can’t believe you don’t like it. S’ so soft. So nice to hold. One of my favorite things.”

“Oh really?”

“Mmm,” He gives it one last squeeze. “Yeah.”

Well. In the face of dedication like that, who could deny the man?

You let out a long exhale, relaxing into his hold and allowing him the comfort he so clearly desires. Rick makes a happy noise in the back of his throat and rubs your stomach a few times before well and truly settling into sleep.

With his warm hands held fast around you, you follow soon after.

۫ ꣑ৎ

483 notes · View notes

waitimcomingtoo · 2 years ago

Text

A Film By Peter Parker

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: Peter gets back into making little videos once the two of you start hanging out

warning: extreme 2017 homecoming era nostalgia

Masterlist

Of course he went for Liz.

Liz was the ingénue. She was perfect in every possible way. Perfect grades, perfect face, and the perfect boy pining after her. You’d been crushing on Peter since the third grade but with Liz around, he never noticed you.

But Liz was gone now. She had moved to Oregon following her dad’s arrest and taken Peter’s feelings for her with her. Now that she was gone, you decided it was time to stop pining after Peter from afar and start pining from up close. And so, when you walked into the cafeteria that day, you didn’t sit at the end of the table like you usually did.

“Oh, hey.” Peter smiled in surprise when you sat down next to him. Smiling was good. Smiling meant he wasn’t creeped out by you sitting so close. You gulped before giving him best smile back.

“Hi.”

“What are you doing here?” Ned asked, making Peter give him a look. You immediately regretted your decision and wished you’d just stayed in your usual spot.

“What do you mean? She always sits with us.” Peter pointed out.

“No, she always sits down there. She’s never actually sat with us before.” Ned replied and gestured to the end of the lunch table.

“Yes, but I’m sitting here today because I needed Peters help with the chemistry homework.” You said and put your chemistry notebook on the table. You knew you couldn’t just randomly sit with them without a reason, so you came prepared.

“Oh, for Mr. Eddie’s class? It’s easy. I’ll show you my notes.” Peter’s offered with a smile. You returned the smile as he pulled out his own notebook. It was a win/win for you since you actually needed help with the homework and it would start a conversation with Peter. While he was explaining the problem to you, you never once looked down at the notebook. You were too focused on the curve of Peter’s suspiciously long eyelashes, the longest you’d ever seen on a boy. Ned noticed the way you were staring his his best friend and frowned a little.

“Does that make sense?” Peter’s asked when he was done explaining.

“Yeah, it does. Wow, thanks Peter. It sounds so easy the way you explain it. I wish this stuff came as naturally to me as it does for you. You’re so smart.” You said as if you had listened to a single word he had said.

“That’s nice of you to say but I’m really not that smart. I just like chemistry.” He replied as he blushed from the compliment.

“Oh, come on. You’re the smartest guy I know. You’re the only one that answers questions in that class. And you always get them right. When Mr. Eddie asks if anyone has any questions, I don’t raise my hand because I don’t even know what I’m confused about yet.”

“That’s I feel in English. I can barely make it through the first line in a poem and you’re already going back and forth with Ms. Teague about Pindaric odes or whatever they’re called.”

“You listen to when I talk in English?” You asked with a soft smile.

“Of course I do.” Peter shrugged. “I always find the reading boring until you raise your hand and talk about how you interpreted it. You make it interesting.”

“I liked that book we read when the kids ate the other kids.” Ned said and interrupted the moment. Your smile dropped as you and Peter looked at him with disgust.

“The one with the flies-“

“We know.” Peter cut him off.

“Anyways, thank you for helping me with the homework. I’ve been stuck on it all week.” You said to Peter.

“Ugh. That’s been me with my paper for Mrs. Teagues class. And it’s due tomorrow.” Peter groaned.

“Oh, the analysis essay? I could help you with that.” You offered.

“Really? You’d help me?” Peter smiled in surprise.

“Yeah. I already wrote mine. It would be no problem.”

Ned was watching this back and forth conversation for a while until it clicked it in head. He gasped and slapped the table, making you and Peter look at him.

“Oh my God.” Ned said. “That’s why you’re sitting here. You have a-“

“Can I talk to you for a second, Ned?” You quickly cut him off when you realized where that sentence was going. Before Ned could even answer, you grabbed his arm and pulled him outside the cafeteria to talk in private.

“You like Peter!” Ned whispered harshly. You clamped your hand over his mouth and pushed him up against the wall.

“You need to keep your mouth shut.” You hissed. “Yes, I like Peter, okay? I’ve had a crush on Peter since middle school. He never noticed me when Liz was around but now that she’s in Oregon, I might finally have my chance. I don’t want to scare him off so just keep your mouth shut and let me handle this.”

You took your hand off Ned’s mouth and he started to gasp for air.

“Oh, please. Your nose wasn’t covered. You could breathe just fine.” You said with a roll of your eyes. Ned stopped pretended and straightened up.

“So you actually like Peter? For his personality?”

“Yes. Is that so hard to believe?”

“Kinda, yeah.” Ned admitted.

“I like everything about him. And I’m gonna tell him that. Just please, don’t say anything before I do. I’ll tell him when I’m ready.”

“Are you going to cast a love spell on him using a lock of his hair?” Ned whispered to you.

“What? No. Why would you even ask me that?”

“Because you’re a witch.” Ned said like it was obvious.

“I’m not a witch.” You groaned. “I just accidentally cackled that one time but it was only because I had phlegm in my throat.”

“Then about that time on the bus?”

“We’ve been over this. It was just a coincidence that that biker fell off his bike after I gestured with my hand. I didn’t move him with my mind.”

“And that one time in physics?” Ned narrowed his eyes.

“I still don’t know how that guys shirt caught on fire.” You shrugged. “It’s a mystery to me.”

“It caught on fire after he made fun of you for being a witch.” Ned pointed out.

“Maybe he was just standing too close to the flame.” You shrugged.

“He was standing in the doorway. There was no flame.” Ned reminded you.

“The magic of science.” You shrugged again.

“But what about that time-“

“Don’t bring up the nosebleed.” You whined.

“I am gonna bring up the nosebleed.” Ned hissed. “In sixth grade, our Spanish teacher got a nosebleed right after he told you to stop staring out the window and made everyone laugh at you. How do you explain that?”

“You’ve made your point, okay? Now are you gonna tell Peter or not?”

“Look, I’m not gonna expose your gross secret feelings, as gross and secret as they may be.” Ned sighed. “But Peter is still my best friend so I have to look out for him. I don’t want any spells cast on him.”

“That’s fine. There will not be any spells.” You held your your hands in defense. Just then, Flash walked by and laughed when he saw the two of you talking.

“Woah. What is this, the friendless loser convention?” Flash snorted.

“Shut up.” You snapped. Flash immediately tripped over his feet and fell to the ground, making Ned look at you with wide eyes.

“Witch!” He whispered harshly as he pointed a finger at you.

“Shut up. Let’s go back inside.” You rolled your eyes and pulled Ned back into the cafeteria.

Later that day, you met up with Peter in the library to go over your assignments. You started with his English essay and finished that within an hour before moving on to your chemistry homework.

“You can plug the numbers into your formula now using the method I taught you. And then you just solve for x.” Peter explained as you worked out a problem together.

“Hm. You make it sound so simple.” You sighed and leaned on your hand. Peter saw the way you were staring at him in his peripheral vision and felt his face heat up.

“It’s, uh, it’s pretty easy once you get the hang of it. I never liked the way Mr. Eddie taught it. I figured this out myself and it’s worked much better for me.”

“Thanks for helping me. You’re a good teacher.” You said and put your hand on his arm. Peter laughed shyly at the contact and cleared his throat.

“Thanks. And so are you. That was the best essay I’ve ever produced. I honestly worry she won’t believe I wrote it.”

“Well if she says anything, I can vouch for you. You put in good work on this essay. You deserve the credit.” You assured him, making Peter blush all over again. It occurred to Peter that he never realized how pretty you were. You’d been classmates since 3rd grade so he always looked at you as just another girl in his class. Now that you had his full attention, he didn’t feel like looking away.

“Thanks. I appreciate you helping me write it. I know it can be frustrating to work with me because of my dyslexia.”

“It’s no problem. And it wasn’t frustrating at all.” You shrugged. Peter smiled at felt better about how long it took him to write the essay.

“Thanks.” He said. You had successfully gotten him to spend time with you one on one but now you needed to commence the next phase in your plan which was to hang out in a non school related setting.

“Would you ever want to hang out socially?” You blurted.

“Like, and not do homework?” He asked. You nodded your head and he smiled before nodding as well.

“Yeah. Sure. I’d love to.”

“Cool. Me too.” You smiled. You hadn’t meant to blurt it out like that but it worked nonetheless.

“Does this weekend work?” He asked you.

“Yeah. What do you want to do?”

Hard cut to that weekend. You were on the subway with Peter and he had his phone out to record himself.

“Firts social hang out with a girl. A film by Peter Parker.” He said in a low voice before flipping the camera to face you.

“Staring me.” You smiled and waved to the camera.

“Are you sure you’re cool with me filming this?” Peter asked as he flipped the camera back to himself.

“Yeah, of course. The other ones you showed me were so cute. But why did it seem like there were so many missing parts? You were always talking about something cool that I didn’t get to see.”

“Uhhh, no reason.” Peter said and looked to the side. He had skillfully edited out any incriminating superhero activity that you were not ready to see yet.

“Well I like it. I feel like I’m on Modern Family.” You said and posed for the camera.

“Which family member would you be?” Peter laughed and zoomed in on you. With his phone blocking his face, he could shamelessly admire your face on his screen.

“Duh. Lily.”

“I can so see that.” He chuckled. The subway lurched suddenly and you both grabbed onto the pole, coincidentally putting your hands in top of each others.

“Oh, sorry. Our hands touched.” You laughed shyly.

“Oh my God. So romantic.” Peter joked, making you blush and look into his camera.

“Stop it.” You laughed and covered his phone with your hand. He laughed as well and put his phone away.

After learn you had never been, Peter decided to the Lego Store. He’d been hyping it up to you all week over text and now that it was finally happening, he hoped it impressed you. You walked in together and Peter heard you gasp.

“Big Lego Aladdin.” You gasped and ran to stand under the giant magic carpet and Aladdin made of Legos.

“That’s the first time I’ve ever heard that string of words come out of someone’s mouth.” Peter laughed and went to stand under it with you. You looked over at him and were surprised to see he was already looking at you.

“This is even better than you described it. You need to show me everything.” You said and excitedly shook his arm.

“I can do that.” He blushed and nodded his head towards some of the sets.

Peter took out his phone to film you as you looked at everything in the store. The way you were looking around like a little kid brought a smile to Peter’s face. He zoomed in on you and caught himself staring at you fondly through the camera.

“Come on. I haven’t even showed you the coolest part yet.” Peter said and brought you over to the build your figure own station. He laughed when you gasped again and started to excitedly rummage through all the pieces. Peter didn’t bring his phone out again until you had built each other.

“Show me what you made.” He laughed from the other side of the phone.

“Looks! It’s a little Peter. He has a backpack and a beaker.” You said as you proudly showed the camera the little Peter figure you had made.

“This is Y/n. I can’t believe I found the shoes you always wear.” He said as he filmed the figure he had made of you.

“You notice my shoes?” You asked with a smile. Peter didn’t catch it because he was too busy fitting the hands of your Lego figures together.

“Look. They’re holding hands.” Peter gasped.

“Aw.” You laughed. “Us on the subway.”

“We should give them some privacy. They might not want us to hard launch their relationship.” Peter said and put his phone away.

“You’re so cute.” You laughed without thinking about it. Peter looked up at you with rosy cheeks and you gulped when you realized what you said.

“I mean-“

“Come on. I wanna take you somewhere else.” He cut you off before you could explain. He brought you to Delmar’s and ordered his usual for you to split. You sat together inside and you tried your best to remain calm. You always wondered what Peter got up to when he wasn’t at school and now you were in one of his favorite places and eating with him.

“Okay, this is Y/n’s first time eating at Delmars since he reopened. Let’s get her reaction.” Peter said as he filmed you unwrapping the sandwich.

“Wait, why is it so flat?” You laughed and held the sandwich up.

“Oh, sorry.” He chuckled. “I forgot to warn you that he always squishes it for me. But you’ll like it. Trust me. It’s much better when it’s squished down real flat.”

“Well I’m glad I now know you like your sandwiches to be squished. I would not have expected that about you.” You said and took a bite of your half before giving him a thumbs up.

“Yeah? You like it?” He asked hopefully.

“I do. Your squishy sandwich was surprisingly good.” You admitted.

“Well, I’m very pleased to hear that.” Peter smiled and phone away. “So to make it even, you have to show me one of your favorite places next time we hang out.”

“Oh.” You smiled coyly. “I didn’t realize there would be a next time.”

“There better be. I had a lot of fun with you today. How come we’ve never hung out before?”

“I don’t know. I always wanted to but you were busy running around with Ned or staring at…” You trailed off and chose not to mention Liz in case he was still hung up on her.

“It doesn’t matter. I’m just glad we’re friends now.” You said instead.

“Me too. I’ve never had a girl friend.”

“What was that?” You said and started choking on your saliva.

“All my friends in my life were guys. It’ll be nice to have a female influence in my life.”

“Oh. Girl friend.” You smiled tightly.

You hung out another hour before taking the subway back to your respective apartments. Peter walked to you the front doors of you building and you had an awkward moment where you didn’t know if you should hug or not.

“We uh, we should probably get an ending for your film.” You said with a timid smile.

“Oh, right. Thats a great idea.” Peter smiled and pulled out his phone. He pressed record and you waved to the camera with both hands.

“So, can you give our first time hanging out a rating?” He asked you.

“9/10.” You grinned and held up two thumbs.

“What? Why’d I only get a 9?” Peter scoffed and pretended to be offended.

“I had a 10/10 time but I have to deduct a point because we saw that guy cutting his hair on the subway and I was scared he was gonna throw the scissors at us.”

“Well I would’ve just protected you with my lightning fast reflexes.” Peter said simply. You smiled at him through the phone and he smiled back. He put the camera down and looked at you with a content smile on his face.

“Seriously, though. When’s the next time we’re hanging out?”

It ended up being just a few days later. And then again a few days after that.

“Peter’s first time!” You cheered as you filmed him during one of your hang outs.

“Trying boba.” He clarified. “I don’t understand this drink. Do I eat the balls?”

“Yes. Sip it slowly so they don’t all go down your throat.” You instructed. Peter took a big sip and immediately started choking.

“Peter! I said slowly!” You said as you slapped his back until he stopped choking. You quickly put the camera down to help him recover.

Your hangouts started getting more and more frequent and Peter soon considered you a best friend. Your weekends became each others and school days were often spent together in the library or at one of your apartments. You were quickly moving up the ranks in Peter’s life, just as you hoped. And the closer you got, the more Peter could not believe he had never noticed you before.

Little did you know, Peter often found himself watching the footage he had taken of you during your hang outs with a big smile on his face. He’d rewatch the videos he had taken and realize that they were slowly becoming less of a documentary and more of a highlight reel for you. He never imagined a girl as cool as you would for him so when he realized he was starting to fall for you, he quickly repressed his feelings. Little did he know, the feelings were mutual.

“Did you always make these little videos?” You asked Peter one day as he filmed you trying to balance on the curb of the sidewalk.

“I used too make them all the time but I hadn’t for awhile. I only started them again when we started hanging out.”

“Really? Why?” You wondered and stumbled off the curb.

“I don’t know. You remind me of the time before my life got crazy. It made me want to do these again.” He shrugged. You couldn’t help but smile at that information and turned around to look at him.

“So I could be the star?” You asked and posed for the camera.

“Exactly. You’re my muse.” He played along, making you laughed shyly. When he watched the video back later that night, he knew he had meant every word of that.

Peter sat in his bedroom one day and filmed himself wearing your glasses while you did homework at his desk. He looked over you every now and then just to admire the back of your head.

“Don’t break those.” You called without looking up. All you needed to hear was the sound of your glasses case opening to know what he was doing.

“I’m not even wearing your glasses.” He lied and admired himself in the camera.

“Yes you are.”

“No I’m not. But yes, I am.”

“Knew it.” You snorted.

“Hey, how come girls always smell so good?” Peter wondered. “Your hair hit me in the face when you turned too fast before it smelled like a baby in a damn meadow.”

“It’s just my womanly essence. Now can you stop looking at yourself long enough to help me with my chemistry homework?”

“It’ll be hard but I can try.” Peter dramatically sighed and set his phone down. You got yo from the desk and went over to the bed with a cheeky smile on your face.

“Incoming.” You announced and patted your elbow twice like a wrestler.

“No, don’t.” He pleaded. You ignored his pleas and jumped on top of him. He groaned and pushed you off, leaving you laying in the bed beside him.

“Ow. My ribs.”

“You’ll heal.” You rolled your eyes. “Now can you help me with number 7?”

“Oh, yeah. No problem. Can you check this email before I send it?” He asked and handed over his laptop. You handed him your worksheet before reading over his email draft.

“Oh, honey.” You grimaced just a few words into the email.

“Is it bad?”

“Good evening, Mrs. Howard. I hope this email finds you well. I’m so sorry for bothering you. I was just wondering if I could possibly have an extension on my midterm paper? No worries at all if an extension is not possible. I apologize for any inconvenience this email may have caused. Thank you for reading, Peter Parker.” You read out loud.

“What’s wrong with that?”

“After your name, you included the name of the class, the time you have it, and a description of yourself. She knows who you are!” You laughed and turned the laptop around to show him his mistakes.

“She may have forgotten.” He pointed out. “I can’t take any chances.”

“Peter, this email is way too submissive. You sound like such a bottom.”

“Well excuse me, genius.” He said sarcastically. “How would you write it?”

“Here.” You said and handed the laptop back after retyping his email.

“Oh, wow. That’s actually really good.” He said once he read your updated version.

“This is why we are such good friends. You have all the math and science knowledge in this little, beautiful head of yours-“

“Little?” He interrupted.

“You’re right. Sorry, I was just being nice. What I meant to say is that your head is huge.” You corrected. “Anyways, you have the math brain and I have the literary brain. It’s like you’re Einstein and I’m Victor Hugo.”

“Who the hell is that?” He laughed as he peaked at your mirror to see if his head was actually huge.

“The guy who wrote Les Mis.” You said like it was obvious.

“Never heard of it.”

“What? You’ve never seen Les Misérables?” You asked in a thick French accent.

“Huh?”

“We have to watch it. It’s so good.” You said and snatched his laptop back. You pulled up the movie and handed it back to him.

“Oh my God. It’s two hours and 38 minutes long? And a musical? Hell no.” Peter shook his head and pushed the laptop away.

“But it’s so good.” You urged. “We can just leave it on in the background while we work. It’s super light and easy to watch.”

“Really? What’s it about?”

“Oh, you know. Just war torn France.” You mumbled.

“No. Absolutely not.”

“But you’ll like it! There’s prostitution and con men and um…oh! And orphans! You can watch it and feel represented.” You said and shook his arm.

“I hate you.” He laughed but nearly gave in to your request just to see you happy.

“Fine.” You huffed. “I finished editing your midterm paper, by the way. You don’t actually have to send that email.”

“And here is your completed chemistry homework.” Peter smiled and handed your worksheet back.

“Aw.” You gushed. “Look at us. I love cheating with you.”

“So do I. We make a great pairing.” He chuckled as he looked over at you. You looked back at him and gulped. You hadn’t realized how close you were with your arms and legs pressed against each other as you sat together in your bed. Peter knew his sheets would smell like your perfume that night and smiled at the thought.

“Now that we’re all done with our work, you know what we should do?” He asked as he moved in closer.

“W-what should we do?” You stuttered now that he was right there.

“You know what I’ve been dying to do with you for a long, long time?” He asked.

“No. I mean, I don’t know. What?” You laughed nervously. Peter moved in even closer and right when you thought he was gonna kiss you, he reached over and grabbed his laptop back.

“I wanted to show you a real musical. Not this French miserable bull crap. Have you ever seen a little movie called Hair-“

“No. I’m not watching Hairspray with you again. You scream-sang every lyric last time and I couldn’t even hear it.” You cut him off and reached over home to take the laptop back. He pulled it away at the last second and you ended up on top of him. You looked into each others eyes and both froze in the positions you were in. Your faces were almost touching but neither of you tried to pull away. Your eyes were going back and forth between his lips and eyes and he was doing the same. Like magnets, you two started to lean towards each other but before your lips could connect, May opened the door.

“What did you guys want- oh! Sorry! I didn’t realize I would be interrupting something. My bad.” May smiled sheepishly and pretended to cover her eyes. Peter burned bright red as you quickly climbed off of him.

“May.” He said warningly.

“Sorry. But maybe lock the door next time. And use protection.”She whispered the last part before shutting the door.

“May!” He groaned and threw a pillow at the door. There was a long, awkward silence before you were even able to look at each other. When you finally did, you smiled awkwardly and kept your distance.

“That was so weird. What did she think we were doing?” You laughed nervously to break the silence.

“Psh. I know.” Peter scoffed. “She said she was interrupting but we weren’t even doing anything.”

“Yeah. What did she think? That we were gonna kiss or something?” You asked and laughed like it was the most ridiculous thing you could ever suggest.

“Us? Kissing? How silly. Imagine that.” Peter forced a laugh as well and looked to the side. The awkward silence returned and you struggled to look at each other.

“Do you think she made dinner?” Peter asked after a beat of silence.

“Let’s check.” You said and quickly got off the bed.

You didn’t discuss the almost kiss and went home shortly after. You couldn’t sleep that night because you couldn’t stop replaying the moment in your mind. No matter how much you wanted him to like you back, if Peter reciprocated your feelings, he would have kissed you.

Your pity party didn’t last long because on the subway the next day, you felt Peter put his earbud in your ear. You heard the Les Mis soundtrack playing in your ear and looked up in surprise. Peter was already filming you with a huge smile on his face.

“This guy 24601 should stop stealing bread and stick to singing. He has serious pipes.” Peter said.

“You listened to it?” You melted into a smile and held your hand over your heart.

“Yep. I stayed up all night watching lyric videos because I couldn’t understand what they were saying with their accents. It’s actually really good. I love Eponine. I just wish Marious wasn’t such an idiot. How does he not see that his best friend is clearly in love with him?” Peter asked with exasperation. You looked directly at the camera and hoped it picked up the irony before looking at Peter again.

“He’s not an idiot. He’s a romantic.” You sighed. “He doesn’t notice Eponine because he’s in love with Cosette. And course he is. She’s prettier and richer and has perfect hair. He doesn’t even see Eponine.”

“Good hair isn’t everything. Eponine is way better than Cosette.” Peter scoffed. “I’m team Eponine all the way.”

“Are you really?” You asked hopefully.

“Oh, for sure. I see why you like this stuff. These songs are awesome.” Peter said and put the other earbud in his ear. He then flipped the camera around to film the two of you sharing earbuds. As Heart Full Of Love played in your ears, you couldn’t help but longingly staring at Peter. The fact that he had stayed up late just to listen to something you suggested made you overcome with fondness for him. If he had done something like that, maybe he actually did feel the same.

“I forgot how good this album is. I haven’t listened in a while. I used to listen to it all the time back when you…” You stopped short when you realized you were about to say too much.

“When I what?” Peter wondered. You looked him in the eyes and decided that it was time to be honest. The song ended and a new, much louder one began to play in your ears.

“Back when you liked Liz. She was Cosette. I was Eponine. I was the one pining after a guy who never noticed me because he was in love with another girl. You were never mine to lose.” You admitted. Peter stared at you for a minute before pulling his earbud out.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear a word you just said. Master of the House is such a banger. What did you say?” He asked you.

“Never mind.” You smiled. “It wasn’t important.”

He smiled back before getting a text on his phone. You looked at his phone when you heard it buzz and realized he was still recording. In other words, he had just recorded you saying you liked him. Your eyes went wide but you only had a second to panic when you read the text he had gotten.

“Did Liz just text you?” You asked in a quiet voice. You felt like you were about to throw up. Years of crushing on a boy who liked another girl turned into months of pinning for your best friend and now turned into a rock in your stomach. Peter stopped recording the two of you to answer her text, which felt a little like a slap in the face.

“Oh, yeah. We’ve been talking lately.” He absentmindedly replied to you as he laughed at whatever she had written.

“You have?” You asked with a dry mouth.

“Yeah. She says Oregon is pretty cool. But she wants to come back and visit this summer to see everyone.” He told you.

“And see you?” You asked with a sad smile.

“I guess so.” He shrugged. “It would be nice to see her.”

“Yeah. Totally.” You said weakly. “So how long have you guys been talking?”

“I don’t know. A few weeks? She texted me a little while ago and we’ve been catching up.”

“That’s awesome.” You lied.

“I know. I didn’t think I’d ever hear from her again after she moved.”

“Neither did I.” You said through a forced smile. You needed to get off the subway and away from Peter before you started crying. So as soon as the subway doors opened, you bolted out.

“I gotta go. See you later.” You called to him before running through the subway station. You wiped tears as you went up the stairs and didn’t stop moving until you were in a bathroom stall at school. You gave yourself five minutes to be upset before drying your face and leaving the bathroom. It sucked, but it could have been worse. Now, Peter never had to know how you felt about it.

Peter was beyond confused by your exit on the subway but he wasn’t about to get any answers from you. You dodged his texts throughout the day and didn’t dare go into the lunchroom where you knew he and Ned would be.

“Y/n isn’t here yet?” Peter’s huffed as he sat down at your usual lunch table.

“Not yet. Actually, I haven’t seen your girlfriend all day.” Ned realized.

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Peter blushed. “And I’m pretty sure she’s avoiding me. She’s been so weird ever since this morning. Everything was fine on the subway until we got to school.”

“Well did anything happen on the subway that would weird her out? Oh no. Did you graze her boob with your hand again?”

“No. That was one time. And it was her boobs fault, not mine.” Peter whispered harshly. “We were just listening to music together and I was filming her like normal. But she could not get away from me faster once the doors opened. It was so weird.”

“Did you say anything weird to her? Girls don’t like it when you say weird things to them.”

“I know that. I didn’t say anything weird.” Peter replied as he pulled out his phone. He watched the video he had taken on the subway with no sound to see where he had gone wrong. All he saw was you looking at him with heart eyes which made his face heat up. But still, no evidence of where he messed up.

“I knew it. We were having a normal conversation about Les Mis and then I got a text from and then she ran. It makes no sense.”

“What was the text? Was it May saying something weird?”

“No. And stop saying weird. It doesn’t sound like a real word anymore.” Peter ordered. “And the text was just from Liz.”

“Oh shit.” Ned said when he heard this.

“What?” Peter wondered.

“Oh, Peter.” Ned sighed. “Peter, Peter, Peter.”

“What?” He asked again, annoyed now.

“Peter, Peter, Peter, Peter, Peter.”

“Are you gonna tell me what happened or just keep saying my name?”

“I can’t tell you. I’m sworn to secrecy. And I don’t want Y/n to put a hex on my family.” Ned said and held up his hands.

“Y/n swore you to secrecy? About what?”

“Can’t say.” Ned shrugged and zipped his lips.

“Does she not like Liz? And doesn’t want me to know?”

“Dude. Dude, dude, dude, dude. You are so close but so far.”

“So she does like Liz? Oh my God. Does she a crush on Liz? And she’s jealous that Liz texted me and not her?” Peter whispered with wide eyes.

“You’re getting colder.” Ned waved his hand. “I don’t even know how you got there.”

“That was all my guesses. Just tell me.” Peter whined.

“Hell no. I don’t want Y/n to curse my crops and make not grow for all of eternity.”

“You don’t have crops.” Peter pointed out.

“I could develop some.” Ned snapped.

“I just don’t understand what she would tell you something but not tell me. We’re best friends. She usually tells me everything.” Peter said right as his thumb accidentally hit the volume button on the video. Your confession to Peter on the subway was heard loud and clear by the two boys. Both of their jaws dropped as the video ended with you asked if Liz had just texted Peter.

“Well I wouldn’t have beaten around the bush like that if I knew you had video evidence of her saying she liked you right in your hands.” Ned sighed dramatically.

“I need to find her.” Peter said and ran out of the lunchroom. He looked around the school until he found you under the bleachers in the gym. You were sitting with your back against the wall and your knees drawn to your chest with your earbuds in your ears. When you saw Peter coming up to you, you quickly pulled them out.

“Hey.” He said and waved cautiously.

“Hey.” You smiled sadly as he sat beside you. You sat in silence for a minute as neither of you knew what to say.

“What’s going on with you? I haven’t seen you all day.” He started off. You looked at your hands to avoid making eye contact and sighed.

“Why didn’t you tell me you’ve been talking to Liz?” You asked quietly.

“I don’t know. I wasn’t hiding it. I just didn’t think it would interest you.”

“Well you have no idea how interesting I found it.” You laughed dryly. “What do you guys talk about anyway?”

“Well, she originally texted me to ask me to confirm I had an internship at Stark Industries because her boyfriend didn’t believe her when she told him she knew a guy who worked there. Apparently he’s been trying to get an internship there for years and he wanted to know how I landed mine. Then we just started catching up. I only talk to her here and there, though. And it’s only ever about school or work.”

“Oh. I thought you guys were talking talking.” You couldn’t help but smile a little when you heard the word “boyfriend.”

“No.” He shook his head. “Just regular talking. When you saw her text on my phone, she was telling me about her cat getting spaded. And I didn’t know what that meant so she had to tell me. I should’ve just googled it.”

You laughed softly at that and he did too. The tension was let out of the conversation and you could finally breathe again. When you stopped laughing, you finally looked in his eyes.

“Do you still have feelings for her?” You asked quietly.

“For her? No.” He laughed. “Those are long gone. I have feelings for someone else now.”

“Oh God. Don’t even tell me. I don’t want to know.” You groaned and buried your face in your hands. Peter looked at you for a minute until an idea came to him.

“Actually, uh, I came looking for you because I was just making another video. Wanna be in it?” Peter asked and took out his phone. You looked at him like he was crazy and could not believe he had just asked that during that moment.

“I’m not really in the mood right now, P.”

“Come on. I can’t make it without my muse.” He said and nudged you slightly. You couldn’t help but to smile at that and reluctantly nodded. He propped up his phone against the bleachers and pressed record.

“In a world where two best friends have no idea how to communicate despite spending way too much time together.” Peter said in a fake deep, gravely voice.

“Okay. Shade. That’s fine.”

“What will it take for them to admit they have feelings for each other?” He kept the voice as he looked at you.

“Wait, what?” You asked and looked at him with furrowed eyebrows. Peter smiled softly at you and shrugged a little.

“What’s it gonna take?” He asked again in his normal voice.

“I don’t understand.” You laughed nervously.

“I watched the video from before. From the subway. I heard what you said.” He admitted.

“Oh shit. You watched it?” You grimaced.

“Uh huh. So if you’re Eponine, I guess that makes me the idiot who didn’t realize his best friend was in love with him?”

“I guess so.” You said with a tight smile and still didn’t understand why he wanted to film this incredibly awkward conversation.

“You know, if I didn’t have a video of it, I never would have believed that you liked me.” Peter told you.

“You wouldn’t? Why not?”

“Because it doesn’t seem possible that the coolest girl I’ve ever met liked me.” He replied.

“You think I’m cool?” You asked skeptically.

“I think you’re the coolest. And you know, I watch the videos I take of you all the time. And half of them are just clips of you existing. So I do notice you. It just took me a second to catch up.” He told you. A smile tugged at your lips as you stared into his big brown eyes.

“You’re my best friend.” You told him. “I’m sorry I want more.”

“I’m not sorry.” He shrugged.

“You’re not?”

“I’m just sorry it took me so long to wake up and find that what I’ve been looking for has been here the whole time.” He said as he hooked his pinky under your chin and brought your face close to his.

“Wait, why does that sound so familiar?” You wondered.

“Don’t think about it too hard.” Peter whispered right before your lips touched. You kissed for the first time under the bleachers but it could have been in a palace for all you knew. The world disappeared around you as Peter slipped a hand behind your head to deepen the kiss. When you pulled away, you rested your foreheads together and laughed nervously together. It was a good nervous, a happy feeling of anticipation.

“Was that Taylor Swift?” You realized when you finally placed where you knew that like from.

“Shh. No.” He shook his head. “But yes, it was. You’re not the only one with good music taste.”

Tag List 🏷️

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#peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #peter parker fluff #Peter Parker mutual pining #peter parker x best friend!reader #spiderman homecoming #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland fluff #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x y/n #peter parker x y/n

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miiyas · 4 months ago

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ryomen, your best friend since elementary, is being petty and silent about something and he won’t tell you just what it’s about !!

wc: 644, fluff, modern au, oblivious reader, ryomen doesn’t know how to comprehend his feelings, not proof read

“you’re mad at me.”

“‘m not.”

“you are.”

“‘m not.”

you take your nth biggest sigh of the afternoon, watching as sukuna lazily scrolls through his phone while laying diagonally on your bed, long, muscular legs hanging off the edge as he uses your big hachiware plushie as a pillow.

you’ve been going back and forth with sukuna for at least fifteen minutes now about something. something that he refuses to tell you about. something he claims is nothing.

ryomen has been your best friend since grade school and you’ve told each other everything. well, at least, you have. you’ve told him about the new season of your favorite show and how it just wasn’t the same. you’ve told him about how difficult your teachers have been. you’ve gone into full rant about your new favorite song and you’ve told him of every guy you’ve liked.

you’ve long gotten used to his lack of response and the harshness of it, knowing he doesn’t mean anything. but when he ignores you, it never fails to piss you off !!

“ryomen,” you whine, throwing yourself on your bed stomach first with your head resting on your hand, your elbow sinking in the softness of your mattress. “can you please just say whatever is bothering you ?” you poke his shoulder gently, blunt nails leaving a faint mark on his skin before fading away.

sukuna leaves you with silence, unmoving spare for the glide of his thumb on the screen. your frown deepens, stretching your hand out to play with a tuff of his hair, twirling it around your finger. at this small gesture, your best friend groans and turns his head to face you, face stern and annoyed.

“what ?”

you grin slightly, tilting your head and getting your face closer to him, gentle hands now smoothing out the crease of his brows.

“was it ‘cause i took your protein shake from your house that one time ? i told you ‘m sorry, it’s just so good.”

“the hell r’you talkin’ about ?”

“oh.” your face looks like it’s paused, mouth slightly agape as the corner of your lips tug upwards. you’ve got him. you’ve got him to talk.

“ryomen,” you whine out his name again, earning an eye roll and a huff. “can you tell me what you’re mad about. this isn’t fair.”

“i’ve told you a hundred million fucking times, it’s nothing !”

“you’re frowning, though !”

“this is just my resting face. i’m resting !”

you drop your head down, face pressing against the plush of your mattress as you mumble out a muffled ‘i give up.’ sukuna’s left eye twitches slightly, your action vexing him slightly but he easily brushes it off as one of your stupid antics.

but then, just as sukuna continues to scroll through his phone, he lands on a stupid tiktok with this one stupid guy you’ve been fawning over for some stupid time and for some god forsaken reason, sukuna feels his blood boil, the loose grip he had on the sides of his phone clenching as he suddenly gets the urge to throw his phone across the room.

jealousy ? no, ryomen sukuna doesn’t get jealous. maybe zealous in his own prideful, sadistic way but never jealous. never. especially over a guy you’ve been giving goo-goo eyes to for the past month.

dark crimson eyes dart over to you, taking note of how you now silently lay on your side with your phone practically pressing against your nose, your eyes reflecting videos you swipe past and like.

no, jealously isn’t something sukuna does. but something he can’t wrap his head around is what he would do if he sees you hand in hand with another guy other than him, laughing for and with another guy other than sukuna.

jealousy. sukuna scoffs at the thought.

yeah right.

#jjk x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #ryomen sukuna #sukuna ryomen #ryomen x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x you #atlas writes !#childhood bff sukuna

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rebelspykatie · 1 year ago

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Part 1

ao3 - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

Steve kisses him on a Thursday and he takes all the air in the room with him. Eddie doesn’t close his eyes. He’s too shocked to do much of anything, except sit there and let Steve take his face in those big hands and caress a thumb over his cheek while he presses their lips together. Eddie’s pretty sure he doesn’t move at all, glued to his place on the couch, as if time has continued on around him while he’s stuck there.

They’d been passing a joint back and forth, lazily smoking as they watched reruns of some old show that Wayne liked to put on when Eddie was a kid. It’s not soothing now, like it was back then, but is disharmonious in the background, the only sound in the room other than Steve moving against him as Eddie tries to figure out what’s going on.

When Steve finally pulls back, Eddie still doesn’t feel like he’s breathing. He’s able to take in Steve’s expression before his eyes pop open, the pucker of his lips, the shine to them that could possibly be from Eddie’s mouth. He doesn’t know why he didn’t push Steve away, why he didn’t intervene, but instead let Steve have this moment. All while he sat frozen.

The expression shifts once Steve’s eyes open, turning unbearably soft. His smile is sweet and gentle. He’s probably mellowed out from the weed, but his eyes are focused on Eddie. It’s not an expression Eddie’s used to seeing. It’s close to the one he gives the kids when they’re not paying attention, but not quite the same. Steve’s eyes are raking over his face, like he’s trying to memorize the dips and grooves of Eddie’s. He squirms under the scrutiny.

“Sorry,” Steve finally says, shaking his head a bit, “I’ve been waiting a long time to do that.”

He’s turned bashful now. Another expression Eddie’s not used to seeing. His Steve is a sarcastic little shit. He argues with the kids, pulls Robin into wrestling matches that he always wins until Robin starts biting, and carries a nailed up baseball bat in his trunk. Nothing about his Steve is bashful. Except, apparently it is. And something turns in Eddie’s gut.

He’s made some fatal mistake. Took a wrong turn somewhere and now the car is crashing out of control and he doesn’t know how to stop it. He put that expression on Steve’s face and he doesn’t know how to take it back.

“Uh-how long?” Eddie asks. He’s not sure why that’s what he says. Morbid curiosity, maybe. But now he’s desperate to know.

Steve’s jaw shifts, contemplating. “Not sure I had it figured it out then, but probably since you held that bottle to my throat.”

That seems preposterous. Completely illogical. They barely even knew each other back then outside of the passing monikers slapped on them from their respective cliques in high school. There’s no way that Steve’s wanted to kiss him for that long.

“Took me a while to pick up on the clues,” Steve laughs self-deprecatingly, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “I’ve never had to interpret what it means coming from a guy, so I think I deserve a pass on not getting it for so long.”

He’s smiling at Eddie again. Not quite as bashful, more teasing, like he’s anticipating Eddie teasing back. But Eddie is still stuck on the kiss. His brain hasn’t caught up to the words coming out of Steve’s mouth. He doesn’t know what clues Steve even means.

“I’m not sure what to say, Steve,” he hesitantly says when the silence has gone on a beat too long.

“You don’t have to say anything. We could put our mouths to better use, though,” Steve says, leaning in with a devious glint in his eyes that Eddie’s only seen in passing, in the halls of Hawkins High when he tried to ignore Steve pressing Nancy into her locker and kissing the daylights out of her where anyone could see.

Eddie finally snaps out of his haze and puts a hand on Steve’s chest, stopping him in his tracks. It’s the first time he’s made any move to stop this from barreling out of control.

“Steve,” Eddie’s voice sounds strained to his own ears, “wait.”

“Sorry, was that too fast?” Steve scoots back on the couch, putting some distance between them, but not backing entirely out of Eddie’s space. “I should’ve asked if that was okay, shit.” Worry creases his forehead.

“I-” Eddie takes a steadying breath, “I don’t understand why you did it at all.”

“Why I kissed you?” Steve tilts his head to the side, that curious golden retriever look. “Because I like you.” His brows furrow. “I thought that was obvious.”

“But you like girls.” It comes out more a statement, than a question. And it makes Steve look even more perplexed, the smile dipping, becoming more muted. “I saw you with Nancy, you weren’t faking that. Unless you have, like, Oscar worthy acting skills, but I don’t think you’re capable of that.”

“I do like girls, but I also like guys.” Steve shrugs, says it so casually like he has the whole world figured out and he’s unbothered by how insane that tidbit is to just drop on your unsuspecting friend, even after you kiss them. “Robin helped me figure it out. It’s called being bisexual.”

“Yeah, I know what it’s called, Steve.” Eddie huffs, frustrated with the direction of this conversation. They’re clearly not on the same page here and he’s not sure if he should just spit it out.

“Then what’s the problem?” Steve shrinks back into the couch, tension creeping into his shoulders.

“That you think I’d want to kiss you.” Maybe it’s better to just lay it all out on the table. Set the record straight here. Eddie’s beating around the bush too much.

“Y-you don’t want to kiss me? But you’ve been flirting with me for months.”

“I flirt with everyone, it doesn’t mean anything.”

“Oh.”

And Eddie watches how quickly the light disappears from Steve’s face. How quickly the smile fades and turns into a twisted frown. Steve pinches his nose and stands up. “I guess we were both wrong, then.”

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #katie writes #angst #that i swear will get resolved #everyone just hold on ok #trust me

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blueicequeen19 · 11 months ago

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Desperate Times

Warnings: creampie, blowjob, blackmail?, camping, JJ playing hard to get

I climb out of my tent and pull the zipper shut as quietly as I can. There’s no movement from the other four tents where my friends are all sleeping so I carefully make my way to the tent on the other side of the fire pit we’d made. Beer cans litter the ground so I’m careful not to make any noice as I reach his tent. I slide the zipper up with a slow, shaking hand until there’s enough space for me to slip inside. He sits up suddenly, startling me as I quickly zip the tent shut, and revealing his bare chest.

“Get out.” JJ hisses under his breath. I shake my head as I crawl across the pile of blankets and pillows until we’re face to face.

“Go.” JJ whispers, his jaw set and his eyes pleading.

“I don’t want to.” I lean in but he pulls back so I take the opportunity to yank the thin blanket off his lap and throw my leg over his to straddle him.

“Y/N— please.” I cup his face, feeling his erection between my thighs has my brain short circuiting. Im still in my swim suit and this much skin on skin was driving me crazy already.

“Shut up and fuck me.” I bring my lips down on his in a hard kiss, plastering my breasts against his chest as I demand more. His hands grip my back, rings digging into my skin as he kisses me back harshly. I open my mouth and he wastes no time shoving his tongue in. The strings of my bikini come loose and the top is yanked free before being tossed across the tent. I pull away to suck in a breath as the heat and sensations start to get to me but JJ takes the opportunity to take my nipple between his teeth.

“Mmm.” I bite back a moan as I fist his hair, rocking my hips back and forth against his cock. His mouth was heaven on my skin as he pinched and tugged on my other nipple. When he finally releases my breasts, his mouth claims mine again as he hands grip my ass. I was so wet that my bikini bottoms were soaked. If he didn’t get inside me soon I might die.

Suddenly, I’m shoved to the side and rolled on to my belly on the blankets. Before I can react, he’s yanking my bottoms off and coming down on my back.

“You just had to do this here, didn’t you?” JJ growls in my ear, his cock pressing into my ass. I arch against him, too far gone to think of what to say.

“Is this because you want me or are you just desperate to be filled by someone?” His cock teases my entrance making my eyes nearly roll back in my head.

“JJ, please..”

“Answer me.” The head starts to slip inside, stealing my ability to speak or think as I become desperate for more but he withdraws.

“I-I want you. I’ve always wanted you.” I whisper, feeling his hands tighten over mine as his breath hits my ear.

“Then why did you let that fucking Kook touch you?” My heart slams against my rib cage at his words. I’d suspected for a while that he knew about Topper.. I just didn’t know how to bring it up.

“Because the Pogue I wanted didn’t want me.” I bite out, arching my back so the tip starts to slip back inside. JJ groans in my ear, his hands tightening on mine as I roll my hips, fucking myself on the thick head of his cock.

“Fuck.” JJ growls, jerking his hips and seating himself full inside me. I open my mouth to cry out but his hand clamps down over my mouth as he fucks me into the hard ground beneath the tent. My eyes start to roll back from how good it feels and hearing the sexy sounds he makes. My orgasm is quickly approaching when he yanks me up onto my knees, his pelvis slamming against my ass over and over again.

“Bite down.” JJ barks, throwing a pillow in front of me as he pushes down on my lower back to force me to arch more. I bury my face in the pillow, inhaling his intoxicating scent as my release suddenly hits me like a freight train and I’m forced to bite the pillow. I can barely breathe, let alone hold myself up anymore as he keeps going until he cums with a deep, sexy groan. I can’t believe we forgot a condom.

We stay connected for a long time as we catch our breath, JJ’s hands splayed across my ass as his chest heaves with every breath.

“Go back to your tent.” JJ finally murmurs, slipping out and pulling away to sit on the opposite side of the tent. I fight off the tears that fill my eyes as I pull on my bottoms and face him, his cum starting to drip.

“I don’t want to fight with John B or Sarah. Go back to your tent.” JJ says more firmly.

“They can’t tell you who to date.” I whisper, my heart threatening to burst in my chest.

“Date? You got what you wanted from me. It was good but I’m not ready to be going steady.”

“You asshole. That’s typical JJ behavior. Deflect when things get too serious.”

“I’m sorry if I don’t have it in me to wait around for another Kook-turned-Pogue to decide which side of the island she wants to sleep on.” I crawl forward, raising up on my knees so we’re almost nose to nose. I don’t miss the way his eyes immediately go to my lips and his pupils dilate but he quickly shakes it off, eyes narrowing into a glare.

“Maybe it’s your bed I want.” I whisper, sliding my hand up his thigh to find him hard again.

“Prove it.” JJ bites out as I wrap my hand around his erection. I squeeze gently, making him grunt as he hardens further in my fist.

“What do you want me to do?” I brush my lips over his, my clit pulsing with need all over again.

“Get Topper to drop charges.” JJ bares his teeth as I free him from his boxers, his cock red and glistening from our cum as it slaps against his stomach.

“That won’t be easy. He might want me to.. touch him.” JJ opens his mouth to object but I duck my head, taking him deep in my throat as I drag my tongue along that sensitive vein there. I don’t have to look up to know his head is thrown back in pleasure as his hands fist my hair. A groan leaves his lips and I squeeze his thighs in warning.

“Goddamnit.” JJ pants, yanking me up by my hair and slamming his lips over mine as my bikini bottoms are tore to the side and he’s filling me all over again.

“JJ.” I whisper against his lips, my arms around his neck as I rock against him.

“Desperate times, Y/N. Get Topper to drop charges and I’m yours.” JJ’s eyes are half lidded as he looks up at me, drunk on pleasure. I kiss him deeply, thrusting my tongue deep in his mouth while bouncing up and down on his cock. I pull back just as he leans in for more and fist his hair.

“You’re already mine.”

#smutwarning #outer banks smut #jj maybank smut #obx2 #jj maybank fic #jj maybank imagine #rudy pankow #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank x you #jj obx #outer banks x reader #blueicequeen19 #outer banks fanfiction #jj maybank #tw unprotected sex

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ofstarsandvibranium · 2 months ago

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A Happy Ending?

Fandom: The Last of Us

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: Your son and Ellie try to play matchmaker with you and Joel.

A/N: reader is 50+ years old in this fic with a 25-29 year old son! also i just wanted something cute and happy bc i miss joel...

The Last of Us Masterlist | Pedro Pascal Character Masterlist

James had been spending a lot of time with Joel. He became interested in carpentry when Ellie showed him the guitar Joel made her.

So now you barely see your son because he’s spending all his time with Joel. Not that you mind. Honestly, James is almost 30 and never had a good father figure growing up. (Blame the outbreak and decreasing faith in humanity for that). So you’re grateful he has Joel and that Joel has taken a liking to him.

But you’re still James’ mother and he’ll always be your baby.

You knock on the door of Joel’s place. You don’t wait long until Ellie opens the door.

“James, your mom’s here!” She hollers and you giggle.

You ruffle the young teen’s hair, “How long have they been working?”

Ellie rolls her eyes, “All day. Joel hasn’t even given me my guitar lesson for the day. Tell your son to fuck off!”

You laugh, “I’ll see what I can do, but he’s a grown man.” You walk further into the home and see Joel and James hunched over the dining table, each with some pieces of wood and shavings surrounding them.

You stand behind your son, hands on his shoulders, “How’s it going, boys?”

James beams up at you and you see remnants of the young boy he used to be, “We’re carving out wooden cars for Ben’s birthday.”

“That’s sweet.”

“Everythin’ okay?” Joel asks, tilting his head down to look over his glasses.

You feel your cheeks heat up under his gaze, “Yeah, just wanted to see if I should wait for James before making dinner.”

“Shit,” your son mumbles and looks at his watch, “I lost track of time. I’m sorry, mom.”

You pay down his hair, “Baby, it’s fine. I’m glad you’re spending time with Joel and not your boring mom.”

James scrunches his face, “You’re not boring.”

You snort, “Tell that to his brother,” you nod at Joel, “Always trying to get me to go to movie nights and get togethers.”

“That’s Tommy for ya. Pain in the ass,” Joel says with a smirk, “Don’t mind him though. He’s only doing what he thinks will be good for you.”

“What about you? You think you know what’s good for me, Joel?” You give him a smirk and it makes him squirm in his chair a bit.

You and Joel have been playing this game for months now. This cat and mouse, back and forth game. Flirting and teasing and then pulling back. Honestly, at your grown age, you should be tired of it, but it brought a little thrill back into your life.

Joel clears his throat, “Suppose I don’t, but whatever you think is good for you, just..do that, I guess.”

You chuckle, “Sure, Joel,” you put your attention back on your son, “So, honey, should I wait for you?”

James shakes his head, “Nah, it’s okay. Go ahead. If anything, just leave me some leftovers or-“

“Don’t worry, we’ll feed him,” Joel says, not looking up from his project.

“You sure?”

He nods, “Yup.”

“Alright. Thanks, Joel,” you kiss James’ head, “Don’t stay here too late. The old man will probably need to sleep soon.”

Joel gives you the finger and you laugh while exiting his home.

Once you’re gone, James leans in, “Soooo…”

“Don’t start,” Joel gives him a warning glare.

The younger man holds his hands up, “I’m just sayin’, I give you my blessing to date my mom. You guys clearly have…something between you two.”

Joel takes off his glasses and sighs, leaning back in his chair, “I’ve done a lot of bad things in my life, kid. And your mom? She’s pure and good and I don’t wanna taint her with my shit.”

James can’t help but scoff, “You think my mom’s pure and good? You don’t think she had to do some shitty things in order to raise me during a fucking apocalypse?” He shakes his head, “Man, I get it. You think you’re too old and tainted to have something good in your life, but after everything we’ve all gone through, we deserve good things. You deserve good things, Joel. And my mom? She likes you, really likes you. She hasn’t said it to me but I see it. I just-I want my mom to be happy and I think you can be that for her.”

“I agree,” Ellie says as she appears in the room.

Joel pinches the bridge of his nose, “Fucking-Don’t gang up on me like this.”

Ellie shrugs, “He’s right, plus you can cut the sexual tension you two have with a knife!”

James grimaces, “Ugh. Please don’t talk about my mom having sex. I don’t wanna picture that.”

Ellie rolls her eyes, “Grow up, dude!”

“You grow up!”

“You’re almost thirty and sex grosses you out?”

“Sex doesn’t gross me out! The idea of my mom having sex grosses me out! You can’t tell me that the idea of Joel having sex-“

Joel decides to break up the argument, “Okay! Okay! Hey! Hey! Break it up, you two! Jesus,” he shakes his head, “Enough talking about my sex life!”

“Or lack thereof,” Ellie mumbles causing James to snicker.

Joel glares at the two, “Enough. Nothing is going to happen between Y/N and I.”

“Because you don’t want to?”

“Because it just can’t, alright? Let’s leave it at that.” He says his words with finality and goes back to working on Ben’s birthday present.

Ellie and James give each other and knowing look and then Ellie mumbles, “Whatever, dude,” and heads back to her room.

____________________________________

There's a knock at your door mid-day. You'd just gotten back from helping out in the community garden, so you're covered in soil. Nonetheless, you open the door to reveal Ellie on the other side.

"Oh, hey! James isn't here-"

"I know, I'm here to see you, actually," she steps inside and you close the door behind her.

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah, um, Dina mentioned that you know how to bake. Was wondering if you could teach me?"

You look at her in surprise, "Really? Didn't think you'd be interested in that."

The young teen shrugs, "Think it'd be a nice skill to have. That way I can bake shit whenever I want and don't have to trade an arm and a leg for it."

You snort, "Very true, but sure. Lemme just take a quick shower and we can get started. Feel free to hang out here. Some of James' old comics and books are on the shelf there." You point to the bookshelf in the living room.

"Sweet!" Ellie heads straight to it and you rush upstairs for a quick shower.

Twenty minutes pass and you're in the kitchen with damp hair and smelling like flowers. You have all the ingredients laid out in front of you, "Okay, so first, we pre-heat the oven so by the time we're done mixing everything together, it should be ready to pop it in."

You show her how to pre-heat the oven and then guide her back to the counter, so the best method for this is to mix all the dry ingredients together in one bowl. And the wet ingredients in another bowl, then combine them."

"Cool. Got it." You give her the measurements of each ingredient, instructing her the best way to mix everything and what to look out for. Ellie's smart and a quick learner, so she gets through it very quickly.

"Fuck yeah," she mumbles to herself in excitement when she pours out the batter into the 12-cup muffin tin.

You laugh, "You've done well so far. So now that the oven is at the temperature we want, we just slide the tin in and let them cook for about twenty-five minutes."

She slides the tin in and closes the door, "So what should we do while we wait?"

"We clean all this up," you gesture to the dirty dishes and flour and egg droppings on the counter, "and wait."

"Boring," Ellie groans, but continues to help you anyway. As you two wash the dishes, she makes conversation.

"So...how's your love life?"

You cackle at her abrupt question, "My love life?"

"Yeah. You seeing anyone? Anyone catch your eye?," she leans in and whispers, "You can tell me, I can keep a secret."

You laugh even more, "I find that hard to believe considering you and Dina share everything."

Ellie scoffs, "She's my best friend. Of course, I tell her everything." She places the spatula she washed into the the drying rack, "But we're not talking about me. We're talking about you."

You hum for a moment, "Fine. I'll play along. To answer your question, no, there isn't really anyone that's caught my eye. Not sure dating is my top priority right now."

"Why not? Don't you want someone at your side before you die?"

You look at Ellie in disbelief, "Okay, first off, I don't think I'm croaking any time soon. Second, why are you interested in my love life? Did James say something?"

"No! I just noticed that you seem to be by yourself all the time, especially since James has been spending all his time with Joel."

You sigh, "I appreciate your concern, Ellie, but I'm fine. My priority is James as well as doing my part in helping this community. What I want doesn't matter."

Ellie holds back a groan because you're starting to sound exactly like someone she knows...

_________________________

James, Joel, Tommy, and several others are working on building a new shed for some supplies. James is, basically, Joel's apprentice, and follows him everywhere, learning what he can from the older man.

As they both hammer away at planks of wood set to be the foundation of the shed, James makes conversation, "So, uh, you going to the barbecue on Friday?"

"Maybe, not sure," Joel stands up straight and rolls his shoulders, "Why?"

"I'll be there...with my mom."

Joel rolls his eyes, "James," he shakes his head, walking away, but the young man follows him, "I know you said for me to drop it, but just hear me out!"

Tommy happens to walk by and smirk, "Hear you out on what?"

Joel whips around, "Don't-"

"I think him and my mom would make a great couple."

Tommy processes the words and then smiles, "I agree."

Joel places his hands on his hips and lets his head hang low. He shakes his head, "Fucking kill me."

Tommy laughs and pats Joel on the shoulder, "Come on, brother, Y/N's a great woman. She'd definitely soften up that hard exterior of yours."

"I'm too old for this shit."

"Hell you ain't. Linda and Daniel just got together and they're older than you! Never too late to find love, even when the world's ended. Worked out for me," he gave his brother a wink and Joel wanted to punch him in the face.

James sighs, "You know I do it 'cause I care about you guys, right? There's chemistry between you and my mom and I think you'd both be dumb to not pursue it. Your pride and stubbornness be damned! I just want my mom to be happy," he mumbles the last sentence before heading back to the area that he was working on, leaving Joel to stew on his words.

It's not like Joel hasn't thought about having something with you. He's definitely thought about it. A lot. And more recently now that he and Eliie keep bringing you up. But there's still that small part of him that feels like he doesn't deserve you. It took him a lot to open his heart up to Ellie, but does his heart have room for more?

__________________________

James is out on patrol, so it's just you in the house. You figured now would be a good time to visit Joel, so you do, with a basket of baked goods.

You find him in the garage working on a truck. He's hunched over the hood and you clear your throat, startling him. He jolts, hitting his head on the hood.

You hear a hiss of pain and you rush over to him, "Shit! I'm so sorry, Joel. Didn't mean to scare you!" you look at his head, making sure there isn't any blood or swelling.

"'s alright, sweetheart. No harm, no foul."

You step back, realizing how close you've gotten, "Still, I'm sorry. Anyway, the reason for me being here is to thank you."

"For?"

"Just taking James in, being a mentor and showing him the ropes on how to fix and build things. I've done my best trying to teach him that stuff growing up, but I'm not as skilled as you are. So," you hold out the basket, "made some bread and muffins for you and Ellie and, well, anyone else you'd like to share them with. Also put in some lavender honey in there I made myself." You hand him the basket and he accepts it.

Joel looks at the basket and then you, "Well. shit. You didn't need to do all this."

You shrug, "It's nothing, really. I just-I really appreciate what you've done for James. I can tell he really looks up to you. He's never had a stable male figure in his life, so thanks."

"Yeah. You're welcome. He's a good kid. You did well."

"I did the best that I could given the circumstances. But I can say the same with you and Ellie. She's also a good kid."

Joel scoffs and props a hand on his hip, "She's a pain in my ass," he pauses and a small smile appears on his face, "But yeah, she's a pretty good kid."

You clear your throat, "Well, I'll let you get back to work," you take a few steps back and Joel stops you, "Wait!" You pause and he realizes what he's done. He curses under his breath and scratches the back of his head, "Wanna share some of these over a cup of coffee?"

You softly smile, "You should share them with other people. I make these all the time."

"I wanna share them with you, if that's okay?"

You giggle and shake your head, "Alright, if you insist."

You follow him into the house and to the kitchen. He sets the basket on the kitchen island and heads to the pot of coffee.

You lean against the counter, "Still keeping your coffee plug a secret?"

Joel gives a low chuckle as he pours a cup for you and himself, "Yeah, how else am I supposed to lure you in here?" He slides you the sugar container and you pour spoonful of it in.

"You know I come by a lot because James is always here."

He cocks a brow and smirks into his cup, "That all?"

"Nah, I like chatting with Ellie too. She's funny."

Joel hums, staring at you over his coffee cup. You're avoiding his eyes, but you feel them staring at you. You mess with the handle of the mug before speaking up again, "Do you get lonely, Joel?"

"Sometimes. Why?"

"Some stuff has come up and just made me think about things."

"Like what?"

"Us, this...game we've been playing. I flirt with you. You flirt with me, then one of us pulls back. And then we start all over again. And endless cycle...does it mean anything?" You still don't look up at him, "To me, it was all fun at first. Flirting with you and you flirting back, it made me feel alive again. Then when you pulled away and distanced yourself, I dunno. Didn't feel good."

You sigh and finally look at him, "Sorry. I'm rambling. I just want to know if this is a waste of time. It probably is," you push your mug away and stand straighter, "Thanks for the coffee," you murmur before walking away.

And for the second time today, Joel stops you, "Wait. Wait, please," he holds his arm out and you pause.

He gulps and lets out a shaky breath, "To be frank, I'm not very good at this. I'm rusty as hell, but..it wasn't just flirtin' to me, sweetheart. I like you. A lot, but you're too fucking good for me and I don't deserve someone like you."

You look at him with soft eyes, slowly approaching him. You place your hands on his chest, "Joel Miller...you are such a self-sacrificing son of a bitch," you whisper before pressing your lips to his.

The kiss is slow and hesitant. You feel Joel holding back and it isn't until you wrap your arms around him that he lets go. He allows himself to have you like this.

He presses you up against the counter, rough hands digging into your hips. He presses himself into you and you moan into his lips.

He feels himself hardening at the sound and he immediately pulls away., "Sorry, sorry. Um," he steps further away from you, running a hand down his face, "Didn't mean to get carried away."

You laugh, "It's fine, Joel. You're fine."

He takes up his usual pose, hands on his hips and contemplation on his face, "So...what now?"

"Now, we see how it goes. Not only will you have James bothering you all the time, but I'll be there with him."

Joel softly smiles at you, "I think I'll be okay with that."

______________________________

When James comes back from patrol, Ellie immediately runs up to him, "Dude!"

"What? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong! Everything's right!" Ellie stares up at him with excitement.

James looks at her suspiciously, "What happened?"

"I saw your mom bring Joel the muffins we baked the other day and they went inside the house. They were making out! Our plan worked!"

He held up his hand, "Hold on, you were watching out parents makeout?"

"Ew, no! Dina and I peeped through the kitchen window and saw them sucking each other's faces-"

"Please spare me the details."

Ellie rolls her eyes, "So fucking childish," she murmurs, "but anyway we did it. Joel and your mom are together!"

"Great! Now I need to tell Joel that if he hurts her, I'll kill him."

Ellie snorts and crosses her arms over her chest, "Pretty sure he'd kill himself if he ever does. But whatever. They get their happily ever after and shit!" she lightly punches his arm and goes walking off to wherever.

___________________________

"You fucking cheated!"

"I didn't! Uno is literally a game of chance! It's not my fault you kept pulling yellow cards when blue is called!"

You and Joel watch as Ellie and James argue with each other on the floor, while you and he are cuddled up on the couch.

You lean in, whispering, "Aren't you glad our kids get along?" you ask with sarcasm dripping in your tone.

He chuckles, "Oh yeah, they get along great," he whispers back and then kisses your head.

For the first time in a very long time, Joel feels whole and happy again.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller imagine #joel miller fic #the last of us #the last of us fic #the last of us imagine

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fullfriendnerdclutch · 10 months ago

Text

Archive: Rent-a-Cop Part 1 - 3

"It’s supposed to do what…? …Are you serious Captain?” Officer Grant Johnson sighed looking at his commanding officer with incredulity.

“Johnson, remember you volunteered for this. Now if the professor’s machine works like he says it does, its value to the force will be immeasurable," The Captain typed in some more information onto the panel, going back and forth between some hand-written instructions, furrowing his brow.

“Fine… So you scanned me in or whatever, now what?”

“Just a minute! I need to finish calibrating the damn thing or God knows what it’ll do to you!” Johnson rolled his eyes but nodded, running his hand through his salt and pepper hair impatiently.

“Okay okay… Just remember we do well enough without some freaky gizmo though. I’ve put away some of the baddest guys in this city in my day…” Officer Johnson patted his gut with a chuckle. “…I suppose I have been getting a bit soft though,"

“Well why don’t we see what we can do about that?" The Captain lifted what looked to be a simple wireless microphone.

“Load profile: Grant Johnson.” The machine behind them made a small noise, Officer Johnson looked to it then the Captain and shrugged.

“Reduce age by half, increase muscle mass 300%, and reduce body fat ratio by 80%—”

The Captain cut off and gaped at the sudden change in his subordinate. Gone was the weary looking Officer with the pot-belly looking forward to an ever closer retirement. In his place was a mountain of a man, who looked half bodybuilder/half cop. Johnson just stared at the Captain.

“…What? How long do we wait?”

“What do you mean what? You’re huge!”

Officer Johnson narrowed his eyes at the Captain then looked to his arm, pulling back the sleeve and flexing his massive biceps; it must have been around 24 inches.

"It doesn’t look any bigger… definitely not 200% bigger. And what was with the command to halve my age? You trying to send me back to highschool?” He chuckled a deep, rich, masculine laugh.

The Captain stammered a moment before looking back to the hand-written notes, thumbing through them before speaking into the small microphone again.

“Recall self prior to last command," that did it. Grant yelped, looking back to his arm, giving it a small poke then looking back to the Captain.

“Holy shit! Captain! Look at me! I can’t believe it! That machine is nuts!” The Captain frowned lightly but nodded.

“Yes, yes. The possibilities are endless, but we’ll need to make sure we note any Officer’s previous self to their changed self… I think we’ll just keep this to ourselves until we can learn a bit more about it.”

“Aww– Fine… Too bad though, with this thing I’d be right back in the swing of it. All those bastards I’ve spent my career taking down would just be the beginning; I could be back on the beat full time.”

“Well, we’ll see. For now lets get you back to normal, lock this place up and head back upstairs. Don’t want anyone in the precinct getting nosy down here…”

The captain returned Officer Johnson to normal then the pair left; all without taking note of the surveillance camera silently blinking above their heads.

In the security room, rookie cop Noah Bartlett stared at the camera footage. He’d been benched and given desk duty after none other than Officer Grant Johnson had accused him of being on the take…

Nevermind the fact that he was, afterall there were several local crime bosses who paid good money for any tip or advantage they could get against the cops….

An idea slowly formed in Noah’s mind as he looked to the wall at the master security keyring and a smile grew on his face… He wondered how much they would pay for a chance to rent that machine and use it on Officer Oh-So-Perfect Johnson…

"You understand, Captain Diaz?"

The older cop replied in a dull monotone "Yes,"

"Yes....what?" the rookie replied, smirking vindictively

"Yes Master Noah,"

"Good," he pulled the machine's microphone close to his mouth and read off a little notecard he had prepared

"Captain Diaz won't consciously remember the events of the last 10 minutes or so. Captain Diaz will return to his office, wait one hour then call Officer Johnson in, and then follow the previously given instructions,"

With that, the Captain wordlessly walked out, while Officer Bartlett quickly reset the room to how it was, before hurrying back to his desk in the security room.

Rico Antonetti was one of the mid to upper level mob figures in the city and he and Officer Noah Bartlett had worked out a few arrangements before getting caught by one oh-so-squeaky-clean Officer Grant Johnson.

Noah had reached out to the mobster and informed him of the department's prototype machine. Rico was skeptical so the two worked out an appropriate demonstration.....

Precisely one hour later, Noah looked up to see Officer Grant Johnson on one of his monitors, step into the Captain's office and take a seat

"Listen Johnson, we've got a tip off about some new little bordello Antonetti has setup downtown. It might be bogus, but I need you to go in and investigate,"

"Sure Cap, let me get a team together and we'll be able to hit the place by tomorrow nig---"

"NO! Er......no, that will be too late, these places move around and we don't know how many ears Rico has in the department. If we want to hit him while this info is good, we need to do it tonight and I need you to go by yourself,"

"Uhh....that sounds more than a little bit risky, don't you think, Captain?"

"Yes, or at least it would be, if we didn't have our department's new toy," the Captain said sternly

"Oh....yeah, I guess so then. If you think it's that serious...."

"I do, let's get you prep," quickly replied the Captain as he stood up from his seat and opened the door briskly

Noah almost giggled with glee as he watched the two depart the Captain's office and head to the storeroom where the Professor had dropped off the machine. Everything was going according to script so far

"Alright Johnson, you ready?" The Captain picked up the wireless mic, flipping the machine on

"Yes Sir," Grant smiled, giving his somewhat rotund belly a gentle pat goodbye

"Load Profile: Grant Johnson." once more the machine whirred to life, humming softly and awaiting input. "Subject will recall self following this set of commands: Reduce age by 60%, increase muscle mass by 200%....."

The Captain's voice and face then seemed to go a bit slack and he took the microphone and opened the door to exit the room

"Err...everything alright, boss?"

"Yes, wait there, I need to check something,"

Captain Diaz quietly made his way down the hall to the security room, he opened the door where Officer Bartlett sat grinning

"Welcome Cap, I'll take that," he reached out, grabbing the mic and looking back to the video feed of the new, younger, buffer Officer Grant Johnson sitting patiently

"Subject will not recall self following this new set of commands. Change sexuality to homosexual. Increase libido by 300%. Reduce work ethic by 75%. Add behaviors: narcissism, arrogance, exhibitionism, bullying, domineering, perversion, and of course, corruption," Noah watched as the posture and attitude of Officer Johnson shifted. The man in the monitor crudely rubbed his genitals through his uniform pants and impatiently checked his wristwatch before noting the mirrored window in the room and stepping up to flex in front of it

"Perfect, now reduce subject employment standing to rookie, erase all experience of previous service and update it to 3 months," the stripes on Grant's uniform vanished, "Subject will continue flexing in the storeroom until Captain Diaz returns," there was no change in the cocky behavior on the monitor, but Noah knew Grant would stay like that as long as needed now

"Load profile: Carlos Diaz. Subject will believe that Officer Grant Johnson has always been as he is now and has not been changed by the machine. Subject will load in each member of the department's profiles overnight tonight and make the same changes to their recollection as well. Subject will not consciously remember the events of the last hour and will return to scold Officer Johson for being where he shouldn't be, then send him out,"

Captain Diaz silently left the security room and Officer Bartlett returned to his monitor. He watched smiling as the Captain entered the storeroom and clearly yelled something at the now rookie Grant Johnson. Officer Johnson replied by gripping his own groin and flipping the Captain off as he left.

"Now then, tonight should go on as planned,"

Grant drove down the street slowly. It was dark and while he may not have given a shit about what he was doing, he was still a cop. He saw the kid on the corner signal to someone as soon as he showed up. But that was fine, let 'em get their shit out of there, it would be less work on his part.

He parked a couple houses down from the address his tightass Captain had given him for this supposed brothel and slowly approached. From the front it looked like any other kind of shared housing in one of the city's projects

He eyed the door, strangely it was left ajar. He carefully slipped inside, having to squeeze his muscular form through rather tightly so as not to risk moving the door any further

The first floor was dark but as he peered up the stairs, he saw the second level was well lit......if anything's going down, it's up there

He thought he moved quite silently but in reality he was rushing and the house creaked under his weight with each step. When he reached the top, he saw a hallway full of closed doors, save one left half open with light pouring out of it

He crept towards it, growing annoyed at what a waste of time this was turning out to be. He paused by the door when he heard a young man speaking on the phone

"Yeah....yeah he's comin' so I called like you told me to....yeah, you're sure about this?.....Naw naw, I'm good for it.... Alright, alright, then do whatever it is you're gonna do, I'll let you know,"

The young man hung up the phone, Grant furrowed his brow at what he'd heard.....it sounded like something might actually about to go down....Looks like showtime. He stepped forward, kicking the door open and entering the room with his gun drawn

"DON'T MOVE!" yelled Grant with his deep baritone voice with that hint of coarseness from his smoking habit

The room looked like a simple one bedroom unit, hardly the sex den he was expecting. On the bed seated a rather handsome college-aged jock, he had his arms raised and was watching the police officer, but he didn't seem startled. Grant frowned and looked around the room before stepping to the man and patting him down; finding no weapon, he put away his firearm.

"We got a tipoff about prostitutes working out of this address to supply the mob. You know anything about that?"

The young jock paused for a moment looking at Grant just long enough to begin annoying him, before finally answering tentatively

"Of course Officer.....that's what I'm doing here," Grant just stared a moment......did this little twunk just admit to being a whore?

"You're a hooker?"

Sensing Grant's confusion, the young man smiled and nodded. He stood and approached the cop

"Yeah.....Rico said I was your favorite after last time, so it was my job to......cover your protection fee...." the jock's hands were a bit rough but his puppy eyes really caught his attention and radiate this submissiveness Grant cannot resist. He softly stroked Grant's chest and stomach, causing the ripped Officer to moan and shudder in delight

"Oh...oh yeah, now I remember you," Grant's stated with more conviction, his memories betrayed him as it created false imagery of the time he's sitting in the mob-run nightclub with all the male strippers dancing to tease him

The rather handsome hooker simply smiled impishly, his hand caressing lower, which caused Grant to growl in beastly burst of lust, pushing the young man back onto the bed

An hour or so later, Grant called in to Captain Diaz, the tip had been bullshit it seemed. The Captain was pissed but Grant didn't care. Meanwhile, Officer Bartlett popped open a bottle of wine when he received a call from one very convinced and very interested crime boss....

-------

Check out my spin-off from this beloved series originally made by coyote-r

More to come later this week

#male shapeshift #male muscle growth #archive #coyote-r #older to younger #criminal tf #police tf #revenge tf #rent-a-cop series #tech tf

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azurefanfics · 3 months ago

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Pairing: Dick Grayson x Reader

Word count: 8k

Warnings/tags: Established relationship, explosions, graphic description of injuries/gore, slight disassociation, angst, hurt/comfort

Summary: During an Arkham breakout, you’re tasked with evacuating a building that the Riddler has planted a bomb in. What happens when it all goes wrong?

A/N: This is my first fic I’ve written for the Batfam (and the first fic I’ve written in a LONG time). It’s basically just a non proofread, tropey, long self-indulgent mess that I chucked together because I’m a fiend for angst and love to make my man suffer. I have used a lot of creative license with the medical stuff and have just ignored the concept of realistic physics so please forgive me if it's not accurate at all!

—-

The night started out as a relatively peaceful one in Gotham. Although the two of you were normally Bludhaven birds - Nightwing and Nightingale - you had decided to spend some time in the manor following a mission gone wrong. Your husband had managed to make it out unscathed but you weren’t so lucky. He had managed to wriggle free from his bonds just too late to prevent you from receiving a nasty leg injury, which had left you benched for the last few weeks.

Dick had managed to get a couple of blows in - enough that the villain wouldn’t be a threat to the citizens of Bludhaven for a while - before the villain slipped from his grasp. But with the threat still out there, neither of you were happy with the prospect of Dick patrolling without backup whilst you were in your shared apartment injured, vulnerable and alone. The two of you had chosen to head to Gotham instead, where your beloved father-in-law welcomed you both with open arms, always happy to have more of his family under his roof.

Your husband was happy to be back in Gotham too - being in the same city made it much easier to bother his siblings. Although he visited very often, extended stays like this one were few and far between so he wanted to make the most of the opportunity to be an irritant in his sibling’s lives. Case in point - Dick was currently suspended upside down on the trapeze in the Batcave, swinging mindlessly back and forth whilst heckling his little brother below him.

“Jason. Jaybird. Jaaaaaaaay!”

Jason, to his credit, had been doing his utmost to ignore Dick’s existence since he’d stomped into the cave a few minutes prior, muttering something about ‘needing to borrow B’s shit to upgrade his gun’. He’d taken one glance at the mischievous gleam in Dick’s eyes and rolled his eyes, focusing on dismantling his gun instead of his older brother’s valiant attempts at getting on his nerves. That didn’t deter your husband though.

“Y/nnnnn” he whined, changing tactics.

“Yes, Dickie?” you respond, bemused. You love watching your husband like this - carefree and childish, doing what he loves surrounded by people that he loves - so you’d never hesitate to humour him.

“Jason’s so mean! I’m just gonna cry myself to sleep! He’s just ignoring me, its like he doesn’t even lo-”

“Am I gonna have to shoot you to get you to actually shut up?” Jason interrupted with no real heat behind his words, trying to disguise the touch of fondness in his voice with fake anger. Dick grinned in victory.

“Oh yeah? With what gun? What are you gonna do, throw a little spring at me?” he taunts, gesturing at the gun pieces scattered on the table. Jason snorts in response.

“You think I’ve only got one? I’ve got plenty to choose from, Dickface. I’d be happy to give you a demonstration."

Just as Jason started to reach for his duffel bag, the brothers’ bickering was interrupted by an alert from Oracle. The message was simple and to the point: ‘Arkham break out. All hands on deck.’

Jason cursed and turned to gather up his gear, meanwhile your husband scrambled to get down and suit up. Whilst you longed to do the same, Alfred still hadn’t cleared you to be back in the field as your leg wasn’t fully healed yet. Instead, you sighed and headed towards the Batcomputer, intending to join Alfred there and lend a hand. As your husband sped by, you quickly reached out to him.

“Be careful out there, love. Stay safe.”

“Always am, honey!” he responded with a cheeky grin. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back before you know it.” he said, more sincere this time. And with one last peck on the lips, he headed towards the locker room to suit up and join the fray.

You sat down at the secondary Batcomputer - a contingency for this exact situation - and placed your comms in your in, switching it on. You were greeted by Oracle’s familiar voice, sounding harried.

“Gale you’re online, good. There’s 3 major players out tonight - we’ve got the Joker in Amusement Mile, Scarecrow in the Bowery and the Riddler down in the Kubrick District. B and Robin ran into the Joker on patrol so they’ve engaged, but B has requested extraction for R. It's too dangerous for him. Scarecrow has released his toxin in a dangerous location - high population density, lots of weapons in the area, minimal gas masks available. Spoiler and Red Hood are en route. I’ve got N and Red Robin coming in from opposite ends of the city to get to the Riddler as well.”

“Ok. I assume Agent A is supporting B?” you asked. As you turned to see him nod, you spotted a lithe figure in black, followed by a bleary-eyed, sleep-ruffled Duke. The poor guy always seemed to get his sleep interrupted, especially when there was an all-hands call. “Signal and Black Bat are incoming. Black Bat can support B and Signal can head to the Bowery, but we need more hands there.”

“Agreed. Black Bat can lighten the pressure on B and allow Robin to slip away. Can you get him to the Bowery?”

“Yes. Can you get GCPD support as well? I can coordinate over there so you can focus on the Riddler.”

“On it.” Oracle responded.

For the next half hour you focused in on your job: getting Damian out of the clown’s line of fire, tracking down Scarecrow and sending Duke and Jason over to deal with him, coordinating Damian, Steph and the GCPD to get civilians to safety and passing on information to minimise the impact of the fear gas as much as you could. Everything was going well, with Jason and Duke in active combat with Scarecrow and Steph and Damian taking over coordination of the GCPD on the ground. It seemed like there wasn’t much left for you to do.

You had just switched over to open comms, ready to see if anyone else needed your support, when you heard a curse from Oracle.

“What happened?” you asked with urgency. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“It seems like the Riddler’s been out for longer than we thought. He’s got bombs planted across the city.”

“Shit. They planned this.” you whisper, realisation sinking in. “How many are there?”

“4 - in Burnley, Coventry, the Fashion District and Chinatown.” Oracle lets out a huff of annoyance as she continues. “I’ve got the general areas down but there’s some kind of interference in the areas so I can’t pinpoint the locations. I need eyes on the ground.”

“The GCPD?”

“They’re stretched too thin. They won’t be able to cover all 4 locations and assist in the Bowery.”

You hummed in consideration. Although things were going relatively smoothly in the Bowery, that was heavily reliant on the manpower lent by the GCPD. Damian and Steph were great vigilantes, but they couldn’t be everywhere at once. While there were other officers in the city, a majority of the forces had been directed towards the Bowery, and those that weren’t were mostly around the GCPD headquarters.

“Tell them to focus on downtown. I’ll pull a couple officers from the Bowery and send them over to Burnley. As for Coventry, I’ll handle it.” you said, sending a quick message to Steph before you stood up to get changed.

“Miss Y/N!” Alfred said sharply in protest. “What about your leg?”

“Don’t worry Alfie.” You shot your pseudo grandfather figure a comforting smile. “I might not be ready for combat yet, but there won’t be any of that. People’s lives are at stake. I can still walk and run, I’ll be fine.” You appreciated his concern but you couldn’t stand idly by while civilians were in danger - that was why you became a vigilante in the first place. You were determined to go out there. Alfred must’ve seen it too, as he met your eyes and simply sighed.

“Be careful, Miss Y/N.”

“Always am, Alfie!” you respond, echoing your husband’s earlier words before heading to suit up.

Once you got to Coventry, it was relatively easy to locate the bomb. Although the interference was frustrating for Oracle, it acted almost a honing beacon for you, leading you straight there. By the time you had found the right building, your comms were useless, unable to get signal from the outside world.

The bomb was located in the basement of a large apartment complex, clearly having been placed there to maximise the number of civilian lives at risk. Although you would’ve preferred to deal with it right away, you knew your priority had to be evacuating and getting everyone in the building to safety. Without Oracle in your ear to warn you, you had no way of knowing when the building was about to come down and you couldn’t put lives at risk like that.

Instead, you ran back up to the building lobby and yanked down the nearest fire alarm you could find. A shrill piercing noise filled your ears and, although the sound was headache-inducing, you breathed a sigh of relief - people would start evacuating.

You watched as residents began to trickle out - slower than you would have liked, but this was Gotham so it was probably the third fire alarm they’d had that week. Even so, when they spotted you in the lobby, they began to move with more urgency. Although you were a Bludhaven vigilante, you started out in Gotham and still helped out there often enough that your costume and status as a Bat was well-known. If a Bat was here, it was serious.

You began directing them further away from the building, making sure that they were safely outside of any potential blast radius. You asked a couple of them to try and get in touch with the GCPD as soon as they were out of range of the interference. Although they wouldn’t be able to provide any assistance, they would at least be able to let Babs know that the evacuation was underway.

Eventually the flow of people slowed to a stop, but you knew your job was far from over. There was no telling how many people were still in the building, unwilling or unable to respond to the alarm. You had to go door to door to make sure that every last person was out.

Your suspicions were quickly proven to be correct as you wound your way up the building, coming across a number of individuals and families who were shocked to see you. Whether it was shock at the fire alarm being real or shock at having a Bat on their doorstep, you weren’t sure. Either way, they all quickly understood the gravity of the situation and made their way out of the building as fast as they could.

Since the fire alarm had automatically deactivated the elevator, there were a couple of residents with mobility issues whom you had to help get down the stairs as well. Usually this would be a simple task for any Bat-trained vigilante, but the combination of the extra weight and the stairs caused your leg to scream in protest. Even so, you were able to deliver them to a safe area outside where other residents were able to assist them, before turning back to continue the evacuation.

Eventually you made it to the top floor, escorting the last family struggling with their young children out with a request that they inform the GCPD that the building was clear. However, even having checked the building meticulously to make sure that every last person was out, you decided to do one last sweep of the building just in case. While it might not have been necessary, you would never forgive yourself if you left anyone behind.

Your leg was beginning to bother you more than you would have liked, so you ended up limping more than running through the hallways, shouting to alert any possible stragglers. Nevertheless, you were still hopeful that you could get the final sweep done quickly. Perhaps when you were done, you could go out and check on the civilians, try to get in touch with Oracle, and then head back in to finally disarm the bomb.

While you were limping your way down the hallway, making your way out as your check was complete, you were abruptly overcome with a sense of dread. Something was wrong. Something was-

A deafening, thunderous crash echoed out as vibrations shook through the entire building, sending you reeling. The whole world appeared to shake around you as your ears began to ring. Panic seized your chest as you lost your orientation, being thrown around like nothing more than a ragdoll. You were rendered completely powerless as the forces pushed through your body, tossing you in the air before gravity brought you right back down again.

Your body hit the cold concrete for a split second, before you felt the floor crumble beneath you. You watched as the ceiling above you began to cave in as well, raining down thick chunks of concrete and debris all around you.

Instinctually you reached out, scrabbling to find purchase anywhere as you hurtled through the air. Your fingers met cold metal and you quickly wrapped your fingers around it, closing your eyes and praying that it would be enough. You cried out as your arm was wrenched out of its socket, pain lacing through your body. But even still, you endured, desperately holding on to the piece of rebar that had become your salvation.

Unfortunately, your relief was short-lived. You shifted, attempting to pull yourself up to a more stable position, when a crack rang out above you. With a low groan and screech of metal scraping metal, the piece of concrete above you gave way, taking the piece of rebar with it. Within the blink of an eye, you found yourself falling once again. Your head collided with something mid-air, causing you to see stars as blood trickled down your temple. You almost wished it hit you harder so you would at least be unconscious for what was to come, but the universe was rarely so merciful.

Instead you felt it moment by agonising moment as something pierced through your abdomen, ripping through muscle and sinew, uncaring of the organs in its path as it tore through your body. For a second, there was nothing but your own heartbeat ringing in your ears as you reeled from the impact. You just hung there for a moment, held up by the piece of metal impaled through you, dimly aware of the thick, sticky liquid beginning to drip onto the floor.

You released a shaky exhale as reality began to sink in, and that’s when it hit you. A searing, white-hot pain erupted from your stomach as a scream tore from your throat. Fire crawled up every nerve ending in your body, eating you alive from the inside out. You writhed in agony, only worsening your injury, sobbing as your ears filled with static and black dots invaded your vision.

Eventually, you managed to battle back the black from your vision as you forced yourself to recall your training from Bruce - training you and your husband had gone over a thousand times. First - remain calm. You could feel your chest heaving as you drew in panting breaths, shaking hands pressed to your abdomen. Calm. You had to remain calm.

You closed your eyes and thought of your husband holding you tight, gently rocking you back and forth as he softly whispered in your ear, remaining steadfast in his support even on the worst nights of your life. You thought of your father-in-law Bruce, with his blunt words but oh-so-comforting hugs. Of Alfred and his cookies. Of Babs and her knowing smiles. Of Cass and her kind eyes. Of Jason and Tim and Steph and Duke and Damian - of every single member of the crazy vigilante family that had welcomed you and loved you as one of their own.

Unbidden, a tear slipped down your face. Unable to summon the strength to lift your hand and wipe it, you felt it drip down off your jaw, trailing across your body and onto the cold concrete below. You watched it mingle with the blood pooled below you with a detached sense of calm. On the bright side, at least your breathing was under control.

Oh. That’s right. Remaining calm - that was the first step. What was it that was next?

Observation - that was it. You had to take stock of the situation around you. Although you felt seconds away from floating away, from checking out of your brain completely and just leaving your body to deal with the pain, you wrestled back control of your limbs and forced yourself to focus on the next step. What could you see around you?

Looking at your surroundings, you could tell that you were largely encompassed by rubble on all sides. The space you were in was fairly big - about the size of a room in the manor - but was largely shrouded in darkness, making the details hard to see. However, cracks and gaps in the rubble above you did allow small streams of light to flow in, thankfully saving you from being in pitch darkness.

For a second, you were tempted to shout - to scream as loudly as your aching vocal chords would allow. Gaps meant sound could escape, that someone could hear you. But then you realised, nobody knew you were in here. Nobody was looking for you, searching to hear a voice calling out. Nobody was stupid enough to enter an empty, collapsing building on the off chance someone hadn’t got out. You were on your own. You were better off saving what little energy you had left to deal with the situation you were in.

Speaking of the ‘situation’, the first thing you saw when you looked down was the object that had punched straight through your body - it was a piece of rebar. How ironic. What you thought would be your saving grace had turned out to be your doom. Still, in a way you were lucky. The piece of rebar had arrested some of the momentum of falling, simply causing you to sink down further on the blood-slicked steel rather than become a smear on the floor. That hadn’t saved you from the falling debris though, as you could see that you were pinned down by a chunk of concrete over your left leg.

Looking at the metal again, you could tell that it wasn’t pointed straight up from the ground, pointing at a 50 or 60 degree angle instead. Rather than a simple puncture wound, the piece of steel had created a messy tear, leaving a gaping hole in your stomach. Ah. So that’s why you were bleeding so much.

Your mind started reeling as you began to comprehend the full extent of the situation you were in. You gave yourself a second to panic - to despair as you recognised how low your odds of survival were, before forcing yourself to set your emotions aside and think logically. How could you even begin to get out of this? That was the next thing you needed to do: make a plan.

Since nobody knew to look for you, you had to make yourself visible to someone who could help you. You had to get out of there.

The first thing you had to do was pull yourself off the piece of metal that was skewered through you. With the angle of the steel leaving no clean entry or exit wound, there was no point in keeping the object in the wound anyway. You were going to bleed out either way, especially with no guarantee of help on the way. To be honest, at the rate you were losing blood, you weren’t sure if you were even going to make it that far, but you didn’t allow yourself to think about that. You could only allow yourself to focus on the next step, the task right in front of you.

What you needed to focus on was freeing your leg from the piece of concrete that was pinning you down, trapping you in place. You gave the chunk a rough kick with your good leg, causing sparks of pain to shoot from your leg and your stomach in unison. Bile rose up in your throat as stars danced in your vision.

You steeled yourself for what was to come. You needed to do this, it was the only way out. You closed your eyes tightly and kicked out again, putting as much power behind it as you could muster. This time when the kick connected, you felt the chunk shift, allowing you to pull your leg free despite the excruciating feeling of the rebar being driven further into your body. You breathed and breathed and breathed, praying for the pain to pass.

Eventually, you had recovered enough to realise that you could barely feel your leg at all. That should have been alarming, but honestly it was a welcome change since fiery hot pain was emanating from every other part of your body. Your head felt heavy and dizziness set in as you shifted in an attempt to get a better look at it. It was purpling and swollen, bleeding from a deep gash, with numerous smaller cuts littered across it. At your ankle there was a large lump, and where the skin had split you could see a hint of silvery white underneath. Your whole leg looked like a mess, and honestly you doubted that you would be able to stand on it at all.

Even still, you gritted your teeth and forced it to bear your weight for even just a second. It was just enough for you to wrap your hands around the sticky, crimson-dyed steel and haul yourself forwards, pulling yourself off the piece of metal that had pierced through you. You stood upright for just an instant before you felt yourself listing, tipping forward to meet the ground. Black filled your vision as you crumpled into a heap, concrete and dust pressed against your face as your blood dripped between the fingers of your hand that was tightly pressed against your abdomen.

You didn’t know how long it had been - long enough for blood to have begun pooling on the floor - before your vision returned and you finally found the strength to lift your head.

Amongst the darkness, you were able to see a bright spot of light in front of you - a way out! It wasn’t far - maybe about 10 metres - but in your state it may as well have been 10 miles. You attempted to push yourself up onto your feet, but your leg gave way beneath you almost instantly. You had no hope of getting out of there like that. Finding yourself on the floor once again, you resigned yourself to crawling over instead.

You moved slowly on your stomach, half crawling, half dragging yourself across the concrete, nails of the hand on your good arm scraping across the floor with a primal desperation to drive yourself forwards. Your body was singing in agony as you felt each movement scrape dust and debris into the open wound of your stomach and grind your arm bone against its empty socket. Despite the pain tormenting your body, you were still able to continue on, moving inch by torturous inch, ever closer to your escape.

Eventually, after what felt like hours, you were able to reach the gap in the rubble. You had just started to pull yourself through when the ringing in your skull got more insistent, black invading the edges of your vision. Despite your best efforts to push on, you found that your body refused to listen, refused to move another inch. It had finally become all too much and your body had begun to shut down, just close enough to salvation for the adrenaline to wear off.

You prayed that your efforts would be enough as you finally surrendered to the darkness.

—-

Dick was frustrated.

It was a mistake - a calculated risk that hadn’t worked out in their favour, that had allowed the Riddler to slip out of their grasp just long enough to detonate the bombs he had planted. Although they had got him back under their custody quickly, it was just a moment too late, so he and Tim were left waiting with bated breath to hear what their mistake had cost Gotham. Last they’d heard, the bombs had been located and evacuation efforts were underway. That had been a while ago, so they were cautiously optimistic, but you never know in Gotham.

“N. RR. We’ve heard back from the GCPD about the extent of the damage”. Babs’ voice rung out through their comms, putting them out of their misery. “3 of the 4 bombs were successfully disarmed. The 4th was located in an apartment complex that was confirmed to be clear of civilians.”

While it was upsetting that so many people lost their homes because of him, he was thankful to hear that the evacuation was complete. Dick wanted so badly to breathe a sigh of relief at the news, but something in the way she spoke made him hesitate. It was cold and toneless, focused on delivering facts only. It was the voice she used when she was forced to compartmentalise.

“O?” he asked, prompting her to go on.

“Nightingale was the one evacuating the building” she started, as distress began to leak into her voice. “We don’t know if she was clear of the explosion. She hasn’t checked in yet. There was-”

Dick stopped listening at this point, sucking in a sharp breath to try and clear the buzzing in his ears, to try and focus on anything but the dread that filled his body from head to toe. Why were you even there? You should have been resting in the manor with Alfred instead of bearing the consequences of his own stupidity. His mind spiralled with worst case scenarios and what ifs, as a pit settled in his stomach.

No! Catastrophising wouldn’t help the situation. You were a vigilante, you were a Bat - you’d faced worse odds than this before. He had to pull himself together and focus on the next step in front of him.

He took a restrained Riddler and shoved him towards Red Robin, trusting his little brother to deal with the villain while he took quick strides towards his motorcycle. He had to get to the bomb site. If he was lucky, you’d greet him with a smile and he could help lighten your load in dealing with the aftermath. If not… If not, then he had to find you.

When he finally pulled up to the site, having broken multiple traffic laws to get there as soon as possible, he began searching the crowd for you. He looked around desperately for the flash of blue of your costume, but couldn’t spot it in the packed crowd. Damn the whole family for prioritising stealth. He was about to continue weaving his way through the crowd when he was stopped by a young woman surrounded by a gaggle of children. It was times like this that he regretted his reputation as the friendly, approachable Bat, but he knew that you’d want him to stop and help.

He did his best to hide his desperation to get back to his search and plastered on a fake smile, greeting the woman.

“How can I help?”

“Nightwing!” the woman responded. “I think Nightingale might still be in the building! She helped us all get out but I haven’t seen her since and I think she might have headed back inside. I wanted to tell someone but there was no one to talk to and I left my phone inside but now you’re here and you can find her. Thank god!” the woman started rambling, panic lacing her voice.

Nightwing, for his part, had closed his eyes, fighting to regulate his breathing. There it was. The worst case scenario he had been steadfastly ignoring, all spelled out in front of him. Terror filled his body, sunk into his bones and left his knees weak. He wished he didn’t have to be strong right now. He wished he could fall apart like he so desperately wanted to, that you would be there to hold him close and help him pick up the pieces like you always did.

But he couldn’t afford to do that, not with your life on the line. Instead, he offers the woman a curt nod of thanks - too preoccupied to be more polite - before spinning on his heel and breaking into a run in the direction of the destroyed building. His eyes scanned the wreckage from afar, looking for any sign of you. He braced himself for the worst, but focused on the flicker of hope in his chest that was the only thing still driving him onwards in that moment. Either way, he promised himself that he would bring you home.

With no sign of you visible as he came to a stop in front of the pile of rubble, he began wading in to search more thoroughly, careful not to shift the piles of rubble too much just in case.

Eventually, after what felt like hours (but was probably more like a couple of minutes) of being alone with nothing but piles of concrete and his own anxious thoughts, he saw it. Peeking out through a gap in the rubble, there was a gloved hand with a stripe of blue running up the fingers. An homage to one of his worst looks, you had joked when you first revealed your new suit to him. Although he had acted offended at the time, he was now astonishingly grateful for the pop of colour allowing you to be visible amongst the wreckage.

He raced over and dropped down to his knees in front of you, forcing himself to compartmentalise his own anguish and assess the situation. You were laid out on your front, arm outstretched into the light while your body remained bathed in darkness from the rubble. From where he stood, he couldn’t see much but he did manage to make out enough to tell that you were breathing. Laboured, shallow breathing, but breathing nonetheless.

The relief was dizzying. His eyes drank in your beautiful features, thankful beyond measure to just be seeing you once again. Although some of your face was covered by your domino, he could see that it was twisted in pain. Right. He had to focus on the task at hand.

His first priority was to get you out of there. Despite beginning to crawl through the gap in the rubble, almost all of your body was still under concrete. If anything shifted or gave way above you then you would be in serious danger. Luckily, it seemed like there was enough space to pull you through without any trouble. Dick managed to hook his hands underneath your armpits and began pulling you out.

To his horror, the drag of your body left behind a wet, red smear on the ground. As you were pulled further into the light, the true extent of your injuries became clear. He paled as he observed the mess of your abdomen, cursing as he flipped you over to reveal the exit wound. He was able to spot a number of other injuries as well - a gash on the leg with signs of a crush injury, as well as a dislocated shoulder that his pulling had probably aggravated - but the most pressing issue was the gaping hole in your abdomen.

He began to apply pressure on the wound, desperate to keep as much of your precious lifeblood inside your body as he possibly could, while propping your legs up on a piece of concrete to elevate them. He tried desperately to control the jackrabbit of his heart as he reached his trembling fingers into his pouch, with one hand still applying pressure on the wound.

He quickly found the supplies he needed and pulled out his emergency trauma dressings, ripping the packet open with his teeth before pressing them to your abdomen. He applied heavy pressure, only distantly registering concern that you were completely unresponsive, despite the fact that it must’ve been extremely painful for you.

After a few minutes of applying pressure and more dressings, he was finally able to get the bleeding under control enough to be able to bring out the trauma compression bandages. He wrapped them around you briskly, pulling them tight to ensure that they were applying enough pressure on the injury.

With your wound finally somewhat stabilised, he was able to pull back and assess your other injuries. Something felt off to him as he mentally triaged your injuries. Your shoulder and leg needed treatment, but that could wait until you were back in the Batcave. He mentally winced in sympathy, remembering how you were sick of being benched and couldn’t wait to get back in the field - that certainly wouldn’t be happening any time soon after this.

It was only then as his eyes raked over your body methodically, cataloguing every detail in his mind, that he realised what was wrong. Your chest was no longer rising and falling. His blood ran cold as he rushed to press two fingers to your neck. Nothing. No, no, no! This couldn’t be happening! He cursed his own stupidity and lack of observation - how long had you been like this? What if he was too late? Why was he always too late….

In that moment, he felt like he was moving through molasses, each second stretching out to an agonising eternity as he struggled to move, to act. He crashed to his knees at your side, placing the heel of his clasped hands at your breastbone and pressing down firmly with his body weight. He had to get your heart pumping, had to do something to resuscitate you. Desperation filled his body - he was so close to getting you out of there. So close to wrapping you up in his arms and whisking you back to the manor. But instead here he was on a cold Gotham night, hands covered in your blood as he prayed to whatever deities that would listen for the chance to see your beautiful eyes open once again.

As he continued on with his chest compressions at a steady pace, he felt the sickening crack of something giving way beneath him. Fuck. He had never hated himself more than in that moment. This was all his fault. He wished beyond anything that he could swap places with you right now - that he could take all of your pain and suffering on himself and save you from it. But he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t do anything. And now he can’t even do the one thing he needed to do to keep you alive without hurting you!

He pushed down the wave of nausea that threatened to swallow him whole and instead tilted your head back, pinched your nose and blew firmly into your mouth. He had to focus and keep going. He can’t allow himself to fail. He won’t. It will destroy him utterly if he does.

“-t’ll be ok. I’m on my way. I’m 3 minutes out. You’re doing so well. Just keep doing what you’re doing. It’ll be ok. I’m on my way. I’m 2 minutes-”

Just as he was beginning to falter, as doubt began to creep into his mind, he tuned in to a voice over his comms, low, steady and soothing. He didn’t know how long he’d been blocking out the voices for, but from the rasp of the voice it was clear that Batman had been repeating the same words for a while now, trying his best to provide meagre comfort as his son's life fell apart on the other end of the line.

Clearly, whatever had been blocking Oracle’s signal earlier had been destroyed in the blast, and she had been providing updates to the other Bats, even as Nightwing failed to respond to her words. The idea of her being witness to all of his failures tonight - failures that could cost you your life - made bile rise up in his throat. Maybe if he had actually been listening, he could have got to you sooner.

He shook his head and refocused on his chest compressions, even as his strength faltered. He couldn’t afford to be distracted or tired. He had to hold out a little bit longer - just 2 minutes, Batman had said. He could do that. With your life on the line, he would do it a thousand times over if he had to.

Even still, when the lights of the Batmobile pulled up beside him, he almost broke down in relief. Holding back a sob, he called out for Batman and when the black cloaked figure made it to your side, he finally allowed himself to collapse and shatter completely. His dad was here. His dad would save the day.

—-

You rose to awareness slowly, reaching through the fuzzy haze to pull yourself to consciousness. The first thing you registered was a faint monotonous beep followed by the woosh of pumping air. Feeling the weight of an oxygen mask on your face, you heaved in a deep breath - what felt like the first one you’d been able to take since the explosion - and finally eased your eyes open.

You stared up at cold, damp rock which stretched far above your head. You were in the Batcave then - in the medical area, presumably. Glancing down, you saw the extent of it all.

Tubes came out of your hands, your arms, your thighs, seemingly everywhere. Down on your leg you saw a row of neat stitches, caged in by metal pins which snaked around your entire lower leg. You were covered in more bandages than you thought were possible - stark white criss-crossed across your entire centre and yet more white was wrapped around your arm, while a sling held your shoulder securely in place. You reached your good arm up to feel the stitches on the side of your head, wincing as they felt tender under your touch.

At the first sign of movement, Dick bolted upright from where he was sat, hunched over at your bedside. He drank in your presence greedily, as if trying to convince himself that you were real, and not simply a cruel trick of his mind.

“You’re awake! How are you feeling, love?”

You paused to take stock of your body for a moment. By all means, you felt better than you had any right to feel. Sure, it hurt like a bitch, but it was nothing like the chorus of agony that you expected to be met with. It was probably because Bruce kept the Batcave stocked with the good stuff - that would explain the faint floaty feeling that you couldn’t shake off.

You unstuck your tongue from the roof of your mouth, wetting your lips before responding.

“Feelin’ great! How’re you doin’ tho?” You asked, offering him a smile as best you could behind the oxygen mask. Although your words slurred, the sentiment behind them was sincere.

Dick looked exhausted, like he hadn’t slept in days - perhaps he hadn’t. Even when he knew he would be in the way, he found it difficult to tear himself from your bedside from the moment you had got back to the Batcave, he couldn’t bear it. Thank god for the Batcave being just as stocked as Gotham General - there would be no way to ensure your identity was safe in the hospital so he was thankful you could be treated at home. That also had the added bonus of him being able to stay by your side the whole time, rather than being constrained to visiting hours. However, that naturally meant that he hadn’t got much sleep over the last few days, aside from a couple naps in the chair he was currently sat in.

Instead, he watched on anxiously as Alfred, Leslie and Bruce had worked tirelessly to save you. They had burned through their entire stock of blood in the Batcave trying to get your heart pumping again, and even then it wasn’t enough. Luckily, Dick was a compatible blood type and, desperate to help in some way, he had jumped at the opportunity to give up his blood for you.

Whilst the two of you were hooked up together through an iv, the eldest three continued their work to get your stabilised. At one point, you had even needed intubation as your lungs failed you. The three of them worked hard to examine and stitch and mend until they were finally able to pull you back together in one piece.

Dick let out a shaky exhale as he finally received irrefutable proof that you were alive, that you were going to recover.

The tension that had him wound up like a spring the last few days, had him replaying every last moment in his head, had finally released and he collapsed back into his chair like a puppet with its strings cut. Your blood had haunted him these past few days. It clung to his skin even as he scrubbed himself clean over and over. But finally, seeing you whole and on the road to recovery, he felt his sins wash away in the wake of your smile

“I’m fine. You don’t need to worry about me.” he said quickly, before wincing at how short he was being with you. He never wanted to take his turmoil out on you. “Careful-”

At his tone, you began to ease yourself upright in bed to get a better look at him, suppressing a gasp of pain as your abdomen tugged in protest.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, your eyes searching his for any hint of how he’s feeling.

“What’s wrong? What’s wrong?!” he started, a note of hysteria creeping into his tone as he fought without success to reign his emotions back in. “You’re here, stuck in a hospital bed and it’s all my fault! You’ve been out for days - we weren’t sure if you would ever wake up. I’ve never been so terrified in my life. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t bury another loved one - couldn’t bury you. I just- I almost lost you, and it’s all because of me! I’m sorry. I’m so sorry” he sobbed.

“Shh Dickie, love, it’s ok. I’m alive.” you cooed comfortingly. “Why on earth would you think that it’s your fault?”

“I was in charge of dealing with the Riddler - it was my responsibility. I was the one who took the risk that let him escape and detonate the bombs. And when I came to find you, I was almost too late - your heart stopped and you could’ve died all because of me. I screwed up, and you got hurt because of it.” he muttered miserably.

Instead of responding, you shifted over to the side and patted the space next to you, knowing that your husband needed more than just words to snap out of his spiral.

“C’mere.” You invited your husband up on the bed, and watched as yearning and concern warred over his features. Your husband had always been a tactile person, and you knew that it was exactly what he was in desperate need of in that moment.

“I can’t! You’re hurt! I don’t want-”

“It’ll hurt me more if I can’t hold you right now. Just get over here.” You cut him off, knowing that it was something he so desperately wanted and needed, despite his protests.

At your insistence he sighed, recognising a losing battle when he saw it, and carefully clambered up onto the bed. You wasted no time in wrapping your arm around him cautiously, making sure that none of the tubes or wires were tugged. You wished you could lay his head on your chest, but with your other arm in the way you simply settled for making sure that the pulse point at your wrist was free for him if he needed reassurance. You did your best to one-handedly wipe his tears as he sobbed into you.

“Shhh, listen to me for a second, ok honey?

The Riddler did this to me, not you. He is responsible for his own actions and the consequences of them. You don’t need to martyr yourself - and I know you were doing that - over this. Let the blame sit with the person who is responsible, no-one else. You did your best with the information available to you.

More importantly, you saved my life. You came when no-one else knew to. You looked after me and got me back here and kept me alive. That is worth so much more than whatever mistake you blame yourself for. None of us blame you for that mistake, but I am so incredibly thankful for everything that you’ve done to save me. I just need you to know that.”

You desperately hoped that he would take your words to heart - that he would stop taking on the weight of the world on his own two shoulders. At his wet sniffle you continued:

“The last few days must’ve been so hard for you, right? Thank you for saving me, for pushing through even though it must’ve been horrible for you. You don’t have to be strong anymore, you can let it all out. I’m here.”

You knew your husband’s tendency to set aside his emotional needs in the face of any mission or duty, and you needed him to know that it was ok to fall apart - that you would be there to catch him. Something anxious in your chest loosened just a fraction when you felt him lean into your shoulder, tears dampening your neck as shudders wracked his body. The thought of him bearing that burden all on his own for so long made your heart ache. You wished you could wrap yourself around him and rock him back and forth, but you settled on nuzzling your head into his and whispering soft reassurances whenever you could.

Dick, for his part, was clinging onto you like you were his lifeline. Even when facing the storm of his emotions, you were his anchor - the lighthouse to guide him home. He was so immensely grateful that you were here, whole and in one piece. But he was also so, so tired - filled with a bone-deep weariness from trying desperately to hold himself together for so long, for his family’s sake, your sake and his own sake. Finally given the chance for catharsis, he felt himself fully fall apart under your watchful protection.

As his tears slowed to a stop, he was filled with a rush of affection and gratefulness. He would never stop being in awe of you. Even though you were the one in the hospital bed, the one with your life clinging to your lips just days before, still hopped up on all manner of painkillers, you still found the strength to be there for him and comfort him. He didn’t know what he did to deserve you but he was immeasurably thankful to have you in his life.

He shifted to wrap his own arms around you - careful not to disturb your injuries - and kissed the side of your head, whispering into your ear.

“Thank you. Thank you so much for being alive. Thank you for always being there for me and looking after me, even though you must be hurting as well. I love you so so much.”

“I love you too.” you replied, heart feeling so full that it could burst, before snuggling down deeper into his arms.

Even as your in-laws trickled into the room, bringing with them well-wishes, laughter and joy, Dick simply stayed by your side, holding you close and silently vowing that he would always be there to look after you and protect you from ever being hurt like this again.

191 notes · View notes

16ferrari · 2 months ago

Text

War wounds (1/2)

ꔫ pairing: thunderbolts x reader, little bit of Bob x reader.

ꔫ summary: back from a mission, the team needs fixing up. luckily you’re there for them to help them be put back on their feet

ꔫ warnings: mentions of blood, light pining between Bob and reader, petnames, mentions of wounds, mental breakdown, fluff/hurt, some foul language. Reader is affectionate with the team. Inaccuracies of medical care because i suck at writing about it, but i tried my best. Terrible ending. This is also long as hell. edited but maybe some error’s missed because tumblr was messing up.

ꔫ a/n: praying this doesn’t flop, I’ve helped too hard on this 🙏 anyways I loved writing this and I have a LOT of thunderbolts fics coming out!

You stood by the elevators anxiously pacing back and forth, hands clutching onto the med bag that hung around your shoulders tightly. You hated this part, hated when they were gone Longer than usual. Hated seeing them come home bruised, bloody, tired or some sort of bone broken. But it was your job to see them broken, only to be patched up and put back together by you.

“It’s not good when you’re like this” bob, who was left behind while the others fought wars and battles, suddenly spoke softly from behind you. He came to stand beside you, a gentle hand stroking your arm in comfort.

you sighted, running your fingers through your hair, “i know, but they’ve been gone longer than usual” your voice came out unusually low and sharp. Bob nodded in silence, he knew you were more than beyond worried, probably more than him, because he knew your history with them went way more back than him and them.

Bob dropped a arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. “Maybe, they stopped to get groceries”

bob tried to get you to smile, but whined in embarrassment when it didn’t linger around long for it to hit your stressed and anxious head. So instead of saying anything else, bob stayed there with you, holding a gentle hold on your body, in hopes it might ease some of your stress, which it did. You felt a sense of calmness that time he held you, his touch was warm and gentle kinda like holding a little heater.

He kissed the side of your head, “they’re okay” he whispered into your ear. You nodded throat becoming tight with tears that wanted to fall down, but you swallowed then up and put on your best brave face.

It wasn’t easy, this job. Before you were recruited to work in the tower, you had worked at a hospital, a hospital that was near the tower and sometimes when a injury wasn’t that serious, the fighting hero’s would stop by just for a quick patch up and they would leave.

Over time, you saw and helped than regularly, they talked with you about their wars stories they were allowed to share and some stories about their own lives, separate from their line of work, whether they were true or not you listened and heard them. Loving the fact they were comfortable enough to open up with you.

Eventually though, they stopped coming to your hospital and were fixed up at home by someone else. until john had come to your place of work and complained that the person, who fixed him at the tower, messed up his stitching and probably had a infection, which he was right, he indeed had a real bad infection, but with the right treatment and medication he was good as new.

You thought that was the last time you would see him, seeing as they hired somebody else to take care of their wounds. But to your surprise that night john had stopped by your hospital he left a note on the hospital bed, call this number, we would much prefer you helping us and not a random. You were suspicious of the note, but the many nights you spent fixing their wounds, making you laugh, even going as far as to bringing you lunch from time to time just to see you, the suspicions you had were thrown out the window and you called the number.

And now, three years later, many patching them up and laughs later. You had a whole floor to yourself, a little hospital, you would put it. You even hired a couple doctors and nurses you trusted, but the team still refused their help and went directly to you when they needed patching up. You would scouted them about that, saying you couldn’t stand to see them basically standing in a line waiting for one another to get done with you so they could be next in line to get ‘healed’ by you, as they would call it.

Now, The mission they were assigned to was supposed to be simple, stop the bad guys, get the important information needed, and get out.

However That was four days ago when they were assigned to the mission. Within those four nights you tossed and turned around on your bed, a nasty feeling in your stomach that something went wrong.

So when Val stopped by your floor and told you she got in contact with them again after going radio silence for those last four days, you immediately felt a relief fill your body, but it was replaced with those stress and anxious thoughts, that prevented you getting a good nights sleep, when she told you they were more than beyond bruised, cuts, and scars.

In her words, “it’s a miracle they survived” she chuckled as he walked out. You wanted to punch her for that, and you would have, if it wasn’t for bob who grabbed on your bailed up fist, shooting you look that said just leave it alone.

The silence that filled the room from Bobs failed joke, was too much for you to handle. So when You dropped your head on his shoulder, you decided to add a light humor to the dead silence “we needed milk, maybe they stopped for that” you took a peak at him and saw a smile spreading across his face. You both broke out in a light laughter.

“Yeah, we did, john used the whole milk carton last night, “ he paused for a moment his body shaking as a laughing filled his stomach, “trying to make cookies for the guys’’ you looked at him funny, john walker trying to bake, that was new.

“John, baking?’’ Your head fall back a loud laugh erupting from your mouth, “oh, i would have loved to see that”

Bob wiped the tears that filled his waterline from the laughing, “imagine him in a apron, baking”

“God that would’ve been a sight to see” your continued laugher was covered by Bob pulling you back into his side, his arms wrapped around your back holding you place as you both stood there in front of the elevator waiting for the team to come back.

Once the laughter died down, you full came to the realization that you were embraced by bobs touch and warmth, “thank you, for this”

Bob hummed, pulling away and staring into your eyes. “Somebody always needs a little laughter to cope with the bad stuff that surrounds them” you nodded in a silence agreement.

The staring contest between you two broke, once you heard the elevator start moving, you looked at the number above the elevator doors and saw it was going up towards your floor. “Shit, they’re back” you awkwardly cleared your throat and straightened up your back immediately putting your gloves on, opening your med-bag just in case.

Bob snapped out of his glaze and looked around to call for help, but panicked a little once he saw it was just you both on the floor alone. ‘’shit, w-what can i do, y’know, just in case” Bob caught the gloves you threw at him and put them on.

You grabbed onto his arm and quickly pulled him to stand put by the operating table, where you had already cleaned the table and put fresh sheets down. “Stay here, and I’ll guide you if someone comes to you”

Once those doors opened, you stopped for a second and took in a sharp breath. They looked horrible, more horrible than you’ve ever seen. They were out of breath as They held each other up as best as they could.

They walked off the elevator path and headed straight to you. “Fuck” you said under your breath as you walked up to john, who was holding up Bucky. “Shit where’s his wound” you threw bucky’s good arm around your neck and lead him to the operating table.

John hunched over, hands on his knees as he caught his breath. “Side, Did my best at patching him up” john spoke breathlessly, you took a quick peak at him and saw the tiredness and hurt in his eyes.

Each member of the team walked to the empty beds falling on them with cries and groans.

“Okay, you did good. Follow bob and go sit down.” immediately bob appeared by your side and walked john to the different hospital bed that were ready to use.

You picked up scissors and cut open Bucky’s shirt, there a white bandage covered his side like john said. You slowly pulled the bandage down and saw the pretty bad stab wound to his side.

“Damn” you muttered. You were glad the stab he’d gotten didn’t hit any major arteries , or else he might not have made it because of were he was stabbed at.

Through his groans and gurgles, Bucky spoke with a pained voice. “Hows it look, doll?” You rolled your eyes at him and continued working on clearing the wound just enough for you to stitch him up.

“Pretty bad, buck” he cursed you out as he felt the head of the needle pinch his skin, “not nice”

He sent you an apologetic smile and whined in pain, “doesn’t exactly feel good”

You continued fixing his wounds, gave him medicine to help his pain and soon enough he fall back on the bed comfortably closing his eyes finally chasing that exhaustion sleep he’s been needing.

You took one last look at him before walking to the next rooms.

“Where’s your guys wounds at” you put on a fresh pair of gloves and watched as Ava lifted her suit with a shaking hand and showed you her big cut at her side that met her hip-bone, Next yelena showed you her back, you whined in response to the massive damage done to her back, some cuts and some burns, the burns, your eyes got wide with concern and curiosity but she sent you look that simply said don’t ask.

alexi waved you off like the big tough old man he was.

“Injuries not that serious” the girls and john groaned in response from their own beds.

“He was stabbed in the leg, got maybe some glass pieces in his hands.” Yelana glanced at her dad with an angry look for trying to get of getting help, again.

“Okay.’’ you muttered under you breath and looked over to john, who was just staring at the ceiling, hands clasped together over his chest like he’d just been put in a casket, “john, you good, over there?!” You yelled standing beside Ava’s bed attending to her wounds.

John gave you a thumbs up, “good doc, just resting my eyes” you shook your head at him, the rush of adrenaline flowing through your body seeing him like that, going away a bit, just a tiny bit.

“Don’t fall asleep john, might have a concussion that i Need to check You for.’’ John hummed throwing another thumbs up. You sighted frustration setting in, and the sweat starting to cover your body wasn’t exactly fun to combine with it. “okay, bob, come’’ bob immediately approached your side again, looking lost, fumbling with his fingers nervously looking between the injured team.

You noticed that and grabbed his shoulders gently, “Bob you good to work”

Bob nodded, but you needed more ensuring than that, “speak bob, please’’

“I-im good, what do you need’’ he looked a little more relaxed than before, so you pointed to where yelena was laying down at on her side.

“Yelena’s got some cuts and burns that are pretty bad, but shes gonna be fine’’ you saw a reflection of relief leave his eyes at you telling him she’ll be okay, “there’s some medicine in the med cabinet that i use for cleaning burn wounds, go get that, and get her some pain medicine, she’s gonna need it’’ he nodded to the words you told him and before he could fully walk away you grabbed his hand pulling back towards you.

“You remember how I taught you to clean wounds right?”

he nodded, but saw your face. “Yes I remember’’ he confidently said.

“Okay, now go stitch her up and come back to me when your done”

By the time you were done patching up Ava’s wounds, which she gave you many curses and insults for fixing she was almost as good as new. you left her alone to get rest and wandered over to john’s bed. You hissed looking at the dried up blood on his head, and the pretty big cut that the blood was coming from “What’d you get hit with, walker” you carefully inspected the cut.

“A pretty big rock. Doc’’ he spoke way too cheerfully making a light smile appear on your face, despite the insane amount of bloody towels and rugs surrounding you.

‘’do you feel nauseous, dizzy in the head, can’t see straight’’ john nodded to all those words you said, “okay, then you’re probably concussed, the cut on your head isn’t too big, and you have a few more cuts across your, well, whole body, that I’ll need to clean, can you take off your shirt’’

John scoffed playfully , “geez at least take me out first’’

You gave him a stern look, “john..’’

He lifted his shirt above his head and tossed it to the side. Once you got to work on cleaning and patching up those nasty cuts, bob approached you again, “she’s all good, what can i help with next” he looked at john and gave him a light smile which john gave back.

“Doing good, Bob’’ Bob muttered a thank under his breath and looked away from him.

“Okay, alexi has a pretty nasty cut, can you finish up cleaning john, and I’ll go patch him up’’ you looked at bob and handed him the cleaning kit you were using for john

“Y-yeah, of course’’ you raised your eyebrows at his sudden nervousness behavior, but you understood his shyness when it came to john.

You patted his shoulder as you walked away, “you got this’’ you whispered as you walked passed him

“Alexi, dude do you feel” alexi gave you the middle finger a smile lingering on his face at your stupid question.

“Well, I’m hurting’’ you hummed and wasted no time in getting him all fixed up.

“Thought you didn’t want my help” you joked

He laughed loudly, “pains getting worse”

“This mission was intense, huh?’’ He whined as you dabbed rubbing alcohol on his wounds. “never seen you all this badly hurt’’

He sighed, mouth opening and closing debating on whether he should tell you what happened on the failed mission.

“You don’t have to tell me” you spoke softly, knowing he was the main person out of the team that didn’t like scaring you with the horrors and pain that came with the job.

When he opened his mouth to speak he kept it simple and lighthearted, not wanting to go into fully detail then he needed to.

“everything that shouldn’t have happened, happened. We got trapped underground no way to contact help” he paused momentarily. Not longer whining in pain even when when you opened his wounds on his hands to pull out the big glass sherds that were stuck deep beneath his skin.

‘’They tortured us for information that we were supposed to get from them’’ he blinked slowly, memories flowing from behind his eye’s making a glossy look fill them.“ bastards used something on us so we weren’t the strongest people there” he finished off clearing his throat trying to fight back those memories.

You were left stunned and silenced. After that You just carefully attended to his wounds in pure silence not wanting them to suffer anymore from you trying to pride information out of them.

You finished up patching him up and softly played with his hand, a single tear fell down as he closed his eyes to finally get sleep.

Your heart ached for them, and you didn’t know to help them out instead of attending to their wounds.

“See you getting lost, sweetheart’’ john spoke from across the room, still getting treated by bob. “Nothing you could have done, we’re re the fighters, we’ll move along peacefully and forget this ever happened’’ you crossed your arms as you walked back over to his bed, standing right beside him.

“Been here for three years, almost four. never get used to seeing ya’ll come to me all bruised and hurt”

He used his good hand and played with the ends of your hair, something he said he used to do with his sister when she was young and she couldn’t fall asleep. “It’ll take a long time, y/n. But just remember, we’re tough and strong. We will always come back’’

You nodded, he was right and you needed to start believing that.

Once bob had patched him up, the very long and bloody night came to an end. Everybody was patched up and sleeping or watching some tv. You checked on them on last time before excusing yourself to go to the little kitchen your floor had, for a break, a break away from the injured heroes, a break from the bloodiness, a break from seeing the people you cared about so much hurt and broken.

You poured yourself a glass of water and sat down on the barstool, head in hands and deep breaths leaving your mouth. “You okay” you jumped looking behind you to see bob standing there still in his bloody clothes, which you told him he could change out of already, but like you he hadn’t gotten to that yet, seeing as he double checked everyone, like you. Making sure they were okay and no more blood was spilling from their wounds.

“Shit, you scared me” you patted the barstool next to so he could sit down, “I’m fine, nauseous and tired, but fine. How about you?” You saw a dead stare in his eyes, confused, tired, lost.

“How do you deal with this” he played with his hands that were on the counter in front of him.

You shrugged, “still trying to figure that part out. For now, i just shove it to the back of my head and hope to forget it”

Bob looked at you with concern, “isn’t that somehow making it worse, by not dealing with it firsthand?”

Again you shrugged, “i cope with things wrong, i guess’’ you laid your head on his shoulder, beginning to fumble with your hands the same way he does. “Also, i think I picked up quite a few habits from someone when it comes to coping with stuff” bob looked at you messing with your hands, and also saw that you took in a habit of biting your nails. Two of the habits you scouted him for having and doing.

He grabbed your hand, observing the now ruined skin around your nails. “Interesting”

“Shut up” it went quiet for a moment. Just the two of you enjoying the silence and the comfort of holding one another after the bloody day you both experienced.

“Thank you for your help today, you did good bob.’’ you looked at him only to see him staring at you already. “Couldn’t have done it alone”

bob’s face flustered red, he broke eye contact with you, the kitchen cabinets in front you suddenly looked very interesting. “I think you could’ve” he spoke low and slow. “You’re amazing at what you do, y/n”

now it was your face that beamed red. “Thank you bob” you said, standing up from the barstool quickly. A bad (good) ideal formed in your head, you leaned down and placed a quick kiss to the corner of his lips and made a run for it.

“Hey you cant do that!’’ Bob called out, but you were long gone behind the glass doors where the injured hero’s were at.

Your heart was beating fast and uncontrollably. “Shit” you ran a hand through your hair, stomach getting sick with butterflies. You shook your head, hoping to forget you did that and walked over to Bucky who was now stirring awake.

“How you doing buck?”

Bucky cleared his throat a grunt leaving his lips as he sat up a bit on the bed. “Feeling like i got stabbed” you chuckled, placing a hand on his covered wound making sure blood didn’t leak through the bandage.

“Well, crazy news flash you did” you joked back.

“How the other’s?” His joking voice was gone and replaced with concern.

You sighted, crossing your arms as you leaned against the pillar, “in bad shape, girls suffered major wounds, stab wounds to be exact, but they will be fine with basic medical care, john has a concussion, but he’ll recover fine, same for alexi’’ Bucky exhaled sharply, his body relaxing comfortably on the bed.

“And you?” You titled your head confused, “how are you feeling?, doll”

You shrugged, “fine, used to this already” you lied through your teeth and Bucky saw that.

“You’re not” he spoke with confidence. He patted his bed so you could sit down beside him, which you did.

“I’m not, but I’ll get use to it eventually” your hair fall down as you looked down at the bed. He pushed the fallen hair behind your ear, and gilded his hand down to your chin pitching it so you could look at him.

“It’s a tough job, deadly even. But you know we’ll always come back” you nodded, it was true, you did need to start believing that because they were strong, way stronger than you. And were professionals, they knew what they were doing, knew how to fight, kill and survive. But considering they were the last family you had standing strong it was hard for you not to feel a Sickening feeling when they went out to fight battles nobody would ever know what its like to fight.

“Always gonna worry about ya’ll” he picked up your hand, placing a kiss to the back of it. “You guys are my family”

His eyes gleamed with understanding and love. “I know doll’’

You moved his hair from his eyes and leaned down placing a kiss to his temple. “Try to get more sleep buck, you need it” he looked at you one last time before closing his eyes again letting sleep consume him.

You got up from his bed and walked out his open, quietly closing his door. You walked room from room checking on the other hero’s, making sure they were safe and good. Once you saw they were okay, you shut off the lights on the floor and quietly walked to your room.

You sighted as you sat on the edge of your bed. It was quiet. Way too quiet. You could hear your racing thoughts from which corner of the room, you covered your ears hoping to make those thoughts quiet. But it was no use, you could still hear them.

Your vision soon became blurry, your normal breathing turned to deep shallow breaths that hurt you to breath. You put a hand to you chest clutching your shirt, “fuck, fuck” your chest soon became tight, like somebody had put a big rock on it. “Fuck, it hurts” you didn’t know who you were talking to in the very dark room. But it was probably to the voices that wouldn’t shut up in your head.

Tears started to leak down your eyes that you couldn’t control, and soon enough you had curled into a ball and cried out into your knees. it was too much, too painful, too heartbreaking. The brave wall you put on to your family had came down and you couldn’t stop it.

in the mist of your breakdown you didn’t hear bob’s voice calling out your name, not until you felt a warmth of a body pulling your shaking and crying body into their embrace. You knew it was bob them.

“It’s too much” you finally admitted out loud to him. “Pretend i can handle it, but I can’t”

He softly stroked your hair, his other hand sliding up and down your back. Your tears stained his shirt but he didn’t care he held onto you until your body stopped shaking and soon your tears turned into dried up ones, the only sounds you made were sniffles.

“It’s okay to break down, its what keeps us strong and keeps us from going insane’ he whispered into your ear, “without breaking down we would lose ourselves, make bad decisions, have bad thoughts. So don’t think you’re weak for this’ he gently cradled your face, your red and puffy eyes faced him.

“You help them daily, help them get better, see parts of them your not supposed to see. But you do, you help them get through their pains and sorrows” bob moved you the hair that stuck to your face from crying. He leaned forward pressing his forehead against yours. It finally went silent, just the sound of your heartbeats were the only sound you could hear.

through a rough and tumbling voice you softly spoke, “thank you bob” he knew you meant that sincerely.

He nodded pressing a light kiss to your forehead, “don’t have to thank me”

“You need to change.” He leaned back and took in the sight of you still in your bloody clothes.

Vision still blurry you looked down grabbing at the hem of your shirt, thumb brushing over the dried up blood. “Yeah i do” your voice was barely above a whisper. Bob took in the fact you weren’t doing anything to get rid of the clothes so he got up from your bed and wandered over to your dresser, he pulled out a pair of shorts and a tank top.

Walking back to you, he took ahold of your hand and guided to the edge of the bed. “I’ll turn around while you change”

You grabbed the clean clothes from his hands and watched as he turned around, eyes closing tightly to give you more privacy. You pealed the clothes off your body and threw them to the side, you quickly slipped on the shorts and tank top.

You tapped bob on his shoulder, “you can look.”

Bob let his eyes wander over your frame making you go shy, “that looks better” you hummed agreeing with him.

Another staring contest formed between you, waiting for one another to make a move but the long dreadfulness of a night made you break the eye contact which bob wouldn’t admit out loud but he was disappointed, that is until you spoke up in your shyfulness voice, “will you sleep with me tonight?, don’t feel like being alone”

His heart started beating fast when you took his hand and guided him to the side you wanted him to sleep on. He happily got underneath the covers and waited for you to join him. When you did, bob pulled you close to him, one arm underneath your head and the other holding onto your hip. without thinking much bob placed a kiss to the back of you head and pulled the sheets tightly around you both.

You took ahold of his hand on your hip and tugged it against your chest, intertwining your fingers. “thank you again, bob”

“Stop thanking me, I’ll always be there for you”

When sleep overtook your bodies it was like somebody snapped their fingers and turned it morning quicker than usual.

The sounds of birds chirping in the background woke you up to face the sunlight shining into the once darkened room. You blinked a few times confused and hoping to wash the sleep away from your eyes, you took a look at the clock on your bedside table and saw it was eight in the morning. You groaned, head pounding like you’d gotten blackout drunk yesterday. You looked back and saw bob still in the same position, hand still holding yours while light snores left his mouth.

You unlocked your intertwined hands and slowly got up from the bed, cursing when the bed creaked underneath you. ‘’shut up” you muttered underneath your breath, hopping over the dirty clothes on the floor making your way to the shower that you so desperately needed after yesterday’s event.

The warm water felt like a blessing against your skin, you cleaned, washed your hair, exfoliated yourself good enough to were you finally felt free from the events that followed you from yesterday. Getting out of the shower however felt like a curse, you shivered goosebumps coating your skin. you quickly wrapped your robe around your body and walked out the bathroom.

“Interesting” you muttered to yourself when you saw bob still sleeping on your bed except he had turned to lay on his stomach, head slightly turned to the side as his arms were buried deep underneath the pillows his head was resting on.

You took in the quick fact he had gotten rid of his shirt and now the only thing that was covering him was your white sheets. You shook your head at the sudden thoughts that formed when you saw a glimpse of his back, and instead distracted yourself by running to your closest to pick a outfit. Once your changed into the outfit you had walked out of your room and went into the direction where the sleeping heroes were at.

You took in a deep breath when you came face-to-face with the glass door that opened and lead you to them, your hands hesitated pushing them open that is until you heard laugher filling up the floor expecting them to be asleep still, or dead. you were confused.

“There she is!” Bucky cheered, hands clapping loudly When he saw you enter the room. “Good morning, doll” you looked at each one and saw they were all sitting up on their beds, chatting and laughing like nothing had happened to them.

You crossed your hands as you walked up to them, “though for sure i was gonna lose at least one of you” you joked, a smile of relief covering your face.

They dramatically gasped, “can’t get rid of us that fast sweetheart!” Yelana yelled unexpectedly loud from her bed, making the others cover their ears.

“Like i would want to” you walked up to Bucky first to inspect his wound, “how do you feel Bucky?” He jumped slightly when you touched his bandage checking making sure blood didn’t leak through.

“Feel better now that you’re here” you rolled your eyes.

“Too early for the flirting buck” you pushed back his hair from his eyes and looked at the cut underneath his eye making sure it didn’t get worse overnight. “Well so far you look good, I’ll need to change your bandage in a minute, but first I’m gonna check on the others’’ Bucky nodded, grabbing onto your hand before you could walk away from him.

“Told you we would be okay”

That time he told you that you actually believed him.

“I know Bucky”

From the background you could hear the others making throwing up sounds and fake gagging causing you both to laugh, “enough flirting kids, there’s still injured people back here, doctor!’’ Ava yelled at you.

You walked over to them, giggling when you saw them sitting so politely and giving you oh-so sweet smiles. “I’m here, how do y’all feel?”

They shrugged, kicking their feet like kids underneath the blankets that were still covering them “shouldn’t you be checking us to know that” yelana said.

You sighted, “well yeah, but i need to know ya’ll’s pain level” you looked at Yelana’s wounds, whining in pain with her when you pulled down the bandage on her back that was covering her burnt up back, you saw it still looked bright red bits of skin missing and replaced with white puss, “back still looks bad, I’ll need to clean it extra deep, which may hurt.’

Yelena nodded like an was ordinary task, “okay” you gave her a look.

“I’ll need to give you lots of painkillers, which may knock you out for a while’’ you opened the pill bottle on her bedside table, popping out three pills.

She took the pills with water and leaned back against her pillows, re-getting herself comfortable. You gave her one last look before leaving her side, turning your attention over to Ava who now looked uncomfortable adjusting herself on the bed. “Star, how’s the side and hip?”

“Darling, honey, I’m hurting still” she sarcastically said through a painful smile.

“Well, I’m gonna prep you for surgery this morning, so you’ll have to get used to this bed, hon” she groaned, “in the meantime I’ll give you some pain medication, that should make you forget about the pain for awhile” she sent you a small smile and accepted the pills you gave her. You played with her hair and talked for a while trying to calm her nerves down about her surgery she was gonna have, the others occasionally joined into the conversation you both were having also trying to make her less stressed out, when it worked, you quietly left her alone while she was talking to Yelana and wandered over to john.

“How’s the head walker?”

“Hurts a little less than yesterday” you hummed, putting a pair of gloves on so you could change the bandage around his head. “Where’s renold at” your hand came to a halt at unwrapping his bandage, face suddenly turning red as a tomato. John chuckled at that, a wide smile spreading across his face. “Oh…oh?” He wiggled his eyebrows a knowing look in his eyes.

“No, john” you already knew where he was going with those eyebrows wiggles, “just comforted me..’’ you sighed realizing that sounds way worse. “Don’t even” john just broke out in a laughter which made you slap his shoulder for.

“Comforted you??” You ignored him, hands working on changing his bandages. “So, where’s he at”

You gave him a look, “sleeping in my bed” you put your hand on his mouth shutting him up before he could get those words out, “nothing happened!”

“Sure, sure” his words were muffled.

To make matters even worse, bob just so happened to appear right behind you. “Morning john” you dropped your hand from his mouth and turned to look behind you. “And good morning y/n’’

You cleared your throat, “morning bob, I’m gonna check on alexi” you rushed out the room, unluckily for you bob was hot on your tail following you around.

“Could have woken me up” he tugged on your arm pulling you back towards him.

Your grew wide when you realized the distance between you both and slowly took a step back, “figured you needed sleep after yesterday” a blush creeped to your neck. “You know after helping me with these guys’’ you paused, “and girls”

“Right..” it went quiet between you two, a part of you both hoping those lines between you both would be crossed, but you made no move either did he. “So, um, what do you need help with today” Bob scratched his neck awkwardly.

“Why don’t you make breakfast for them, and I’ll finish up here”

Before he could say anything else you rushed away from him, making a beeline to Alexi’s room. “How you feeling old man?”

He showed you the middle finger, “not that old. But I’m not in pain”

you chuckled, “thats a first” you checked the wounds on his hands and then his legs, his wounds didn’t look even remotely good.

Seeing your concerned face, he knew something wasn’t right. “What’s wrong doc”

You re-patched up his hands and legs and moved to stand at the edge of his bed. “Considering i just fixed up you up yesterday, your wounds don’t look the best, so you’ll have to be bedridden until you’re able to fully use your hands, because” you placed a feather light touch to his hand and saw him hiss in pain, “you’re hands will take a long time to properly heal, same for your leg”

“Time to retire?” He jokingly asked.

You snicker, “oh you’re far from that’’

He suddenly got serious, “i will get to use my hands and leg again, right?”

Your gaze softened at him, you nodded. “Of course you will, I’ll make sure you recover right”

Once everybody was checked, changed bandages and looked good enough to be on their way. You stepped aside and watched as bob walked into each rooms, handing them plates of food. A smile grew on your face as you saw the hero’s shoving the food down with laughs and chattering filling the room once again.

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art-by-jas · 10 days ago

Text

Watching Chapt. 4/5 (AO3)

Charlie Reid x f!Reader

Tags: Public Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Dirty Talk, Daddy Kink, Praise Kink, Biting, Kissing

Summary: Hanging out at Molly's with friends, when you come face-to-face with Charlie, things tend to go sideways.

WC: 3k

A/N: One more chapter to go!!! wooooo hope you guys enjoy. Yes, I'm not up to date on any of the Chicago shows. Does Molly's have a pool table... I don't think so but shhhhh no one will know.

After a super long week of crazy shifts, you’ve decided it’s time to kick back at Molly's with some drinks and a fun game of pool. Right now, you’re deep in a match with a doctor from Med named Will, both of you joking around as you sink balls. The week’s stress gradually fades away as the bar’s vibe wraps around you. Hermann and Stella are behind the bar serving drinks. You zero in on the table, take your shot, and watch as a ball rolls into the side pocket.

Will dramatically groans in response, putting a hand over his heart like he’s about to faint. “Seriously? That’s the third one you’ve sunk, doc. Have you no mercy?” he says, trying hard not to smile.

You can’t help but smirk, loving the playful back-and-forth. “Mercy? Not in pool!” You jump at the chance to tease him. “Looks like you really need to up your game, Halstead.”

Will lets out an exaggerated sigh and rolls his eyes with a playful smirk. "Oh, come on! Don’t get too full of yourself. I've got a few surprises up my sleeve." He steps closer to the table, studying the setup of the balls like he's plotting something. "And just so you know, I was totally going easy on you."

You can’t help but laugh at his over-the-top confidence. "Really? Are you now saying you’re actually going to put in some effort?" You lean casually on your pool cue.

Just as the fun teasing keeps going, Stella strolls over with a warm smile. She leans against the pool table, her dark hair catching the light and making her eyes shine. "How about another round for you two?" she asks, already knowing what drinks you usually go for.

Will nods in agreement, his eyes glued to the pool table as he plots out his next move. You share a smile with Stella, really appreciating how attentive she is. "Yeah, that sounds awesome, thanks, Stella!"

She gives a quick nod and heads behind the bar to whip up the drinks, leaving you and Will to keep the pool game rolling. The bar buzzes with laughter and light-hearted banter all around.

Will leans down, focusing on his shot and clearly weighing his options. "You know," he says, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes, "you're not half bad at this." There’s a playful challenge in his voice.

You raise an eyebrow, feeling a laugh coming on. "Not half bad? I think you meant to say, I'm totally kicking your ass." A smirk spreads across your face.

Will lets out a playful scoff, clearly reveling in the competition. "Not quite there yet, doc. Just giving you a few good ones before I show you how it’s really done." Right as he’s gearing up to make his shot, Stella strolls back with the drinks, placing them on a nearby table. You grab yours and take a sip, feeling the coolness of the drink refreshingly slide down your throat.

Will sinks a ball, a cheeky smirk creeping across his face. "See that? That's what I'm talking about—real talent!" He winks at you, clearly having a blast.

You can't help but laugh at his cocky attitude, taking another sip of your drink. "Oh, come on, that was pure luck!" you tease, shaking your head. "Let’s see you pull that off again!”

You chuckle and give your head a playful shake when he sinks another shot. “Okay, okay! I’ve got to hit the restroom. No cheating while I’m gone!” You give him a friendly pat on the shoulder as you stroll past, making your way to the restrooms at the back of the bar.

After turning off the water, you’re reaching for the paper towels when, out of nowhere, you find yourself face-to-face with Reid. Your eyes widen in surprise as you glance at his frame. The bathroom suddenly feels tight, and you can feel the tension hanging in the air. He’s leaning against the doorway, kind of blocking any chance of slipping by.

Reid’s got this casual smirk on his face as he takes in the look of shock and annoyance on yours. “Well, look who it is, doc. Surprise, surprise.” There’s a hint of sarcasm in his tone, and you can’t help but roll your eyes.

You cross your arms, trying to act like you couldn’t care less. “Oh really? What brings you here, Reid?” You can hear a bit of annoyance creeping into your voice.

He laughs softly, that annoying smirk of his growing as he steps away from the doorway and inches closer to you. “I just want to enjoy a couple of drinks like anyone else.” He sounds so casual, as if he belongs here.

But you hold your ground, not going to let him throw you off, even though your heart is racing with him so close. “You don’t exactly scream ‘social butterfly,’ you know,” you shoot back, raising an eyebrow with a challenging look.

Reid lets out another chuckle, his smirk even more irritating now. He steps closer again, locking his gaze on you, and the tension in the air is almost electric. “And what do you think I am, sweetheart?” There’s a playful teasing in his voice, his eyes darting across your face.

You take a deep breath, trying to shake off the effect he has on your heart. "Arrogant, self-absorbed, totally annoying..." You list off the qualities that pop into your head.

His smirk only gets bigger, those playful sparks lighting up his eyes. "Ouch, that really hurts!" He puts on a dramatic show. "I thought we had a good thing going."

You can’t help but roll your eyes again at his over-the-top reaction, not buying it for a second. "Come on. You know I can’t stand you."

He takes another step closer, and suddenly the space between you feels way too small. You can feel his warmth and that tempting scent of his cologne wrapping around you. "Now that’s a bit much, isn’t it?" He teases, a playful note in his voice. "You really don’t have to keep your guard up like that.”

You hold your ground, not backing away an inch. "And you don't have to be so insufferable all the time, yet here we are."

His smirk softens slightly, his gaze turning more intense. "Insufferable, huh? That seems a bit...extreme, doll."

He steps even closer, so close that you can almost feel the brush of his chest against yours, your breaths mingling. "I think you secretly like the fact that I get under your skin so easily." You try to ignore the way your body is betraying you, the way your heart is racing, the way your pulse is quickening. Damn him. Why does he have this effect on you?

"In your dreams, Reid," you reply, lifting your chin defiantly. "I can't stand the sight of you."

He chuckles softly, amused by your stubbornness. His gaze doesn't waver, and he looks like a predator toying with his prey. "Oh, I assure you, I've had a few very pleasant dreams about you."

His words send a shiver down your spine, and you curse yourself for the way your body responds to him. You try to maintain your indifferent facade, but your heart betrays you, pounding loudly in your chest. You open your mouth to deny his claim, to insist that he's wrong, but his words only fuel your irritation, and you snap.

"You're a cocky, arrogant, self-absorbed pain in my ass. I can't stand yo-"

Before you can finish your rant, Reid cuts you off by swiftly leaning down and crashing his lips onto yours in a sudden kiss.

The unexpectedness of the kiss catches you off guard. Your mind goes blank for a moment, your body reacting without your permission. You try to protest, to push him away, but the feeling of his lips on yours is inexplicably intoxicating. You find yourself momentarily drawn in.

Reid's hands grip your hips, holding you in place, his fingers digging firmly into your hip. He deepens the kiss, his tongue slipping past your lips as he takes control. Your hands come up to his chest, intending to push him back, but your body betrays you once again, your fingers gripping his shirt instead.

Your brain screams at you to stop, but your body refuses to listen, your lips moving against his involuntarily. As the kiss deepens, your fingers snake into his hair, gripping the silky strands tightly. You pull back suddenly, tugging on his strands hard and causing Reid to gasp against your mouth. The sound fuels your defiance, your body finally catching up to your brain. You pull back further, your hand still holding his hair, forcing his gaze to meet yours.

The smirk on your lips is equal parts satisfaction and challenge. "Don't think this changes anything, Reid." Your voice comes out breathy and rough.

Reid's smirk falters for a moment at the sharp tug on his hair, a mixture of surprise and desire flaring in his eyes. He lets out a soft, guttural sound, his fingers gripping your hips tighter in response.

"That's not what it looks like to me..." he shoots back, his voice low and gravelly. "You sure you still hate me?" There's a hint of mockery in his tone, but he gives a slight tug on your hips, bringing your body closer to his.

In a moment of defiance, you give in to your conflicting feelings, closing the gap between you and pressing your lips firmly against his. The kiss is rougher this time, more insistent, your fingers still tangled in his hair as you assert control.

Reid responds eagerly, his hands sliding from your hips down around your waist, pulling you flush against him, his body pressed fully against yours. He pulls back just slightly to murmur against your lips, "Admit it, you like this."

Your body betrays you, melting into him, your hips instinctively pressing against his. The heat between you is palpable. But you refuse to give him that satisfaction. Your fingers tug harder on his curls, pulling his head back. "Shut up." Your whisper is both harsh and huskier than intended.

You can feel the smirk against your lips, and his grip on your hips tightened. "Make me, doll." He whispers back, the challenge in his voice sending a thrill through you.

As your lips continue to move together, Reid's teeth lightly graze your bottom lip before giving it a sharp bite. The action sends a jolt of surprise and desire through you, making you gasp softly into his mouth. His grip on your waist tightens in response, and his tongue swipes across the sensitive spot he just bit, as if to soothe the sting.

He guides you backwards, pressing you against the side of a stall, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. "I plan to have you squirming on my fingers right here, making all the pretty noises I know you make so well. Then I'm going to take you home and lay you out all pretty on my bed."

Your breath catches at his words, a dizzying mix of anticipation and defiance swirling in you. "You've got quite the ego, Reid," you manage to retort, your voice betraying a hint of arousal. His mouth trails down your jawline, his voice husky and low.

"It's not ego when I know what I'm capable of." He nips at your earlobe, his hand moving to the bottom edge of your shirt. Your breath catches in your throat as his fingers brush the underside of your breast, causing you to shiver involuntarily. His lips quirk into a cocky smile.

"See? Your body gives you away every time." He murmurs, his fingers continuing their journey downward. His hand moves from under your shirt, slipping lower. He kisses your neck, his lips warm and insistent against your skin. His hand deftly unbuttons your jeans, the zipper slowly opening.

His lips move to your ear, his breath warm against your earlobe. "You want this. Just admit it." His hand slips into your pants, finding your center. His touch is both confident and possessive. He knows exactly where to touch, and he starts slowly, in circular motions, building the tension.

Your head falls back against the stall, your eyes fluttering closed. His touch is infuriatingly good, your defenses crumbling under his fingers. You want to fight it, to resist the pleasure his touch is igniting within you. But your body betrays you, your hips shifting slightly toward his hand. He chuckles, his lips moving from your ear down your neck, his breath hot against your skin. "That's it, doll. Give in already. Just give in. It'll feel good."

Despite your best efforts, you find yourself powerless against the pleasure he's evoking in you. Your body responds instinctively, your hips grinding softly against his hand. His voice drops even lower, filled with triumph. "That's a good girl. You like this, don't you?"

“Oh, fuck…” You swear under your breath.

You feel your resistance melting away, and the pleasure building in your core is undeniable. Frustration floods you, knowing that he's winning. It infuriates you, but it feels too good to stop. Your mouth opens to respond, to protest, to deny it, but all that comes out is a soft moan.

Your eyes widen as he pulls away, bringing his hand to his mouth, and licking your slick off his fingers. He maintains eye contact as he does, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. He sucks his fingers clean, his gaze fixed on yours. "Mmm... I knew I was right. You taste even better than I imagined, sweetheart."

The sight of him, relishing the taste of you, is almost too much to bear. Your cheeks flush with a mix of arousal and embarrassment, frustration and desire all swirling together. Your mind struggles to find a response, but your body continues to react against your will, your hips moving involuntarily as they seek more friction.

Reid's hand returns to your dripping pussy, his fingers working expertly, as if he knows exactly how to make you come undone. He doesn't start slow; he inserts a finger, quickly and easily, the friction sending a jolt of need through you. He's good with his hands. His eyes stay fixed on your face, watching the expressions pass over your face. He adds another finger, stretching you more as he twists and curves his fingers, seeking out the spot he knows.

You hear Reid's voice, his tone cocky and teasing, as he speaks. "You're so damn soaked, doll. Can you hear that? I bet everyone can hear it, can hear how much you want me, how much you need me. You're practically dripping." His palm grinds against your clit, which has you latching your mouth on his neck to keep from crying out. He's making you feel incredible, and yet there's this overwhelming need for more. You want him closer; you want him everywhere.

Reid leans closer, his breath hot against your ear. "You're so damn needy, so damn desperate for me." He adds another finger, stretching you more and pressing harder against your sweet spot, his tone cocky and arrogant. "You need to ask me nicely. Beg me, and I might just give you what you want."

His words are a mixture of desire and challenge, making your body tingle in anticipation and your heart beat faster. You open your mouth to respond, to snap back with some witty comment, but he curves his fingers, hitting your G-spot and sending a jolt of pleasure through you. A moan escapes your lips instead, and you hate yourself for it, for being under his control.

He chuckles, sensing your struggle. "See, doll? Your body betrays you every time. You can act all stubborn and defiant all you like, but your body knows what it wants. And it wants me." He nips at your neck, his voice dropping a little lower. "So come on, doll. Beg me. Beg me to make you come."

The pressure builds in you, your body aching for release. You take a deep breath, your pride and resistance slowly melting away. You hate yourself for giving in, but the need for release is overwhelming. Your voice comes out in a breathy whisper, begging him with every ounce of desire in your body. "Please... Please make me come, Reid."

Reid's cocky smirk widens, and he looks pleased with your submission. "Mmm... That's a good girl, doll. Begging so nicely." His fingers move faster, the pace and pressure increasing. "You know I can't resist when you ask so nicely. I'll give you what you want."

Reid watches as your body reacts, your face twisted with pleasure. He leans in, his breath hot against your ear, his voice lower and huskier than ever. "That's it. That's my good girl. Come for me. Be a good girl and come for Daddy."

You're pushed over the edge as you come. Your hands wrap tightly around his shoulders, your head falling back, your teeth sinking into his neck, leaving a sizeable mark. "Daddy," you moan, your voice a breathless whisper filled with satisfaction. Reid gasps softly in response to your bite, his arms wrapping around you tightly, pulling you close to his chest. "Good girl," he murmurs, his voice low and rough with satisfaction. "You did so well, angel."

Reid slowly pulls his fingers out of you, a smirk on his lips. He slowly brings his fingers to his mouth, his eyes locked on yours as he teasingly sucks his fingers clean. He takes his time, his tongue darting out to lick up every last drop of you. He leans in, his voice low and gruff, "I'll never get tired of how you taste, doll. You're addictive."

Reid leads you out of the bathroom, his hand firmly resting on the small of your back. You can see the possessiveness in the gesture, the way he seems eager to get you to his house. As you walk through the bar, some people eye you curiously, and your blush deepens slightly, realizing they probably already suspect what you two were up to in there. You spy Will by the bar talking to Jay, pool game forgotten, luckily, he doesn’t notice your exit.

Reid, meanwhile, looks completely casual, a small smirk tugging at his lips as if he's savoring a secret.

Chapter 5 Final

MASTERLIST

@science-hoes

#charlie reid #charlie reid x reader #charlie reid x you #chicago pd #charlie reid imagine #charlie reid smut #shawn hatosy #shawn hatosy smut #fanfiction

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beckyninja · 28 days ago

Text

Desecration

Pairing: Demetrian Titus x FemOC

Warnings: A lot of dark implications in this one, Leandros is almost at the depths of his corruption; mentions of surgery

The Vengeance Squad is on the way! But will they be in time?

Find the previous parts of this series on my Masterlist. Comment and ask to be added to/removed from the Taglist. And remember, my DMs and Asks are open!

Something is wrong.

Titus felt it the moment he stepped from the Thunderhawk’s ramp, back into the hangar of the Resilient. Everything looked as it had when he departed. Tech adepts labored over machinery, chanting as they worked. Servitors shuffled and clanked. Serfs bustled about on a thousand different tasks.

None of those serfs were Sera.

Unsurprising. From the expressions on my brothers’ faces, it seems no one expected my return.

Rationality declared he had no reason to expect her presence. But something else… something deeper… snarled.

Something is wrong.

Titus began his march toward the Apothecary. Reports to Captain Acheran could wait. His twin heartbeat spiked, with anticipation or anxiety he could not tell. He quickened his pace until his armor creaked in protest. A few Ultramarines called out as he passed. He ignored them.

“Little Healer.” He rumbled. “Sera.”

Throne, it has been too long!

Too long since the sound of her sweet voice. Too long since her soft arms twined about his neck. Too long since he inhaled her intoxicating fragrance.

Titus ached.

And still, the nagging thought.

Something is wrong.

He turned a corner, nearly trampling a pair of techpriests, and came into sight of the Reclusiam.

Blood.

The scent jerked him to a halt. Every detail of his surroundings burst into sharp definition. Red spattered the floor just outside the great, gilded doors. A group of cleaning serfs huddled off to one side, whispering, their shoulders hunched.

“She wasn’t supposed to be here! Who even was she?”

“I don’t know. She traded places with old Gaius.”

“Why on Holy Terra would any serf want this duty?”

“I’ve never seen… him… that angry.”

A collective shudder ran through the huddle.

“What happened here?”

The serfs flinched at Titus’s booming question. Almost as one, they dropped to their knees, heads bowed. A few trembled.

Titus frowned. A simple question, and these serfs acted as if he’d threatened them with chainsword revving.

“You need not cower. I mean you no harm.”

Finally, a woman with a nose that had been broken sometime in the recent past, spoke. “It is our great shame to tell you, my Lord, that one of our number angered the Holy Chaplain, and he visited his righteous wrath upon her.”

Titus clenched his fists, unease settling in his gut. “Who?”

“I don’t-”

“Wait,” a younger man, missing one eye, broke in, “I think I saw her once, in the Apothecarion.”

Titus didn’t wait for more. With a speed that no being of his size should have attained, he raced for the nearest lift.

Please, God-Emperor. Not her.

***

Chairon paced the Apothecarion. Back and forth. Back and forth. His fists clenched and unclenched at his sides. He’d never liked this place. The stench of chemicals and antiseptics irritated his sinuses. But he couldn’t bring himself to leave.

His eyes fixed on the door leading to the surgical room.

“I must return to duty.” Gadriel had said. “I will… make an excuse for you, Brother Chairon. Inform me when the medica is able to speak.”

If she is able to speak.

The thought hurt worse than it should have. The image of Vesta laying there, choking on her own blood, replayed over and over again in his mind. It sparked faded memories of a childhood long gone. Of a boy running through the chaos of the Word-Bearers assault on Calth, finding a burning home.

And the slaughter within.

He’d never forget the choked groan from Apothecary Callistus as he knelt over the writhing body. Never forget the look in his eyes as he gathered her up and tore back to this Apothecarion, Chairon and Gadriel close on his heels.

Once again, Chairon’s eyes darted to the door. Behind which, a team of baseline medicae fought to save a life, overseen by the Apothecary himself.

He resumed pacing.

Warp damn me, we should never have allowed this to happen! We sent an innocent into danger. Alone… unprotected….

Shame wrapped icy fingers around both his hearts. First the Lieutenant’s serf. And now sweet Vesta. Vesta with her eyes that reminded him of springtime on planets long lost.

He should have protected her. He should have protected both of them. He’d failed. And all because of… him.

Rage burned in Chairon’s chest. Clawing to be set free. The same rage he’d felt when he witnessed the cruelties of the Thousand Suns upon Avarax. And again when they fought the Sorcerer on Demerium.

Even if you are not Chaos-corrupted, Chaplain, you are a traitor. One who preys upon the innocent is a traitor to all our Chapter stands for!

And he still had the Lieutenant’s Sera in his clutches.

“Enough!” Chairon turned to leave the Apothecarion. “I can do nothing here. But I can avenge-”

The door hissed open.

“Where is she?”

***

Only an hour had passed since the Thunderhawk unloaded its passenger onto the Resilient, and rumors reached even the innermost chambers of the Reclusiam. A candelabra shattered against the wall, followed by a sparking servo skull. A cherub was snatched from the air and ripped in half.

Bestial snarls sent Sacratium serfs scuttling for safety in the darkest alcoves they could find. They whispered prayers to the Emperor and rubbed aching scars, marks of their Lord’s previous bouts of temper.

“Alive?!” The roar ripped through the incense-clouded air.

Leandros stood, bare-chested, in the midst of the ruin he’d wrought. Wild eyes darted, searching for another vessel for his wrath. They fell upon the blind servitor he’d assigned to the Harlot’s cell, creeping along, blood-stained bandages clutched in its skeletal hands. A moment later its head rolled to rest at the foot of a shrine.

Titus, alive?! How? No!

He’d been so sure. So sure the mission would bring about the Heretic’s fall. A cleansing of his soul through glorious death. Or, better, a spotlight revealing the depths of his corruption.

Either way, an end to Demetrian Titus.

But, now….

Leandros raked his hands over his face. Control. He needed to regain control! Surely this was a test of some sort. Surely the Emperor would provide clarity if he just listened hard enough, focused hard enough, believed-

The thought slipped into his mind like cool silk over fevered skin.

You tried to pass your task on to another.

He stilled.

Did you not feel it when your whip scourged her tender flesh? The rush of… purpose… when your touch made her gasp in cleansing shame?

Deep, deep within the man Leandros used to be, warning bells rang.

Punishment is your right, your privilege, your duty.

“I see….”

The Heretic returned so you could inflict the punishment that is your due. And what better way to punish him, than to take that which he calls his own?

“I… I have….”

Have you? Have you taken her? In all the ways you dreamed, alone, in the dark?

The warning bells grew louder. He pushed them away.

Images filled his mind. Images he’d barely allowed himself to dwell upon. The Harlot, broken, bloodied, bare, splayed upon his cot.

Punish the Heretic by ruining the Harlot. Desecrate the desecrated. Only then will you be able to purify her soul. And the pleasure you will feel? Your Emperor-given reward for being so, so faithful.

Don’t you want your reward, Chaplain?

Leandros eyes turned toward the cell. His body burned. Hardened.

“I do.”

***

Ultramarines were supposed to be rational. Logical. In absolute control of their emotions.

Titus stood like the marble statues so prevalent upon Macragge. He neither frowned, nor snarled. No bared teeth. No gasping breaths. Still and silent.

He’d never felt more out of control in his long life.

Not Sera.

The sheer relief he’d felt at Chairon’s reassurance. Followed by confusion. Then consternation as his battle brother revealed who did lie near death, in that surgical room. Questions had followed.

Then… emotions. Wild and mixed and nothing like any Ultramarine, any Astartes, should ever feel.

Horror. Grief. Shame. Rage. Horror, grief, shame, rage. Horrorgriefshamerage.

Chairon was apologizing, his voice cracked. Titus barely heard him.

Sera.

He should never have left her behind. Calgar would have understood. Why didn’t he explain? Why didn’t he try?

The Apothecarion door hissed open again behind him.

“Lieutenant!”

Titus turned, slowly, to face Gadriel.

“Sir, I… we… she-”

Titus slammed him against the door with a bang of metal on ceramite. “She was supposed to be safe with you!”

The Sergeant looked stricken. “Forgive me-”

“Forgiveness? You ask my forgiveness?!”

He drew his fist back, only to have it caught by another.

“Brother, no!” Chairon forced himself between the two of them. “Brother Gadriel and I share blame for this. But you never warned us of the hatred the Chaplain bears you. We did not know!”

The anger bled away.

My fault. If I had been honest with my brothers, trusted them!

And now Sera paid the price for his reticence.

“Leandros….” Pushing away from his squadmates, Titus lunged toward the door. “I will kill him.”

For her, for my Little Healer, for Sera. And Warp damn the consequences!

He sensed Chairon and Gadriel falling in behind him. “This is not your fight.”

“If the Chaplain is so corrupted, it is every Ultramarine’s duty to see him removed.” Gadriel intoned.

“I would kill him for Vesta’s sake alone.” Chairon spat.

“As would I.”

All three of them turned to the bloodstained figure exiting the surgical room. Callistus’s eyes burned with vengeful fire.

Chairon stepped forward. “Vesta…?”

“Lives.” The Apothecary sighed. “We repaired the lung, set the ribs. Now we wait.” He looked down at the blood on his gauntlets and spoke as if to himself. “So small when I took her into the Chapter. I worried she would be crushed underfoot, so I sat her on my shoulder as I worked. A never ending stream of questions rattled into my ear.”

Titus had never seen the veteran smile. Then that smile faded, and he looked up.

“You are not the only one who has failed to protect one dear to him.” Moving to a locker against one wall, the Apothecary removed a chainsword. “Vengeance, brothers.”

“Vengeance.” Gadriel and Chairon growled in tandem.

Titus said nothing.

The four of them stalked through the halls of the Resilient. Serfs fled before them. Ultramarines watched in bemused silence. They shouldered through the doors of the Reclusiam to find it empty.

Good. Titus thought. The fewer brothers who see this, the better.

The door to the Chaplain’s inner chambers was locked. A few kicks and chainsword cuts solved that. Somewhere, an alarm blared.

“No going back, now.” Gadriel muttered.

“Look!” Chairon took a few steps to one side, bent, and lifted what looked like a cleaning serf’s bucket.

Opening it, he revealed a battered servo skull. “Perhaps Vesta managed to record something after all.”

“Keep it.” Callistus grunted. “We will need its evidence when we are tried.”

Titus clenched his teeth. “I care not for trials. I care only for-”

Blood. Again. Stronger.

The four of them moved as one toward the tiny barred cell set into the far wall.

“What is this?” Chairon sounded shocked.

“Hmph.” Callistus leaned forward to peer through the bars. “I have heard of such things for punishing erring Sacratium serfs. I did not know our Chaplain made use of them.”

Gadriel remained silent, fingers flexing around his bolt pistol.

Titus inhaled, and nearly choked. “Sera’s blood.”

The cell reeked of her. Of her fear. Her pain. He took in the manacles… and the shredded robe. A dark suspicion grew.

“Emperor… no….”

“He must have moved her.” Gadriel rasped. “But where? And where is he?”

Titus snapped his head from side to side. The dark suspicion consumed all before it, filling him with sick dread and a sense that they were running out of time.

Then, something glimmered in the candlelight, on the floor next to another, smaller door. He rushed to it.

My laurel leaf. Her laurel leaf.

“No….”

The muffled sob hit him like a bolter round.

“Please… stop….”

“SERA!”

He rammed his shoulder-pauldron into the door with all the force only an enraged Astartes could muster. It shattered.

And Demetrian Titus stepped into a scene from his darkest nightmares.

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