Hai @crumb-crumblet-s-crumbington 's Warrior Cat Au Would Inevitably Rot My Brain

Hello, author. Would it be possible to request an established relationship Dante or Vergil x feminine male!reader who has emotional dependency and who, for years, was almost like a prostitute/courtesan to demons ? The reader tends to make a lot of sexual advances out of fear of being abandoned and not being desirable enough for their boyfriend. The reader has a devoted, polite, and gentle personality, with a mix of fluff and hurt to comfort if possible. I hope this request doesn't make you uncomfortable, dear author, Have a good day 🌷

DEVIL MAY CRY - DANTE SPARDA | VERGIL SPARDA

The requested scenario for BOTH of the twins :3

WORDCOUNT: Around 1k for each

Authors Note: Visit my Ko-Fi if you want to support me, or if you want to comission a personalised, private story!

Dante x feminine!Male!Reader | established relationship

Dante knew what you were like. He knew the way you acted, what you usually were like around him, the things you'd do and say. In just a few months, he'd learned to read you like a book. Dante also knew your past. You'd opened up about it slowly, timid about his reaction, even though you knew he wouldn't judge you. You couldn't help it, really. Life had prepared you to be expecting everything and everything.

Emotionally dependent reader Former demon prostitute/courtesan reader fear Of abandonment Reader: devoted, polite, gentle Fluff/ Hurt Comfort

When you had told Dante that you'd practically been a prostitute for Demons, he'd been mad. Not at you, never at you, more so at anyone that dared to give you bad experiences in life. Dante had figured that you weren't completely trauma free - you were hanging around him, after all - but he hadn’t expected anything like what you opened up to him about.

Something Dante had started to notice these last few days, though, is how you seemed to always cling to him, how you tried to initiate intimate moments more often, the way you'd look at him every time he wasn't in the mood. He hadn’t minded at first, hell, in all honesty, he liked how active you were, but after a while he noticed your patterns. You initiated intimacy whenever either of you had been upset at the other, or whenever he hadn't been able to hang out with you as much as usually, whenever he was too busy… It became a little suspicious. You'd get upset whenever he'd reject, seemingly more at yourself than at him.

One evening was especially bad. He'd been out for a long mission, drained and hungry, covered in blood. You'd come to him, humming about taking a shower, gingerly wrapping your arms around him, lips pressed against his neck. He sighed, knowing that while he loved when you were like this, he really just wanted to shower and then pass out in bed. He told you as much as he parted with you, pressing a swift kiss against your forehead before disappearing into the bathroom.

He found you later, once he'd gotten dried up and dressed in his sleep clothes - which were only acceptable and without holes because you'd pushed him to get some proper pyjamas instead of sleeping in his boxers and old shirts all the time. The lights in your shared hoke were turned off, but you weren't in bed. Usually, you'd have a few lights or candles on while you snuggled up on the couch. Lights off was only for bedtime with you.

You still sat on the couch, though, sniffling softly to yourself. Dantes whole face fell as he realised you were crying. “...Love, what's wrong..?” He muttered as he stepped towards you, carefully seating himself beside you. You sniffled again, immediately smuggling against him. “... do you not love me…?” You mumble, voice muffled by his shirt as you press your face into his shoulder. Dante almost thinks he didn't hear you right, wrapping his arms around you, pressing you against his chest. “Baby, my dear sweet boy, why would you think that…?” He questions, running his fingers through your hair. “...you don't want me…” You sob, tears staining Dantes shirt. The gears in his head started turning as he pulled you into his lap. “Love, listen to me. I love you. I want you, all the time, but sometimes I'm tired, or I'm not in the mood, not because I don't love you anymore, it just happens, yeah?” He mumbles, pressing a few soft kisses against the top of your head. You're still sniffling, so he tilts your head a little to kiss your forehead too.

“I just… whenever you don't want me I think you don't love me-” You start, new tears dwelling in your eyes as you look up at him. He shushes you, gently brushing your tears away. He slipped his fingers into your hair, gently running his digits through the soft strands, twirling them around the tips carefully.

“I swear to you, I will never stop loving you. You dont even need to think that, yeah? You're so much more than your body, and our relationship is so much more than just physical, you hear me?” He hums, keeping his voice careful and gentle yet the way he looked into your eyes left no room for discussion.

You press your face into his shoulder again, clinging to his shirt as you let the last few tears slip down your cheeks. You knew he meant it, but it was so hard to genuinely believe. “My sweet boy…” Dante sighs, placing yet another kiss against the top of your head, breathing in before pulling away, consoling you with a hand on your back. “I love you. I always will, yeah?” He mumbles against your hair, softly tugging you closer as he feels your hands tangle into his shirt - somehow you still managed to be mindful of not bunching it up too much.

He let you calm down slowly, murmuring soft words and pressing gentle kisses whereever he could reach. The moonlight softly shone into the living room, illuminating the scene in its gentle light. It took you a while to properly calm down, sniffling softly, stray tears staining Dantes shirt. “You wanna go to bed..?” The white haired mumbles, gently carding his fingers through your hair. You nod after a moment, clinging to him. He chuckles lightly, wrapping his arms around you so he could pick you up and carefully carry you to bed. “My clingy boy, hm? You're so sweet… so adorable…” Dante mumbles carefully as he laid you down, smiling as he snuggled against you, wrapping the blankets around you in the way he knew you liked.

“I love you…” you mutter softly, feeling him press a kiss against your forehead. “I love you too… get some sleep, love, mhm?” Dante responds, pressing a kiss against your forehead, letting you drift off to sleep in his arms, feeling like the happiest man in the whole world.

Vergil x feminine!Male!Reader | established relationship

Emotionally dependent reader Former demon prostitute/courtesan reader fear Of abandonment Reader: devoted, polite, gentle Fluff/ Hurt Comfort

Vergil wasn't usually this concerned about you. You were his boyfriend, indeed, but you could take care of yourself, no matter how much trouble you got yourself in with your niceness. So, he never worried about you. Not much, anyway. There was a reason you were his boyfriend, and not anyone else. Behind that facade of pure and utter gentleness was still a strong will. However, lately you had been acting… off. Vergil hadn't noticed at first - he had been a lot busier these last few days, he didn't have the time to indulge in your unimportant desires. Sex wasn't something he needed, nor wanted regularly. Not by now, anyway. He did accept that he had been… Impulsive, before.

What Vergil had noted early into your relationship, was how needy you were. You wanted to be around him most of the time, touch him in one way or another. It was important to you, he knew that. He did let you have your moments, did let you be all over him for an hour or two, but he was a busy man, always had been, and you had to deal with that. It wasn’t about Vergil being heartless, more about him having clear boundaries you just had to accept. He was a lot different from you, after all. He needed his time to himself, to think, to plan, to just rest and relax. You often seemed to dislike his habits, but you never said anything. Never even as much as shoot him a nasty glance, you always stayed calm and soft. Vergil liked that about you, you were pliant. Soft.

This evening was only slightly different. Vergil had come home late, feeling tired and defeated after having learned that yet another of his plans wouldn't work out the way he had strategised. His hair was out of place, blue eyes already zoned out as he perfected his plan. You had made dinner, grinned at him widely as he stepped through the door, doting on him the second he had shrugged off his coat. Soft kisses against his cheeks, hands brushing over his sides - he knew these signs, knew they meant that you wanted him. He let you lead him to the kitchen, ate a few bites of the rather delicious food you made. Your foot nudged his under the table, he scowled slightly. “My dear, I don't think I've got time for.. this behaviour tonight.” He hums nonchalantly, as if telling you about the weather, as if it didn't make your whole world crumble just a little more. You don't answer, simply get up, mutter something about not being hungry anymore and hide away in the bedroom.

He didn't love you. You were so sure of that now. Surely, he was too busy thinking of everything but you. That's why he always stayed in his study. That's why he came home late, and didn't even give you a kiss whenever he stepped through the door. You knew Vergil was… special, but this wasn't being special. This was him blatantly not wanting you. It hurt you, it hurt like hell. You wanted him, wanted to love him, to show him how good you could be, but he wouldn't let you. Wouldn't let you give him what you knew he surely also needed - he was a man, after all. He couldn't be that different from the other men you'd met throughout your life.

You'd learn, though, that Vergil was indeed very different. You'd snuggled into the covers of your shared bed, sniffling softly. You weren't loud, too afraid of accidentally letting the man a few doors away know you were being such a crybaby about this simple situation. Tears stained your pillow - you had half a mind to think about having to turn it to the other side once you'd try to sleep. It didn't come to that, however. What it came to, was Vergil walking in after long hours in his study, late at night. You had frozen up once the door opened, tears still running down your cheeks.

You felt the mattress dip under his weight as he settled into bed beside you, wrapping an arm around you - he was actually cuddling against you. Something he usually never did. Did he… think you were asleep? You felt him place soft kisses against your jaw and the back of your neck, a soft smile on his lips. “My pretty boy…” He mumbles, voice deep from exhaustion. “So damn adorable… All mine…” He continues, snuggling his face into your hair comfortably. Vergil was weirdly clingy, arms wrapped around you tightly as he pressed lazy kisses against the skin he could reach. You don't dare to move, not wanting to ruin this moment, too scared Vergil would act like nothing happened and just pull away.

You basked in the moment for a few minutes, feeling Vergil rest and breathe against you - this has probably been the closest he's ever stayed to you for this long. “...you know I love you, right…?” Vergil suddenly mumbles, pressing a kiss against your cheek. He halts, huffing. “...were you crying?” He scowls slightly. You didn't know what to answer - had he not thought you were asleep? Did he know you had been awake the whole time and still snuggled so close to you? “...sorry…” You mutter silently, wiping the remnants of your tears away in an attempt to hide them. “Why were you crying?” Vergil questions, sitting up a bit. “Just.. nothing important..” you answer, trying to dodge the question - Vergil wouldn't take it, though. “Answer me.” He huffs coldly. “... just… Sometimes it feels like.. you don't want me…” You mumble, voice so silent you almost think he didn't hear you. Vergil doesn't answer for a moment, before he sighs heavily. “... I'm sorry, my dear. I didn't… realise how much I… hurt you. I will be better in the future, I promise you.” He speaks, pressing a kiss against your knuckles. “You will never cry because of me again, I promise it. I'm sorry, love.” He sighs, snuggling back against you. “I think I just… needed some time to get used to… This… but, I really do love you… Even if I dont show it that much…” You sigh in relief, pressing against him, worries lifted - or at least you know they'll be worked on from now.

Sacrifice

Chris Redfield x Sherry Birkin fic

Summary: Chris and Sherry were on their way through the Rocky Mountains to meet up with Leon for an upcoming mission, but when they stop for the night at a quaint inn, Chris disappears in the middle of the night. The leaves Sherry to find him and rescue him from whatever may have happened to him. All the while trying to figure out how to tell him how she feels about him.

Warnings: kidnapping, cults, human sacrifice, bad puns, violence, blood.

For @lyndibs

Chris always insisted on driving. It was his one thing he did that he wouldn't let anyone else do. She figured it was a Chris thing. Kind of like how she was always had her eggs sunny side up.

In this instance she didn't mind too much. It was the middle of the night and they'd been driving for three hours already after a 12 hour plane ride from Paris. It hadn't been as romantic as it seemed at first, chasing B.O.W.s rarely is. There had been a few moments that she was sure Chris was picking up on her feelings or even reciprocating them.

But they all ended up being about something else. Like when he grabbed her hand and ran with her down the street, it wasn't because he didn't want to lose her, she had fallen behind and was nearly crushed by a flying car thrown by a tyrant. Or when he pressed them against a wall and they were so close they could feel each other's heart beat. His lips had been right there, a small push up to her toes and they would have connected. It was because they were being followed and were giving the stalker the slip.

It seemed every time she got her hopes up, they were quickly dashed away by work.

Who knew B.O.W.s could be such cock-blocks.

"Hey, I'm pulling over here for the night," Chris said, pulling Sherry from her dozing. Opening her eyes, she take a deep breath and stretched in her seat as Chris pulled into a small inn that had a 24 hour light on as well as a Vacancy sign up.

"Alright. I'll message Leon to let him know we're stopping for the night," Sherry said as she worked her head side to side to loosen her muscles up a bit. She pulled out her phone to send the other agent a message that they were stopping for a bit and would be there in the morning. In true Leon fashion he sent back a thumbs up emoji.

Sliding from the SUV, Sherry saw Chris already had their over night bags and was walking towards the office door. Jogging ahead, she grabbed the door for him, getting a nod of thanks.

"Oh, hello!" The pair were greeted by a small, older lady that had long gray hair tied back into a bun on top of her head and big, round glasses perched on her nose. "I was wondering if we'd have guests this evening. How are you two, dearies?"

"Tired," Chris said, giving her a small smile. The man of few words wasn't without respect and courtesy, especially with a grandmother aged woman. "We'd like a room for the night please. We'll be leaving in the morning."

"Okie dokie," the woman said, shuffling over to a large, leather bound book. Sherry was sure the book was bigger than the woman, but the elderly lady was able to open it with a bit of grunting. "Alright, would you like a king or a queen bed? Our Honeymoon suite is available as well if you'd like to show off for your lady friend," she said, looking at Chris expectantly.

Maybe this was it. They had never shared a bed together, so maybe Sherry could get the courage to say something with them curled up against one another. Chris was large, but he could be so gentle and she was sure he would be an amazing snuggler.

"Two doubles actually, please" Chris said, shattering Sherry's fantasy of them sharing a bed.

Damn it.

"Two doubles it is. Ah yes. Here we go. Room 12. It's just up the stairs and to the left," the woman said as she marked down room 12 as occupied. Turning to look at the wall of keys, she picked out the room key to hand to Chris. "There you go. We ask that you pay in advance in case someone isn't here for check out. It is $100 for the night." Chris pulled out his wallet to pay her, giving the woman a crisp bill. "Thank you. If someone isn't here for when you're checking out, please drop the key in box by the stairs."

"Will do, thank you for you help," Sherry said as Chris picked up the bags again then lead the way up the stairs.

"Have a good night, you two. Sleep tight! Don't let the bed bugs bite!" The woman called after them as they walked up the stairs.

"You really didn't want to share the honeymoon suite with me?" Sherry asked, meaning to tease but also to feel Chris out a bit.

"Honeymoon suites are usually cheaply made and are least likely to be cleaned properly. I'd rather take my chances with a double," Chris said.

"Then why not a king or queen?" She asked as they walked down the hall towards their room.

"Because I know you're a cover hog and kick in your sleep," he said with a soft snort.

"True. She was really nice about trying to up sale us at least. I mean usually they try to add in all the bells and whistles and it gets aggressive. She seemed like a really sweet person," Sherry said.

"Just because someone's older, doesn't mean they're a good person," Chris said as he set down a bag to open their door.

"Well, I think she was adorable," Sherry said, closing and locking the door behind them.

"I'm gonna take a shower then head to bed. I suggest doing the same. We've got another four hours of driving tomorrow," Chris said as he opened his bag to pull clothes out.

"Tell me again why we couldn't get a flight to Colorado directly?" Sherry asked with a soft sigh as she pulled out her sleep clothes.

"Budget cuts," Chris said, giving her a small, playful smirk.

"Of course. Isn't that always the case?" She said with a giggle.

Chris nodded before he turned to head to the bathroom. Once the door was closed and the shower going, Sherry changed her clothes. She had grabbed a shower at the hotel they had been out when they first landed while Chris had been in meetings nonstop.

Changed into a tee shirt and sleep shorts, she was bent over and touching her toes when Chris walked out in just a towel. Standing up straight, she missed his faltering step as his eyes had gone right to her ass.

"Forgot my shorts," he mumbled, digging in his bag again.

"You're good," she said, working her shoulders a bit as a strange scent began to fill the room. It wasn't Chris' soaps. Those weren't that strong. "Hey, what's that smell?" She said, catching Chris's attention before he shut the bathroom door. It took a second before it really hit her, making her vision swim as she stumbled towards her bed, trying to grab something to steady her.

"Sherry!" Chris cried out as he tried to get to her, but he was over taken by the sweet smell too. He got to the side of her bed before falling to the floor with a groan.

"Chris," Sherry mumbled as she fell to the floor as well, everything going black.

When Sherry woke up, her head was throbbing and she didn't know what was happening. Rolling to her back, she slowly sat up. Still in their room, Sherry looked around before realizing she was alone.

"Chris!?" She cried, scrambling up despite the headache she had. He was no where to be found. Their things were still there, but no Chris. All that was left was the towel he'd been wearing, so where could he have gone? Changing into more appropriate clothes, she found that their guns were gone as well as their knives, but they always had back ups. Digging in her bag, she pulled the zipper on the secret compartment to get to her guns, hip holsters, and knife before digging in Chris' bag for his guns and shoulder holsters to put them all on.

If Chris was gone, but the towel was still there then he'd probably need some clothes and shoes. Grabbing his bag, she extended the strap to sling the bag over her head and shoulder. Now she just had to find Chris. Her bag was useless so she left it behind as she walked out the door to creep downstairs. The old lady was still there, humming to herself as she puttered around small area behind the check in counter.

Chris had been right, just because someone was a cute, old person didn't mean they were good.

Gun drawn, she went down the stairs as the woman had her back to her.

"Turn around!" She snapped. The older woman turned around to see Sherry with a gun aimed at her head. "Where is Chris? The man that was with me, where is he?"

"Oh that Dennis," the woman frowned, grumbling like some kid had been naughty and didn't have a gun pointed at her. "I told him to take care of you, but my son said the gas would keep you knocked out longer."

"Listen lady, where's my partner!" Sherry snapped, not wanting to let her guard down.

"He's already dead, don't get your panties in a wad," the woman said with a sigh, waving her off.

"Dead? What are you talking about?" Sherry asked, refusing to believe Chris was dead. If the hoards of the undead couldn't wipe out Chris Redfield, some old lady and her son certainly couldn't.

"He was perfect for the sacrifice," the woman said. "You know, usually we get those hipsters that are so lean and gamy, but your friend was perfect for our Lord's first meal on Earth."

"Enough talking, where is Chris?" Sherry demanded, cocking her gun.

"Dennis! See, I told you that you can't lolly gag around," the woman said, looking just past Sherry.

Spinning on her heel, Sherry saw a large behemoth of a man. He was big, bigger than Chris even. His eyes were hidden behind a mess of black, stringy hair that hung around his head in a curtain as he stomped towards her with clenched fists that looked like they could be used as sledge hammers.

"Damn it," she hissed, not hesitating to fire on him. Six rounds had him stumbling to the ground as he screamed in pain.

"Dennis! My baby!" The woman cried as she launched herself over the counter at Sherry. "I'll rip your pretty, blue eyes out!" She shrieked. The woman didn't get far though as Sherry wasn't a damsel in distress and knew how to fight just as well as Chris.

"I don't think so," Sherry grunted, kicking the woman away. She was quick to get on her, pinning her down with her knee. "Where's Chris!?"

"It's too late. Our Lord Aries is on his way and soon the Earth will be cast into his red dawn and blood will rain-" Sherry pistol whipped the babbling woman, knocking her out.

"Why do they always have to talk too much?" She sighed as she stood up. Going to the counter, she moved behind it to try and see if there were any clues there. Sure enough, a squeaky, loose board could be pulled up. Under it was a button and when Sherry pushed it, the back wall with the keys slid to the side to reveal a secret staircase.

Time was running out and she couldn't risk second guessing. So Sherry kept her gun at the ready as she ran down the stairs.

There were four sets of stairs to go down and she wondered what the hell she would find at the bottom. Her question was answered when she got to the last step to found an open door way. She could hear people chanting in the next room as she crept closer to peek around the corner.

Looking into the stone room with dark archways on either side, there were at least 15 people that she could count, all dressed in dark red robes. Chris was at the front of the room, tied and gagged while nude to a pillar with wood surrounding it.

Were they going to burn him alive!? There wasn't any time to guess their end game as she heard screaming coming from above her. It was now or never.

"Hey assholes!" She cried, rushing in with her guns pulled. "That's my partner you're about to barbeque and I'm the only one allowed to roast him!"

The people turned to see her, pulling up their own weapons of staffs and large knives, but that didn't matter. Sherry was a crack shot and even running, she was able to shoot most of them if they stayed to fight or came at her. A few tried to surprise attack her, but she was not having it.

The annoyance at herself for not saying anything to Chris about them when she had the chance as well as him skipping out on them getting a king sized bed together, combined with the fact the first time she saw him naked was right then when he was trussed up like some Faye Ray wannabe ready for the rescue, it was all pissing her off. Which made it all the more satisfying to slam her fist into some idiot's face to knock him on his ass.

Once they were all lying on the floor, groaning or bleeding or dead, she hopped up through the gasoline soaked wood to Chris.

Oh, he was very naked and try as she might, she couldn't help but have seen him. 'Good luck trying not to think of that later,' she thought to herself.

"Usually you're the one pulling me out of harms way," she said, pulling her knife to cut him free. "Also brought you presents." Keeping her eyes averted, she held out the bag of clothes for him.

"Thanks, Sherry," Chris said, grunting as he took the bag then quickly dressed. "You're a life saver."

"Don't mention it," she chirped. As he pulled on his shoulder holsters and checked his gun, he looked to her.

"Look, Sherry, uh about the bed thing-"

"You bitch!"

The two of them looked towards the door to see the elderly woman standing there with a rifle.

"You ruined everything! Everything! I will do it myself!" She screamed as she raised the gun and fired it at Chris.

"Chris, no!" Sherry cried, jumping in front of him to take the bullet to her back.

"Sherry!" Chris cried out as he caught her. He pulled her gun from her hand to shoot the older woman. She tried to fire first, but Chris was faster, sending a bullet between her eyes. "Sherry, talk to me, come on," he said, laying her down on her belly as blood soaked her shirt in the back.

"It's okay," Sherry wheezed as Chris began to panic. His hands were pressing to the wound, trying to stop the bleeding. "Don't worry about me."

"Not happening. I'm always going to worry about you," he said, pulling his jacket off to help soak up blood. "We're gonna get out of here. I promise."

"Chris, stop. It doesn't matter," Sherry said, trying to reach for his hand.

"No, it does matter," Chris said, grabbing her hand with his bloody one in a tight grip. "You matter, Sher. Please, just hold on, okay?"

"You gotta let go of me, Chris," Sherry said, trying to take a deep a deep breath under the pressure of Chris pushing on her.

"I'm not letting you go! I can't! I won't!" He cried, refusing to let up. "Please, I can't lose you."

"Chris. . ." Sherry said softly. "I love you."

"I love you too," he said, kissing her hand. "I love you and I should have said it before now and acted like it."

"I love you, but you have to stop pressing on my back. I can't breathe," she said with a groan.

"What?" He said, frowning.

"Chris, I can heal myself, remember?" Sherry said, looking up at him as he stared down at her. "I'm fine, but you're squeezing the air out of me."

How the hell did he forget that?

"Oh, uh, sorry," he said, letting go of her. As he did, the bullet sat in the small of her back like it hadn't been inside her at all. "Well, uh. . ."

"I meant it," Sherry said as she pushed herself up to her knees in front of him. "What I said."

"Yeah?" Chris said, smiling softly. "I meant it too."

"Good, because otherwise this would have been awkward."

Sherry leaned in to kiss him, resting her hands on his chest. It wasn't hard or needy, but it was perfect for them. His lips were rough, needing balm as he pressed back against her fuller ones, cupping her face to return the affection.

"Let's get out of here and go to a Holiday Inn. I'm pretty sure there's no cults in those," Chris said after pulling away.

"Yeah, I'm gonna need a shower," Sherry said, making a face down at herself.

"I'll help if you want me to," he said, raising a brow.

"I'm sure you would," she said with a snort.

Anyway screw it Ninjago inspired dresses

Jay/Lightning:

Kai/Fire:

Cole/Earth:

Zane/Ice:

Nya/Water (two versions! bc she doesn't like dresses but I was proud of the dress design and even more so of the suit design):

Lloyd/Green:

So like. If you decide to draw them in these I'm not gonna stop you

since when do you dress nicely

Unlucky Months

 Marjan Marwani x fem!reader part I

Sum: Getting into life-threatening accidents seemed like something you would be an olympic champion at, but could something good come out of it?

Word count: 2k

Part II Part III

A/n: Some things may not be accurate because I’m not a professional firefighter and I swear I put much research into like finding out when firefighter shifts end but only got their schedules (aka how Long it takes to do a task) and I’m so sorry that it took so long

You had to be the unluckiest person in the world. In a matter of two months, you had gotten into not one, not two but four accidents. Two of them being car crashes(you drove at only one of them), one of them being your apartment building catching fire and last one being you getting trapped at an underground parking lot.

And every single time, the same firefighters came to your rescue.

“Hello Miss, I am- Y/n? You again? Wow,” you heard the familiar laughter of Marjan as you waited to be rescued from the rented car that had you knew full well had a giant piece of cement on it. No way, not them again. Your face flushed, your unluckiness was embarrassing.

Keep reading

repast 😂

herogasm ~ soldier boy;the boys

word count: 3678

request?: no

description: in which she’s trying to leave the supe orgy, just to stumble into the room of the man who started it

pairing: soldier boy x female!reader

warnings: swearing, smut (fingering, praise, unprotected p in v), mentions of herogasm (the event, not the episode)

masterlist (one, two, three)

Keep reading

Leon Kennedy Tramp Stamp Mod

Created by TrieuPham/ Uploaded by rt134

Original Concept Creator @maykitz

Burning

Pairing: Bobby Nash x Male!Reader

Rating: Mature

Summary: You’re finally cleared by your doctor for normal activities—not by your Captain of course—but Athena thinks you two can bend the rules a little bit. What happens when you finally run into the 118 team that Athena has mentioned?

A/N: My first 9-1-1 fic! It’s been a long time coming! Takes place a few months or more after the tsunami episode, so the timeline might not be all correct but…oh well. As much as I adore Bathena, it’s not established in this fic and for all intents and purposes, they’re just friends. There is art scattered in the fic and there is my interpretation of the main character but in no way is that how he has to look—there are no specific descriptors in the writing for hair, eyes, skin color, etc. By all means, if you’d like to create your own version of him, I’d love to see it!

Warnings: canon typical injuries, male!reader (no y/n), mentions of blood and burns, first kiss, Bi!Bobby, older man/younger man, meet cute

Groaning and flexing my forearm for the fourth time that morning, I sighed and closed the file on my desk and pushed it aside. I reached for my coffee mug with my good hand before pulling it back and reaching for it with the arm I could actually use now. I grimaced as lukewarm liquid touched my lips, having half a mind to get up and warm it up when I heard a couple short raps on the doorframe of the office I was inhabiting in the short term.

“Sergeant Grant,” I grinned with a sing-songy lilt to my voice, leaning back in my seat as I looked up at her.

“How’s the arm doing, Officer?” she grinned with her voice equally as playful while dropping my last name, with her own coffee clasped between her hands.

“Oh you know…” I shrugged, putting it through some motions. “Doc said I didn’t have to wear a sling anymore and I can start working it out again at a hundred percent, so that’s good.”

“If it's any consolation, you don’t look like you lost muscle in that arm,” she pursed her lips and laughed.

“It’s nice to know someone’s looking,” I chuckled, taking another disgusting sip. “So, what can I do for you?”

“It’s more like what I can do for you,” she sauntered in and took a seat across from me. “I spoke to Cap and she might have agreed for me to take you out on patrol with me.”

“No…” I breathed in disbelief, knowing full well the Captain had just told me I wasn’t cleared for leading field work yet or training any new officers.

“Unless you’re too busy, of course,” Athena dismissed, scooting her chair back and standing up, gesturing to the pile of folders on my desk with her eyebrows.

“Not too busy!” I exclaimed quickly, standing before she could leave the room. “It’s just busy work and evaluations anyway…”

“Are you su—“

“—very sure,” I responded before she could finish, grabbing my bag and vest for patrol from the floor next to me.

Athena simply gave me an amused grin and nodded her head for me to follow her out.

“Don’t laugh at me, I was going crazy stuck to a desk, Athena.”

“I’m not surprised, you hyperactive man-baby.”

—

We prepped her patrol car, making sure everything was situated and tossing my bag in the trunk of the Explorer. I hesitated in the back, looking at my body armor secured to my bag. Before the tsunami, I would have had it on as soon as I got to the station, but being on desk duty for the last few months, I hadn’t needed it. It was unlikely I would need it in Athena’s beat, but I knew I would feel less uneasy with it on.

Now, I just had to get it on without completely disrobing or jostling my shirt-stays. As I contemplated my predicament, I undid my uniform shirt all the way down to my belt. I opened the Velcro flaps on my vest and began an awkward shimmy of sliding the back of the vest underneath and behind my collar, sliding my head through the middle, and letting the front flap over my chest. I rolled my shoulders to let it fall in place on its own and tugged my open shirt to get any material stuck underneath the vest out. When I was situated, I closed up the Velcro sides snuggly and buttoned up my shirt.

“Are you lost or—“ Athena asked impatiently—having already checked to make sure the vehicle was in order—coming around to the back of the patrol vehicle while I fussed with my buttons.

“Sorry, one sec,” I offered apologetically.

“I’m not taking you to any high risk calls, so don’t get too excited,” she laughed saying my name like that of an over-eager child. “Cap would have my head.”

“Hey, take it easy on me, Athena. I used to work narcotics and those calls were never chill, so this puts me at ease a little.”

“Alright, alright. Hurry up, before I tell Cap about that very non regulation patch on your body armor,” she gave me a pointed look, glancing down at the terrible sewing job I had done on my body armor that held a small pansexual flag. The Sergeant pushed her sunglasses up to her face but not before winking in my direction to let me know she was joking.

Piling in to the Explorer, Athena immediately got on the radio, “This is 727-A-30, we are 10-8.”

I tuned out the radio conversation after that, knowing Athena would be giving our info to dispatch quickly as we pulled out of the station. 

—

We started patrolling her beat, finding it fairly quiet but knowing better than to voice that out loud. Not twenty minutes into our patrol shift, did Athena’s phone start pinging messages in quick succession from where it hung in the dash mount. 

“Damn, ‘Thena, you got a hot date or what?” I snorted, trying to sneakily grab her phone but telegraphing my movements purposely so she’d slap me away.

“Oh shut it,” she slapped my arm. “Your doctor cleared you so I won’t feel bad if I have to hit you harder.”

“I expect nothing less, sarge,” I grinned. “But, come on, you know I love me some chisme, cough it up.”

“It’s nothing,” she rolled her eyes, quickly replying as we stopped at a red light.

“Oooh, is it about me?” I waggled my eyebrows, while she gave me a blank stare from behind her sunglasses.

The patrol car was silent for a few moments, the only sound being from outside the car and the radio faintly playing.

“Yes, it was about you,” I finally heard her mumble.

“I knew it! Let me see!” I made grabby hands for her phone.

“I’m gonna regret this,” she sighed and tossed the phone in my lap.

I laughed as I scrolled to the beginning of the conversation, someone by the name of “Maddie” starting off by asking who I was and why I was with Athena when she usually patrolled solo, with the eyes emoji to end the question.

The transfer from Pacific I told you about! - Athena

Ooh! Pics! I remember you talking about him! He sounds hot! -Maddie

Pics! -Hen

Show us! -Eddie

He’s a dork, but he’s cool. - Athena

Oh, he IS hot! -Maddie

Seconded! -Eddie

Hey! -Buck

Sorry… -Eddie

You’re right, though -Buck

I’m NOT asking out a subordinate, stop it -Athena

“Hey, I’m not a dork,” I teased.

“You so are.”

“How did this Maddie person know I was with you so fast anyway…?” I drifted off as another text came in.

“She’s a dispatcher. Everyone else there is from the 118. Her brother and boyfriend are with the 118, too. You’ll probably run into them a lot on patrol, that’s how I met them anyway.”

You definitely withheld the hot part from me, Athena -Bobby

Ooooo, Cap! -Hen

“Ooh, firefighters…mmm,” I sighed dreamily just to annoy her. “And who is Bobby? He looks fine as hell and he just called me hot.” I hurriedly clicked on his contact photo to get a better look.

“The 118 Captain. I knew your gay little heart wouldn’t be able to resist him,” she laughed and took the phone from me.

“I’m not gay, ‘Thena, I’m pansexual. You know this!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. You just only talk about the guys, so I forget sometimes.”

“That’s because they usually have the most drama,” I snorted. “So, you’re forgiven.”

“I’m pretty sure he’s straight, though. Well, I’ve never heard him talk about going out with any men, so I suppose I’m just assuming.”

“Oh, I will be devastated if he is,” I rolled my eyes and sighed. “What about you?”

“Nah, after Michael…I’ve been taking some time for me. I didn’t want to jump into anyone’s arms, I’m too focused on my kids after the divorce, you know?”

“Aw, yea, I understand. But, you know I’d take you out in a heartbeat if you let me,” I shot her a smile.

“You are too young for me!” She scoffed and shook her head.

“No, you’re just experienced,” I winked. “Also, I take offense to that. I’m in my thirties with two degrees and a career, ma’am.”

“Lord help me.”

—

“911, What’s your emergency?”

“My mother! She’s out of control! THIS IS A NIGHTMARE!” wild screaming arises in the background, “Get away from me! YOU’VE OFFICIALLY LOST IT!”

“This is dispatch requesting a unit at 294 Moreno Drive. Reports of a family disturbance and possible assault.”

“Dispatch, this is 727-A-30 handling.”

“10-4, 727-A-30.”

Athena flicked the sirens and lights on and sighed heavily as we sped off to the call, “Oh boy.”

—

“727-A-30, 10-97 on scene,” Athena announced into her radio.

“I’m just saying, thin crust is delicious but my fat ass will eat the whole thing. So, I never allow myself to get it!” I groaned to Athena.

“Or you could have some self control lik—”

I glared at Athena and smirked thinking my glare cut her off but saw her staring past me.

“You’re psychotic! All of you!” a high pitched yell sounded as the front door of the house ripped open.

A middle-aged woman wielding a brightly colored, tissue paper covered stick stormed out of the house followed by a flock of elderly people.

“I told you not to come!” a half dressed older lady shouted back at her.

Oh shit. I immediately averted my eyes at the sight, hearing Athena chuckle behind me.

“It’s your birthday! I was just supposed to ignore that!?” She flailed the stick around.

“Obviously!”

“Mom, did you order strippers!?” the woman screamed, finally noticing Athena and me.

“Honey, you called 911,” an older man, likely her father, spoke up from next to her mother.

“Well, Mom was stripping and doing body shots!”

“I just turned seventy! Let me live a little! Also, you hit me with that stick!”

“Yea, to knock some sen—”

“Okay!” I spoke up, ending the argument. “I’m flattered you think I could pass as a stripper but I’m going to have to ask you to put the piñata stick down, ma’am,” I held my hands out as non-threateningly as possible. When she didn’t immediately put it down, I cocked my head and gave a slower warning, “Ma’am…”

“Yea, yea, fine,” she rolled her eyes and thrust the stick at me. 

I jumped but grabbed it tightly and and took it from her hands. Athena took it from me and held it far out of reach.

“Now, are we pressing charges and do you need medical attention?” I looked pointedly at the mother.

“No…no…” the mother waved me off.

“Press charges against me? I called you!”

“You also assaulted someone, so it doesn’t matter who called us,” I sighed, resting my hands on my duty belt. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave the property.”

The woman huffed and stomped off, making Athena and me sag with relief. 

“I hope you have a nice rest of your party, ma’am,” I smiled and nodded my head to her, her husband, and the rest of the guests who had come out onto the lawn.

I turned back toward Athena, my eyes widening comically and mouthing, “Oh my god,” with an exasperated expression.

“Hey, you said you liked a little experience…” Athena laughed as we got in the car.

“Shut up,” I mumbled with a smirk.

“727-A-30, 10-98.”

“I need some bleach for my eyes,” I sighed heavily.

—

“911, What’s your emergency?”

“I’m trapped! There’s a—a huge pile up on—“ the caller wheezed, “—Wilshire.”

“911, What’s your emergency?” 

“The traffic lights! They’re all green! There’s a huge accident on Wilshire and Irolo.”

“911, What’s your emergency?”

“I’m the manager at Bank of Hope on Wilshire and Vermont, we just had a robbery take place. I think they hit Wells Fargo, too!”

“All available units in the vicinity of Wilshire and Irolo, please respond to a pileup in the intersection for traffic control. Firehouse 118 is arriving on scene shortly.”

“727-A-30, responding,” Athena answered immediately and made a u-turn while turning on the lights and sirens.

“10-4, 727-A-30. Please be advised, 211 just took place on Wilshire and Vermont. A unit has already been dispatched but witnesses report the getaway car heading toward the accident intersection. Suspect is 10-29FD possibly carrying a knife. Gun was left at the scene.”

“10-4, Dispatch. Patch me in to Captain Nash.”

There was silence before the radio crackled finally.

“This is Captain Nash.”

“Bobby, I’m on route to the accident, use extreme caution. Suspect is armed.”

“Athena, dispatch notified us that it was a knife. Have a little faith, I think we can take it,” he chuckled over the radio.

“Bobby…”

“We’ll be looking out, don’t worry. Just arrived on scene.”

Bobby cut out leaving us to listen to the sirens as we sped to the scene.

“Responders, please be advised the getaway vehicle was a black sedan.”

“10-4.”

“Dispatch, there’s three black sedans, proceeding with caution,” Bobby interjected.

We pulled up to the scene eight minutes later, seeing a horrific display of mangled cars, smoke, and flames. A couple LAPD units had already arrived on scene and started directing traffic away from the intersection. Firefighters, the 118 I assumed, were split up around the cars to attend to as many people as they could.

“You find one black sedan, I’ll find another. Clear it and head to the last one.”

“Copy that,” I clipped and opened the door, immediately dropping my hand to my taser to pull out if needed.

I jogged over to where one of the cars was, slowing down as I approached to be able to assess the situation better. I rounded other cars cautiously but didn’t immediately see anyone that screamed “robber” at me, nor evidence of a robbery in the car as I approached it.

I jumped as my radio crackled, “Responders, Station 122 is arriving shortly for medical back up.”

“Athena!” I called out in her general direction, “Clear over here!”

“Here, too! Dispatch, suspect has not been located yet.”

“I’m heading to the nex—” I called out, stopping when I saw an unresponsive woman in her car just a few down from the one I had checked.

The car next to hers had caught fire, which had spread near hers. Her car was leaking fluid, making me curse and not want to find out what it was until it was too late.

“I need an extinguisher here!” I shouted.

I saw a couple of the 118’s heads pop up and look in my direction. Captain Nash's distinctive helmet nodded to his other teammates before running toward the fire truck. 

“Don’t move the victim!” I heard one of them yell.

“She can’t wait! This whole this is about to go up!”

I tried for the door handle but it was dented and crushed. The front of the car was too close to the flames for comfort, so I hastily pulled out a knife and cut the seat belt off her. Leaning into the window to drag her out, my duty belt caught on the broken glass and twisted metal so I couldn’t fully clutch her. With a growl, I let go and unbuckled my belt, letting it drop to the floor and kicking it away from the flames. The fire had spread to the front of her car, licking and burning at my skin as I reached in again for her. I didn’t register any pain from the adrenaline, not stopping until she was fully out of the car and in my arms as I watched the car fully engulf.

“Officer, put her here,” Captain Nash instructed me, running up with a group of EMTs and heading straight to the fire to put it out. 

I placed the woman on the stretcher, making sure they took her to safety as I fetched my belt and strapped it back around my waist. It wasn’t until I cinched it closed that I felt a searing pain in my side just underneath my vest. My breath hitched and a groan of pain escaped my lips, causing Bobby to do a double take as he worked on the flames. I gulped—swaying on my feet as the pain fully registered and threatened to send me into shock—but clenched my teeth as I finished the buckle.

With a nod to Captain Nash, I waited for a responding nod before jogging off to find Athena.

“Sergeant! Nothing…” I slowed my run as I approached her, turning into a slow jog with a limp as it caused more chafing to occur against my wound.

“Nothing at this one either,” she sighed, shaking her head as she took another look in the car. “Either way, this car can’t have been it. It’s too close to the beginning of the pileup. The suspect would have been closer to the outside.”

“You’re right,” I grimaced.

“What’s wrong with you?” She furrowed her brows and stepped over menacingly.

“Nothing. I’m fine, I—,” I paused as her words hit me. “The first one I checked was on the outside…the door was open but it was empty inside I—.”

Shit.

Bobby was over there alone now.

“Captain!” I turned an ran, seeing him speaking with someone near where I left him.

The scene was loud, understandably so, but I slowed as I neared anyway to avoid spooking the potentially dangerous suspect.

“Look, sir, it’s my job to make sure you’re okay. That cut on the side of your head looks pretty bad,” Bobby held his palms out to the man who was clad in all black and clutching a gym bag to his chest. “At least let me make sure you don’t have a concussion,” Bobby stepped closer again.

From where the man’s back was facing me, I saw a glint of metal appearing from his back pocket and felt adrenaline surge through my veins. I took the remaining steps forward and lunged, wrapping my whole hand around his wrist and shoving it up so it was pinned against his lower to mid back.

“Drop it!” I growled. When he didn’t immediately comply, I repeated myself, “Drop it, or I will make you.”

At the lack of movement I bent his wrist inward with my free hand and used the pain of the wrist lock to force him to open his hand. When the knife clattered to the floor, I kicked it away and began slapping cuffs on the man. The bag was cut from his body, since I had trapped it on his body with his arms in cuffs, and Athena took the liberty of guiding him to a free unit to take him in while reading him his rights.

“Come on, I think I could have taken him?” Bobby chuckled as Athena dragged the suspect away. “But thank you.”

I shot him a glare that was soon diluted by a smirk. The smirk soon faded away as my wound throbbed, so I leaned my weight on the car next to me. Whatever the hell I did hurt. A lot. 

“Are you okay?”

“Mhm, just taking a second,” I groaned as I straightened back up. “I should help…”

“Whoa, there,” Bobby stopped me with a hand gripping my tricep, steadying me as I wobbled. “You’re not fine. And anyway, the 122 is here and helping. It’s under control.”

I slumped, watching the firefighters work, but knew he was right. Athena was going to kill me. Then, Bobby was going to resurrect me. And then, my Captain was going to kill me all over again.

“Let me check it out?” He asked, though it definitely felt like more of a gentle demand than a question.

I nodded and let him guide me to the 118 Paramedic truck.

He sat me on the edge of the truck and jumped into the back to clean his hands and find supplies. When he came back out, his hands were covered in black medical gloves and his arms were full of random items.

“You’re gonna have to uh…” he gestured to my torso with his head as he laid the supplies down in the entry way of the back doors of the truck. 

I stood, stepping out of his way as he opened the second door wider for me to place my belt and uniform. The duty belt came off first, making me wince. I watched the firefighter’s eyebrows raise as he saw the slashed front and tattered side of my uniform shirt. The belt fell to the metal flooring with a heavy thud. I paused, willing the pain to subside before moving on to my shirt but to no avail.

“Shirt, too,” Bobby stood with his hands clasped down in front of him. “Or I can cut it off.”

“No need, Captain, just give me a sec,” I grunted and started undoing the buttons.

The hard part came when I had to shrug the shirt off. The movements made me tense up and clench my teeth.

“May I?” Bobby offered with medical shears in hand. “Not like you can wear that shirt again, anyway.”

“Fair enough…”

Bobby made quick work of the uniform shirt, cutting away as much as he could so I wouldn’t have to twist at all. He dropped his hands to where the shirt met my trousers, tugging the material forcefully out of my shirt stays—causing me to wince as the elastic snapped down my legs. He undid the Velcro of my body armor and lifted it over my head. He paused, taking in the slashed material below my patch. Luckily, only the outer covering had been frayed a bit, but no damage to the internal armor.

“Good thing you had this on, could have sliced yourself when you grabbed him,” Bobby indicated to the slice. His thumb ran over the small pink, yellow, and cyan patch, “Nice,” he smirked before setting that aside with my duty belt.

“Yea,” I jumped as he lifted my undershirt, some of my skin catching on the cotton. “You know what that is?”

“‘Course I do,” he stated matter-of-factly and sat on the edge of the truck so he was eye level with my affected side, below where the body armor had covered. “Pansexual flag, right?”

Surprised, I was too shocked to react when he began cleaning the wound, only reacting with a hiss when the delayed sting of antiseptic sunk in.

“Don’t look so shocked,” he laughed, dabbing at the wound to make sure there was nothing foreign in it. “I’m Bi.”

Still speechless, I simply held my shirt up for him as he worked with my mouth slightly open in shock.

“Again, don’t look so surprised,” he chuckled.

“It’s just…sorry. Sorry,” I laughed. “Athena thought you were straight.”

“Talking about me, huh?” He chuckled, making my face heat up before he continued, “Don’t worry, we’ve all discussed you plenty. And, anyway, I mean I’ve never expressly said it. Nor, have I publicly dated a man,” he shrugged. “I wouldn’t be opposed to it, of course.”

By now, Bobby had stopped working on the wound and was just staring up at me with an amused expression on his handsome face. 

“You should close your mouth before you catch something with it, Officer.”

Without thinking, I blurted out my name and immediately apologized, “Sorry, uh, you can…yea you can just call me…yea.”

“Bobby,” he offered me. “Well,” he sighed my name, causing shivers to go up my spine. “Laceration isn’t too deep, you won’t need stitches, thankfully, but it’s also not going to feel nice because the area gets a lot of movement and creasing. The burn around it is pretty enflamed. You won’t need anything major done but this’ll take some time to heal. I have some burn cream if you want it?”

“Please, thank you,” I cleared my throat, hoping to get rid of the raspy, huskiness that had developed. 

Soon, cold, white paste was being gently applied to the burned area and then he was covering it with gauze and tape. I let my under shirt fall back down into place, catching a split second where Bobby’s eyes flicked to the rest of my abdomen before it was covered. 

“Thank you.”

“No problem,” he smiled, pausing briefly to look at his boots. “Would yo—.”

“Cap is going to murder me,” Athena groaned from behind me, startling me out of whatever trance Bobby had pulled me into. “What the hell happened?”

“I—I’m okay…”

“Just a cut and a burn, ‘Thena, he’ll live,” Bobby chuckled, standing and snapping off the gloves now smeared with cream.

“Next time warn your partner before you go gallivanting into a burning car?” 

“Sorry,” I smiled. 

“Mhmm,” she responded, entirely unconvinced. “I gotta get him out of here, Bobby. Is he good to go?” Athena asked, tearing Bobby’s attention from me to her.

“Oh, uh, yea he’s perf—good, he’s good,” Bobby stumbled, a flush creeping up his neck. “It was nice to finally meet you.”

“You as well, Captain Nash,” I smiled, biting the inside of my cheek. I hastily grabbed my duty belt and shredded shirt before following Athena to her patrol car, waving to Bobby with a wince as my skin stretched.

We sat in the silence of the car for a few beats before Athena burst into laughter.

“You damn flirt, I knew it,” she laughed at me.

“Athena, he’s hot,” I whined. “Did you really expect me not to?”

“How about, we don’t tell Captain the extent of your injuries and I won’t tell anyone how shamelessly you flirted with Bobby.”

“To be fair—” I interjected, “—he totally flirted back.”

—

After a stern talking to—in the form of shouting—from our Captain, Athena and I cleaned up, changed, and were confined to the station for the rest of our shift. Athena assured me that we weren’t in actual trouble before we left the station to go home, making me at ease since the last thing I wanted was for her to get in trouble for my stupidity.

Currently, I was too hungry to dwell on it.

I was salivating over a pot of sautéing garlic, crushed red pepper, and oregano for a quick and easy red sauce and stirring loosely so they didn’t burn.  Letting out a wild yawn and grunt, wiping my hands on the towel slung over my bare shoulder and turning to open the refrigerator, feeling my side twinge as I did. I yanked out a protein drink and downed it in two gulps, hoping to stave off my hunger while I cooked, before turning toward my designated medicine cabinet in the kitchen and popping a couple pain relievers. I got back to work and was just picking up a tube of tomato paste, ready to squeeze it in when there was a hesitant knock, followed by two firmer ones. 

I certainly wasn’t expecting any guests, but grumbled and shut off the flame under my pot just in case and moved it to a cool burner. It would be a tragedy if my garlic burned, after all. I didn’t even think twice about my state of undress, clad in only a pair of sweats and socks—with my kitchen towel over my shoulder—before I was yanking my door open to find the last person I expected to be on the other side of it.

Bobby. Dressed in jeans and a worn button down with his hands stuffed in his pockets, he immediately yanked them out and stood straighter like he had at the scene earlier.

“Hey, uh, hope this isn’t too strange—uh,” he scratched the back of his head. “I—uh—wasn’t sure if you had any burn cream and I forgot to sneak you some earlier.”

I didn’t know what to say, my mouth opening and shutting a couple times, “No—I—I was actually going to Instacart some so you saved me a few dollars.”

“Ours is better anyway,” he chuckled before his smile dropped again. “I—er—got your address from Athena, sorry if that was not…good.”

“It’s fine. I’ll give her a stern talking to about giving my address to strange men,” I smiled at his good natured laugh and opened my door wider. “Do you want to come in? I was just making dinner if you’re hungry.”

“Oh, I don’t want to intrude. You look…busy,” he cleared his throat, clearly avoiding looking at my bare chest.

I looked down at myself and chuckled, “Not busy enough to put a shirt on, clearly. But I could be…” I relished watching his neck flush up to his cheeks, “Come on in, I hear you’re the resident cook at the firehouse. I need a chef’s opinion on this sauce.”

Bobby perked up at the offer, “Well, if it’s a professional opinion you need…” He stepped through the doorway, shoulder brushing my chest as he tugged the towel off my shoulder and promptly slapped it over his own in transit. 

“Give me one sec, let me grab a shirt,” I said, jogging over to where I had a black t-shirt thrown over my couch. I did a three-sixty to make sure the rest of the living room wasn’t a complete mess.

“You don’t have to, it’s your apartment,” he mumbled. “Plus, I’m sure that hurts to put on,” Bobby finally looked over at me, his gaze unmistakably on my exposed skin.

“Ah, well,” I shrugged, tugging the shirt on the arm of the injured side, maneuvering my other arm in, and flinging the rest over my head. I smirked to myself when the material clung tightly to my body, probably one size too small for me. “It hurt more taking it off, honestly, and I don’t wanna be too underdressed,” I grinned.

I jogged quickly back over to the kitchen, sliding in my socks near the end and found Bobby gazing at me with an amused upturn of his lips with his arms folded tightly over his chest. Fuck. 

“Had to turn the flame off to answer the door, so let me get this warm again,” I hummed. “Alexa! Play my ‘Oldies but Goodies’ playlist on low.” I ignored her response and immediately began humming and swaying to myself as Billy Joel started playing while I brought the ingredients back up to a good temperature.

“Really? Is that because I’m here?” Bobby shoved my shoulder.

“Hey! I’ll have you know I was raised on this!” I pushed back before grabbing the tube of tomato paste off the counter. I was opening the tube when I stopped and just about broke my neck looking at him quickly.

The sudden movement broke him put of whatever trance he was in while watching me cook, eyes widening in surprise, “What?”

“I’m so rude. Can I get you something to drink? I have water, juice, and—er—protein shakes. I think that’s it.”

“Water's fine, I can get it. Fridge?” at my hum of affirmation he opened the refrigerator behind me and looked back at me in the small space, his voice suddenly very close to my back and neck, “Want one?”

I cleared my suddenly dry throat, “Please.”

Licking my lips, I set back to work and squeezed the paste in the pot before stirring it in. 

“Here you go,” he set the bottle on the counter before twisting his own open and taking a sip.

I fumbled with closing the tube of paste nearly dropping the cap, “Shit—ah!” I squeaked and snatched the cap as it fell. “Sorry. Thank you,” I finally responded, licking paste off my wrist and grimacing at the acidity.

Bobby smiled for the umpteenth time—and god I hope he never stopped—shaking his head as he took another drink, “Athena was right.”

“About what?” I asked, stirring so the ingredients wouldn’t burn.

“You,” he cocked his head at me. “You are a dork.”

“Rude.”

“Maybe,” he teased. “So, what brought you to that station?”

“Mm,” I hummed while opening the can of tomato sauce, “The tsunami actually. It did a number on my old station, I don’t even think it’s up and running yet, I think they’re still running out of another building. But, anyway, during some of the search and rescue, I broke my arm and I’d been in a cast for a while. They transferred me to this station to do more administrative work in the mean time, that’s how I met Athena.”

“Oh wow, I’m sorry.”

“It’s all part of the job,” I shrugged, pouring in the sauce and throwing the flame higher while I stirred. “It’s funny actually. Today, Athena convinced our Captain to let me out on patrol with her since my doctor cleared me for normal exercise with my arm and then that call happened,” I laughed.

“Luckily, you had a strapping firefighter to rescue you,” Bobby teased.

“Luckily, I had a strapping firefighter to rescue, I think you mean,” I teased back, flicking the burner to simmer. 

“Of course, how could I forget my knight in body armor.”

“Damn right,” I winked. “Now, come over here, Chef Nash, and let me know how I did.” I waved my hand in presentation to the simmering pot, “Shit, wait!” I stopped him with a hand between his shoulder and chest—wow, that was firm—to hastily pour some salt in my hand, pinch some, throw it in with a flourish, and toss the rest in the sink. I gave it another stir and stepped back.

Bobby stepped up, grabbed the spoon and dipped his pinky in it. Then, proceeded to push the spoon toward me to do the same while shoving his pinky in his mouth to suck the sauce off. I barely managed to dip my own finger in the spoon as I imagined his tongue lapping the sauce away. By the way his eyes swirled with playfulness, I knew that he knew exactly what he was doing. I could finally breathe again when he released his pinky, taking the opportunity to lick my finger and suck the end with a quick ‘pop’ and a moan thrown in for good measure. 

“It’s really good,” he praised.

“Thank y—”

“—But! We can do better.”

My mouth snapped shut with a pout as Bobby turned and opened my refrigerator with renewed purpose. He hummed to himself quietly before making a noise of success and coming back out with a sprig of leftover basil I had bought for a pesto I made a few days ago.

“You’re a genius!” I groaned, snagging the sprig from him and plucking the leaves off. 

I went to throw them haphazardly into the sauce when Bobby’s hand shot out and grabbed my wrist before I could let them go, “Woah, there.” He guided my hand toward himself, bringing me deliciously close to him. Close enough to breathe in whatever he had sprayed himself with before coming here, and definitely close enough to see the way his eyes dropped to my parted lips. “We can be a little more sophisticated than that,” he breathed, his voice suddenly huskier than it was a few seconds ago.

“Show me.”

“With pleasure,” he licked his bottom lip and plucked the leaves from my fingers. 

I watched as he stepped over to the cutting board where I had chopped the garlic, taking the time to stack the basil leaves on each other before rolling them into a cylinder. He fetched the knife that lay nearby and sliced the leaves with quick, light strokes, leaving green ribbons in his wake. Bobby lifted the cutting board and slid the ribbons into the sauce to simmer, giving me a smug smirk as he turned to face me after. I took the liberty of stirring the sauce while we waited for it to come together.

“It should be good now,” he nodded toward the pot, so I lifted the spoon and dipped my finger right after he did.

He sucked the sauce off his finger with a proud hum and a nod of approval, me not getting as distracted as I did the first time. I stuck my finger my mouth, my eyes immediately falling shut as I tasted the small difference the basil made. Letting my eyes flutter back open as I removed my finger, the air was sucked out of the room as I saw how dark Bobby’s eyes had gotten.

“I concede. You were right.”

Bobby didn’t respond, instead staring at my mouth.

“What’s wrong?”

Snapped out of his stare, Bobby blinked rapidly, “N—nothing, sorry. You have a little sauce…” He mimed the general area with his hand on his own face.

“Oh,” I furrowed my brows and wiped my face with my palm but didn’t feel any. “Did I get it?”

“No, it’s…” he mimed again, stepping closer.

“Whe—” my words were cut off as I felt warm lips on mine.

I sagged into his arms, a sigh escaping my throat as he pressed himself against me. In an attempt to not stretch my side so much, I kept my hands low and framing the sides of Bobby’s torso. It was nice—really nice—and I had to stop myself from deepening the kiss as I felt his hands clutch my upper arms. I let him pull away but kept him close since he didn’t step back.

“Bobby…”

“I’m sorry, that was inappro—”

“No…” I shook my head. I leaned forward again, just enough to feel his nose touch mine, “Can I…?” I felt him nod against me and dipped my head back in to touch my lips to his, letting my hand on my non-injured side come up to the back of his neck. This kiss was just as short as the last and just as nice, not wanting to overwhelm him so quickly.

“That was…” Bobby trailed off as we separated again.

“…Life changing?” I winked.

Bobby scoffed out a laugh, “I was going to say good, but you ruined it so…”

“Shut up,” I scowled playfully, tugging him back by the belt and kissing him sweetly once more. I furrowed my brows as I pulled back, tilting my head to the side in thought, “There wasn’t anything on my face, was there?” I squinted at him.

“Definitely not,” he let out a soft chuckle.

“Mm,” I hummed, “you’re forgiven.”

We pulled apart, somewhat reluctantly, and served two plates after making sure the stove was shut off. While the kisses were brief, I couldn’t stop licking my lips and remembering what Bobby's felt like on mine. Lingering glances and sly smirks permeated our conversation over dinner. I learned more about him than what Athena divulged to me and I’m sure the same went for him. Soon enough our plates were empty and we were idly chatting over the nearly clean plates. 

“Do you want more?” Bobby spoke up during a lull in the conversation.

“Yea, but I can—,” I stood to go get more, wincing as the skin pulled.

“Nonsense,” Bobby stood and grabbed my plate, balancing both on one forearm. With his free hand, I felt his fingers brush the nape of my neck before disappearing entirely. 

With full bellies, we sat on the couch and picked up the conversation again until it died off into a comfortable silence.

“You shower already?” Bobby muttered as he fished something out of his jean pocket.

“Mm,” I hummed and nodded. “Why? You trying to give me a sponge bath, Nurse Nash?”

“You wish,” he snorted. “Here.”

“Oh, bless,” I sighed, grabbing the burn cream from Bobby. “I’ll switch my gauze out before bed and put it on.”

“I'll do it for you. Bring it out here,” Bobby nodded in the general direction of my bathroom.

“You just want my shirt off again,” I teased.

“I will neither confirm nor deny,” Bobby murmured back with pink cheeks. “But I’m sure it’s easier than twisting.”

“You have a point…” I pursed my lips and headed off to grab my first aid kit from the bathroom. 

When I returned with the box, Bobby was fiddling with the cap of the tube absentmindedly. I set the box on the arm of the couch and reached my arm on my good side back to grab the back of my shirt collar. I yanked the material over my head and let it slide off the arm of my burned side and on to the floor. At some point as I took it off, Bobby stared at the skin revealed to him.

“Earth to Captain Nash,” I snickered at the dazed expression on the older man’s face, letting my hand slip to the back of his head to run over the soft hairs while guiding his head up to look at me.

“Sorry…” Bobby gulped, eyes tracing my form as he felt blindly for the first aid box. 

When he found it, he placed the box in his lap to distract himself, finding gloves, gauze, and tape with little effort. He snapped the gloves on with practiced ease and leaned forward as I stepped in between his legs and turned my side toward him. I winced as he pulled at one end of the tape, grabbing his shoulder with the hand on my bad side for some kind of support as he continued. When the cut and burn were open to the air, Bobby took a second to look it over to make sure it hadn’t gotten worse since the last time he saw it. Satisfied, Bobby twisted open the tube and applied more burn cream, making me shiver from the cold touch. 

I let my fingers curve around the nape of his neck, barely noticing Bobby pressing back against my hand in the slightest of ways. He quickly covered the wound with new gauze and tape and sat back a little to take the gloves off, which he deposited on the closed first aid kit with the other trash. He set the box and trash aside while I deliberated picking up my shirt or not.  

Deciding to leave it on the floor, I looked down at where Bobby sat waiting in quiet contemplation, “So, Captain…” I trailed off, stepping back into his space, which he gladly leaned in for. “…in your professional experience, does ‘kissing it better’ usually work?”

A smile lit up his face, followed by an incredulous snort, “No, never.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, “Though, it might not hurt to try.” Bobby hooked a finger in the waistband of my sweats to pull me closer, glancing up at me once before pressing his lips to the undamaged skin next to the medical tape, “Better?”

“Mmm, no,” I sighed feigning dejection. “Maybe you’re administering it incorrectly.”

“Oh?”

“Mm,” I hummed, leaning forward until I had one knee pressed against the outside of his thigh on the couch cushion.

When he didn’t stop me, I closed the distance further and threw my other knee down so I was straddling his hips but not fulling sitting in his lap just yet. Garnering no complaints, if the way his hands squeezed my thighs were anything to go by, I draped my arms over his shoulders and gave him a playful smirk with my tongue running over my lower lip.

“Here?” He raised his eyebrows, and pressed a kiss to where his mouth height was at my sternum.

“Eh…” I teased, letting my fingers play with the buzzed hair at the nape of his neck.

Bobby hummed dramatically, letting his arm wind around my good side until his hand was splayed over my back. With a sharp tug from Bobby that I hadn’t been expecting, my ass was forced into his lap. A rather embarrassing whine slipped past my lips at the contact.

“Oh, here…?” Bobby murmured, tilting his head to press his lips where my neck met my shoulders.

“A—almost…” I sighed. 

Bobby tilted his head up higher to find a new spot, making me lick my lips in anticipation of feeling his once more. He surged up—finally—but my previous anticipation was wasted as my lips met his chin and a soft pressure pressed against my nose.

“Jerk,” I mumbled against his skin.

Bobby gasped softly, “You mean that didn’t work either?”

“You know it didn’t, Bo—” the words died in my throat as Bobby finally pressed his mouth where I wanted it. 

His lips meshed easily with mine, pressing just as softly as before but with more urgency just below the surface. I moaned suddenly as his lips parted and sucked my bottom lip between his, tongue laving over the skin and—oh—was he good at that. Taking his cue, I returned the urgency, parting my own lips and tentatively meeting his tongue; retreating with a quick flick to the roof of his mouth. Thick, strong fingers dug into my hips while I searched for any purchase on his head but his hair was far too short for me to do much. I settled for running a thumb across his jaw instead—oh that strong jaw—

Bobby suddenly parted, breathing just the slightest bit elevated with his normally thin lips now spit slick and veering on the side of swollen. His hands refused to move, keeping me close as he caught his breath.

“Better?” He panted, licking over his lips.

I was confused for a moment, so worked up that I had forgotten what he was referring to until his knowing smirk made me remember, “Oh! Oh, yes. Much better, Captain. You were definitely administering it wrong initially.”

A soft chuckle escaped his lips, “Good to know, I’ll take notes for my next patient.”

My eyes narrowed at his teasing, a small pout forming on my lips, “Next patient?”

“Well, unless you’re going to go getting hurt again…”

“A hot firefighter told me earlier this was going to take some time to heal…” I trailed off, pursing my lips to hold back a laugh while still running my hands over his hair soothingly. “Plus, I’ve been told I can be a danger to myself on the job—and—well, and off the job. I’m a bit of a klutz, okay?”

A brilliant smile spread over his face, eyes sparkling with humor, “Got it, so…you’d like me to continue being your care provider?”

“If you’re amenable, of course.”

“Would you be available for a consultation this Thursday at seven? No charge, of course, my treat.” 

“I can definitely do that and—” I brought my lips down for another kiss, “—I think we can agree to split the bill, I’m a big boy.”

“You…” Bobby trailed off, eyes looking down appreciatively and landing on my tented sweatpants, “…you sure are, Officer.”

I felt my face redden at the innuendo and the fact that I was very clearly tenting the sweatpants, “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be. Because, believe me, if I wasn’t trapped in jeans right now…” Bobby trailed off with a chuckle. “And with that…I think it’s time for me to go before I lose whatever self control I might have right now.”

“Good idea. I suppose there’s a reason you’re a Captain and I’m most definitely not,” I laughed, pushing myself up and sliding off his lap until I was on my own two feet again. I just about giggled under my breath as Bobby stood, readjusting his jeans to a more comfortable position.

He followed me to the front door, stopping short when he saw the mess in my kitchen, “I should probably help you with that.”

“As nice as that would be…” I cut him off from the entryway, “…the longer you stay, the more both of us will be worked up and I kind of want to wait a couple more dates.”

“Good,” Bobby smiled, moving into my space, “me too.” He caged me in against the wall somewhat, not that I minded, “You should swing by the firehouse some time for food. If you—uh—if you give me your number I can let you know when I make something or need a sous-chef.”

“I’d like that,” I chewed on my lip while fishing my phone from my pocket and making a new contact. I preemptively typed his name out with “Bobby” being the beginning, followed by both a flame and a heart emoji.

Soft laughter bubbled up from Bobby’s throat as I handed the phone to him and he noticed the name.

“Let me know when you get home safe?” I murmured when he handed it back with the contact already saved. I shot him a quick text so he would have my number.

“Of course.”

Bobby pressed me firmly against the wall, stealing another kiss that I was all too willing to give. With a press of his hips against mine, my brain was short circuiting and I had to convince myself all over again that picking him up and carrying him to my bed was not what either of us wanted.

“Think about me later?” I winked as we pulled apart.

“I—uh—most likely will, “ Bobby murmured, his flush meeting his ears instantly. “I’ll see you Thursday, then? I’ll text you with the details,” he finally stepped back and grasped the door handle, twisting it as he spoke.

“You’ll see me Thursday,” I confirmed, following him half way out of the door as he opened it and stepped through.

Like a lovesick teenager, I pressed my back against the door after it closed, hoping to hear back from him like he promised. With a final glance at the mess in my kitchen, I sighed and decided to distract myself with cleaning until then.