Summary - Loki is Drunk and when he gets this way, he blends the line of English and Asgardian. Teaching the Y/n something about his native tongue while staring at her like she is his everything.
*Drabble*
Loki gazed at her lovingly playing with her hair, "Håret ditt er så mykt." He whispered leaning in and kissing her ear making her giggle, when he got drunk, or 'full,' enough he started to speak Asgardian. Which she was never mad at, she thought it was the most attractive thing. "What was that?" She asked her voice was so sweet to him, delicious even he could listen to it all day, he thought. "It means your hair is so soft. You are guddommelig." She nodded slowly saying the word, and completely botching it.
"No, no, no, no say it like this goo - dough - mlay." He instructs like a conductor with his orchestra waving his hands at every syllable. She followed his instructions and said every part slowly and then the word all together. Loki clapped for her and kissed her temple, "vakker jobb, min elskede." She looked at him with anticipation, "what does that one mean?" He paused for a second deciding on what he should say but the ale in system is making him almost lose himself. "It means beautiful job, my love."
Her eyes soften, and her breath hitches, "you have never said that" She nodded to him and buries his head back to the crook of her neck. "You make me lose myself," he reasons with a sigh. "Or your drunk." She laughs and playfully glares at her, "kjære, I am not. I am full. Besides any man or Gods for that matter needs some liquid courage when they are dealing with you."
stop im obsessed with how you write Tony!! I love how capture him as a dad!! <3 also i haven’t been able to stop thinking abt how Tony would act if reader was dating pietro maximoff or maybe how the dynamic with the 3 would be😭 (even if pietro barely had any screen time in the movie💀) I would really like to see how that would play out
OH FUCK YES. FUUUUUCK YEAH BITCH. WE SHARE A MOTHERFUCKING BRAIN CELL FOR REALLLLL.
No bc first of all ALL I can think about are those cute couples online where they’re from different countries and the cute little culture clashes and stuff. Like those tiktoks like “get ready with me to take my european boyfriend to waffle house for the first time! Hope he doesn’t die!” that type of shit. That’s SOOO you and Pietro.
Your dad and his coworkers aka your aunt and uncles all get back from Sokovia with two newbies in tow, and the first thing you do (after making sure he’s alright OBVIOUSLY you were fucking worried sick about him and all of them) so after you give everyone bear hugs and probably give Nat an extra one because you know she has a soft spot for you, and also force Bruce to let you give him a hug too because “YOU ARE NOT IMMUNE TO BEING CARED ABOUT!!!!” something you started saying as a joke when you were younger but really struck a cord with him.
Once hugs have all been doled out and everyone’s sitting in the conversation pit in the penthouse decompressing over some really really really strong coffee (matcha in Bruce’s case, and decaf for Clint because Laura doesn’t want him drinking as much caffeine) Wanda and Pietro are kind of awkwardly sitting nearby. The first thing either of them hear you say is actually incredibly iconic.
“Hey, dad.” you start, a little too calm for what you know he just went through, and he braces himself for whatever very in character sass bomb you’re about to drop.
Tony puts down his coffee cup and gives you a playfully attentive look.
“Yes pumpkin?”
You sigh softly, biting back a knowing smirk.
“...Do you remember what you promised me for my 11th birthday?” You recall.
Tony blinks once, mentally rewinding.
“That was during the Dolly Parton obsession, if I recall.”
“You do.” You nod. “You promised me two things that year. You promised we’d go to Dollywood…”
“Great place.” He adds. You momentarily get distracted by the fond memories of traipsing through Dolly Parton’s theme park with the woman herself on your birthday.
“It really is.” You sigh, before remembering your point. “You also promised me…”
You trail off. The rest of the team look like they’re watching a tennis match, glancing between the two of you with growing interest.
“That none of your robots would turn evil.”
Bruce is the first one to crack, nearly choking on his matcha. Nat struggles not to fall into giggles, and Steve, who’s been uncharacteristically quiet, lets out a noise that screams WELL WELL WELL… I’M NOT THE ONLY ONE WHO TOLD YOU SO.
You and your dad descend into comedic bickering driven by your matched wit and Stark flavored pride. And somehow seeing someone around their age winning an argument against the great Tony Stark makes him seem way less threatening. Not only that, but Wanda and Pietro… they kind of instantly trust you. You’re not scared to call your dad out on his shit. You’re not on his pay roll, you’re not a subordinate, you’re not some member of government who needs to keep him happy.
You’re his kid.
Which means you are MORE than capable of telling him when an idea is bad, or when he needs to let go of something he’s stubbornly holding onto, or when he needs to slow down and be a little more gentle with people at times. So yeah. Safe to say you become the Maximoff whisperer within minutes of their arrival.
Moving onto how Tony would act when you’re dating Pietro, first and foremost expect a LOT. LOT LOT LOT of dad jokes. “Be careful, kid. I heard this guy moves pretty fast.”, “Quicksilver? So you’re second place to some guy named Quickgold?”, “You’re bringing Speedy Gonzalez as your plus one to the banquet in Paris this weekend, right? So do we need to fly him out with us or is he going to save time by running there?” “Yeah, make sure you tell Speed Racer that he still has to use his ID badge instead of zooming past the security checks in the lobby. Happy’s been blowing up my texts about it all week.”
And don’t forget when you, Peter Parker, and Pietro Maximoff are all in the same room together. “Well great. I’ve got two Peters, two kids, two Maximoffs. How do you expect me to keep any of you straight?” He points at Peter. “You need to get yourself a new name, kid. We have too many Peters, it’s just… it’s getting confusing.”
Which of course leads to Peter missing the fact that he’s joking because he takes EVERYTHING your dad says so seriously (until it’s Tony saying “DO NOT. I REPEAT NOT. DO THE THING.” then suddenly it’s a “suggestion”.) and following your dad around trying to convince him that if anyone should change their name it should be Pietro, since Peter’s been there longer even though it’s as an “intern”. Tony considers this and points to Pietro for a counterpoint.
Pietro looks at you while you hold back a laugh.
“Uh… I am basically your son in law, no?” He tries off the cuff with his Sokovian accent that always makes your heart flutter a little. “And… eh- family comes first.”
Tony looks at him for a long, silent moment.
“I like this one.” Tony smirks, kissing your head as he passes by. “You’ve got great taste, kid. I mean, you get it from me so obviously you have great taste.”
So that’s the story of how Pietro keeps his name (Peter does too, don’t worry) and also the story of how your dad decides he approves of your boyfriend.
edit bc the hellsite ate some of my tags:
Wanda and Pietro will have hushed and animated convos in Sokovian talking about how weird America is. "And have you seen the- the cheese where they wrap each slice in plastic-" "THE FUCKING CHEESE COMES WRAPPED IN PLASTIC I KNOW". Wanda ends up actually having an outlet for her deep female ache for her children by helping out around the tower's daycare center (free childcare for any Stark Industries employees, and other people at the tower for business or work or basically any other reason). The little kids and babies and toddlers fucking LOVE her. She's just this cool weird eastern European lady who gives them bandaids even when they don't really need one and sneaks them extra treats and uses her magic to make toys move around. She teaches them Sokovian nursery rhymes and uses the toys/her powers to put on puppet shows that are just the plots of her favorite sitcom episodes.
And Pietro surprisingly LOVES how much space there is to run around. He will literally run up and down EVERY GODDAMN BRIDGE IN THE CITY every day. Not even for exercise. He just does it for fun. To "stretch his legs". oh my god. you'd think it would (eventually) drive Sam fucking crazy because Steve is fast but this guy is LITERALLY a blur. Nope. Sam loves it because now STEVE is the one hearing "on your left, my friend!" every morning when Pietro slows down just enough to be visible/heard so he can pass Steve. Steve... gets it now. he gets the psychological warfare of being tormented by a cocky jogger.
Summary: There are two types of people. | Words: 470 | Warnings: None, fluff.
A/N-> I'm not sure if I have posted this before, so if I have just pretend I didn't :) I got the idea from tik tok btw.
General Masterlist | AO3 |
-&-
The annoying beeping made Wanda grumble in bed, trying unsuccessfully to hide from the noise by pulling the covers over her head.
A giggle was heard next, and to Wanda's happiness, the annoying sound stopped as well.
"You need to get up now if you don't want to be late." You warned gently, and she heard your footsteps in the room until the brightness increased signaling that you had opened the curtains. She grumbled again, cowering further under the covers.
You giggled.
Suddenly the bed shifted and there was a new weight on it. Wanda forced herself to open her eyes as you pulled the covers aside so you could look down at her face.
"Good morning cutie." You whispered charmingly, bringing a soft color to your girlfriend's freshly awakened face. Wanda closed her eyes again, and you smiled at the action. "Hey, baby. Wake up."
With another grumble, she moved closer, effectively hiding against your body. You chuckled but did not reject the hug. "Let me sleep. I'm tired." She mumbled in a voice hoarse with slumber, and you hummed in understanding, knowing that she really should by the time she returned from missions the day before. But today was still Spider Boy's graduation and you both promised to attend.
You were ready for another try when the alarm went off again and you had some difficulty getting free of the girl pulling you back to bed to turn off her cell phone on the corner table.
Back in bed with a sigh, you wrapped Wanda in your arms.
"I think we have a problem, honey." You forced a more serious voice that made Wanda frown and search your gaze, a little more awake than before. But a smile began to form on your lips. "I'm one alarm type of person. While you're the at least five of them type of person. It's the end of our relationship, I'm afraid."
Your joke draws a hearty laugh from her before Wanda grabs the pillow and tries to hit your face with it. The small dodge of the target makes you almost fall out of bed, and soon, the laughter is shared.
"You're very lucky I love you." She retorts with the same tone for the bad joke, just as the pillow falls to the floor and she is practically on top of you. Your hands circle her waist next, and you smile as Wanda leans in to kiss you.
With a quick twist, you are on top but the affected sigh turns into a pout when you don't go back to kissing her.
"I'll love you so much more after you brush your teeth, witchy." You tease one last time and can't even blame her when red energy throws the pillow at your face, knocking you off the bed this time.
bucky stares at the ring on his finger, a fine silver one, then his eyes drift to the one on your finger, golden with a diamond to top it off.
a cover for a mission, a freshly wedded couple on their honeymoon in paris.
he’s not sure how to feel about this.
especially with all of the feelings he has towards you.
“you picked this out, didn’t you?” he asks and you smirk, shrugging your shoulders, “can’t help myself with a little fun.” you say.
he deadpans at you.
“what?” you laugh, “you don’t like it?”
“no, it’s not that.” he huffs, fiddling with the ring, “it’s weird.”
“what's weird?” you ask softly, and when he doesn’t answer, you walk closer to him, so close that your bodies touch as you put your hands on his chest, and you tilt your head up to look at him, and you’re so, so close that he hasn’t had this kind of contact since the forties.
“bucky,” you chide gently, “why is it weird?” you tone is in a hushed whisper, and your face is so close to his that your lips are almost touching.
his heart is going a thousand miles per hour, and with everything he has done as the winter soldier, and with everything he has also done as sergeant barnes, he has never felt so weak in the knees before.
“you’re my best friend.” he whispers and sure you are his best friend, his very best friend that has helped him get through everything, his best friend that has always been by his side, and his best friend that’s almost kissing him right now.
“so?” you hum, tilting your head at him, “don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.” you say, a slight frown on your face and a pout at your lips — he has been giving you one too many mixed signals for the past few months, and it’s not like there is a fine line between friends and lovers at this point, oh no, that line has been gone for too long.
“bucky.” you say softly, trailing your fingers up to his neck until they’re tugging at his hair, “do you love me or not?”
a beat of silence passes.
how is he supposed to answer that? for fuck’s sake, of course he loves you, how could he not? you’re everything for him, his entire world ever since he met you.
so why is he hesitating to answer now?
but when he sees the frown at your face and the hint of tears forming on your waterline and when you begin to pull away with a ‘im sorry’s falling from your lips, he puts his hands at your waist and pulls you close.
“i do.” he mutters softly, “i do love you.”
your breath hitches and you stare up at him, and another beat of silence passes, “then kiss me.” you murmur.
and he does, he presses his lips to your and oh how perfectly they fit against his, how perfectly soft they are, and he can taste the cherry chapstick your always wear on his tongue and he can't help but feel how all of this is familiar to him, how all of it is so, so comforting to him, how his heart beats fast but he's at peace, that he's content.
you peck his lips and you pull away slightly, a giddy smile on your face, “i love you too.” you hum softly.
Hello, lovely readers, here's a comprehensive list of all of your lovely requests of "characters + kinks". They will mostly all be drabbles and posted sporadically, but I wanted to have them all found in one place. Thank you to anyone who sent them in, and just an update: I am no longer accepting this kind of request. And also read the tags/warnings before continuing on!
(If there's no link, it's because I've not written in yet. Please come back and check again another time!)
pairing ; wade wilson (deadpool) x mutant!reader (gender-neutral)
synopsis ; charles sends you to recruit deadpool into the x-men. expectedly, the bastard tries to weasel away from you—and when that doesn’t work, he resorts to his most lethal method: flirtation. that, and taping a kick me sign on your back.
words ; 1.3k
themes ; comedy, mild fluff and action, mutant au
warnings / includes ; mild injury/violence, sexual jokes and foul language, a lil bit of banter/terrible flirting, reader has the mutant ability to harness energy into ropes, wade steals blind al's crocs, reader's implied previous romantic relationship with wolverine, mentions of the rest of the x-men :)
Wade’s place smelled like greasy pizza, put-out cigarettes, and old socks. The door wasn’t locked—in fact, it was slightly ajar, and you could clearly hear Wade and Al bickering about missing Crocs.
“I swear I put them right here!” she vehemently exclaimed, gesturing to a potted plant.
Wade rolled his eyes. “Right—because you always hang your Crocs on our leafy greens.”
Al shuffled somewhere into the back of the house, complaining loudly to herself.
You took that as your cue to silently step in, standing just behind Wade, noting with mild amusement that he was wearing a pair of white Crocs. The very ones Al was searching for, you presumed.
In the blink of an eye, Wade whirled about on the heel of his squeaky, rubbery footwear and brandished a knife. Its strangely warm blade slotted against your throat just as you defensively raised your hands.
“Watch it, Wade,” you warned, though you were not at all worried. His knife lowered and flipped back into the depths of his fluffy bathrobe when he realized who you were.
“Oh. It’s you,” he said. The discolored flesh of his face twitched with a grin. “Did Mr. Metal Dick send you? The bullwhip substitute to watch over the class?” He snickered at his own joke, recalling your mutant ability to harness energy into the form of ropes.
“Piotr is off on vacation with Kitty,” you replied, propping your hands up on your hips.
Wade tipped his head back and guffawed. “Do you think he stays that way under the sheets?”
With a grimace, you pinched the space between your brows and sighed loudly. “Jesus, Wade—I don’t fucking know. Why don’t you ask him next time you see him?”
“Good idea.” He shuffled off to shuck open a box of day-old pizza on the table. “You want?”
“No thanks.”
“You sure? It’s pepperoni. You know how expensive it is to get pepperoni nowadays, in this economy? I’m offering you gold flakes on bread, here.”
“Mhm, I’ll pass.” After a considerable silence, only filled with Wade’s loud munching, you tested the waters by saying, “Charles actually sent me.”
Wade gestured at a chair and nudged for you to take a seat. “McAvoy or Stewart?”
“What? Charles Xavier, who’s McAvoy and Stewart?” You sank down onto the creaky wooden chair, frowning at the baby powder rimming the backboard. It was probably Al’s. Wouldn’t be surprised if it was Wade, though.
Ignoring your question, Wade tilted his head and asked, “How’s Yukio? And her emo-face Megasonic Nuclear Bomb-Head girlfriend?”
You smiled slightly, remembering how they were pestering Logan, who’d been working on fixing a motorcycle back at the mansion when you left.
Wade paused mid-chew. “Oh. Oh-ho-ho, I know what you’re doing here. Charles wants me to join his rag-tag team of circus freaks.”
“Wade—”
“The answer is no.”
“Come on—”
“And he wants me to be around all those kids? In a school? Has he met me?”
“Believe me, I don’t know what he’s thinking, either,” you told him, scoffing. “You’re the last person I’d expect to be on the team but… I trust Charles. If he wants you in, there must be a reason why.”
Holding his hands out, Wade shook his head. “Listen, I’m flattered, really, but Deadpool works solo. Except for that one time I formed the X-Force. But that was a team of people I hand-picked! The X-Men just doesn’t sound up my alley, y’know?”
You blew out a breath and fixed him with a serious expression. “Some day you’re gonna have to pull your head out of your ass and realize that there are people out there who are willing to be your friends. Your family. Don’t throw it away, Wade.”
A muscle in his jaw ticked as he studied you.
“You’re really bad with rejection, aren’t you?” he finally asked, quirking up a brow—or, at least where his eyebrow used to be—and crossed his arms. The Crocs he’d stolen from Al squeaked as he stood up and gestured to the door. “I’m surprised you didn’t go running back to Charles the moment I said no. I’m beginning to think you have a crush on me, or something. Not that I blame you. My face may be fucked but my dick works better than ever. Just ask Al. She’s blind as a bat, but she hears everything in this damn house.”
Immediately, you grimaced. “Ugh. Don’t be crass.”
“What? I thought you were into broken men. Like to pick up their pieces, don’cha? You and Wolvie had that fling once, no? He told me all about it.”
In truth, Logan had told him little to nothing about his brief relationship with you, but Wade had ruthlessly pestered him anyway.
You stiffened at his words, glowering. “You’re exasperating.”
“And you’re looking awfully lovely today. That frown really accentuates your eyes. Makes you look about a decade older.” Wade leaned his weight onto the table, leering over you, patting your back twice. “I find it very attractive.”
With a flick of your hand, a crimson coil of your harnessed energy shot out and thwacked him in his side, and he hissed out a string of curses, backing away from you. You’d burned right through his fluffy white robe, to his simultaneous dismay and astonishment.
“Jesus!” Wade glanced incredulously from you to the slight, shallow gash that formed by his ribs, already starting to heal itself. “That’s actually—that was so fucking cool. Do it again!”
Clearing your throat, you pushed yourself away and stood up. “Final time I’m asking. Yes or no?”
Wade pretended to give it a long, hard think. “Mmh…” He wrinkled his nose. “No.”
“Fine,” you said, rolling your eyes up to the ceiling. “When Piotr comes back from vacation, he’s going to find you and he’s not gonna go as easy on you as I have.”
“Ooh, ouch. Hope he brings some lube with him.” Wade grinned wolfishly.
Completely fed up with him, you ripped out a wad of paper and a pen from your jacket’s pocket, scribbling down your phone number. You folded it in half before shoving it against his chest.
“I’m not giving up on you. I’m a competitive person, Wade. If Piotr was the one to convince you to join, I just wouldn’t be able to bear it.”
“Yeah, yeah, you’re literally obsessed with me, I get it,” he remarked, sparing you a lopsided beam. He made a show of pocketing your number on the side of his robe that wasn’t burnt. “You little minx, you.”
With a final flick of your hand, you lashed out another coil around his foot, and made your way to the door just as he fell back onto the couch with a muffled oomf!
Just as you left, you heard Wade cackling to himself through the door you left partially ajar, just as it was when you came in. You chalked it up to him finding it funny that you managed to trip him over with your powers, and strode away from the shoddy house with your lips twitching upwards.
Wade, however, was laughing because he’d successfully pulled off taping a kick me sign onto your back without you noticing. A low and childish blow, but would certainly make for some fun banter whenever he saw you again—which, he suspected, would be pretty soon.
Plus, Wade thought you were pretty cute when you were riled up.
Ok! Here’s my request for Loki. And the lyrics are: “You only love me when the
Whiskey's pouring
Four in the morning
You only love, you only love
You only love me when the
Night is over
No one to hold ya
You only love, you only love
You only love me when the…”
it could be either playful or quite sad tbh
Whiskey's Pouring
MASTERLIST The Tunes & Tales Collection (Masterlist Soon!)
Pairing: Loki x gn!reader
Words: 644
Requested by: @ashamedbigtime
Prompt: -> "You only love me when the whiskey's pouring, Four in the morning. You only love, You only love, You only love me when the night is over, No one to hold ya, You only love, You only love You only love me when the…"
Warnings/Content: Angst; Sad ending, loki love & kisses, alcohol consumption, based after the events of infinity war
Summary: You grapple the sorrow of lost love.
A/n: Thank you so much for requesting @ashamedbigtime!! I chosed a sad genre for this, hope you like it ;)
The morning sun filters through the sheer curtains, casting a gentle glow over the room. You stir slightly, feeling the warmth of an arm draped around your waist. With a soft smile, you nuzzle closer into the embrace, inhaling the familiar scent that you’ve come to associate with comfort and safety.
“Loki,” you murmur, half asleep, feeling his soft lips against your temple.
Running his fingers through your hair, “Good morning, my love,” he says soothingly. “Did you sleep well?”
You nod, savoring the feeling of his fingers running through your hair. “I always sleep well when you're here.”
He chuckles and plays with your hair, keeping your head in his lap. You look up at him, a tinge of sleepiness still in you, eyes not opened fully, “I can’t quite see you…”
You get up and drink the liquid kept on your nightstand.
The day passes in a blissful haze of domesticity. You laugh together, share stories, and he listens with that intense gaze that makes you feel like the center of the universe, his gorgeous blue eyes gazing at you tenderly. His touch was a constant reassurance, his presence a comforting shadow that never left your side.
As night approaches, you find yourself drawn to the small bar cart in the corner of the room. The amber liquid in the whiskey bottle glistens enticingly, promising to drown out the lingering sorrow that used to gnaw at the edges of your happiness.
“You don’t need that.” He says, his fingers brushing against yours as you reach for the bottle.
You hesitate, his words pulling at your heart. But the ache inside is relentless, and the whiskey promises a momentary relief. You pour yourself a glass, feeling his eyes on you, a mix of concern and sadness in their depths.
Before you could sip, his hands cupped your face, his face looking down at yours, “You don’t need that to feel happy, you have me, my love.”
You shake your head and pull away from him, tasting the first burning sip that numbed the pain you kept away. It was just enough to keep your tears at bay.
You take another, and another, until the room starts to blur around the edges. Loki was still there, always there. Holding you. Whispering sweet nothings in your ear until it’s over midnight and you two are still sitting in the living room clinged to each other on the couch.
You reach forward to take a sip from your glass, but he puts it away, “Shh, I’m here.”
“But it helps.” You argued. The burn of the alcohol was a welcome distraction from the emptiness that threatened to consume you.
Loki sighed, wrapping his arms around you, putting your head against his warm chest. “You only love me when the whiskey's pouring.”
You buried your face in his chest, the tears spilling over. "Don't say that. You know I love you always."
He held you tighter, his lips pressing against your hair. “Then you don't need to drink that. I'm here, love. Always.”
You drank to keep him close, to keep the loneliness at bay.
He laughed with you, held you, whispered sweet nothings in your ear. It was almost like it was all real, like he hadn't left you.
Until the morning came.
You wake up in a panic, slight effects of the drink you consumed still there. You reach for him, “Loki, don't go. Please, don't leave me.”
He smiled sadly, “Darling, who are you talking to? I'm not even here.”
He wasn't here. He had never been here. You were alone, clinging to the memory of a love that had been taken from you too soon.
The nights of imagined bliss were gone, replaced by the harsh light of day and the aching void in your heart.
Loki was gone, and you were alone.
┈➤ Loki Taglist in the comments! Lmk if you want to join or just click this 𖹭
Summary: You end up getting hurt while out in the field questioning a suspect. Thankfully, Detective Barnes is there to help.
Word Count: ~600
Warning(s): crime show level of violence / gun violence / mentions of a near-death experience / injuries + including mild description of injuries / blood / hurt+comfort
Prompt: patching up a wound + at a crime scene
a/n: This is a submission for @real-jane ‘s healing hands writing challenge! Congratulations on the milestone! 🥳 This drabble was inspired by the previous fic I wrote Conflict of Interest , this is placed around a year or so before the events of that fic happen. However, this is a stand-alone drabble, so you don’t need to read the mentioned fic to understand anything, but if you liked the dynamic here, I recommend reading it! 🥰 Thank you for reading! ❤️
“ Watch your step.” Detective Barnes had an arm wrapped around your waist, helping you maneuver through a crowd of officers. You were heading over to the back of an ambulance, a bit too shaken to walk on your own. As soon as you sat on the edge of it, his hands inspected the wound on your right shoulder. You held in any protests as the burning sensation worsened.
“ So much for my favorite coat.” You took it off, grumbling at the sight of the tear in it.
“ That’s what you’re worried about?” There was a smile of disbelief on his face.
The blouse you were wearing was expectedly torn as well. He sent you a sympathetic look when he cut through it to get to your wound. You couldn’t help the tiny gasp that escaped when you laid eyes on it. You finally realized why it felt like it was on fire. A bullet grazed your shoulder, removing a bit of the top layer of skin. The shades of red and pink across the wound assured you it would leave a scar.
“ I promise it looks worse than it actually is,” he held your arm up gently,” This might hurt a little, so hold onto me if you’d like,” his tone was so sincere it surprised you. You hadn’t known him for long, so you hesitated to accept the comfort you needed. Nevertheless, you appreciated the gesture.
He cleaned your wound meticulously, his eyes narrowing in concentration. You bit the inside of your cheek, stopping yourself from wincing. The sudden closeness had you fiddling with the loose threads of your coat that laid across your lap. Your eyes wandered over to his hands that were wrapping a bandage around your arm. This brought your attention to a cut on his index finger. You looked over at the medical kit beside you, searching for a bandaid.
Without thinking, you took a hold of his right hand and placed it on your lap, wiping the blood around his cut with a small gauze pad. You felt his gaze on you as you wrapped the bandaid around his finger.
“ You know I was the one patching you up, right?”
“ Is that your way of thanking me, detective?”
A soft chuckle escaped his lips,“ Thank you,” he paused, his smile fading,” I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have made you come. You got hurt because of me.” He couldn’t meet your eyes, putting the medical supplies back in their case. You placed your hand on his wrist, grabbing his attention.
“ You’re not putting this on yourself. The suspect said he would have legal representation present, so I chose to come. If it weren’t for you, I might not be here right now. So please don’t apologize for saving my life.” You recalled the way the suspect drew his gun to shoot you, a memory you knew would haunt you for a while. If it weren’t for Detective Barnes reacting quickly, pulling you towards him and out of the line of fire, the bullet would’ve done more than just graze you.
“ I know, but I should’ve checked for any weapons in the househ-” You cut him off with a stern look, reminding him of who he was trying to argue with. He let it go, realizing he was disputing with one of the best prosecutors in New York.
“ Although, maybe you could do me a little favor and let Prosecutor Romanoff know what happened here today,” you requested with a playful tone. He blew out a breath, shaking his head, an amused expression overtaking his features. “ No way. She’s your best friend, she’ll go easy on you when you tell her. She’ll kill me once you do.” You shared a laugh at that, the mood becoming lighter.
He finished patching up your wound, the pain diminishing slightly. He held out his hand, helping you off of the ambulance,“ Now, how about I go arrest the bastard so you can take him to court?” You smirked,“ I like the sound of that.”
