imagineannemorgan

[marklikely]

watching movies w the Boys during social time and so far they really like the reanimator green goo and nothing else

[laurens-lil-fics]

hi again it’s me! so i was wondering if you could please do a fanfic on a modern au where firefighter!peter quill gets some burn marks on his chest and his stomach and almost all over his body, and the reader is a beautiful (yet very sexy) nurse, who heals peter up, and falls in love with him?

Heckie yes!

Stay with me. Stay with me.

That was the first thing Peter heard that voice say. He could hear the desperation in her voice, maybe it’s what set her words apart from the others. The raw emotion.

This was an off day for Peter, 10 years as a firefighter you think he’d be prepared for just about anything. And yet here he was, blinking in and out of consciousness in the hospital.

How did he know it was a hospital? For starters those ugly fluorescent lights. He saw them in his nightmares, when he’d dream of his mother. The blinding white walls were another tip. Lastly were the dozens of voices surrounding him, making him feel claustrophobic.

He was caged like an animal, a wounded animal. Then he heard her voice again.

You need to steady your breathing. Breathe with me. In and out… Just like that.

The oxygen mask pressed to his face made him panic, just for a moment, then he focused on her voice once more.

In and out… Shhhh…

The burning on his chest ripped him out of his haze, thrusting him back into the real world. He screamed into the oxygen mask, the ringing in his ears drowning out her voice.

His eyes, wild and panic stricken, bounced around the room, looking at the people and the machines surrounding him. He just barely made out someone shouting about morphine.

Movement at the corner of his eye caught his attention. His head whipped in that direction as the stranger took a needle to his IV.

The woman standing over him set the empty needle aside and looked down at him. Her hair was pulled out of her face, there was sweat on her brow and heavy bags under her eyes.

She was the most beautiful thing he had ever scene.

Another blast of pain had him surging forward. She pressed her hands to his shoulders and forced him to lay back with all her might.

Peter swore those ugly as fuck fluorescent lights formed a halo around her head, maybe it was the morphine.

You’ll be okay… You’re gonna be okay.

He breathed hard and watched her hover above him for a moment longer until his body began to relax. His eyes slowly fluttered shut and he drifted off into a long, dreamless sleep.

Why do breezes sigh every evening… whispering your name as they do…

And why have I the feeling, stars are on my ceiling… I know why and so do you…

It wasn’t the aches in his body or the natural sunlight streaming into his room that woke him up. It was that voice bringing him back to reality.

Peter slowly opened his eyes, wincing at just how bright the daylight was despite the rain clouds forming outside. He looked around the room, familiarizing himself with the space.

Even though he knew she would be there he still froze in place when he saw the woman from the night he was brought in.

She looked a lot more put together this time. She looked like she had gotten some rest since their last encounter. The woman was completely focused on her clipboard and her singing, she didn’t notice Peter was awake until he attempted to sit up in his bed.

“When you dance with me, I’m in heaven when the music- Oh my gosh. Don’t do that.” She set her clipboard on his bedside table and moved to his side as quick as a flash. She rested her hand on his shoulder and gently laid him back onto the bed.

“You need to take it slow,” she said, pulling the remote for the bed from its velcro strap on the wall and showing it to him. “This button will help you sit up… You have severe burns on your torso. You can’t put strain on yourself.”

Peter pressed onto the small arrow button, wincing as the bed began to adjust to his control. Before he could even thank her she left the room, mumbling something about getting him some food.

He sat there for a couple minutes, blankly staring at the tv mounted on the wall. It was playing one of those cook off shows. He usually hated them, but he assumed the nurse had put it on and decided to sit through the yelling and the over the top panic.

She stepped back into the room, setting a tray of food down on the table above his lap.

“I read on your medical records you have no food allergies, so this should be fine… unless you’re on one of those weird gluten free diets…” she trailed off, moving the tray closer to him.

Peter chuckled softly, wincing when he felt his chest ache from the quick movement. He took a sip of the ice water she brought him and sighed happily.

He looked up at her, not really knowing what to say as she began unboxing his meal. Of course his mouth always ran a mile a minute out of his control.

“I’m not like… Like all Freddy Krueger-y am I…?” he asked, motioning to his face.

I’m a fucking idiot.

The nurse laughed and glanced at him, giving him a onceover as she shook her head. “Never heard that term for severe 3rd degree burns before… but no, you’re not all Freddy Krueger-y. Your chest is a little worse for wear… but with some time and a lot of pain meds and aloe vera it’ll be fine.”

She retrieved her clipboard from the other side of his bed and pointed at one of the many buttons on the bed’s remote. “My name’s (Y/n), if you need anything just press this button. I’ll be right back to check on you once you’re done eating.”

Peter looked her over as she left the room, smiling to himself once she was gone.

Once he was done ripping into his food he could feel himself beginning to doze off. He growled to himself and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, hoping to keep himself awake until (Y/n) got back.

He hadn’t realized he dozed off until the sound of little white sneakers on the linoleum floors stirred him.

(Y/n) stood over him, getting the tray together as quietly as she could. She stopped once she realized her patient had woken up and gave him an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up, Mr. Quill.”

“You don’t have to apologize… and you can call me Peter….” he said, feeling butterflies in his stomach when her smile brightened.

“Well, Peter, looks like that turkey has you ready for a nap.” she said, preoccupying herself with the messy tray he had left. “I’m a little surprised, not everyone finishes their food here. Can’t really blame them though, hospital food’s always a little rough.”

“Yeah… I used to visit my mom in the hospital a lot, so I pretty much lived off of it for a while.” he sighed, shifting under the covers only to wince and whine in pain from the burns on his chest.

(Y/n) quickly moved the table aside and stood over him, gently moving his hands away as he clutched his chest.

“Here, let me go ahead and change out these bandages…” she plucked a new roll of bandages from the cabinet on the other side of the room and returned to him. She carefully helped him sit up straight and untied the front of his hospital gown.

Peter heard the heart monitor quickening and screamed at himself to calm the hell down and let the woman do her job. But damn, the way her fingers brushed over his skin as she took off his bandages had him fighting back the burning in his cheeks.

The sight of the burns on his chest were enough to knock his head out of the clouds and send him back to reality. (Y/n) held up a small tube of ointment, warning him that it would probably sting.

After getting a dollop on her fingertips she began gingerly massaging the medicine onto his burns. Sure enough Peter grunted in pain and held his bottom lip between his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut while (Y/n) worked.

“It’s best to let it all out… How about you keep talking, that’ll take your mind off it.” she suggested.

Peter nodded, racking his brain for something, anything to talk about.

“W-Whenever I got sick of the hospital food… m-my grama would being me something…” he said through his gritted teeth, continuing their conversation from earlier. “I think my fav-fuck… my favorite were these grilled cheeses she’d make… she’d always bring em by wrapped in foil… with some tomato soup in tupperware…”

(Y/n) wiped what was left of the ointment onto a tissue and began wrapping Peter’s chest, giving him a small smile. “Sounds like someone’s getting hungry again.”

Peter couldn’t help but chuckle as he breathed through the fading pain. He breathed a sigh of relief once she finished and laid back into the bed.

“Those should heal up in the next week… Hopefully applying that ointment won’t be as painful, it only gets easier from here.” (Y/n) said, her fingers working on retying his hospital gown.

“I’m kind of a baby when it comes to pain, sorry if I’m a little difficult.”

“No, no, it’s alright.” She assured him, gently rubbing his shoulder. “Don’t be afraid to let me know if you’re in any pain. I’m here to take care of you.”

The corners of Peter’s lips quirked up into a small smile and he gave her a slight nod. He sighed happily and laid his head back, relaxing into the bed once she left the room.

The rest of the week was basically the same routine; Peter would wake up, (Y/n) would bring him his meals, change his bandages, then he’d go to sleep. But in between all that Peter tried his best to make small talk with her, get to know her more.

He dropped that sneaky “Oh your boyfriend must be so proud” line the third day in. He almost jumped out of bed when she corrected him, saying she wasn’t dating anyone.

With the burns on his chest already healing he knew he’d be out of the hospital soon. He wasn’t too distraught, he could try to get (Y/n)’s number. Hell, screw “try” he was gonna do it.

His last afternoon in the hospital finally rolled around. His check out was scheduled for 3, it was currently 11.

She’s gonna bring me my lunch, Im gonna ask her for her number, it’ll be fine…

The door to his room opening put the biggest smile on his face, but it dropped once he saw a different nurse walk into the room with his tray of food.

“Good morning, Mr. Quill. How are we feeling today?”

“I… I’m good, is (Y/n) not here today?” Peter asked, looking behind the nurse to see if (Y/n) had trailed in after her.

The nurse frowned and shook her head. “No, I’m afraid she caught the flu from one of her other patients. She won’t be coming in today.”

Peter felt his heart drop out of his chest and into his stomach, along with all hope of ever going on a date with (Y/n).

“But,” she continued, setting the tray down on his table. “She did bring this by a little earlier… I’ll be right back to check on you when you’re done.” She smiled, turning and leaving the room.

Peter eagerly sat up and pulled the table closer, unboxing the food. He smiled wide, realizing what she had sent for him.

A grilled cheese wrapped in foil, and a glass pyrex bowl of tomato soup. A small, folded slip of paper sat between the two and he quickly unfolded it.

I’m willing to make a house call once I get over the flu. Call me.

Sure enough, the seven digits of her phone number along with a small heart sat under her message.