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#nick amaro is a secret nerd
fadedseas · 3 years
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lessons.
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nick amaro x fem!reader
summary: you get held hostage during a confrontation with a serial rapist - feelings ensue
tw: guns, violence, mentions of rape, cursing
(gif not mine but good lord, that expression...)
you knew there was an intrinsic reason you hated school. you knew it was a mistake to ever return to a classroom again. you knew this notion was affirmed as a serial rapist pressed his gun deeper into your skull so hard that you could feel the metal ring of the barrel.
there was something about the stuffiness of a classroom, the monotonous drone of an underpaid and overworked public school teacher (or that of an overpaid and underworked tenured professor) and the unrelenting stiffness of academia that made your skin crawl and your muscles twitch. it was probably why you had tried to get out as soon as possible. college as a scholarship kid with the four years passing quickly in a blur of all-nighters, coffee hangovers and then sweet relief during graduation. you had signed up for the police academy before the ink on your degree was even dry. and now you’re here. 
“now let’s just stay calm,” you closed your eyes at nick’s voice, trying to allow the deep tenor of his voice permeate your bones and calm your trembling. you hadn’t allowed yourself to make eye contact with him ever since the perp had grabbed you right when you had walked in. 
“i know you don’t want to do this.” nick moved slow, his muscles deceptively relaxed under his white button down as he moved slowly towards you and the professor. 
it was supposed to be a cut and dry case. a student from hudson university had walked into a squad room on a wednesday morning reporting a rape, her arms around her middle as if she were holding herself together. you and nick had pounded the pavement, interviewing classmates, boyfriends, administration officials that seemed less than pleased to have the nypd scaring off prospective students and donors. and one name kept appearing time and time again. professor daniel hershaw. english literature. tenured for the past fifteen years. 
“you really think it might be him? he’s the image of a family man. mentor. i mean the guy makes model planes for godssake - he’s a walking cliche.” you mused 
“one thing you learn on this job - most of the time, we’re not pulling rapists off the street. they hunt where they’re trusted.” nick said as he handed you a coffee from the coffee cart with his lips curved into a sad smile. your heart jumped as your fingers brushed. and oh. yes. that was another thing that was happening.
liv had assigned you and nick as partners given that you were the newest recruit and he was one of the senior members of the team. it was late nights, terrible coffee, greasy chinese food and floods of case notes that turned stagnant work chatter into deeper, more revealing conversations. you learned about his tendency to dance to the cuban music station on the radio (”we can work on your moves rookie”), his secret love for musicals, his divorce that had ended a year ago with an aggressive custody battle and long negotiations for weekends and holidays with his daughter, zara. you had learned more about his family, about zara’s obsession with anything disney, about his mother and her fretting, about his father and his tendency to communicate with his fists that made nick’s rage swell whenever your team handled a case involving women with black eyes and voices weak from sobs. 
and he learned of you. of your love for terrible reality tv shows and home cooking blogs that made you way too optimistic of your own cooking skills (”damn rookie, you burned water? i’ll have to teach you how to cook some ropa vieja someday - we’ll work up to it”); of your nightmares about each victim you’ve seen from your years in homicide and how their last expressions have been etched into your memory; of your parents and their incessant pushing for college and their disappointment when you joined the force. 
and you learned about the strong curve of his arms as he held you in his arms the first time you had shot and killed a perp who was raising a gun at you. the smell of his cologne and old spice filling your lungs as you tried to steady your breath. the flutter of his lips against your ear as he whispered that it was going to be ok. you learned about the roughness of his voice when he called you, late at night after drinking away his sorrows of his previous marriage at the bar and you learned about how he nursed his his hangovers the subsequent day when you curled up with him on his couch, not quite touching, after you had come over the night before to make sure he had gotten home safe and didn’t choke on his own vomit. you learned about the unfamiliar pressure of your chest as you realized that somehow, somewhere down the line of cold morning rides around the city, warm coffee, inside jokes, and progressively lingering stares across the squad room - you were in love. 
and now you were learning about his hostage negotiation skills.
it was a mistake to have spoken to the professor’s wife before you arrived at the classroom. she seemed entirely too calm about the matter, methodically pouring you and nick tea as she answered your question in short, snipped sentences. you made sure to note the gun cabinet as you left through the front door. you didn’t note the cell phone in her hand as she closed the door behind you. 
“stay back or i swear i’ll shoot her.” professor hershaw’s hand trembled as he kept pressing the metal into your head. 
“ok! ok! i’m staying back.” nick stopped his progress towards you. you could see the slight shake of his legs from the tension. 
“put your weapon down!” the professor barks behind you. 
 nick lifts his hands and your breath caught in your throat as he slowly kneels places his gun on the floor. he wasn’t wearing a bulletproof vest. you hadn’t expected a confrontation like this. he was completely open and exposed to a man with a gun.
since you had worked closely with the dead prior to this position, you had often thought about how you would die. you knew it was possible you could die in the line of duty. hundreds did every day. but you didn’t think it would be here. in front of nick. in front of the man you’ve been in love with for the past year. you didn’t think it would be before he taught you how to dance or cook or whether he would ever fix the radiator in his car. before you ever felt his lips against your and whether that would feel as slow and passionate as you had often fantasized it would. before you even had the chance to tell him how you felt. so many plot lines unfulfilled. so many questions left unanswered. but at the moment, all you could think about was how you wanted to look into his eyes once more before you died.
“you’re a good man. you got kids - good ones. i’ve met them -” nick’s tone was placating, slow.
“don’t talk about my children!” the professor jerked his gun, knocking your head a bit to the side, “i know they’re good. i raised them. better than the whores that walk through these halls. in these classrooms.”
“yea. yea i understand professor. it’s unfair - all of them just get to walk around like they own the place. like there’s no consequences for them -”
“exactly,” you could feel his spittle on the back of your head, “i showed them the lesson they deserved.” 
nick’s eyes moved from the perp to meet yours. and a shudder of warmth flowed through you as you saw fear, anger, determination - and something else that as more than you could process at the moment. but you did catch his slight nod. “that’s right. you punished them. rightfully so. because - it’s like you wrote about right? ‘Vengeance comes from the individual and punishment from God.’“
"you - you read victor hugo?” the professor stuttered, his arm slacked slightly in shock and there it was. you immediately ripped yourself from his arms as he staggered back in surprise. you dived for the floor as you heard the professor’s shout echo on the walls of the lecture hall and a gunshot. and then silence. 
you scrambled up, drawing your weapon quickly, your heart in your chest, terrified at what you might see. 
“call a bus!” you felt your entire body relax as you saw nick towering over the professor with his gun drawn and a bullet wound in the professor’s shoulder. 
later, much later, after you had been subject to medical exams by ems (albeit quite reluctantly) with nick hovering behind the paramedic’s shoulder like an unfriendly poltergeist that radiated anxiety, after liv had ordered you to take a few days, after you had returned to the squad room to fill out some paperwork in nick’s car as the both of you sat in heavy silence with too many things left unsaid between you two. you finally had a moment alone with your partner. 
most of the team had left with liv retiring to her office to have a quick call with the babysitter and say goodnight to noah. fin had clapped you on the shoulder and amanda had stopped by with coffee and an offer to let her know if you needed anything before she left to take care of the kids. the night shift had transferred in and you were finishing up the last words of the report when you sensed a presence and looked up. nick was standing by your desk, his lips in a firm line and brow furrowed. 
“can we talk?” he gestured towards the bunks. your heart flipped as you nodded, scribbling your signature onto the paperwork and shutting the file.
nick closed the door behind you. and you waited until the silence between you became unbearable.
“thank you for everything today nick. i mean - you saved my life. i could have died today and -”
“i know.” his voice seemed unnaturally loud in the quiet room. nick paced the floor, his hands gripping at his thick, dark hair. “i know you could’ve died. and i can’t stop seeing it. there’s just - i can’t describe how i felt watching him touch you. seeing how afraid you were. and how f**king helpless i was when all i wanted to do was just take your place - and when i finally got him away from you - i just wanted to -” he collapsed on a bunk and covered his eyes with his palms. 
you moved towards him, placing your hands on his shoulders, feeling the crisp fabric of his shirt crinkle under the heat of your hands. 
“you just wanted to what?”
nick lifted his head to meet your gaze, “you know you’re my partner. and there’s nothing i wouldn’t do to protect you. you’ve been there through everything this past year and i kept telling myself that i didn’t deserve everything you’ve been doing for me - didn’t deserve you.”  
you inhaled sharply, “nick - “
“i love you. there, i said it. and that was all i could think about today. losing someone else in my life that i love.” he sighed, rubbing his hand across his face, “i’ve been in love with you since that christmas party when you walked in with discount boy george - “
“kevin,” you automatically corrected the name of your old friend from college that you had brought as a date. 
“and you were just so beautiful. and i know that i don’t deserve you. but i just couldn’t stop wanting you. hoping for you. and it’s so selfish -”
he never got to finish his sentence. because by that point you had fully processed his words. you framed his face in your hands, bent down and pressed your lips against his. 
and suddenly all you could think, feel or taste was nick and his mouth moving against yours - warm, firm, steady - just like him. you were pushed back as nick got up from the bunk, his hands gripping your waist. you separated for a moment, drawing back to look into his eyes. beautiful brown. just like you never thought you would ever see again. 
and then nick pushed his body against yours, pressing you against the wall of the bunk room, his lips sweeping the corners of your mouth before exploring down your neck. 
“f**k - i thought i was going to lose you.” he growled, puncturing each word with a kiss and a nip at your neck. you gasped, your fingers diving deep into his hair. 
“never - you’ll never lose me nick. i never want to be apart from you.” 
nick dragged his face up to your, pulling you into a ferocious kiss, dominating you as his tongue swept through your mouth. his hands, large and seemingly burning, explored your back, and you shivered his his fingers played with the hem of your shirt. 
“everything about you,” his lips were everywhere, your hair, forehead, cheeks, “i cannot lose - do you understand me mi alma.” he closed his eyes, muttering in spanish as he held you close.  
you nodded, feeling intoxicated in his presence, his smell, the feeling of his body against yours. your hands gripped his shirt pulling him to you, anchoring yourself in the storm of his affection, “i got you. i love you too nick. i’m ok. i’m going to be ok.” you repeated the last sentence as nick’s body slowly went lax. 
he pressed his forehead to yours, and your breath caught at the vulnerability in his expression. “i know you’re going to be ok. it’ll just take a while before i get the image of you held at gunpoint out of my head every second of the day.” 
you smiled, pressing your hand against his cheek, “then i’ll be right beside you. reminding you that i’m right here.” his lips twitched as he grasped one of your hands from his chest, sweeping kisses across his knuckles.
“i know quierida.” 
you both stood in silence for a moment, basking in the presence of each other and the feelings you had just released. your heart felt lighter than it had in a very long time, and the butterflies in your stomach settled as nick’s body heat calmed you. 
“i’m tired, and i want to go home. come with me?” your request was bold but you trusted nick more than anyone to keep you safe. and you weren’t looking forward to the nightmares you knew would be resurfacing.
“i wouldn’t be anywhere else.” nick pressed kisses across your hairline. 
you both exited the bunks, and tried to suppress the red that bloomed across your faces. liv was exiting her office with her coat on and her bag slung on her shoulder. she raised an eyebrow as you both approached her.
“well i expect not you see you here for a few days,” she reiterated to you, “good night guys - try not to stay too late.” she turned and then paused, “and i expect the paperwork about your relationship on my desk by the time you get back from leave.” without another word, olivia exited to the elevators.
“oh god.” you placed your head in your hands, unable to stop the burning in your face and neck. nick strolled over to your desk, chuckling. 
“well she’s captain for a reason. you really can’t get anything past liv.” 
you rolled your eyes, “great, more paperwork to do then.” 
nick smiled as he swooped down for another quick kiss when no one was watching, “it’s all for a good cause. c’mon, let’s grab your bag and go. it’s late.” 
you laughed and nodded. grabbing your coat off the back of your chair and putting it on. as you and nick walked out of the station, hand-in-hand, a thought occurred to you - 
“when did you read victor hugo?”
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