#AND I FEEL LIKE HE SHOULD HAVE HAD A CRUTCH

[lulunothulu]

“So you think I’m hot?” Pt. 4 (finale?)

Tyler Owens x Reader

Summary: A week after you’ve completely healed, you’re on your way to go chase a tornado with Kate and Javi when Tyler stops you. Seems like you’re owed something.

Content: flirting, FLUFF, FINALLY KISSING THIS MAN

A/N: Imagine this is the face he makes after you guys finally kiss and Boone is hyping him up 😭 brb gonna daydream about kissing him.

It had been a week since Tyler almost kissed you in your hotel room. And every day since then, he had been coming to your room and bringing you food, changing your bandage, and just spending time with you.

The more time you spend with him, made you realize that you really liked him. You could feel yourself fall for him and you didn’t mind it.

He was sweet, funny, and thoughtful.

You told him you were craving a cookie? The next day he’d have a dozen cookies for you. You wanted to go for a walk? He’d help you walk around on your crutches—then with a cane—until you got tired and he’d carry you back to your room. He even went with you to get the stitches removed, holding your hand when you were in pain and scared.

Hell, he even helped room service change your bedsheets to keep things fresh.

Never once did he try to kiss you. And by God, did you desperately want him to.

But no, he was a perfect gentleman, waiting until the week was up—and you were back to normal.

Now, you were getting the truck ready to get some last minute data on a tornado a few miles away. You’re back to everyone, Kate and Javi talking in front of the truck.

“I told you, we should go east,” Kate tells Javi.

“Yeah but what if you’re wrong?” Javi argues.

You pop your head out of the truck and yell, “Javi, she’s never wrong! Get your head out of your ass!”

“See, this is why I missed her,” Kate smiles.

“Of course you would,” Javi starts, rolling his eyes. “You always gotta team up on me.”

“You love us!” You say.

Javi looks past you before smiling. “Not as much as the cowboy.”

You turn to see what Javi was looking at to see Tyler jogging toward you, Boone and Lilly behind him.

You close the door to the truck and cross your arms over your chest, smiling faintly.

“Well, looks like you’re all better,” Tyler smiles when he reaches you. “I wonder who was your nurse, I’d love to thank them.”

You shake your head before placing your hands on your hips. “That would be you, dumbass.”

His smile widens at the teasing name. “Oh shit, you’re right.”

“So are you guys gonna chase that tornado a few miles east?” You ask.

“We were planning on it,” he tells you.

“Tyler has to do something first!” Boone says from behind.

You raise a brow before stepping closer to Tyler, a smile forming on your lips.

“Oh? And what’s that?”

Tyler hesitates, something you’d never seen him do. He scratches the back of his neck before taking a step closer to you.

“It’s been a week,” he starts.

“Yeah?” You smile, stepping even closer.

“And you’re all healed,” he continues, also taking another step closer, making you two touch chests.

“And?” You tease, wrapping your arms around his neck, standing on your tiptoes.

He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you as close and as tight as he can without hurting you.

“And I think we had a deal?” He says it as a question, almost daring you to say yes.

You glance over Tyler’s shoulder to find Boone and Lilly giving you the thumbs up with animated smiles. You chuckle at them before facing Tyler again. His eyes are expectant, waiting for your response.

“We did, didn’t we?” You softly agree.

Tyler nods, not wanting to say anything and holding his breath.

You pull him closer, practically a centimeter away. His breathing tickles the top of your lip, making you smile.

“So then what’re you waiting for?” You whisper, lips softly brushing his.

Tyler doesn’t answer. Instead, he presses his lips to yours, his arms wrapping around you so tightly you almost loose your breath.

His lips are soft and warm against yours. They move, searching and exploring yours and you make sure to match them. Your body is warm, it was already fairly hot out, but now? It was burning in the best way possible.

One of Tyler’s hand moves from your waist to the back of your head and you can’t help but smile into the kiss.

His tongue pushes past yours, wrestling to taste every inch of your mouth before finally settling back and enjoying the taste.

“Okay, that’s enough,” you hear Javi gag.

You and Tyler pull away, noses red and smiles plastered on your faces. You can’t stop smiling and you don’t want to either. You would kiss him for the rest of the day if you could.

“I’ll see you later?” Tyler asks breathlessly.

“Definitely,” you respond. “You know my room number.”

“I meant at the tornado sighting, but that definitely works too,” he smiles.

“Alright lover boy,” Javi says, pulling your arm before hoisting you onto his shoulders. “We gotta go get that tornado, Y/N.”

As Javi turns and walks you to the truck, you see Boone slapping and high fiving Tyler. “You finally did it my man!”

“I can’t believe you finally kissed her,” Lilly adds.

But all Tyler can do is beam at you.

He was definitely hot.

A/N: I felt like this was so short 😭 but I think I closed this out as much as I could. I have more Tyler x Reader fics coming (maybe I’ll keep the same couple? Let me know!!) Anyway, thank you for reading!! Check out my Masterlist for more! Also please feel free to leave me requests, my brain is slowly losing ideas 😂

Previous parts: PART 1, PART 2, PART 3

[chheolie]

"tell your neighbor to find another personal driver"

jealous y/n

it was around three in the afternoon when you were holding your phone, looking at the screen showing the chat with your boyfriend, seungcheol. your fingers were still as you thought about the best way to express how intrigued you were. then, the words began to flow:

you: "oh, hey there! just casually wondering who that stunningly beautiful woman was sitting in the passenger seat of your car a few minutes ago? you know, the one that could easily be mistaken for a drama star? i mean, she's obviously someone very special to get a prime spot in your vehicle. just curious!"

seungcheol read the message laughing but still innocent, replied twenty minutes later:

seungcheol: "ah, that was my neighbor. i ran into her and offered a ride since we were going to the same place. where did you see us?"

you rolled your eyes at his shallow response. how could he be so distracted?

you: "oh, that's a secret." you: "you don't think you're forgetting something, do you?"

at that moment, he frowned, trying to recall something important, but nothing came up.

seungcheol: "i'm not sure, love. did i forget something?"

you: "MY RIDE CHOI SEUNGCHEOL!!!!"

he automatically slapped his forehead, feeling regret spread through his body.

seungcheol: "oh my god, my love, i'm so sorry." seungcheol: "i'm coming right now, won't take long!" you:

you: "it's too late, my brother already took care of it." seungcheol: "then i'll go to your place and meet you there." you: "no need, seungcheol, seriously."

you weren't the only one sulking in the car; mingyu was too. he had an important commitment but had to interrupt it when you called. it wasn't like you could just leave on your own; your condition didn't allow it.

"your boyfriend is going to pay for this, you'll see," he said, focused on the traffic.

"want help with whatever you're planning to do to him?" you said, looking out the car window.

your brother ended up laughing at your pathetic situation, recalling when he parked the car in front of the medical center and saw you with a grumpy face, leaning on the crutch.

"is his neighbor really that pretty?" he asked, chuckling.

"very funny, kim mingyu," you replied with a clearly forced laugh.

"don't worry, i bet she's not prettier than you," he said.

"of course, i'm your twin."

mingyu dropped you off at your apartment and, back in the parking lot, called his brother-in-law.

he didn't even wait for seungcheol to say "hello" to voice his indignation. "hyung! you promised to take care of y/n while she has her leg in a cast. i had to interrupt an important commitment to pick her up."

seungcheol, even on the phone, lowered his head, feeling the lack of responsibility on his part.

"i'm really sorry, mingyu. i genuinely forgot about her appointment, it won't happen again."

mingyu sighed heavily, still upset, but he trusted his friend and knew seungcheol was sincere. "i hope it doesn't, she counts on your help."

seungcheol, apprehensive and worried, took the opportunity to ask: "was she very upset?"

mingyu raised an eyebrow, curious. "about what? the pretty neighbor or you forgetting to pick her up?"

seungcheol sighed, feeling guilty. "both."

mingyu replied curtly. "yes, for both."

"damn, i'm going to hear so much from y/n about this..." he murmured worriedly.

mingyu smiled on the other end of the line. "good luck, you'll need it."

seungcheol hung up and sighed deeply, already anticipating the scolding he would get from you.

feeling the weight of guilt on his shoulders, your boyfriend rang your doorbell. you walked slowly with the help of the crutch and opened the door. you looked serious as you saw him, hoping for an explanation. seungcheol hurried before you could say anything.

"love, i'm so sorry, i swear. i really forgot, i know that's no excuse. and about my neighbor... i should have told you, i'm sorry." he looked like a puppy that was left behind.

you watched him, waiting for him to continue.

"i was distracted, but that doesn't justify what happened. you deserve my full attention, especially now. i promise it won't happen again."

you evaluated his words and finally sighed.

"seungcheol, i trust you, you know that. and i don't mind you giving rides to others. but it was hard seeing you with someone else and realizing you forgot about me."

he moved closer and took your hand. "i understand, love. it wasn't my intention to hurt you, i need you to know that. please, give me a chance to make up for my mistake."

you hesitated for a moment, but he was being sincere, genuinely remorseful, and you knew that well.

"you are very lucky that i love you, seungcheol."

he opened a relieved smile and hugged you, being careful with your casted leg.

"i promise i won't let you down again, my love," he said, with his face buried in your neck. "i love you so much."

you returned the hug. "i love you too, let's forget about this. but one thing i won't let you forget: you still owe me several rides."

he laughed and kissed your forehead. "absolutely. from now on, you have a dedicated driver twenty-four hours a day."

you pouted at him, looking at him with a playful expression. "oh, and tell your neighbor to find another personal driver."

seungcheol continued laughing and nodded. "will do. from now on, only you will have that privilege."

[moody-alcoholic]

Coffee

I've had this story saved for a while now trying to muster the confidence to post it today is the day! I'm finally jumping straight out of my comfort zone and into new territory wish me luck... Can you tell I'm bad a naming things, title coming soontm... when I think of one.

DISCLAMER: This is my first time writing a reader fic so please be gentle. It is also my first time writing a fic that is pretty much going to be centered around smut. I am also really bad at writing Soap's accent my dyslexic brain freaks out too much, I will strive to improve though XD

Summary: Ghoap x Reader, throuple. Slow burn (sorry but not sorry). 3.7k words. Reader is female (she/her), army nurse, non descript physical features, names used: Ashe. Am I doing this right?? CW: This chapter is SFW, but in future it will get spicy so for my own sanity +18 MDNI mentions of sex, descriptions of injuries.

Part 2 Masterlist

Phew, Enjoy <3

“Sergeant MacTavish?” You call into the hallway there are some soldiers waiting, you look up and down to see if anyone reacts to the name. 

“Sergeant John MacTavish?” You call again this time a little louder.

“Here lass!” A man calls hobbling down the hall towards you. Your breath catches in your throat, even being on a base surrounded by plenty of hunky men you had not seen anyone quite like him. His broad shoulders, thick arms and tanned skin. His fluffy mohawk, shining almost bronze in the florescent lights. To top it all off his cheeky grin is sending butterfly's racing in your stomach.

He’s being followed by what seems like an even bigger man trying to help him wobble his way down the hall, his sharp eyes focused on making sure his friend doesn’t topple over. The rest of his face is covered by a balaclava with a skull printed on it. It makes you shiver as they walked towards you. You move to the side of the door letting them in. John finds his way to a chair while the other man stands behind him. You close the door to the room going back over to the desk sitting down and opening his file on the computer. 

“Twisted your ankle during an exercise?” You look past the monitor at him. 

“Aye, I’m fine but LT here insisted I get it checked out.” He replies with a smile on his face thumbing behind at the man looming over him. Christ even his accent is sexy.

“And I’m staying to make sure you do get it checked out properly instead of flirting your way to a few paracetamol and a cold compress.” The man said, his voice was deep, commanding. You could feel heat rush to your cheeks at the mention of flirting, but you push the thought away trying to remain professional. 

“It is good to get it checked even if it is just a sprain.” You move your chair round so you’re sitting in front of him. 

“Do you mind if I take your boot off?”

“I got it lass,” he winked bending down to untie the laces, and pulled the boot off. You could tell by the scrunching of his face and the grunt he made that this was causing him pain. He put his foot back down on the floor his ankle did look swollen. 

“Have you tried ice or a cold compress?” You ask. 

“Aye,” he replies you hear the man behind him sigh.

“What he means by that is he tried for about 5 minutes before he was back on his feet again.” John huffed at being called out. 

“You’ll need to try for longer then that,” you say acknowledging the tall man behind John who now had his arms crossed. You pick the foot up watching John try to hide the pain, you only lift it up a little before decided it was going to need an x-ray. 

“I will book an x-ray for you in the mean time if you go into the ward they will give you an ice pack and a bed.” You explain moving your chair back to the desk so you could book the appointment. 

“Do you want any pain relief?” You ask. 

“Na, I can barely feel it.” He says a cheeky smile on his face. You nod typing the report and waiting for the paper to print out. 

“I can give you some crutches you really should keep your weight off it.” You stand up going to the printer.

“It’s okay love I’ve got my own crutch here.” He says hopping up on his foot and wrapping his arm round the other man. You smile handing the paper to him.

“Give this to the nurse on the ward.” You say rushing in front of them to open the door. 

“Thanks love,” he says beaming at you as he gets lead out by his friend who looks back at you and nods. You close the door to the room taking a breath out. What the hell was that? You find a smile forming on your lips as your heart flutters in your chest. 

————————

Two days later you find yourself as the night nurse. Not that you mind it’s normally the quieter part of the job and there is no one in the ward so you don’t even have to worry about trying to look busy. About an hour into your shift someone comes through the doors. You recognise him immediately as John, from a few days ago with the sprained ankle. He’s hobbling around on crutches now, his friend is not with him ether. 

“Hello sweetheart!” He says his voice full of energy, that ever present smile on his face. 

“Hey, John did you need something?” you ask coming round from behind the nurses station. 

“Yeah actually, I was told to come pick up something…” He trails off. “Now what was it?” 

“Painkillers?” You ask. 

“No it begin with a T I think.” He looks up to the corner of the room like he is trying to think hard about it.

“A tubigrip?” You ask.

“That’s the one lass!” He says snapping his fingers, you can’t help but laugh at his enthusiasm. 

“Sit up on the bed I’ll get you one.” You say turning to the cupboard of supplies. You pick out two sizes then walk back over to John already leaning down to untie his boots. 

“I can do that.” You insist waving his hands away, he sighs but gives in leaning back on the bed. You carefully remove the boot looking back and checking to see how he reacts. He’s ether getting better at hiding it or painkillers have helped. He only winces when you have to pull the boot over his heel.

“What did the doctor say?” You ask. 

“Sprained, I’ve been stuck behind a desk for the last two days.” He makes a pouting face as you pull his sock off. 

“You should sleep with it elevated that will help with the swelling.” You say pulling his trouser leg up. The swelling has definitely improved since you saw it last. 

“I bet with a few more days of rest you’ll be back on your feet like nothing happened.” You smile at him.

“I hope so lass, my unit’s being shipped out at the end of the week.” He says as you pull the tubigrip over his foot and ankle.

“Oh yeah anywhere fun?” You ask. 

“Ah ‘fraid I can’t tell you that love.” He winks, you can't tell if he’s joking or not but you pull his trouser leg back down.

“You can keep your boot on but not too tight, and keep it elevated.” You explain putting his boot back on and loosely tying the laces. 

“What painkillers are you taking?” You ask as he swivels his body round so his feet are hanging off the bed. 

“Paracetamol, oh and the doc said I could take ibuprofen too, but I don’t need it I can barely feel a thing.” You look back at him chuckling, his arms flex as he pushes himself up with the crutches. You feel your cheeks heat up again.

“You should take the ibuprofen at least it will also help with the swelling.” You force out, leaning over him to pick up his sock from the bed. He smells good, must be his aftershave. You hold the sock out for him and he sheepishly takes it out your hand shoving it in his pocket. You move back so he can hop out the ward back to the nurses station. 

“Well it was nice seeing you again…” He trails off like he’s trying to remember your name his eyes squinting. You cover your badge teasing him. He chuckles. 

“LT is the one with the better memory.” He says turning his body to the doors. 

“Ashe.” You reply uncovering your badge.

“Well then Ashe it was nice to see you again.” His smile is infectious and you could have sworn he winked at you. 

“Good luck on your deployment,” You call back as he pushes his way through the doors. 

“I don’t need luck.” He winks at you. Okay that time it was definitely a wink and it made the butterflies come back to your belly. You sit down at the nurses station with a smile on your face and heat in your cheeks.

————————

One week later you get a text out of the blue.

Hey, this Ashe? 

It’s an unknown number you’re tempted to ignore it, but something inside you forces you to answer it. 

Yeah, who’s this?

It’s only seconds later a response comes.

It’s Johnny, with the fucked up ankle. 

Holy shit, you choke on your drink, coughing as the liquid has now gone in your windpipe. You take a few more sips trying to sooth it. How the hell did he get my number? 

How did you get my number?

From a friend of a friend..

You can’t help but chuckle, is this real? Did he make his deployment? You realise you haven’t seen him round the base in a few days, and you would know you’ve been looking. Sometimes without even realising it any time you see a broad tanned soldier hairs stand up on the back of your neck and you crane to look only to be disappointed. His friend with the skull mask, you found out his name was lieutenant Riley. You know you definitely hadn’t seen him. 

Anyway…Want to get coffee? 

Such a simple request has your heart thumping in your chest. 

When? 

You reply without thinking, your leg starts to jump under the table nervousness washing over you. Coffee? With me? Why?

How about that coffee place just outside the base, tomorrow 1300?

Your heart is pounding now your throat dry. Is this a date? 

Sure :)

Was the smiley too much, you put your phone down embarrassed. You hear it buzz picking up the courage to look 

See ya there :)

You let out a breath your leg stops jumping. Coffee with Johnny, surely it’s just a friendly thing to say thank you for helping with his ankle. It doesn't matter if it is or not but he’s on your mind for the rest of the day until you go to bed. 

————————

You show up early, the butterfly's have not left your stomach since the moment you woke up. You managed to switch your shift with another nurse so you could be here instead. Coffee sounded like too much especially with your nerves you opted for a tea. You find yourself checking your watch almost every second, your back is to the door each time it opens your heart stops and you turn to look. Jesus calm down woman, it’s just coffee. You try to tell yourself. A few minutes later and a few sips of hot tea, you start to calm. 

“Hey there lass.” You hear the familiar Scottish accent behind you. You turn in your chair to see him. He’s smiling of course he is he sits down in the chair opposite you. His skin looks darker or maybe it’s just the light in the room, his hair looks like it’s been freshly groomed. You get a proper look at his eyes, a beautiful deep blue. You can’t help finding yourself smiling.

“Hey,” You reply. He chuckles almost like he can feel the nervousness radiating off you. 

“What’s your poison?” He asks pointing at your cup. 

“Eh tea.” You reply realising you’ve almost finished it. 

“Typical brits,” he sighs playfully as he gets up. 

“Let me get it, you should rest your ankle.” You say quickly stopping him in his tracks. 

“Don’t worry love it’s been solid for a few days now.” You sigh that’s good at least. He gets up walking over to the counter. You take out a deep breath, your head following him as he orders beaming at the staff his accent cutting through the mumbling of the other patrons. You look back at your tea finishing it off as Johnny comes back with the drinks. He smiles as he sits down putting the tea in front of you. 

“Thank you,” You say warming your hands on the new mug. 

“Ne problem don’t you worry about it, I’m supposed to be treating you,” You feel yourself blushing again as that cheeky look comes back on his face.  

“Why?” You blurt out before you can stop yourself. He chuckles.

“You helped me with my ankle, I wanted to say thank you.” He says as a matter of fact. 

“It’s my job,” you reply shrugging, feeling a rush of embarrassment washing over you. “You could have just caught me on the base.”

“Yeah,” Now his cheeks looked like they were changing to a gorgeous shade of pink. 

“Did you manage to get deployed?” You ask trying to move the subject on. He smiles leaning back in his chair.

“Na, whole thing got cancelled, I spent a few days in London.” He says smiling.

“Was Riley-I mean-lieutenant Riley was he with you?” You blurt out sipping your tea so the word vomit would stop. 

“Simon?” Johnny asked his smile getting bigger. “Oh yeah we spend a lot of time together.”

“Huh, that’s nice you must be a tight unit.” You say calming yourself. So his name was Simon, Simon Riley.

“What about you what have you been up to?” He leans forward sipping his coffee.

“Work, nothing really.” You smile.

“When’s your next leave?” He asks. 

“Two weeks.” He nods like he's thinking about something his lips pressed together. He leans forward on the table more.

“There was another reason I wanted to see you.” He says, his smile disappearing. You hold your breath in anticipation of what he’s going to say next. He takes a breath in for a second looking you in the eyes.

“I really wanted to see you again.” He said, okay that’s not bad. You almost want to laugh at how worked up you got yourself. He just wants to say thank you, he’s buying you coffee because he want’s to be nice. You helped him with his ankle. Now he’s asking if you’re single.

Wait what?    

“Single?” You ask, your brain trying to comprehend what you missed. He nods his smile coming back, at least that puts you at ease. 

“Yeah, I’m single. Are you single?” It seems like the appropriate time to ask him too. His lips are pressed together again like he’s trying to formulate a sentence in his head. 

“It’s complicated,” A cheeky smile forms on his lips as he sips his coffee. 

“What do you mean it’s complicated? Do you have a girlfriend?” You ask frowning at him.

“No.” He replies flatly.

“A boyfriend?” He puts his coffee down. 

“I wanted to see you cos I’ve spent the last week tryin’ te get ya out my head and it’s impossible.” He said leaning forward. You blush at his words. 

“What do you mean it’s complicated though?” Your heart beating faster in your chest you can’t tell if it’s the caffeine from the tea or the words from Johnny’s mouth but it was getting harder to concentrate. 

“I’m married to my work.” He says leaning back. You sigh, this has happened before. ‘I can’t be with you the job is too important’ It’s all too familiar, finding love when every one around you is throwing their lives on the front line is near impossible. 

“I get it,” You say trying not to hide your disappointment. 

“C’mon lass it don’t mean we can’t still be mates.” He says it sounds almost like a plea. You feel sad and drained, you didn’t know what to expect from the meeting but you weren't expecting to feel like you just got dumped by someone you didn’t even date. You look at Johnny his blue eyes look sad, he grips the handle of his coffee mug. 

“It’s okay, you seem like a nice guy but I know how this goes. We’ll talk maybe have sex a few times but sooner or later you’ll move on, or be deployed or I’ll move on or be stationed somewhere else…” You look at Johnny finishing the rest of your tea. And moving to stand up. He reaches out to you trying to get you to stay. 

“C’mon let me at least walk you back to the base.” You can’t help but see the pleading in his eyes his usual smile warms your heart. You go up and place a kiss on his cheek. 

“It’s okay Johnny, I need to go into town anyway.” You smile your hand patting his chest, you can feel the tight muscles under your hand only making it harder to turn away. But you pull your hand off his chest and head for the door.

————————

You make it two weeks having to almost actively avoid Johnny. Since whatever mission he was supposed to be on was cancelled he’d been helping round the base with all kinds of different things. You would bump in to him all the time, your eyes always betraying you and wandering to him whenever he was in your view. He spent a lot of time with Simon, the ‘big scary skull guy’ some of the other nurses would call him. 

“I heard his face was burnt off in a horrible accident.” One of them said one day as we were eating lunch in the mess. Your eyes had barely left Johnny’s face he was sat a few tables ahead of you. He seemed to like the fact you were always watching him. His eyes meeting yours and smiling. Sometimes you would look up and it would Simon's eyes staring you down. His gaze would always send shivers up your spine, the hairs on the back of your neck would stand up. The nurses giggling as they spread rumours about him. It was enough to piss you off, making you snap at them about spreading rumours like that.

“We’re not in secondary school anymore! Show some respect.” You snapped leaving the table. You knew you could feel Johnny’s eyes digging into you. 

When you made it home you welcomed the rest. Your small London apartment had been rented out for the few months you had been away, the place was going to need a good clean tomorrow. The thought of sleeping in a bed that had been home to a stranger for 5 months felt icky so you ended up curling up on the sofa turning the TV on for background noise. Your mind turning to Johnny. Wonder what he’s doing? Think he’s still at the base?

Your mind somehow turned to Simon too, thinking back to all the rumours you’d heard. None of them even remotely sounding plausible. Who cares, he has his reasons for the mask, it’s none of my business. Your phone buzzed and you reached over to pick it up. 

Make it home safe? 

It was Johnny, he hadn’t texted you since the coffee date. Well date was the wrong word. 

Yeah.

You hover over the send button wondering if this was a good idea or not. You take a deep breath in and hit send throwing the phone to the other side of the couch going back to watch whatever distraction was on the TV. You don’t even remember falling asleep.

You’re woken by a knock at the door, you look out the window the sun is peaking through the clouds, you check your watch its 10am. There is another knock. You pull yourself off the couch stiff from sleeping in such an awkward position.

“I’m coming.” You call yawning, looking through the peep hole. 

What the fuck? 

You open the door. 

“Johnny?” You ask shocked.

“Hey,” He says, his smile radiating off his face, his hair is a mess he looks like he’s barely slept. You look at him in stunned silence shaking your head. 

“I wasn’t completely honest with you.” He says. “Can I come in? I’ll be quick I promise.” 

“Not really the best opening line if you want to get into someone's flat.” You say.

“Scouts honour.” He says holding up 3 fingers. You roll your eyes and step aside so he can come in. 

“When I said it was complicated, it’s not cos I’m married to the job…” He trails off standing in your kitchen so there is at least a foot distance between you two. 

“I am married, to Simon.” Your mouth falls open at the revelation.

“Simon Riley?” you ask, almost shaking your head in disbelief.

“Yeah,” He shrugs.

“So you’re gay?” You say, but it feels like a question. 

“Yeah, well Bi, both of us. That’s why it’s complicated.” You shake your head not quite understanding. He seemed nervous all of a sudden.

“Well, we both still like women, and, you know-or I guess you don’t know-we experimented threesomes and what not.” He ran his hand through his hair. “There is something different about you, we’ve both been obsessed with you, can’t get you out our heads.” 

“Both?” You ask, your mouth still hanging open. 

“Aye, Simon’s not good with words though, or at least not till he gets to know ya.” He chuckles running his hand through his hair again. You take a deep breath out.  

“What do you want Johnny?” You ask. Is he asking me for sex? A threesome? 

“Have coffee with me and Simon.” He says.

“That’s it coffee?” You ask. 

“Yeah.” He says nodding. 

“You came all the way to my flat to ask me to have coffee with you and Simon?” You fold your arms, you can’t tell if you feel disappointed it’s not sex or annoyed that he’s basically invaded your privacy for something so trivial. He shrugs. You close your eyes for a second thinking about it. You sigh, it’s not like you have anything better to do while you’re on leave, and it is only coffee. You take a big breath in opening your eyes. Johnny’s smiling again, the smile that makes your heart skip a beat and the butterfly's wake up. 

“Okay.” You nod, You don’t get chance to finish your thought cos he’s thrown his arms round you squeezing you. 

“Thank you, thank you.” He says breaking from the hug. Your cheeks are definitely red now after feeling his body pressed against yours. You can’t help smiling. He reaches over for the door handle.

“I’ll text you a time and a place,” you nod as he goes out the door.

“Hey Johnny how did you find my address?” 

“A friend of a friend,” he smiles up at you from the stairs. You shake your head in disbelief. What the hell just happened?   

Next part AO3 link soontm

[wordsarelife]

—superman

pairing: theo nott x fem!reader

summary: theo won’t leave you alone after you broke your leg, you’re not sure you appreciate it that much

warnings: leg injury, but nothing else i think

students were jumping to the side as pansy parkinson was rushing through the halls of hogwarts, eager to spot the dark-haired boy she had been looking for for the past ten minutes.

“theo!” pansy called when she spotted him in the library, chatting away with the rest of their friends.

“hey, pansy” theo greeted but he furrowed his eyebrows when he noticed her expression. “are you alright?”

“it’s not me” pansy shook her head “it’s y/n”

the chair made a loud sound as it was pushed over the floor as theo stood up abruptly “is she alright?”

“she’s in the infirmary” pansy turned around and theo was close behind her, following her back out of the library and down the hall.

“what happened?” theo asked as pansy started moving even faster. “pansy”

“i think it’s something serious” pansy answered “she send me a patronus to get you and meet her there”

“shit” theo was brushing a hand through his hair, his face having lost all its color. they were rushing through the hallway and theo was trying his best to not fall into a sprint, fearing that pansy would not be able to keep up.

finally, the door to the infirmary flew open and theo and pansy walked into the room. a few curtains had been drawn close and madam pomfrey looked up at the sudden commotion.

“mister nott, miss parkinson” she greeted friendly and like she had suspected them both to arrive here soon

“where is y/n?” pansy asked out of breath

madam pomfrey smiled and pointed to the bed a few ones down. the curtain was closed and theo, closely followed by pansy, rushed forward, pulling it to the side.

“hey guys” you were sitting in bed, eating some jell-o. the rest of your body was under the blanket and a bit of your foot, wrapped up in blue bandages, showed up at the end.

“are you alright?” theo asked confused

“oh yeah” you laughed, making a throwaway hand gesture “i’m perfectly fine. poppy has been keeping me company”

“poppy?” pansy repeated confused. her and theo exchanged a glance, while you were busy waving at madam pomfrey

“this jell-o is amazing!”

“thank you, dear” she smiled and theo watched you gulp another giant piece of bright green jell-o.

“do you guys want some?” you held the bowl in their direction but both of them shook their heads.

“what happened? why are you even here?” theo asked

“yeah” pansy added, crossing her arms “and why do you call madam pomfrey poppy?” she whispered

“well, i fell down my broom” you brushed the blanket to the side, exposing your bandaged foot “it’s broken and it hurt like hell to put back in place, but whatever” you shrugged, slurping the rest of your jell-o down

“what?” theo and pansy exclaimed at the same time.

“i’ve been here for some time” you nodded “so poppy and i became kinda friends i guess”

“so when exactly did you have that accident?” theo asked exasperated

“oh, like this morning?” you wondered “right before classes began”

“it’s almost seven” pansy noted “that’s like ten hours ago, y/n”

“she’s right” theo nodded “you only thought about calling us now?”

“well you were in class and then i slept for a while, so yeah” you shrugged your shoulders, while your friends exchanged confused glances.

"so, y/n" madam pomfrey said when she came back to your bed "i'd say you're good to go. i got you a few more pain potions from professor snape that you can take whenever you feel like you need some, but apart from that you should be alright. we can remove the cast in two weeks, thanks to the quick healing potion i gave you"

"thank you, poppy"

the woman nodded, before she called for a house elf, who brought you crutches you could use during the time your leg needed to heal.

"you're free to take her back to the common room" madam pomfrey instructed pansy and theo. "she needs a bit of rest, but she should be alright to go back to classes on monday"

"so soon?" theo's eyes widened and the protectiveness was evident in his voice.

"of course, mr nott" madam pomfrey laughed at the boys eagerness "we don't want her to miss too much, or grow bored in her dorm, but i'm sure that y/n will gracefully accept any assistance you're willing to provide"

she really shouldn't have said that last part, because theo eagerly nodded. at that moment you had thought that theo's help would be a blessing, but over the coming week you quickly learned how wrong your judgement had been.

he spend every minute close to you, and with that there was no exception. even when you went to the toilet, he was waiting in front of the door for you to return.

he carried your books to every class, even if you didn't share it and made sure to wait after it was over. he often even carried you around, claiming that it had to be far too straining for you to walk around on crutches the whole day.

you loved theo for all the care he was directing your way, but you were also getting tired of it.

it wasn't until thursday that you were able to escape his sight for the first time. and that was only thanks to pansy and mattheo, who had promised you to keep him occupied so you could slip away.

you arrived at the infirmary quicker than you had thought was possible due to your injury, but you were sure it was because of the fear that theo was already chasing you.

"y/n" madam pomfrey said surprised when she saw you standing in the door.

"poppy" you ecxlaimed relieved at the sight of the older woman. "you have to give me something that'll make my leg heal faster, please"

"i can't" madam pomfrey shook her head "the healing potion i gave you a few days ago is the quickest there is. it's only one more week, i'm sure you can wait that long"

"no" you shook your head "another week is way too long"

"i'm sorry, but you'll have to endure that" madam pomfrey excused "healing takes time, sweetheart, like everything else"

"okay, sure" you nodded "can you take me back then? it's probably not beneficial for me to walk around and possibly jeopardize the healing"

madam pomfrey laughed and you send her a sulky look, before she suddenly stopped.

"oh" she exclaimed surprised "you were serious"

"of course" you crossed your arms, which was kind of hard with the crutches still in hand "i wouldn't joke about such a thing, poppy"

"but why would you—"

"here you are" you turned around slowly, like voldemort himself was standing behind you. it wasn't voldemort, but you had to admit, that you would've preferred him.

"theo" you smiled through clenched teeth.

"i searched half the castle for your whereabouts" now that he mentioned it, he did sound out of breath. "walking through the whole castle must've been tiring for you, why didn't you ask me to come with you? i could've carried you if necessary"

you turned your head to look at madam pomfrey, who seemed to slowly understand your situation as she looked a bit disturbed about theo's monologue. you send her a look to the extent of: this is what i had to deal with all week, before you turned back to the boy behind you.

"it's alright, theo" you smiled "i'm fine, really"

"are you sure, love?" theo furrowed his brows "because we do have to walk all the way back and down to the dungeons. you know what? maybe it would be smarter for me to carry you" he was already bending down, a hand on the small of your back, while his other was reaching for your healthy leg.

your eyes widened at that and you jumped away, so his hand was grabbing the air. theo furrowed his brows, but did not say anything, as he walked a step closer and tried the same again, with you hopping away just before he could reach your leg with his hand once more.

"what are you doing?" theo muttered as he grew embarrassed of your little charade in front of madam pomfrey.

madam pomfrey was grinning at the ridiculous dance the two of you were acting out in front of her eyes. she almost felt sorry for theo as he helplessly tried to lift you off the ground, back bend and his body in an umcomfortable stretch.

"what are you—" he reached around you and you quickly slipped away, hiding behind madam pomfrey. "y/n" theo sighed, when he looked up.

"i can walk on my own" you said defensively, one crutch in your hand, the other laying on the ground beside theo.

"but it's easier if i just carry you" theo pleaded "come on, don't be difficult"

you perked your nose up, offended by his words.

theo sighed again. "sorry, that was stupid" he shrugged "can i now help you please?"

you sighed too, exchanging a look with madam pomfrey, who shrugged, before you nodded. you hopped back in theo's direction. collecting your other clutch from the ground before your raised both of them up, waiting for theo to lift you.

"see?" theo mumbled, when you both had said goodbye to madam pomfrey and were on your way back to the slytherin common room. "it's way easier this way"

"yeah, yeah" you nodded, still a bit offended about the way he held you for completely uncapable. you knew he meant good, but god you couldn't wait to get rid of this stupid cast.

he sat you down on the couch, your leg prepped up beside you on a pillow and enlightened the flame in the fireplace.

"thank you, theo" you said reluctantly. "i really do appreciate your help, even if i think you could tone it down a bit"

theo smiled. "it's just who i am, i feel like it's my obligation to help my friends if they're hurt"

"it isn't" you assured "but thank you"

you had laid back your head, lazily closing your eyes. theo was right, walking around all day was tiring for you.

"don't be a baby, draco" pansy's voice made both theo and you shriek up. you had fallen asleep, his head on top of yours.

"it hurts terribly" draco said defensively.

"i can't be that bad when she let you go back to the common room after two hours in the hospital wing" mattheo remarked.

pansy and mattheo had walked in first. behind them draco... on crutches!

"i don't even understand that! y/n was there for a whole day"

"well, y/n's not such a nuisance" pansy remarked, dashing out of the way, before draco could hit her with one of his crutches.

"what happened?" you asked and it was only then that the three of them noticed theo and you.

"i broke my leg" draco answered "it was a terrible accident, actually"

"was it?" mattheo had to hold back his laughter. "we were trying to finish our divination project, when draco said it was stupid, spilled his tea and promptly slipped on it"

"yeah, as i said, terrible accident"

"deserved accident" pansy corrected "i was not finished with that cup"

"whatever" draco threw himself down on the cushion beside you "the next two weeks are going to be torture.“

"don't worry" you smiled "i bet theo is burning to help you. are you gonna carry him around too, theo?" you asked, turning to your brunette friend and trying hard to stifle your laughter at the expression on his face.

"oh that would be pretty helpful" draco muttered, before theo had a chance to intervene.

"i don't think i—" theo tried explaining, but you interrupted him.

"it's just who i am, i feel like it's my obligation to help my friends if they're hurt" you quoted his own words back to him, voice a bit lower than usual "weren't that your words?"

"i can't carry draco around" theo protested again.

"why not?" mattheo smiled smugly, having witnessed all the times theo had insisted on carrying you. "you did carry y/n around a lot"

"that's different"

"how is that different?" pansy wondered. you could see that she was enjoying the way, theo was helplessly searching for a way out of this conversation. "y/n's leg is broken, so is draco's"

"you can't really expect me to do this, guys" theo laughed uncomfortably, his laughter quickly dying out at all your serious expressions.

"don't you love me, mate?" draco asked disappointed and clearly high on medicine.

theo's face turned a shade paler. "draco, it's not that i don't care—"

"come on, theo," draco pouted dramatically, "i'm your best mate. plus, it's your obligation to help friends who are hurt, remember?"

you almost had to giggle. draco was acting totally out of character, clearly being the cause of all the medication madam pomfrey had given him. you could remember how you had felt after..

pansy crossed her arms, thoroughly enjoying theo's discomfort. "you can't argue with that, theo."

theo sighed deeply, realizing there was no way out. "fine, but only if you promise to stop calling me out for being too helpful."

draco's eyes lit up. "deal! now, could you please carry me to my bed? i think the couch isn't comfortable enough for my poor leg."

suppressing a groan, theo bent down to lift draco. as he did, draco whispered, "be gentle, theo. i’m very fragile right now."

"more than usual?" you laughed and draco crossed his arms, offended at the joke.

mattheo, pansy and you struggled to contain your laughter as theo gingerly picked draco up, muttering under his breath about "suffering for friendship."

draco grinned as theo carried him out of the common room. pansy turned to you, shaking her head in mock disbelief. "honestly, this might be the best entertainment we've had in weeks."

"agreed," you laughed, watching the spectacle.

you all shared a good laugh, your worries about theo's overprotectiveness momentarily forgotten. when theo returned, looking thoroughly exhausted, you couldn't help but smirk.

"enjoy your workout, theo?" you teased.

theo shot you a tired but good-natured glare. "just remember, y/n, i'm doing this out of love."

pansy snorted. "and draco’s enjoying every minute of it out of sheer spite."

"i think he'll come back to his senses tomorrow" mattheo announced, before he, quickly followed by pansy, excused himself to bed.

"in all seriousness" theo said, turning to you after your friends had left "i did it out of love for you too"

you smiled at him, admittedly feeling a bit bad about the way you had treated him, even though he was just trying to help you. "i'm sorry" you excused "i shouldn't have been as dramatic as i was, you were trying to be nice and i ruined it"

"i wouldn't want to change a single thing about you, you know?" theo shrugged "i admire that you always handle things on your own, but it was really courageous and sweet of you to accept my help."

"thanks" you grinned "and just so you know, i did it out of love"

theo's smile widened, his gaze softening as he looked at you. there was a moment of silent understanding between the two of you, a mutual recognition of feelings that had been simmering beneath the surface. slowly, he leaned in closer, his hand gently reaching up to brush a strand of hair away from your face.

your heart skipped a beat as his warm breath tickled your skin. the air around you seemed to crackle with anticipation as he closed the gap between you. his lips met yours in a tender kiss, a gentle affirmation of the unspoken emotions that had brought you both here.

when you finally pulled back, both of you were smiling, your faces flushed with a mixture of excitement and contentment.

“i’m glad i finally did that” he admitted.

"me too," you replied, your voice barely more than a whisper, your fingers gently tracing the contours of his cheek. "but you could've kissed me without hurting your back all week"

"well, any reason to be close to you is a good one" he grinned sheepishly, before he kissed you again.

[rememberwren]

A Dichotomy of Thought || 6

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Further Parts

Johnny and Simon argue.

CW: mentions of dub con/non con; domestic abuse; ableist slurs

-

Just when you settle in at your job he starts showing up at the diner to terrorize you, like an illness you cannot shake or a cloud you cannot outrun. Maybe he knows that that’s where you’re hiding your phone.

Maybe he knows that you have almost two thousand dollars stashed in your locker in the break room.

Either way, there is no rhyme or reason to his visits. He sets a pattern (once a week) and then breaks it, coming two days in a row, and then doesn’t visit for a whole month, until you are constantly off balance, always dreading the sound of the bell over the door.

Today when he comes, he seats himself at the bar where you are required to talk to him. He watches you work, delighting in the way your hands shake while you pour his coffee. You’ve never met someone who feeds off of fear like this, who gorges themselves on your flinches and trembling.

You think about shattering the coffee pot and taking one of the shards to his throat. You long to slit open his bloated belly and steal back all the feeling he has stolen from you. But you are useless, neutered by the fear that still remains, the fear yet to be eaten. One day…

“This one’s new,” he says, nodding to the new girl: young, with hair in a glossy, gleaming braid over her shoulder.

You tell him her name. How long she’s been working there now. That she’s nice. He hums, filing all the knowledge away in his head and dubbing it all useless by remarking, “Pretty.”

Your hand clenches into a tight fist around the rag you are using to wash down the bar. You don’t know why that bothers you. He hasn’t called you pretty since the early days when he was still trying to win you out from under your family’s thumb—like you wouldn’t have gone anywhere with anyone to be free of them, at the time (You’d had no idea that there were worse creatures out there than the ones who raised you). Maybe there’s some sick part of you that still wants to be wanted by him, that still wants to be pretty.

“Where’s Jackie?” he asks. Then, just to make your head spin: “You’ve been texting her more lately.”

Your skin flushes hot and then cold. You want to ask how he knows that, how he knows at all about the contact in your phone you named JACKIE when you keep your phone in your storage locker at work at all times, charging it in the breakroom, never to bring it home.

You hadn’t been stupid enough to save Simon’s number under his own name. No, God might not have given you enough sense to fill a teacup, but He gave you enough to fill a thimble. You just had to hope that would be enough. You had to hope that you could pull Jackie aside the next time you were both working together and that she would be willing to cover for you, should your boyfriend ask her about your ‘texts’. You hated bringing anyone else into the network of your own lies, but wrote it off as a necessary pain.

“It’s her day off,” you tell him.

He hums, doubtful.

The bell over the door rings.

Johnny looks thin and tired, arm crutch in place as Simon holds the door open for him. He’s dressed for the warm weather in a t-shirt and shorts which show the surgical scars at his knee, vivid purple lines in the fluorescent lights of the diner.

Simon spots you first, and a peculiar look comes over his face, one that you hope your boyfriend doesn’t see because you would have no way to explain it. You wouldn’t call it fondness, but it’s one of recognition certainly, a deeper understanding than you can just pass off as having run into each other a few times in the building.

Johnny sees you next and his face brightens. The strangest thought comes to you: I have made a friend. Then his eyes naturally flicker to your boyfriend, and his entire demeanor transforms—into one of such strange, dark, poignant delight, as if he and your boyfriend are old pals who have run into each other after years apart.

It makes your stomach turn over, and you don’t know why.

You’ve been silent too long. Your boyfriend has noticed, his head turning to take in the new patrons. He asks, voice mild and amused: “You know them?”

“They’re our neighbors. 5C.”

He sits up straighter. “No shit? That’s the cripple you almost killed?”

“He’s not a cripple,” you mutter.

“Sure looks like one from here.” Your boyfriend gives a little salute in greeting.

Johnny makes a beeline for the bar, crutch thudding rhythmically against the tiled floor with every purposeful step. He sits in the seat beside your boyfriend, removing his arm crutch and shifting it to rest on his other side against the edge of the bar. Simon reaches out and adjusts it to keep it from sliding over.

Simon slips into the seat beside him, quiet and solemn, looking like a man braced for bad news.

“Hey there, neighbor. Sorry about all that mess in the parking lot the other day,” your boyfriend says. He jerks a thumb toward you. “She never should have been behind the wheel if we’re being honest.”

“Then why the hell was she?” Johnny wonders, accent thicker than usual, rough. His tone is mild, but the grin pinned on his face is like a wolf’s: hungry for blood. Dangerous. It is so at odds with his happy demeanor that it makes goosebumps rise on your arms. For the first time since you’ve met him, Johnny frightens you.

Your boyfriend is no idiot. He senses the thinly veiled malevolence beneath Johnny’s words but doesn’t understand it (and neither do you). Maybe Johnny really is still upset about almost getting squished like a bug beneath your car, but in that case, his anger at your boyfriend is misplaced. You turn away, grabbing two empty mugs, shoulders tensing. Waiting for all that anger to find somewhere to go.

Your boyfriend shifts on his seat, sighing through his nose a little. He doesn’t like to admit this. “I had some trouble a while back. Got my license revoked.”

Johnny coos, condescending and mean: “Bad luck.”

“Johnny,” Simon says, voice flat with a warning. You place the mugs down in front of him and Johnny, your hands shaking. Reaching for the coffee pot, you fill both their cups to the hallway mark, leaving room for sugar and cream. Some sloshes over the edge of Johnny’s cup.

“Stupid. Stupid,” you mutter, reaching for your rag to wipe it away. The three of them pay you no mind.

“We should have you over. I get a couple of close friends together on Saturdays and we play poker. You’re welcome to join us,” your boyfriend says, looking at you from the corner of his eye.

You blanch, rag dropping uselessly to the counter from your lax hand. The idea of Johnny and Simon being in your personal space, in the place where Bad Things Happen is a nightmare. Though you know they wouldn’t, (good people. They are good people), the thought of them taking place in Saturday poker rituals makes you feel sick. Fresh in your mind is your dream from the other night when you had ridden Simon until your boyfriend passed you on to someone new, and the thought of it becoming a reality is—it’s too much.

You leave your body.

“What do you think, baby?” he asks you, smiling. “Would you like to have them over? Would that be fun?”

“Yes,” your mouth answers numbly, because it has to.

“Then it’s settled. First deal is at noon and we play through the evening.”

“We’ll fucking be there,” Johnny says, words sounding adjacent to a threat.

Your boyfriend doesn’t stay long after that. Perhaps a part of him feels threatened by the presence of Simon, or perhaps he’s grown bored with tormenting you, but eventually he places money (your money. It’s your money. It’s your fucking money—) on the bar top and leaves, the bell ringing at his exit.

Johnny turns his blue eyes onto you. The wolf-like quality that had frightened you so much has fled, receded back into the man, no longer needed. But you know it is there. It’s in every man.

His voice is remarkably gentle when he asks you: “Lass, are you alright?”

“Yes,” your mouth says.

“You’re crying,” says Simon simply, reaching for a napkin to hand you. Your hand reaches for it numbly and uses it to pat at your face.

“It’s just something in my eye.” Your hands stuff the napkin in your apron and pull out your pad and pen, hand poised to write, eyes empty and unseeing. “What can I get for you?”

-

“He’s beatin’ her,'' Johnny says mildly. He waits until they are inside Simon’s car, stuck in traffic on the way back to the apartment. The heat is stifling, the AC not yet working after the time the car spent baking in the sunlight of the diner’s parking lot.

Simon reaches out and adjusts the knobs, turning them more toward himself. Johnny doesn’t like the cold much anymore, making Simon dread the thought of winter coming to the city, of snow. He can’t imagine what it will be like to be Johnny then, surrounded by ice all over again. Clearing his throat, he says: “I know.”

Johnny’s head snaps over to look at Simon, and the expression on his face is one akin to absolute betrayal. It’s the deepest of hurts, like Simon has reached out across the center console and slapped him. Johnny’s never given him that look in his entire life, and Simon could have gone the rest of his life without seeing it.

“You know. You know. And just what have you done to help her?”

“Help her?” Simon asks, bracing one elbow against the driver’s side door and massaging at his temples where a headache has been growing for the last two days. “How the hell do you want me to do that?”

“I can think of a few ways,” Johnny says darkly. “A few accidents that could happen to that cunt next door—”

“No,” Simon snaps. “Don’t even think about it, Johnny. Not only are you in no condition, but it’s fucking illegal.”

“So was half the shite we did in the name of Queen and Country,” Johnny hisses.

“We were following orders,” Simon says, hackles rising. “There’s a difference.”

“The difference is that now you’d have to use your own mind instead of letting someone else do the thinking fer you,” Johnny says, anger making him cruel.

Simon grits his teeth together. The car inches forward in traffic, and it takes all of his self control not to slam on the gas and rear end the car in front of him just to end this fucking conversation with Johnny.

He takes a deep breath through his nose, aiming for calm. He tries more sense, even if it feels like pushing a boulder uphill: “We have no resources to help her, and no idea that she even wants help.”

“Of course she wants help!” Johnny cries. “Why the fuck wouldn’t she?”

“Lots of reasons,” Simon says, thinking of his mother. What had been her reason for staying with his father for so long, for always being willing to open the door to him when he came knocking? Children. Money. Her religion. “You’re thinking of it in black and white but it isn’t. Nothing is.”

“Some things are. Some things are just wrong.” And then, voice laden with disappointment: “Yer a coward, Simon Riley.”

Simon feels these words in his chest, like Johnny has shaped them into a knife and jammed them between his ribs. Simon stares at the license plate in front of them until the numbers and letters blur together, until his eyes burn. His jaw aches from biting back so many hurtful things that he knows he could say, that he wants to say, just to hurt Johnny the way Johnny has hurt him.

But that’s just the imprint of his father on him, like a smudged thumbprint on the glass of his DNA. He’s a better man than that.

He knows it, even if Johnny doesn’t anymore.

[mj-iza-writer]

"Whumpee can I see your teddy", Caretaker reached out for it, "it needs to be cleaned, I'll give it right back when it's done."

"No, no please", Whumpee squeezed it tighter, and shook their head.

"I'm sorry Whumpee, but you were very sick last week. I'm pretty sure you have puked on it", Caretaker knelt down beside Whumpee, "I know it's your comfort item, but how about we find something else for a few hours while I take care of Teddy."

"Nuh-uh", Whumpee squirmed away.

"Whumpee, do you want to help me clean it, or we could make cookies while Teddy gets washed", Caretaker rubbed Whumpee's back comfortingly, "I promise Teddy will come right back to you."

A friend of Caretaker's was listening in.

"If I were you I'd take it from them, they're to old to be acting like that. Honestly to old to have a stuffed toy", the friend frowned.

Caretaker watched Whumpee's eyes squeeze shut as tears streamed down their face.

"I think you need to stop freaken talking", Caretaker growled at their friend, "you have no idea what is going on here. Just mind your business, and let me do my job."

Finally, after a few more tears and bartering Caretaker was given Teddy.

Caretaker had promised to make Teddy smell really good, and Whumpee now walked around the house wrapped in giant soft blanket.

Lastly, Caretaker handed Whumpee a bowl of ice cream.

"I still think it would have been easier to take it away, and let them get over it", the friend frowned as Whumpee walked past with the ice cream.

Whumpee stopped and looked at Caretaker.

"Don't worry about them, go eat your ice cream. I started a movie for you", Caretaker slapped their friend in the back of the head.

"Oww", the friend complained.

"Are you dumb?", Caretaker gritted their teeth.

"No, I just...", the friend started.

"Whumpee came here with that toy. The person who hurt them gave it to them to signify that they were done hurting Whumpee", Caretaker sighed, "if they had the teddy bear, they wouldn't be hurt. They were safe. If it was pulled out of their hands, torture was starting. It wouldn't end until the toy was given back to them."

"Do you see what kind of issues could have happened if I just pulled that away from them. What kind of trauma response I would have to deal with for the next several hours", Caretaker looked at the friend, "it does take more time, I'm aware of that. I had to have some losses to get the win of getting that from them."

"You told them it needed to be cleaned and it had puke on it", the friend pointed out, "you knew what was best, and they didn't listen to you."

"You should have seen how bad it was when it first came here", Caretaker sighed, "covered in blood, and probably several other body fluids. It was dirty and absolutely disgusting. They still clung to it. To them, it means safety. It's familiar to them."

The friend still frowned.

"You smoke right? Do you have your box and lighter?", Caretaker stood.

"Feeling like a smoke Caretaker?", the friend chuckled as they pulled out the box and lighter.

Caretaker quickly grabbed the box and lighter and walked away.

The friend followed, "where are you going? You don't smoke."

"I know, just proving a point", Caretaker went into his office and closed the door behind him.

The door was locked before the friend could grab the door knob.

The friend gulped when he heard the heavy safe door slam shut. Caretaker came out soon after.

"Where's my smokes", the friend went into the office and pulled on the safe door, "Caretaker?"

"I figured I knew what was best, so I took them away. You won't like it for a little while, but I'm sure you'll get over it", Caretaker grinned as their friend tried to guess the combination, "you're acting like a child you know, aren't you to old to have a crutch like cigarettes."

"Okay, okay, you've made your point. I'm sorry", the friend frowned, "can I have my smokes back now?"

Caretaker grinned as he pulled the cigarettes and lighter from his back pocket.

"That's cold", the friend frowned as they grabbed their things back."

"What's cold is telling a trauma survivor, one who has been through so much more than what we will ever know about, that they need to grow up", Caretaker frowned, "have some sympathy."

Caretaker heard the timer for the teddy's wash go off.

"You could have easily went out and bought another pack and lighter. You would have soon forgotten I had those", Caretaker sighed, "Whumpee doesn't get that luxury."

Whumpee rounded the corner, "is Teddy done?"

"Not quite Whumpee, I just need to dry him", Caretaker held up a few scent capsules, "which smell do you like?"

Whumpee smelt every capsule twice until they picked one.

"Good choice Whumpee", Caretaker smiled, "I promise thirty minutes you will have Teddy back."

Whumpee nodded and sat beside the dryer.

"Can I wait here?", Whumpee's lip quivered.

"Yes, you can. I'll be in the kitchen if you need me", the friend followed Caretaker.

"So what did we learn here?", Caretaker looked at his friend.

"That I shouldn't judge. And, that you have a harder job than what I realized", the friend sighed.

"I think you owe Whumpee am apology", Caretaker frowned, "that was quite mean of you to act like that when you didn't know the whole story."

"Caretaker?", the friend frowned.

"No, no", Caretaker waved in disgust, "you know I am protective of my patients that stay with me, if you can not make yourself safe to be around, you will not be welcomed in my house when I have patients here."

"Okay, okay", the friend sighed, then turned to walk back to Whumpee.

They rounded the corner in time to see Whumpee wiping away a tear.

Whumpee looked at them nervously.

"I'm sorry for being mean earlier, Caretaker explained the importance of that bear. I'm sorry if I caused you any flashbacks", the friend tried to make a comforting smile.

Whumpee nodded, "thankyou", they whispered.

The dryer dinged, causing Caretaker to quickly walk in.

"Alright let's see", Caretaker opened the dryer.

They carefully pulled Teddy out and handed it to Whumpee, "I made sure to use the gentlest wash and dry cycles."

"Careful Whumpee, we have another hole to patch", Caretaker frowned as they looked into the dryer to see clumps of cotton.

"Another hole?", Caretaker's friend eyed Whumpee.

"Yes Teddy is well loved, they need some patching every once in a while", Caretaker sighed, "Whumpee do you want to fix it now or later."

Whumpee gently cuddled their face into the toy, they took in the warmth and scent.

Whumpee's body shook, "what if... what if there is a time Teddy can't be fixed? What do I do then?"

"We will have to figure something else out then", Caretaker frowned, "I'll try my best to make sure that doesn't happen. Here come help me, you can hold Teddy's hand while I sew."

The next day Caretaker's friend called.

"Hey I have an idea, do you think Whumpee could go to the mall", the friend asked.

"They can, though they are having a hard day, so they will need their wheelchair", Caretaker smiled, "what are you thinking?"

"It's a surprise, can you meet me their with Whumpee", the friend asked.

"Yeah, I can do that. Whumpee probably wouldn't mind getting out, they've been distraught because of Teddy", Caretaker stood, "see you soon."

Caretaker pushed Whumpee through the mall until they found their friend.

"Hey Whumpee", the friend knelt down to eye level with Whumpee and smiled, "Caretaker", they then looked up.

"Hello", Whumpee whispered.

"Whumpee is being extra brave right now. They decided to let Teddy stay at home to rest", Caretaker gently rubbed Whumpee's shoulder.

"That is very brave.... I know that now", the friend smiled and patted Whumpee's leg.

"So we are both curious. What brings us to the mall?", Caretaker smiled.

"I had this thought last night while I was looking at online pictures of my niece and nephew celebrating their birthdays", the friend stood.

"There is a store here where you pick a stuffed toy and they stuff it for you", the friend smiled, "I was hoping you would allow me to buy one for you. You could pick whatever you like. There are even some cute outfits to dress the stuffie in."

"But what about Teddy?", Whumpee whispered.

"This will not replace Teddy at all, but maybe give them a little break", the friend smiled, "you're also trauma bonded to Teddy, maybe you are holding onto a lot of bad memories. Maybe a new stuffie will help you move forward in your healing, and you can make new memories."

"B-but Teddy deserves to heal with me also. They went through everything I went through, then helped me", Whumpee let out a small sob, "I don't want Teddy to be forgotten."

"We will never forget Teddy" Caretaker quickly came around, "I promise Teddy will never be forgotten. Can you take a deep breath for me."

Whumpee nodded and took a shaky breath.

"How about this", Caretaker smiled, "we can set up a place for Teddy. A place of honor. Teddy will be able to watch over you, and you will be able to get them at all times."

"We can even pick out a stuffie for Teddy to cuddle, and they can start healing as well", the friend smiled.

Whumpee thought for a second before nodding, "I-I think Teddy might like that."

"Yeah?", the friend smiled.

Whumpee nodded with a weak smile.

The friend looked up at Caretaker and smiled.

Caretaker smiled back and nodded, "you might have it in you to be a caregiver yourself."

"I don't know about that", the friend started to wall and Caretaker followed pushing the wheelchair with Whumpee, "I don't think I would be able to do what you do. I'm sorry I just now figured that out."

"That's alright", Caretaker winked.

Whumpee shook as they walked toward the different stuffie options the store had.

Caretaker helped hold them up as they looked.

"You said they were having a hard day today... I didn't realize", their friend followed with the wheelchair.

"Yes, Whumpee has good days when they can get around just fine. Days like today, their body just doesn't have enough strength", Caretaker continued supporting Whumpee, "their captors did a lot of bad things to them. Their body had to hold up to a lot of abuse, and it's broken."

Caretaker watched Whumpee, "are you doing alright? Do you want to sit down?"

"I-I think I should", Whumpee wobbled forward, but Caretaker held them up.

"Do you see any you like?", the friend held the chair still while Whumpee sat down.

Whumpee nodded, "uhm, I keep looking at that tan bear. It kind of looks like Teddy."

"It does?" the friend went back to look. They thought about the old bear.

"Well I guess what Teddy used to look like", Whumpee was pushed closer.

"This one?", the friend held it up.

"Yes, but are you sure about this?", Whumpee whispered, "you don't have to."

"No, I would absolutely love to get this for you", the friend smiled as they handed the bear to Whumpee, "I was very mean to you yesterday, and I feel bad that Teddy is falling apart on you. Are you sure this is the one you like though?"

Whumpee looked it over, then nodded, "yes... please."

Whumpee helped push the peddle to stuff the bear, and followed the instructions on the heart.

"Give it a big squeeze to see if you like it", Caretaker smiled.

Whumpee squeezed it tightly.

"How does it feel?", the friend watched.

They both watched as Whumpee began to cry.

"Good", Whumpee whispered, "really good, thankyou so much."

Whumpee didn't pick out any clothes until the friend pulled down a shirt that said °Emotional Support Bear°

Whumpee giggled lightly and then nodded.

Caretaker had just covered Whumpee with a blanket when they heard their phone vibrate.

"How are they doing?", their friend had texted, "did the bear work out?"

Caretaker grinned as they sat down across from Whumpee.

They looked up and watched Whumpee's chest rise and fall. They were deep asleep now. The new bear cuddled tightly in their arms.

They snapped a picture and sent it to their friend.

"I can't tell how much this meant to them", Caretaker wiped a tear away from their eye, "you helped them take a big step forward in their recovery. As their caregiver and your friend, thankyou so much for helping heal them."

"You're welcome, I'm glad I was able to do that for them and for you", the friend replied, "have a good night."

"You too", Caretaker stood and retrieved Teddy.

"Alright my dear friend", Caretaker gently carried Teddy to a shelf Whumpee had agreed on.

This shelf overlooked Whumpee's bed, and they would have easy access if they ever needed extra comfort from Teddy.

Caretaker sat Teddy in a weaved basket chair. They rested Teddy's head on a pillow. Lastly, they pulled out the stuffed toy Whumpee had picked for Teddy, and cuddled the arms around the toy.

"Rest well Teddy, you did a good job protecting them. It's my turn now", Caretaker poked the bears faded nose, "I promise they will heal."

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all.

@villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived @sacredwrath @porschethemermaid @monarchthefirst

@generic-whumperz @bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13 @notpeppermint @cyborg0109

@idontreallyexistyet @painfulplots @whumpbump @everythingsscary @skittles-the-whumpee

@expressionless-fr @theforeverdyingperson @legendarydelusiongoatee @candleshopmenace @whumpanthems

@lavndvrr @ivymyers @starfields08000 @a-living-canvas @lumpofsand

@watermeezer @indigoviolet311 @whumpy-mountains @3-2-whump @risk606

@electrons2006 @paperprinxe @whumprince @kaz-of-crows

[princessbrunette]

lamb!reader is rather restless.

“oh he just — that jj boy is such a character. his teasing is incessant, he picks on me constantly and he’s just so crass!” you dramatically pace around the elegantly decorated living room of your home, stomping your white mary janes across the rug.

your mother — carla limbrey sits in her chair, her crutch propped by her side as she stares exhausted into space, listening to your tireless rambles.

“so why do you spend your time with him then? why do you spend time with any of them?” she croaks slowly, clearly too tired for this conversation to begin with — her mind on more important matters.

“its just until i find my footing around the outerbanks and i can find some other friends. this jj boy is clouding my thoughts and even my prayers.”

your mother clears her throat, grabbing her crutch decidedly to leave the room to head to her office. by habit, you run to her side, helping her out of the chair as she finds her balance. before she goes to hobble away, the spindly woman turns to you, looking down at you from her stance.

“well then to me that sounds like you have a crush on him. open your eyes.” her voice carries that know-it-all quality that only mothers who know their children can possess and your face falls, a pout forming on your face as you watch her slowly but surely leave you with your own thoughts.

he bounces into the seat beside you the next day. sitting too close, arm wound around you too comfortably, smelling too much like the fresh open water he’d recently dived into headfirst. you squint, because he’d knocked you out of your thoughts and your fingers come up by habit to fiddle with your cross necklace.

“y’quiet today, little lamb. whassup?” he tilts his head and you huff.

“nothing, and you’re wet.” you shrug him off, feeling his warm damp skin leave its remanence on the back of your white dress.

“such a grump. y’know i thought you catholics were meant to be nice to everyone n’stuff. love thy neighbour…” the blonde wiggles his fingers beneath your chin and for some unknown reason you nearly let yourself smile. embarrassingly enough, jj notices this and grins himself. “t’aw, that tickle?”

“so inappropriate.” you let the smile pass through only slightly, too tired from running around with the pogues to fight it.

“yeah, you like it.” he teases, and your uppity glare returns.

“no. i don’t.” you argue, which only makes the boy laugh as you’re just too easy to wind up.

“then why’d you come here, huh? if you hate us sooo much, why are you standin’ there at the dock every day waiting for john b to roll up on his boat?” he smirks, leaning back victoriously. your mind shoots back to your mothers voice, telling you that it was likely you had a thing for jj and you audibly shake the thought off, squeezing your eyes shut for a moment. when you open them once more, you’ve composed yourself.

“you’re my friends. i just wish you’d stop teasing me. i am still adjusting to the way things are around here.” you speak honestly, and jj’s icy cold heart thaws ever so slightly. maybe he was being a little difficult. for the rest of the day, he eases up — and it doesn’t go unnoticed.

it’s that same night you’re back home, stirring a tea in the kitchen when your mother hobbles in on her crutch looking tired and haggard as usual.

“its late, you should be resting.” your forehead creases as your brows furrow, glancing up from the circular motion your spoon was making.

“i was having a conversation with a historian on the porch.” she sighs as she passes through. “i believe there is something out there waiting for you to collect.” she nods before disappearing to go to her bedroom. frowning, you take your steaming tea and pad out the front door in your little night gown, hoping no one was around to see you dressed indecently. at first you see nothing, but soon your eyes focus in on something sat on the first step up to your grand wooden porch. following the item, you sit on the step — placing your tea beside you and picking up the mystery item.

in your hand sits a small fluffy lamb, a stuffed animal. she’s adorable, with big black glittering eyes and a pink ribbon fashioned around her neck in a bow. attached, a small card.

in messy scrawl, it reads:

Sorry for picking on ya

You’re pretty cool, lamb chop.

— JJ :)

maybe he wasn’t so awful after all.

[netherfeildren]

How to Endure Ardor:

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: Joel teaches you how to love him.

Rating: Explicit 18+

Content Warnings: Post outbreak; QZ Joel Miller; I'm saying this, but the setting is sort of ambiguous anyways, Stream of consciousness, Character Study, Alternating POVs; PIV sex; The troubles and toils of breaking up and then making up with a fucked up old man; Uncaring Joel; Mentions of painful sex; Toxic relationships or situationships or whatever you want to call it; I think I'm addicted to the idea of a Joel who'll never love you and I should probably see a doctor about it

A/N: she remembers how to write, who'd of thought!

Word Count: 1.3K

Read on AO3

This is a lesson:

“Tell me again,” she says, and it’s a begging.

A begging like what? Something that carries shame and smallness in the shape of it. Stay a little longer. It humiliates him for the wretchedness it pulls from him. Joel, please. Seeping blood the color of her supplication. Please, she says, please. And who else says please to him anymore? Who asks him for anything anymore but her? The only ones who ever had are long past and gone, and he can’t even barely remember they were ever really there to ask anything of him to begin with—can’t remember what it feels like to owe someone something and want to give it to them in a way that will actually make him. 

Tell me what again? That I want you? That I’ll stay? That I love you? I’ll come back, he says instead, the only thing he can promise and keep. And he wonders if it humiliates her too, the way he lies, the way he runs, the way he swears, the way he always comes back and comes back but never returns with the things she needs. A humiliation just like it is a begging. 

The thing they have: it’s strange, fickle, honest in its lies, very, very ugly. An ugliness that is shocking in a world gone to rot already. The sky doesn’t shine anymore and they bask in it. 

But also, and, the thing they have: it’s physical, saving.

This is obvious too, even if only to them.

He slides inside and you’re what? Hot and wet and slick, and—yes, a thing like a dream, but still only a thing. Something to have, something close to desire, but not quite, more like biological want. Woman turned possession. In his mind this is an excuse, a reason, a begetting. Like, what—like what? Like when you want a thing very badly but it is very bad for you, and you need to make up any excuse to have it, lie and lie and lie—to your mother, your best friend, the mirror—a begetting like that. Easy to understand only if you’ve been there. 

It started simple, it started like nothing, it started like the first time you meet someone and you know they’ll matter, you know they’ll mean something. So it started like what? Like a lie. 

Shifts at the QZ, long and toiling and reminders of the sort of life that died in an outbreak of monsters, only if for how unlike that past it was. Humans or fungus or—

—men who hurt—you, men who refuse your love, Joel Miller.

The crutch of your age, of you being weaker or smaller or in need, him being easily felled, wooed, easily conquered by something young and given without a try because there was never the opportunity for trying before. 

Now, it is like this: you take my cock and you take my come and you take my nothing, and I give so little and yet you still find a way to take and take and take, leech of a girl, dream of a girl, hungry. And with the excuse that it’s only in a way you contrive for your own self. But in the end, what does that make you? What do I make you into? 

These are the things he asks himself. 

Perhaps she goes away for a time, tries the route of escape, of variety. But when she inevitably comes back because addiction is riddled always in the same sorts of ways: did you try different bodies? Did you try different flavors and sounds? Did you look for me in all of them? 

The answer is usually yes.

At reunion’s turn: he rolls her over to face her, Joel, damp and panting and trying to be something—perhaps better, more honest—after a season of variety and honest attempts and shut eyes. He’s so hard for her, always is. 

Again: he slides inside and you’re what? His, undeniably. Not yours. Something to want but not desire because it’s too romantic a notion, and yes, there’s a difference even if he can’t put into words what that difference specifically is. Body and heart, perhaps, definitions that differ between disparate anatomical parts or levels of deniability. 

Nothing either of you have ever been able to put into words when lust and love aren’t things you can even say out loud for the shame of them, even if they exist within said same anatomy. 

You come together, the season passed, the separation passed but still kept at hand for the next time the closeness becomes too much. 

“Tell me again,” she says, and this time he remembers what she’s asking for.

“I fucking missed you, baby. Missed this pussy.” Because he can’t say it’s her heart he missed. Because Joel Miller does not have honesty in his arsenal. 

He spreads you wide, knee to shoulder so it hurts and pulls, so it’ll be sore and reminding tomorrow. The slap of his pelvis against the back of your thighs is obscene, wet and lewd, a string of girl cum keeping you connected, such togetherness, curve of your ass to the root of his cock—the two of you are together again. 

You know what I thought, when I tried to go away, you say. He doesn’t want to know, but he doesn't tell you so either, only slides in again, the mouth of your womb right there, threatening. I’m never going to feel like this again, and I hate how certainly I know that. He wonders if the unsaid part is that he’s the recipient of that feeling, the hate. 

He wonders if the pinch inside him is hurt. He wonders if the throb is love. 

All he says because he can’t say the rest is, I missed you, I missed you, and if he could look himself in the mirror—something that’s twenty years past lost—he’d ask: are you alright? Just tell me you’re okay. And it sounds in your own voice and with your own care and the feel of your own warmth. Is there anything I can do?

Other times, he sees himself through your own eyes, and then he knows for certain that the throb is love 

So he makes up for lost time, hard—and if it was a thing he knew how to be— loving. Mouth to cunt first, primed and soft and begging, making you come again and then another once more, then inside of you. Slow, splitting you open, red cunt like a wound, balls slapping wet, pulling out to watch the gape of the space he’s carved for himself. His cock is so hard and missing you something desperate. And he’s reminded of what it is to really miss something in a way he hadn’t been in twenty years of apocalypse, he’s forced to realized that it’s been so long since he’d had something to love that he’d not realized the feeling of missing that long past someone had gone away, only faint memory remained. 

Violent, is what this makes him after that realization—thrusts turning hard and punishing. How dare you give yourself to me? How dare you then take yourself away? You come around him again, the gift of your orgasm. How dare you not be able to accept the little I’m able to give when I’m trying so desperately fucking hard to give you even just this? 

He fucks you mean, he fucks you in the way of a man who doesnt know how to say the things he needs to say, in a way that’s confusing, that could make a less discerning woman feel only the hurt. 

But then again, you know him.

Fucks you in a way that is a little bit like love.

And so, amidst all of it, there is an honesty amongst the lies. A truth unspoken that they both know—I’ll come back because I need you, because you’re the only one who can give me the things I'm not strong enough to ask for out loud. 

You’re not sure which of the two of you is the one saying it.

Netherfeildren's Masterlist

Updates Blog

[gay-dorito-dust]

i didn't realise i could just ask here than from messages im so sorry 💀 but im hungry so can you please write some more damian scenarios 😕 (angst/fluff PLEASE 🙏) im sorry if I'm bothering you but i can't get enough of your writing 😔 hope you're taking care of yourself tho!! :)))

This’ll probably seem really short but it’s like almost 10pm and I’m running on fumes and bad mental health days lately 😂

‘What’re you doing my treasure.’ Damian said as he walked into his room, only to find you had let Ace and Titus on the bed and he had to blink twice to make sure his mind wasn’t making up them wearing pyjamas on top of that.

‘Nothing.’ You said nonchalantly as you brought Titus in your arms, cuddling him while he remained looking at his owner.

‘I thought I said none of our pets should be on the bed?’ Damian then said as he gestured to the two dogs that you had let on the bed without his permission as though the situation you both faced wasn’t obvious.

‘I was feeling lonely when you were out on patrol.’ You replied, pouting. ‘That and I was bored and out the dogs in pyjamas to feel included with me being in pyjamas.’ You added as you smiled widely at him. Damian sighed, he shouldn’t be surprised, this was bound to happen sooner or later since you still had a couple more weeks to heal your leg before being cleared for vigilante work again.

So naturally you are going to rope in Titus and Ace one way or another in your shenanigans much like you did with Jerry and Goliath when you had hurt your arm, Damian almost lost his mind trying to find you only to find you fast sleep stop of Goliath, with Jerry acting on guard in front of you both. It was certainly a humorous sight had he not been on high alert when he couldn’t find you in bed upon his return from a mission with Bruce.

‘You could’ve waited until I came back my beloved, I don’t want you hurting your self further just trying to entertain yourself.’ Damian lightly scolded you as he walked over to your side of the bed, kissing you on the forehead before greeting -and thanking- ace and Titus with head pats and ear scratches, as an almost missable smile graced his face upon seeing the two dogs poetically melt into his scratches.

This was the sight he loved most when coming home and he always wanted to come home to this as many times as he could in the nearby distant future.

‘I’ll be fine Dami,’ you said softly as you reached out to hold his cheek in your hand, ‘I’m not doing anything that’ll cause me any discomfort or more pain then I’m already in and that I’ve been in really good company.’ You gesture towards ace and Titus who would press themselves against either of your sides, acting as living crutches for you when you tried to move about the room and down the halls, they’d even look up at you as though to silently ask if you were okay and if you needed to sit down soon.

You knew Damian was behind this and couldn’t help but bring him into a tender to his forehead. ‘Thank you.’ You whispered.

‘For what my treasure?’ He asks softly as he manages to settle himself on the edge of your shared bed.

‘For having ace and Titus look out of me when you’re gone, sometimes I forget how well you know me to know that I’d get restless when healing.’ You said as you patted both dogs on their sides in appreciation as they both decided that they had gotten comfortable enough to start falling asleep. Neither you nor Damian had the heart to tell them to get off, and silently decided that one night every so often could Ace and Titus could share the bed with you and Damian.

‘Like you said I know you, better then most, and I’d like it more if you didn’t go and get yourself hurt from trying to do something beyond your current capability.’ Damian admitted softly as he began to get into more comfortable sleepwear to join you, Titus and ace in bed by climbing into your side of the bed and holding you again his chest upon seeing as how Titus and ace took up his side of the bed.

‘How sweet of you my dear.’ You said cheekily as you kissed his hand that rested on your side before yawning.

‘Sleep my love,’ Damian said softly as he watched you rest your weary and heavy head upon his chest, ‘sleep sweetly.’ He adds just as you succumb to long awaited sleep as he kissed your forehead, only to follow after you not long after being certain that you’d wouldn’t be bothered anymore before joining you in the dream realm either Titus and Ace.

[sinnersweets]

DogDay x Reader part 9

<-----part 8, part 10----->

When I woke up I could tell that DogDay had left. The bed smelled like him which made me miss him more. Having a broken ankle was not fun at all. I was given crutches but honestly who likes using those. Not me. And to make this worse; the doctor said I should heal up in four weeks. That’s right near Christmas time! He said as long as I keep my ankle elevated and follow his directions I should be all healed up in no time. Yay. 

--------------- 

I was on my phone texting my mom when someone knocked on my door. “Who is it?” “Hoppy!” Hoppy? That’s new. “Come in!” She opened the door and right away I saw that she had a basket with plushies and candy. “Brought you something; DogDay had all of us put together this ‘get well’ basket.” She placed the basket on the nightstand next to me. “That’s sweet of you all, thank you.” I reached over, picked up the basket and started looking through it. “Sorry about your ankle; I wasn’t in the theater room when it happened, but DogDay told me what happened.” “Yeah, it’s so weird that the day Bobby asked to be my understudy, I get injured so that she could take my place. I bet you she somehow spoke to the universe to send a storm over and have the power go out.” I spoke while opening a piece of candy. “The power went out? That’s odd. All the lights were on everywhere else in Playcare.”  

When she said that I almost choked on the candy that I had just put in my mouth. “What did you say?” Hoppy looked confused but she said what she had said just a second ago. “Yeah...the power didn’t go out.” I sat in silence and started thinking. The power didn’t go out; so that means someone cut the power in the room. But what about the trap door? It was closed the whole time and would’ve made a noise when it opened.... The thunder. It was really loud and someone must’ve been waiting for that to happen in order to open the door without anyone hearing it. This was planned. 

I started to clench my fists in anger. “Y/N? You okay?” Hoppy sat down at the end of my bed. “This was all planned! Haha oh my gosh.... Bobby. She did this. She cut the lights, she opened the trap door, hell she even placed a spider on top of my head!” I started laughing historically. Bobby just looked at me with her eyes wide open. “Y’know what? I could totally see her doing something like that. She's not keen on someone trying to steal her 'man' from her. Especially since you and DogDay are getting close.” She clicked her tongue and moved her eyebrows up and down.  

My face started to feel warm. “We’re just friends!” Hoppy then started to laugh and pound her fist on the bed. “Uh huh sure~ When you’re not here DogDay talks about you nonstop! It’s cute but can get tiring.” She laughed while saying that last part. “He talks about me? What does he say?!” “Nope; can’t say. I’m sworn to secrecy by my leader and friend.” I playfully rolled my eyes at her.  

--------------- 

Hoppy and I chatted for a little bit longer before she had to go back to rehearsal. When she left, I was all alone for like five seconds and then my phone started ringing. I looked at the caller ID and saw that it was my mother. I took a deep breath in before answering her call. “Hi mom.” “Y/N M/N L/N what’s this I hear that you broke your ankle?!” “Oh thanks mom I’m doing fine thanks for asking.” I could hear my mom sigh through the phone. “Y/N I’m serious! All you texted your father was that you broke your ankle and that’s it! You didn’t even tell me your own mother!”  

I was thankful that she couldn't see my face right now. I know my mother meant well but she was just so over barring. “I didn’t tell you because I knew how you would react and guess what? This is exactly how I pictured it.” “I’m not going to argue with you. Where are you right now?” “Um...work?” I had to pull the phone away from my face because my mothers voice got louder. “You’re at work! Young lady you shouldn’t be at work. You should be at home so someone can look after you.” “I live alone mom, and besides I have doctors here to look after me.” And DogDay. “Where do you work that has doctors on board?” “Playtime mom.”  

I stopped listining to her because the door started to open and DogDay poked his head in. I waved at him to come in. “Hey mom-listen I’ll call you back one of the doctors just came in.” “Well then put me on the phone with them I want to have a word with them because-” Click. “Oh no we got disconnected.” I laughed and set my phone on the nightstand. “Didn’t mean to interrupt your call Angel.” DogDay walked over to me and pulled up a chair. “Oh no you weren’t interrupting at all.” We both chuckled. DogDay was resting his head on his paw as he looked at me. “I missed you Angel.” I smiled and said, “I missed you too. How was rehearsal?” DogDay sighed before saying, “Long. Especially now that BB is in it.” I thought about telling him that I’m most likely like this because of her, but I also didn’t know how he would take the news. They were all supposed to be friends. 

“CatNap wanted me to tell you that he hopes you’ll recover soon. Oh, and that he hopes that he didn’t scare you when you fell.” I didn’t remember seeing him around me. “He was there?” “Mhm, he’s the one that put you to sleep. He’s not really a fan of seeing anyone cry.” As I put two and two together it made sense. “Oh, I totally forgot that he has the sleeping gas.” DogDay nodded.  

“Where’s Damian at? I miss the little kiddo.” “He’s in the counselors office with Mrs. Stella I think.” Odd. I wondered what he was doing in there. “You look a little down Angel.” “Hm? Oh no I'm just bored.” “Hmm...Ah ha! I’ll be right back Angel.” Before I could ask where he was going, he zoomed out of the room. Double odd. 

--------------- 

Half an hour went by and DogDay had yet to come back. I could feel myself starting to get sleepy when a knock jolted me up. “C-come in!” As the door opened, in stepped in DogDay; wearing a white lab coat, a stethoscope, and a clip board. A huge grin appeared on my face.  

“Good evening, Angel, I am doctor DogDay here to do a check up on you.” I chuckled at how silly and cute this was. DogDay walked over to me and placed his clip board down. “First things first I will be listening to your heart.” You’d expect him to use the stethoscope but no. He leaned down and pressed his ear against my chest. I froze and felt my face heat up. “Mhm heart rate is a little elevated.” “I wonder why haha....” DogDay moved away from my chest and scribbled something down on his clipboard. “Next your temperature.” His paw moved to my forehead and rested there for a few seconds. “A little warm.” DogDays paw then slid down to my cheek and he rubbed his thumb there while asking me some questions. “Elevated heart and warm face, can you think of why this may be happening Angel?”  

I just stared blankly at him. “I-I um couldn’t say.” DogDay nodded his head and went to go write something else down. “Well Angel, there’s only one thing that could describe these symptoms.” “Oh? And what’s that?” His other paw grabbed onto my face and pulled me closer to his. My heart started beating faster and faster as my face got close to his. I closed my eyes not knowing what to expect. “Mwah.” He kissed my nose. I fluttered my eyes open not expecting that. “You have a crush on me~” I chuckled nervously. “Whaaat?” “Don’t deny is Angel.” I tried thinking of something, anything! But couldn’t. I sighed in defeat and nodded. “I do.”  

DogDays tail started wagging. “Well Angel I think you’ll be happy to know that I too, have a crush on you.” I smiled widely and pulled him into a hug. “Haha, oh I would’ve been crushed if it was one sided.” “Me too Angel. Thankfully Hoppy told me today after she visited you.” I pulled back and looked at him. “Hoppy?! She told you? I didn’t even say anything to her!! What did she say?!!” “Sorry Angel, I was sworn to secrecy.” I fell back onto the bed and laughed while shaking my head. “You guys and your secrecy.” We both laughed and spent the rest of the day together; now knowing that we both liked each other. 

A/N: Yay he likes us back!!! Next chapter is the show!!

[eat-a-dicker]

dev reminds me of a place to which i cannot return.

i've seen the sentiment going around that dev and hazel should have had a real conversation and while i think so as well, i don't want the show to use hazel as dev's one emotional crutch to get him to calm down, because that isn't precedent for a healthy relationship. dev lacks any support network and honestly if hazel was there, in the scene where he gives peri the key, she might have made the situation worse. dev in the finale and in the episodes leading up to the finale was exploiting his own feelings for hazel to treat her worse than before they became friends. he is taking out his frustration with his father on hazel, his crush and as of this point in time, only real friend (and also the only person in the entire town he genuinely likes) and it's clear he needs an outlet for that behavior because it turns self destructive very quickly.

there's an episode about how she's best friends with jasmine and winn and not to knock these characters, but her deepest bond is with dev.

[nightdivinity]

Drink Responsibly: Chapter 1

ABO!Vampire!Batfam x reader

Minors! Do! Not! Engage! +18 only!

Platonic!Alfred, Bruce x reader, Possessive! Batboys x reader

Warnings: Bad life choices, possessive behavior, a/b/o, they're vampires, loooong age gaps, no proofreading, reverse harem.

Writer's Note: I am so tired. I exist only because of caffeine and spite. So here you go, Chapter 2 is done as well. It will come out Friday hopefully.

Grey eyes stare into yours as you try your hardest to not squirm under the intensity. How did you get to be where you are? You have no clue. Honestly, there shouldn’t have been a callback. You should not have landed this opportunity for the second interview. The initial screening process should have weened you out in the first place.

From what you had gathered from the chatty chauffeur in the town car, (the town car! They knew you had no car to get to Wayne Manor, let alone to your job. Yet they still sent you someone to go pick you up from your ratty apartment.) This was all ordained by someone much higher than Mr. Pennyworth in front of you. The talk with the chauffeur had almost put you at ease until you looked out the window and saw the heavy iron gate open to Wayne Manor’s winding driveway. There’s no doubt in your mind. You shouldn’t be here. In more ways than one.

It made your bandages itch the more you thought about it. You couldn't scratch them like the feral animal you were deep down inside. At least, not when you're being as heavily scrutinized as you are now.

“I’m not sure you know what you’re getting yourself into my dear.”, the butler says.

“I want this job.”

He sighs then and reaches for the cup of tea sitting on the table next to him. When you got to the Manor, Mr. Pennyworth had met you at the front step. He still ushered you through a side entrance and a winding set of narrow hallways until you reached the sitting room you were now in. Not that you were complaining about being treated like a servant when you were trying to like hell to land the job.

If ever there was an excellent place to kill someone, this was it. You find yourself thinking as you look away from him and study the art on the walls. The manor itself was far removed from society and the small windowless study with the ornate crackling fireplace was oppressive as much as it was impressive. No one would ever hear you scream.

“The issue is not a matter of want. The issue is a matter of need.”, he says.

You watch him take a sip as a bead of sweat collects at the back of your neck. It was getting too hot in here, and the bandage around your wrist was itching.

“I need it. No one wants to hire me”, You reply.

You’re not sure what you expect after you say that. Half of you were expecting him to start grilling you like he did during your interview two days ago. That one had taken place in daylight, in an ostentatious conference room at Wayne Enterprise's.

You were still waiting for him to pick you to the bone and say, “Why is that?”. The other half feels like the admittance makes you guilty. Guilty of going out that night. Guilty of getting caught in a crowd surge while blackout drunk. Guilty of the infected thralls that were unleashed by the Scarecrow goons. Guilty of killing the infected that had started ripping you to pieces. Not that you remember any of it, frustratingly enough. No one, not even the news, gave enough information on that night. Why was I there?

“How are you doing dear?” Pennyworth asks.

You blink. No one has asked that yet. Not by anyone that you feel genuinely wants to know the answer.

“Good. Sore, and I believe honesty is the best policy. I can’t dance like I used to.”, you joke.

It falls flat in the cramped space as you give him a tight grin. His grey eyes dart momentarily to the crutch that was resting next to the chair, and to the cast going slightly above your knee.

“Yes, honesty is such an important quality nowadays. Might I say, it is fortunate that you survived.”

“No one else thinks that. I’m just thankful that Duke was there. I was told he was the one that got me to the hospital. Now he’s gone and got me this interview.”

It’s funny. Time from that night seems disjointed. While you were black-out drunk, you do feel as though you were only in the club for five minutes. The attack happened at 12:45 am. You remember waking up in the hospital and finding your chart on your way to the bathroom. It said you were admitted at 2 am. The next time you managed to grab it, it had said 12:59 am. Not to mention your wounds were healing at a faster rate than most Omegas. Something was picking deep inside your skull.  

 “Luckily this job is not strenuous if you are up to the task.”

You nod at him. You need this.

“Well, there are rather strict rules. Breaking them is a breach of contract that will be handled severely. This isn’t like a regular job out there. Any problems that arise will not result in a simple firing.”, he pauses before continuing, “For example, personal electronic devices are prohibited in the Manor. Your bags will be thoroughly checked by me upon arrival. You will be allowed devices that are monitored by security.”

“I can’t just be cut off from my family”, you protest.

“We don’t want you to. You may make phone calls during your allotted time off. They will happen here, or in Master Bruce’s office with either him or me in the room. Your predecessor was fond of skirting her duties and we have found the need for such restrictions.”

“While excursions are discouraged, they are not prohibited. We will go over those security measures at a later time. You are to be readily available when called upon at any time they require something. While day workers are employed here, at no point are you allowed to interact with them.”

You can’t help the way your brows furrow. This was going to be a long year if you were to take this opportunity. With each rule, you wondered if this was why the position was empty for so long.

“I tend to the bedrooms, and at no point should you enter them unless invited by the occupant. You will be given a room as well, and I would appreciate cleanliness. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner are all served at the same time, tardiness is prohibited.”

“Will I be helping in the kitchen?”, you ask.

“No. Not unless you want to, if you are going to cook, please notify me accordingly.”

“So, wait. I’m confused. Just what is my job here?”

Alfred sighs and for the first time since you’ve met the prim and proper gentleman, he seems a bit haggard. Which did not make you feel good.

“It gets awful lonely here in the manor. As I’m sure you are aware, Alphas live for a long time. Particularly ones infected such as those in Wayne Manor. Now and then it is refreshing to have something that brings more life into such a place. The children have taken an interest in you, and that is enough for Master Bruce.”

“I’m not a toy.”

“No. You’re fortunately not. What you are being offered is room and board, all you have to do is adhere to the rules. In exchange, you have to be a friend. Surely you know how to do that”?

If he had asked your friend, he’d have been met with a resounding no. After that night you had found yourself crippled in the hospital with no friends to speak of. Your friend had been peeved, rightfully so, that you had just packed their wasted butt into a car with a stranger. You had been miffed because hello?? They weren’t the ones chomped on by a deranged rabid Beta. They had made it home in one piece, even getting past the front door and into their bed. Both of you had been wasted, so why act like it was all your fault? You were getting tired of the world treating you like you were the root cause of life’s issues.

“I won’t be doing any of that”, you ask.

Now he just looked downright uncomfortable. You were almost embarrassed, but the question needed to be asked. Being hired to be a friend to Alphas that were at least a century old likely resulted in you waking up in a bed that’s not yours.

“Only if you consent to it. You won’t be reprimanded for not doing it, or if you do find yourself in that position.”, he clears his throat, “Healthcare and dental is provided. Due to your circumstances as an Omega, blockers will be provided along with your daily vitamins. Your health and safety is paramount to us.”

You had nothing more to say. Silently you sat there, running through any alternative options, and yet you kept hitting a wall. There was no denying it, this was the best option you could be given. All you had to do was smile and nod and make it a year. By then you should be able to get your feet back underneath you and be able to reassess your situation. Who knows? You might just like it.

“I’m going to say, you have a deal”, you smile at him.

“Then please, call me Alfred.”

He gets up then and holds a hand out to you to help you out of your chair. His smile back is warm, creases folding up from his eyes, a drastic change from the cold persona that you had started becoming accustomed to.

“Shall I call for the town car Ms. (L/N)?”

This was the start of a beautiful friendship, you decided. You nod your head as he pulls you up and gives you a brisk but friendly pat on the shoulder.

“Duke, you don’t have to do this”, you protest.

It was the thirteen-hundredth time you’ve said it. When Alfred closed the interview, he had taken the time to walk you to the front door, pointing out so many rooms that it all went over your head. You almost made it to the front. Then Duke saw you and took over from there.

“No, no, and for the last time, stop. I want to do it”, Duke grins up at you.

He was on the floor, taping up the last of your boxes. You hate to admit it, but you’re not sorry in the slightest as he does all the heavy lifting. The best part about it was getting to see all the muscles in his back when he turned around. Yum. Hey, you were a red-blooded Omega. There were just some things you couldn’t fight.

“Be careful not to break that”, you warn.

“Right, because what will the world do without these little tchotchkes?”, Duke laughs.

Somehow, not surprisingly, he dodges the stray crutch that you toss half-heartedly in his direction. At this point, he was used to you trying to weaponize your “mobility aide”.

It all started when he helped you get back to your apartment, in a wheelchair that he bought. Then he abandoned said wheelchair and carried you bridal style up several flights of stairs. Citing that the elevator was too dangerous because it hadn’t been inspected in the past decade. Even ignoring you when you told him that it would be far more likely for both of you to fall to your death in the stairwell. This was all two weeks ago, and he still refuses to use the elevator.

He was on the floor now, humming and throwing your shit in boxes. You weren’t sure how he did it. When you agreed to the move, you had been internally wincing and panicking. Thinking it was just going to be you, hopping pitifully around the room. Probably taking breaks and reminiscing over the stray artifacts of your life. You would’ve needed at least three days max to get packed. Duke cut it down to two hours.

“Sooooooooo”, you draw out, “Tell me about the others.”

 “There’s not much to say, not a lot that I can either way. What do you want to know?”

Your eyes narrow as he turns weirdly evasive. He always got a little cagey when you brought up his adoptive family. Never quite answering the question.

“What are they like? Are they nice?”, you ask.

He pauses and stands, turning his back to you so he can put a box on the trolley. We’re going to take the elevator. You thought with a smug sort of glee at the realization. That means you’ll be in your wheelchair. See, you’re slowly reclaiming your independence. Sort of.

“Um. Cass is really nice, but you won’t see her often. Same with Steph. They both kind of do their own thing and no one lives at home besides Alfred, Bruce, and me. Though that might change.”

He pauses again. You stick your tongue out at his back only for him to whirl around to face you. Quickly you snap it back in and try to appear innocent as you stare up. Ew. Popcorn ceiling. You wonder for a second if you could have asbestos in your lungs from that.

“Dick, I mean Grayson, he oversees the training of the Alpha taskforce in Bludhaven. Jason avoids Bruce like the plague while doing the most to get his attention, and I can't really get into what he does for a living. You don't want to know. Tim lives and breathes at Wayne Enterprise’s various global sectors, some of the time, he’s the hardest to track. Damian has been somewhere in Pakistan. Where? I don’t know. I would avoid him and Jason if at all possible. Not that you'll likely see them."

You had to smother your cry of relief. This was going to be a lot easier than you thought. There were only going to be three people that you had to worry about. Maybe you were going to finally complete a New Year’s resolution now that you had time. The world was looking up for you.

“I think that’s it, are you ready?”

His question breaks off your train of thought. You can’t help but groan when he gets near you, arms outstretched, ready for a hug and humiliating you. To make matters worse, he says the worst thing possible.

“Up you go!”, Duke crows.

“No! To the chair! Put me down you overgrown bat!”, you say.

Thankfully he does, gently plopping you down in the cushy seat and stooping to ruffle your hair. You were hissing mad. Not that he cared. Just to goad you further, he reached over to the handles behind your back and rang the obnoxious little bike bell he attached to it.

“Run”, you warn him.

He laughs while sprinting with the dolly all the way to the elevator as you try like hell to mow him down. Both of you completely missed the way his phone kept blowing up with notifications, the small dings being mistaken for a bike bell.

[fuctacles]

Trans is fine, but you better not be a Swiftie!

For @subeddieweek Day 5 | T | 1502 | cw: hinted transphobia | transfem Steve, PDA, rockstar Eddie, jealousy, possesive Stevie, bitchy Stevie | Ao3 Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7 | Ao3

It took the whole of Corroded Coffin to convince her to go to the concert. It may make her sound like an unsupportive girlfriend, but she hasn't been to any of their gigs in months. Eddie never complained about it, aware that metal concerts aren't for everyone, even if they do like the music. She's also hit a weird stage in her transition when she didn't feel like going to public events. 

But here she was, at their first solo concert, no festival to crutch on. In the newest band t-shirt, one she saw through every stage of designing, her tits barely making a dent (Eddie had a different opinion on that topic), while two skanks next to her had her cleavages on full display in their tiny cut-up t-shirts.

They were in the VIP lounge, waiting for the band to emerge from backstage. Stevie could have been there with them, but the rush and heat behind a concert like this gave her a worse headache than the actual music. So instead, she had to sit there with two textbook examples of a groupie. And one of them looked meaner than Carol, back from high school, when she didn't get her chocolate pudding.

"You sure you're in the right place?" one of them finally speaks up.

Stevie looks pointedly at her band t-shirt. 

"Is this not a Taylor Swift concert?" she asks, eyes going wide. The second girl presses her lips, holding back a laugh. The first one narrows her eyes, though. 

"Don't sass me, girlie, you know what I mean," she hisses. "Wearing plain jeans and a hoodie to meet Eddie Munson? That's so disrespectful."

Stevie wouldn't call her jeans plain. They were expensive mom-cut and made her ass look good. The girl didn't need to know she treated them like a premium version of sweatpants. And the hoodie was Eddie's. He gave it to her before going on stage tonight. 

She shrugs off her words.

"I don't think he'll mind."

The girl scoffs. 

"Oh, he's too nice to say anything, but he'll know you're a poser. Who goes to a metal concert dressed like that? He'd never go for you."

Stevie raises her eyebrows, taken aback.

"Excuse me?"

"Excuse you," the girl barks back, nonsensically. Her friend touches her arm as if giving her a sign to back dial it down, but she either doesn't notice or chooses to ignore her. "You don't look like you're here for the music, hell, you probably can't name a single song!"

(Stevie named some of them herself.)

"So you must be here for Eddie," she concludes with a sneer. 

"Well, I am here for him," Stevie deadpans truthfully. This seems to further fuel her VIP lounge companion.

"Keep dreaming. He's into real metalheads," she says haughtily, popping the collar of her battle vest. It's so cartoonish it takes everything from Stevie not to burst out laughing. "What do you even listen to? Country?"

"Taylor Swift, I already told you."

"See, Eddie hates normies like you. Swifties are so fucking mainstream, you'll just embarrass yourself. Maybe you should go," she suggests with a pointed look.

Stevie gives her a pitying smile back. Clearly, she wasn't as big of a fan as she claimed to be if she hadn't seen the photos of Eddie in official Taylor Swift merch that were trending just a couple of months ago. 

"Eddie's looking for someone real, not a fake bitch like you."

She was going to play nice, but that was taking it too far. She felt her hackles rise and her face turned into a frown.

But before she could say anything, the second girl slapped her friend on the chest.

"What the fuck, dude?! You can't just say shit like that!"

"Like what?!" She slaps her back. "Do you think she actually cares about their music? She screams fake pop shit!" She throws her hand back, motioning at Stevie.

Who was too taken aback to react at this point.

"Fuck, I thought you were being transphobic." The girl lets out a nervous laugh. "Sorry."

"What?" The first girl takes a glance back at Stevie like she hasn't noticed before. It was kind of flattering, considering she wasn't that far in her transition, but she wouldn't take an idiot's oversight as a compliment. "I don't care about that! Mainstream music is a bigger sin than being transgender!"

"I'll drink to that."

The band chose this moment to appear at the steps to the lounge, Eddie raising the water bottle in his hand in a mock cheer. 

"Eddie!" The two girls stand up in unison, and it takes all of Stephanie's willpower not to roll her eyes. Instead, she gives a wry smile to Jeff, who seems to be in a similar state of mind.

"We're here too, you know," he murmurs under his breath. 

Gareth nudges his arm.

"Well, I'm glad they're not here for me," he whispers back.

Stevie snorts after hearing that, but the girls are none the wiser, too preoccupied with their beloved frontman.

"Hello ladies, hope you didn't wait too long," he greets them, accepting their enthusiastic hugs and letting them kiss his cheek. 

Stevie keeps her face carefully neutral.

"It's okay, we know you're exhausted after the concert." The first girl smiles sweetly at him, and it's becoming increasingly difficult for Stevie not to gag at the shift in attitude. "I'd wait the whole night to meet you." She might need a bucket right now.

Eddie laughs nervously, taking a step back to put some distance between them.

"Ashley and Xena, right?" he asks.

"I'm Xena!" The girl exclaims, clearly proud of her unusual name. Stevie does roll her eyes this time.

Gareth appears in front of her, snickering, and she punches him softly in the thigh before raising the same fist to fist bump him. He offers her the tray of cookies he picked up from the table.

"Hi. How are you doing?"

"I'm fine." She shrugs and picks up one of the cookies. "Thanks."

He nods and retreats to one of the couches. There are three of them, set up in a triangle around a table with snacks and drinks. Which is very convenient, making Stevie think Chrissy has planned it out.

"You already know them, but it's rude not to introduce my friend." Eddie grins, making room for the rest of the band to properly greet the fans. "This is Jeff, Gareth, and Grizzly the Teddy-bear. He gives the best hugs," he says with a grin. Ted rolls his eyes.

"Just Ted is fine. But I do give the best hugs." He grins.

Eddie leaves them to it and finally goes to sit next to his girlfriend, throwing his arms over the back of the sofa and sinking into the cushions.

"I'm so tired," he groans. 

"Too tired to greet me properly?" she asks with a raised eyebrow. She can feel the eyes of the other girls on them.

"Never." Eddie raises his head immediately. "Sorry, baby." He leans in to kiss her on the cheek, but she moves her head away.

"I said properly," she repeats, but her tone shifts into her more authoritative one. He hesitates for a millisecond, but his eyes don't even shift away to look at their surroundings. Stevie enjoys the power trip, seeing him uncaring of who's looking and where they are.

"Of course, sorry," he amends, straightening up to go in for a proper kiss.

He lets out a surprised whimper when she dominates it immediately, grasping his chin and claiming his mouth like she's been starving for it throughout the whole concert. Eddie goes limp in her grasp, but she wants to make it clear who he belongs to. She grabs his knee possessively, angling him even more towards her, and her other hand moves from his chin to his hair. His locks are damp with sweat after the concert, but she doesn't mind, because it's exactly how she likes him. Dirty, unkempt, falling apart under her hands. 

She tugs at his hair, messing further the haphazard bun he's tied it into. He sighs, melting further into her, and it makes it easier to grasp his thighs and pull him into her lap. They finally part with a wet smack, and she can look into her boyfriend's glossy eyes.

"There's my good boy," she praises. "Hi."

"Hi," he croaks back with a dazed smile.

"Booo, get a room!" one of their friends speaks up. 

Eddie groans and hides in the crook of her neck, too weak from the kiss to face the teasing yet. So Stevie takes over the social interaction for him, lacing her hands together at the small of his back while he collects himself. She sticks out her tongue to Gareth.

"Shut up, we'll behave now," she says, before turning to the two girls, her jaws shattered on the floor and there to stay for her to stomp on. She smiles charmingly at them. "You guys were saying?"

Shameless plug: @stevieweek

[marigold-hills]

@wolfstarmicrofic | August 25th: win | 1000 words

CW: attempted mugging, mentions of broken bones

Remus Lupin is well aware what he looks like: the wrong side of lanky, with a nasty scar across his face from falling off a bike at five, and a nastier one down his sternum from heart surgery at fifteen. Weak knees, weaker ankles. Breakable wrists. He surrounds himself in soft things, wears sweaters and cardigans even in the summer, when his varied blood deficiencies keep him cold in the heat.

He doesn’t usually go out in the dark. His library desk job keeps his work hours to a respectable 9-to-5, and he’s not one for bars, or clubs, or any other sort of entertainment that would require him to be out in the evening.

Today? Well, there was a book signing at the library. It run late, and he was having a nice chat with the writer, managing to keep his fan-boying to a minimum (it was the James Potter, after all). There was wine, which he doesn’t usually partake in. So: it’s well past his work hours, he’s pleasantly buzzed and on a high from a successful social interaction. Then he sees him.

It’s probably the most beautiful human specimen Remus’ has ever seen. He was stunning in the library, where he accompanied the James Potter for the signing, and he is just as lovely now, in the dim unflattering streetlamps. The hair, the bone structure, the shoulders. Everything about him made Remus decide not to say a single word to him, only gape half-open-mouthed and watch from across the room.

(Doing it now, as he as good as follows him down darkened South London streets, feels roughly stalkerish. Again, Remus knows what he looks like. He’s got too big ears and slightly too big front teeth and definitely too big a nose. He wouldn’t even try to talk to someone like this, not for all the embarrassment in the world.)

Remus is slower, especially with the crutch he has had to use since he broke his ankle a month earlier. His foot is still in the awkward boot-cuff. There should be no way of him catching up, so no chance of an interaction, successful or, more likely, otherwise.

Out of the shadows, appears a figure. Hooded, wide-shouldered, knife-wielding. The beautiful friend of James Potter doesn’t notice until the man is almost on him, knife pointed at the Nirvana logo on his T-shirt.

Remus can’t hear what’s said, but he doesn’t really need to. He’s lived in South London all his life, from Lambeth to Peckham - he’s seen his fair share of muggings.

Something comes over him. Maybe the late hour, maybe the wine. Maybe the impossible wrongness of a man so pretty being in such a situation. Whatever it is, before he even thinks about it, he’s somehow caught up.

Next thing he knows, he’s behind the mugger.

Next thing after that, the heavy, metal leg of his crutch makes heavy, violent contact with the side of the mugger’s head.

He falls to the ground in a heap of limbs and dark fabric and dropped knifes and for a terrible second Remus thinks:

“Fuck. I think I killed him.”

Through the wine-haze or adrenaline-haze, or maybe your-dodgy-heart-finally-gave-in-haze, he realises he said it out loud.

The pretty man leans down and checks the muggers head, then his pulse. “He’s fine. Well. He’s probably concussed. That was a mean hit,” he looks at Remus with something like appreciation in his eyes. “Thank you, Remus. Lucky you were here, or he’d have probably made off with my phone.”

“You know my name?” Remus asks rather dumbly. The answer is obvious and self evident because the man just said it.

“Of course I do. I’ve been watching you all night,” the cheekiest smile Remus has ever seen. The man prods the prone mugger with the tip of his shoe. “Who knew it’d take something like this to actually get you to talk to me.”

“Huh,” Remus says. (He has a degree in literature, he should really be able to string a sentence together with some intelligence, but apparently it has abandoned him.)

“Should probably call an ambulance.”

And that brings Remus out of his stupor. “You’re hurt?” He just stops himself from checking the man over, hands itching to reach out and feel for the damage.

“For this one. Can’t really leave him just lying on the side of the road.”

“Oh. Right, of course.”

“And they’ll probably arrest him, while they’re at it. Win-win.”

“Silver linings.”

The man – Remus doesn’t know his name – laughs at that. It’s oddly dog like and on another person it’d be too much, too loud, but on him? Perfection. Remus wants to ask to record it. Maybe playing it in the evenings will cure his insomnia.

Adrenaline wearing off, Remus realises that his broken ankle hurts way more than it should. More than it has for a while. The same amount as…

“I’ve re-broken my ankle,” he doesn’t mean to blurt out loud. There’s immediate concern in the man’s face. Remus half-sits half-slumps down to the pavement. “Yup. I’m pretty sure I’ve re-broken my ankle. Fantastic.”

That’s what he gets for chasing down would-be-muggers down the streets of London. It’s probably some cosmic price to pay for hearing that laugh. It must be delirium: Remus thinks it’s worth it.

There are gentle hands on the side of his face, guiding it upward, and gentle eyes full on sincerity. “Thank you for helping me,” the man says again, “let’s get you to the hospital, alright?”

Through the pain-haze or wine-buzz-haze or maybe you-just-assaulted-someone-haze, Remus becomes shameless. “Will you stay with me?”

“As long as you’ll have me,” the man says and the way he looks at Remus? Like he doesn’t have too-big ears and too-big a nose, or the scar, or the hair he can never get to behave.

Remus, more than shameless: “forever, then.”

The laugh he gets in return is somehow even better. There is nothing mocking about it. Instead, agreeable. “Alright. Forever.”

NOTES:

does this count as a meet-cute?

[myosotisa]

i'm starvin, darlin - e.m.

Eddie Munson x Reader

ǁ summary: Since coming back from the Upside Down, Eddie has slowly been changing. Each week seems to bring something different and he finds himself doing things he never thought he would.

ǁ tags: gender neutral reader, no pronouns, no y/n. nickname used (sweetheart). mentions of season 4 final episode and what occurred. canon divergent (every one lived). it's not smut, but smut adjacent. it's sexy

ǁ word count: 2k

ǁ notes: i sat down and wrote an entire one shot in one sitting again. and i am also not going to edit this one. and i do not feel bad for lowercase hozier title, so don't even try me like that. if y'all really like it, i can add a part 2 with smut, but this is it for now

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There are still a lot of things Eddie is having to come to terms with since the night his heart stopped.

That night in the Upside Down, laying in Dustin’s arms, he had died. Without a doubt. Dustin had felt his pulse and there was nothing there. And though he didn’t know CPR, had no idea what he was doing, Dustin had laid him down on the ground and started to beat against his chest. Like maybe if he hit hard enough and in the right place, his friend would come back to life.

Somehow it worked. No one bothered to ask why.

But they all knew something was wrong two days later. Eddie, barely breathing and with a weak heartbeat, had been dragged back to the surface and hidden away in the RV they had stolen. Someone watched him round the clock as they debated what to do. If they should try to get him to a hospital, how they’d be able to explain it. But then something miraculous began to happen:

Eddie started healing. All on his own. Way faster than any person should have been able to.

His skin stitched itself back together faster than should be possible, leaving less scar tissue than it should have behind. His chest began to rise and fall in more steady breaths, his heart beat getting stronger, bones resetting themselves with slow and quiet creaks as he laid in that RV bed and slept. He’d been asleep since they brought him back.

The day he woke up, his body had almost entirely healed itself. From the brink of death, having even stepped over to the other side, and now he was almost back to before it ever happened. It had only been a week.

Everyone rejoiced, refusing to question anything weird that may have happened in the Upside Down and just thinking they finally won for once. Max had casts on both her arms but was otherwise unharmed, Steve had recovered from his own injuries at the rate of a normal human and now sported a scar around his throat that he sometimes felt self conscious about. Dustin was on crutches with his broken leg for another month at least. Eddie was alive and whole and back to himself. They’d made it, everyone had made it.

He began to notice more and more things that were different as the days went on.

The first thing he caught on to was that he had the capability to be strong. Way stronger than someone who had recently been bed ridden should be. It was like in the comic books with the Hulk – if he wasn’t paying attention or if he got too emotional, he could easily break anything. A walkman destroyed, a ceramic bowl reduced to shards, a metal pipe bent beyond fixing, the wooden handle of a hammer shattered in his grip. The boys were all present for the hammer incident and sighted it as one of the coolest things they had ever seen. They swarmed him, asking him how he did it, what else he could do, how strong he really was.

Only the other teens, Steve, Nancy, Robin, you, started to look a little bit closer.

When the next few changes became apparent, it was clear something unnatural had happened to Eddie that night in the Upside Down. He could feel other people's feelings. They brushed against his consciousness like ghosts whenever he looked at someone. Happiness like warm rays of sunshine, fear like a shuddering gust of wind, anger like hot coals pressed to his skin. It wasn’t a conscious effort – in fact, there were a lot of times he wished he could turn it off. Whenever he looked too hard at someone, it’s like his brain adjusted to a different frequency and their emotions reached out to him, no matter what they were. And he didn’t struggle to make sense of the sensations like he thought he might, his brain completed the dots easily at first, but then he began to recognize them consciously. It was certainly useful sometimes, especially when it came to you, but it still felt a bit invasive. When he’d explained it to a few people, he assured he tried to ignore it whenever he could, but sometimes he couldn’t help but react. The icey spike of terror he felt when you woke up next to him from a nightmare. The velvet comfort that enveloped you and him when he held you after.

The first time he spoke into someone’s mind it was an accident. Steve had whipped toward him, breath catching in his chest, eyes wide and mouth open in a gasp. Eddie felt it like ice down his spine. “Did you… You did that?” He’d asked breathlessly. It had been so shocking, Eddie wasn’t even sure what’d he said, or projected, or whatever it was.

“I - I don’t know.”

Steve stepped closer, suddenly looking determined. “Try to do it again.”

It was a slithering feeling when he dipped back into Steve’s mind. Like sliding his way in between cracks to a place he didn’t belong, seeping into the forefront of his thoughts to plant one of his own. It made him feel dirty, uncomfortable, and wrong. But it worked. Steve explained it as having a thought like his own but it came out in Eddie’s voice instead. An intrusive thought but not an uncomfortable one.

As with all of the other discoveries, a meeting was called. Dustin, Mike, Lucas, Max, Will, El, Robin, Jonathan, Nancy, Steve, and you. Steve did most of the talking while Eddie sat and looked at his hands. These meetings, while he acknowledged were important for everyone to keep track of his progression into… something, it still made him feel a bit like a zoo animal in a cage. A magician with a magic trick. All the boys immediately begged him to do it to them, they wanted to see what it felt like, wanted to see how easy it was for him to do it. 

Nancy and Jonathan had shooed them, catching on to how overwhelmed Eddie was, their excitement and curiosity battering against him like a whipping wind of too much. Once it was just the older people in the room, you crossed over to where he was, kneeled down in front of him, reached out to hold his hand.

Pity felt like someone was pissing in his pants.

“Are you okay?”

How could he say no? How could he admit that he was scared, confused, and feeling more and more like a monster with the passing days? “It’s just a lot. To deal with.”

Your smile was pained as you pushed yourself up onto your calves and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. His came around your waist on instinct, the breath feeling like a wheeze in his lungs as he held tight. Face pressed into your hair with his eyes squeezed shut, he inhaled deep in relief.

That was when the next thing changed.

It was a desire. A need. One he couldn’t place a name to. Like he was desperately missing something, desperately craving something and he didn’t know it was. It crawled under his skin like ants and sent him scratching for a feeling that couldn’t be satiated. No matter what he tried: eating, drinking, masturbating, exercising. The feeling wouldn’t go away. It got stronger day after day, his mind focusing more and more on the void it left behind until it was all he could think about.

Steve threw a little get together at his house once a month or so. Just time for everyone to get together, eat some food, listen to music, play board games, maybe watch a movie. This was the first get together since his hunger began.

He was sitting on the couch on his own, decompressing. While normally he was right in the middle of everything, today it was a lot to handle when he was hyperfocused on the crawling beneath his skin. He had his legs spread wide, hands resting on them, leaning deep into the cushions of the couch in Steve’s basement. While he had initially tried to close his eyes, hang his head back, maybe stare at the ceiling – he couldn’t stop his attention from drifting back to you.

You and Eddie had been friends for a long time. Understandably, you’d gotten much closer after the events in March. The two of you had helped each other through hard nights of nightmares, panic attacks in parking lots, flashbacks in public. You’d been a great comfort to him since he came back. But today your laugh sounded like music. The smell of your perfume hit him even across the room. Each emotion crashed over him in waves, pushing and receding like the tide as he tried to get off your frequency, unentangle himself from you before he did something he didn’t mean to do.

I’m starving.

Your back stiffened, the grip on your plastic cup getting just a bit tighter. A moment of fear quickly shifted to mellowed surprise, curiosity. He’d never spoken into your mind before, hadn’t meant to do so now. But you still shifted, your eyes slowly coasting across the room until you caught sight of him on the couch.

A shock of electricity shot down his spine as you made eye contact, his hands tightening over his thighs in reaction. Unsure exactly what to do, he settled for projecting again. Slithered his way into your ears and settled a respectful distance from the area he’d never been brave enough to venture. Sorry, he offered with a wince, didn’t mean to.

What he didn’t expect was the utter flood of feeling that hit him next. Like a drip of warm honey settling into the space between his hips, pooling there in a subtle swirl as the warmth from it started to diffuse outward. You realized you’d been staring and your eyes flit away, but the feeling didn’t cease. In fact, it only got stronger. Your lower lip caught on your teeth as you shifted between your feet. Things that would be completely normal to see, wouldn’t have anyone looking twice, but Eddie could. Your desire. The want that poured from you like water when your eyes first met his.

Was this the first time? Had something changed between you and him? Or had he just never caught on before?

The ants beneath his skin began to vibrate as he narrowed in on the feeling, on you. Like the part of him that had slithered into your thoughts was now bearing down, digging in for purchase, wanting to stay awhile and feed on this new feeling, what you were offering. It didn’t even occur to him what he was doing, how invasive it might be, how wrong he normally would have felt. All he knew is that it felt like licking at the thing he’d been craving for so long and he was helpless to chase after it.

Sweetheart. It came easy as breathing now, teeth sunk into your consciousness from where you stood across the room. You whirled on him again, another flood of warmth hitting him deep as you leaned your hip against the counter you were standing next to and focused on him. What’s got you so worked up?

He couldn’t even consider how bold he was suddenly being, the fear that he might ruin this friendship well out of his grasp. Especially when your embarrassment spiked along with the want, the pool of warmth now suddenly coming to life to have a heartbeat of its own. Your eyes widened, shifting on your feet again as you broke eye contact. It only took a few moments before you couldn’t help but look back at him again. The buzzing settled further, now like a purr beneath his skin. It was bearable as long as you kept your eyes on him.

You wanna do something about it?

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thanks for reading, please reblog and leave a comment if you liked it!

[rememberwren]

A Dichotomy of Thought || 1

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Further Parts You move next door to a disabled veteran and his troubled partner.

Warnings and details: disabled!Johnny; established Ghoap future Ghoap/reader; domestic abuse (not Ghoap); heavy themes of suicide, violence, abuse, poor coping mechanisms, prescription drugs. I’m not sure if I have anything here, let me know if anyone is interested in this series.

#

A helicopter goes down in the mountains of Kazakhstan and it takes a piece of Soap with it. They never recovered the arm—nor the three service members who lost more than their arms in the crash. The thought is one that Johnny’s mind cycles back to often, in moments of quiet or while he lies awake at night feeling tremors in an arm that’s no longer attached. Suddenly he’ll wonder: what are those bones up to, buried in snow and ice so deep the sun will never touch them again? Do they miss me?

Fuck, he misses them.

#

After the accident, the world is very black and white. Mostly it’s black. Blackness at the edge of his vision threatens to creep in when he stands too long, when he stands on his own, when he turns his head too fast. Anytime his blood pressure rises over that Goldilocks number of 120/80, it threatens to drop him faster than Simon used to during their first weeks of training together in the 141.

The doctors say that he’s a miracle. The traumatic brain injury had his brain swelling and pushing at the confines of his skull like water freezing in a bottle. Give him a little longer in the cold and maybe his cap would blow off. Except it hadn’t; he was still dealing with swelling all over: in his thalamus, his hypothalamus, in his cerebrum, all the words he’d never bothered to learn in school and couldn’t fucking remember now no matter how hard he tries. He gets the point. Simon does too. Johnny should be dead.

Instead he just wishes he were.

Even now, when he can remember his name and Simon’s and even (more often than not) the name of the waitress who serves them chicken and waffles at the local diner every Saturday, there are still more bad days than good. Still more darkness than light. Still more nights waking up to the sound of helicopter blades slowing, the relentless hum becoming a deafening chop chop chop like the thrum of his heartbeat. There’s that moment of weightlessness when the helicopter goes down and he has yet to go with it that makes him wake in a cold sweat, nauseous and looking for something to be sick in.

Through it all, Simon is there. Simon is the light. He’d laugh if he heard Johnny say that—though a laugh is probably too generous. Simon doesn’t laugh much these days. Not when he spends three fourths of his time taking care of Johnny and the other fourth thinking about how better to take care of Johnny. If it weren’t for Simon, Johnny would have done himself in by now. There’s a thousand ways to do it; plenty of arms and munitions in the apartment they share together. Or there are the pain pills, if he wanted it to look like an accident. A few too many of those and he could crawl right through that darkness in his vision and find out what’s on the other side. As soon as the thought crosses his mind (and it crosses his mind more often than that fucking chicken crosses the road), the guilt comes, like anyone and everyone can read it on his mind: his mama rest her soul, Simon, Jesus on the cross. After all of the work that has gone into him, into saving his broken body and mind, into rehabilitating him, how can he even think of throwing in the towel?

Turns out it’s pretty fucking easy to think about it.

As a matter of fact, he’s thinking about it the first time he meets you, when you nearly do the job for him.

It’s spring, cool, and he’s working up a goddamn sweat anyway. Simon stands in the alleyway, smoking and pretending not to watch as Johnny hobbles up and down the length of the parking lot with his forearm crutch. His armpit throbs. His knee throbs. His head throbs as he continues along, beating out a strange little rhythm on the concrete—thum-thump, thum-thump, thum-thump. He says all the curse words he knows and dreams up a few new ones too. It’s supposed to be getting easier, but Simon just pushes him harder to make up for the ground he covers. That’s one of the shitty parts about loving an ex-military man; he never goes easy on you.

Johnny’s thinking about the tub upstairs, just big enough for him if he curls in on himself. Sometimes a hot bath helps the knots in his muscles, but sometimes when Simon leaves the room to get a washcloth Johnny will slip beneath the surface of the water and see how long he can hold his—

Then you come out of absolutely nowhere in your shitty little four-door and nearly hit him. As a matter of fact, you do hit his crutch, sending it sprawling out of his hand and sending him clattering to the ground on his bad side. For a moment, he thinks: this is it. This is how I die. Not in a helicopter in Kazahkstan but here, now, today, and he can’t tell if it’s relief in his belly or regret. Then your tires squeal like pigs on the pavement, the smell of burnt rubber thick in the air, and he is face to face with you and your horror, close enough that the air from your hasty turn brushes along his body and sends his heart pounding.

“What the steaming bloody fucking Jesus do you think you’re doing?” he finds himself shouting, pain lancing all along his side from his fake knee to the stump of his arm. Simon is there all at once, cigarette abandoned to smolder to ash in the alleyway, putting his hands under Johnny’s armpits and lifting him like a child even when he yelps in pain like a kicked dog. Johnny leans against him heavily. The edges of his vision are turning black. He bangs his fist against the hood of your car. “Did Jesus send ye? Did He tell ye to finish the fucking job and do me in? ‘That’s the cunt right there, beam him with your car’? Did he tell you that?”

You reluctantly get out of the car, not even wearing a goddamn seatbelt. The car’s soft, insistent alarm begins to remind you with unending politeness that the door is open and your seatbelt is off while you stand there, pallid, eyes huge and watering in the face of Johnny’s shouts.

He sees then that one of your eyes is swollen almost completely shut, blood turning the white sclera pink like the fine mist of blood over the snow when they finally pulled Johnny free from the helicopter. No wonder you didn’t see him coming, with a single functioning eye. He’s opened his mouth to tell you so (and to tell you a dozen other fucking things) when he nearly swoons, the rug of the world being tugged under his feet by the hand of God.

Simon slips a firmer arm around Johnny’s waist.

A man gets out of the passenger side. He begins to berate you for not paying attention, for nearly killing Johnny. Johnny agrees, but is annoyed all the same. He’s the one who almost died; leave the shouting to him.

“I’m so sorry,” you choke out, tears dripping near-constant from your eyes. “I’m an idiot. I’m so sorry. Let me get your—”

“Done enough, haven’t you?” Simon asks cooly. It sends you reeling back into the car where you sit with both hands over your mouth, chest hitching with your panicked sobs.

“Hey, is he, like, okay?” your partner asks.

“Fuck off,” Simon says, deftly ushering Johnny over one shoulder and holding the crutch in the other. He carries them back to the elevators without breaking a sweat, and Johnny cries on his shoulder from the pain of it, the sheer embarrassment of it the whole way home. The day before Kazahkstan he couldn’t have been able to tell you the last time he cried; now he cries every fucking day from one reason or another.

“I’m fine,” Johnny says when they make it back to the apartment and Simon eases him down into a chair. They arrange his knee in the one position that has it throbbing less, but then Johnny bats Simon’s hands away. “Go. I’m fine. I don’t need you hoverin’ over me.”

“Alright.”

“Fuck off with yer alright.”

Simon doesn’t say anything. Johnny hears his footsteps leading toward the bedroom they share—hardly a bedroom, how long has it been since they slept there together peacefully? Since they fucked? Johnny can tell you how long it’s been. Since before things went black and white. The footsteps stop then.

“You stepped in front of her, Johnny,” Simon says, his voice low but not quiet enough to count as a whisper. “I watched you do it. Don’t think you’re so fucking slick.”

He shuts the bedroom door behind him.