#what I should be doing with a boy right now!!!

[catnippackets]

yet another reason why queer romance in media that is very subtle or more queer-coding than actual explicit rep is so much more compelling than the wealth of straight stories that are out there is bc I think a lot of romance writers forget that you have to like. show not tell. and imply things. and if you hustle things along and put two characters together for the sake of it instead of really working to build their relationship and show how well they work with each other it's not really going to be as interesting to people. and for some reason, a staggering amount of people do not know how to write romance properly so you get a very bland forced dynamic that either feels like an afterthought (he's a boy and she's a girl, hey they could be together because that's what happens!) or the only thing that matters about their characters (see her? she's the Love Interest. that is all she's there for)

however if you're being censored and you literally can't make your characters say "I love you" or kiss or maybe even hold hands you're going to have to come up with more creative ways to tell your audience that they're in love and that usually results in the most poetic beautiful stuff you've ever seen that's SO much more interesting than two characters who make eye contact and go into the slow-mo rose petals scene that's basically screaming at you "hey look at these two. they're in love. you're supposed to be invested in their relationship now. do you get it?" eye contact held for slightly too long in an emotional scene is more compelling. a hand very lightly touching their back is WAY more compelling.

and might I add this is not even impossible to achieve with uncensored straight romances at all like Pride & Prejudice is wildly popular for this exact reason. how many times have I seen people going insane over the hand flex scene. they didn't even kiss in that movie unless you count the extended ending. and everyone loves it. because it's done RIGHT.

tldr; romance is hard to write and you have to put in the effort if you want people to care about your ship. now go forth and imply something

QUICK EDIT TO ADD ALSO when things are more subtle that gives people more space to interpret the dynamic as whatever they want. something might be subtle because that's all they're allowed to show, but something might be subtle because that literally what it's supposed to be. as an aroace person I personally see a LOT of queerplatonic vibes from more subtly played relationships and it's so incredibly exciting and heartwarming for me. and that's a whole new realm of relationship that I think should also be given more attention

[heavenlybodies333]

Acting on your worst behavior -S.R part I here

Spencer Reid x Hotch’s daughter!reader

You’re late.

You’re shaking.

And you’re pissed off at the world in that way that only heartbreak can make you.

Your bag’s half-zipped, makeup tossed in without care, your outfit borderline inappropriate for the temperature but perfect for the frat house theme party you were headed to. Glitter on your collarbone, a gloss on your lips that wasn’t there fifteen minutes ago.

It’s been three weeks since Hotch forced it to end. Since Spencer stopped answering your texts. Since he started following the rules and you started breaking every single one you could.

Because fuck it, right? If you’re already going to hell, you might as well enjoy the way down.

Your crop top was too tight, your skirt too short, your pupils too blown to be sober. You hadn’t slept more than four hours total this week, and your body was running purely on adrenaline, prescription stimulants, and whatever trauma your daddy issues were metabolizing into fuel.

And speaking of…

You don’t even hear the door open—you’re too focused on digging your keys out of the bottom of your bag when you sense him behind you. You felt the soft pressure of a hand settle against your lower back. Familiar. Intimate. Unwelcome.

You jumped, turning around too fast, heart hammering.

Spencer.

Of course it was Spencer. He stood there, all unreadable intensity, curls still damp from the rain and his FBI windbreaker slung halfway up his forearm like he’d rushed over. Like he’d been worried.

You blinked at him, blood fizzing with panic and stimulants. “What the hell, Spence?” you snapped. “You scared me.”

“I didn’t mean to.” His voice was low, careful. His eyes scanned your face. “You okay?”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m fine. I’m just late.”

He frowned, stepping closer. You took a step back.

“I’ve been calling you.”

“I’ve been busy.” You turned away from him, digging harder into your bag for your keys. “Maybe you should call your new academy girlfriend instead.”

There it was. He’d known when he agreed to go out for drinks with Prentiss and JJ that they were trying to get his mind off you and introduced him to an old colleague that she’d gone to training with.

He stiffened. “It wasn’t like that.”

“Yeah I bet.” You finally yanked your keys free, too hard. Something else flew with them—shit—a prescription bottle clattered to the floor between you.

You both froze. You dove for it, but he was faster. He picked it up and turned it over.

“No stop—” you reached, but he was already turning it over in his hand. His sharp eyes scanned the label in a flash, and then slowly, slowly lifted to yours.

His whole expression changed—concern melting into something furious. “Are you serious right now?”

“Give it back.” You reached for it. He held it out of your reach.

“This isn’t even your prescription—”

“Leave me alone.”

“This is Adderall.”

You tried to snatch the bottle from his hand. ���Wow. What a genius deduction, Dr. Reid. Must be that PhD at work.”

“Where did you get it?”

“Why do you care?”

He stepped in closer. “Because you’re shaking.”

You barked a bitter laugh. “No shit. I’m running late.”

“You’re tweaking. Your pupils are huge and your hands won’t stop moving and you look like you haven’t slept in days.”

“Jesus Christ, Spencer.” You yanked the bottle from his hand, shoving it back into your tote like a cornered animal. “Mind your own business.”

“You are my business,” he snapped. “Or did you forget that part when you decided to pop pills from some horny frat boy who probably thinks Cocaine is a cocktail garnish?”

You scoffed. “That’s rich, coming from the guy who fucked me in Quantico’s security camera blind spot and then ghosted because my dad told him to.”

Spencer’s mouth opened slightly. “That’s what this is about?”

“This is about everything,” you hissed. “You left me. He punished me. And now you’re back out there playing golden boy while I rot in fucking cold case hell and try to keep up with a double course load while my body’s falling apart—”

He grabbed your wrist.

“Look at me,” he said, voice softer now. “You don’t have to do this.”

Your eyes flashed. “Let go of me.”

“Not until you tell me what the hell’s going on with you. Because you’re not the girl I knew. And if this—” he motioned to the pills “—is how you’re coping, then I’m not letting it go.”

“I’m not yours anymore,” you snapped. “You made that very clear.”

“You’re taking someone else’s amphetamines,” he said flatly. “Do you have any idea—”

“I said drop it.”

His voice was low now. Dangerous. “How long?”

You didn’t answer.

He stepped forward, jaw tight, voice clenched like a fist. “How long have you been using?”

You glared at him. “I don’t owe you anything.”

He scoffed, eyes dark. “Bullshit. You owe me everything. I got thrown into that meeting with Strauss for you. I got suspended. I defended you. I loved you—”

“Oh, spare me,” you snapped. “You loved the idea of me. Until my dad gave the word and you folded like a fucking lawn chair.”

You avoided his eyes. Your heart was beating too fast. Every sound, every light felt sharp.

“How long?” He repeated, stepping closer, voice trembling with fury.

“Stop it, Spencer,” you muttered. “Just stop. You don’t get to care.”

His jaw locked, breath shallow. “Are you high right now?”

“No,” you lied. “I haven’t even taken one today.”

“Jesus Christ.” He raked a hand through his hair, stepping back like he couldn’t look at you without catching fire. “You’re lying to my face.”

“I’m still going to that party,” you say, voice breaking.

Spencer’s face twitched. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” You tilted your head. “Do what I want for once?”

“You’re high, you’re spiraling, and you’re trying to push me away so you don’t have to feel what you’re actually feeling.”

“No.” You stepped up to him, chest brushing his. “I’m trying to get to a fucking party. You remember what it’s like to have friends, don’t you?”

You grab your bag, shove past him, before pressing the elevator button as the doors ding open you say one last thing, “Don’t follow me, Dr. Reid.”

You’d managed to reapply your gloss with shaking hands in the car, snort a line in the driveway, and flirt your way through the front door of Kappa Psi like everything was fine.

But it wasn’t.

You were spiraling.

Even worse, you knew it—and you didn’t care.

Frat lights flickered in and out of focus. Someone shoved a Solo cup in your hand. You couldn’t remember who. You drank it anyway. Another pill got pressed into your palm. It wasn’t the usual blue you trusted. It was pink. Oval. Something you didn’t recognize.

You took it anyway.

Fifteen minutes later you were in an alley behind the frat house, curled into yourself with your back against the cold brick wall and your phone shaking in your hand. Everything was spinning—lights bleeding into your eyes, stomach turning over like it was trying to reject your entire existence.

You tried to dial someone else first—your roommate maybe? You weren’t even sure. You misdialed. Twice.

Then, like muscle memory, your thumb hovered over his name. Spencer Reid.

It rang once. Twice.

He picked up immediately.

“Hello?”

You couldn’t speak. Not at first. You were crying, but you couldn’t feel the tears. Your teeth chattered as you opened your mouth and tried to say his name, but it came out broken.

“Hey—hey, slow down.” Spencer’s voice was tight, urgent. “Where are you? What’s happening?”

You could hear him moving, grabbing keys, door slamming.

“S’cold,” you slurred, chest hiccuping. “I—I think I messed up, Spence—”

“You’re okay,” he said, voice shaking now. “But I need you to tell me what you took. Did you take something new? What was it?”

“I don’t know—somebody gave it to me—said it was fine—I didn’t know, I didn’t—”

You dropped the phone. It clattered onto the pavement as you leaned forward and threw up violently, hands scraping at the rough ground. You coughed, heaved, vision swimming.

He was already in the car, his phone running the trace Garcia had sent to him—last known ping, three blocks behind Sigma Chi, the back side of the fraternity garage cluster that faced the woods.

He didn’t breathe right the whole ride.

Didn’t think—because if he thought, he’d see the worst: you unconscious in a gutter, your pulse weak, a toxicology report that ended careers and broke your father’s soul.

He skidded to a stop when he reached the alley.

His headlights caught the outline of a slumped figure just beyond the garage.

You.

You were collapsed on your side, your dress riding high on your thigh, knees scraped from falling, your arms braced against the concrete as you tried—and failed—to keep yourself from heaving again.

“Jesus,” he whispered, throwing the car into park and sprinting.

“Hey—hey, I’m here,” he said, hand trembling as it swept your hair from your face. “You’re okay. You’re going to be okay.”

Your head lolled toward the sound of him, tears shining down your cheeks.

“S-Spence,” you croaked, voice raw. “Wasn’t mine. It was… pink. M’stupid. M’sorry—””

“Shh.” His hand cupped your cheek, feeling your skin clammy, your pulse fluttering in your neck like a dying bird. “No apologies. Just breathe for me.”

You gagged again, body trembling with the withdrawal crash—your nervous system overloaded from the Adderall, the Valium trying to slow it, whatever the hell someone slipped into your cup pulling the strings in every wrong direction.

Spencer steadied your shoulders as you retched, rubbing your back with long, slow strokes with one hand while fumbling for his phone with the other.

“I need a bus to west block 3200,” he said into the speaker. “Twenty-two-year-old female. Drug interaction. Unclear substance. Not stable. Yes—I’ll keep her conscious.”

Your fingers clutched his jacket like a lifeline. He swore under his breath as he looked at you—your dilated pupils, your dry lips, your too-quiet whimpers.

“What the hell are you doing to yourself?” he whispered into your hair. “Why didn’t you tell me it was this bad?”

The ambulance showed up fast, too fast for Spencer to process what it meant—how serious this was, how you could’ve died if he hadn’t picked up, if you hadn’t called him at all. They got you on a stretcher with practiced ease, medics asking rapid-fire questions he barely heard over the roaring in his ears.

What did she take?

How much?

How long ago?

As they lifted you into the back of the ambulance, your hand briefly caught his wrist, weak and cold.

“Don’t leave,” you murmured, barely audible.

“I’m not,” he said, climbing in beside you. “I’ve got you.”

He held your hand the entire ride to Dale City Hospital.

And then, when the doors opened, reality came rushing in—gurney wheels rattling across linoleum, beeping machines, harsh fluorescents. Nurses asking for your name, your ID, your emergency contact.

Spencer swallowed hard.

Hotch.

He stepped into the quietest corner he could find and pulled out his phone. His fingers hovered, then pressed call.

Hotch answered on the second ring.

“Reid?”

Spencer exhaled shakily. “She’s at Dale City General. She was drugged. There was… more going on than I thought. A lot more.”

Reid could hear Hotch taking a deep breath trying to control his temper, “How bad?”

“She’s unconscious. Breathing, stable for now, but she’s—she was high on multiple substances. Some she didn’t even know she took.”

The silence on the other end was brutal. Then: “I’m on my way.”

Spencer didn’t move for a long moment after the call ended. He just stared down at the tiled floor, jaw clenched, hand still faintly shaking.

Within twenty minutes, the team was there. Hotch arrived first, face grim, then Morgan, Prentiss, and JJ trailing behind him. The sight of them hit like a cold wave. Spencer stood when he saw Hotch approach the nurses’ station, asking for your name in a voice tight with rage.

“They’re still pumping her stomach,” Spencer offered quietly. “She was in the alley behind the frat garages. It looked like she took ecstasy, probably some downers, and she’s still detoxing off amphetamines. Maybe benzos too. She’s been… hiding it.”

Hotch’s jaw ticked. “Where are her things?”

Spencer blinked. “They… they brought it in with her.”

Hotch was already walking toward the nurses' station.

JJ reached for his arm. “Aaron—”

He didn’t stop. “I need my daughter’s belongings. Her name’s on the record.”

The nurse looked at him warily, but one look at his badge—SSA Hotchner—was all it took. She returned with a large clear plastic evidence-style bag.

He took it without a word and moved to the side, his team trailing behind. He unzipped it.

Silence.

Inside: a tangle of makeup, loose change, a cracked phone.

And the pills.

Not bottles. Baggies. Not just Adderall. Coke. Valium. A pressed pill that looked like MDMA. Xanax bars. Something in blister packs without a label.

Morgan’s jaw locked. “Jesus.”

Hotch’s fingers closed around the baggies like they might shatter in his grip.

“You’ve gotta stay calm,” Morgan said gently, stepping in. “She’s not going to get better if you lose it now.”

Hotch’s voice was razor-edged. “She’s twenty-two.”

“I know.”

“She could’ve died.”

“I know.”

He turned to Spencer, eyes dark. “Did you know?”

Spencer’s face was raw. “Not like this. I—I found one prescription bottle earlier tonight. I confronted her. She lied. I followed her to the party—she called me crying from an alley and I couldn’t even understand her.”

Hotch stared at him, rage and heartbreak flashing in his eyes. “So you knew. You knew, and you let her walk away.”

“I tried to stop her.”

“You should’ve called me then.”

“I didn’t think she’d—” Spencer caught himself. “I’m sorry.”

Hotch shook his head slowly, mouth set in a grim line. Spencer opened his mouth. Closed it. “I didn’t know it was this bad. I—I knew she was struggling, but I thought it was just the Adderall.”

Hotch’s voice dropped, low and furious. “You thought.”

“She lied to me too, Aaron,” Spencer snapped back. “I found a prescription bottle tonight that wasn’t hers and tried to stop her from going out, but she wouldn’t listen. She ran.”

“She ran because she’s scared,” JJ said gently, stepping between them. “Because everything in her life feels like it’s falling apart. And I know you’re angry, Hotch, but—”

Hotch said nothing more. He sat down in the waiting room chair, your bag of evidence still in his hands, like he couldn’t let go of it until you answered for it.

When you woke up, the first thing you noticed was how dry your throat felt—raw, stripped of moisture. You blinked into harsh hospital light, trying to orient yourself. Your tongue felt thick. Your stomach roiled.

And then, like a curtain pulling back, you saw him.

Your dad.

In the chair beside the bed, elbows on knees, his expression unreadable.

You groaned, immediately dragging the blanket over your head.

“Fuck.”

“Save it,” he said. His voice didn’t rise. That somehow made it worse.

You swallowed hard. Your hands trembled in your lap.

“I don’t remember much,” you rasped.

“That’s the problem.”

Silence.

You peeked at him through your lashes. “Are you mad?”

“No,” Hotch said tightly. “I’m furious.”

You squeezed your eyes shut. “Where’s my bag?”

He didn’t answer.

That was your answer.

Your stomach dropped like a stone.

“Oh my god.”

He stood and slowly approached the bed, pulling something from the chair behind him.

The clear bag.

The pills.

You turned your face away in shame.

“Do you want to explain this?” he asked, holding it up.

“No.”

“You’re going to,” he said. “You’re going to explain all of it. Why I had to get a call from Reid in the middle of the night saying you were unconscious behind a goddamn frat house. Why I had to watch a nurse hand me a bag full of narcotics with my daughter’s name on it.”

You didn’t look at him. You couldn’t.

“I didn’t mean to.”

“You didn’t mean to?”

“I didn’t know what it was—”

“But the rest of it? The coke? The benzos? The Adderall that isn’t even prescribed to you?” He held the bag tighter. “You didn’t ‘mean’ that either?”

You bit the inside of your cheek until you tasted blood.

Hotch stepped closer. “You could’ve died.”

“I know.”

“No. I don’t think you do. You have no idea what that would’ve done to me. To Jack. To Spencer.”

He stared down at you, jaw flexing. “You’re going to get help. You don’t have a choice.”

You swallowed hard, blinking back fresh tears. “And if I say no?”

He didn’t blink. “Then you don’t go back to school. You don’t go back to Quantico. You don’t go anywhere but rehab. Understood?”

You didn’t answer.

He dropped the bag back onto the tray with a hard thud and walked to the door.

“You’re lucky to be alive.”

The door clicked shut behind him.

And you lay there, eyes burning, heart hammering against your ribs, alone in the silence of your consequences. And from knowing that maybe this time… you went too far.

a/n: I’m in therapy y’all this is just how I cope plz don’t b alarmed😭

⋆•★⋆ MASTERLIST ⋆★•⋆

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 54: The Farm

Summary: You adjust to your life on the MacTavish farm and learn some surprising things about yourself.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 8,237 words

Warnings: Alpha/beta/omega dynamics, A/B/O, alternate universe, angst, emotions, fluff, animals, you might fall in love with a fictional dog, slight language.

A/N: I love this chapter and I hope you will too!

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

You’re trying to fight the tears as they sting your eyes, desperately trying to stop them from falling as you walk back towards the house. Lily steps aside, letting you enter before closing the door behind you.

“Aw, hen.” She coos, rubbing your back. “It’s okay tae cry.”

You can’t stop them. They would have fallen without the permission, but being allowed to cry only makes them fall faster. Lily wraps her arms around you, pulling you tight against her chest. Her hand strokes your hair as she coos softly at you, rocking you back and forth gently.

“Saying goodbye is always hard.” She says softly. “I damn near cry a river when Johnny-boy leaves. It’s hard when ye don’t know how long it’ll be until ye see them again. I’m sure ye know that well.”

“Yeah.” You sniffle. You don’t know when you’ll see Johnny or Simon again. If you’ll see them again. You shove that thought aside into the deep recesses of your mind. You have enough to cry about, you’re not going to entertain those kinds of thoughts right now.

Lily kisses the top of your head before pulling back, wiping your tears with her shirt sleeve. “There we go.” You sniffle, trying to stop the flood sliding down your cheeks. There’s a wet spot on her shirt, but she doesn’t seem to even notice. She gives you a soft smile, holding your face in her hands. “Ye remind me of my youngest girl. So sweet and soft and polite. All beta. Quite the opposite of the rest of her siblings. She’s in medical school now training tae be an omega specialist.”

A small smile tugs at your lips. It makes you think of Dr. Keller and how she’s doing with her new job, how things are going with Ashley. Maybe you’ll ask John if he knows when you see him again.

“I’m sure she’ll be great at it.” You say. “Takes a lot of patience to work with omegas sometimes.”

You think about how much patience Dr. Keller had for you at the beginning, while she worked on helping you through your trauma and unlearning what the institute taught you. It had taken a long time, but you’re here today because of her and everything she did for you.

“I had an omega specialist on base for a while.” You say. “I owe a lot to her for getting me through those first few months.”

“I’m so glad ye had someone tae support ye.” Lily says, petting your hair. The tears have slowed to almost none. “I’m sure it was a great help.”

“I don’t know if I would have made it without her.” You say quietly.

“I think you could have. There’s a strength to ye. A quiet strength. I can see it.” Lily says, squeezing you against her chest one more time. “Ye’d have tae have it putting up with those boys.”

You giggle, hugging her back for a moment before she releases you.

“Come on,” She says, patting your head. “I have someone I want ye tae meet.”

You tilt your head as she moves into the house, heading for the back door. You follow, unsure who else you have to meet besides maybe the sheep.

“Here,” She says, pulling out a pair of boots. “These should work until we can get ye a proper pair of Wellies in town.”

“You don’t have to do that.” You say, toeing out of your tennis shoes.

“Course we do.” She says, slipping on her own boots. Storm stands at the door, ready to run out as soon as its open. “Ye need a pair anyway.”

You don’t argue, following her out the door.

The back yard is spacious, a garden set up in one corner, and a veranda in the other with a barbecue. You can imagine sitting out there in the summer, eating a hot dog and watching the sun set over the green hills. Storm races around the yard, tail wagging, all excited.

“Still young at heart.” Lily says as she walks down the path towards the gate. There’s a barn off to the right in the distance, a dirt road leading between the pastures.

You can see why she insisted on the boots now as the ground gets muddy beyond the gate.

“Murray is over the hill with the sheep.” She says, pointing off to the right where a hill rises. “Spends most of his day out there.” She opens a gate to the left, passing through before holding it open for you. “I like to spend my time in here.”

Your boots squelch as you walk through the muddy grass towards a smaller barn.

“Ye ever lived on a farm before?” Lily asks as you approach what looks like a chicken coop.

“No,” you answer. “We always lived close to the base my dad was stationed at. We moved around too much to have animals.”

“He was in the service?” She asks.

You nod. “Marines. It was his entire personality.”

She chuckles. “Usually is.” She pauses in front of the coop. “These are my girls. I let them out early and collect eggs.”

There’s ten chickens that you can count roving around the coop. It’s decent sized, bigger than you would have imagined.

“I leave them in there so the hawks don’t get ‘em.” She says. “Now, who I wanted ye to meet,” She continues towards the barn, the grass getting more and more solid as you go.

You walk up a small hill to the barn, something standing beside it. Something large and brown.

“This here is my coo, Mabel.” Lily says, walking right up to the cow.

You nearly die of cuteness on the spot. Mabel is a highland cow, all thick hair and horns and perhaps the cutest cow you’ve ever seen.

“Ye can get close. She’s very sweet.” Lily says, patting Mabel on the side.

You step up to her, holding out a hand. “Hello Mabel.” You say, Mabel nosing at your hand for a moment. You pet her nose, feeling the coarse, thick hair draped over her face.

“She’s due for a haircut.” Lily says, brushing some of the hair to the side so Mabel can see better. “And she’ll start sheddin’ soon.”

“I love her.” You say, scratching Mabel between the horns.

“Yer welcome tae come out here whenever you’d like.” Lily says. “Mabel comes and goes out of her barn as she pleases. She’s good for some cuddles when you need some love.” Lily grins at you. “She’s a great listener too.”

You smile, continuing to pet Mabel.

You might just like living on a farm after all.

You had stayed with Mabel even after Lily had gone into the house to start on dinner. It wasn’t even lunch yet, but still she insisted on starting early for a proper Sunday roast. Lily had been right about Mabel being a good listener. She hadn’t minded you hugging her, leaning your weight against her body, petting her hair as you told her all of your woes and fears. Storm had stayed in the field with you, running around before settling in the grass with a stick.

Storm followed you back to the house around lunchtime, when you’d left Mabel with a pat and a promise to come back tomorrow. She hadn’t given much of a response, but somehow deep down you knew she understood.

“Will ye wipe her feet with the towel, hen?” Lily called from the kitchen when you entered with Storm.

“Yeah,” You say, spotting the towel hanging near the door. Storm stands dutifully, letting you wipe most of the mud off of her feet. She licks your face before heading for the kitchen, abandoning you for the prospect of food. You don’t mind. Your stomach is growling too.

“How many sandwiches would ye like, hen?” Lily asks, bringing a platter of chips and vegetables to the table.

“Just one.” You answer. She gives you a sideways glance. “I could probably eat two though.”

She smiles. “Two it is then. I won’t have ye going hungry here.”

You don’t doubt she means that.

“Murray’ll be in, in a bit.” She says, setting a plate of two sandwiches in front of you before taking the seat across from you. “He can make his own.”

“I could make my own too.” You suggest quietly.

“Nonsense.” Lily says, waving away the idea. “Yer a guest. I’m more’n happy tae feed ye.”

“Thank you, for doing all of this.” You say, taking a bite of your sandwich.

“Of course,” She says, grabbing a carrot off the platter. “John said ye were havin’ trouble bein’ on base. I wasnae gonna let ye live somewhere ye weren’t comfortable. Besides, I’ve been excited tae meet ye, get tae know ye.”

“I’ve been wanting to meet their families too.” You say. “I’ve met Kyle’s sister but that was it before now.”

“Aye, those Garricks are something special.” She says.

“They really are.” You grin. “Like perfect angels.”

“Indeed.” She says.

Silence falls over the table as you eat, Storm sitting by your side on the floor, staring longingly at your food. You’re tempted to ‘accidentally’ drop a piece but you’re not sure if that’ll be allowed so instead you try and look away, ignoring those big puppy eyes staring into your soul.

Murray comes in right before you finish eating, toeing off his boots at the door. His pants are splattered with mud, as is his shirt as he pulls off his jacket.

“Yers are in the kitchen.” Lily says, finishing off her own sandwich.

“Thank ye, love.” He kisses Lily’s cheek before heading into the kitchen.

“I hear ye like tae read.” Lily says, turning back to you.

You nod. “Yeah, I do.”

“Well help yerself to any of the books on the shelves. The kids have some books in their rooms too. Yer more’n welcome tae browse those too.” She says, standing from the table. She takes your plate, heading to the kitchen as Murray comes out with his own plate of sandwiches.

“Did ye have a good mornin’?” He asks, taking his seat at the head of the table.

You nod. “I got to see the chickens and met Mabel.”

“Good.” He smiles. “Mabel’s a sweet old girl.”

“She is. I’ve never been around animals, outside of a few petting zoos.” You say. “But I already like Mabel a lot.”

“Aye, we’ll turn ye into a farm girl in no time.” Murray grins. “Ye can see the sheep when I bring ‘em in later too.”

“I’d like that.” You say.

After lunch you settle into the couch with a book pulled off one of the many shelves in the room. Storm has joined you, curling up beside you with her head in your lap.

“That dog really likes ye.” Lily says as she joins you, pulling out her knitting.

You smile, petting Storm’s head. “I’m not sure why.”

“Dogs are good judges of character.” She says. “She senses something in ye.”

You scratch behind Storm’s ears as silence falls over the room again and you return to reading your book. You wonder if it’s really true, if Storm can sense something about you that’s drawing her in. Whatever it is, you’re glad she likes you. It could be the opposite, you suppose. She could dislike you. You wonder what that would say about your character if that were the case.

Regardless, you’re growing to find her presence comforting. The entire house is comforting, despite the turmoil you still feel inside. The farm is a good distraction, but in these moments of silence you know you’re going to struggle the most. These moments where you have to be present, you have to face down the truth that you’re hundreds of miles from your pack and there’s still a couple weeks before you’ll see them again...before you’ll see John again. It’ll be just you and John for a while. Then Kyle will join you. Then you’ll be three separated from the two others.

It breaks your heart that they won’t retire, but you’d never admit that.

Maybe someday they’ll make that decision, but you know it won’t be anytime soon.

You shift on the couch, Storm lifting her head before settling back down, adjusting herself so she’s even closer to you than she was before, almost as if she can sense the shift in your emotions.

You scan the photos on the wall in the hallway. You’ve been roving around waiting for dinner to be ready, taking in all of the artwork and the many photos decorating the walls. Photos of Johnny and his siblings as kids, family portraits, artistic shots of the farm and the animals and the kids with them. You’ve even found a framed photo of Storm and Bron on the wall.

You pass by a shadow box decorated with military medals and stripes. You’d almost assume it was Johnny’s but you know he’ll still wear his when the occasion requires. No, these are Murray’s. Chief Petty Officer MacTavish.

“You served?” You ask as the man himself rounds the corner.

He pauses, glancing at the box before nodding. “Aye. Royal Navy. Joined as soon as I graduated. Didnae know what else tae do with myself. I was forced to retire when Johnny was still a lad. Hip injury.” He smiles as he stares at the medals. “Moved the family out here, bought a few sheep, rest is history.”

“You must be proud of Johnny then.” You say. You can piece together that his father’s history with the armed forces played a role in his own decision to join.

“Aye. Though his job scares the piss out of me sometimes.” He pats your back. “I hear your own father served.”

You nod as the two of you walk down the hall. “Marines.” You say. “I can’t imagine him doing anything else. He was...very patriotic. Spent a lot of time preaching the necessity of giving our lives to protect the country to us kids. Two of my three older brothers joined too. The rest of us went on to do other things. I never thought I’d be back in it, though.”

“That must have been a shock.” Lily says as the two of you arrive at the table. She’s setting a pan of roast beef on the table. “I can only imagine what it was like tae leave that world only to be right back in it.”

“I was in deeper than I was with my dad.” You say, taking your seat. “It was an adjustment, but I’ll honestly say I’m glad I’m getting to leave it behind.”

“I don’t blame ye one bit.” She says, taking a seat at the table. “The stress is unimaginable, even when they’re not goin’ off tae war.” She passes a glance at Murray. “I’m glad yer gettin’ this chance.”

“Aye, I’m proud of John fer retiring. It’s time he settled down.” Murray says, staring to load his plate.

Roast beef, mashed potatoes, vegetables, yorkshire pudding. A proper Sunday roast, or so you’re told.

“You know him well?” You ask curiously as you start to load your own plate.

“Aye, he’s been here a few times since Johnny joined his pack.” Murray says.

“We were skeptical at first, but he proved himself alright.” Lily says. “He’s a good alpha, and a good man.”

“But whatever magic ye worked tae get him to retire…” Murray grins. “Consider it an act of god.”

You smile bashfully, your face warming just a bit. “I’m not sure what I did exactly, besides just existing in his life.”

“Sometimes that’s all a man needs.” Lily says, giving you a smile.

The Sunday roast is delicious. It’s better than what you ate at restaurants in town during the weekends that John insisted everyone go out for Sunday dinner. It’s even better than your own attempts at the cottage, though you’d never tell Dr. Keller that.

You’ll have to get some recipes from Lily before you leave.

After dinner the three of you settle in the living room again, Murray turning on the TV. Storm lays at your feet, Bron laying between you and Murray. You’ve got a beer in your hand, cold where it rests against your leg. Murray hadn’t even asked, instead passing one to you silently. You’d taken it, knowing it would be rude to refuse. It’s not your first time drinking by far. You and your brothers used to sneak sips here and there during barbecues and holidays, and the guys have made sure to corrupt you in that way.

Still, the alcohol makes you feel warm as you drink it, chasing away the nerves that nightfall brings.

A lot of things can happen at night, and you can feel the looming darkness outside. It’s darker here than on base, no light pollution to offer some respite from the inky blackness outside.

You’ve been avoiding looking at the windows, even with the curtains closed.

Despite the nagging fear at the back of your brain, the beer makes you feel warm and fuzzy. That, and Storm’s comforting presence against your feet. It’s nice knowing there’s someone that will sense something off before even you can.

It’s late by the time you decide to call it a night. Storm follows you to your room, standing in the doorway as you pull clothes out of your bag.

“C’mon Stormy.” Lily says, patting her back. “Goodnight, hen.”

“Goodnight.” You call, watching Storm hesitate before heading down the hallway with Lily.

You get ready for bed before turning out the light, crawling under the covers. You can still smell a bit of Johnny on the pillow and blankets. You breathe in his spicy, citrusy scent. It blends with the earthy scent of John on your shirt, offering up a comforting cocktail of your boys. You wish they were there still in person, but you’ll take their scents.

You wonder how long it will be until they fade away. You doubt they’ll last the entire time you’re here.

You grab your phone from the nightstand, pulling up John’s number. He had texted you earlier letting you know they made it safe, but you need to hear his voice. You listen to it ring, holding your breath. It’s late, and you half expect him to be in bed already. He has an early morning tomorrow, unless he decides to skip working out...you doubt he’ll do that though, now that he doesn’t have you to worry about.

“Hello, sweetheart.” His voice is rough, tired sounding.

“Hi,” you greet him quietly quietly, letting out a breath. “Did I wake you?”

“No,” There’s rustling on the other side of the line. “I was laying awake.”

“Same.” you say, pulling the covers up around you.

“How are things going up there?” He asks.

“Good.” you answer honestly. “I met a cow today.”

“Did you?” he chuckles. “How did that go?”

“Good. I really like her. She’s a good listener.” you listen to his chuckle on the other end. “Storm has also really taken to me.”

“Good,” he says, and you can hear the smile in his voice. “Lily and Murray treating you alright?”

“Yeah,” you say, rolling onto your side. “They’re amazing. Lily’s a really good cook. Makes me feel sorry for you that you’re going to have to eat my cooking.”

“Your cooking isn’t that bad.” He says. “I survived on it at the cottage.”

“Yeah but that was only a couple times. I can make like three things confidently.”

“Then we’ll learn together. We’ll only have to survive until Kyle’s paperwork is approved. Then he can cook. It’ll be good for him, having something to do.”

What are you going to do? You want to ask it but you’re not sure how well that will go over. What is he going to do once he’s retired? Maybe you can convince him to start a farm. It would be good for him to have some physical work to do every day. He’s used to never having a day off, and you don’t get days off on a farm.

You’ll worry about that later, when the time actually comes.

“How are things down there?” You ask. “How are the boys.”

“Coping.” He says. “Johnny pouted the entire way home. It’s not the same being just us again. We got so used to your presence it feels empty.”

A small smile forms on your lips. “It feels weird not having you here with me. I’m not sure I can survive.”

“I think we can make it.” He says. “It’s only for a couple weeks at most. By the end you’ll be sad to leave.”

“I do like it here.” You muse. “It’s cozy and comfortable and I like having animals around. Wish you were here though.”

“Soon.” He says, muffling a yawn.

“You should get some sleep. Early morning tomorrow, right?”

He hums. “Earlier than I’d like.”

“Ready to retire?” You ask.

“I can feel it coming.” He says, and you can hear the smile in his voice. “You should get some rest too. I know you didn’t sleep well last night.”

You likely won’t sleep well tonight either, but you won’t tell him that. You don’t want him to worry more than he already is. “I never sleep well the first night in a new place.”

He hums again. “Goodnight, love.”

“Goodnight, John.” You say quietly, holding the phone to your ear until he ends the call.

You stare at the screen for a moment before setting your phone on the nightstand once more. You feel more comfortable now after hearing John’s voice. It’s soothed some of the nerves churning in your stomach. He’s just a phone call away, and soon he’ll be back within reach. Just a couple weeks at most. You should be able to survive that.

You hope you will.

You do manage to sleep.

There’s light coming through the curtains when you wake, and you can hear the faint clacking of dishes down the hall. You squint blearily at your phone. It’s past nine. You’ve slept in later than you meant to. They’re early risers, being on a farm and all. You realized that yesterday when you heard them moving around before dawn.

Here you’ve gone and slept in.

You get up, changing clothes before heading to the bathroom.

Lily’s in the kitchen when you get up, still a bit bleary from a rough night’s sleep.

“Morning, hen.” She says, turning from the dishes when she hears you patter in.

“Sorry, I slept in.” You say, rubbing your eyes.

“None of that now, yer a guest. Ye can sleep in as late as ye’d like.” She says, waving her hand. “I’ve saved some breakfast for ye. Let me heat it up.”

“You don’t have to do that.” You say.

“Of course I do. I want to.” She says, pushing you out of the kitchen. “Juice or coffee?”

“Juice is fine.” You say, taking a seat at the table. Storm comes over to you, pawing at your hand. You give her some pets, scratching behind her ear.

“Here ye are.” Lily says, bringing you a plate loaded with eggs and sausage and toast. She sets it down in front of you along with a glass of orange juice. It’s probably freshly squeezed.

“Thank you. It looks delicious.” You say, picking up your fork.

It tastes delicious too. You never knew a simple eggs and sausage and toast could taste so good. Lily must work magic in the kitchen. That can be the only explanation for how wonderful she can make even the simplest food taste.

You slip on your borrowed boots after you finish eating, following Lily out into the yard again. Storm trots along beside you, tongue hanging out in excitement.

“Ye ever driven an ATV before?” Lily asks you, and you notice one parked next to the gate just past the fence. You hadn’t noticed it yesterday.

You shake your head. “No.”

She pats your shoulder. “I’ll teach ye soon. I’m gonnae go grab some hay from the barn for Mabel. Ye go on ahead and start givin’ her a good brushin’.”

Lily opens the gate to the pasture where the barn sits before climbing on the ATV. You open the other gate to Mabel’s pasture, Storm running through as soon as its open. You leave it open, passing the chickens on your hike up the small hill to where Mabel stands, looking like she has no care in the world.

Her brush hangs in her small barn and you grab it off the wall. Her hair is thick and coarse, the brush catching on a few tangles. You’re careful not to pull too hard, working the knots out gently.

Lily arrives on the ATV, towing a small trailer behind it stacked with bales of hay.

“Come and help me unload this, hen.” She says, climbing off the ATV.

You shove the brush into your back pocket, treading through the grass to the stack of hay bales. Lily tosses you a pair of gloves, something you’re grateful for as soon as you put your hands on the hay. It pokes at you, a few pieces even sticking you through the gloves.

It’s also heavy.

Your arms shake as you lift one of the bales, just managing to get it up off the stack. You heft it the few feet to the barn, stacking it on top of the others. Lily lifts the next bale, making it seem almost easy.

“They’re heavy.” You say, letting out a breath as you return to grab the next one.

“Aye.” Lily says with a grin. “We’ve got tae get yer muscles built up. Turn ye into a proper farm girl in no time.”

You’re out of breath by the time the last bale has been stacked, a few small scratches on your arms where you’d pushed up the sleeves of your sweatshirt to avoid getting hay in the fabric. Somehow you’ve still managed, feeling the small pokes even through your jeans.

“Keep workin’ on Mabel, I’m gonnae take the trailer back.” Lily says.

Your arms feel like jelly as you grab the brush out of your pocket again, returning to brushing Mabel’s back. You knew you were out of shape compared to what you once were, but you think even if you weren’t that would have been a struggle. Farm work is hard and you’ve barely had a taste of it. It speaks volumes of just how strong Johnny’s parents are that they can do this every day.

Lily returns, walking up the hill to where you are. “We refill her ‘bout once a week.” She says, patting Mabel’s nose. “Can’t keep all of it here, or she’ll eat it all.”

You grin, Mabel’s head tilting as you brush a spot on the side of her neck. You’re getting covered in cow hair, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

“She’ll be sheddin’ her winter coat soon.” Lily says running her fingers through Mabel’s hair, picking out a few chunks. “Things get very hairy up here.”

You laugh, brushing under Mabel’s chin as she tilts her head up for you. “I can imagine.”

“I’m gonnae go find Murray, ye stay out here as long as ye like.” She says, patting your shoulder before heading back down to the ATV.

Storm stays in the pasture with you again, happily laying in the grass while you finish up brushing Mabel.

You lean against her side, resting your head on her back. “We’ll be okay, right?” You ask, not expecting an answer, and you don’t get one aside from a loud cluck from a chicken.

You head back into the house, Storm following you. You toe off your boots at the door, wiping down Storm’s feet before heading into the living room. You pick up the book you had been reading from the coffee table, settling on the couch. Storm jumps up beside you, sitting there staring expectantly.

You stare back, tilting your head. “What?”

She puts a paw on your leg, sniffing your cheek.

“Oh alright.” You put your book to the side before scratching her neck. She leans into you, licking your arm as you scratch her. “You’re so soft.” You say, hugging her against your chest as you scratch down her back. “Must have gotten a bath recently, huh?”

You kiss her head before releasing her, going back to your book. She curls up next to you, leaning against your leg. You drop a hand to rest against her back, feeling her comforting warmth against you.

The days go by and you settle into a bit of a routine on the farm. You start to wake up earlier and earlier, adjusting to hearing Lily and Murray up and moving around early in the morning. You’re still not sleeping well, but you are managing to get some sleep at night.

John’s called every day, wanting to know how you’re doing, how you’re settling in. It gets easier and easier to tell him you’re doing alright, as you start to believe it. But no matter how comfortable you get in Lily and Murray’s home, there’s still a deep ache in your chest, a yearning for your pack, for your alpha.

You thought it might be weird being around an unknown alpha, but Murray has been careful to keep himself from being overbearing and overwhelming. Sometimes you forget he’s an alpha, but his strong scent reminds you every time you smell it. He’s not like any alpha you’ve been around before, but then again, you think he has Lily to thank for that.

You don’t know many alphas that chose to take beta mates over omegas. It was so unheard of in your circle of friends and family friends growing up. Your father surrounded himself with like-minded alphas, traditionalists that prided themselves on scoring a prize omega who could give them pups.

You suppose John had taken a beta as his mate, but you know that dynamic is different, and it became even more complex once you were added into the picture. Maybe John would have wound up more like Murray had it just been him and Kyle in the long run.

A beta’s soothing presence is enough to calm and alpha’s instincts over time. It probably helps that he’s older, those instincts less strong now than they would have been likely just a few years ago. You know alphas calm over time, those instincts settling as they get older, as they settle down.

You wonder how long it will take John’s instincts to start settling now that he’s retiring out of a high-stress job.

You’ve taken to being on the farm and helping out more and more. Mabel has become your lifeline, your stand-in therapist. It’s a bit healing, laying against her side, telling her how much you miss your pack, how nervous you are about this new chapter in your life, how fast things seem to be moving. You’ve only been with your pack for just over a year now and already so many things have happened, so many things have changed. She may not be able to offer much in terms of conversation or advice, but it’s still comforting to have someone there who can listen and not judge.

You’ve even come to know the chickens a bit, gathering eggs a couple times when you’ve gotten up early enough to beat Lily to it. You’ve had your fingers pecked more than a few times, but you’re growing fearless around them, shoving the broody ones to the side to grab their eggs.

A week goes by before you know it, settling into the clock-like rotation of life on a farm. It’s comforting to have a schedule, to always have something to do. It reminds you of being on base, of conforming to the guys’ schedules. You prefer this kind of schedule and work, though.

Maybe you can talk John into a farm. It would be good for him, help him settle into civilian life where you don’t have someone telling you what to do...or where you’re not the someone telling others what to do.

You wake early on Sunday, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you lay in bed for a moment. It’s early, but still you hear Lily and Murray moving around. You feel like dragging your feet this morning, but you don’t, sliding out of bed before grabbing clothes.

“Morning Stormy.” You say, greeting the dog laying at your door. She’s taken up vigil in the mornings, laying there waiting for you to get up.

You pat her head before stepping over her, heading for the bathroom. Lily had done some washing for you, despite your insistence that you could do it yourself. She was keen to do as much for you as possible. She said she misses being able to mother someone. Murray won’t let her. He’s stubborn like that.

You head for the kitchen, Lily already up with breakfast at the table.

“Mornin’ hen.” She greets you, pouring coffee into a mug. Murray is at the table as well, sipping his own cup.

“Morning.” You say, taking your seat and the offered mug. “You’re up early.”

“It’s Sunday. We’re goin’ tae Mass today.” Lily explains.

You hadn’t really thought much about it, though you should have guessed given the candles and the crucifix on the wall that they were religious. The idea of Johnny being raised Catholic is hard for you to grasp.

“Did ye go to church growin’ up?” Murray asks you as Lily sets a plate of food in front of you.

“Not really.” You say. “Mostly just Christmas and Easter.” As patriotic as your father was, he didn’t pay much mind to religion. Sundays were for beer and football and a good dinner.

“We try tae go every Sunday.” Lily says. “Though we don’t always make it.”

Like last Sunday, you think. They had been busy with helping you get settled in.

“Gives us an excuse tae go into town.” Murray says.

“We’ll do some shoppin’ while we’re there.” Lily says. “Get ye anythin’ ye might need too.”

You’re not sure what you might need. You thought you had brought enough to last you the couple weeks, though something tells you Lily is going to find something you need. She had said something about getting you a proper pair of boots. You wonder what else she might decide you need.

Church went well, although you had no idea what a Catholic Mass was like, nor what you were supposed to do, but you followed along well enough. Shopping afterward had gone as you expected. You got your new pair of boots, strawberry printed, and Lily had decided you needed a couple new pairs of jeans. It was true yours were starting to show the wear and tear of farm life, and they weren’t proper work jeans, according to her. You weren’t sure what that meant, but she hadn’t listened to your protests, buying you the pants anyway.

It was a nice, warm day so Lily had taken you out to her garden to help her set up for the spring plants she’d grow. You pulled weeds, harvested some of the last winter vegetables, dug holes, played in the dirt. It felt good doing something with your hands. It gave you purpose, something you haven’t felt in a while.

Sure, being an omega you had your purpose, but lately it had been a bit...mundane. You had been forced into the box of ‘sit there and look pretty and offer us some comfort,’ even if they hadn’t realized they were doing it. You hadn’t even really noticed it until now, until you got some space from it. Now that you were actually doing things, now that you had a true purpose, helping out on the farm, you realized just how deep you had been shoved into that box.

Maybe coming here was a good thing after all.

That night you cry for the first time. You’re not sure why. Maybe the dirt under your fingernails had awoken something in you, some deep crevasse of your emotions opening under your feet.

It’s a silent cry in the darkness, the moon bright through the curtains, bathing your room with more light than even your nightlight. You’d just hung up the call from John and suddenly tears are falling down your cheeks. You miss him. You miss them all. You’re terrified for Simon and Johnny, you’re yearning for your alpha, for your comfort. You want the bed to dip behind you, for his arms to slide around you and hold you close. You want his scent to wrap around you and permeate your being.

You’re homesick.

The magic of the first week has worn off and now you’re feeling the complex emotions that have been brewing under the surface. There’s a deep ache in your chest, harsh and painful. You curl up tight in a ball, trying to ease the pain of missing home, of missing your alpha.

You drift off into a hazy sleep, floating in and out all night until you finally manage to slip into a deep sleep for a couple of hours early in the morning.

You wake later than you would have wanted to, and for a moment you forget where you are. There’s a warm weight against your back, and for a moment you think you’re back in the barracks, that John is sleeping behind you, pressed up against your back.

But as you wake up, you remember where you are: hundreds of miles away from the barracks and John.

The sun is up, shining its golden light through your window. You turn as best you can, the heavy weight pinning the blankets down over you.

You’re met with black and white fur. Storm has somehow snuck her way into your room and curled up on the bed with you. Tears prick your eyes as you turn to face her, running a hand down her back. She lets out a sigh, shifting her body onto her side so her head rests on your pillow.

“Hi Storm.” You whisper, burying your face in her fur.

She lays there, breathing steady and even as you try not to cry, as you fight the emotions welling up inside of you again. Storm licks your hand, dragging her soft tongue against your skin, almost like she’s trying to lick up your sadness.

“Okay, okay,” You sniffle, pulling your hand away. You lay there for a moment longer, both of you still in the quiet morning. Lily must be out gathering eggs or taking care of Mabel. You don’t feel bad for sleeping in this time.

Storm climbs down off the bed as you sit up, stretching your arms over your head. You grab a change of clothes before heading for the bathroom to get ready for the day.

Storm is waiting in the hallway for you and the two of you walk together towards the kitchen. Lily is sitting at the table, reading a magazine.

“Mornin’, hen.” She greets you before looking down at Storm. “Mornin’ ye sneak. Sorry if she disturbed ye. I tried to get her back out.”

You shake your head. “She didn’t disturb me. I didn’t even know she was there.”

Lily hums, patting Storm’s head. “Ye must have needed her, then.”

Tears start to prick behind your eyes, those emotions that you thought you had shoved down starting to come back to the surface. You know Lily won’t judge you for crying, for being homesick, but still that fear of showing too many emotions starts to overwhelm you.

“It’s alright, hen.” Lily says, on her feet before you even know it, pulling you into a hug. “Homesick, huh.”

It’s not a question.

“I understand.” She says softly, patting your head as you struggle to hold those emotions down. “I would be too.”

Her hands rub your back, her scent strong in the air as she tries to help comfort you. You both know it won’t be enough, but still the thought of it is sweet. She’s doing her best to try and make this easy for you, to try and help you through the inevitable breakdown of missing your pack and your alpha. From what John has said, it won’t be long before he’s finally free of the shackles of the military. A few more days at most before he’ll be making the final drive up here to retrieve you, and you’ll move on to whatever is waiting for you on the other side.

It makes you sad to leave too, though. You’ve grown comfortable on the farm, adjusting to life here and its routine and stability. It’s kept you more active than anything, and you’re going to miss having an excuse to do more than read and sleep all day. Of course, taking care of a house will involve a lot more, but you know there’s only so much you can do even in that regard.

You want to feel useful.

You don’t cry as much as you thought you might. Your thoughts have kept you stable, ideas forming, plans putting themselves together. You lean against Lily’s chest, arms wrapped around her. You’ll be forever grateful for everything she’s done for you, even if she doesn’t realize she’s done it.

You pull away, wiping the tears from your cheeks. “Thank you.” You say.

Lily gives you a soft smile, petting your hair. “Of course, hen. Ye know I’m always here if you need a hug.”

You laugh, sniffling. “You give good hugs.”

“I’ve been told that.” She pats the top of your head. “Now, let’s get some food in ye.”

Storm sleeps in your room from then on. You’re not sure Lily could change her mind even if she tried. She’s on the bed as soon as you open the door to Johnny’s room, making herself at home. You’re silently grateful for her comforting presence, often waking cuddling her up on your pillow.

You’ve become inseparable, unless Lily is in the kitchen, then she betrays you for the prospect of any handouts. You don’t blame her one bit. You’d be in there begging too if Lily didn’t involve you as much as she has started doing. You had asked for recipes, so Lily had taken that as her excuse to start mentoring you in the kitchen, teaching you everything she knows.

You’ve been kept busy, and you’re grateful for it.

Storm follows you around as you do your chores, self-appointed chores. You fetch more hay for Mabel as she’s running low, give her a good brush to help loosen some of her shedding fur, feed the chickens and gather the eggs, pick a few of the last winter vegetables that have ripened before helping Lily make lunch.

You even get to hold a baby lamb.

You fall in love almost instantly.

Another animal to add to your list of animals to convince John to get for you.

Your last day on the farm comes with an unexpected morning phone call. Usually John called at night, but this time catches you by surprise at the breakfast table. You got up to answer, Storm following you down the hall as you speak to John.

“Hello?”

“Hello, sweetheart.” John says. “I have good news.”

You already know what he’s going to say. “Oh?”

“My paperwork was finalized this morning. I’ll be coming up tomorrow to get you.”

Nerves and excitement boil in your stomach. You’re excited that it’s finally happened, that he’s finally free and you’ll get to see him in just a few hours. At the same time you’re nervous for what this means, for this start of the new chapter. There’s also a bittersweet edge to it, from the thought of leaving the farm after the wonderful almost two weeks you’ve spent here.

“That’s great!” You say, trying to sound convincing, channeling that inner excitement.

“I’ll call before I leave so you know when to expect me.” He says, sounding almost relieved.

“Sounds good.” You say, leaning down to pet Storm as she paws at you. “I can’t wait to see you again.”

“I know. It’s been long enough.” He says. “I have to get packing, but I’ll talk to you tonight, okay?”

You nod even though he can’t see you. “Okay.”

“Love you, sweetheart.”

“Love you too.”

You walk back to the table, your stomach in knots. Excitement and nerves still race through you. You’re not quite sure what to feel yet, all of it a bit too much at once.

“Everything alright?” Murray asks.

You nod. “John’s paperwork finally went through. He’ll be here tomorrow.”

Lily cheers. “That’s wonderful news! I’m sure yer goin’ tae be happy to see him.”

You nod again. “I am. I’ve missed him.”

“I bet.” She says reaching over to pat your hand.

“But I’m going to be sad to leave too.” You say. “I’ve really enjoyed being here.”

“And we’ve enjoyed havin’ ye.” Murray says.

“Ye can always visit, whenever ye want to.” Lily says, giving you a smile. “Yer always welcome here.”

“Thank you.” You say, trying to avoid looking down at Storm and her puppy eyes. You have a feeling she’ll be the hardest to say goodbye to.

You do your chores the next morning despite the fact John will arrive in a few hours. It just feels right to spend your last day on the farm doing as much as you can, savoring your last taste of farm life. You’ll miss Mabel, and you’ll even miss the chickens despite the few little cuts on your hands from sharp beaks. You’ll miss having stuff to do. Sure, you’re going to settle into your new life easier than John will, but at the same time, you’re going to withdraw from this routine you’ve grown to follow.

You spend the time after lunch cuddling with Storm on the couch. She seems sadder than usual, almost as if she knows this is going to be goodbye for now. Even Bron is at your feet, curled in a ball as you all wait for the sound of tires on the gravel driveway. Your bags are packed and by the door, including your Wellies, ready to be taken away from this surrogate home, from your surrogate family. Well, they are your family, you suppose. An extension of your pack member.

You’re not ready to get up as the sound of tires eventually does come, Murray rising from his seat to greet John at the door. You let out a sigh, patting Storm one more time before standing.

It feels almost surreal seeing John again after nearly two weeks away. He greets you with open arms and a smile, not even waiting for anything to be said. You’re in his arms almost as fast as he opened them, pressing yourself close against his chest. You’ve been without him for longer, but this time it felt different. You were hanging over the precipice of a drastic change. His arrival has been the first step in that change, the start of a new chapter in both of your lives.

“I trust you’ve been well taken care of.” He says as you pull away.

“Very well.” You say, smiling.

“And ye better keep that up.” Lily says threateningly.

“Don’t worry, I will.” He says, giving her a hug. “Thank you for doing this.”

“It’s no problem. We’re always happy to have some company.” She says.

“Ye can visit us any time ye like.” Murray says, shaking John’s hand.

John grabs your bags, the four of you heading outside with the dogs. You hug Lily, tears falling as you say your goodbye.

“Call me.” She says, patting your back. “For anything, even just tae chat. And don’t forget to visit.”

“Thank you.” You say, wiping your cheeks. “For everything.”

“Yer welcome, hen.” She says, brushing a hand over your head.

“Thank you, too.” You say to Murray, giving him a hug as well.

“Of course.” He says, patting your back. “It was our pleasure.”

You kneel down in the gravel, giving Storm a hug. She licks your cheek, letting out a quiet whine. “I’ll see you again soon, okay?”

She gives you one last lick before you stand, giving Bron some pats before you turn away, heading towards the car. Sadness but also joy fills you as you climb into the passenger seat, buckling your seat belt. You turn to look behind you, the car full of boxes, but in the seat behind John your big bear sits, buckled in.

You smile softly as John climbs into the driver’s seat, turning to look at you before he turns on the car.

“Ready?” He asks.

You nod. “Ready.”

He turns the key, the car rumbling to life beneath you. They wave as you drive down the driveway, and you watch the house until it disappears around the bend. You turn back in your seat, letting out a sigh as John turns onto the road towards Glasgow.

“Can we get a dog? And some chickens? And a cow? And some sheep?” you ask.

John chuckles. “Let’s find a place to live, first. Then we’ll talk about that.”

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[cheeseceli]

You don't tell them you're sick

Pairing: ot8!Ateez × gn!reader (established relationships)

Genre: fluff, hurt/comfort, headcanons

Request: the reader gets sick or hurt but doesn't want to tell the boys cause they are busy or on tour and don't want them to worry or get sick too.

Warnings: They are idols, mentions of medicine and food, bits of self doubt and reader is injured/sick

A/n: blind by ateez is such a good song fr | daily click

Seonghwa

Honestly, he looks a bit disappointed

He thought you knew him better than that

After all, what did he do to give you the impression that he'd rather not be "bothered" if you ever got injured?

Makes sure to take proper care of you until your complete recover

It doesn't matter if he's preparing for a now comeback

Your well being will always come first to him

"And don't you ever forget, I'm here for you. No matter what. I want to be bothered, so bother me all you want."

Hongjoong

Very similar to Seonghwa

Except he's not necessarily disappointed

He's in denial

Like, there's no way you were sick for almost 2 weeks but didn't tell him because he was on tour

You didn't actually do it

Right?

And he can't believe he didn't notice it before, even if you made sure to hide it

Feels like he failed you a little

Makes sure to check on you all the time, overseas or not

"You know you can tell me all you're going through, right? That's what I'm here for."

Yunho

Low-key doubting himself a bit

Is he that bad of a boyfriend that you thought he wouldn't have the time to take care of you 💔

Or even worse

Did you think he wouldn't want to be there for you?

Wonders what he did to give you that impression

And he is on his way to fix it

While taking care of you!

No way you are escaping him giving you the nurse treatment

Being 100% boyfriend material just in case

"Are you feeling any better? I can go buy any remedy you might want. Or soup! Do you want soup?"

Yeosang

He did think your voice was a bit hoarse when he called you two days before

But it's not until you were sneezing nonstop today is that he caught on

You were sick

And when he asked you about it you dared to deny, even if it was so obvious you were lying

Him being on Japan doesn't mean he can't take care of you?!

Makes sure to order medicines and food to your place

Now there's no denying

"Hey, just letting you know that dinner should be there in less than 20 minutes. I ordered you your favourite :)"

San

He was surprisingly fast at discovering, even if you were trying to hide

Mostly because it's kinda hard to walk around with a sprained ankle

So even though he was tired and wanted nothing more than just sleeping after a tough day at practice

He noticed you were in pain

Don't even try to deny

Suddenly he's all energised, ready to take care of you

And he's demanding answers

Why did you hide it from him? How did you hurt yourself? For how long were you walking around like this?

Will take care of you but will also (affectionately) scold you until your ears fall off

"You should call me right away when something like this happens! You were planning on keeping it a secret or something? Wait what-"

Mingi

Honestly, you should've just told him

"But he's so stressed because of work, I don't wanna worry him"

Well, that did not work

If you had told him from the beginning, he would've probably be less worried

But now, because you said "I fell from the stairs, but I'm okay now" he thinks you're on verge of death

We know you had good intentions

But bro is STRESSING 😭

So please, next time just tell him right away lmao

"For God's sake, Y/n, don't ever do this again. Are you okay, though? For real?"

Wooyoung

Oh wow

This one is feeling like he was backstabbed

Even if you were an oscar winning actor/actress, you would NOT fool this guy

When it comes to you, he knows and noticed everything

So after making you're alright, even with the slight pain, he just keeps eyeing you

Waiting for you to tell him how'd you get hurt

But then you don't

And he's honestly a bit hurt you wouldn't rely on him even when your knees where that bruised

Proceeds to take care of you (and interrogate you), all while hoping you'll be able to understand he's there for you

All the time

"Could you put me as your emergency contact? I want to be there for you if you ever need me."

Jongho

Probably the most understanding out of the boys

He was in the other side of the world, after all

And although he'd go back to you in a heartbeat, he knew why you wouldn't want him to

So he understands your point of view

But damn

You guys called each other a few times

He would've appreciated if you had told him

He could've asked a staff to help you, he could've bought you medicine

If he could at least ask how you were feeling, he'd already feel better

So please, don't hide those things from him

"Are you sure you don't want me to go back home? I know, it's just a bit of a fever, but I don't mind going back. Just say the word."

Masterlist | you'll probably like: their s/o is overworked

Reminder this is just fiction!! I'm not trying to portray real life and you shouldn't believe that this is how the members actually are. This is just for the vibe and the delulu!

Taglist (open!): @yuyubeans @sheraayasherrecs @queenofdumbfuckery @lezleeferguson-120

Dividers by @saradika-graphics | images 1, 2 and 3

[kuronarnze]

hihii, do you take requests? if so, can i request where reader is a really good cook where we're talking gordon ramsey type of skill? (≧∇≦)

a/n: hihiii anonn !! of course I take requests! (≧∇≦)/ I LOVELOVELOVE doing requests, thank you for requesting!! Enjoyyy !

•┈┈┈••✦ ♡ ✦••┈┈┈•

Blue lock boys with a reader that is a Gordon Ramsay-Level Chef !

ft. Isagi Yoichi, Itoshi Sae, Itoshi Rin, Shidou Ryusei, Nagi Seishiro, Mikage Reo

•┈┈┈••✦ ♡ ✦••┈┈┈•

Isagi Yoichi

- At first, he underestimates your skills. Like, sure, you're a good cook—he’s had friends who can cook, right?

- Then he tastes your homemade bento. Silence. Actual silence.

- “...This is… like a five-star restaurant in a box??”

- He watches you cook with sparkles in his eyes like you're performing magic.

- Catch him secretly studying your techniques to try making you something decent in return.

- “Can you teach me how to make that sauce? No, wait—teach me everything.”

•┈┈┈••✦ ♡ ✦••┈┈┈•

Itoshi Sae

- He's hard to impress. That smug face? Unshakable.

- Until you serve him handmade pasta with black truffle oil, freshly baked focaccia, and perfectly seared wagyu.

- "…You're not normal." That’s the closest you get to a compliment.

- Now he casually texts: “Cooking tonight?” and shows up at your door uninvited.

- He’s smug but respectful. “You might actually be better than my private chefs in Spain.”

•┈┈┈••✦ ♡ ✦••┈┈┈•

Itoshi Rin

- His walls are high, but food breaks through.

- First meal you cook? He stares at you like you summoned it from heaven.

- He tries to hide how much he likes it.

- Keyword: tries.

- “Tch… I guess it’s okay.” (He finishes the entire plate and doesn’t make eye contact.)

- Secretly takes photos of your food and hides them in a locked folder labeled “Important.”

•┈┈┈••✦ ♡ ✦••┈┈┈•

Shidou Ryusei

- “Ohhh, you cook? Like real food? Not instant ramen?”

- Doesn't believe you're that good… until he takes one bite and literally moans out loud.

- “YOU’RE A GODDAMN HOT CHEF. HELLA GOOD FOOD. AND THE ONE WHO COOKED IT IS HELLA HOT TOO?? MARRY ME. FEED ME FOREVER.”

- Now follows you around like a gremlin and begs for food.

- Tries to “help” in the kitchen once. You ban him instantly after he lit a towel on fire.

•┈┈┈••✦ ♡ ✦••┈┈┈•

Nagi Seishiro

- Lazy boy is your biggest fan. He acts like he doesn't care—until he smells your cooking.

- Physically gets up on his own just to eat. That’s love.

- AND YES he actually had the will to eat a full meal.

- “Mmm… This is better than sleep.”

- He wants you to feed him like a spoiled cat. He pouts if you don’t give him bites from your hand.

- “You should open a restaurant. Or just stay here and cook for me forever. Whichever’s easier…”

•┈┈┈••✦ ♡ ✦••┈┈┈•

Mikage Reo

- He’s rich, so he’s had the finest cuisine… but your food? Instant obsession.

- “Wait, wait—did you make this from scratch? Even the bread?”

- Treats your cooking like high art. He wants to film it, photograph it, write poems about it.

- Tries to convince you to open a luxury restaurant with him as your investor.

- Spoils you in return by getting you rare ingredients and top-tier kitchen tools.

•┈┈┈••✦ ♡ ✦••┈┈┈•

TYSM FOR READINGG have a nice daayyy, plsplspls send me requests, i honestly don't have anyyy idea on what to writee.

[aakeysmash]

I just saw something about Sukuna wearing glasses and I was just thinking yeah he definitely does and its definitely like the reading glasses kind and when he needs to like at y/n or something he does that thing where he lowers his glasses😭💔 (both au’s kinda except maybe in the college au he wears like actual glasses sometimes and it's like the big frame kind) just a thought tho!

film night and glasses

college!sukuna’s masterlist

You find out one random evening.

It’s just you two because Yuuji stayed over at Megumi’s last-minute, but you already planned on having a film night today. You’re preparing snacks and he’s next to you, in charge of the drinks, grumbling about how he could be sleeping or finishing his macros for the day or literally doing anything else right now.

“Go away then. If you don’t care about the whole dorm knowing you own a pair of bubblegum pink boxers with ‘baby boy’ written on your ass, that is,” you nonchalantly shrug, not able to contain an evil smirk.

“Fuck you, bitch,” he grunts, rolling his eyes. “I already told you everything else was in the washing machine and that those were a fuckin’ gift from the team,” he adds, squinting at your head, wishing his eyes could burn flesh.

“And I already told you I don’t care. Next time don’t come out of your room not wearing anything else beside those,” you sing, walking across the living room and putting down a bowl of popcorn.

“I’m spiking your drink,” he deadpans, following you with two glasses of alcohol-free mojito (he says you’re obnoxious when drunk, so he’s ‘protecting his patience’).

You whistle. “You want me in your bed that bad, baby boy?” You say seductively, doing a come here motion with your index finger. He lifts a corner of his mouth, disgusted, then puts down your drinks near the popcorn bowl.

“Maybe I should just strangle you,” he mumbles while you turn off the lights, giggling.

“What are we watching?” He sighs, resigned, plopping down on the sofa and scooting a little bit over to make space for you.

“Can’t you see the title on the TV?” You respond, raising one eyebrow while pit-patting over to him. He grunts as an answer. You get your feet up and he automatically lifts them on his thighs, rubbing little circles on your ankles. None of you seem bothered by how easily you fall in the position.

15 minutes into the film and you see he keeps on squinting at the TV. You initially shrug it off, but he keeps on doing it for another ten minutes.

“Yo, do you need glasses?” You say, munching on your popcorns. You finish the drink while waiting for his answer. It’s good. He’d be a great barman.

“Yeah,” he says casually, not even turning around to watch you, reaching for the bowl now resting on your stomach. You choke.

“If you die, I’m taking your room,” he says, glancing over, not moving a muscle to help you. You glare at him. You keep on coughing though, so he reluctantly starts to pat your back while rolling his eyes.

“Thanks,” you croak when you get better, wiping tears from the corner of your eyes.

“I’m always saving your dumb ass anyway,” he grunts, but he doesn’t move his hand from your back for some time, and he nods at his drink, currently in his hand and under your nose, so you can drink it.

“You wear glasses?!” You exclaim, voice still rough. Meanwhile, the film is still playing in the background, but your gaze is fixed on his side profile. Flashes of colors dance on his skin, illuminating his relaxed face.

“I don’t. I should,” he shrugs, not turning around to look you in the eye. “Only when I’m tired”.

“Can I please see you with them?!” You clap, changing position and getting on your knees on the couch’s cushion. He brings the arm closer to you on the back of the couch, slowly dragging his gaze on your expectant face.

“Hell no.”

“But whyyy,” you whine. You see a corner of his mouth lifting lazily.

“Don’t want you to die when you see how hot I am with them, baby,” he winks.

You throw a pillow at his face.

[pxpecxdy]

HAPPY 200 FOLLOWERS BABE!!!! You deserve this and so so much more!!🥹🥹🥹

For your requests, ¹²⁹⁾ “you put me through so much, and still all i can think about is how i’d do it all again if you asked me to.”

With Robby please😩💕

Thank you so much babe!!! Ilysm!!! Sorry this took some time but I had to think about it! I hope you like it! Definitely not inspired by bits of our conversations

The past few days had been rough. Every time you stepped into the bathroom you saw yourself in the reflection but you no longer locked the way you remembered. It was hard to push those thoughts away. It was harder with Robby working every day and coming home exhausted each night.

Tonight was especially bad. Your baby boy slept through most of the day and night, which should have been a relief to most parents. However, you couldn't help but feel selfish in that moment. There was no one smiling, crying, or babbling keeping your attention, reminding you of the positive that was brought with your body changes.

When Robby got home, he was immediately confused with the state of your dress. Gone were the cute sexy nightgowns or his large tshirts with panties underneath. Instead he was greeted with you in what could only be described as the most modest pajamas possible. The only thing missing was a matching sleeping cap.

"What are you wearing?" He couldn't help but laugh as he pulled you in for a hug, his strong arms wrapping around you and squeezing tightly.

"Pajamas. Thought I'd wear something more age appropriate now, you don't want to see all that."

"See what? My beautiful wife?" He pulled you away from him to look you in the eyes. His hands held onto your shoulders. He noticed how you rolled your eyes at the word beautiful. He could see the insecurity taking weight in your face.

"Angel, I love you. I love everything about you. I know you don't feel the same about yourself after the baby" he paused for a moment to lean in and kiss you. "I loved you before and I love you with your body changes.

"I love how your hair has gotten curlier" Kiss. "Love your rounded face." Kiss. "Love your hips and belly" Kiss. "And I love these breasts." He said with his lips pressed against yours as his hands slid up to cup your chest.

"You put me through so much, and still all I can think about is how I'd do it all again if you asked me to, Michael." You smiled softly at him.

His eyebrows shot up. A grin spread across his face. "Do you want to try for another? We can try right now." You squealed as he picked you up with ease and carried you off to your shared bedroom

[petalbcrnes]

❀﹒﹒⇅﹒𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐃𝐀𝐘﹒∿

⤷   🥝 ﹒ the bat-boys taking care of you when you’re sick !!

　　﹕   (✿˘͈ᵕ˘͈)   ┈ #directory #rules .

　　┊   ♡   ﹒  my throat hurt this morning and all i wanted to do was curl up in small ball and sleep all day,,, but alas i have exams :⁠-⁠( i managed to write general hcs for the bat-boys today <3 i use medicine jargon here, i’m not sure it’s correct so don’t get mad at me </3 i tried to use as many sources as i could.

↦   ⟡   ∬ incl  ﹒  jason, dick, damian, tim & duke.

❛   ꜝ   ┈   ✺ cw  ﹒  sfw all the way. of course there is being sick described and also some prescriptions + meds.

𓏲𓏲⠀⠀.. ⠀You’re sick with a nasty cold that’s left you feeling miserable and exhausted. What started as a scratchy throat yesterday has turned into full-blown congestion, aches, and that foggy-headed feeling that makes even watching TV seem like too much effort. You’ve been trying to tough it out, but when your boyfriend finds out you’re unwell, he immediately springs into action. ✶

. 　 ✺ 　 ⁺ 𝐉𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐎𝐃𝐃 ︶︶

Panics internally but tries to play it cool externally. Jason’s top priority is you and your comfort. The moment he hears your sniffles and coughs a switch is flipped in his brain. Getting sick is not something to freak out about— he knows that, but he just can’t help but worry so much.

Googles your symptoms obsessively and convinces himself you’re dying three separate times. He’s surfing the web for any kind of information to make you feel better. He mjght freak himself out a little by the information he finds, but for you he tells himself to get jt together.

Shows up with comfort food from your favorite places instead of medicine. Not that he doesn’t understand the importance of taking the correct medication. He just wants you to feel comfortable while recovering.

┄　🗨️　So I got your favorite soup, some of those crackers you like, and—... okay, I may have bought out the entire bakery section because I didn’t know what you’d want.

Reads to you in his deep, soothing voice until you fall asleep. You might have mentioned how his voice helps you relax. He remembers everything you tell him so he tries to use every way to soothe you— one of them being his voice. He’ll have his hand softly caressing you to bring you comfort as well.

Hovers awkwardly because he wants to help but doesn't want to overwhelm you. He’s trying. He really is. To Jason, all of this is fairly new— the domestic feeling of making someone tea to warm them up, tucking them in bed and checking their temperature. It’s new territory in the relationship.

Makes surprisingly good tea because Alfred taught all the boys basic care skills. Even if Jason might lack skill in making more detailed and harder dishes, simple tea he can do.

He gets in contact with Alfred. Jason asks him for advice— which blend of tea should he use? Any particular medicine he should buy? Alfred indulges him. It’s all very soft.

Jason gets genuinely upset that he can’t fight your illness for you. He’s used to dealing with his problems quickly and efficiently. Now he needs patience. It’s all different with you. He cant afford to have you in any more discomfort.

┄　🗨️　I just—... I hate that you’re hurting and I can’t do anything about it. I can fight criminals but I can’t punch a virus.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　

. 　 ✺ 　 ⁺ 𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐒𝐎𝐍 ︶︶

Goes full mother hen mode and calls in sick to work immediately. Detective Grayson? Oh, he’s not available. Nightwing? He’s getting someone else to protect Blüdhaven tonight. You need him right now and he’s not leaving.

Shows up with half of CVS pharmacy because he wasn’t sure what kind of sick you were. He’s making sure he has all the medicine you need. He buys all sorts of medicinal tea blends— even though those test awful, he’s reminding you how much you need it and how it’ll help you recover.

┄　🗨️　Okay, I got DayQuil, NyQuil, regular Tylenol, extra strength Tylenol, throat lozenges, and—... wait, do you think you need a humidifier?

Attempts to make chicken soup from scratch despite never cooking anything more complex than cereal. Listen, he’s trying. Trying so hard for you.

┄　🗨️　The recipe says 'simmer gently' but I don't know what that means so I just... made it really hot? Why is it bubbling like that?

Keeps checking your temperature every twenty minutes “just to be sure.” He’s always near you, hovering over you and watching every twitch and move.

Insists on helping you move or just straight up carrying you everywhere, even just to the bathroom, because “you need to conserve energy.”

┄　🗨️　No, no, don’t get up! I’ll carry you. What if you get dizzy? What if you fall? I’m not risking it.

Puts on your favorite comfort movies but talks through all of them because he’s worried about you. He wants you to distract yourself from the sickness. At the same time his anxiety is through the roof. To calm down he talks to you.

Tucks you in so tightly you can barely move, claiming it's “maximum comfort optimization.” You’ll look like those blanket burritos after he’s done.

Texts the family group chat asking for medical advice and gets 47 different contradictory responses. Gives up and just calls Alfred or Bruce.

Falls asleep sitting up in a chair next to your bed because he refuses to leave your side.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　

. 　 ✺ 　 ⁺ 𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐀𝐍 𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄 ︶︶

Damian might be more reserved when it comes to freely showing his feelings, but in this situation he’s not afraid to show how much he cares. It all comes naturally to him— he knows every step he needs to take to make sure you are recovering.

Brings you homemade remedies that are actually surprisingly effective. He made them himself. His knowledge of medicine might surprise you a little.

┄　🗨️　This is a traditional remedy. Not only does it taste good, it is affective as well. No, you don’t get to refuse it.

Sits stiffly in a chair nearby, claiming he’s “just reading” but clearly watching you. You feel his gaze. It’s like a comforting blanket.

┄　🗨️　I’m not ‘hovering,’ I’m simply ensuring you follow proper recovery steps. There’s a difference

Alfred the cat somehow ends up curled up with you because Damian thinks pets are therapeutic. He’d let Titus join in too, but the bed’s getting a little crowded. He leaves Titus with you, trusting him to be on alert.

Makes you traditional healing teas his mother taught him about. For example: Chamomile (bābūnaj) for reducing stress and anxiety, alleviating pain and discomfort, and also improving sleep and insomnia; Cardamom (hāl) is said to help digestion and increase saliva flow. Pretty expensive as well. But only the best for you.

He makes you get-well cards but leaves them on your nightstand without saying anything. Listen, he’s showing you his affection for you in everyway. Plus, the cards are beautifully done.

Insists you follow his very specific recovery regimen because “I know what's best.” He’s well versed in this type of situation and knows how to help best.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　

. 　 ✺ 　 ⁺ 𝐓𝐈𝐌 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐊𝐄 ︶︶

Creates a detailed spreadsheet of your symptoms, medications, and recovery timeline. He has everything planned out. A little overboard, but still collected about it all.

┄　🗨️　Your fever peaked at 38.6°C at 3:47 AM but it’s down to 38.1°C now, which suggests the acetaminophen is working effectively.

Sets seventeen different alarms to remind you to take medicine, drink water, eat, etc. He understands if you feel to tired for it all, but he still reminds you the importance of it all and is right next to you everytime you take your medication.

Researches your illness so thoroughly he could write a medical paper about it. Tim is already smart. He’s even more invested in this topic because it concerns you.

┄　🗨️　So, I’ve cross-referenced your symptoms with twelve medical databases and created an optimal recovery schedule. Medicine every four hours, fluids every thirty minutes. Seems easy enough.

Brings his laptop to work from your bedside so he can monitor you constantly. He’ll work while keeping an eye on you.

Orders everything you could possibly need online for same-day delivery. He’s making sure you two have everything. Nothing is overlooked.

Makes you the perfect cup of tea/coffee because he’s memorized exactly how you like it.

Tries to stays up all night watching you sleep to make sure you’re breathing okay. He does fall asleep, of course. It’s endearing, but it worries you because he might not be getting enough sleep. He relents after you ask him to rest.

Documents everything “for future reference” in case you get sick again. He’s making sure the two of you are 100% ready to take care of eachother if any of you get sick again.

┄　🗨️　what if I miss something important? What if you get worse because I wasn’t paying attention?

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　

. 　 ✺ 　 ⁺ 𝐃𝐔𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐒 ︶︶

Brings sunshine energy to your sick day, literally and figuratively. He’s probably the most collected bat-boy in this situation alongside Damian. He’s not freaking out. He knows you need him right now.

Shows up with your favorite comfort snacks and a playlist of feel-good movies. Your comfort is number one on his list of his so called ‘very affective recovery plan.’

┄　🗨️　I brought comedies, but also some documentaries in case you want something low-key. And snacks! Lots of snacks.

Uses his light powers to create soft, warm lighting that doesn’t hurt your head. His light feels so warm and soft. It isn’t too much. It’s just the right amount.

┄　🗨️　I can adjust the lighting if it’s too bright. Perks of dating someone with light powers, right?

Tells you funny stories and jokes to keep your spirits up. Makes you laugh even when you feel terrible, which somehow makes you feel better.

┄　🗨️　You laughed! That’s the first time you've smiled all day. See? Laughter really is the best medicine.

Brings you flowers or plants because “they brighten up the room.” In reality he’s the one lighting up the room.

Checks in via text constantly when he can’t be there in person. Feels a little guilty he can’t be with you all the time. The check-ins soothe his worry abit.

Makes sure you’re getting enough vitamin D by opening all the curtains. He’s making sure you’re getting some clean air as well. There’s fresh water by your bedside table all the time.

His genuine concern and sweet nature makes being sick almost worth it. Celebrates with you when you start feeling better like you've won a major victory.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　

﹒   ♪   ┊ INBOX OPEN.⠀⠀feel free to send me asks and suggestions in my inbox. ��്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

˖ `· . 𓏵 © 𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐁𝐂𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐒 don’t use my work without my consent. ... ⏤ㅤ Ⳋ ⊹

[hischiershoe]

Friends to lovers with Quinn I beg… I luv a slow burn.. ur the best🫶

With this prompt: 04. "you sure this looks fine?" "trust me, you look fine as hell…

tysm for requesting, i hope you like it!!

no warnings! just cute awkward quinny boy

Quinn's been buying his own suits for years now. Well, sort of on his own. He always begs you to come along with him under the guise that he needs an extra pair of eyes. When you'd asked him why he didn't ask one of the guys, he was quick to brush you off with a nervous excuse about how 'their fashion taste isn't as good as yours'.

In reality, Quinn just wanted to spend time with you in any capacity that he could, and you would never turn down an opportunity to see him. Despite the two of you only ever labeling the other as friends, you both knew there was something else between you lying just beneath the surface. It wasn't a matter of if it would ever come to light, it was merely a gamble of when it would.

His suit for the NHL awards was no exception to the undeclared rule between you, and that is exactly how you ended up on an uncomfortably expensive couch waiting for him to come through the curtain in his newly tailored suit. You were tiktok mid-scroll when you heard Quinn's muffled curses from the dressing room, and you were instantly on your feet and making your way towards him.

"Quinn," You call out, not wanting to pull back the curtain in case he was indecent, "Is everything okay?"

"I can't tie this damn tie the right way," He grumbles, his voice laced with frustration and annoyance.

"You want me to do it," You earnestly ask, your features softening though he can't see you, "I used to help my brother with his all the time."

You hear him let out a quiet sigh of relief, quickly followed by the curtain being pulled to the side so that you're able to see him entirely. Your breath gets caught in your throat as you take him in, admiring the way the suit clings to him because it was made perfectly to his body. It takes every ounce of your willpower to shake off the urge to stare, and to step into his space as he holds the tie out towards you.

"I don't usually wear ties," He awkwardly mumbles, shifting his gaze anywhere but on you.

"I know you don't," You softly chuckle as your fingers work with the material, "I think you should, though. They look nice."

Being so close to Quinn made your heart thud in your chest, it made it almost impossible to focus on tying it the correct way and pulling the cloth the right way. At one point, someone rushed behind you and Quinn was quick to move you out of their path by pulling you flush against him. The moment was short, gone almost as quickly as it had arrived, but it still made every nerve in your body fire off at once until your ears were ringing.

"Sorry," He bashfully apologizes as you tighten the knot of his tie.

"No worries," You reassure him, glancing at him before you step away, "You're all tied up. It looks good."

Quinn's cheeks redden at your compliment, but he doesn't say anything as he turns around to look at himself in the mirror. You stay a couple of feet away from him, watching as he smooths out his suit jacket and messes with its cuffs. Watching him check himself out made you have to bite your lip to keep yourself from giggling, but it made the warm feeling in your chest blossom.

"Are you sure it looks fine," He calls out over his shoulder.

"Trust me, Q. You look fine," You nod before your voice falls a few octaves and you whisper, "As hell."

"What was that," He fully turns towards you with his face twisted in slight confusion.

"I just said you looked fine. You look great, I promise. You'll easily be the best looking guy there," You vow with an encouraging smile on your face, "Now, change outta that so we can get that coffee you promised me."

"Okay, okay," He holds his hands up in mock surrender as he backs up towards the dressing room.

He steps back into it and pulls the curtain behind him, and it is only then that you let yourself take a deep breath. You sink back into the seat you had occupied before and focus on trying to get your heart rate to settle down, but you knew that wasn't going to happen until you had been dropped off at your apartment. Quinn always had that kind of effect on you, no matter what he was doing or where the two of you were.

After Quinn talks with one of the salespeople, he's got his suit protected in some fancy bag and the two of you are walking out of the shop and to his car. You weren't sure if you were imagining things or not, but it felt like he was walking closer to you on purpose. His hand and shoulder kept brushing against yours, sending jolts of electricity throughout your body with each passing touch, and it was driving you crazy.

Neither of you say anything while Quinn puts his suit in the back and you climb into the passenger seat. When he finally turns the car on, you're too busy focused on queueing up the best songs that you miss the way he was looking at you. His fingers were nervously drumming against the steering wheel, and his mouth kept dropping open like he wanted to say something, he just wasn't sure what.

"Do you think they'll have the new- What is it," You cut yourself off when you notice him, "Is something wrong?"

"Yes. Wait, no," He shakes his head before running his hand through his hair, "Nothing's wrong. It's just- Do you maybe want to go out with me? Like on a date?"

You blink once, twice and your jaw goes slack as his words echo in your skull. Quinn just asked you out. Quinn Hughes asked you out on a date.

Finally.

"Yeah," You softly smile at him, "I'd love to go on a date with you."

[bower-quinn]

Measure

The basketball players give Eddie a really stupid idea. A stupid idea that you find interesting. p in v (unprotected), oral m and f, from friends to lovers

Eddie is strolling through the deserted school hallways when he hears laughter. Confused, he stops. At this time, usually only he and his friends are still around—just like now, since Hellfire has just ended. Strange.

He follows the laughter, which leads him to the locker rooms. Carefully, he opens the door and peeks inside. No one can be heard, but the laughter is definitely coming from here.

The showers, he thinks. He’s about to leave when he hears: “Come on!”

Eddie has two traits he’s a bit embarrassed about but definitely can’t deny: He’s curious and a little pervy.

He sneaks closer and stops right in front of the door. “Come on,” the voice repeats, and now he recognizes Tommy H., “or are you scared?” “Nah,” another voice replies, which he doesn’t recognize, “give it here.” He frowns, confused—what exactly is happening in there?

Then he jumps at the sound of several voices bursting into laughter. It echoes off the tiles and roars in Eddie’s ears. “Only ten?” that’s definitely Harrington. “That’s embarrassing, man.” “Then you show me,” Eddie hears, and the boy sounds embarrassed. “No need to measure, 15.5,” Harrington says proudly. “Oh come on, anyone can say that,” and then a ratcheting sound is heard. “Fuck, the bastard is right.”

Suddenly, Eddie understands exactly what he’s eavesdropping on. The boys from the basketball team are measuring the length of their dicks. He quickly covers his mouth with his hand. A chuckle, deep from his chest, bubbles up, tickling inside. Tears prick his eyes as he suppresses it hard.

If the guys catch him here, they’ll beat him to a pulp. “14,” says Tommy H., “close!” “One centimeter make a difference!” Steve says seriously, and Eddie quietly gasps. Jesus Christ, they can’t be serious?

“Did you hear that?” Steve asks, and Eddie freezes. “No, what?” “That was the biology class. They want their worm back.”

Amid loud laughter, Eddie backs away slowly and cautiously. Nobody will believe him.

When he’s back in his trailer, he lies on his bed, smokes a joint, and thinks. He’s never measured his length before, hadn’t even thought about it until just now. Not that there were ever any complaints. But… he’s curious now.

He puts out his joint and crawls halfway under his bed. Somewhere here… ah, there it is! He pulls out a ruler, slightly dusty but more than adequate. His belt clinks quietly as he unbuckles it, then his pants drop to the floor.

Being high always makes him a bit slow, so deciding whether he has to be hard or not is really tough. With a nod, he decides to test it bit by bit. First like this. His boxers drop to the floor too, then he sits on the bed. He presses the ruler against his crotch and holds his penis against it. Before he can see the number, the door loudly swings open.

“What the hell, Munson?” He looks at you for a second, then pulls his pillow over his lap. Pointless, you’ve already seen everything. You stand there, arms crossed, laughing heartily. Eddie’s face turns bright red, and he glares at you angrily. “What the fuck is this? Do you always have to barge in?” “Sorry,” you laugh, raising your hands in defense, “I didn’t know you were measuring your dick.” “This is my room,” he hisses, “you can’t just barge in here!” “But you don’t mind it otherwise,” you glance at the extinguished joint, sigh disappointedly, then look back at him. You can tell he’s really mad at you.

“Hey Eddie,” you say more seriously now, “I’m really sorry. Should I go?” “Nah,” he mutters, looking down, “you’ve already seen everything anyway.” “Well, I didn’t see much,” you say quickly, trying to save the situation, but he looks at you again, raising an eyebrow. “Cool, thanks?” You laugh again. “No, that’s not what I meant. I mean, I saw a lot,” you bite your lower lip for a moment, “but nothing bad.” “Jesus darling,” now Eddie laughs too, “you make everything so much worse.” “I know,” you carefully sit beside him, careful not to touch his bare legs, “can you explain how you came up with this stupid idea?” “Omg darling,” Eddie leans back, making sure the pillow doesn’t slip, “you’ll never believe me!” He tells you what he overheard, and when he finishes, you almost scream with laughter. Tears run down your face. That’s always the case when Eddie tells you something. One of the reasons he’s been your best friend for years. He always makes you laugh.

Even now, sitting pantsless next to you. A fact that makes your stomach flutter. A dumb, silly feeling you quickly push aside.

“Can you believe it?” Eddie pants and wipes his face, not finding the story as funny as you do, but your laughter is contagious, “15 centimeters? Harrington?” “Hell yes I believe it,” you say, “he definitely wasn’t exaggerating.” Eddie’s head snaps around, a look of disbelief flashes across his face. “No way, you and Harrington?” His voice rises with each word. “Hey,” you raise your hands again, “what’s so surprising about me hooking up with someone like Harrington?” He looks away and snorts contemptuously. “Exactly the other way around, someone like Harrington hooks up with you!” At those words, your heart beats a little faster. His big doe eyes rest on you; you could sit here for hours just looking at them. But then Eddie would start asking questions, and you’d have to explain that you’ve been in love with your best friend for months. No no, never. You’d never do something like that.

“So,” Eddie says very slowly, holding your gaze, “you kissed Steve Harrington?” “That too,” you reply, “but that was the most innocent thing we did.” Eddie’s eyes flicker to your lips for a second. Steve Harrington kissed you, he thinks, so you let kisses happen. Ipso facto, he could kiss you too.

“And then?” You look at him with raised eyebrows. “I’m not going to lay out my sex life for you, especially not when you’re sitting half-naked next to me.” Again, Eddie’s face turns bright red. He’d almost forgotten about that. “Can you go out for a bit so I can get dressed?” You nod, get up, but stay standing. “Okay, just out of curiosity. Did you manage to measure before I came in?” Eddie shakes his head. “That’s probably a task for Future Eddie.”

The way he grins at you. Openly honest. His curls fall wildly around his head and he's wearing that stupid Hellfire T-shirt. The fact that a pillow covers his crotch makes the sight of him even more delicate.

Slowly, his smile disappears and his eyes bore into yours.

“So,” you say very slowly, swallowing and breathing in and out shakily, ”we can measure together.”

Boom. You've dropped the bomb. A little hint, with a lot more behind it. He just stares at you, you can literally see him sorting the words in his stoned head.

“Together?” he repeats tonelessly.

You're about to let it all hang out like a joke, hoping that it hasn't already ruined your friendship.

But then he holds the ruler out to you. His cheeks turn red again and you would love nothing more than to kiss them.

“Don't laugh,” he mumbles, then he takes a deep breath and pulls the pillow aside.

“Oh,” you do. Not out of shock, but out of joy. Seeing Eddie's penis is so much better than you always imagined. And you really have imagined it a lot.

“Don't stare at him like that,” Eddie whispers, ”he's shy.”

“I doubt it,” you giggle and crouch down in front of him. You hear Eddie swallow dryly.

Seeing his best friend kneeling in front of him with his penis exposed. And then your gaze, joyful and...he must be imagining it, hungry, it's almost too much. Every fiber of his body tenses, he has to use all his strength to prevent an erection.

“Have you ever done this before?” he asks quietly as you apply the ruler. You smile in response.

“Guess where Steve got his number from.”

“Shit,” the thought of you holding Harrington's cock in your hand, having done the exact same thing to him, is as sexy as it is terrifying.

“Just under nine,” you mutter expertly and then look up, ”good cut”

“Thanks,” Eddie laughs ashamedly and looks away.

Your eyes from below, at his penis. Shit.

“But what really counts,” he hears you mumble, ”is when it's in action.”

“Ah,” he does, ”that...well...”

“I didn't tell you to do that right now,” you say quickly, looking at him again.

Oh fuck it, thinks Eddie, everything's already gone down the drain anyway, what's going to happen?

“Did you put your hand on Steve,” he swallows his anger, ”and then measure it?”

“Not my hand,” you answer vaguely, ”but yes, something like that.”

“Fuck,” as Eddie sees an image in his head, he can't help himself. A groan escapes him and he immediately feels ashamed. But something else happens. The thought of you blowing Steve Harrington makes his cock get a little hard. Not much, but enough to be noticeable.

“Yes, he reacted similarly,” you reply seriously, glancing at his penis.

“If you want...” you start and he moans again.

“Please,” he whispers.

You put the ruler to one side, place your hands on his thighs and gently push them apart, you need more space. Everything you've been dreaming about for the last few months is within your grasp, literally. You can finally suck off Eddie Munson, your best friend and the most beautiful man on the planet. Your mouth is watering and you swallow.

Eddie is watching you and he realizes that he's not the only one reacting to you physically. YOU are reacting to him in the same way. YOU want this blowjob at least as much as he does. Fuck.

That alone makes him even harder.

“Hm,” you say as you take a seat between his legs, ”your head seems to be doing the work for me.”

“Sorry,” he gasps, ”but that's...hot”

“Then you should see yourself,” you whisper and wrap your lips around his tip. Eddie lets out a soft whimper. He sinks his upper body onto the bed and closes his eyes. Just feel how you lick over his tip and let your lips move further down. Then he's in your mouth, your warm and moist mouth.

“Jesus,” he claws at the sheets, ”Jesus darling.”

Your giggles make his cock go wild and he whimpers again. This is the best fucking blowjob of his life.

Your soft hand wraps around his shaft and massages the place you can't reach. When Eddie is fully hard, you let him out of your mouth with a pop.

Eddie grumbles in disappointment, leaning on his elbows and looking at you. He would love to grab your hair and fuck your little mouth. Until he cums hot in your throat.

But you're his best friend, he would never do anything you don't want or find kinky.

“We'll do that in a minute,” you say, chuckling with amusement when you see the surprised look on his face.

“Where-?” he begins.

“Eddie, please. You're my best friend. I know what you like.”

“I can't say the same for you,” he mutters.

“Hm, I'll have to show you then,” you snap your fingers, ”give me that.”

He hands you the ruler and you have to be careful again, then you beam at him.

“Sixteen centimeters! Winner!”

The way you beam at him, by God, Eddie feels his heart skip a beat.

“But you know what,” you say, looking at his cock.

“What?” Eddie asks, quite breathlessly.

“I think the thickness is much more important. And you, my dear,” you lick over his length again, ”win that in lengths too”

Normally you would have laughed at your pun, but Eddie claws into your hair, gasping, pushing your head back to his cock. Immediately you open your mouth, letting him in.

He starts to move his hips quickly, thrusting into your mouth.

“You feel so good”; he whimpers, ”oh god, so. GOOD!”

Your response is a high-pitched hum, which is all you're capable of. You claw into his thighs, letting him fuck your mouth. Fast, hard.

Then he stops, lets go of your hair.

“I,” he swallows and you know what he's about to say, he's about to come. He's afraid to come in your mouth, even though that's exactly what he wants.

But Eddie looks at you, he was allowed to do what he wanted, to take your delicious mouth with his cock, that's all he wants to put you through.

But you don't pull back, you lick, work your way back down and with a stifled cry he comes. Hot sperm flows down your throat and you swallow with his penis still in your mouth.

“Ah,” he says, ”ah.”

That's all he's capable of.

You lift your head, very slowly. Your spit runs slowly over Eddie's testicles and it makes his stomach tingle somehow.

“Good?” you ask and sit down next to him.

“Babe, that was the best fucking blowjob of my life.”

This serious compliment makes you giggle.

“Thank you.”

It gets quiet between you, you both don't know what to do next. Then you point to his balls.

“You should clean that, they're getting cold.”

It's more of a skip than serious concern.

“Yeah,” Eddie is absent, thoughtful. He takes off his T-shirt, wipes the wetness from his crotch and then tosses it carelessly with his pants. He only realizes that he is now sitting completely naked in front of you when you emit a strange noise, somewhere between a hissing moan and a whimper.

“Ehm,” he says, avoiding your gaze, ”yeah well.”

He was expecting everything. With questions about his tattoos, maybe a laugh because he's untrained, pale. No hair on his chest, just this little line running down from his navel. And that's what makes your restraint go out the window.

With a growl, fuck you really growl, you throw yourself at him.

Your hands find his curls and your lips his. He immediately returns the kiss, moving his lips against yours. Your upper lip pushes between his and he sucks lightly on it.

While your hands pull at his curls, his wander over your back. Under your T-shirt and over your heated skin. As if he's trying to read a map with his fingers.

Your spine is exciting for him, every point he can feel seems new.

“Eddie,” you whisper into the kiss, ”oh Eddie.”

“Yes,” he breathes, ”yes.”

He realizes in that second that you've wanted this for a long time. Just like him. Damn, you could have done this for so long.

He slowly slides his tongue past yours, into your mouth. It feels heavenly and he thinks, “Finally. Finally Finally Finally.”

Your clothes are constricting you, you need to feel Eddie. Everywhere.

When you release your mouth from his, he looks disappointed, but that immediately subsides when you pull your T-shirt over your head.

“Oh baby,” he breathes, ”what nice tits.”

“You think so?” you ask him in mock seriousness as you undo your bra.

“Lord, Jesus,” he whispers. He looks askance at your breasts and sighs softly.

“Lord, Jesus and tits,” you giggle, ”the holy trinity.”

“You're so silly,” he kisses you again, ”maybe I should stuff your mouth?”

“No no, now it's your turn.”

His eyes widen.

“Are you sure, I mean…can I?”

“I'd be offended if you didn't,” you cry out in surprise as Eddie grabs you by the waist, spins you around and pins you to the bed.

“Every time,” he says as he unzips your pants, ”when I've masturbated, I've imagined what it would be like to eat your pussy. Every fucking time.”

“Then do it already!” you almost scream with impatience. Eddie smiles mischievously and pulls down your underpants with your Jeans.

“What a beautiful view,” he breathes, ”how wet you are.”

“Always,” you say, humming as he slides his index finger through your wetness, ”just for you.”

“Just for me,” he hums. Then his tongue glides over your folds, dipping into the wetness. Eddie is a connoisseur, he always has been. He takes in your taste before devoting himself to your clit. He circles it with slow movements, you gasp and moan and arch your back as he slides his index and middle fingers inside you.

“So ready,” he whispers, ”do you think you can take another one?”

As you nod, he carefully inserts his ring finger. He fucks you with three fingers, slowly, steadily.

“Oh god,” a rumble rolls out of your chest as he finds the spot inside you that Steve has always searched for in vain.

“Bingo,” Eddie chuckles, ”the way your pussy throbs.”

“Don't stop,” you beg Eddie, ”please. Please. Let me come. PLEASE Eddie, please.”

“Lord,” he breathes, ”my good girl.”

The orgasm rolls over you like a wave. Your toes curl and goose bumps cover your entire body.

“That was,” you say and then laugh, ”Eddie”

“I know,” he lies down next to you, his cock hard again. But he reaches under his pillow, pulls out a packet of weed and some paper.

“Quick break,” he mumbles, rolling a joint with deft fingers that are still wet from you. The lighter clicks, he inhales deeply, then hands it to you.

“Now tell me, how was Harrington in bed?”

“You mean in the car,” you reply, taking a drag on the joint, keeping the smoke in your lungs and then exhaling in a controlled manner.

“Fine by me.”

“Fine, but not like this,” you laugh again, ”besides, he was screaming Nancy when he came.”

“What did he?” Eddie laughs so hard he chokes on the smoke. What a twat.

“Well, that was okay,” you mumble, taking another drag on the joint, ”I did call out a different name too.”

Eddie looks at you with interest.

“Yours,” you say casually.

Eddie presses his hands to his face, his shoulders shrug and you can't tell whether he's crying or laughing.

“Eddie?” you ask carefully, kissing his chest.

“I'm such a goddamn fool,” he mumbles, ”I could have kissed you months ago. I could have fucked you in your little car.”

He puts his hands down again and remorse is on his face.

“You can still do all that.”

He stubs out the joint, then leans over you.

“I'd like to fuck you now,” he says slowly, ”hard and dirty. But I'll do what you want.”

Hard and dirty, those words echo through you.

“Yes,” you whisper, ”fuck me.”

A dirty grin rolls across his face. But when he stands up, you grab his arm and look at him questioningly.

“Baby, I may be reckless, but I'm not stupid,” he nods to his cupboard, ”I'll get a condom.”

“I'll take the pill,” you say quickly, ”so if you want…”

He stares at you, his cock getting hard again at those words. The thought of feeling you completely is overwhelming.

“Are you serious?”

You nod, wiggle your hands and he lies down with you again.

Your kisses are hot, just like your breath. You're so high from the weed and Eddie. You briefly forget where Eddie starts and you end. You share a skin.

“Darling,” he props himself up on his elbows and navigates between your legs. His tip touches your wet heat and he has to close his eyes.

“Fuck me Eddie,” you breathe into his ear, ”fuck me”

He slides into you.

Fuck, he's so big. And thick. The way he feels inside you, Lord, you can feel him in your fucking chest. If he's going to fuck you now-

“Baby,” he laughs, ”if you keep talking like that, I'm going to cum without making a move.”

That's when you realize you've said all your thoughts out loud.

“Oh,” but the thoughts of that disappear as he moves, no consideration not. Hard, he rolls his hips against yours, his balls slapping against your butt. His rhythm is hard, fast and deep.

After a while, he straightens up without pulling out of you. He lifts your legs and you stretch them out, straight in front of you.

He supports the back of your knees and rams into you again.

This way he can reach you deeper and you cry out loudly. It hurts, but it's a good pain.

“Your pussy is perfect,” he gasps, ”so tight, baby, I've never fucked without a condom.”

“Come inside me,” you beg him, ”I want to feel all of you.”

“Lord give me strength,” Eddie whispers, spreading your legs slightly, looking at your little pussy in front of him, which has now left a stain on his sheet. He collects spit in his mouth and spits on your pussy.

This is the moment you come. You quickly pulse around him and he rams his cock into you one last time.

Together you whimper and your panting breaths fill his room.

“That should be illegal,” he murmurs as he pulls out of you, cuddling up to you.

“Are you okay?” he asks, kissing your left breast.

“Hmm, very good,” you purr, ”perfect.”

Eddie puts his head on your chest, listens to your breathing and with his middle finger he pushes his cum, which is slowly leaking out of you, back into you. Over and over again.

He silently thanks the cowards on the basketball team.

[seresinhangmanjake]

Hunter and Him

Remmick x female!reader

Summary: After Annie and Mary trained you to be a vampire hunter, you imagine that the last thing they would have expected was for you to fall in love with one. Every night, you sneak off to be with Remmick, but on a night when Mary and Annie almost catch the two of you together, Remmick asks you to leave with him for good.

Notes/Warnings: Smut, so 18+ please. Remmick is soft boy. That honestly might be it.

I don't support the actions of this character in the movie at all. I just think the guy's hot, alright? I'm sorry. I can't even explain why.

Words: 3200

Sinners Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag List

You used to tell yourself you didn’t know what he was when you met him. That when he found his way into one of Clarksdale’s only bars, it wasn’t because he asked the front doorman for permission, it was because he was like any other patron, a regular man who walked right through the door like anyone else, ready for a good time. You told yourself that when he asked you for a dance and you took his hand, his skin wasn’t colder to the touch than it should have been. You let yourself pretend that the low lighting in the bar was not reflecting off of his irises in an unnatural way, and that when he smiled at you, there wasn’t a slight exaggeration to his canines. 

You reassured yourself of these things because you had to. Because you were reckless that night, and recklessness was not in your nature. Because after an hour in his company and too many drinks, you led him around the bar to the back alley where you let him take you against the weathered brick wall, and kiss you, and nick the skin of your neck with his teeth. He licked the trail of blood from your collarbone back up to the little mark he’d made, and you allowed yourself believe that was normal, because if the others found out, not only would they kill him, but they would likely kill you, too.

Mary and Annie had been hunters long before you. When you met, they’d been following a lead which sent them to your house, and it was there they’d found you, huddled into a corner, your sopping face hidden by your bloodied hands as the decapitated bodies of your parents and brother lay around you. They’d comforted you, as women do, and convinced you to join them—they’d lost people too—so you did. Mary had taught you how to fight, Annie how to track. 

You should have ended him the moment the internal alarm in you sensed the potential of what he was. Mary and Annie would have. They would have clocked him immediately and done their job. But not you. 

To be fair, you were the newest hunter. Your guesses and suspicions had been off a time or two, leading you to follow a perfectly innocent man to his home, only to find a loving family there to greet him. You could’ve easily been wrong about Remmick. Ignoring the signs didn’t necessarily have to do with the way he looked at you and how it made the blood in your body rush as if trying to outrun something. 

But a few nights after the bar encounter, you could no longer play that game with yourself. He showed up at your house in the dead of night, knocking and shocking you awake. You hadn’t given him your address, and yet there he stood, unable to step past your threshold even though you held the door open wide enough for his frame to enter. No words were spoken to confirm it. Instead, you told him to come in, and he kissed you and nibbled on you and took you all over again. 

That has been your pattern ever since. You lie to your friends, you invite him in or sneak off somewhere, you fuck a vampire, you part ways before sunrise, you repeat. Six months you’ve been going on. And tonight is no different. 

—

It’s not like it’s easy. You feel guilt every time you do it. Betraying your friends was never something you wanted, it was something the lord forced upon you when he allowed Remmick to enter your life. And now that you’re locked in, you can’t be expected to stop. 

As you escape into the woods that line the back of your house, Annie and Mary lie asleep inside. You know he’s watching you, smirking. He will never not revel in the satisfaction he feels from having you to himself in the most risky of times. And you will never get enough of the feeling of anticipation that fills your gut each time you come to him. 

The density of the forest blocks out the majority of the moonlight, nothing but a few beams streaming through sparse openings in the treetops. As you venture forth, you lift your skirt, carefully stepping over winding roots and around patches of vines, avoiding mud puddles that will surely ruin your slippers and the hem of your silk robe. 

“About time, darlin’,” he says, and you pause, your head on a swivel. 

He reveals himself from the shadow cast by a large tree. There’s a slight curl to his lips as he stands there. A second passes, and you take each other in like it’s the first time you’re seeing one another. His eyes are their natural shade, his fangs nowhere in sight, but, as always, he carries the air of a vampire—confidence, with a touch of arrogance. 

As he walks toward you, an unhurried gait to his steps, the same effects he’s had on you since you met him return: heart pumping, breath catching, blood rushing, face blushing. 

You still can’t quite put your finger on how he does this to you. After all, he’s not the only man who has shown you attention. But where those men produced in you little emotion, if any, Remmick’s presence sinks into you, rapping on the closed door of sensations you’ve never felt before—a deep desire, a thrilling need that is ever more overwhelming with him so close. It’s like there is an invisible aura around him capable of casting a spell over anyone within a certain radius. Or perhaps, it is just you. Maybe you are the only one meant to react this way to him. 

“They’re at my house tonight,” you tell him. “Had to wait until they were good and asleep.”

Remmick hums, unpleased despite your perfectly reasonable excuse. 

“We have to be quick,” you say, and to that, his brows dip in the center and his bottom lip protrudes in a slight pout. 

“Why?”

You roll your eyes. “You know why.”

“We always gotta be quick,” he grumbles, his arms crossing over his chest. “I’m tired of quick.”

Truth be told, you’re tired of quick, too. But it can’t be helped. You both have the lives you have, and both of those lives come with complications—time, undeniably, being one of them, and how limited yours is when you most wish it would cease ticking on. Nothing can stop the world from spinning, however. Nothing can stop the night from ending, the morning from coming, or your friends from waking and questioning your absence. 

“Just take off your clothes,” you tell him. 

He stares at you for a few lengthy seconds, but eventually he sighs and reaches for his shirt. One by one, deft fingers pop open the buttons, exposing inch by inch of his toned chest. Then he pulls the suspenders off his shoulders, lets them fall to his sides, and yanks the rest of his shirt from his trousers to undo the remaining closures. His eyes remain on your face as the cotton slides down his arms onto the ground before he attacks the clasp of his pants. With thumbs tucked into the waistband, he guides the trousers, along with his underwear, over his hips, and lightly kicks them aside so they can join his discarded shirt. 

Every inch of his body is muscled. They’re not the muscles of a man engaging in back-breaking work on the daily, but they’re just the right amount of toned to keep him strong. Enough to lift you and hold you how he pleases. You think you’ll never get over the sight of him. 

Goosebumps skitter down your arms. You somehow manage to keep your voice steady when you say, “Lie down.”

He raises a brow but does as he’s told, dropping to his knees and reclining back onto a patch of grass as you reach for the tie that is keeping your robe wrapped around you. You pull on one of the tails of the bow until the material peels apart. You didn’t bother with undergarments tonight—it’s too hot as it is—and you don’t miss the heavy inhale that Remmick sucks in through his nose as his stare roams from your breasts to your navel to the slit between your legs. 

Stepping out of your slippers, you move toward him. When you’re close, he extends his hand and you let him assist you in settling on top of his thighs. His cock is swollen red, on the verge of a bruised purple, aching, pleading, as if you didn’t just satisfy one another the night before. It twitches when you take it in your hand and pump once, twice. A vein pulses against your palm. Remmick’s breathing fails to remain calm, and then with a squeeze of your fist, his eyelids pinch and the back of his head digs into the dirt. He releases a delicate whimper. That whimper quickly loses out to a gasp, which then turns into a groan when you rise on your knees, guide him to your entrance, and take him inside of you. 

Strong hands fly to your waist, nails elongating into razors and poking into your skin. You watch his adam’s apple bob harshly in his throat. You try to shift your hips, but his grip on you tightens to keep you still. Patiently, you wait, and it’s not until his fingers ease their pressure that you plant your hands on his abdomen and test out another roll of your hips. His grasp tightens again, but this time he eases his hold much sooner.

For his benefit as much as your own, you start slow. Despite the familiarity of him inside of you, your body never seems to get used to the stretch, the fullness. Each time, it takes a toll on you, but thankfully he has yet to decide to rush your pace.

When he opens his eyes, they’re their typical red, glazed over with lust. His teeth are longer and pointed at the ends. His palms slide up your waist, claws running along the curve of your breasts before brushing over hardened buds. Your walls clench around him, and his jaw sharpens from his grinding molars. When his pelvis bucks, the air is punched out of your lungs.

It takes a moment to regain your breath, but once you do, he sits up and his arms cinch around your waist. His face is a mere inch away, your gazes locked, your oxygen shared—it’s close and yet not close enough. He leans in and his lips ghost over yours; a kiss that is as much of a kiss as can be without fully eclipsing your mouth with his own. One of your hands rests on his bicep, the other gripping the back of his neck, and you move again, lifting up and gently sliding back down, and lifting up, and sliding down. A low moan rumbles from his chest as his forehead falls against your collarbone. 

You don’t talk. There’s no need for words. Only touch. Only overwhelming sensations. It’s all groans and moans and whimpers and breathing, and that’s all you want it to be. 

But then you hear your name being called in the distance. 

Remmick squeezes you as if to keep you from fleeing, holding you down until you’re speared to the hilt and unable to move. The tension in his body forces you to shove aside the concern of your friends’ voices. You’re deep enough in the woods; surely they won’t find you any time soon.

Placing your hands on his face, you guide him to look at you. “It’s ok,” you whisper, nodding. “It’s ok.”

He blinks and swallows and frees you enough so you can resume the motion of your hips. Gentle, then harder, then faster until you’re tumbling over the edge.

Remmick’s palm over your mouth muffles your whine as the tight coil in your core releases. When he follows after you, you do the same, pressing your hand to his lips to keep his groan locked in his throat. 

As you come down, your face tucks into the crook where his neck meets his shoulder. The tips of his claws trace along your spine in the moment of silence; the delicate moment of peace that no living soul is permitted to invade.

He breaks that silent peace when he says, “Stay,” the lone word riding on the back of a heavy exhale. 

Immediately, your lungs constrict. Your chest sinks in on itself. You hate this part. 

“They'll find me,” you say. “They'll find you.”

“Then come with me. Right now.”

Your head whips up. A crease forms between your brows. “Remmick.”

“We could go where we want. Wherever you wanna be, I'll take ya there.” He presses a soft kiss to your lips, then says, “Won't be hidin’ no more.” Another kiss. “You love me, don't ya?”

You’ve never said it. Neither has he. But you know. You both know. 

Your name echoes through the trees again, and your heartbeat is no longer fueled by the heat of passion but an anxious chill that makes your skin clammy. Your head twists in the direction of the voices. They’re getting closer. Teeth nip at your neck, but when you pay it no attention, Remmick’s hand cups your cheek and he turns your face back to his. You lock eyes. The red is gone, replaced by the luminescence of the white that reflects the moon’s glow. Fangs are retracted, save for the canines. 

“C'mon, darlin’,” he whispers, his stare piercing into yours. “You got nothin’ keepin’ you here.”

You consider his words. Is that true? You’ve got your house. You’ve got this town, the people in this town. You’ve got your friends. But, at the same time, you’re no fool. To keep all of that means you can’t keep him. Because one day, you’ll slip up, and when you do, Annie and Mary won’t understand. They won’t spare him a stake to the heart just because that heart already belongs to you. They will rip that heart out of your hands and do what must be done to turn the man you love to ash before your very eyes, assuming they don’t make you carry out the act yourself. They will show no remorse because they will have none. Through your tears, their faces will be blurry shapes, and those blurry shapes will tell you to get over it, to get back to your job and do it the way they trained you. 

But you won’t be able to get over it. Neither will you be able to forgive them for the enjoyment they will receive from ending him. 

You’ve staked a handful of vampires, including the one that killed your family, and you know the feeling of ridding the world of one more monster. It’s addicting, as much of a high as falling apart on Remmick’s cock, and that is what Annie and Mary will feel when they take him from you. They love you, you love them, but love will not prevail over injecting that drug into their veins.

Remmick’s thumb lazily swipes over your bottom lip. As if the motion has also wiped your slate of mind clean, you drop your thoughts and focus your attention back on him, his face, the look in his eyes. He’s unsure, you realize, not confident that you will give him what he’s asking for, and it creates a little crack in your heart. But you already have your answer, the only answer you were ever going arrive at. 

You nod a single, firm nod and say, “Okay.”

—

You came back. Just this once. Just to visit. Just to check on them. From a distance, of course. If they caught sight of you, they’d be able to detect what you are in an instant, and you can’t risk that. They’d be ashamed of you, and having once been their friend would not likely stop them from doing what they consider themselves put on this earth to do. So you don’t put them in that position. 

You were declared lost, then missing, then dead. There was a funeral. There’s a tombstone with your name etched into it, standing above an empty coffin in the one graveyard on the edge of town. 

To the world, you are gone. But you think they know. 

Earlier in the night, when you stood outside their window, you caught them talking about you. They started on how much they miss you, but that did not last long before they were prying back into the details your disappearance, how odd it was, how random, how different you’d become in the months prior. Mary said it wasn’t the first time she’d woken in the middle of the night to find you absent, only for you to be tucked back in bed by morning. Annie reminded her of the time they tracked a vampire to the woods behind your house and how tirelessly you worked to convince them it was just a deer. 

It went no further than that, and after recounting their memories, they stared at one another for a beat before shaking their heads and switching the conversation to something a little more logical. You suspect it’s because neither of them wanted to speak it aloud.

It’s for the best. The sooner they let you go, the better. You are not coming back from the dead. It’s amongst the dead where you have chosen to belong. With him. 

From the shadows, you watch your friends step through the door of the bar where you met Remmick. It feels like just yesterday your eyes landed on him for the first time, and yet forever ago. You imagine that is how the rest of your life will feel as well; the effects of eternity.

Arms suddenly wrap around your waist from behind. “Few months we’ll come back if ya want,” Remmick says, planting a kiss on your shoulder. 

Tingles spread down your limbs at the pleasure of his lips on you. One thing he didn’t prepare you for ahead of time: everything is intensified in this new form. Every inch of your skin is more sensitive, every touch is more consuming, every orgasm more shattering. You still haven’t gotten used to it. 

Your hand reaches up, fingers sifting and fisting into his hair. He chuckles, and that kiss turns into a bite that makes the hair on your arms stand on end. 

“Maybe we shouldn’t,” you tell him. “I’m dead here.”

His tongue catches the blood that drains from your puncture wounds and he licks a line up your neck to your ear. “You’re dead everywhere,” he whispers, nipping at your earlobe. “Dead and mine.”

You smile then, and anything that isn’t him and his body against yours melts away. Because he is all that matters. Despite what you had to give up, you made the right choice, and nothing on this earth could convince you otherwise.

Turning in his arms, your link your hands around his neck. The kiss is slow, tender. When it breaks, he rests his forehead against yours. 

Yes. 

Dead and his. 

Forever.

---

A/N: Thank you for reading :) If you liked it, let me know. It always makes my day.

Tag List

[thevoidstaredback]

Part 5

At some point, he must've fallen asleep because Danny wakes up when someone unlocks his door from the outside and comes inside the room.

"Danny?" It's Jason again. "You in here?"

He listens to Jason's steps, tracking them as carefully as he can without being able to see them. He turns invisible.

Jason knocks on the closet door. "Hey, buddy? I know you don't want me to come in, so I'm not going to, but can you make some kind of noise so that I know you're not dead?

Danny almost snorts. "Can't kill a dead guy," he whispers.

There's a pause before Jason leans against the wall next to the door and slides down to sit on the floor. "You, too, huh?"

That makes Danny blink. 'You, too'?

"That ice up on the roof yesterday night?" Jason says, "I knew it felt familiar. Dying gave you super powers, right?" A huff of breath, just short of a laugh. "It only gave me anger issues."

Danny uncurls and drops to sit on the floor, his back keeping the door closed. "How old?" He whispers.

"Fourteen. You."

"Same."

It's quiet for a bit, though he can hear breathing, so he assumes Jason needs to do that to survive. He's jealous, just a little bit.

He inhales before dropping it, trying to come up with the words he wants to ask. No, that's not right. He has the words, but he doesn't want to ask anything.

Jason speaks before he can. "Damian came in last night to try and talk to you. Said you were crying in the bathroom. He took care of the glass on the floor and wants to apologize for breaking in."

"And the bed?"

"That was Cass. She came in after Damian and moved the furniture back. She figured you didn't want anyone breaking your window again."

He hummed. "Does anyone know?"

"Know what?"

"Know about the ice?"

"No. All I told 'em was that you were up on the roof and to leave you alone. I assume they listened?"

"Yeah."

"Good. Then they can follow directions."

That, that makes Danny giggle a little bit.

"So you do have a sense of humor!" Jason cheers, "I was beginning to worry when you didn't laugh at my chill pun up on the roof. Speaking of, how were you balancing on the spire like that? I thought only Dickhead could do that, and even he has troubles!"

Danny debated in his head whether or not he should answer. On one hand, Jason's kinda like him, with the whole being dead thing. On the other hand, he really wants to be left alone and if he keeps talking, then he's never going to be left alone.

There's some shuffling as Jason stands up. "Alfred's the only other one in the Manor right now. Do you want some food?"

He didn't need it, but there wasn't any stars in Gotham, so, "Yes."

"Cool. In house or take-out?"

"Take out."

"You stay in the closet or do you wanna come out?"

Danny snickers. "Not to you, weather boy,"

Jason laughs, deep and from their chest. They probably laugh with their whole body. "Yeah, that's fair."

He stands, still invisible, and opens the door. "I'll go with you."

Jason whistles. "Ivis, too? Man, I got ripped off when I died!"

Closing the door behind him, Danny sneaks behind Jason and jumps on their back. They stumble, obviously not expecting his sudden weight, but they catch him nonetheless.

"Where to, zombie boy?"

"Ghost," he corrects.

"'Ghost'?"

"Ghost."

"That explains the invisibility," Jason mutters, "Alright, then, ghost boy, where to?"

Danny shrugs. "Never been here. Don't like it here."

Jason clicks their tongue. "I'm gonna treat you to the best worst burger this side of the Mississippi River!"

"That doesn't make sense."

"It will."

Part 7

[hahaifolded]

141 x POC!GN Intelligence Operative - Bedside Manners Author's Notes: next part will be angstier, promise! I feel there hasn't been enough angst as of recently Warnings: MDNI (FYI I do block ageless blogs), Angst, Depictions of hospitals

The room is tense. The 141 don’t speak as they fear that the slightest noise will shatter the thin ice they’re all on.

After your abrupt exit, Kate asked the team to explain themselves as she didn’t understand their logic. They supposedly like and respect you but you’re out here telling Kate that you feel like a nuisance. They say they want you to stay but you’re out here looking for a way out. If they don’t like you, fine… stupid in Kate’s opinion, but fine, that’s their choice but why the mixed messages? In all her years she’s worked with Price and his men, she’s never one questioned their actions, but now she wasn’t too sure.

“So who’s going to speak? John?” Price lowers his gaze.

“Ghost?” Simon shifts uncomfortably in his spot. 

“MacTavish?” Johnny grimaces. 

“I guess it has to be you Kyle.” Kate crosses her arms and looks at each soldier, pausing at Gaz. “Now tell me, what the hell is going on? You guys might not like them but they’re still mine at the end of the day so tell me, should I cut them loose and grant them the transfer?” 

It’s like lightening strikes the room as soon as Kate uttered those words.

“Cap’n,” Ghost practically growls. All three men look at their captain, who deflates in bed, with baited breath.

With a strained voice, Price informs his team of your shocking offer. 

All hell breaks loose. Ghost practically falls into the nearest seat, head in his hands, muttering out “no, no, no” over and over again. Johnny begins to pace, arms flailing, muttering profanities. And Kyle… poor, poor Kyle just snaps.

He rushes towards John’s bed and grabs his captain from the collar of his shirt. “This is all your fucking fault,” he hisses. Gaz jerks the wounded soldier and yells, “if it wasn’t for your stupid rule, we wouldn’t be losing them!” And much to Kate’s shock, Price takes the berating. 

Kate rushes Kyle and pulls the sergeant off his captain. She switches spots with Gaz to create some distance between the two. Utterly confused by everything, she demands Kyle to explain what is going on.

And much to Kate’s shock, Kyle’s anger completely dissipates the second he turns towards her. His eyes, instead of burning with rage, glisten with grief. After taking a second to gather himself, Kyle tells Laswell the truth of these past few months.

The longer Kyle spoke, the more Kate’s stomach churned. She couldn’t believe her ears. She stared at each man in disbelief. “You’re kidding, right? You all can’t be serious.” 

Their reactions only make it worse. Price and MacTavish’s ears burn red. Ghost looks to the floor and Kyle slowly nods.

“For fuck’s sake…” Kate’s voice is tight as she tries to restrain herself. “How can all of you be so immature?” she scolds. However, she can only hold her disscontempt back for so long. 

“What were you thinking?” she practically yells at Price. “Instead of getting your men in check, you decide to blame them for what… for for being nice... for existing?” 

She turns to the rest of them. “And don’t think you're exempt from this! I have seen you disobey orders from five-star generals, but when it’s muttonchops, you hesitate?”

Kate takes a moment to contain her anger. She has no clue why she’s so angry? Is she angry that her golden boys aren’t all that golden? Is she angry that men who she has bent over backwards for threw her protege under the bus just because they couldn’t control their dicks? Or is she angry that she outright blamed you for something that was never your fault? 

“Just tell me this, what was the logic? They, for some reason, stay and what… you all get to sleep with them and pretend like nothing happened? Tell me what did you think was going to happen?” 

No one dares to look at Kate which only angers her more.

She scoffs at them. “Pathetic all of you. You’re special forces for fuck’s sake .” She shakes her head in disgust at them and makes her way to the exit. However, before she leaves, she leaves the boys with one final warning. “I’m going to start the paperwork for their transfer, and the second they say they want it, I’m granting it. So do whatever you want, but just know, they didn’t deserve this… not one bit.” And with that, Kate Laswell leaves the 141 with that shame. 

— — — 

“What do we do?” 

The four men sit in silence. They all fester in their own self pity. Even Johnny’s attempt to rally the troops fell flat as even he didn’t believe that something could be done. 

How did they let this get this far? 

“We let them go,” Price admits. Kyle, Ghost, and Johnny turn at him in shock. “Kate’s right. They didn’t deserve this. We ignored them and made them feel like the problem when really it was us. They deserve a team and it’s clear that we can’t be one for them.”

“But Price, we can’t. We can’t just let them g—“

“Do you still love them?” Price asks not only to Johnny but to every man in that room. “Because I know I still do.” No one has to say anything as they all know the answer. The root of their problem is clearly still there and as long as it exists, there’s not much they can—

“So we’ll share.” All eyes immediately land on Ghost.

Kyle chokes on his spit. “What?” 

Ghost sits up straight in his seat. His eyes burned with determination. “You heard me, we’ll share. We’ll all date them, care for them, cherish them as we should have from the beginning.” 

“And if they only want one of us?” questions Johnny. Kyle and John hum and turn towards the lieutenant.

Ghost takes in a deep breath. “Then that’s their decision and we’ll respect that.” The four men glance at one another as they think over the lieutenant’s words. 

Kyle is the first to react as he lets out a small chuckle. “It’ll make going on solo missions easier if I know one of you guys are taking care of them. I’m in.” 

Johnny nods. His lips turn slightly upwards. “It'll make spoiling them easier.” 

Price laughs which gets the rest of the boys to smile. However, his joy quickly soured as his laugh tapered into something broken. “Why didn’t we think of this sooner?” he mourns. Johnny and Kyle shake their head in understanding. Why didn’t they think of this sooner?

“It doesn’t matter now,” Ghost commands. He rises from his seat and takes control of the situation. “We’re soldiers. We fight. And right now, we’ll fight to keep our spy on our side.” 

And with that, the 141 are set ablaze, each one ready to convince you to stay. 

Word Count: 1155

More Thoughts - Next Thought

[runninguplenorahills]

“flashbacks, warm nights, almost left behind” - man I love time after time 🤧

I think the entire situation surrounding Max in s2 is so interesting because imo it ties the coming of age and sci-fi plot together. Not only does this new found interest in a girl signal that the boys are entering teenage hood, it also suggests that the boys are moving on from what happened in s1. And in both aspects, Mike is lagging behind.

Coming of Age:

Mike, Lucas and Dustin’s attitudes towards befriending a girl (and in this sense I do believe it is of significance that Max and El are both girls) are essentially reversed from s1 to s2. In s1 Mike is the one taking El in with Lucas thinking he’s crazy for doing so and Dustin not only being entirely baffled by El trying to change in front of them, but also shocked that Mike would let “a girl” stay the night. They both have their qualms about Mike’s decision while Mike seems to not be fazed by the fact that El is a girl; he lets her stay the night because she needs somewhere to stay, but also because he can’t inform his parents about her right away lest they all get in trouble.

In s2, while they’re all curious as to who MADMAX is at first, the minute they find out (that she’s a girl), Mike loses interest. Now it’s Lucas and Dustin at the forefront of wanting to befriend a girl, but this time specifically because they think she’s cool i.e.: are attracted to her. And the best part is that this “love triangle” is foreshadowed in the arcade scene when Dustin plays “Dragon’s Lair” where he needs to save a princess. He fails to do so and Lucas comments that he stays undefeated i.e.: Lucas managed to save the princess i.e.: Lucas gets with Max. Mike and Will however hang back in that scene; they’re not really concerned with saving a princess themselves (which also hints at the fact that Will’s curiosity surrounding Max was never attraction based).

The boys are thirteen now, they’re entering teenage hood, they’re growing up and, unlike when they were just kids/twelve, they should start being interested in girls. Only that it seems like Mike is the only one who isn’t. And it’s not like he just doesn’t care, no, he’s showing an intense aversion to the girl everyone else finds so endlessly endearing.

Mike is shown to literally lag behind everyone else (like op discussed) because he’s not attracted to girls (which then manifests into “not having grown up yet” and him forcing himself to be grown up in s3).

Sci-Fi:

S1 only takes place over the span of like a week and although it was traumatizing, it’s over. They got Will back, everything is fine. We can’t really hold it against Lucas and Dustin that they’re not really thinking about El anymore because they’ve only known her for such a short time. And them not being overly concerned about Will’s behavior makes sense because it’s been a year since any of that happened, they think the UD isn’t a threat anymore and it’s obvious that Will will show lasting effects of what happened. Mike however cannot seem to move on. Which makes perfect sense too though, because he was the most involved with El and furthermore, he clearly pushed her to her limits the most. Up until she sacrificed herself for them while addressing only Mike. And of course Will went missing while biking home from Mike’s place who is shown to have the most severe reaction (out of the party) to Will’s disappearance throughout s1.

Their respective behavior makes perfect sense, but when you’re the one radioing a dead girl whose death you blame yourself for every day and falling into a state of panic at every instance of unusual behavior from your best friend, seeing everyone else seemingly move on with life feels infuriating (which is why finding out that Will hasn’t moved on either feels comforting).

And this is where I personally believe that the Max situation does connect to El bc Mike clearly blames himself for El’s death. Him radioing El every day for a year screams survivor’s guilt and although he doesn’t seem to see Max as a replacement for El (like op pointed out), letting her join the party would still be indicative of a kind of readiness to take in someone new i.e.: forget about El and move on from her.

S2 comes to an end, El comes back, they close the gate for real this time, and now they can all move on. Oh wait, they can’t because the mindflayer isn’t actually gone which might suggest that Mike moving on in the coming of age department by dancing with and kissing El (a girl) is a deception as well.

Season 2 Mike definitely saw Max as a love rival for Will

Another Byler from Mike Wheeler's POV analysis—(Unrequited love trope edition).

Walk with me.

Sometimes I think about how when the party went trick-or-treating Mike specifically told Will that he, "should have checked with him" first before letting Max join them.

It's just a very peculiar moment. Why Will?

Even Will was confused by this, lol.

We know that Mike doesn't like Max in season 2 (for reasons we'll look into more), but why did he make this Will's problem/ responsibility? Especially after only knowing of her existence for 2 days at this point.

He wasn't angry at Lucas or Dustin—or at least, he didn't expect them to come to him for permission—otherwise he would have said something to them, too.

It was Will who he felt betrayed by and upset with.

Heck, go ahead and take a second look at the first screenshot provided above.

Does Mike look angry to you?

No—he looks forlorn.

Let me break it down for you:

I'll start by saying when the party learned of MADMAX the screename, they were all equally interested in knowing who it was.

But when Max is introduced to us as a character (and revealed to be a girl), we get markedly different reactions between the boys.

In the first frame, they have no idea who she is or what her name is. All they see is a new girl. (Played by Sadie Sink mind you, who is very pretty).

Look at Mike's face: he already looks sulky.

The second frame is after they learn her name is Max. Once again, all four boys show some level of interest, but Mike remains sulky.

Then we have the recess scene in which the boys are watching Max, which is very interesting.

Consider the blocking and body language in this frame:

Look at Will here: he's just as interested in Max as Lucas and Dustin are (even if his interest is not based on attraction). In fact, he's the main focus of this frame for some reason.

Mike is the only one who hangs back, and his body language is completely different from the other three (hands in pockets, meaning he is distanced). He has no interest whatsoever and his facial expression appears agitated.

Mike feels like the odd one out here.

Will fits in.

When they "lose the target" Will is the one who spots her and reinitiates the "watching." Once again, Will is the main focus of this shot and even seems to be showing the most interest; his expression is bright and engaged.

He runs with Lucas and Dustin to the wastebin while Mike trails behind begrudgingly, not wanting to be left behind.

It begs the question: why is Will the focal point among the four boys in a scene about looking at a girl, if he was never intended to be a love interest?

I argue it's because we're seeing this interaction from a very specific perspective—the perspective of Mike Wheeler, who is standing back and observing.

It's also worth noting that Will's change in demeanor and energy here is extremely apparent.

He is noticeably withdrawn and low in spirits this season due to his PTSD (both literal and metaphorical if you count the MF as a metaphor for trauma).

And Mike notices. He’s the one who points out that Will had been "quiet today"—a detail the others miss because they don’t watch Will the way he does.

Notice that Will is disengaged during the science lesson (before Max arrives), while the other three are nerding out. Will previously participated in the science fair—it typically interests him—but his mood is very low.

Then compare that with his immediate engagement when Max walks into the classroom, and the level of interest he showed during recess. Mike would certainly observe this shift, paying as much attention to Will as he does.

In fact, once the distraction of Max has passed and the principal comes to collect him, Will's body language retreats again; shoulders hunched, eyes downcast.

What conclusion do you think Mike would come to based off these few short interactions?

(And these are the only interactions Mike sees between Will and Max before trick-or-treating together the next day. Mike hasn't even spoken to her yet).

From Will's perspective, this girl is just a novelty: a light-hearted distraction from everything else going on, offering a spot of normalcy.

But from Mike's perspective, this is a pretty new girl showing up out of nowhere and immediately raising Will's spirits: something he felt like he failed to do.

And so it brings us to the trick-or-treating scene, in which Will (apparently) joins Dustin and Lucas in their enthusiasm for Max joining the party, while Mike hangs back and then begrudgingly follows, not wanting to be left behind.

Are we noticing the pattern?

Then we have Mike's confrontation with Will (this happens after Will is seen filming Max, btw). He tells Will he should have checked with him about Max joining them and that Max is, "ruining the best night of the year."

Uh... what? What did she do?

He then storms off: inentionally leaving Will behind this time.

(He wants him to know how that feels).

Following this interaction, Will has a big scare with the MF—and of course, it’s Mike who finds him first. Despite his mood, Mike is still attentive and protective.

Mike behaves possessively when he finds Will, not wanting the others to get involved. He takes Will “home” (his home) so they can be alone.

What follows is a scene that, put simply, is about reciprocation.

Interestingly, Mike’s attitude toward Max shifts after this scene with Will—he doesn’t have anything to say about Max joining the party in the AV room to look at Dustin’s pollywog.

This is the girl who apparently ruined Halloween.

You’d think he’d still be unhappy to see her.

But after that conversation with Will in his basement, Mike feels more secure and reassured about the state of their relationship.

He's no longer jealous.

So now, it's apparently fine for Max to be in the party.

Well, that changes again.

The next notable interaction is after Mike realises the pollywog is from the UD. Mike immediately goes into protective mode. It’s not Will who storms into the classroom to grab the trap—it’s Mike.

It’s also (presumably) Mike who locks Max outside of the AV room when they discuss this, yelling at her that she can’t come inside.

When she opens the door anyway, the pollywog escapes—and (of course) Mike blames her. No one else points fingers.

Now, the boys were hesitant to reveal any information about the UD for obvious reasons, but here we see the recurring theme in the Mike/Will/Max triangle: Mike’s protectiveness (and slight possessiveness) of Will.

So, a recap of Mike’s perspective so far:

First gripe: You’re hogging Will’s attention (possessive) Second gripe: You’ve compromised Will’s safety (protective)

Then we finally have the confrontation between Mike and Max:

It literally starts with Mike telling Max to leave because she's in the boys' room. (Similar to his "boys only" comment in season 3).

Let's not get it twisted: When Max finally asks Mike why he's been treating her the way he has been, he deflects.

Mike, who always has a ready opinion and is not afraid of confrontation, is not comfortable sharing the real reason why.

It’s commonly believed that Mike simply didn’t like Max because her presence reminded him of El’s absence—and I see it—but after a closer look, I no longer agree.

Firstly, I don’t think it’s fair to assume that Max would remind Mike of El (or rub salt in the wound of her absence) just because they’re both girls. Max and El couldn’t be more different—physically or otherwise—and that distinction feels intentional.

Mike would never compare Max to El, because to him, El is incomparable—a superhero who saved his (and Will’s) life.

Also, in Mike’s mind, El is still in the party—he lists her name off with the other members.

Max wouldn’t be a replacement.

He literally just stated that she would be an addition.

Secondly, Mike never actually makes this connection himself. He simply offhandedly mentions El when he’s trying to convince Max she’s not needed.

So why does he want her to stay away?

And when El is finally introduced (both through conversation and literally) to this dynamic, what happens?

Mike and Max begin to get along.

They share a smile.

If Mike’s issue with Max had anything to do with El, the scene wouldn’t have played out this way.

It’s classic misdirection.

The misdirection is so obvious they lean into it—even having El herself misinterpret Mike and Max’s relationship, becoming jealous.

She mistakenly assumes Mike is interested in Max, just like Mike mistakenly assumed Will was interested in her, too.

They’re giving the audience a warped perspective, urging us to look behind the curtain.

Mike’s behaviour towards Max fits perfectly into Byler’s shared arc in Season 2: Mike is attentive, protective, and possessive over Will, while Will—consumed by the MF—can’t fully reciprocate that attention.

The “crazy together” scene is the only time Mike receives the same energy back from Will the entire season.

I feel like people forget that when they talk about how cute Season 2 was for Byler. Cute from Will’s perspective, maybe (supernatural plot aside)—but for Mike?

We get multiple shots of Mike staring at Will or noticing his absence (Mike staring at Will’s empty desk being the most obvious example).

That’s called pining.

Will does not invite Mike to his house or show up uninvited—Mike does that. Will does not hold Mike’s hand—Mike does that. Will does not watch Mike closely or check in on him constantly—Mike does that. Will does not become possessive of Mike’s attention—Mike does that.

In fact, they play into this unreciprocated affection trope pretty blatantly—when Mike bares his heart to Will, tearfully recounting their first meeting, Will quite literally cannot respond because he’s possessed—even if he wants to.

Not to mention—Mike’s recount of their first meeting is also (thematically) about reciprocation:

“I asked if you wanted to be my friend. And you said yes. You said yes.”

Mike puts emphasis on the fact that Will said yes: the fact that Will reciprocated his feelings.

That is what he wants.

He wants validation that Will feels the same.

That Will won't leave him behind.

And what happens at the end of Season 2?

From a Byler perspective, this season is about Mike’s (seemingly) unrequited love for Will—and it directly influences Mike’s (very different) behaviour in Season 3.

So yeah.

Mike didn’t like Max because he was jealous, and coping with feelings for Will he feared were one-sided—and in his mind that was confirmed as true.

Why wouldn’t he be relieved to see El at the snowball dance?

Why wouldn’t he kiss her?

Why wouldn’t he immediately start dating her and pushing Will away?

[ahotknife]

okay. well. welcome to my genderweird adam manifesto. standard disclaimers: i’m not god, i’m not the author, i’m not the boss of you. this is one way to interpret things found in the text. you don’t have to interpret it this way. you don’t have to agree with me. stay tuned for part 2 — Ronan Lynch: Electric Boogaloo 🐦‍⬛

this interpretation, for me, is built primarily upon a few key moments.

exhibit a:

exhibits b & c:

exhibits d - g:

other things of note:

in BLLB adam is frequently described by others as “not” a boy, but something more, different, other, separate, a secret third thing that’s never explicitly named

adam is the only male psychic

adam lives under his father’s thumb, in circumstances that are inherently emasculating. adam’s mother is a non-entity. the conflict in the house exists between adam & robert—the discord exists between adam & robert. robert must be more of a man than adam—he won’t accept anything else. it is necessary for robert’s ego that adam be subservient, small, scared. it’s a crucial part of a young man’s development that they have the space/opportunity to exercise/build their masculinity. robert will not allow that—this means that adam must fit into a specific role when he is at home.

it’s noted that when gansey is polite, he takes control by using his manners. in contrast, “when adam was polite, he was giving something away.”

adam himself regularly observes that he is Not Like Other Boys, but instead some Secret Third Thing

all of his jobs are physical and extremely demanding, in typically male-dominated fields

in many ways he performs his masculinity, nowhere near as aggressively as ronan or as easily as gansey, but in a way that’s somewhat defensive, somewhat clumsy

in the same vein, he attributes gansey’s masculinity to his wealth and believes if he’d personally come from privilege he would have all the answers. also, he observes ronan’s relationship with masculinity & magic & is jealous of the way he’s able to present himself as A Dude despite the magic and its inherent otherness. adam isn’t able to do that, yet, and it bothers him. he wanted the only weird things about him to be the magic and the poverty, but it’s so much more than that

he puts himself in situations where he ends up being the one with power/the one who “wears the pants”, because it’s gratifying and validating for him to feel like he’s The Man

robert observes at one point that there’s “something not right about that boy” and that adam has “grown up into someone he doesn’t like very much”

adam fights gansey about moving into monmouth because he doesn’t want to “belong” to gansey. he specifically says: “i’m his [robert] now, and then i’ll be yours.” ownership of his body and autonomy over his person are a huge part of adam’s character and his journey. there’s also probably something to be said here about daughters & the way they are by and large expected to go directly from their father’s house to their husband’s house. the marriage pipeline—he identifies himself here as a housewife or a daughter, not in words, but in stating what he believes would become his role in life should he allow robert/gansey to be his parent/patron/landlord/supervisor

he’s often paralleled/yoked to blue in the text, which is partially about class, but blue observes that he “doesn’t go to aglionby like Other Boys went to aglionby” and she returns his compliment by saying “i think you’re pretty too”

trb chapter 20 when Ronan Who Isn’t Ronan outperforms him at groceries is just as much about him envying power and presence and masculinity as it is him envying money and privilege. that boy is better at being a boy than him—why can’t adam be a boy like that?

to sum up: i think he’s a little weird. i think he’s kind of like that tweet that’s like “im probably nonbinary but i have a job so i can’t worry about that rn”. i don’t necessarily read him as nb, but you get my point.

the other thing i think it’s really important to remember when taking this lens to adam is that he’s part of the gay community, but he’s not Culturally Queer. he collects lgbt friends in college like funko pops—he doesn’t think he’s one of them, he doesn’t think they’re capable of knowing or understanding him. he’s not assimilating himself into the culture/community—he’s hiding behind it—he’s identified marginalized people who “needed” him (where did he find you crying?) and has made himself their knight in shining armor.

i’ve said this before when analyzing adam’s character and i’ll say it again: he is going to possess a creeping sense of alienation and otherness for the rest of his life, and he is going to do everything other than think about or address it properly. he is going to be weird and insecure and A Secret Third Thing forever. hooray!

[apomaro-mellow]

CC Ransoms Steve 10

Part 9

Steve just smiled, hoping his pearly white would distract Jason while he thought of a perfect lie.

"This wouldn't have anything to do with why your car's in the school's lot?", he asked.

Steve didn’t completely dislike Jason. But he had always been pretty nosy. Add to that his holier-than-thou attitude and he really was the very last person he wanted to see today.

“What, did Munson kidnap you or something?”, Jason said playfully.

It was so hilarious, Steve snorted, if only to cover up the real laughter that wanted to burst forth. “No”, he said after clearing his throat. “He’s uh, just giving me a ride.”

"Munson?" Jason looked incredulous now. Like Steve had lost his mind. "You couldn't call anyone else? You had to get a ride from that freak?"

Steve bit back what he really wanted to say. Getting mad at Jason wouldn't help him nor the others. Instead, he rolled his window all the way down and leaned against the sill, trying to appear more easygoing than he felt right now.

"Look, while I got you, you see the game last week? What'd you think of the Bears?"

While Steve threw Jason off the scent, Eddie was getting the feeling that the pawn guy was doing just too much sniffing around. He didn't look as interested in what they'd brought in so far as he should have. And then he went to the back just to 'check something out'.

The boys were busying themselves with perusing the store but Eddie couldn't fight the itch he had. So he followed that instinct and followed the guy to the back. Eddie kept light on his feet and could hear him on the phone with somebody.

He didn't have to listen long to figure it out.

The guy was calling the cops on them. Stolen goods he said. Which, technically true. But damn.

Eddie did his best to appear casual as he walked back out, getting Jeff, Doug, and Gareth's attention.

"Out. Fuzz on the way", he said as calmly as possible but still speed walking back to the van, only to see Jason shitfucking Carver leaning against it, shooting the breeze with Steve.

"Wrap it up, we gotta split", Eddie said, getting in behind the wheel.

"Where's your manners, Munson?", Jason frowned.

"Bite me."

"Ignore him", Steve said. "I'll talk to you later, 'kay?"

Jason looked like he wanted to say more about the fact that Steve was about to ride off with the gang of freaks. But he appeared placated just enough to move away from the van so that Eddie could peel away from the curb.

"So what's up, did the dude buy it?", Steve asked.

"He called the cops on us, he thought this was all stolen!", Gareth exclaimed.

"Well...", Steve trailed off.

"Yeah, but HE didn't know that", Doug said.

"Alright, look, this is an easy fix", Steve said. "Just go to a different pawn shop. Easy-peasy. And we should stop for hot cocoa on the way back."

“How did this turn into us taking orders from Steve Harrington of all people?”, Gareth asked.

Eddie pinched the bridge of his nose. “When you start coming up with an actionable plan, we’ll follow your lead. Until then-”

“Steve’s got you whipped somehow”, Jeff pointed out. “Does he have dirt on you?”

"I am not whipped. Especially not by someone that can schmooze on up to the biggest asswipe in the school."

“Are you-are you jealous? Of Jason? Jason Carver?!”, Steve exclaimed.

“’m not jealous”, Eddie denied.

“Dude, seriously, what the hell?” Gareth felt like he was going insane.

Steve shook his head. “I’d be flattered if it wasn’t so stupid.”

Jeff wished there was an opportunity to talk to Eddie alone and figure out just what the hell happened between him and Steve because something had shifted.

"We're not talking about this because this isn't a thing. I'm not jealous of that blonde douchebag", Eddie said.

"Where are we going?", Steve asked.

"Back to your place. We gotta drop this loot before the cops catch us with it."

"And then what? You guys still need money, last I checked."

"That's kinda none of your business, Harrington", Gareth said.

"The hell it isn't! Did you forget how you literally jumped me and hit me with a car!?"

Steve unzipped his coat, then threw it towards the back before pulling up his shirt, revealing the extent of the damage. Eddie hit the brakes, making the van screech to a stop on a random suburban corner.

Eddie looked at Steve’s face, then at his bruised side. It was different when his actions held him back in school, kept him from getting a steady job, or something else.

“I’ve really fucked up.”

Jeff tried to speak up. “Eddie-”

“Don’t even try to deny it. I’ve been fucking up. Royally.”

Steve pulled his shirt down and Eddie took a moment. "We're gonna return your stuff. That's our first step."

"And the second step?", Doug asked.

"....We're gonna think about it."

-----------------

Steve didn't know how to feel as he watched all the items return to his house. He felt even more conflicted as Eddie ordered them to put it all exactly where they had found it. He decided to focus on what he could identify. And it was kind of hot watching Eddie give orders.

"So have you thought about it?", Steve asked once everything was back in place and they were all sagged in chairs.

"Yeah, I have", Eddie said, clasping his hands together. "The best course of action is to do one big score. One thing, pawn it off a couple cities away where our little bounty nor will our faces get recognized. With enough money we can fix up the van and join the competition."

“You guys couldn’t even burgle my house with my help. All of a sudden you think you can stage a heist?”

“I’ll be doing this mission solo”, Eddie said. “I just need everyone here to be my alibi.”

"I'm almost scared to ask", Jeff began. "But who's the mark."

"Only the richest guy in town", Eddie grinned like he didn't just drop a bomb.

Someone with a higher price than Steve. Someone who was Old Money. Someone whose family was just as old as this town. Who most certainly had a bunch of valuable trinkets that he'd surely never notice just one of them missing.

Eddie was going to rob Henry Creel.

Part 11

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