#I’m not looking to argue or anything just needed to vent

[jamietarttsdaddyissues]

Okay I’m going to say this and I’m going to say this once.

I do not like how the relationship with Jamie’s father was handled in season 3.

If they wanted to go the route of forgiveness they absolutely could have. If they wanted to go the route of his dad going to rehab they absolutely could have. Those are not inherently wrong or bad. It’s a show about forgiveness and I get that. It’s a comedy and Jamie is not the main character - I get that too.

My issue is this: the show went out of its way on multiple occasions to show just how violent and abusive James is. Just to give a few examples:

Repeated physical abuse

Repeated verbal abuse

Planning, funding, and likely pressuring the sexual abuse of his 14 year old son (a minor and below the age of consent in both The Netherlands and the UK regardless of the age of the girl in the red light district)

The willingness to beat Coach Beard (basically a stranger to him) with a metal pipe in a 3 to 1 fight in a back alley which could have realistically resulted in his death (and calling Beard “son” right before the final blow)

Jamie literally gave up his dream - a job as a professional footballer on a top hometown team - to leave the country on a trashy reality show just to get away from his father. The show traced a large portion of Jamie’s issues back to his relationship with his father. Not all of course - but that was a big theme of his growth and development.

So even if we entertain the notion that this stint in rehab was successful and James is sober - that’s great. That’s a storyline I wouldn’t mind hearing - IF we had the appropriate time to show it. But the thing is, we didn’t. This season was disjointed and rushed in many ways - and I’m not complaining - I still loved it. But if they’re going to tackle a topic this serious, they need to do it right. They need to be clear that alcohol was not the only problem James had and that sobriety does not absolve you of accountability. As important as it is to portray the message that all human beings can change, including addicts, it is equally as important to show the serious work that addicts in recovery put in to address the hurt that they caused through their addiction. It is not easy work to battle addiction and to mend relationships - sometimes part of recovery is accepting that you can’t mend things with everyone you’ve hurt and that is the right of the victim to decide how they feel.

We were shown none of this. What we got instead was:

A speech from Jamie’s mom about how he is still amazing despite his dad while still somehow crediting Jamie’s talent to his dad’s abuse

Ted telling Jamie to forgive his dad as he’s mid-panic about his safety and his dad’s location

Ted making a point to say the forgiveness was for Jamie’s sake, not for James - which was ALMOST good until they ruined it

Denbo and Bug suddenly supportive despite being just as violent as James in 2x09

James suddenly in rehab for 0.2 seconds

Jamie reaching out to his dad via text despite having no idea his dad is in rehab - something that is realistically compromising his physical and emotional safety

A quick clip of Jamie bonding with his father before the season/series ends for good

The reason I connected with Jamie so intensely from season 1 was the shared experience of abuse from my father. I want to be clear that I know I’m projecting - that’s what fandom is - and I in no way expected the show to end exactly as I wanted. However, this is what I would have liked to see as 1) an abuse survivor 2) a licensed therapist and 3) a person:

The message that you can heal without forgiving those who hurt you OR that you can forgive them and still not allow them back into your life (ESPECIALLY if it compromises your safety)

The message that sometimes people don’t change for the better and you can grieve that relationship while still fostering healthier ones elsewhere.

An emphasis on support systems and chosen family when someone doesn’t have the reality of a parent or partner getting better (we saw this with Bex seeking out Rebecca and Rupert’s assistant)

Instead of Man City suddenly cheering for Jamie, which felt insanely unrealistic, having the cheers of Richmond fans drown out the boos and verbal assaults of the Man City crowd - further emphasizing that despite the pain he has attached to Man City and his father, he has a home with Richmond.

So to wrap up this very long rant, I feel very disheartened by this part of the season. I still love Ted Lasso and always will - there were so many parts of this season I absolutely adored and wouldn’t trade for anything - but I feel that they dropped the ball on this one. Most people don’t get to repair relationships with abusive parents. Is it possible? Of course. Is it important to depict that it can happen? Absolutely. It’s a show about forgiveness. But they didn’t need to do it like this for Jamie’s storyline. They could have kept the speech about forgiving James for Jamie’s sake and deleted all of the rehab/texting afterwards. I still wouldn’t have been thrilled but it would have made more sense to me in context of the show. And it would have meant a lot more to me as someone who’s father is unlikely to ever stop being a risk to my safety.

This just felt bad. Jamie Tartt had one of the best arcs I’ve ever seen in media and he deserved better than that.

[navybrat817]

Knock You Down a Peg or Two

Pairing: Husband!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Someone learns the hard way that it's a bad idea to upset Bucky's wife.

Word Count: Over 1.5k

Warnings: Established relationship, violent threats (not against the reader), protective vibes, implied sexy times, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: I'm in a mood, lovelies. We can consider this in the same universe as Mr. and Mrs. Barnes and Handsome and Beautiful. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky was no longer the Winter Soldier. He told himself every day he wasn't a cold killer anymore. He did his best to make amends and worked hard to clear his name. From time to time though, people pushed his buttons and got under his skin. You helped him brush it off. Their opinions didn't matter at the end of the day, only yours.

You mattered to him more than anything else. So, if someone bothers him, yeah, he could let it go. Someone upsetting you? He wouldn't stand for it.

Bucky's eyes narrowed as he spotted the little weasel sitting at the table in the break room alone. A few hours ago, you called him to vent about how this guy repeatedly tried to make you look bad in front of your superior during a meeting. It wasn’t the first time either. Your tears of frustration were obvious by your tone on the other end, though you tried to hide them. You worked hard, harder than anyone else he knew, and you took your job seriously.

He saw red when he heard you sniffle and it was the only color he had seen since then.

“Give me his name.”

“Bucky, no,” you had argued. “The guy’s a prick and I just needed to vent, so you don’t-”

“Please, baby,” he whispered, knowing full well you could handle yourself, but you were his wife and someone took joy out of your day. Not just that, they made you cry. He took this personally and he wanted to defend you. “Just give me his name so I can take care of it.”

You softly gave him the name, and he made it a priority to find the asshole. It didn’t take him long. No one even questioned why he was asking. It must’ve been his “murder strut” and glare. You once said it could break even the strongest of people.

He headed toward the empty chair beside the agent, careful not to make a sound. His stealth assisted with that. Once he reached the chair though, he made it a point to scrap the chair across the floor to get the prick's attention. The annoyance in his eyes quickly shifted to fear when he realized who he was looking at.

Good. He hoped he pissed his pants.

He made a show of slipping off his leather jacket before taking a seat, making sure the agent got a good look at his metal arm. He also made a show of getting one of his knives out, one you gifted him. “I think we can skip the introductions since you know who I am and I really don't give a shit who you are,” he began, his voice low as he twirled the knife between his fingers. “But I understand you know my wife and, well, she’s the reason I’m here.”

The guy blinked when Bucky made eye contact, the blade still expertly weaving in his hand. “S-Sure. Everyone knows your wife.”

Bucky smiled softly, taking a second to glance at his wedding band. “I’m usually not one to brag, but I can’t help it when it comes to her. She works hard and deserves all the praise she gets, but she’s still humble. Appreciative. Loyal,” he boasted, still smiling before he glared again. “She’d never throw anyone under the bus, especially in front of a superior.”

The little weasel cleared his throat, sitting up a bit straighter in his chair. He seemed to notice for the first time that they were the only two people there. “Look, I don’t know what your wife said, but-”

Bucky pointed the blade at him. “I would think very carefully about what comes out of your mouth next,” he snarled, his eyes as cold as ice.

There was a beat of silence as the guy squirmed in his seat and averted his gaze. Bucky wished you were there to see it. And Steve and Sam. “I may have run my mouth a bit. I just wanted to knock her down a peg or two, you know? She keeps getting promoted and…” he swallowed when Bucky’s eyes narrowed to slits. If this fucker even thought about implying that you slept your way to get where you were today, he may actually cut his throat. “Please, don't kill me.”

The silence after that statement may have been uncomfortable for some, but Bucky didn’t break a sweat. No, he was just thinking of all the different ways he could put him in the hospital for even thinking he had a right to put you down. Putting the knife away, he slowly got to his feet. “Get up,” he said quietly, flexing his hands in intimidation.

“Fuck.” The man nearly knocked his chair over as he stood. “Listen, I’m sorry,” he blurted out, putting his hands out in front of him. “I’ll apologize to her first thing tomorrow, I swear.”

“You think that makes up for it? And are you sorry for trying to make her look bad or are you sorry that you’re under my radar now?” Bucky’s stare remained steady as he knocked his chair out of the way, the piece of furniture nearly splintering when it hit the wall. “Everyone knows what I'm capable of, but do you know what happens to people who upset. My. Wife?”

Bucky refused to say that you cried. The asshole might take that as a sign of victory and he wouldn’t give him any sort of win. He didn’t deserve it. He didn't deserve to be in the same space as you.

The guy’s mouth parted as he took a few steps back on shaky legs. “I-It won’t happen again! I swear!”

“No, it won't, but how about I cut your tongue out so you can’t run your mouth again? Maybe pull out your teeth, too?” Bucky knocked the table away next as he advanced. “Or how about your eyes so you won’t look at her either. Hell, I’ll settle for taking your arm. We’ll match.”

The man let out what sounded like a whimper, his teeth nearly chattering from his fear. Scaring people had given him nightmares, haunted him, but it fueled his fire when he terrified anyone in your honor. “I won’t bother her ever again! I’ll tell my boss she deserves another promotion! I'll transfer! You have my word! I’m sorry!”

Bucky laughed after a moment, a bitter, chilling sound before he held up a hand. “I’m just fucking with you.”

His eyes were still wide with fear. “W… What?”

“I was just trying to scare you a little. You should see the look on your face,” Bucky chuckled again, lightly smacking the guy’s cheek. “Listen, you don’t have to transfer and I’m not going to torture you. Just apologize to my girl and we’re good, okay?”

“Okay.” He let out a breath and chuckled, too. “You really won’t torture me?”

“No, I won’t,” he grinned, grabbing his shoulders. “But I will knock you down a peg or two.”

The prick didn’t see the headbutt coming, but he felt it before he hit the ground. Bucky knew he’d feel it in the morning, too. He got off lucky.

“You know, after you apologize to my wife, I hope you do stay so you can see her continue to thrive,” Bucky toed the guy’s body with his boot. “And speaking of, I need to go buy her some flowers, chocolate, and wine. She deserves it.”

Grabbing his jacket from the broken chair across the room and brushing it off, he whistled as he left the room. He waited until he was a good distance away to call. You picked up on the second ring.

“Hey.” You sounded much better than you did earlier. “So, what’s the damage?”

“Hey, baby,” he smiled. “I headbutted the prick. And before you ask, my head feels great.”

The former assassin may get suspended for that and damaging the table and chair, but he doubted the asshole would have the balls to speak up about what happened.

“Bucky…” you sighed. You were probably pinching the bridge of your nose. “What am I gonna do with you?”

“You’re gonna let me eat you for dessert when I get home,” he smirked. Not that he needed an excuse to dive between your legs, but he'd take any chance he had. “Figure I'll give you at least two orgasms before dinner.”

“Is that right, Mr. Barnes?”

“That is right, Mrs. Barnes.”

The sound of your giggle spread warmth through his chest. Your happiness was his happiness. “Better not keep me waiting,�� you teased, pausing for a beat. “Thank you.”

“Nothing to thank me for,” he said. You always stuck up for him without question.

“Love you.”

His heart swelled more. “Love you, too.”

He’d have some more explaining to do once he got home and would probably have to pay for the damage he caused. He was also sure that you were plotting the demise of the man’s career and would tell him that he didn’t need to do anything, but he wanted to. He was no longer the Winter Soldier.

But he was your husband and he’d defend you with his life, no matter what.

Violence isn't the answer, but this is fanfiction and we all deserve a loving Bucky. ❤️ Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[fastandcarlos]

Nothing Lasts Forever : ̗̀➛ George Russell

summary: left abandoned once again, you find yourself wondering whether your relationship with george really can last forever

Your eyes widened in disbelief as you walked back into your apartment to see George sat absentmindedly on the sofa, scrolling through his phone. He didn’t even look as you walked through the door, only when you cleared your throat did he acknowledge that you were there. His eyes studied you closely, admiring the dress that you wore, before reality smacked him in the face.

You were all prepared for date night with George, heading down to the restaurant early to make sure that you got a table by the window overlooking the beach, where George always loved to sit. That table was where you sat for almost an hour, hoping that George was only running late, but he never did show up.

It wasn’t the first time recently when George had forgotten you, your plans together seemed to be bottom of his list of priorities. George’s eyes were wide as he realised why you were dressed so nicely, silently cursing himself for messing up yet again and forgetting about you.

Your movements around the apartment were silent, almost pretending as if George wasn’t there. You took off your heels, hung up your bag and got yourself a glass of water, heading straight for your bedroom. George faintly called out your name, but as he expected, he was completely ignored by you.

You didn’t have anything to say to him, yet again you’d been left to look like a fool whilst George basked in his job. George wasn’t prepared to just let you walk away though, standing up from the sofa and following you into the bedroom. Although as he did, he almost wished that he didn’t.

“Babe, I know sorry isn’t good enough right now, but I’m so sorry that I forgot,” he hurriedly told you, but his apologies were far from good enough for you.

“Can you just leave me alone?” You asked, keeping yourself surprisingly calm.

“Just talk to me, please,” George whispered in reply.

“I don’t want to.”

George knew he was going to be far from in your good books, but the harsh tone in which you spoke to him took him by surprise.

You’d had your moments, but this was the first time you’d really vented your frustrations to George. You’d had enough of being second best, of being forgotten and embarrassed by him. You knew where you stood with George, and you weren’t going to let yourself stay there any longer.

You tried to ignore his presence as you moved around the bedroom, knowing exactly what your next step was.

George’s heart stung as he watched you open up your wardrobe, pulling a small suitcase out in amongst the mess that you had in there, picking it up and throwing it onto your bed to unzip it. He didn’t need to be told what happened next, struggling to keep himself composed as he watched you start to grab a few bits.

You didn’t care though, you wanted George to feel the hurt that you did.

“Love, what are you doing?” George nervously asked, hoping that what he saw before him was a completely different plot to the one he feared. “You don’t need to do this, let’s just talk about it.”

“There’s nothing to say,” you argued, “I’m fed up of feeling like I mean nothing to you.”

George desperately wanted to reach out and stop you doing what you were doing, but you were avoiding him at every turn, refusing to give him the chance.

As you grabbed a pair of shoes, you spoke again. “I can’t keep being treated like this George, I need some time to decide if I can do this anymore.”

“Do what? You mean us? Being together?” He quizzed, all of his thoughts tumbling out of his mouth as George began to lose control.

“Yes,” you bluntly replied with a sigh, “this isn’t the sort of relationship I deserve to be in right now George.”

The look on George’s face dropped.

“Where are you going to go? You can’t just leave.”

“I can’t be here with you right now,” you sighed, throwing the last of your essential bits into your suitcase. You quickly zipped it up and picked up your phone. George tried to reach out for the case to stop you, but you were too quick, swiping it away and heading for the door. You blocked out the many calls of your name as you slipped on the same pair of shoes you had taken off only minutes earlier.

George rushed over to the door, trying his best to pin it shut as you approached, but your head shook, silently asking him to just let it go. He reluctantly stepped aside, but not before taking a hold of your hand, struggling to keep his emotions in check.

“I-I love you,” George whispered, squeezing tightly onto your hand. "Please don’t do this,” he pleaded, sniffing back the tears that threatened to fall. “I’m sorry I ever made you feel this way, but I don’t know what I’ll do without you here.”

“It’s for the best that I do this George.”

His head shook as you slipped your hand out of his hold, smiling weakly across at him.

“Who is this best for? It’s not for me.”

“I’m not here to just be forgotten George.”

You quickly closed the door behind you before allowing your first tear to fall.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

A heavy sigh came from you as you woke up the following morning, looking around the apartment of your best friend. You’d barely slept as you wondered whether leaving your home was the right call, or if you’d moved to hasty.

George meant everything to you, you were two of the most popular people around the paddock, but you were starting to feel more and more distant from him. It wasn’t the first time George had forgotten about you or made you feel like you didn’t matter to him, but you couldn’t stand back and let yourself be treated like a toy anymore. George either wanted you, and to spend time with you, or he didn’t.

It didn’t take long before your phone buzzed beside you again. Most of the night you’d been met with texts or calls from George, wishing you to come home. You’d tried your best to ignore them, but if George was one thing, he was definitely persistent.

After letting his call almost ring through once again, you decided to grab your phone, pressing the green button in the centre of your screen. “George,” you whispered, hearing a sharp intake of breath come from the other end of the line.

“Babe,” George sighed, throwing his head back in relief as he sat on your shared bed at home. You waited and waited for George to speak, but you were met with silence, unaware of George trying to find the right words to say.

“What is it George?”

“I just wanted to know when you’re coming back,” he finally spoke, “home.”

“It’s not as easy as just coming back George,” you huffed, brushing your hand over the top of your head. “We can’t just carry on like nothing.”

“You mean you’re not coming back?” George quizzed, his voice faltering as he spoke, “you’re not coming back…ever?”

“I don’t mean ever, I just need some space,” you tried your best to calmly assure him, “I need to think about whether this is really what I want or not.”

“Y-you’re not breaking up with me, are you?” George frantically asked, feeling tears threaten to spill once again.

“No, I’m not breaking up with you George, I just think we both need a bit of time to think about what our priorities are and figure out whether a relationship is for the best.”

“I already know it’s for the best, I’d be lost without you,” George quickly spoke.

“I don’t know if it’s the best for me,” you honestly admitted.

“Well, if time is what you need, I guess I’m going to have to give it to you, to fight for us.”

“Thank you, George.”

“I love you,” he whispered, knowing that he was moments away from losing all contact from you for however long you needed.

“I love you too.”

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Around the paddock people barely recognised George for the next couple of weeks. He barely spoke to anyone except for when someone mentioned your name, hoping that someone had heard from you. But no one ever had though. He was left wondering constantly, anxiously awaiting a call or text from you.

Beside him, Lewis watched George closely, as he had done throughout. He could see better than anyone how hard George was being on himself.

“What do I do if I never hear from her again?” George asked him nervously.

Lewis’ head shook as he rested his hand against George’s shoulder. “You can’t think like that. She wanted you to show her that you prioritise her, so that’s what you’ve got to try and do, right?”

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Despite your frustrations with George, you couldn’t help but keep up with everything going on. You still watched all the races, tried your best to watch their interviews, despite what had happened, many of the drivers you watched were still your friends.

As you caught up with what happened during the race in Austria, you couldn’t help but glance up at the screen as you heard the presenters mention that they were cutting to the media pen with George ready to interview.

Your heart stopped as he appeared on the screen, he was far from the usual George that you saw. His hair was messy, his smile was nowhere in sight, for the first time ever he looked as if he didn’t want to be there, the man who adored racing almost appeared as if he’d fallen out of love with it.

You couldn’t quite believe the version of George that you saw in front of you, it was unlike anything you ever saw before. Even when the interviewer tried to offer him a smile, George was unresponsive, like it didn’t even matter.

“George, P5 today in tricky conditions, you don’t look particularly pleased with the points, were you expecting something more from the race today?” She smiled, extending the microphone out to him.

“I’m happy with the race, it was the best that I could do,” George shrugged, “but racing isn’t the most important thing in the world, is it? I love my job, but there’s things that I love more which aren’t going well right now, that’s probably why I don’t look thrilled. There’s a few things that I need to fix, I’ve been reminded too much recently that as great as this is, it’s not the most important thing in the world to worry about."

You sunk down in your seat as George spoke, brushing your hands over your face as his words sunk in. You’d never heard him speak like that before, but now that he did, you realised just how important you truly were.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Your knocks were impatient as you stood outside of the apartment door, knowing that George had returned home only a few moments earlier. Your heart was racing, even if everything was familiar, you were still stood in front of your home, even if it didn’t quite feel like it.

Your body tensed up as the front door opened, a dishevelled looking George staring back at you. He blinked several times, almost as if he needed to convince himself that it was really you in front of him.

“Hi,” he fumbled, “I wasn’t expecting to see you here, everything alright?”

“Can we talk?” You anxiously asked, nervously playing with your fingers, unable to bring yourself to meet George’s eyes.

“I…of course,” he smiled, inviting you in. “I was hoping I’d get the chance to speak to you, to tell you just how much you mean to me and how sorry I am for every making you feel as if I don’t care about you, or that you’re not the most important thing in my life.”

“I know you feel that way now.”

“Seriously?”

You nodded as you took a step closer to George, allowing your hand to slowly take a hold of one of his.

“Maybe I overreacted a little, I shouldn’t have just walked away.”

George’s head shook, he knew now that walking away was what you needed.

But he secretly always hoped that you’d go back to him, and he was beyond thrilled to finally have you home again.

George’s arms snaked around your waist, pulling you as tight into him as he possibly could. His head buried into the crook of your neck, refamiliarizing himself with the comfort of you again.

He refused to let you go, holding you tighter than he ever had done before.

“Will you come back home?” George whispered into your ear, “I don’t think I can spend another night here without you.”

“Of course, I will.”

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[cameronspecial]

I thought about Rafe and reader having a fight or heated argument and their child is scared that they will get a divorce

Divorce

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Arguing

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.6K

Masterlist

Loud screams coming from downstairs cause Colin to wake up from his dream where he is a firefighter. In fear a monster is in the house, he goes running to his parents’ room. The bed is empty and terror grows. What if the monster ate Mommy and Daddy? He rushes down the stairs in hopes they will be there. While on the steps, he recognizes the sources of the yells. He freezes where he stands. “I don’t understand what is so hard for you to understand. There is nothing going on between Heather and me. She is just my assistant,” Rafe argues. Through the bars, Colin can see his mommy’s eyes roll. She chuckles, “It’s not that I think you are doing something with her. I don’t like the way she looks at you. I know she wants a bite of you and I’m not sharing.” Colin has never heard his Mommy use such an angry tone. He remembers something his friend said about her parents screaming a lot before they got a divorce. Now, she can’t see her mommy or daddy every day. He has to stop this; he can’t let his parents get a divorce. 

Tiny feet slapping against the hardwood floor causes both parents to turn their heads in the direction of the stairs. Small blue eyes stare up at them with tears at the edge of his long eyelashes. “Colin, Sweetie, what are you doing up?” Y/N questions, bending over as he runs into her arms. His short arms wrap around her neck and she picks him up while she stands straight. Even if they are arguing, Rafe doesn’t hesitate to step forward and rest his left hand on Y/N’s hip and the right hand on Colin’s back. 

Colin’s head buries into his mother’s neck, “You and Daddy no get a divowce.” Warm tears begin to stain her neck. Rafe’s head tilts to the side. “Why do you think that’s going to happen, Buddy?” Her fingers flatten the hair on the back of the little boy’s head. “You and Mommy fight,” he muffles against his mom. The mother coos at her son, “Aww, Sweetie. Just because Mommy and Daddy have a little disagreement, it doesn’t mean that we are going to get a divorce.” “Weally?” he confirms, looking up at her through teary eyes. Rafe jumps in, “Yeah, Buddy. I know it sounds like Mommy and I are very angry at each other, but we really love each other and I, for one, know that we can overcome anything.” Y/N presses her lips to her son’s cheek. “Daddy and I can. I may not like how Ms. Heather looks at Daddy; however, I trust your Daddy and I know he loves me very much. Sometimes, Mommy needs to vent to Daddy a little bit,” she adds. 

This little pep talk seems to appease the worried boy and his breathing steadies. “You pwomise no divorce?” he confirms. Rafe nods with a smile, “I promise, Buddy. Now, how about we go night night. You can sleep in our bed tonight.” The little boy lights up with a grin. “Yayy!” Y/N sets down her son and gives his bum a little tap toward the stairs. “Why don’t you go get your T-rex and head to our bed? We will meet you upstairs,” she suggests, laughing as he runs to the second floor. She turns to her husband, “You know I trust you, right? She just makes me feel uncomfortable.” He presses his lips to her forehead and pulls her in for a hug. “I know. I understand how you feel and I’ll see if I can transfer her to another department. Not because I want her to stay, but because I can’t fire her for no reason,” he says. She nuzzles into his neck, “Thank you. How about we get upstairs so we can snuggle our baby boy to sleep?” 

He guides her in their movements to their room. “Let’s. I love you.” Her head falls on his shoulder, “I love you too.”

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura @rubixgsworld

[revelboo]

Hi hi hi HIIII!!!

hope you're having a wonderful day!! very grateful and happy for the little treats you give us it's like bedtime stories for me HHHHH-

not a request, please take your time and don't stress since you already have a bunch of stuff going on, i was just wondering if we'd get a continuation for that delicious Rodimus fic (so yum yum) (against don't stress about it)

have a wonderful night 🫶🏻

Thank you! They’re all ongoing, I’m just superbly terrible at tracking what needs to be updated next

Attractive Today Pt 4

MTMTE Rodimus x Reader

• Slowly that panic on his face recedes and he leans sideways, shoulder thumping against the wall as his big hands shake. And you stop rambling and pace closer to the edge, sitting down with your legs dangling, aware of him watching you. “I didn’t know big, alien robots can have panic attacks,” you say, listening to his ragged venting. He slides down to sit, drawing his legs up and covering his face with his hands, looking suddenly so achingly young.

• “I wasn’t having a panic attack,” he mutters, feeling the tremors still coursing through him, but the danger is past. You talked him down somehow, distracted him. Kept him from hurting anyone else. Has anyone else been able to rein him in like that besides Optimus? Interlacing his servos, he looks up at you leaning out from your perch. No longer afraid of him, when you should be more terrified.

• “Looked like a panic attack to me.” Leaning your elbows on your knees, you swing your legs and he scowls up at you. Just sitting on the floor staring at you. “Want to talk about it?” Not that you’re surprised at all when he shakes his head at you. But then, had you ever wanted to talk about it after when irrational panic seized you by the throat? No, you’d always been left feeling embarrassed and almost ashamed by the attacks. Like something was wrong with you and your shoulders ease, because you at least have something in common with him. A starting point.

• “We can’t take you back,” he says and your swinging legs still. “Not yet, but I promise I’ll try to get you home.” Watches you tip your head back to stare at the ceiling and waits for you to get mad at him. To argue or cry. Not expecting you to slump back so all he can see is your dangling legs. Slowly standing, he walks over and leans over you. Guilt twisting about his spark as you stare at nothing, hair spread out around your head.

• Eyes opening to find him looming over you, his hands on either side of you, there’s not even the energy to be upset because he looks so genuinely upset about it. And you believe him, believe he’ll do everything he can to get you home. Not even bothering to sit up, you hold up your fist a pinky extended. “If you promise, you have to keep your word.” Know you can’t hold him to anything, that you have no power here, but he just looks from your face to your hand and reaches to gingerly touch his own servo to your pinky with a look so serious you almost start laughing, because it’s that or cry.

Previous

[lockheed-martin-unofficial]

Starscream is given a bath, Part 4:

Bet y’all thought I was done with this. I’m not done, I was just stuck on this part for a really long time. It wasn’t going the way I wanted it to, but then again, I always have doubts when it comes to Starscream’s characterization.

Anyway, it ended up being pretty long. 1298 words. I’m not all too satisfied with it, but I gotta just post it and move on.

Part 3: here

——————————————————————————

“Starscream.”

He opened his optics once more, taking a few seconds to recalibrate. It appeared that he had actually fallen into a recharge without noticing. He looked down at himself, seeing that his arms and chest were looking…shinier than usual. He flexed his digits, touching the tip of every talon to his thumb. She’d done a good job, for a human. Collecting himself but still feeling a little drowsy, Starscream looked down at her.

“Yes? What is it?”

“I need to clean your vents.”

He bristled at that statement, his expression quickly turning sour. “You don’t need to do that.” He waved a servo, wings flattening behind his back.

“Come on, would you rather be breathing dirty air for the rest of your life?”

“My cooling system cleans itself.” He huffed. “I thought you knew that by now.”

“Your air filtration and internal components do. The vents don’t. They’re external.” Damnit, why did she have to know so much about cybertronian biology? The human reached up, her hands grabbing onto the vents on both sides of his face and tugging on them. He grumbled at that, still wanting to avoid this wretched fate. Nevertheless, he allowed her to pull him down. He knew by now that arguing would be pointless.

“I won’t get any water in, I’m just gonna run a towel over them.” She let go of him, stepping out of the bathtub. She quietly walked to a cabinet, opening it and grabbing a soft little towel. The human ran some warm water over it, before squeezing out the excess and returning to him.

“Lean on the side of the tub, please?”

He didn’t say anything, but did as told. His wings were hanging low, as flat as they possibly could be. Seriously? Did he hate vent cleaning that much?

“This won’t hurt a bit, I promise.”

He only grumbled in response.

The human brought the towel up to him, first rubbing it over his faceplate to wipe off anything that wasn’t cleaned by the initial run of water. She cleaned him with the soft cloth using one hand, the other holding onto the side of his vent intake to keep him still. Starscream had shut his optics as tightly as possible, not moving an inch during this part of the cleanup.

“That’s nice, isn’t it?” She asked, her voice gentle as if talking to a child. “Doesn’t that warmth feel so soothing, Starscream?”

“Don’t patronize me.” He replied, his voice muffled from the towel she kept rubbing on his face. The human just chuckled at the sight.

“Now if you just tilt your head back, I can move on to the vents.”

He did as instructed, but she could easily see how tense he was. Starscream’s servos gripped the sides of the bathtub, holding himself still. She tilted his chin up ever so slightly, noting that the seeker still refused to open his optics. Slowly and being as gentle as possible, she pressed the towel into his vents, using her fingers to assist in cleaning any grime off the grilles. The process went smoothly for the most part, Starscream obviously uncomfortable but managing to keep himself still. All the way until-

He yelled and kicked up the water when she touched a bad spot, his servos finding and gripping her wrists as he pulled her away from himself.

“That’s enough touching, thank you very much.” Starscream scrambled away to the other corner of the tub, a flash of irritation on his faceplate and a defensiveness to his mannerisms.

“Hang on, I think I saw something in there.”

The seeker wrapped his arms around his frame, pulling his knees all the way up to his chest. The human let out a soft sigh, sitting on the side of the tub and trying to sound as gentle as possible.

“Do you want me to get it?”

He met her gaze and the look on his faceplate momentarily shifted as though she’d just offered to rip his spark out. Then, his expression changed again to one of contemplation. He knew this was going to hurt. But he also knew that he was going to feel much worse over the long run if she didn’t get it out. Could she really, though? Get it out?

Starscream could tolerate pain, best to just get it over with. Better her than asking the Autobots for help. Fine, he’d trust her to get it out.

“Fine. Just… be quick about it?” He asked, a hint of vulnerability creeping into his voice.

The human nodded, and Starscream shuffled back to his previous spot, unusually timid. He was partially acting, pretending to be more scared than he actually was with the hope that it’d earn him a gentler touch.

“Try not to make any sudden moves, alright? I won’t lose a finger if you flinch, not there, but please… be mindful of your strength.”

“Right. The usual.” He replied with a tiny chuckle and a subtle crack of his voice.

Evidently, it had worked. She held his faceplate between her hands, positioning it just right so she could see inside the grilles- which he had feathered to a 90-degree angle for better access.

“Thank you.”

She leaned forward, peering inside. Once she had a good look at the piece of debris, she spoke up.

“Okay, I’m gonna start now. Don’t panic.”

Starscream didn’t resist, just kept his optics shut hoping that this would all be done soon. Carefully, the human reached her fingers inside- this felt weird. This felt so weird. Cooling vents were not supposed to have anything solid entering them. Not so deep. Even though he knew the human’s hand was there to help him, that she was not a threat, he had to clench his servos in order to ignore every coded instinct telling him to keep his vents clear, to remove the obstruction that was her hand immediately.

He was so focused on keeping still that he didn’t even realised she was done until his temperature regulation system suddenly stopped yelling at him. Hesitantly opening his optics once more, he was met with the sight of the human looking down at him, a shard of metal in her hand covered in dried energon.

The first thing he felt was relief, as he took in a strong intake of air and a slight smile found its way to his faceplate.

That hadn’t hurt all that much.

“See? Got it out. didn’t hurt too much, I hope.”

Seeing as he didn’t reply, she continued.

“But I think it left behind a cut, do you need me t-“

Oh no. He knew exactly what she was going to ask, and he wouldn’t allow it.

“No, no need!” he suddenly cut her off, and grabbed the piece of shrapnel from her hand, examining it. “If this is all that was in there… my frame will be able to repair any leftover damage on its own now.”

He turned his gaze back down to her.

“As helpful as you have been, I’d rather not have you rooting through my internals any longer than you absolutely have to. Especially there.” he explained, an aversion of his optics accompanying that last word. He didn’t want to seem rude, especially after all this human had done.

“Hmm, that’s fair. I guess I see why it’d be uncomfortable if our roles were reversed.”

He was relieved at her understanding. Well, his problem was solved. He should probably thank her for that. Starscream scoffed. He was doing too much thanking today.

“I’m…grateful. For the help.”

She smiled. Huh. There she went again. He could really get used to that.

“Don’t mention it. Must’ve been painful. And besides, it’s not time to thank me yet. We’ve still gotta do your wings.”

[seravphs]

ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — MIYA OSAMU x FEM READER

On a bad day, Onigiri Miya becomes your new comfort restaurant. Not only is the food good, but the man who takes your orders is always kind. You think the Miya you’ve been venting to on the phone is the same Miya who shows up at your door to deliver all of your orders.

It’s too bad you don’t know there’s two of them.

wc — 2k

tags — fluff, romcom, miscommunication, miserable corporate girl x small business owner who teaches her joy

The email doesn’t even do you the courtesy of being short. They make you read through two whole paragraphs before you get to the point of it all in the final sentence. 

Your termination is effectively immediately. 

You sit back in your chair to allow yourself a moment to take it in. It’s…not terrible, all things considered. 

You get to leave this job that you hate. They’ll pay you severance. You have enough savings to be comfortable for the next few months. 

It might even a blessing.

But it still doesn’t feel good. You worked hard to land this, and now you’ll have to start all over again. Change is always hard, especially when you haven’t asked for it. 

You look at the clock. It’s currently 8:30 in the morning. You’re giving yourself exactly twenty four hours to wallow, and then it’s back to business. 

First things first - a good meal. Food always make everything better, and you really deserve something special today. For a moment, you entertain the idea of calling your friends over to get breakfast somewhere fancy, but then you remember - 

They’re all at work. 

Where you would be, if you hadn’t just been let go. 

That does sting a little, so maybe you’re not as okay as you thought you were. Hurriedly pushing those thoughts to the side in favor of scrolling through your options, a plain blue banner catches your eye. 

Onigiri Miya, it reads. 

Japanese comfort food. Family owned. 

When you click on the link, it takes you to a page that’s as simple as it’s name. It’s just a menu and a series of pictures, but it’s what you need right now. Your head hurts. You don’t have the capacity to deal with anything more. 

You want something straightforward and easy to digest. Onigiri Miya it is, then. 

“‘Miya speakin’. What can I get ya?” 

It’s a pleasantly accented voice. When you rattle off your order, you suddenly find it a little less pleasant after he says, “Er. Ya sure?”

This is some shoddy customer service. 

“I’m placing the order, aren’t I?”

“Those two don’t normally go together,” he says. “I’d suggest number nine and number thirteen instead. Trust me.” 

You don’t trust him, actually. This is probably just an upselling tactic he tries on every customer, but you’re not in the mood to argue. You had thought when you called a family owned restaurant, you’d be speaking to some kindly old grandma who might let you cry and vent into the receiver for just a little while, not whoever this is. 

At least the delivery is quick. 

A series of sharp raps on your door alerts you to the arrival. You pull it open to a man in a baseball cap and a uniform with onigiris on both. Their merch is cute. You’d wear it unironically. 

Underneath the cap, yellow blonde hair peeks out. On his shirt, a name tag reads Miya. 

Instantly, you feel a little worse for thinking poorly of him. Your bad attitude from work is no reason to take it out on this hardworking entrepreneur who’s running a one man show by himself. 

“Here ya go,” he says, thrusting a paper bag at you. “Eat it while it’s hot!” 

And then he’s off, scampering back down the stairs instead of taking the elevator even though you’re several floors up. You suppose there’s a reason he has those thighs. 

That the food is good is an understatement. 

Your former coworker Aiko used to work in food advertising before she pivoted. She loved to talk about how fake the industry was during lunch, both in terms of people and actual product. It’s through her that you know that half of the food in commercials aren’t actually food, but styrofoam and plastic painted to look appetizing. 

Onigiri Miya, in contrast, doesn’t look perfect. Appetizing, certainly, but not like a work of art. It just looks like what it is - a ball of rice with special ingredients for flavor.

So why are you crying as you finish your first onigiri and reach for the next? 

It’s been so long since you had a home cooked meal. You’re trying not to be maudlin, but you can almost taste the love that went into everything you’re eating. Imagining Miya carefully packing each triangular ball of rice by hand with a smile has you reaching for another, then another, until eventually the entire order is gone before you know it. 

Exhausted from crying and eating, you sink into your couch with a satisfied sigh and fall asleep. 

It’s 1:30 P.M. by the time you rise again, feeling a little better. Sleep really was the cure to all evils. Now you have 20 hours left to indulge yourself as much as possible. 

You’re not in the mood to turn off your brain by binge watching a show. You want to do something. You want to use your hands to craft something from scratch. 

Learning how to make onigiri could be a start. A quick run to the grocery store and the first recipe that popped up on Google later, you have a half formed, crumbling mound of rice with pickled radish shoved inside. If you squint, it looks almost like what you got from Onigiri Miya this morning. 

Who are you kidding?

That’s an insult to Miya’s craft. He put so much care into each dish - you can hardly compare your shoddy workmanship to his. There’s only one thing to do. You have to taste the real thing again to see where you went wrong. 

“Miya. What d'ya want to order?” 

“I’d like-“

“Hold up. Didn’t ya call this morning?” 

Flustered, you nearly fumble your phone. You’re breathless as you clutch is tighter and bring it back to your ear. “Yeah,” you admit sheepishly. “Is that bad?” 

“I mean, yeah, a little,” Miya says. “I appreciate the business but ya shouldn’t be eatin’ onigiri for two meals a day. Yer going to make yerself sick.” 

“It’s a special day,” you tell him. “I got laid off.” 

In the resounding silence that follows, you have ample time to berate yourself for sharing that. What is wrong with you? Why would you say that? He’s a stranger that you’ve randomly dumped your misery onto and you’re sure he’s -

“Ouch,” he says. “‘Kay, I’ll make an exception just for today. What’s yer order?” 

Miya shows up at your door promptly. He’s ditched the cap so his yellow hair is on full display. It looks like he’s run his hands through it. It sticks up at odd angles. 

“Here ya go,” he says, almost distractedly as he hands you your bag. “Enjoy.” 

You bring the bag inside and start rummaging through it immediately, excited to try new flavors you hadn’t gotten the first time around. Out comes the four onigiri you had ordered, a cup of miso soup, and…

A little takeout container of sushi with a cat’s face drawn on it. A speech bubble next to its head reads, “You can do it, meow!” 

Laughter echoes around your apartment. To your surprise, the world feels less daunting already. You hadn’t realized how quiet you had been the entire morning. Miya’s the only person you’ve spoken to the entire day, and even that was a quick and whispered thank you. Your throat almost hurts with the force of your giggles after disuse all morning, but it’s a good kind of pain. 

Onigiri Miya, family owned. You can almost feel the warmth of an embrace around you as you bite into your steaming onigiri, still a little too hot. 

All too soon, it becomes a tradition for you to order Onigiri Miya as your comfort meal. It doesn’t even have to be a bad day - you actively try to avoid associating things you like with painful feelings by using them as treats for hard days. Instead, Onigiri Miya is anything from a reward for getting to the second round of interviews or a celebration for successfully starting a new hobby. 

Onigiri has become your favorite food, and the person on the other line who takes your orders and even spares a few minutes to chat with you when it’s not too busy has quickly become someone irreplaceable in your life. 

You think you might need to redownload Tinder if you’re this attached to the man who fulfills your onigiri orders. 

Even though you know it’s strange, you can’t bring yourself to sever your connection. Miya is warm and kind, and you’ve quickly come to think of him as a friend. It’s a culmination of lots of little moments piling up over time. 

When you had forced yourself to go on your first date after a while, determined to get back out there, it had crashed and burned catastrophically. Onigiri Miya had been there to pick you back up. Miya had even recognized the sniffles in your voice that you were fighting and drawn you another little cat. 

The next time you had ordered, before you could even tell him what onigiri you wanted, Miya had asked you what happened last week. Maybe that’s just how family owned businesses are. They actually care about their customers. Enough so to play therapist to the girl that orders from you every week. 

Then there was the time you had gotten your first call back for a job application, and you had called Miya to celebrate. 

Well, not Miya. You didn’t have his personal number, but you had called Onigiri Miya, which is more or less the same thing at the moment. This time, he had been the one to be interrupted as you blurred out your good news. 

You can almost hear the smile in his voice when he says, “What’d I tell ya? I knew ya could do it.” 

There’s no container of sushi with a hand drawn cat this time, but there is a little note written on a napkin. It’s accompanied by an origami star. 

You don’t cry, exactly, but your eyes water up as you read the note. He’s proud of you. The star is to wish you luck on your continued journey. The knowledge that he’s proud - his own words - fuels you as you keep applying and interviewing, never letting rejection stop you. 

He’s just the guy that takes your onigiri order, but at some point, he’s become someone special to you. 

He cares. He spends an extra two minutes on the phone with you to ask about your day even when you can hear the sounds of a busy environment in the background. He remembers your accomplishments and failures. Whether you fall or rise, he’s there with you every step of the way. 

Sometimes, you get a fluttery feeling in your stomach when he laughs at you, calling you silly for whatever mistake you’re relying to him. You miss his voice when you don’t have an occasion to call, and when something happens, your first thought is always to tell him about it. 

Maybe he feels the same way, because the next time he comes to deliver your order, he tells you, “We’ve known each other long enough, ya order every week. I don’t like being called Miya. My name’s Atsumu.” 

Or maybe not, because he never treats you in person the way he does on the phone. There’s no spark of connection, no bright laughter, no willingness to linger, to stay, to listen. 

Perhaps he’s just shy. In that case, you’re willing to take what he’s offered you and make the first move.

The next time you order, you end the call with, “Thanks, Atsumu. I’ll talk to-“ 

There’s an abrupt interruption from the other end immediately. 

“What’d ya call me?” His voice sounds funny. 

“…Atsumu?”

Even when you’re confused, the sound of his belly deep laughter makes you feel all shivery from your toes to your head. It makes your joints feel weak, like they can’t support you, and you ease into the dining chair as you wait patiently for whatever laughing fit that’s gripped him to pass. 

“Atsumu,” he repeats, with another snort of laughter. “Atsumu, really?”

“What?”

“Ya know Onigiri Miya’s a five minute walk from yer place, right?” 

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Come here,” he says, and hangs up. 

When you enter Onigiri Miya, you get instant whiplash. There’s two of them! 

You’re just wondering if you should get your eyes checked when you start seeing the subtle differences. They have different hair colors, and their eyes are just the subtlest shades apart. 

The most discerning difference is the way the one with grey hair is looking at you. 

“There’s the girl of the hour,” Atsumu says. “I’ll leave ya to it.” 

When Atsumu leaves, Miya gestures for you to sit at the bar in front of him. He’s still packing onigiri. 

“I’m a little hurt, ya know. Can’t believe ya mistook me for my twin.” 

“It was an accident!” You protest. “How was I supposed to know?” 

“I’m teasin’ ya,” he says, laughing. “Yer so easy to rile up. Remember this, okay? I’m Osamu. The nicer brother.” 

“I heard that,” Atsumu yells from the back. 

“Atsumu���s just the delivery guy,” he says. There’s a twinkle in his eye. You don’t think it’s that funny, but you like seeing him mirthful. “I’d rather make the food than deal with the people, so he does it.”

“Am I part of the people?” 

He gives you a look. 

“Stop fishing for compliments,” he says, and your cheeks grow warm with delight. “Ya know ya aren’t.” 

“Here,” he says, sliding you a napkin with a series of numbers and a hand drawn picture of a cat. “I’ve been meaning to do this for a while.” 

By the cat’s head, the speech bubble reads, “Miya Osamu’s personal number.” The cat is winking at you. 

“Is this…?” 

He smiles at you. “Stop clogging up the line cause ya miss me-“

“I don’t-“

He ignores you. “I got a business to run, ya know? Just call me next time.”

Then, he leans over the bar. He’s too close. Your cheeks feel warm under his attention as he whispers to you, “I’ll make something just for ya, compliments of the chef.” 

Trying to recover, you swallow to bring moisture to your dry mouth. You’re trying to be playful when you say, “It’s a date, then?”

He looks at you with a hint of a smile. “It is.” 

[jumexju]

¿OH, QUÈ SERÀ?

Pairing !! : House / Reader

Fic Type !! : Oneshot / Fluff

CW !! : House's jokes (He's an ass), reader is latino/a (gender isn't specified), untranslated spanish is used

Summary !!: He made a bet with Wilson.. and lost.

Note !! : the house md brainrot is consuming me lol (szn 5 is making me physically ill)

✦ MASTERLIST

“You Like them!” Wilson barged into House’s office as if he had made a grand discovery. House dismissed his team and continued eating his tacos de birria, waiting for Wilson to expand on his outrageous claim of him liking a woman. “It’s been three weeks and they're still living with you, ergo: You haven't kicked them out or you haven’t told me — and the latter can’t be true because you tell me everything!” The blonde had his hands on his hips while he talked. 

“Who? _____?” House asked, feigning confusion. “They cook and they're not boring. Plus they clean- And for free too!” 

“Not for free, they need a place to live, they're probably just being courteous, House!” Wilson warned, “You’re trying to hide the fact that you care about them because then it makes you seem more human and you don’t want that because you hate when people see your nice side!” The Oncologist kept lecturing him but he wasn’t really paying any attention to it. 

“I have a nice side?” House's words dripped with sarcasm. He did, however, seem to be enjoying the birria tacos you’d made the day before. Apparently it was a big thing in latin american culture to cook as if you were feeding a whole village, so you had a lot left over. 

“Yes, you have a-! That’s why you’re letting them stay!” Wilson argued, a boyish smile on his face at the realization that his friend had a crush on a fellow colleague. 

“I’m not letting them do anything, I’m just taking advantage of their cooking and cleaning skills.” He dipped the end of the taco in the consumè you’d made, savoring the explosion of flavor that was currently happening  in his mouth. 

“You know that’s not true.” Wilson sat in front of House’s desk, facing him with the smile still present. “You L-I-K-E  them,” The blonde spelled out, “Just admit it!” 

“If I do, will you leave me and my tacos  alone?” House lifted a brow as he licked his index finger and thumb. 

“You didn’t happen to delete a message they were expecting from an apartment manager, did you? ,” Wilson questioned, a knowing look on his face. 

“... No-”

“Aha!” Wilson exclaimed, “Your hesitance indicates that you did! Jeez, just ask them out, House. It’s not that hard,” Wilson shrugged, “Unless you’re too chicken of course…” 

“You wanna bet?” House laid back in his chair, empty tupperware sitting on his desk as he smirked. 

“A hundred dollars if  you ask them out and go out on a genuine date.” Wilson said as he crossed his arms. See, he knew something that House didn’t. Around a few months ago, you confided in Wilson and told him about your feelings for House. However, when Wilson had suggested that you ask him out, you said you didn’t want to risk it, especially because you knew there was a high chance he wouldn’t reciprocate. Of course, Wilson said it was reasonable and left it alone, listening to your vents about House and whatnot whenever your attempts to bury your feelings failed. 

Unfortunately for House, You were a great actor, because not even he knew of your feelings for him. You kept it professional, or well tried to before you had to move out. You didn’t tell him the details of that, but somehow you ended up living in House’s…  house. Certain that you would say no, House replied: “If you lose, you owe me a hundred.” With that, the bet was in place and House couldn’t be more excited to get his hundred dollars tomorrow and see the defeated look on Wilson’s face when he told him that there was no date. 

With a pep in his step, House could hear the faint salsa playing before he even opened the door. His keys jingled while finding the right one but before he could insert it into the lock, you opened the door. Did you recognize the jingle of his keys? “Hey? You’re back late.” You smiled before leaving him to walk in and close the door himself. 

“Yeah it Wilson was begging me not to go, He’s clingy.” House joked. 

“You guys make the cutest couple,” You said sarcastically as you stirred the rice you were making. 

House sat on the couch and popped a pill, “I wear the pants in the relationship, just so you know.” 

“Yeah I can’t picture you wearing a skirt,” 

“I can picture you wearing a skirt,” House insinuated as he checked you out, “You’ve got a great ass for it.” 

You rolled your eyes, “You’ve gone senile, Atrevido.” You shook your head and laughed at his comments. “Has that line ever worked on anyone?” 

“Usually,” House shrugged.

“Yeah maybe back in your day,” You finished off the rice and began slicing the potatoes you’d put off to the side earlier. “Anyway, You haven’t heard any messages about  the apartments I applied at, have you? They said they’d call me back like two weeks ago and I haven’t heard anything.” 

House pursed his lips and acted clueless, “Nope, Nada.” The older man shrugged and positioned his feet on the coffee table in front of him. “What are you making?” 

“Carne con papa y arroz,” You told him. “My mom used to make it for me as a kid and I missed the taste so I’m making it. ¿Te terminaste los tacos de birria que hice ayer?” 

“Yeah.” House left out the part where he smacked Wilson’s hand for trying to steal a taco. 

“What’d you think of them?” 

“They weren’t horrible.” House, being himself of course, wouldn’t admit that he loved them. 

You smiled to yourself, knowing House, that was probably the closest you were going to get to a compliment about your food. Because the tupperware was basically clean, you could tell he actually liked them. For House, his actions usually spoke louder than his words. Once the meat finished cooking, you added the potatoes and put the lid over the pot, the only thing left to do was to wait for the potatoes to soften. With a sigh of relief, you grabbed your cup of mango-strawberry flavored wine and hummed the tune that played softly in the kitchen as you walked over to the couch to sit next to House. After a few minutes of comfortable silence, House spoke up. 

“Do you wanna go on a date?” 

You looked up from your magazine, “A date?” 

House slowly nodded, “That’s what I said, yeah.” 

You shrugged, “As long as you’re paying.” You chuckled and kept reading your magazine, you didn’t even take a moment to mull it over. House was a little surprised by your lack of hesitance, but it was overshadowed by his disappointment. 

“Wait, really?” House asked but he didn’t seem thrilled by your willingness to go on a date with him. 

“I mean, yeah?  It’s free food. It’s not like you like me or anything so why would I pass that up?” You chuckled, “Unless you actually like me, in which case, I probably look like an asshole right now.” Your eyes widened and you put your magazine down. “You don’t like me do you?” 

“No, it was a bet, which — thanks to you — I just lost.” He sighed and slouched into the couch. 

“My bad,” You laughed, “How much did you bet on me saying no?” 

“A hundred dollars.” 

You almost spit out your wine, “You were that sure I’d say no??” 

“I was, up until a moment ago.” House glanced at you as if you’d sabotaged him. 

You patted his arm trying to calm his butthurt-self, a bright smile on your face, “Sorry House, Free food is hard to pass up.” 

“Yeah, Milk the hot doctor of allllll his money, that’s your plan huh?” House looked up at the ceiling. 

“Dunno about the ‘hot’ part but everything else is accurate,” You laughed, picking up your magazine again. 

“Yeah, I’m not as hot as the burning food on the stove right now.” House stated. Your eyes widened as you hopped off the couch, setting the wine on the coffee table and running to the stove. 

“You ass! You couldn’t just  remind me like a normal person??” 

He sipped on your glass of wine as you checked if the food was burnt, “I’m far from normal, I thought you’d’ve known that by now.” House chuckled. 

“You shouldn’t drink when you’re on drugs y’know.” You snatched the cup from him as you sat back down, “You’ll end up doing some serious damage to your brain.” 

“Like I can get any worse, It’s not like I’m dying.” He turned on the TV, the  rom-com you two would watch together came on. 

“Yeah it’d suck if you died,” You finished the cup of wine. 

“Would it?” He asked as he glanced at your lips, wet from the wine. 

“Yeah. Where else would I live?” You met his eyes. 

He scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Freeloader.” 

“Hey-! I’m cooking and cleaning as payment, so not freeloading.” You nudged him with your elbow, playful smile on your face as you looked back at the TV. 

Maybe Wilson was right. Maybe he did like you. 

Just a bit though.

[moutainrusing]

rumour mill

See, Sirius was terrified out of his mind to confess his feelings for Remus. Even though it was definitely about time; he’d been talking James’s ear off for years at this point. In all fairness, James had been talking Sirius’s ear off about Lily for far longer than that, except as James smugly pointed out, and much to Sirius’s resentment, James had actually confessed to Lily.

This led to a wrestling match over who was the bravest. After around ten minutes, James captured Sirius’s arm between his legs and twisted it upwards until Sirius was yelling, “Fine! I give up, you win, now get off me!” (Mary had walked into the dorm looking for Peter, but with wide eyes and a traumatised expression, she’d backed out immediately, muttering about how they should lock the door. Honestly, it was just a typical brawl, some people genuinely had no guts.)

“Ha!” James cried victoriously. “I’m braver, I confessed to Lily, and you’re just a pathetic pining loser!” Jabbing Sirius in the stomach, he teased, “Zero. Guts.”

“I said get off,” Sirius grumbled petulantly, shoving James away just to collapse on top of him again. “I just can’t,” he whined miserably, tracing erratic patterns along the side of James’s body. Thinking of actually speaking to Remus about how whenever Sirius was within his vicinity, his heart lodged in his throat, would probably cause his heart to leap out of his throat, flailing around on the floor at Remus’s feet like a dying fish, gasping to swim in Remus’s bloodstream as if that were its only survival.

“Hey,” James gently took Sirius’s agitated hand between his own, caressing the skin until the shaking stopped. “You can, I know you can. You can do anything you put your mind to, Padfoot.”

Sirius grouched, “Don’t wanna put my mind to it.”

James squeezed his hand.

Sirius rolled his eyes, “Fine, I do. And I know he likes me back. Well, I think he likes me back.”

James snorted, “He’s head over heels for you.”

Sirius blushed, but shrugged it off, “Not as much as I am for him.”

“Oh, it’s equal alright,” James nodded sagely. “S’why you’re perfect for each other.”

Sirius buried his head in James’s thigh, unable to respond. He had so many reasons for why he and Remus weren’t perfect for each other, but no matter what, James would always argue against them. If Sirius expressed any misgivings, James would brush them away, as if he were the wind carrying Sirius’s worry to the other side of the world, but even there, Sirius’s worry would still exist. James didn’t get it, and if Sirius conveyed his concerns, it would be a never-ending back and forth of how his concerns were meaningless, but they meant something to him, but they shouldn’t, but they did, and James would drive himself in spirals for not being able to help Sirius, but nothing could help Sirius, his worries just existed.

It wasn’t something to fix. They could be lessened, but they could never be fixed. They could be vented about, but then James would try to return a solution. What if Sirius just wanted to rant for no reason?

- - -

“Ooh, dorm hug!” Peter smiled as he entered, collapsing on the floor next to James. Wrapping an arm around him, he sighed, “I’m exhausted; Mary needed Divination help, but it involved so much searching in the library - we needed five books - and then it turned out the Divination was based on Astronomy, so we had to look through Astronomy books, and now tonight we have to climb all the way up to the tower in order to see the Hercules constellation, which is apparently going to predict our future for the next three years if we look at it through purple lenses. Oh, this homework is also due in two days, I wasn’t there in the lesson, and Mary didn’t even tell me until now!”

That was what Sirius meant by ranting for no reason. It wasn’t about finding a solution, it was just about ranting. But James didn’t know that, and as expected, Sirius looked up to see James opening his mouth to provide Peter with a solution—

“POTTER!” Lily burst through the door, pausing for a brief second to glance at the three of them all curled up on the floor. Sirius thought he saw her smile fondly, but it vanished the second she looked at James. “You,” she wrinkled her nose, “are supposed to be in detention right now. With me,” she added begrudgingly.

“Oh!” James leaped off the floor, causing Sirius and Peter to roll towards each other. In shared misery, they slumped into one another, Sirius giving Peter a commiserating pat on the shoulder for his Divination struggle.

“I am honoured to have you overseeing my detention, Prefect Evans!” James gushed, following Lily out of the dorm. “In fact, this is a reward rather than punishment, that I get to gaze upon your radiant face for a whole hour…”

“You’ll be writing lines, Potter.”

“While you watch me…”

Peter and Sirius burst into laughter. When they settled down, they were slumping again. Peter poked Sirius’s side, “You know why I’m moping, what about you?”

“Remus,” Sirius sighed.

“Ah,” Peter replied.

“Yeah. It’s just, what if something goes wrong? Sure, I want to date him, but I love being his friend; that’s everything to me. Plus, friendship is superior to romance, I don’t wanna fuck that up just for a snog. I love being in his presence and breathing in the same air as him and listening to his voice and his thoughts and staring at him. I need his friendship, I want to date him. There’s a difference, y’know.”

“Yeah,” Peter patted his shoulder. “I know.”

Sirius smiled. “I know you know.”

Sirius kept talking, and Peter listened. Peter began talking, and Sirius listened. They didn’t go to each other for help, but for this.

- - -

Tossing and turning in bed, Sirius felt his thoughts fluctuating back and forth too, his brain flipping in his skull like a pancake, flopping and rising, pulling this way and that, should he do this or should he do that?

“Paddy foot,” James sang, climbing into bed beside him. “Padfoot, madfoot, sadfoot, radfoot—”

“Shut up, forkhead,” Sirius swatted him. His eyes glinted in the dark, and in an exaggerated accent he sang, “Forkhead, fockhead, fuckhead—”

James gasped, “Language!”

“Shut. The fuck. Up.”

“You shut the… frick up,” James retorted. Sirius snorted, and James muttered, “Swearing’s bad, okay?”

Sirius raised an eyebrow while James flushed. “Anyway,” he tried to change the subject. “Oh, yeah! You were being really noisy, flapping around on your bed like some kinda whale, mate.”

“I’m not a whale,” Sirius protested.

“Aw, it’s okay, my great big humpback,” James cooed. Sirius shot him a withering look, which also read as, what the fuck? James ignored him, continuing, “So now you’re fine with being a whale, what else is up?”

“Think I’ll confess to Remus,” Sirius whispered.

James lit up with excitement immediately, throwing his arms around Sirius. “That’s amazing,” he mumbled into Sirius’s shoulder, grin stretched across his face and pressing into Sirius’s skin as if permanently imprinting itself there.

- - -

“Okay,” Sirius clapped his hands. “This is the plan. While Remus is in the library, I’ll stand up on a table and yell, ‘I’M IN LOVE WITH REMUS,’ to everyone in the Great Hall. Then, the gossiping will start until it spreads to Remus, and he’ll know I’m in love with him! It’s flawless.”

“Er—” Peter shrugged. “Sure.”

“It’s so romantic,” James swooned. “He’ll come up to the dorm for clarification and you can be there holding his favourite chocolate while you tell him all the rumours were true, it’s adorable,” James squealed.

“Right?” Sirius agreed, jumping up and down next to James. It also meant that he didn’t have to admit it directly to Remus’s face - he could ease himself into it. First, rumours. Then, the truth. It would also ease Remus into it, make Remus’s perpetually overthinking brain more open to the idea that Sirius actually liked him back. First, rumours. Then, the truth.

- - -

“I’M IN LOVE WITH REMUS!” Sirius yelled from the top of a table. The whole hall froze for a second, before the chattering increased by tenfold.

Sirius felt goosebumps break over his skin, wobbling slightly as the nerves took hold of him again, but he maintained his position, standing atop a table with his chin jutting out, ruler of the whole rumour mill.

“Sirius Black!” McGonagall’s shrewd voice cut through the crowd. “Get off the table!”

He saluted her lazily, then nodded at James. “JIMMY BOY!” He took a running leap at him, landing wrapped around James’s body. Kissing his cheek, Sirius dramatically gushed, “Thank you, my dear saviour.”

James rolled his eyes while Peter laughed, and a few students looked at them curiously, muttering to their friends.

- - -

“Oh, chocolate,” Remus smiled as he entered the dorm, accepting the gift from Sirius’s outstretched hand. “Thanks, Pads.”

Sirius hesitated, “…No problem, Moons.”

Remus eyed him strangely, before addressing the whole dorm, “Are James and Peter here?” Upon hearing their names, the two opened the curtains around their beds.

“Yeah…?” James looked between Sirius and Remus. Peter and James had wanted to give them privacy for whatever confession they’d need to make, so why was Remus asking for all of them?

Grinning, Remus flopped onto his bed and sat up with gesticulating hands, “So, I was in the library, as usual, but then people were coming up to me asking if we’re all in a polycule? It’s pretty funny, they think ‘cause we’re so touchy, we’re now in a relationship?” he laughed. “Oh, and apparently we gaze at each other lovingly all the time,” Remus snorted. “We’re just the epitome of platonic love, so much that it’s borderline romantic.”

Sirius coughed, “I—”

“What—”

“That makes sense,” Peter agreed.

They looked at Peter incredulously. He raised his hands in defence, “I just agree to everything, okay?!”

James sighed, “Yes, and we love you for it.” He paused. “Oh… we do say ‘I love you’ quite a lot, don’t we?”

“Oh, yeah…” Sirius realised.

“Well, apparently we’re so madly in love with each other, the whole school knows. A couple Hufflepuffs were discussing the ways in which we shag while McGonagall was walking past, and y’know her usual no-nonsense, unreadable expression? I saw it crack,” Remus shook his head as if all was lost, his laugh almost sounding like a sob. “I had to shake my head at her like, no, of course that’s not true, and I can’t believe they’re discussing our sex lives!” he complained, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes.

“It’s okay, Moony,” James clambered into the bed, Peter and Sirius following as they wrapped their arms around him.

“Yeah, some people still know the truth about your non-existent sex life, don’t worry,” Sirius reassured him.

“Like you can talk,” Remus swatted him pathetically.

“You know,” Peter hummed thoughtfully, “really, this calls for a celebration.”

“What?” Remus whipped his head towards him. “You want to celebrate the fact that people think we’re fucking?”

“Language,” James muttered hopelessly.

Peter hesitated, “I mean, if you want to celebrate that—”

“Pete,” Sirius whacked the back of his head. “You don’t need to agree to that, no one wants you to agree to that.”

“Oh, good,” Peter sighed. “No, Remus, of course we’re not celebrating that, you dumbarse.”

“Harsh,” Remus mumbled, while James carried on moping over the misuse of language.

Peter’s eyes widened, “Oh, sorry—”

“Get on with it, Wormtail!” Sirius interrupted.

“Right, yeah,” Peter nodded, “what I mean is, we should celebrate this new stage in our friendship!”

“That’s brilliant!” James cried, turning to Peter with large, adoring eyes. It did look like he was about to kiss him.

Sirius snapped his fingers, “What was it you said, Moony? We’re so platonic that we’re borderline romantic?”

Remus grinned at him, love written all over his face, “Yeah. Let’s celebrate that.”

“What if we were actually romantic?” Sirius pondered.

“Then the rumours would be true,” Remus shrugged, leaning into Sirius as Sirius leaned into James and James leaned into Peter and Peter leaned into Remus.

Sirius buried his face into Remus’s hair. He could make their relationship romantic later. Right now, the Marauders were everything already.

“So,” Sirius turned his head out of Remus’s curls to rest his cheek there instead. “How’re we gonna celebrate?”

The mischief alight in all of their eyes as the four of them grinned at each other was identical.

(for more: wolfstar microfics)

[darkeralmond]

Do you write smut for conrad fisher? If you do can you do a jealous conrad x reader? thank you!!

i do now! thank you so much for requesting ILY anon ❤️❤️

WANNA BE YOURS

Conrad Fisher x fem! Reader

summary: You and Conrad were at a party for Belly’s birthday hosted by Nicole. You were stranded by Conrad and notice a guy alone on the couch. You decide to be friendly and talk to him before dancing with him. Conrad and you get into an argument over this until you say the thing he’s been waiting to hear.

warnings: 18+, smut, angry Connie, car sex, penetration, she/her pronouns, arguing, vulgar language, Conrad calling you “good girl”, dirty talk

word count: 1.9k

a/n: connie is a popular guy in my request board 😭, not complaining tho i love him!! thank you again for the request!! P.S. I LOVE ARTIC MONKEYS AND PAXTON H-Y!!!

masterlist | request info

The music was loud in your ears as you entered the crowded living room. Conrad had left you alone to go find out where Steven was, but all the people in one space triggered your claustrophobia.

You looked over and saw a guy sitting by himself on the couch with a look of defeat on his face. There were people dancing all around him while he chugged whatever substance he had in his red solo cup. Usually, you don’t feel sympathy for strangers, but something about this guy made your heart wrench.

You approached him. “You alright?” Sure, it’s weird when a stranger asks others how they’re feeling, but some people need to vent to someone they don’t know.

He looked up at you with red eyes, you couldn’t tell if he was high or if he had been crying. He sniffled, “Yeah, uh, I caught my girl cheating on me with my homeboy upstairs.”

Shit. “Oh,” you replied.

You sat down next to him while he explained, “It’s chill. She was a bitch anyway.” He brought his cart up to his lips and took a hit. He was high. “You wanna hit?” He offered it to you.

You shook your head, “I’m straight edge.”

He furrowed his eyebrows, “The fuck is straight edge?”

You laughed at his reaction. It was the same one every person had when you told them the same answer. “That means I chose to stay sober.” Your thought process was by staying sober, it helped you avoid all the drama that starts when you’re black out drunk. Drunk confessions, drunk fighting, the list goes on. “It just helps me stay out of trouble.”

He exhaled smoke from his lips and nose. “Ohhhh,” he laughed. “Respect.”

“Yeah,” you giggled. You then looked out at everyone dancing and having a good time. “Why don’t we dance?”

He smiled, “Sure.” The two of you got up from the couch and went to the middle of the living room. The Motto by Drake and Lil Wayne played over the speaker, the bass shaking the whole house. Due to all the people crammed in one room, you and the mystery guy danced fairly close to each other. “Hey, what’s your name?” he yelled over the music.

“Y/N!” you shouted back. “What’s yours?”

“Noah!” Noah yelled. You nodded your head while smiling. The two of you danced while screaming the lyrics to the song. “You’re really cool, Y/N! I think we’d make great friends!”

“What do you mean? You’re stuck with me now!” You and him laughed. That’s when you spotted someone familiar pushing through the crowd. It was your boyfriend finally coming back from his search. “Conrad, hey!” You waved. “Did you find Steven?”

He completely ignored your question, his eyes set on the guy who you were dancing with. “Get away from my girl.” He stepped in front of you.

“Woah, man. We weren’t doing anything.” Noah held up his hands defensively.

“Conrad, stop!” you laughed, trying to lighten the mood. “It’s fine! We’re just chilling.”

He scoffed in response, “I recommend staying away from Y/N. We’re going home.”

“Conrad-”

“We’re going home.” He cut in.

He sounded pissed, it made your guy twist as you looked back at Noah. “Sorry about him,” you said with a frown on your face.

“Don’t stress about it, maybe I’ll see you around.” He waved bye as you got dragged out of the house by Conrad.

“What the fuck is your problem?” you yelled as the two of you left the house. “Am I not allowed to make friends now? Why don’t you ever trust me?”

He rolled his eyes, “I trust you! I just don’t trust that guy!”

You yelled, “You don’t even know him!”

“Neither do you! You don’t know what his intentions were, Y/N!” His eyes were wide with anger as he looked into yours, the veins in his neck strained. “Get in the car.” The car beeped as he unlocked the doors.

You didn’t want to cause a scene in front of everyone, so you just did as he said and got in the passenger’s seat. You folded your arms over your chest and stared out the window. He got in the driver’s seat next to you and started the car before putting it into drive mode. “Just so you know, his girlfriend cheated on him and he was by himself,” you mumbled while pouting.

“Y/N,” he said. This gave you a glimpse of hope that he’d finally listen to you, but he then followed it up by, “I don’t fucking care.”

You rolled your eyes and frowned, shaking your head. “You’re a fucking child.” He didn’t say anything, he just kept driving.

The radio quietly played music, the air was tense as you refused to look at him. He stopped the car at a red light. “Y/N, I’m sorry,” he finally spoke up. “I get really insecure, babe, and I just want everyone to know that you’re mine.”

You looked over at him, your expression softened as you said, “Connie, I’m yours.” You placed your hand over his that draped over the shift stick.

He glanced over at you and saw your innocent expression. You knew something instantly changed in him as you noticed his demeanor swiftly change. “Say that again,” he breathed.

Now it clicked. It turned him on to know that you and your body was for him and him only. You batted your lashes and smiled deviously. “I’m all yours, Connie,” you teased.

He stared at you longer, his breath slightly hitched. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. When the light turned green, he took a turn that was the opposite way of both your guys’ homes.

“Conrad?” you said, concern present in your voice. “What are you doing?”

“I’m pulling the car over so we can fuck.” Butterflies swarmed in your stomach due to the assertiveness in his voice. He pulled the car over close to the beach where there were no lights except for the car’s headlights. “You fine with that?”

You nodded your head, “Y-Yeah.” You unbuckle your seatbelt and look up at him. Conrad’s hand reached up to the side of your neck and connected his lips with yours.

He was hungry for your kiss touch. He was desperate for his hands to be all over your delicate body. He pushed into you, his tongue slowly licking the seam of your mouth, which led to a more forceful kiss. He gripped the collar of your shirt, pulling you closer.

You broke away and smirked. The anger from the argument earlier melted into lust. He slightly leaned the seat back as you climbed over the center console. You rested on his lap, your legs straddling him. He moaned as you kissed along his jaw line, then his chin before leaning down to his neck and sucking on it.

His fingers dug into your hips and pulled you closer, making sure you could feel his hardening erection against your lower body. “My… job is to make you… mhm… feel good,” he said between moans.

You pulled away, “What? I’m not allowed to be in control?” This won a chuckle out of him. “I’m kidding, go ahead. I already said I’m yours.”

He ran his fingers through your hair while biting his bottom lip. “That’s my good girl,” he husked before locking his lips to your neck.

Your back arched off his lap as he sucked harshly on your pulse point, your breathing became heavy and erratic.

Your hands found their way onto his hair as he continued working his way down your neck. You couldn’t tell who was taking control anymore; the two of you were too busy focusing completely on each other. Your body began reacting.

One of his hands came up to your hip, gripping tightly as another hand traveled to your breast. Both of his hands were touching the fabric of your shirt and caressing the skin underneath. A gasp escaped your lips as your hand found its way to his crotch. Your fingers brushed against his sensitive member, eliciting a moan out of him.

‘You like that, huh?’ you thought to yourself.

He suddenly let go of your breasts and grabbed your face gently with his hands, pulling your lips forcefully to his own. He kissed fiercely, his tongue slipping inside your mouth. He bit your lip causing you to moan, his hands moving from your face down to your ass. He started grinding against you roughly, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your entire body.

A loud moan fell from your lips as you bit your bottom lip. “Connie, just fuck me already,” you pleaded. “Stop edging!”

He chuckled, “You’re still on the pill, right?” You nodded your head eagerly. “Good.” He reached down to his pants which caused you to back up slightly. He unzipped the zipper and pulled down his boxers slightly to reveal his erection. You got up on your knees so you could pull your panties, that were soaked, off. He helped lift your skirt up and slip your panties down your thighs. Once they were off, he threw them to the car floor on the passenger’s side.

Slowly, he inserted himself in you. A gasp escaped out from you while Conrad groaned from the feeling of your warm walls. His thrusting was slow at a steady pace, you felt yourself getting wetter and wetter by the second. He placed one hand on your thigh as his free hand gripped your ass. Your breathing grew shallow as the pressure building in your body increased.

“Oh god,” you whimpered.  “Please! Connie, I need you so bad!”

He continued to work his way into you until he slammed his pelvis against yours causing him to let out a loud grunt. He rasped, “You take me so well.”

As you continued to grind against him, he let out an animalistic growl. “God, Y/N, please,” he panted. You continued to grind against him, he was close, you knew it. You bit your lip, trying to suppress the sounds that were begging to fall from your throat.

His grip on your leg tightened, causing you to cry out as a wave of pleasure that rocked through your whole body. “Connie,” you whined. “Cum for me, baby, cum inside me!”

He pounded faster and harder. You felt your walls tighten around him, squeezing his erection. As he came, you let out the loudest scream anyone has ever heard from you. You clamped your eyes shut and squeezed your thighs around his waist even harder to keep him in you.

After a few seconds you managed to open your eyes. You looked down at him and could see his face twisted in ecstasy, sweat drenched over his forehead. You felt something hot pool in the pit of your stomach. You leaned down to kiss him again before getting off him. You reached for your panties and slid them back on. “You feel better now?”

He nodded his head as he caught his breath. Both your faces were flushed red from the heat of the orgasm. After recovering from his orgasm, he smiled softly. He grabbed your hand and brought you closer to him once more, placing his lips on yours. “We should head back. It’s almost midnight. And I wanna have some fun with you somewhere more comfortable”

You giggled and kissed his cheek.

[cozzzynook]

Drift and Ratchet coming back to the lost light surprised to find Rodimus holding a sparkling he'd recently had. Soundwave is next to him worried because he'd just been released from the hospital earlier that day and needed time to recover.

“Welcome back,” Rodimus smiled very, very exhausted.

The two had just come back to the lost light from their honeymoon and called to what was now Rodimus’s new room more hidden than his last.

They were completely surprised and shocked that Rodimus had gotten a new room and when they smelled more than one scent inside while standing at the door they were completely taken aback.

Drift’s digit print allowed him to enter inside and the scent of happiness and unbearable pain made the two rush towards the berth room where they practically busted the door open with their frames only to stop and see Soundwave fretting over Rodimus who was sitting up looking entirely too uncomfortable and in pain to be wearing the otherworldly smile that he did.

They took in the sight of wires attached to his spark, the IV just beneath his pouches and in his wrist port and the very huge painful looking tank that had yet to go down all but parading itself beneath the nesting blanket. As a tiny sparkling suckled the exposed pouch that Soundwave’s servo covered from their optics along with the tiny and extremely fresh sparkling that weakly pawed at it.

The new spark was but a carbon metallico copy of Soundwave, frame type and color included and the exhausted expression on Rodimus faceplates looked a nano vent away from giving in. But stubbornness and a need to see his bitty kept him awake.

“I’m so glad you guys are back. Come ere,” he struggled to speak. His optics dim, frame weak in a way Soundwave shifted to hold his weight entirely up allowing the two to see his pouches as he whispered in Rodimus’s audial.

That unnaturally deep and powerful vox snapped the two out of their stupor and Ratchet immediately went to work on Rodimus and the new spark with Soundwave careful optics watching. The mech had no accusations towards Ratchet but it was deep sire and conjunx coding keeping him from looking away as he relayed all the info to Ratchet through data sharing comms.

“Kid, you have one pit of a welcome home present for us, thats for sure,” Ratchet couldn’t help but smile. His optics were misty but he’ll argue it’s due to old age instead of what it really is. While Drift just out right cries as he carefully hugs his amica and primus sparkling.

“Roddy! You should’ve told us! We would’ve come back immediately!”

“That’s why I didn’t,” Rodimus was barely able to rely what those words and it was Soundwave’s careful movements along with Drif softly taking the now sleeping bundle and Ratchet helping Soundwave lower Rodimus to the berth. That Rodimus lost his battle to recharge.

“He’s fine. I want to stay to monitor his and the sparklings spark and vitals. Even if he gave emergence this morning, due to his health and the nature of his spark it’ll take longer than a normal post emergence period to heal.”

Ratchet kept his scanner on both Rodimus and the new spark as Rodimus slept with his servo intwined with Soundwave’s who kept a tentacle wrapped loosely on his bitty that Drift cried over.

“Ratty! A sparkling! Roddy had a whole sparkling! We have a sparkling Ratty!!”

Soundwave knew the moment he and his conjunx were sparked the swords mech and medic would have claim on their bitty as well. Just as Rodimus had claim on the two’s adult bitties such as First aid, Red Alert and Medwing.

Being conjunxed to Rodimus meant he had claim of their adult sparklings as well but he never commented or did anything beyond a curt hello and remained beside Rodimus.

So Soundwave expected the two to fawn over and proclaim parentage over their new spark and he was grateful in a way since the medic and swordsmech would do anything for their sparklings and now the new spark his conjunx brought into the galaxy mere hours ago.

It gave him time to take care of his conjunx who now thankfully lay asleep getting the rest he’s more than deserving of.

If Soundwave had his way, his bright spark would be letting him take care of their bitty while he laid in berth or rested until their little gigabyte could walk and he was rounding Rodimus out with the next little soundling.

“You did amazing, sweet spark,” he whispered in his souls audial, low enough only for him to hear and deep enough to make both their frame shift as their sparks begged to merge.

“I love you, i love you, i love you,” his spark sung through touch as he curled against Rodimus whose frame always responded in kind.

Drift and Ratchet were long familiar with the display having gone through the process with their own three bitties that Drift carried so long ago. It doesn’t phase them to experience the intimate display of affection Soundwave gifts Rodimus who more than deserves it.

They’re too busy enraptured in their own intimate moment as they welcome the very first new spark Rodimus has ever emerged into their family.

“They’re beautiful,” Drift keeps crying and Ratchet is reminded of all the times they held their sparklings who weren’t nearly as quiet as this one.

“Welcome home kid,” Ratchet can’t help but shed a few tears as he enjoys the warm welcome of life both old and new.

What a beautiful gift to come home to indeed.

[rosemarycovet]

Billy loomis x reader who goes silent while arguing/is upset

-billy really cares and loves for you

-if he didn’t he wouldn’t be with you and it’s not in a fake way either

-you’re his top priority

-so he hates when you stay quiet especially if something has upset you

-he really doesn’t like when you guys argue because you just stay silent you don’t fight back or anything

-he would always have to reassure you either with his words or actions

-when ever you would cry billy would raise his hands to wipe your tears instead of hitting you like you thought he would

-you would always think billy saw you pathetic or way to sensitive when you would remain silent and would hit you but he never would hit or abuse you he cares for you to much to ever lay a finger on you

-when I say he cares for you I mean it he really does your all he has left in his eyes ever since his mother left him

-that’s why he hates when you stay silent he doesn’t want you ignoring your feelings or keeping them away from him

“it’s ok” you said to billy in a soft unsure voice

“no it’s not” billy said sternly

“talk to me (y/n/n) please”

-you would occasionally apologize for a lot of meaningless things

“you don’t need to apologize”

-would always reassure you he’s not leaving you when you overthought

-if he found out the reason you’re were upset was because of someone he would be so mad

-he would kill anyone that made you cry

-would glare daggers at the person

-he would kill them with his barehands it didn’t matter if he had the ghost face costume or not

-would never ever let you go to sleep mad at him or upset

you turned away from billy laying your head the opposite way from him not wanting him to see you cry as tears swelled up in your eyes “please don’t sleep mad at me just talk to me” billy would say to you

-his abandonment issues really kick in when you just look up at him with sad eyes as you stay silent

-he gets scared your upset at him and going to leave him and find someone better

“don’t just go silent on me let’s talk about it..I can’t loose you” billy would say in a shaky deep voice trying to get you to talk as he held you

-whenever you felt like a burden to billy or felt like your feelings didn’t matter he would drop everything he’s doing to let you vent

-it didn’t matter if he was hanging out with stu or doing homework he would drop it and let you talk to him

“you know I always have time for you” he would reassure you

-whenever he would raise his voice at you he would bring it down so quickly not wanting to scare you away

-he knows you hate it when he raises his voice

-you would hug him tight whenever you were upset or sad scared he was going to shove you away

“relax i’m not going anywhere” he would tell reassure the both of you

[live-laugh-neteyam]

Hi I love your writing and I hope your having a wonderful day my love.

So I just had a traumatic experience (like few hours ago) and to make it short my brother is super abusive with me and I really need to get some comfort in some way.

So could I ask for a neteyam x fem! Omaticaya reader where he comes and comforts her and try to make her forget about what happened with her brother ? (Irl my brother physically hit me so I would love to see how neteyam would react) physical touch is my love language so could you make him touchy too?

Thank you so much that would make my whole week

Let Me Hold You ||| neteyam x omatikaya!reader

my sweet anon I'm so so sorry you're going through this. my dms are open if you ever need to talk. I had a family member who was physically abusive to me, so unfortunately I can somewhat understand what you're going through. or if you wanna pick an emoji so I know who you are, you can vent here. sending my love 💞

masterlist

pairings: neteyam x omatikaya!fem!reader

summary: neteyam will always be there to pick up your broken pieces

words: 700

warnings/notes: *warning: triggering topics* angst, abusive family relationships mentioned, physical abuse mentioned, protective!neteyam, use of y/n, eventual comfort

Your hand hadn’t left your cheek since it happened. Still in shock your eyes stared off into space. There was no way it happened. Your brother wouldn’t have hit you, would he?

“Y/N I need you to move your hand for me.” Kiri softly said.

Eyes focusing you found yourself in the healing tent with Kiri. Hesitantly you moved you hand from your face, folding it into your lap instead.

Kiri grimaced at the wound on your cheek. A dark purpleish bruise was already forming. A small cut topped it all off. It looked painful, Kiri’s heart hurt for you.

As Kiri went to work patching you up, Lo’ak was outside telling his father everything he had witnessed. Lo’ak was attempting to sneak out when he saw you and your brother arguing outside your family home.

It had started off like any other petty sibling argument. You couldn’t even remember what it was about. Growing up your brother always had a temper, but you never thought he’d actually hurt you.

So you didn’t even see it coming when he balled his fist and threw it towards you. It caught you off guard in more ways than one. Stumbling to the ground clutching your cheek in shock.

Lo’ak had seen it all happen. Rushing to you he made quick work of separating you from your brother. For once you were thankful that Lo’ak was attempting to get into trouble. You didn’t know what would’ve happened had he not shown up.

“I swear to Eywa I’ll kill him!” A familiar voice growled outside the tent.

You winced at Neteyam’s words. As much you loved that he wanted to defend you, right now you just needed him.

“He will be dealt with.” You heard Jake speak. “She’s your priority right now.”

A few moments later Neteyam entered the tent. His heart broke at the sight of you. Sitting there pitifully with tears welling up in your eyes.

“I’ll give you two a moment.” Kiri excused herself.

“Oh Ma’Y/N I’m so sorry.” He whispered slowly kneeing in front of you.

“It’s not your fault. You have nothing to apologize for.”

“I should’ve been there. I could’ve protected you.” His head hung in shame.

A single tear slid down your cheek. Cupping your face he gently wiped it away with his thumb.

You didn’t want to cry in front of him. You were already humiliated enough, you didn’t need to cry on top of it all.

“There’s no shame in crying. I promise.” He whispered before kissing your forehead.

Neteyam knew that you loved cuddling more than anything. Physical touch was your love language and he was always more than happy to provide. But he didn’t want to spook you having just gone through something so traumatic.

“Can I hug you?” He asked.

Shaking your head yes you opened your arms for him. Neteyam immediately scooped you up, pulling you into his embrace.

“C’mere, let me hold you syulang.” He cooed gently rocking you back and forth attempting to sooth you.

You felt safe in his arms. In that moment, everything was okay. You knew that Neteyam would never let anyone harm you ever again.

Neteyam still felt anger in his heart. He wanted nothing more than to give your brother a taste of his own medicine. But right now you needed him. Neteyam would hold you in his arms until the end of time if that’s what you wished.

“I love you, Ma’Y/N.” He whispered into your ear.

Pulling him impossibly closer you snuggled your face into his neck. You knew that eventually it would get better. Neteyam would be there every step of the way to get through this. But for now, you just wanted to block the world out and focus on his heartbeat.

taglist:

@ilovejakesullysdick @fanboyluvr @athenalikethegoddess @loverofallthingsfandom @forasgaard @plzfeedmebread @instabull @ms5m1th @avatarappreciationblog @romimiux @ferrtan @tammitammytime @eternallyvenus @dreamyescapesfromreality @dvxsja @jakesullyfatjuicypeen

[razorblade180]

Catching a Vibe

At the home of The People of the Springs, Aether finds himself calmly on a surfboard. Dawn has barely broken and the waves are calmer than his thoughts; although that wasn’t exactly a hard task. His mind flowed like the currents underneath him and his eyes stared off into the horizon so much he didn’t notice the tribe’s most famous guide paddle up to him.

Mualani:Ah, so you’re the brooding type. You and Kinich are going to hit it off.

Aether:Huh?! Oh, h-hey. What brings you out here.

Mualani:Shouldn’t that be my line. This entire place is practically my backyard. Where’s Paimon?

Aether:Asleep. I wanted to practice my surfing. She’s not exactly a swimmer and gets anxious when we’re separated.

Mualani:Ah, how kind of you. No worries can happen when her head is full of dreams. Also to answer your question, I’m out here because someone was wading in the water at the crack of dawn all alone.

Aether:That’s not normal here?

She gestured to the entire area. Aside from a few fishing boats in the distance, there was a definite lack of people in the water.

Aether:Hehe, I guess not.

Mualani:It’s one thing if you were in a hot spring, but open water is another thing entirely. Not that I’m particularly worried for ya. I imagine Fontaine has made you quite the strong swimmer.

Aether:*shudders* Honestly I think it’s the only reason I find it normal to be out here right now. Anyways, I’m fine. I’ll head back in a little while so if you have anything you need to do…

Mualani:I got nothing that can’t wait for actual sunlight. Staying out here isn’t a problem. Also…*leans closer* between you and me, a certain floating companion asked me to keep an eye on you a couple days ago.

Aether:…Haha, man, I guess I can’t get past her.

Mualani:I won’t disclose details but I will say I pretty confused at first. From what I could tell you seemed to be managing. But…after everything we’ve been through recently I think I understand a bit better. Things sure got complicated fast.

The surfer let out a chuckle and a wary sigh before shaking off the feeling.

Aether:Things really got crazy for you. Need to vent?

Mualani:Nah I’m good. At first it was… a lot. Still is, but I’ve processed the situation more or less. No need to sweat it. I’m actually grateful. From the moment we met your vibe felt a little out of wack in a way I couldn’t explain. Now I’m sure it’s because you’ve been dealing with crisis like this often, right?

Aether:Did you just call my vibes horrendous?

Mualani:You get what I mean! Paimon sure would.

Aether:I…can’t argue that.

Mualani:Don’t worry. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to and I won’t pry.

Aether:So what exactly are you hoping to accomplish.

Mualani:Hmmmm…

She takes her pointer fingers and places them on the corners of Aether’s mouth, raising them up to make a smile to…well…smile at. She removes her fingers to pleasantly see her work stay as Aether looked at her with mild confusion.

Mualani:Uh huh. Just as I suspected. Your smile used to be way bigger I bet. That’s probably what Paimon is worried about. It’s gone into hiding, hasn’t it?

Aether:I-I wouldn’t know. I’m pretty sure my smile has been the same so… sighs

Mualani:See? Can’t even convince yourself. Never a good sign. I don’t know when you lost it; only you can really answer that. Your friend misses it, and I honestly would love to see it. Not to say your smiles so far haven’t been wonderful, but now I’m invested. Kind people always have the best smiles. They really light up a room!

Aether:Haha, you’re right about that. Kachina really knows how to make a person want to do their best.

Mualani:I know right! She’s so adorable. That smile means so much to me. I can also tell yours brought her a lot of comfort. Seriously, thanks for sticking your neck out for her. It means a lot. Kinich typically reins me in whatever someone is bothering her. It was quite the interesting change to have someone also want throw down against those jerks slandering her.

Aether:I don’t know if we should call that solitary or enabling.

Mualani:Hahaha! Either way, I’d say we’re thick as thieves now. More importantly, war buddies. I couldn’t ask for anything better.

Aether:Heh, funnily enough, I seem to make war buddies left and right. Never thought it would be as common as it is. Although…this time is a little different. You’re different.

Mualani:Oh?

Aether:Natlan is pretty amazing, and the way of your people, the way you act is refreshing. I know I said something about solidarity earlier, but honestly it’s more like I’m catching your vibe. Instead of worrying about my journey and the things ahead I’m just…taking things as they come. No use worrying about it all, right? Thanks Mualani. *smiles* You’re pretty cool.

Mualani:*smiles* Oh hehe, thank you. *holds fist out* “No one fights alone.” From here on out, we have each other’s back. How about tomorrow I can teach you some really epic surfing tricks. If you can keep up that is.

Aether:You’re on.

He bumps fists her proudly as the horizon makes the water shimme. For the first time in what felt like awhile, the Sun emerged in full force.

[b1xi]

𝙖𝙣𝙮𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜

Glenn rhee x reader

word count:3927

Warning: nothing i Guess

Previous Chapter/Next chapter

As soon as the car came to a screeching halt upon arriving at the camp, you jumped out of the seat before the engine even fully stopped. You didn’t wait another second. The need to see Alice was the only thing occupying your mind. Your feet barely touched the ground as you ran, completely ignoring Shane’s words as you passed by him. Your gaze was fixed on a single target: Carol, who was holding your little one in her arms.

“Damn it, turn that off!” Dale shouted from the roof of the RV, his face wrinkled in concern as the blaring horn continued to sound.

“I don’t know how!” Glenn responded, stepping out of the sports car, clearly confused by the dashboard controls.

But in that moment, nothing else mattered to you. Your entire world shrank down to the tiny arms that Alice was already extending towards you, an innocent smile on her little face. “Thank you,” you said to Carol, your voice heavy with relief as you took your little one into your arms, feeling her comforting warmth against you. “I missed you so much,” you murmured, kissing her forehead repeatedly, overcome with emotion. Each kiss you pressed to her soft skin was a confirmation that, despite all the chaos, she was okay.

“Look what I brought you!” you said with a smile. You threw the backpack on the ground and, with one hand, pulled out a small plush seat. “Do you like it?” you asked, eagerly waiting for her reaction, your heart pounding.

Alice looked at it with curiosity before smiling widely, her little hand gently stroking the soft plush with interest.

Then, you called out to Sophia, who was standing next to her mother. “Sophia, I brought something for you too,” you announced, pulling a Barbie doll out of the backpack. The box was a bit crumpled, but the girl didn’t seem to notice. Her eyes lit up when she saw the gift, and with a big smile, she took the doll from your hands.

“Thank you so much!” Sophia exclaimed, clutching her new toy as if it were a treasure, her small hands protectively holding it with care.

Carol, touched, looked at you with a warm smile as she placed a protective hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “You’re so sweet,” she softly remarked, her eyes shining with gratitude.

Finally, they managed to turn off the car horn, and the deafening noise that had been breaking the camp’s peace faded away. Amy quickly approached Glenn, her concern evident. “Is Andrea okay?” she asked anxiously.

“Yeah, everyone’s fine… except for Merle, of course,” Glenn replied, with the seriousness of someone who had just returned from hell.

Shane, however, wasn’t ready to let it go. “What were you thinking, driving this damn noisy car all the way here?” he snapped, his voice full of frustration as he leaned against the car’s hood. “Are you trying to attract walkers or what?”

"I think we’re fine," Dale interjected, his tone more relaxed, trying to ease the tension.

"Fine? You think being an idiot is fine?" Shane continued, not missing the chance to vent his anger. You knew what he was referring to, but calling Glenn that wasn’t helping anything.

Dale, always calm, raised a hand in a gesture of peace. "The alarm was active in several areas; it’s hard to pinpoint the source. I don’t want to argue, but maybe next time you should be a bit more careful," the older man suggested, firm but without direct confrontation. His comment was more for Glenn, who now looked like he was being scolded like a child.

"I’m sorry," Glenn replied, looking at the car with a mix of regret and resignation. "But at least I got a good car, right?"

Before anyone could respond, the sound of the truck bringing the others broke through the air. Everyone turned to see how the vehicle screeched to a stop, and Morales was the first to get out. Within seconds, the others followed, running to reunite with their loved ones. The scene was a balm for frayed nerves, an image of families reuniting amid the chaos.

The moment Carl ran into Rick’s arms stayed imprinted in your mind, a powerful image of what really mattered: surviving, yes, but also keeping the family together in the middle of the devastation. The two hugged with an almost desperate force, palpable relief in every shared sob. There was no sadness in their tears, only the weight of being reunited and the certainty that, at least for now, they were together.

After that moving scene, everyone returned to their activities, and the camp resumed its quiet routine. You headed back to your tent, trying to process everything that had happened, while Alice played peacefully next to you with the plush toy you’d gotten for her. Sitting on the ground, you could feel the cold of the earth seeping through the thin plastic floor of the tent.

You began unpacking the things you’d brought with you: light blankets to keep Alice warm during the cold nights, some clothes for both of you, bottles, diapers, the pacifier that soothed her so much, and a couple of personal items you had packed almost out of habit. You placed each thing carefully to the side, organizing with efficiency.

When you reached the bottom of the bag you’d been using since arriving at the camp, something caught your attention. There, crumpled and forgotten, was your old work uniform. You lifted it slowly, the thick, now worn fabric feeling strange in your hands. Why had you brought it? You didn’t know for sure. Maybe a part of you had clung to the hope that, at some point, things might return to the way they were. But hospitals no longer existed, not in this new world.

As you stared at that uniform, a lump formed in your throat. It was a symbol of a life you had left behind, of the endless night shifts, of the patients you had helped, and of a clear purpose that now felt blurred amid the chaos. Now, your purpose was to survive, to protect Alice, and to find meaning in a reality that seemed determined to take everything away from you.

You dropped heavily into the desk chair on the other side of the reception room counter. The exhaustion had built up in your muscles, as if the weight of the endless hours was finally catching up with you. A few patient papers, reports that needed filing, were scattered on the desk in front of you. You began stacking them methodically. The monotonous hum of the computer beside you was the only sound breaking the silence of the room.

“You look exhausted,” Ellith commented as she sat beside you. Her cotton jacket fell softly over the back of the chair, revealing her nurse’s uniform, a distinctive shade of purple that stood out in the muted atmosphere of the emergency room.

“Two shifts in a row,” you replied with a sigh, rubbing your face in an attempt to shake off the sleep that weighed down your eyelids. Your fingers slid across the computer screen, but the letters on the monitor blurred at times, demanding a focus that you simply didn’t have anymore.

Ellith watched you in silence for a moment, a small, sympathetic smile appearing on her face. “I don’t know how you’re still standing. I would have collapsed hours ago.”

You gave a tired smile. “Coffee. Lots of coffee... and probably some pure inertia.”

She laughed softly, though both of you knew there was a deeper truth behind that comment. The work in the hospital never stopped, especially in the emergency rooms. Exhaustion wasn’t optional, and the ability to keep going, to do what needed to be done, became second nature. But there was a limit, and you felt yours approaching.

“Don’t worry, once we finish this shift, I promise to take you for real coffee. None of that horrible stuff from the break room machine,” Ellith joked, trying to lift your spirits. Her voice was soft, but you could hear the same exhaustion reflected in her as well.

You looked at the screen one more time before turning away. “That sounds like an offer I can’t refuse.”

“Is Jay here, or has he already gone home?” Ellith asked as she powered up one of the computers, adjusting her sleek, thin-framed glasses.

“He’s still here,” you replied without taking your eyes off the screen, your fingers moving swiftly over the worn keyboard as you took a sip of your coffee, now cold and bitter. “He’s in neonatology with Margot, reviewing some cases.”

Your fingers paused mid-typing when the emergency alarm blared throughout the hospital, filling the air with tension. The quiet atmosphere of the reception transformed into controlled chaos as paramedics rushed in with a stretcher, moving with palpable urgency. Ellith, along with the other nurses, reacted immediately, rushing to meet the patient.

From where you stood, you watched as the man on the stretcher writhed violently, his face contorted with effort, the anguish evident in every one of his movements. The paramedics and nurses struggled to stabilize him, their efforts barely enough to contain the frantic energy that shook him.

You quickly stood and approached the scene, leaving the reception behind.

“What’s going on?” Ellith asked, her voice firm despite the confusion as she helped hold down the patient.

One of the paramedics, sweaty from the effort, responded as he adjusted the straps to immobilize the man.

“We’re not exactly sure. We found him in his apartment, thrashing like this. A neighbor called after hearing the screams and banging. His blood pressure’s through the roof, and he hasn’t stopped moving since we picked him up. He’s not responding to external stimuli, but he’s still conscious.”

"It could be poisoning," Ellith suggested, frowning. "We need blood tests and an urgent CT scan."

You nodded, mentally noting what needed to be done. The patient continued to struggle, his eyes rolled back, while his breathing grew more irregular. It was as if his body was fighting an invisible battle, and no one knew against what.

“He seems to be going into a seizure,” you said, focusing on his erratic movements. A full seizure could endanger his life.

“Prepare the sedative,” Ellith ordered firmly, turning to one of the nurses.

As you pulled the flashlight from your coat pocket, you prepared for an exam that, at the moment, felt routine. However, when you opened one of the patient's eyes and shone the light directly into his pupil, you noticed something alarming: the dilation was much greater than you'd anticipated. The man’s skin had a sickly yellow hue, and what struck you the most were the bluish veins, with a faint greenish tint, spreading like roots under the surface of his skin.

“Are you seeing this?” you murmured, not taking your eyes off the patient's face.

One of the nurses, who had already prepared the syringe with the sedative, quickly handed it to you. You took the needle and, as you inserted it into the patient's skin, you noticed something unsettling: the needle sank in with an almost unreal ease, as if you were piercing jelly rather than human muscle.

As the sedative began to take effect, the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor, which had been racing, started to slow. The patient, who had been thrashing and writhing on the stretcher, became still, his breathing becoming regular and deep. A momentary sense of relief flooded the room.

Ellith approached calmly, removing the oxygen mask from the patient’s face. With steady hands, she began unbuttoning the shirt he was wearing, exposing his torso.

“Look at this,” her voice was laced with surprise, immediately drawing your attention and that of the rest of the team.

You approached the stretcher along with the others, all of you with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. What you saw left you speechless. On the patient's side, near his abdomen, there was a clear human bite mark, surrounded by dark bruises and spots of dried blood. It was an unmistakable pattern: teeth, perfectly outlined, embedded in the flesh.

“Is... that a bite?” you managed to say, though the disbelief in your voice was evident.

Ellith nodded slowly, equally perplexed. One of the nurses leaned in closer, examining the wound with a mix of horror and fascination.

“Was it a person?” the nurse asked, as if seeking confirmation for what everyone already feared.

One of the paramedics, who had been standing by the door, cautiously stepped forward and asked a question that sounded more like a desperate guess.

“Could it be rabies?”

The question hung in the air, but no one answered immediately. Rabies was the first thing that came to mind when you saw a bite, but not a human one, and something about this scene didn’t quite add up. The greenish veins, the yellowish skin, the ease with which the flesh had given way under the needle... You had never seen anything like it.

As you tried to process what was happening, the patient, who had been completely sedated, let out a deep, savage growl that echoed through the room. His eyes shot open, bloodshot, and his body arched violently on the stretcher, fighting against the straps holding him down. The sounds he made were not those of a conscious human. They were closer to those of an animal, something primal and uncontrollable.

Fear gripped the room. No one dared to move, all of you frozen in the horror of the moment. And then, just as quickly as it had started, the patient collapsed again, his muscles relaxing, his eyes closing once more. The heart monitor returned to its steady rhythm, as if nothing had happened.

“This isn’t rabies,” whispered Ellith, her face pale as she adjusted her glasses.

After several minutes, everyone gathered in the break room. You glanced at the watch on your wrist; your shift was almost over, and soon you could head home.

"Alright, we should keep the patient under observation in case his condition worsens," you said, resting your hands on your hips as you addressed the nurses and Ellith. "Run a blood test, it could be an infection."

"Got it," Ellith replied, pulling her hair into a high ponytail. The other nurses left the room, ready to follow the instructions. "You should head home. I’ll call you if anything changes."

You nodded and quickly went to change clothes. You grabbed your backpack from your assigned cubicle and headed toward the elevator, pressing the button with a tired finger. You went up to the fourth floor, where you waited outside the men's locker room. After a few moments, a tall man with messy blond hair came out, wearing a gray hoodie.

"I need you to drive me home," you said as you slung your backpack over your shoulder, following him.

"Hello to you too," he replied, his tired voice barely concealing his exhaustion. "What about your car? I thought you'd wait for Ellith to finish her shift."

"I'm dying, dear Jay," you said, wrapping your arm around his as both of you took the elevator down to the parking lot. "I left my car at home; I walked here."

"You should start paying me for being your chauffeur," he joked, pulling the car keys from his pocket. "You owe me a favor."

You smiled as you settled into the passenger seat, closing the door gently. Jay got in and started the engine with a quick turn of his wrist. The hum of the car filled the silence as the streets, emptier than usual, stretched out before you.

Jay gave you a quick glance before speaking.

"So... how was your shift?" he asked with a mix of curiosity and fatigue, keeping his eyes on the road.

You sighed, recalling the patient who had arrived in such a disturbing condition.

"It was... strange," you began, intertwining your fingers in your lap. "There was an emergency admission, a man. We don't know all the details, but apparently, they found him in his apartment. He was in a pretty agitated state, his blood pressure through the roof, and he wouldn't stop moving frenetically."

Jay frowned, clearly intrigued by the tone of your voice.

"What did he have? Some kind of overdose?"

You shook your head, mentally reviewing the events of the past few hours.

"That's the weird part. It didn't seem like an overdose. When we stabilized him and were able to examine him, he had yellowish skin and bluish veins... But the most disturbing thing was what we found when Ellith took off his shirt." You paused, still processing what you had seen.

"What did you find?" Jay asked, now fully alert.

"A bite," you said, your voice barely a whisper, as if speaking it out loud would make the memory even more real. "A bite mark on the side of his abdomen. Surrounded by bruises and dried blood. They looked human, but there was something... off about them."

"A human bite? Do you think it could be rabies?" Jay frowned even more, his fingers gripping the steering wheel tightly.

"That's what we thought at first," you admitted. "But I'm not so sure. When we tried to stabilize him, he suddenly woke up, screaming. Then he fell unconscious again."

The silence between you stretched as Jay processed what you'd just told him. The streetlights cast fleeting shadows over his face as he turned down a deserted avenue.

"That sounds... creepy," he finally said, letting out a sigh as he turned the wheel toward your building. "Like something out of a horror movie."

The conversation faded into the quiet air as the car slowed down in front of your building. You unbuckled your seatbelt slowly, still somewhat absorbed in the day's events.

Before opening the door, you turned to look at Jay, who kept a relaxed expression, though there was a glimmer of concern in his eyes.

"Goodbye, JayJay," you said, using the nickname you'd given him years ago, your tone affectionate, softening the moment. "Thanks for the ride, as always."

Jay flashed a light smile, resting his hand on the steering wheel.

"You're welcome. You owe me dinner for being your chauffeur," he joked, though his tone was warm.

You let out a soft laugh as you opened the door and stepped out of the car.

"I owe you," you replied, leaning slightly toward him before closing the door. "Take care, Jay."

––––––––––+––

The lump in your throat tightened as you packed away your uniform, the images of Jay and Ellith resurfacing in your mind. Where were they now? Were they safe, or had they succumbed to the chaos that now ruled the world? You wondered, almost automatically, while you reorganized your backpack, trying to push aside the thoughts that only brought uncertainty and pain.

"Let's go outside," you whispered softly as you lifted her into your arms.

With Alice nestled in your arms, you headed out of the store, needing some fresh air and perhaps a distraction from the emotional weight that burdened you. As you stepped out, the first thing you noticed was Glenn, sitting by the RV. He seemed lost in his own thoughts, fanning himself with his baseball cap in an attempt to relieve the sweltering heat.

You walked slowly toward him, the crunch of gravel under your feet was enough to make him look up. Glenn gave you a tired but genuine smile, as if your mere presence brought a bit of normalcy to all the chaos.

"Hey," he greeted softly, his voice dragged down by exhaustion as he gestured to the empty chair beside him. "You look exhausted. You should rest."

You gave him a grateful but resigned look as you adjusted Alice in your arms. The little one, curious but fidgety, turned her head in all directions, her wide, alert eyes absorbing everything around her.

"I would, believe me," you sighed, taking a seat next to him, "but someone has to look after this little explorer." You smiled, though the exhaustion on your face was evident. You knew that caring for Alice wasn’t just a physical task but an emotional one. She was your anchor, but also a weight you carried with every step you took.

Glenn looked at you sympathetically, resting his elbows on his knees and dropping his cap into his hands. "It must be hard, doing it all on your own."

"It's what has to be done," you shrugged. "I don't have any other choice. She needs me, and that keeps me going."

There was a moment of silence between the two of you, broken only by the soft murmur of the camp and the crunch of gravel under the feet of some companions. In the distance, someone was arguing about food rations, and the constant presence of walkers beyond the perimeter was a shadow that never truly disappeared.

Glenn broke the silence. “You know, it’s amazing how strong you are.” His words caught you by surprise, and you glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, noticing the genuine respect on his face. “All of this... it’s not easy for anyone, but you manage to stay strong for Alice. That’s admirable.”

You smiled, though you weren’t sure how to respond. You had heard similar words before, but coming from Glenn, they felt different. More genuine. “I’m just trying to do the best I can. But sometimes... sometimes it feels like it’s not enough.”

“It is,” he replied with certainty, looking at you again with that warmth that seemed to be one of the few constant things in his character. “Sometimes, just surviving is enough. And you’re doing a lot more than that.”

The impact of his words was immediate, and although you tried to hide it, you felt the heat rising to your cheeks. You lowered your head, pretending to focus on Alice as you adjusted her in your arms, but the truth was you wanted to hide the blush that was spreading across your face. God, you were sure of it. As much as you tried to deny it, the feeling was there: you wanted this man.

That feeling had been growing in you for a while, but now, under the dim light of the evening and the soft scent of damp earth, it seemed impossible to ignore. Glenn was more than just an ally in the midst of chaos. He was one of the few people who managed to make you feel safe, even when the world around you was falling apart.

You took a deep breath, trying to control the emotions surging in your chest. The camp continued its course, with the distant murmur of voices and the crunch of feet on the gravel, but between you and Glenn, there was a bubble of tranquility, of shared calm.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you, Glenn,” you finally said, your voice soft, almost inaudible, but clear enough for him to hear. It wasn’t just a thank you; it was a disguised confession, a way of saying what you felt without fully exposing yourself.

Glenn turned his head towards you, and although you couldn’t look at him directly, you could feel his smile. “You don’t have to imagine it. I’m not planning on going anywhere,” he replied, his tone light, but with an underlying seriousness that made you feel like he meant it.

You dared to look up, meeting his eyes. There was something in his gaze, a silent understanding, a connection you both shared but neither of you had dared to name until now. Maybe there was no need to say more; you both knew what was happening Between you.

[7ndipity]

Smile

Jimin x Reader

Summary: When you come home from a terrible day at work, Jimin’s there to comfort you.

Warnings: lil angst, swearing

A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this! I’m sorry it took me a bit to get to, I got stuck. I hope you’re doing better, and if you ever need to message and vent, you're more than welcome to!

Masterlist

Requests are open

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Letting out a relieved breath as you let yourself into your apartment, you let your things slowly slump to the floor, kicking your shoes off haphazardly to rest next to them before padding off through the house.

You’d had what was easily one of the worst days ever at work, the usual hectic chaos of your shift topped off by a particularly rude customer who’d wound up yelling at you over something you didn’t even have control over.

You’d done your best to keep your calm and manage the situation, but it’d still been upsetting. Even now, your hands were still slightly shaky as you leaned against the kitchen counter, taking another deep breath to steady yourself, more than ready to bring this awful day to a close and not think about it for a while.

“Hey.” You jumped slightly at the soft sound of Jimin's voice from behind you, relief flooding your system as you turned to see him standing in the doorway, eyeing you curiously.

“Hey,” You said, straightening up as you tried to keep your voice light. “I thought you wouldn’t be home til late.”

“I managed to get out rehearsals early.” He said, concern evident in his face as he studied you, coming over to rest his hands on your waist. “Everything okay?”

“Mhm.” You tried to nod, but you could already feel your resolve wavering, vision blurring with tears as your eyes met his.

“Sweetie,” He frowned, pulling you closer, his touch gentle as if he was worried he might break you. “What’s wrong? Talk to me.”

Since the very beginning of your relationship, Jimin had been your safe space, where you could let your walls collapse and you would be okay, shielded by the warmth and protection of his embrace. The same touch that now allowed the floodgates to open, all your frustration and stress from the day pouring out as you buried your face in his chest, managing to tell him what had happened in between muffled sobs.

“But, Love, that wasn’t your fault.” He tried to soothe you, stroking your hair as he held you close.

“I know, but it doesn’t feel that way.” You mumbled. “Maybe I could’ve done better, or maybe I-”

“Hey,” He caught your chin, tilting your face up to get you to look at him. “I mean it, you didn’t do anything wrong. You did the best that you could do, and if those assholes couldn’t see it, that’s their fault, not yours.”

You bit your lip, trying to stem the flow of your tears as he softened his tone, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“You’re so much more patient than me though,” He commented. “I would’ve probably punched that guy.”

“You would not.” You said, letting out a weak chuckle.

“Would too, I would’ve given them a whoop-ah!” He squawked, miming a karate chop and making you burst out laughing.

“There’s that smile.” He said, grinning as he leaned in to press another kiss to your lips. “You know, I think your smile’s my favorite thing in the whole world?”

“I thought it was my eyes?” You asked, stealing another peck.

“I can have more than one favorite!” He argued, making you giggle again. “You want me to list them all?”

“I don’t know, is it a long list?” You asked.

“Yeah, it takes a while to list everything about you.” He said, making you blush, before leaving another soft kiss on your lips.

“Thank you.” You whispered.

“Anytime.” He replied. “Do you wanna watch a movie or something? Might make you feel better?”

“Can we just go to bed?” You asked, feeling better just from being with him.

“Of course.” He nodded, spinning around and hooking your arms around his shoulders so he could carry you on his back, making you let out another laugh.

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