#and none of the meds they want me to try even do the one thing i chose my current medication for!!!!!!

[phagodyke]

aouuugh my uterus......

[dawnquafam]

.

[lith-myathar]

disordered eating talk in the tags

[andhumanslovedstories]

Last two shifts I worked, I had the same patients but was precepting (training) different nurses. So two nights in a row, I have a patient with a post-op complication (guts not moving) that the surgeons are taking a conservative approach to (wait and see if the gut starts moving). This treatment plan makes sense for the specifics of this patient, but that means we’re doing a lot of symptom management without directly treating the thing that’s causing the symptoms. In this case, symptoms are pain and nausea so bad that the patient said if they’d known this is how they’d feel after, they’d have skipped the surgery and just rolled the dice with what that colon polyp would do if left alone.

So we’re throwing meds at this patient, we’re walking them so their bowels can get moving, we’re giving ice chips and gum and cold wash clothes, we’re giving IV fluids (which is SUPER rare in the hospital right now because due to one of the recent hurricanes, we are critically low on IV fluids), we’re doing basically all my tricks short of putting another tube in this guy. And it’s working okay. Like we’re keeping pain and nausea just below “intolerable” but not by much.

That first night I have that patient, while I’m talking to the surgeon on the phone, my preceptee is in the room talking to the patient. I don’t get any new orders because most usual meds that would help are contraindicated in this particular circumstance. I’m feeling frustrated about that—I HATE when I can’t get symptoms significantly under control—when my preceptee comes up excitedly and says that the patient says they’re feeling much better after the therapeutic intervention my preceptor did. The intervention was hanging out in the room for 15 mins and talking with the patient about their hometown in Canada.

(Which, hell yeah. Very proud of that new nurse because she said one of the biggest things she wanted to work on was being less nervous talking to patients.)

Next night, I got the same patient, still miserable, and a new preceptee. We’ve got more meds this time, but still only marginal success with managing symptoms. I tell my preceptee, “next time you’re in the room, plan on staying and chatting with the patient for like ten minutes.” Next time we’re in the room, we do just that—we talk sports, hobbies, plans, past surgeries, how much this surgery sucks, just the three of us shooting the shit for a while before we have to go give pain meds to another patient. (It was a surgical floor. That night was mostly handing out ice packs and oxy.)

Anyway, the patient tells us that this chat has been the best they’ve felt all night. My preceptee comes out of the room, and my preceptee is like “wow that really was our best intervention.” And I get to be like “yes witness the power of chit chat as nursing intervention.”

Reflecting back, I’m grateful that the patient was so expressive about what we did that was working. I told the patient at one point, in the midst of their most acute misery, that we were going to give them everything we had available, and if that didn’t work, I had backup plans in mind. Like you might spend the night miserable, but it’s not because we didn’t keep trying stuff. And after I say that, the patient goes, “that was good, I like that you said that, that comforted me.” Which was very nice and convenient because before we’d gone into the room, I’d talked to my preceptee about how to make patients feel supported and cared for, even when none of the care we do is working. When we left after that, my preceptee was like “wow, you’re right, that really worked,” and I was like, “I KNOW, that’s cool right? I mean you always hope it works, but sometimes you just can’t tell if it actually does.”

I love really open patients, they are such fantastic teaching opportunities. For example, I had another patient both night who was also very open, specifically about what a bad job the hospital was doing and how everyone should just stay the hell out of their room. Considerably less pleasant feedback, equally valuable, about essentially the exact same situation that the first patient was in. Talking through that patient with my preceptees was also very useful and very easy, because the patient had been so explicit in their feedback.

It’s always odd training nurses because you don’t want bad things to happen to your patients, but you also need to new nurses to see bad things. And sometimes you get a patient assignment that is so good for teaching, it’s like it came from a textbook. Very convenient for me personally as a preceptor. Feels weird to say that about patients who are having absolutely miserable times, that their misery is useful to me, but (as preceptors normally say about stuff like this) if it’s happening, at least it’s happening where we can learn about it. Anyway, great couple of shifts to practice therapeutic communication.

[homestylehughes]

kiss it better

pairing(s): jack hughes x fem!reader

summary: jack's injury takes a toll on his and y/n's relationship, when tensions come to rise. emotions get the best of them and, feelings are hurt and tears fall. but that's nothing a little kissing or more can fix.

warnings: smut 18+ (idk what happened..), lots of angst, emotional reader and jack. cussing, fluff, cuteness, use of pet names and y/n.

wc: 3k

authors note: hi my little loves!! i'm back with another jack fic... no surprise! BUT this is my second back to back upload. look at me. i wrote all of this in one day, BOOM. anyways! this one was a little emotional to write, i'm trying my hand at writing angst, i love angst. i wasn't going to write smut but HEY IT JUST HAPPENED LOL. so hopefully you guys enjoy!! reblog and like if you enjoy <3 as always much love!!

happy reading <3

The devils had a rough year, everyone knew it, with their season ending in a heartbreaking way. 

Jack had an even tougher year, his season being filled with 2 injuries that led his season to end early, so he could undergo shoulder surgery. We all knew this was coming, it was only just a matter of time.

This time it hit Jack harder than the times before, he felt like he let his team, fans, and family down. 

Resting and recovering wasn't something Jack liked to do, he’s always been a go go go person, always doing something, always on the ice. 

 Jim and Ellen went with him to Colorado for his surgery, I stayed back and waited for his arrival back to Jersey. When he arrived back from Colorado from his surgery on Saturday, everything was fine. The first few days had been pretty easy for Jack, sleeping for most of the time. Only getting up to eat, shower, with my help and take his meds. 

He had been home for a week before tensions in our home started to rise. 

I woke up to a loud noise coming from the kitchen I think, rubbing my eyes quickly. As I lifted up out of bed, I turned to Jack's side of the bed, to see that he's not there. 

Quickly slipping on my slippers I make my way down stairs, to see Jack in the kitchen trying to fix himself a bowl of cereal. As I make my way further into the kitchen I see that the milk is spilled all over the counter on the floor, with the bowl also on the floor broken into pieces. 

I hear Jack mumbling words under his breath that I can't quite make out, but I'm assuming none of them were things I wanted to hear. 

Jack spots me before I even open my mouth to speak. “Shit i'm sorry baby, I didn't mean to wake you up,” he says, looking at me. 

“ I just wanted to make myself breakfast, but I can't even do that.” His head hung low as speaks. I could hear the sadness in his voice. 

“Jack it's okay, I promise” I say, making my way towards him. “Let me clean this up, and then I'll make you something, okay?” 

“NO!” Jack says loudly, the raise of his voice catching me off guard. “No, I can clean up my own mess. I made it.” 

Taking a deep breath, trying to choose my words carefully, I can already feel the tension in the room rising. 

“At least let me help,” I said quietly, not wanting to upset him. “I don't need your help y/n.” Jack says aggressively, “you've been helping and taking care of me all week.” he says as he turns to grab a towel to clean up the spilled milk.

I stood there in shock, Jack had never talked to me like that before. Anger and sadness ripe through my body. My head is telling me to fight back, but my heart is telling me not too. 

Im hot on his heels, following behind him, “jack.'' I called out his name, his back turned to me, as he began to clean up the mess. I get no response, “Jack'' I say again but a little bit louder this time, which still doesn't get a reaction from him.

My head is beginning to win, now wanting to fight back. I go to grab the towel out of his hands, throwing it in the sink behind me. Grabbing his hip, to turn him towards me so I can look at him. 

His eyes are locked on the ground, not looking at me. “Jack.” I try again for the third time. “Talk to me, what's going on?” softly saying to him, bringing my hand to his chin to lift his face up, to look at me. 

Jack is quick to rip his face from my hand, “i don't want to talk” he says looking straight at me now. Tears of anger, sadness, frustration swimming around in his eyes. “I'm going to clean up my mess, and you’re not going to help, leave it alone.” he says sternly at me.

My eyes are beginning to fill with tears of my own, not wanting to cry in front of him, not wanting to speak and argue with him to make the situation worse. I nod at him and make my way out of the kitchen, tears falling on my face as soon as I do. 

I just wanted to help him, be there for him, he needs someone right now even if he won't say it. I know this is hard on him, mentally and physically, but that doesn't make his actions okay.

All of these thoughts are running through my head as I make my way to our shared bedroom.  Making my way to the closet, deciding to start getting ready for the day, there's no way I'll be able to sleep after this. 

Tears are still falling on my face, I want to go back down there and say something, help him, talk to him, give him a hug. Do anything that I can for him, but I know he doesnt want that right now, he made that very clear. The situation is already tense enough. 

While getting ready for the day, I decided to give Jack space today. It seems to be what he wants from me right now. The tears have stopped falling for now, but my thoughts and feelings haven't stopped wandering.

I hear Jack enter our room, as I finish up my makeup, my body instantly tenising up, taking a deep breath I make my way out the bathroom. Grabbing my jacket, my back turned to him, there's so many things I want to say to him but I keep them to myself. 

I can feel Jack making his way closer to me, his front facing my back, his hand sliding on my waist. 

“Baby” he quietly says, the sound of his voice making me nervous. Taking a deep breath, I turn to face him, my eyes beginning to water again. Our eyes locked, I can tell he's been crying. I want to reach out to him, but i don't, scared of his reaction. 

Jack's hand is still on my waist, pulling me slightly closer to him. I'm the first to speak, I can't handle the silence anymore. “I'm going to run a few errands, I'll be back in a few hours. Text me if I need anything "I say softly, looking at the ground.

“I want to talk” Jack speaks again, I internally scoff at him, so now you want to talk. 

“I don't want to talk to you right now jack.” I say, making my way towards the bedroom door. Jack followed behind me, “that's a little childish don't you think? walking away, when i'm trying to talk to you” he says a little louder this time.

Anger is flowing through my veins, hot angry sad tears are now falling down my cheeks. “You don't get to speak to me like that.'' I say a wip my body around to face him. “You don't get to decide when we talk, or when I want to talk to you! '' I say with a voice full of venom. “You didn't want to talk 45 minutes ago, when I tried to talk to you. So yes jack, I am walking away. I have things to do. I don't want to be around someone who treats me like shit when I’m trying to be there for them” 

My voice is losing its battle of being strong, my emotions are winning, as my voice begins to trail off. I'm not stopping there, quick to cut off jack as he opens his mouth. 

“Actually, we are going to talk now.” I say, throwing my jacket on the ground. “I am trying my best to be the best I can for you right now. As much as you won't admit it, you need me right now, you're so stubborn that you won't let me. Let me be there for you, let me help you, we are in this together, stop acting like you are doing this alone.” 

“I know this is hard on you in so many ways, I'll never know what you're going through, but let me be there, talk to me. This isn't easy on me either, seeing the person you love the most in pain and you can't help them.” I'm beginning to sob at this point, trying my best to get everything out that I want to say. I'm not sure if I'll have the strength to do it again. 

Taking a few steps, to stand in front of Jack, grabbing his face in my hands, tears also streaming on his face. He leans into my touch this time, instead of pulling away. 

“I love you so much, don't push me away, please.'' I say staring in his eyes, looking for a response. Instead of words, Jack pushes his lips to mine, the kiss surprising me, knocking me off my feet almost. My hands never leave his cheeks, our mouths moving in sync, in a passionate kiss. 

Jack pulled away first, lips swollen, our chests both rising. “I'm so sorry” Jack begins “ I'm so grateful for your help and love during all of this” “this” he gestures to his shoulder which is sitting strapped up in a brace. “This is dragging me down. I hate it. I can't do anything for myself, i feel so bad when i ask for help im scared that I'm annoying you.” he says, “you'll never annoy me, Jack.'' I say while running my finger under his eyes, wiping away the tears. 

“Thank you for being here for me. I do need you, I'll always need you.” he finishes, before I have the chance to speak, jack is reconnecting our lips.

 Walking us back towards the bed, where he sits on the edge, his free arm urging me to sit on his lap. I pull away quickly, “ Jack, I can't. I don't want to hurt you” 

“You wont hurt me baby, what's hurting me is you not being on my lap, kissing me. Now get up here” he says with a smirk, pulling my body down to rest on top of his. 

Once I'm settled safely on his lap, Jack immdentially pulls my face down, to reconnect our lips together. 

Our makeout session is picking up, our hips grinding together, lips moving frantically together, jacks tongue slipping into my mouth, clashing with mine.

We haven't been this close in awhile, I've missed his body, his lips on mine. With another roll of my hips, Jack pulls his lips back groaning, throwing his head back.

Giving me the perfect access to his brace free shoulder, kissing and sucking on exposed skin of his neck. His grip on my waist tightening as our bodies move together. 

“Baby, I need more. Please.” Jack whines out to me, “I need to see you, I want to feel you, please, please” 

I pull back from his neck, his eyes filled with desperation. “Are you sure? I don't think we should, your shoulder, I don't want to hurt you jack.” I can see his heartache when I say those words to him. 

“Baby, I'm okay. I need you so badly, fuck” he says breathlessly as he beings to move our hips together again. I moan, as Jack connects our lips again, his hand sliding under my shirt, urging me to pull it off. In a quick motion I pull it above my head, leaving me in my bra. 

“Off. off. I want it off baby '' Jack says pulling at the straps of my bra. I reach behind me to unclip it, throwing it somewhere behind me. 

Jack is quick to grasp one of my nipples into his mouth, sucking and lightly biting it, the sensation causing me to moan out from above him. “Fuck Jack, yes fuck.” our hips moving at a quicker space, the dampness between my legs growing by the second, I can feel Jacks bulge swell benenth me. 

“Jack.” I moan out as he sucks and licks both of my breasts. “Jack i need more fuck, but i dont want to hurt you.'' I whimper. “I know baby I can feel it” he says in between the kisses his trailing up my neck. An idea pops into my head as his lips are about to meet mine again, I pull away. “move and sit up against the headboard.” I say to him, Jack's eyes widen in surprise. 

I get off of him, and he quickly makes his way to the top of the bed, his back resting against the headboard.

I began to unzip my jeans, pulling them down my legs along with my underwear, leaving me completely bare in front of him. I began to crawl to Jack on the bed. I reached him, grabbing the waistband of his sweatpants, pulling them down his legs, leaving him bare. 

I take in his state, eyes swimming with lust and love, pupils blown, chest falling, lips swollen. He looks beautiful, brace and all.

Wasting no more time, I sit myself back down on his lap, his cock resting warm and hard against my inner thigh. “Hi” I said to him, “Is that what you wanted? Want me to kiss everything better?” I say, grabbing the base of his cock, lifting up so I can align myself with him.

Without warning I sink down on Jack's cock, the both of us groaning at the same time. I'll never get used to the way Jack feels inside me, the burn between my thighs feels dealicious, I want more. I need more. 

“Fuck baby.” Jack whines out, his free hand grabbing my waist harshly. “I need you to move please.” “like this?” I say as I raise up slightly and slide back down on his cock.

“Yes, like that baby, fuck. More. More.” Jack says as he's looking up at me, so desperate and needy. 

I decide I'll stop tourchoring the both of us, as I lift off of him completely and sink down again. The action causing me to throw my head back in pleasure. “Fuck jack you feel so good” i say as I begin to ride at him at a slow pace. 

“Faster, fuck” jack groans from below me, getting tired of the pace he begins to thrust his hips to mine. 

“Right there jack please”. The angle of this thrusts hits my clit perfectly, causing shock waves to crash through my body. I can feel myself beginning to get tired, needing something to grab on too. 

Grabbing the headboard behind Jack, I lift myself off of him, and sink back down, putting all of my weight into the headboard, to create more leverage. 

The new movement causes my whole body to shutter. glancing below me, Jack's head is leaning back against the headboard, eyes closed, mouth open moaning below me.

As if he can feel me looking at him, he opens his eyes, pushes himself off the head board and takes my left nipple into his mouth, his eyes remain on mine. 

I began to speed up my movements, causing the whole bed to move below us. 

“Fuck right there baby.” Jack moans out to me, his hand moving from my waist to the back of my neck pulling it down to connect our lips. 

Moans spilling out between the both of us, I can feel the coil starting to build in my stomach, as our hips meet. 

“Jack fuck” i moan out i a throw my head back, now resting my hands on his hips. 

“I can feel you clintching around fuck baby.” “im almost there fuck” slamming myself harder down on his cock. 

Jack trailing his hand down the front of my body, stopping where we’re connected, his fingers finding my clit instantly, pinching and rubbing it between his fingers. 

“Oh my god, fuck” I drop my head to jacks neck, still working myself against him.

“Don't stop, don't stop.” I yell out to him, I can feel my legs beginning to shake

“Baby I'm about to cum.” Jack lifts his hand from my clit, forcely grabbing the back of my head, smashing our lips together, teeth and tongues clashing. 

One last snap of our hips, and I'm cumming. My head dropping to Jack's shoulder, incoherent things are falling from both our lips as we chase our highs together.

After a few seconds I gained enough strength to pull myself up. I can feel Jack's hand rubbing up and down my back. 

I sit back enough to fully look at him. Our chests falling quickly, trying to catch our breaths.  “That was the hottest thing I've ever seen.'' Jack says to me, his hand moving to push hair out of my face. “Did so good for me baby” I smile at him, before I'm quickly pulled back into reality when I remember his shoulder.

“Jack. your shoulder” i say frantically, “are you hurt? I knew we should have done this. Oh god "I say as I'm trying to push myself off of him quickly. 

“Hey hey, baby I'm fine.” Jack says as he grabs a hold of my face, his eyes locked with mine. “Hell, I'm more than fine. I'm great, all because of you” he smiles fully at me. 

My nerves settle a little, as I look over at him to make sure he's actually okay. Jack laughs at my concern as his face follows my movements. “Baby i promise i'm okay” he chuckles out to me again.

“Okay sorry, for caring about you.” I sigh dramatically out to him. “Hey now, none of that” he says, pulling my face closer to his again. 

“Come kiss me better.” he whispers out before connecting our lips. 

[blastoqueen]

Sunrise.

Chapter 6

Rating: Teen and Up

Relationships: Noa x Mae (Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes)

Content warnings: None

Comments: English is not my first language. This is my last chapter before going back to Med School :(

“How are Noa… and you?” Anaya asked, a little scared to make the female angry or uncomfortable, he knew it was a sensible topic and that the more-than-just-a-friendship thing between them was long time dead.

“Fine” Soona said “He is my friend… like you”

The curiosity was killing Anaya, so he pushed the limits a little bit.

“I know you… were… too close” the male avoided eye contact.

His friend just stood there, not making any movements or showing any emotions.

“Can I be… honest with you, Anaya?”

“Yes! Of course”

Soona inhaled.

“I hoped Noa would see me as… something more… than just his friend” even though her words were sad, her face only showed serenity “He took me… to see the world… once we were… free from Proximus. However… I knew he didn’t… love me that much”

“Oh no, no, no, no, Soona” the male said, he reached to his friend and hugged her tight “He loves you… very much. I do too”

The smaller ape laughed a little, hugging her friend back. When they let go, she continued.

“But you know… what I mean” Anaya looked at the floor, feeling sad for her “And then Mae came back… I didn’t… trust her. And when she… left again I begged… Noa to let her go. He didn’t, but I learned to… forgive. Mae is good and she… is my friend”

He wanted to tell her about the night Mae and Noa were out to see the lighting dancers, but he promised not to tell anyone, so he stayed silent. All he could do was take Soona’s hand in his and act like a true friend.

-----------

“Is this another secret spot you wanted to show me?” Mae said. She and the ape were doing a light climbing in a destroyed three-story building covered in leaves.

“No. I want to teach you how to be strong” Noa said, grabbing a branch and pushing himself up.

“I am strong” Mae said, panting.

“When you came to the village you were a twig”

“Sorry for being held captive in a quarantine bunker”

“No excuses”

They were only halfway through when Mae stopped, hugging a big branch with both arms, closing her eyes and exhaling.

“Mae?” the male came closer to the human, hanging only from one arm and feet.

He put his other hand on top of Mae´s head, gently caressing her hair.

“What is wrong?”

“I just… need a minute”

“I´m bringing you to the village”

“No! No, I can. I just need to rest a little bit”

“Mae”

“I can do it”

The Echo reached another branch, but quickly slipped, Noa held her by the waist, while all her limbs hung loose.

The ape took her to the ground and Mae sat immediately.

“Sorry, but the sun and the height…”

“It's okey”

“Tomorrow we can try again”

“Sure”

Noa was a little devastated, he felt anger at himself. He wanted to pretend Mae was the same as him, or maybe that she could be like him, but they were so different in many aspects. He used to think maybe she was weak even among her own, but he had seen her killed Trevathan…

Maybe it was time to accept the reality. They were different.

Why was he trying to make them both seem equal?

“So that it wouldn’t be so weird to have these feelings”

“Let´s go to the village. And then you… can teach me how to read” Noa said.

Mae looked up and made a strange face, the ape was taken back at that.

“I… no”

No?

“Oh. I just thought… you could teach me some things from your… people” he felt shy, embarrassed, suddenly, his hands became awkward.

“I can´t teach you more things” Mae murmured “Sorry”

“Is that… forbidden?”

“For me, yeah, it is”

“For you?” Noa sat besides her “Is someone forbidding you?”

“No, Noa. I am forbidding myself… from teaching you”

He was getting more confused every time, maybe the girl was really tired…

Right when he was about to offer they return to the village, the Echo spoke.

“I can´t teach the apes. It´s dangerous”

“What?”

Mae refused to look him in the eyes.

“I can not believe you” Noa sighed, he got up and stared at the human “Dangerous? Why would it be dangerous?”

“It is, Noa!” Mae said exasperated, she stood up and almost fall back, Noa resisted the urge to catch her “You are already… evolving. Remember what Proximus said? Those weapons in the bunker would have help the apes to evolve and we don´t want that! Weapons and guns are not the only way your kind can evolve, Noa, knowledge can do that too”

“So you will not share it. Because you are scared that we become… better than you humans. Is that so, Mae?”

“Yes” her face showed security.

Noa walked towards the human and stood in front of her. They were almost the same heigh, both pair of eyes watching each other intensely.

“You are so fake” the ape chuckle “Every time I think you had change… you just prove me wrong. You pretend and lie and steal. Are all humans… like you, Mae? Or are you just a rotten apple among them?”

“Shut up! You stupid animal!” Mae yelled furious, pushing the ape with both hands, only moving him a little.

“How does it feel, Mae? Watching me… evolve”

“You will never know how it feels to be completely human” the human started to cry, tears rolling down her cheeks, anger in her eyes.

“I don’t want to be human” Noa said “And I don’t need you to help me... evolve. I fixed the electric spear… without help and without you, remember?”

“Your time is over, Noa. I delivered the key, got that? The book that could make humans speak again. It´s only a matter of time before the humans reunite and be strong again, it will be our planet again”

“The things with us, princess, is that we don’t claim the planet. We… live here, but it is not ours!”

“You wouldn’t understand”

“No? Am I too dumb, Mae?”

“You didn’t see the world with us in it”

“And you did? How old are you, Mae? Because… I am sure that you never saw the world… either”

“You are being too... cruel” Noa could see the pain in her eyes, the puffy face and red cheeks. The tiredness.

Did he cross the line?

“Let´s go to the village” Noa said, lowering his voice but keeping the cold tone in it.

“I´ll go by myself. I know were it is” Mae started to walk when the ape grabbed her arm. Why did he keep doing that?

“No. We are going together”

“After all that… what makes you think I want your company?”

“I don’t care if you want it or not. I am not… leaving you”

“Whatever” she said with disdain, pushing him away from her.

They started walking putting some distance between them. The ape could hear Mae´s sobs.

Were they going to be able to forgive each other for the words said today?

"Would I ever forgive myself for making her cry?"

[deceptibots]

“That Much” - Ratchet x Reader

“I don’t even want your attention – that much.”

Prompt by @/creativepromptsforwriting

Pairings -> Ratchet x Y/N

Warnings -> None

Genre/Theme -> fluff, teasing

Note -> n/a

Word count -> 645 words

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The med bay was quiet for once, the hum of machinery was the only sound as you organized supplies. It was the kind of peaceful moment that rarely lasted long, but you savored it when you could. Ratchet was at his workstation across the room, completely engrossed in a series of scans. His posture, as always, was tense, his focus absolute.

“You know,” you said casually, breaking the silence, “if you sit hunched over like that any longer, you’re going to turn into a walking question mark.”

He didn’t even look up, his servos continuing their work. “I wasn’t aware I’d asked for your ergonomic advice, Y/N.”

You smirked, leaning against the counter. “You didn’t. I’m just generously offering it. You’re welcome.”

He muttered something in Cybertronian, the tone unmistakably annoyed.

Despite his usual gruffness, you couldn’t help but enjoy pushing his buttons. It had become something of a pastime—Ratchet might act like you were a thorn in his side, but you knew he didn’t actually mind. Not as much as he claimed, anyway.

“Come on, Doc,” you continued, walking over to his workstation. “You’re always telling me to take care of myself. When’s the last time you stretched those massive shoulders of yours?”

“I don’t have time for trivialities,” he replied, still not looking at you.

“Oh, but you have time to yell at me about proper posture?”

“That’s because you’re reckless,” he said flatly.

“Or maybe you just like lecturing me,” you shot back, grinning.

Finally, he sighed, setting down his tools and glancing at you. “Do you have a point, Y/N? Or is this another one of your attempts to distract me?”

You shrugged, meeting his gaze with a playful glint in your eyes. “I don’t even want your attention – that much.”

The words hung in the air, and for the first time, Ratchet didn’t have a quick retort. He tilted his head slightly, his optics narrowing as he studied you.

“That much?” he echoed, his tone carrying a hint of something you couldn’t quite place.

“Yeah,” you said, trying to sound nonchalant. “You know, just enough to keep things interesting.”

He straightened slightly, his optics still locked on you. “Interesting,” he repeated, his voice dry but softer than usual.

You felt a faint flush creeping up your neck. “You know what I mean.”

“Do I?” he asked, his tone almost teasing.

You blinked, caught off guard by the faint smirk tugging at the edges of his mouth. Ratchet didn’t smirk. He scowled, he grumbled, he huffed—but this? This was new.

“Are you… amused?” you asked, pointing an accusing finger at him.

“Of course not,” he said smoothly, though the glint in his optics said otherwise. “I’m simply marveling at your… creativity.”

“Uh-huh,” you said, crossing your arms. “Well, I’m glad I could entertain you, Doc.”

He leaned back slightly, his expression relaxing more than you’d ever seen. “It’s a rare occurrence,” he admitted.

“Is that your way of saying you enjoy my company?” you asked, grinning.

He huffed, his servos returning to his tools. “Don’t let it go to your head, Y/N.”

You laughed, turning back to your work with a warmth in your chest you didn’t quite expect.

The med bay had quieted even further, the soft hum of Ratchet’s tools the only sound as you finished tidying up. As you started to leave, his voice stopped you.

“Y/N.”

You turned, surprised to see him looking at you directly, his optics steady but lacking their usual sharpness.

“For what it’s worth,” he said, his voice quieter now, “your… attention is not entirely unwelcome.”

You blinked, momentarily stunned. Then, a slow smile spread across your face. “Careful, Doc. Keep talking like that, and I might start thinking you like me.”

He rolled his optics but didn’t deny it. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Ratchet,” you replied, your smile lingering as you walked away.

[webslingingslasher]

J!!! I don't remember if nerdy!peter plays video games but I'm pretty sure he does 😓 how would he react when angel keeps wanting his attention but he keeps saying 10 more minutes so she gets annoyed 😓😓

I literally love all your Peter's sm idek how u have the mind for all this!!

*cleaning out my drafts* wheew boy, i hope you guys remember nerdy!peter. he's been on a shelf too long!

peter doesn't even blink when you kiss the side of his face- he doesn't notice in the slightest. you hold in a sigh and mutter out a half-hearted goodbye.

'i'm leaving, i'll call you later.'

suddenly, peter's available to talk. 'woah, wait, you're leaving? why?' you bite your tongue, there's a dozen things you want to say and none of them are nice. if you stay, you'll cause a fight.

'because i'm mad at you and if i don't, we're gonna have a fight.' peter gives you puppy dog eyes, he's pre-apologizing and he doesn't know what for yet. they always soften you but when he turns away to check his screen, you harden right back up.

'i had no eyes, sorry, sorry. med pack, please.' you can only put up with so much and a game taking priority over your relationship was just a straw too much. 'you're about to have no girlfriend.'

peter hits mute real fast, tossing his headset off and standing up even quicker. he's looking at you like a deer in headlights, 'you said what?'

'i shouldn't have to threaten a break up for you to listen to me, peter.'

'i was listening! you were fine then all of a sudden you're stomping out of here and calling me single.' he’s not allowed to care when you get mad, he should've cared the last five times he said ten more minutes.

'i'm leaving.'

peter blocks the door, you cross your arms over your chest. 'talk to me.' you're being petty because it's the first time he's giving you attention since you've been here. it's nice to have him worry over you.

'no, i'm mad at you.'

'yeah, i picked up on that. wanna tell me why?' your eyes narrow, he can’t act cute when you're pissy. 'no.' peter gives you a pity smile but he's not sad at all. 'then i can't let you leave, sorry.'

'you think holding me captive will fix things?' there was a snap with your voice, peter takes a step away from the door. he was half and half with your tone but after that he feels the need to back down.

'you're actually mad at me.' peter doesn't like when you're upset with him, it makes him feel all itchy. 'you can leave, angel. if you think it'll help, you can leave. but i would really like it if you told me what was going on first.'

you and peter make communication a priority but this time you want to be childish. if he couldn't understand why you were mad, he obviously didn't respect your time. you wouldn't act like this if it was the first time, but it’s everytime you come over and he's already on his computer.

you're getting tired of begging for your boyfriend to choose you over a video game, especially after he told you to come over.

'no. i'm leaving and i want you to think about why i would be mad at you.' peter whines in return, he hates when you don't give him an answer. 'angel, please. this is punishment enough.'

the issue is how well you know him. he's going to pout and give you kisses while he tells you how sorry he is and he never meant to make you feel ignored. it always makes you forgive him too quick, you don't want him to apologize for it, you want him to acknowledge it.

'you're gonna try to excuse it and kiss it better and i don't want that. i want you to look me in the eye and tell me you've been shitty.' peter's already giving you that pouty look, you ignore the clench your heart gives when he pulls you closer by your hips.

'i'm still gonna kiss it better, i'll just tell you i'm shitty while i do it.' you don't gripe when he gives you a chaste kiss. you don't tell yourself you're going back on your word, just that he didn't give you one when you first got here.

'wanna tell me why i made you mad?' you love when peter talks to you like this. it's not a whisper, but it's low. it's almost guttural- a ring of sexual if you looked at it the right way. when he pairs it with two wet kisses to your cheek, you have to remind yourself to stay strong.

'your game.' you silently moan when peter pushes your back against his door, he drops a mark to your neck. 'mhm, what about my game?' you're not sliding a hand into his hair to egg him on, it's to support yourself, that's it.

'you were ignoring me again.'

peter's lips catch anywhere they can meet, you think you're about to start sweating. 'i hate begging for your attention, i don't want to do it anymore.' peter's kissing your sweet spot, you try to keep your focus.

'angel, no one has my attention more than you.' there's only so much you can fight and peter's pillowy kisses isn't one of them. you're not forgiving, you're just compartmentalizing. plus peter's the best damn kisser you've ever had.

‘until you’re on discord with your friends.’ you’re reminded of your anger, you push peter off and glare at him. ‘if i didn’t tell you i was leaving, would you have even noticed?’

'of course i would, i check on you every couple of minutes.' peter might suck at giving up a winning streak but he makes sure to put his eyes on you every two minutes.

'making sure i'm still here isn't the same as giving me attention. and dump me if i'm wrong, but i want a boyfriend who's a little obsessed with me.' peter kisses the middle of your throat, it spurs more frustration.

'if you wanted to fuck me, you should've done something about it an hour ago. you don't get to disrespect me then put your dick in me.' peter exhales over your skin, it feels like a laugh. you don't know why he thinks you're joking. he reads your mind before you can say it.

'angel, i'm not trying to seduce you. i'm trying to show you how obsessed you make me.' you give him your neck and he softly bites, just like that, the fight's over. 'go on... i'm listening.'

'i've been shitty.'

peter's kisses make sense, they've been on a subtle trail downwards. he sinks to his knees on the floor, hooking your leg around his shoulder and looking up at you. looking up with his angelolatry duties.

'and now i'm gonna kiss it better.' 

[blckbrrybasket]

20. “Sweet As Whiskey”

Vampire!Eddie Munson x Afab!Reader

꒰Blood Kink + Period꒱ - 2.0k

• oral (r receiving), period blood!!, friends

kinktober m.list

Eddie was rather neutral about being a vampire. There was good and bad that came with it, as anything. One thing he couldn’t determine if it was a good thing or a bad thing though, was being able to smell blood so intensely. It helped him hunt, but it also made it extremely hard to stay away from you when you were on your period.

You hadn’t yet connected the dots of why some days he’d drop off the face of the earth after getting you chocolate, ice cream, and whatever else he could think you would need. Then like clockwork after he dropped the items off he’d leave for a few days, coincidentally when you were on your period. Maybe it was a guy thing?

You knew he was a vampire, but he didn’t talk about it a lot. The ins and outs of his ‘condition’ were unclear to you, never once thinking that he could probably smell blood and it was intoxicating to him when you were on your period. No, you tended to be in too much pain from cramps to think deeply about his motivations.

Just like now, you were curled up on your bed, figure aching from the intense cramps. Eddie had been busy for the week, running errands for Wayne, and he had no clue that you had started your period. If it was any normal day, walking into your apartment like he owned it would have been fine, but when he found you on your bed it was far from fine.

“Shit, are you okay?” Eddie had asked, rushing over when the coppery smell hit him. You whimpered in pain, his hand coming up to cover his mouth when he inhaled your scent. Shit, he needed to go…but he couldn’t abandon you when you were in this much pain. “Eds,” you said pathetically, peering at him over your pile of pillows you had made into a makeshift nest. “Fuck,” he coughed, eyebrows pinching together in an expression as if he too was wounded. “How can I help?” You shook your head, eyes watery. “I took meds but they didn’t work.” You didn’t want to tell him that half the pain was from cramps and back pain, the other half being that you were so horny you were pulsing beneath your underwear.

Eddie swallowed thickly, trying to ignore the tempting smell in the air when he sat down on the side of your bed. His jaw ached, desperately needing your blood. You instantly curled up to him, tears threatening to roll down your cheeks at the overwhelming feeling of it all. “I can’t do anything,” you sniffled. Eddie’s arm came around, rubbing at the small of your back as you pushed into his fingers, moaning.

He swallowed a groan, squeezing his eyes shut. “Yes you can, you’re the strongest person I know. Practically god or something,” he joked to no avail. “I can’t!” You whimpered, getting worked up. “I hurt so much and I can’t even do the one thing I want.” “Which is?” You stilled, eyes widening.

“Nothing,” you grumbled, shoving your face into Eddie’s side. He shook his head, curls bouncing, “Ah-ah. Come here.” His hands slid to grab your face, coaxing it back out. “What is it?” Your lips were pulled into a petulant pout that only made him chuckle more. Finding the humor in the situation helped him ignore the fact he was seconds away from falling to his knees to beg to drink your blood.

“I can’t come, I can’t do anything about it. Everything hurts too much, none of my toys are good.” Eddie sighed sympathetically knowing how you felt, hoping you didn’t see the growing bulge in his jeans. “What if…what if I helped you?” Your wide eyes seemed to somehow look more shocked. “Really?”

“Yeah, why not. You help me all the time.” You laughed, sniffing. “I help you with selling weed, not giving you handjobs.” Eddie shrugged and moved to roll over, propping himself up by your legs. “Same thing.” It was not by any means, but it was pointless to argue with Eddie.

“Are you sure? It’s not pretty...like at all.” Eddie rolled his eyes, looking up at you with an expression as if to say are you serious right now. “Babe, I’m a fucking vampire.” A look of shock passed your face as he reminded you. It made sense now why he left when you were on your period, or least the first few days of it. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

Eddie laughed, slipping his scrunchie off his wrist to throw his curls up into a bun. “So you’re doing this for you,” you playfully accused. Eddie grinned wickedly, “I will neither confirm nor deny.” He didn’t have to say it was mainly for you, you already knew, but it was also to relieve the blood lust he was feeling. Rolling your eyes, you maneuvered to lay on your back, keeping your legs bent up to help with the rolling pain in your abdomen. 

“Freak.” You taunted him. He simply licked his lips, “Now you’re getting it sweetheart.” His charm was ever present, but the kinder Eddie was now replaced with the wilder version you knew and loved. Eddie laid on his stomach, splaying his arms on your thighs while he studied you for a moment. “What’s good and what’s not?”

He wouldn’t admit that it was his first time he was doing this while his partner was on their period, but he still needed to know what was good. You shifted nervously, halting when Eddie placed a hand on your waist. “Just your mouth please.” Eddie nodded, lowering his mouth to the waistband of your shorts. “So polite.”

His teeth sunk into the elastic, backing up as he slid them down your legs when you witnessed possibly the most beautiful thing on earth. Eddie’s dark eyes rolled as he groaned at the smell of you being further uncovered. You bit your lip, whimpering at his reaction. Unable to wait any longer, his hand pulled your shorts the rest of the way down as he made his way back up your legs.

Eddie hooked his fingers over the edge of your underwear and pulled them down, salivating at the sight of you. Puffy and wet with blood, wiry hair leading to what he so desperately craved. You winced, looking at the sight of your bloody pad, but Eddie didn’t bat an eye, setting it to the side. Having a towel would be smart, but Eddie was never known for his patience.

“Jeez-us sweetheart,” Eddie huffed, lowering back to lay on his stomach, eye level with your sore pussy. If most guys were scared of this he knew they were stupid. Eddie was salivating at the sight, not only because his body was programmed to need blood. He couldn’t help leaning in, the bridge of his nose bumping your sensitive clit as he breathed you in, you smelled even more like yourself now. Your hips jumped as his nose brushed against your clit, his hands pressing your hips back down.

Oh how he wanted to be rough, but he wouldn’t, refused to. Not when you needed him like this. “I’ve got you,” he muttered, opening his eyes to look up at you. Something had shifted in them even if you weren’t entirely sure what it was. His tongue drags over you so slowly, relishing in the taste of your blood. It was a tentative move, figuring out how to not hurt you with his sharp canines.

You gasp out, the sensation sending a wave of pleasure through the pain radiating in your gut. Eddie took his time to make sure he was as gentle as he could be, tongue not as sharp as it was when he usually gave head. He couldn’t help how much he was drooling as he swept his tongue through your bloodied labia. It was intoxicating, Eddie’s brain growing clouded as he licked at you.

His eyes fell shut as he fell into a practiced rhythm. You were already so sensitive from being worked up, your period making you tighter than usual. As if he sensed it, Eddie didn’t press his tongue into you, happily licking away at you. The ache deep in the roots of his fangs ebbed away as he got what he needed. It was messy, blood and spit forming a pinkish puddle under you on the sheets, but he didn’t back down.

Eddie started a slow stroke of his tongue from your hole to your clit, working his way up quicker to swirl his tongue over your clit, sending sparks racing up your spine. The heat that was present in your body gives way to a nicer warmth that cradles your body as Eddie eats you out. Your stomach clenches, threatening to hurt like your cramps when Eddie slides a large hand under the small of your back. The slight change in angle lets you relax further, the backs of your knees moving to lay over his shoulders.

Eddie sucks gently at your lips and runs his tongue over every part of you like you’re his life source. Surely he wasn’t going to die from not drinking blood for a week, but your blood was so thick on his tongue, coating the muscle entirely he was sure he would die if he didn’t get enough of you. Your blood was different than the wetness he was used to, it was stronger and there was so, so much of it. 

Every instinct in his body pushed him to keep going until there was no more left to get. He slurps away at the mix of slick, blood, and his spit that coats you. When Eddie lifts his head there's a thick coating of blood across his mouth and chin. If you weren’t watching him you would have thought he’d gotten into a fight. “Shit, Eddie.” His eyes immediately snap to yours.

“Say that again.” You whine at the way your cunt tightens, “Eddie.” He groans, lowering his head again, tongue flicking over your entrance. Your cunt tingles, abdomen pulling tight from his movements. “Fuck, Eds,” you continued spurring him on with your whines.

Eddie’s messy when he eats you up, blood smeared across your mound and thighs. You didn’t doubt that he’d clean it up with his tongue later, body shuddering at the thought of him sucking your thighs clean. Your body subtly bends up, gentle bucks of your hips following his ministrations.

The sparks at the base of your spine lick their way into your abdomen as your body tenses further. Squeezing your eyes shut, you keen. “Eddie, I'm close. Don’t you dare stop.” Eddie chuckles into you, knowing how serious you are. He didn’t dare consider stopping when he was about to watch his favorite person come.

Overwhelming pleasure bursts in you like fireworks, silent screams on your lips as you come. Eddie was only spurred on, working you through it as your cum pushes your blood farther into his mouth. He wiggles his tongue from side to side, greedily sucking up every last drop that you released. Salt mixed with copper on his tongue, melting into a satisfying concoction.

Eddie finally pulls away when you cry out at the overstimulation, air cooling his bloodstained lips as air hits your cunt at the same time. He merely grins, teeth stained red. “You look like a mess,” you laugh as he licks his lips. He shrugs, not caring about your insults when he can still taste you on your tongue. “Only because of you.” You smile, hand falling to your abdomen where your cramps have significantly lessened.

“Did it work?” Eddie asks in a muffled voice, eyes on your gut while he sucks on the fingers that wiped his chin clean. Snickering, you nod. “Good,” he boasts, fingers leaving his mouth. “Next time you need help again, ask.” You roll your eyes, “Who says there’s a next time?” 

Eddie was too sure of himself and you were too stubborn to admit that he was right. “Like you’ll turn me away,” he snorts, tracing his hand along your sides. “You’re right…I pity you too much.” Eddie grins. “Whatever gets me into your bed,” His fangs nipped at your messy thigh, a smug look on his face.

“Idiot.”

tags: @babybatlover, @starrgurl46, @wowzers-07, @nenukkjhj, @morgan0lw21, @kinokomoonshine, @slut4ddn, @adventures-of-impala, @dreamerjj

[that1emowitch]

Bruce, high on painkillers, is being babysat by Jason. Jason has to do an emergency Red Hood thing, and lacking an alternative, slaps a stock domino on Bruce and drags him along.

Bruce proceeds to say/do the most unhinged shit. The goons are suddenly viscerally aware of where Hood got it from.

WOW okay you guys are unhinged, you know that?

(And I love it <3)

A/N: I fully intended to write a crack fic, but the feels crawled in through the plot holes I missed and made their homes in the heart of the story. Also I don't know what you mean by 'stock domino' so I'm assuming it's one of those dollar store ripoffs.

(TW: Accidental overdosing on painkillers, mentions of blood, Jason's usual level of swearing, some goons almost dying but like in a funny way.)

Word Count: 2328

Jason wants to scream.

Like, let it rip out on an abandoned cliff in the howling rain kinda scream.

But no, he's stuck babysitting Brucie Wayne who accidentally OD'd on fucking painkillers after trying to treat himself in Alfred's unfortunate absence (how does that even happen?!).

Dick and Damian are out doing some brotherly-bonding thing, Tim's with the Titans, Duke and Cass are at the movies, and Steph has declared herself "not one of Bruce's kids." Leaving Jason as the only one free to look after their "Dad".

Jason pushes Bruce down on the Batcave's gurney for the billionth time after he attempts (keyword: attempts) to walk again, scowling. None of them are getting any waffles from me again. Or pancakes. Or scones. Or anything I make for them out of my sweet, kind heart. Those little shits.

Jason puts two fingers on Bruce’s wrist, checking his pulse. His skin is cold and clammy, breathing slow, but at least he’s not vomiting anymore. He sighs, collapsing on a chair beside Bruce. He's tired. So fucking tired.

Just as Jason's eyes flutter shut for a moment, the Batcomputer's alarm suddenly blares.

Bruce shoots up, shouting, "ALARM!"

Grumbling, Jason drags himself to the computer, pushing Bruce down along the way. He opens the glaring red notification, brows creased.

Black Mask's goons have intercepted some military shipment...

"Ugh..." Jason groans, and moves to put on his helmet (he never changed out of his costume), checking his guns, when a sudden crash from behind him snaps his attention to the man-child he's supposed to be babysitting.

Bruce has stepped off the gurney and collapsed face-down on the med bay's floor.

He can't just leave him there, can he?

Jason considers his options: He could either strap Bruce to the gurney and leave (in which case Dick will have his head), or he could take Bruce out on the streets with him (in which case Dick will absolutely want to murder him.)

Jason smirks. It’s obvious which one’s the right choice.

Ten minutes later, Jason’s riding through the city at over a hundred miles per hour, with Bruce strapped to the backseat of his motorcycle. Bruce is wearing a dollar store ripoff of the Robin domino and a Robin-themed cape made of Tim’s bedsheets, looking absolutely ecstatic at the high speed.

They arrive at the warehouse where Black Mask’s goons have transported their stolen goods, parking in a shadowed spot a building away. Jason gets off, helping Bruce onto his feet, and says, “Now, I’m going to go shoot some people, you stay hidden and quiet, got that?”

“Guns are bad,” Bruce replies, holding a finger to Jason’s helmet. “Just like clowns. And ducks.”

Raising an eyebrow, Jason shakes his head. He doesn’t have time for this right now.

Jason quickly scales the nearest building, grappling to the roof of the warehouse. He peeks in through a hatch in the roof to survey the area. There are about a dozen armed goons, none of them looking very bright. There are 4 crates they’re guarding, likely filled with ammo.

Cocking his guns, Jason jumps down through the hatch, landing right in the middle of the warehouse with a ‘thud’ sound. “Surprise,” He grins, raising his guns.

“Aye, that’s Red Hood, ain’t it?” Comes a goon’s terrified voice. The others around him immediately aim their guns at Jason— they’re clearly untrained.

Suddenly there’s another thud behind him. “That’s a bucket, you morons!” Comes a too-familiar, slurred voice. Jason turns around to come face-to-face with Bruce, eyes wide. 

In a fight with any real criminals, this distraction would have cost Jason his life. But luckily these adorably clueless goons are just as shocked as him.

Unfortunately the distraction only lasts for a few seconds. Jason immediately jumps into the fight, shooting three goons in the kneecaps and dodging a few bullets. From the corner of his eye, he sees two more goons running out the door, crying. He punches another guy in the face, instantly knocking him out, and is about to turn back to check on Bruce when suddenly something hard collides with his skull.

Jason staggers slightly, trying to regain his balance, when he sees a goon holding a giant stone, wearing a proud grin.

Fuck, his helmet’s probably busted…

Then suddenly Bruce is running towards the goon, hands fisted and veins popping, screaming, “NO ONE HURTS MY SON!”

Then Bruce’s fist collides with the goon’s with a sickening crunch, splattering blood across the floor as the man crumples to the ground. Bruce doesn’t stop there, and continues to beat him up, yelling profanities.

It warms Jason’s cold, (un)dead heart to watch that— to see his Dad fighting for him. It’s like they say, you’re most truthful when you’re drunk— or high. This is how much Bruce loves him.

Then another thought strikes him— Bruce is going to regret being this violent when he sobers up. It’s going to claw at him, tear him up, and he’s going to compartmentalize and end up punishing himself by overworking.

Jason rushes forward, pulling Bruce off of the man. “B— Robin, stop!” He shouted, looking into the man’s domino-covered eyes.

Bruce’s brows furrow. “Robin?”

Jason points to Bruce’s Robin-themed cape and stock domino.

“Ah.” Bruce nods, pulling away. “You okay? Did you see any duck?”

“Duck?” Jason pauses in confusion. But before he can question it farther, he spies the three remaining goons using a ladder to climb up through the roof of the warehouse, trying to escape.

“Stay here. And do not move.” Jason orders Bruce, and runs after them.

He makes his way up the ladder as fast as he can , exiting under the polluted night sky. The goons, the ridiculously stupid goons, are standing around the edge of the roof, trying to figure out how they’re going to get down.

He doesn’t get paid enough to deal with this ridiculous shit.

Actually, scratch that, he doesn’t get paid at all.

“Wow, you guys are pathetic,” Comes Red Hood’s robotic voice, startling the goons, and one of them accidentally topples over the edge, screaming. Jason ensures that the guy’s hanging on tight— he can wait.

He cocks his guns, aiming both at the two standing goons. Both men are trembling with fear, hands up in surrender. “Hood— Mr. Hood, please—” One of them squeaks, but one look from Jason shuts him up.

“Please. Mr. Hood was my father,” Jason quips, his robotic chuckle sounding sinister. 

That’s when he hears another voice behind him (again)— “But I’m your father.”

Jason jumps, whipping around. “How did you— I didn’t even hear you come!”

Bruce just shrugs innocently, waving his bloodstained hands at the terrified goons.

Then Jason hears the distinct sound of a gun being cocked. From the corner of his eye he sees the bolder of the goons, the one that had spoken before, taking aim.

“DUCK!” He yells, falling out of the way.

Instead of dodging, Bruce falls into a defensive stance, looking around frantically. “Where?!”

The bullet barely misses Bruce’s ear as he turns his head.

Jason has had it with sky-high Bruce now. Annoyance rising, he quickly shoots the two goons in the kneecaps, forgetting about the one hanging off the edge, and stalks up to Bruce, glaring.

“What is up with you and ducks?!” He demands, his voice raised.

“Ducks are evil,” Bruce spits, nose wrinkled. “Just like clowns. And bats.”

Jason’s brows raise. “Bats are evil?”

“Yeah, duh, that’s why everyone’s scared of Batman.” Bruce rolls his eyes, his drawl sounding too much like Steph. “Bats are scary.”

“You really took ‘become what you fear’ too literally, huh?” Jason snorts, putting his guns back in their holsters. Then he takes off his helmet, checking the damage— just a slight crack at the back. Not too bad.

“You know, I fell into a hole and into a cave when I was a boy and a dozen bats attacked me. I nearly died.” Bruce continues, gesturing towards the air with his hands. 

“Yeah, right.” Jason shakes his head, chuckling. “Now come on, we gotta get you back.”

That’s when another voice rings out, high-pitched and scared. “Um, Mr. Hood? Please HELP! Please, please, please—”

Jason’s attention snaps to the corner of the roof— ah, right, the goon’s still hanging off the edge, isn’t he?

He grumbles, making his way over, and squats above the man, shaking his head. The man below him looks like he’s pissed himself, face ashen, tears running down his cheeks, muttering, “I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die…” On repeat.

“I’ll pull you up on one condition,” Jason looks down at him, voice low. “Never become a gun for hire again. If I see you fighting on the streets…” He pulls out his gun.

“No, no, I won’t, I swear…” The man whimpers, eyes squeezed shut. Jason sighs, and grabs the man by the collar and hauls him up. He crumples onto the roof, curling into a ball.

“Take out your phone and dial 911, tell them you’ve been naughty,” Jason orders, his gun pointed at the man’s head. (What? A guy needs to have some fun.)

The man whines, and immediately obliges.

“Pathetic,” Jason ties the man up quickly, and makes his way over to Bruce, who was sitting on the floor of the roof, taking apart some random crushed handphone he’s found.

“Get up, old man. GCPD will be here soon. We’re going home.” He pulls Bruce up, ignoring how he longingly stares at the dismantled phone.

The two of them grapple down from the roof, landing safely on the pavement. As they walk towards his bike, Bruce says, “Did you know I ate a phone once?”

Jason stumbles slightly. “What?”

“Tasted nice. Like electricity. Crackle-y.” Bruce hummed, his face straight (as straight as someone dating Superman could be). He isn't kidding.

That, or he's delusional.

“Don't try it. You might turn into a computer or something.” Bruce nodded very seriously.

“Oh god,” Jason snorts. “I'm so glad my helmet’s recording all this. Perfect blackmail material.”

“Black's a very, very pretty color.”

Jason rolls his eyes, revving the motor, making sure Bruce is safely strapped onto the backseat behind him. “You're just emo.”

“What's emo?” Bruce raises an eyebrow, words slightly slurred.

“Y'know, when people wear all that black makeup, skinny jeans, with hair covering their eyes.” Jason explains, putting a spare helmet on Bruce's head. “And listen to, like, My Chemical Romance and Fall Out Boy and Panic! At The Disco. The Emo Trinity.”

“Oh, oh!” Bruce's eyes sparkle. “Dickie used to do that! He went to a My Chemmy concert once, but he didn't want me coming along.” He pouts.

Jason thinks of all the times Gerard Way has shoved a mic down his throat and grabbed his junk. “Yeah, I wonder why.”

Then he turns around to look Bruce in the eye. “But, Golden Boy was emo? Seriously?”

Bruce just smiles and nods, saying, “Now go.”

“Going,” Jason smirks and speeds down the streets of Gotham city, not slowing down until their surroundings change from shitty apartment buildings and broken street lights to the eerie quiet of Bristol. He can see the Manor in the distance when he takes a hidden turn, straight down the road that leads to the Batcave. 

He pulls into the underground ‘garage’ section of the Cave, parking his bike before helping Bruce off. As he removes Bruce’s ripoff domino and “cape”, he says sternly, “Now, you tell no one of what we did today, got that? Not a soul.”

Bruce just flashes a thumbs-up and smiles in the most un-Bruce-like way possible. It’s a little creepy, honestly.

“And even if you remember this once you sober up you won’t talk, because you swore on your soul not to tell.”

“Mhm. Kay.”

“Good.” Jason smiles slightly, helping Bruce back to the gurney, making him lie down. He checks him over for any symptoms that the painkiller overdose is making his health worse. His skin’s still cold and clammy, but his breathing’s more steady. His pupils aren’t as small anymore, and he’s way more responsive than he was an hour ago.

Huh. Maybe all he really needed was some exercise.

Jason sits down beside his father, taking a deep breath. “Hey, uh… Did you really mean that, back there? That… That I’m your son?”

Bruce’s brows furrow. “Yes, who else’s son would you be? Superman’s?”

A short laugh escapes Jason. He moves closer to Bruce, lying down so his head is resting beside the older man’s. “I just…” He sighs, unable to form the right words. “I know it doesn’t always seem like it, but… I love you, Dad.”

“Aww, Jaybird…” Bruce’s hand moves sluggishly to cradle Jason. “I love you so much more than you could ever imagine.”

A small smile plays on Jason’s lips as he closes his eyes, leaning into his Dad’s touch. Maybe… maybe babysitting a high Bruce isn’t so bad.

[BONUS!!!]

Dick walks into the infirmary nearly an hour later with Damian trailing behind him, intending to check up on Bruce. He’s been ringing Jason’s phone for a while now, but he hasn’t been picking up. And… Honestly, Dick’s getting worried.

“Tt. I knew we shouldn’t have left Father’s safety in the hands of an incompetent fool such as Todd,” Damian frowns, scowling.

“No, no, it’s probably just a misunderstanding,” Dick tries to reassure his baby brother, but he picks up his pace. “I mean, we both know what Jason’s like. One moment he’s nice, one moment he’s—”

His voice trails off as he sees Jason sitting on a chair beside Bruce, who’s on the gurney— both asleep, with Jason’s head resting on Bruce’s shoulder, and Bruce cradling him.

“Aww, Little Wing…” Dick smiles, pausing. Even Damian freezes behind him. Dick steers him away, back into the main house, so as to not disturb the sleeping pair. “Yeah, they’re okay. Nothing bad happened.”

[thegladescameragirl]

THE GLADE’S CAMERA GIRL.

Chapter #2, The Only Girl.

POV: THOMAS

What is this place?"

He shifted on his feet for a moment before extending his hand toward me. "Let me show you." He smiled.

I began to reach out, my fingers hesitating mid-air, when a blood-curdling scream tore through the silence like a blade. My breath hitched, my heart lurching in my chest as the sound clawed at my ears. For a moment, it was as though time froze—my skin prickling, stomach twisting with an instinctive dread. Both of us froze, heads snapping toward the sound.

"Shit, Greenie," Alby muttered before sprinting toward the source, a few other boys following suit. Those who weren't already at the Med-hut joined the commotion. Alby left the pit's entrance open, and curiosity got the better of me. I slipped outside, pushing past the crowd. Shouts and clattering echoed through in the hut, the chaos growing louder as I shoved my way forward.

Once through the wall of boys, I saw her. The girl from earlier. She was wide-eyed and frantic, hurling whatever objects she could get her hands on at the approaching boys.

"Where am I?! Who are you people?! Did you kidnap me?!" she shouted, her voice trembling with anger and fear. She launched a tin bowl at Alby, who was trying to approach her calmly with his hands raised in surrender.

"What the hell happened?" Alby demanded, stepping back slightly to avoid another projectile.

Jeff, I presume, hunched behind one of the bunks, shouted over the ruckus, "She freaked out as soon as we woke her up! I swear, we didn't do anything!"

"What do you want with me?!" she demanded, her voice breaking as her gaze darted between the boys.

"Listen, lady, you're acting crazy right now—" said a tall, broad-shouldered boy with dark hair and a sharp jawline. His annoyed expression stood out, his cocky attitude clear in his stance, but the girl was quicker. Her hands patted her pockets frantically before pulling out a small switchblade. The sight of the blade froze the room, tension thick as she swung it in front of her in warning.

Gasps and whispers could be heard around the room as the circle of boys expanded, moving to get farther away from the blade.

"Hey, hey," I stepped forward cautiously, palms up in mock surrender. "Just calm down, okay?"

"Why am I here?!" she snapped, cutting me off, the blade now trembling but still aimed directly at me. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she blinked them away, refusing to show weakness.

I hesitated, my mouth opening and closing as I struggled to answer.

"Look," Alby interrupted, moving beside me, his hands still raised. "None of us know why we're here. Not me, not him, not anybody. We're in the same boat, alright? Now, if you put that thing down, we can talk this out like normal people. I promise, no one's going to hurt you."

Her grip on the blade tightened, her knuckles whitening as though the blade were the only thing tethering her to reality. Thomas couldn't help but notice the way her eyes darted across the room—not just looking for danger, but searching for something, someone, familiar. There was a raw desperation there, a mixture of fear and defiance that he couldn't quite place. She wasn't like the others; she wasn't just afraid. She was ready—ready to fight, to survive, even if the odds were stacked against her. "Where are the other girls?" she asked, her voice quieter but no less urgent.

The room fell into an uneasy silence. Finally, Alby spoke, his tone firm but kind. "There are none."

She blinked, her face paling. "What?"

"There are no other girls here," Alby repeated. "You're the only one."

Her gaze dropped to the floor, her breathing shallow as she processed his words. No other girls. Just her.

In that moment of distraction, the tall, broad-shouldered boy moved. He lunged forward, locking her arms behind her back in one swift motion. The blade clattered to the ground as she thrashed and kicked, her screams cutting through the stunned silence.

"Help me out here!" he shouted, struggling to keep hold of her.

A few other boys rushed forward to assist, some grabbing her arms while others weren't so lucky, finding themselves on the receiving end of a well-placed kick to the chest. It took several of the boys to subdue her, but eventually, they managed to hold her still.

"What now?" a smaller boy with curly hair asked from the doorway, his wiry frame leaning against the wooden post, a smug grin plastered on his face like he was enjoying the chaos.

"Tie her up. Arms and legs," Alby ordered.

Thomas flinched at the command, an uneasy knot forming in his stomach. The words felt wrong somehow—cold, maybe even cruel. He glanced at the girl, her chest heaving as she fought to stay defiant despite her obvious fear. She didn't deserve this—not really. But what other choice did they have?

The tall boy holding her glanced at Alby and groaned. "Really? Fine, i don't care. Someone grab the rope."

A runner—a wiry, tan boy drenched in sweat, his shirt sticking to his back—appeared into the hut suddenly, a question already on his face. "What'd I miss?" His partner behind him peering at the trashed room, as he panted, resting his hands on his knees.

"Minho, help 'em out," Alby barked, ignoring the boy's question.

The tan boy—Minho, I guessed—shrugged and moved toward the struggling girl like it was nothing new. Her arms and legs were already tied together, but that didn't stop her from thrashing wildly as he approached. Without much effort, he scooped her up and threw her over his shoulder, her muffled protests breaking through the chaos. He smirked, seemingly unfazed by the ordeal. "Guess I came back at the right time." 

The girl screamed in protest, pounding her fists against Minho's back. "Put me down! Let me go!"

"Quit moving," Minho muttered as he carried her toward the Pole in the center of the grassy area, where Alby was already leading the way. I trailed behind, my unease growing with every step. I still didn't understand this place, or why this was happening.

When we reached the Pole—a thick wooden beam standing about eight feet tall—the group stopped.

"Tie her up. Tight enough to keep her down, but not enough to hurt her," Alby instructed firmly.

One of the boys ran off and returned moments later with a coil of rope. Minho set her down while the broad-shouldered boy and a few others quickly worked to secure her wrists and ankles. She glared daggers at anyone who met her eyes, her breathing ragged with frustration and fear.

When they stepped back, she shouted, her voice hoarse. "You can't just leave me here!"

Alby crouched to meet her gaze, his tone steady and calm. "We're not leaving you here for long. But until we're sure you're not gonna hurt anyone—or yourself—this is how it's gotta be. You'll get food, water, whatever you need. But we need to trust each other to survive here, alright?"

She didn't respond, her jaw clenched as tears of frustration filled her eyes.

I hesitated before stepping forward. "What's your name?" I asked softly.

She paused for a long moment before finally whispering, "_____."

"Alright, _____," Alby said, straightening up. "Let's start over. We're all in this together, whether we like it or not. Just give it some time. You'll see."

As the crowd began to disperse, I lingered for a moment. My eyes met hers, and I swallowed hard. "You're gonna be okay," I said quietly, though I wasn't sure I believed it myself.

With that, I turned to follow the others, but my feet felt heavy, as if each step pulled at the knot twisting in my stomach. I glanced back over my shoulder, catching the way her gaze darted across the Glade—confusion and disbelief etched into her expression. She looked so small against the vastness of the strange world she'd been dropped into, and for a brief moment, I wondered what she was thinking, what she was feeling. Did she hate us already? Did she think we were monsters? The thought lingered as I turned away again, forcing myself to follow the others, even as her glare burned into my back. I hesitated briefly, turning just enough to meet her eyes again. "I'll come back for you," I promised quietly, the words slipping out before I could stop them. I wasn't sure what I meant, or how I'd keep that promise, but it felt important to say. Her expression flickered—confusion, distrust, and maybe something softer—before I forced myself to keep walking.

___________

Another chapter in! 

Can't wait till people actually start reading it!!!

I took some time on it, writing and double checking for errors or things I wanted to change but, yeah! Reader's introduction!!!

[corroded-hellfire]

Good Girl - Eddie Munson x Reader

Collaboration with the amazing and wonderful @munson-blurbs 💚

Summary: When Eddie reminds you to take your antidepressants, little does he know that he’s stumbling onto one of your favorite kinks.

Note: This is a reminder to take your medicine if you haven’t today. Make Eddie proud.

Warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected (wrap it up), praise kink, corruption kink, allusion to daddy kink, prescribed use of antidepressants

Words: 2.7k

“You’re seriously trying to tell me that Steven Tyler is better than James Hetfield?” Eddie gawks at you with a disbelieving shake of his head, turning off your Aerosmith cassette in protest. 

“I didn’t say that; I said that he has a wider vocal range. Which is factual,” you retort, snapping the tape back in place and cranking up the volume. 

But Eddie’s not buying it; he paces around your room and mumbles under his breath dramatically. Spotting the bright orange bottle on your dresser, he snatches it up and shakes it. “I thought these things were supposed to make your brain work better,” he teases. “Are you sure you took them today?”

It’s meant as a lighthearted joke, but his smile falters when he sees your gaze drop from where he’s putting on his little one-man show. “You did take your bye-bye sad pills today, right?”

You roll your eyes and grab the bottle from his grasp. “They’re called antidepressants,” you grumble, making no effort to hide your annoyance, “and, no; I didn’t.”

“I think my name for them makes them a little more fun,” he says as he flops onto your bed. “But why didn’t you take them?”

There’s no sense hiding anything from Eddie; he’s been your best friend for far too long and can see right through you. “I’m tired of having to rely on medication to be less sad,” you admit. “It’s, well, it’s fucking depressing.” The irony isn’t lost on you.  

Eddie sighs and lifts himself up on one elbow to look at you. “You know, people need medicine in order for their blood pressure to remain stable. Them not wanting to take the meds isn’t going to do anything except have their blood pressure levels either plummet or go through the roof.”

Tilting your head at Eddie, you shoot him an unamused glare. “My blood pressure is fine.”

“Fine,” Eddie says as he pushes himself up into a sitting position. “Go tell Wayne to stop taking his blood pressure medication because he should rely on his heart the way it is. We’ll see what happens.”

The daggers you’re shooting at Eddie only get sharper because both of you know that you can’t come up with a retort for that. When you don’t soften, not even a bit, Eddie groans and drops his head back. 

“C’mon,” he whines. “Be a good girl and take your pills.”

All of the muscles in your body seem to lock as one at the term. Heat begins to crawl its way up your body and you can only pray that it doesn’t appear on your face. 

“W-What did you just say?”

“I said,” Eddie starts, as if being annoyed he has to repeat himself, “be a good girl and—oh. Christ, does that…?”

“Shut up,” you snap with far more venom than you intended. “Give me my meds and forget it, okay?”

Eddie’s looking at you like the cat who ate the canary. The smirk on his face is becoming more self-satisfied by the second. “Oh, absolutely not, sweetheart. I just found out that my best friend in the whole world has been hiding her secret kink from me.”

“I said, drop it.” You clench your fists in a feeble attempt to ward off the humiliation. “We’re not fucking, so it’s none of your business what any of my secret kinks are.”

“Kinks? As in more than one? Oh, do go on.” He’s got a shit-eating grin on his face, but it fades when he sees your eyes welling up with the beginnings of tears. “Look, you don’t have to be embarrassed. We all have things that turn us on. Even pure, chaste, little ol’ me.”

Now that makes you laugh. “Okay, Mr. Celibacy over here…tell me one of yours. It’s only fair.”

“I think it would just have you clutching your pearls, Miss Good Girl.” He winces when you give his ankle a playful kick, but he obliges. “Fine, fine.” He puts his hands up in surrender. “I like the idea of corrupting a girl. Sweet thing getting ruined by a freak like me.”

“You don’t get enough of that shit talk from the meatheads at school?” Idiots like Jason Carver seem to have a never-ending list of insulting nicknames for him, with Freak being their go-to. 

Eddie shakes his head, frizzy brown curls brushing against his cheeks. “No, this is different. I don’t want to be called a freak. I just think the idea of a nice, innocent girl wanting me to corrupt her is hot.”

“Like…a good girl?” You’re trying to replicate his teasing tone from earlier, but it comes out more salacious. You bite your tongue, though the words have already escaped your lips. 

Eddie just chuckles, somehow oblivious to your gaffe. “All right, well played. Laugh it up so we can call it even.”

You unscrew the cap of the bottle and take a pill, washing it down with the water you keep next to your bed. “But, Eds, I took my medicine! See?” You stick out your tongue with an exaggerated aaahh. “Just like a good girl.”

Eddie’s eyes narrow; he’s not sure how to interpret the situation. To be honest, neither do you. “Don’t play this game with me,” he says, suddenly serious. “Because you get to forget all about this, while I’m stuck with blue balls for the rest of the day.”

“Sounds like you’re speaking from experience.”

He nods. “Plenty of experience.” He rubs his sweaty palm along his denim-clad thigh, his eyes never leaving your body. 

“Lucky for you, good girls don’t let their best friend walk around with blue balls, do they?” This is it. It’s now or never. You walk over to the bed and straddle his waist, pressing your hands to his chest. His heart is beating a mile a minute. 

Any semblance of self-control is gone as Eddie hisses, “They certainly fuckin’ don’t.” His lips crash against yours in a hungrily, sloppy kiss. His palms are on either side of your face as he holds you impossibly close. Whether he realizes it or not, he’s grinding up against you, creating a delicious friction between your thighs.  

Eddie wraps a strong arm around your waist and lowers you down to the mattress. Lips never leaving yours, his hands slip up the inside of your shirt, his rough calloused fingers causing goosebumps to break out along your skin. When you’re forced to break apart for air, you take the opportunity to yank your shirt off over your head and toss it somewhere on the floor. Eddie copies your motions, so when he leans back in this time, your bra is the only material between your two chests. 

“So pretty,” Eddie mumbles as his kisses move down to your jaw. One of his hands comes up to cup your breast through your black cotton bra. “Such a good girl for me.”

His words have you whining and arching your back. It forces your chest even more into Eddie’s hand, which has him smirking as he runs his nose up to your ear. He places a soft kiss there before reaching down for the button of your jeans.

“You really do like it when I call you that, huh? Tell me, baby, did you ever think about me calling you that before? Lay here at night with your hand between your legs, picturing me calling you my good little girl?”

An almost pornographic moan slips from your lips as he speaks, and you’re barely able to concentrate on lifting your hips up enough for him to pull your jeans and panties off. 

“Wanna be your good girl,” you mumble, face heating up at the admission. “Just f’you.”

“Aww, how sweet,” Eddie coos, leaning to capture your lips in another soft, slow kiss. Your hands slide down his pale chest until they rest on the handcuff buckle belt that you’ve stared at so many times, always wondering what it would be like to take it off of him. 

“Pants off, Eds,” you say.

“Excuse me?” he says against your mouth. “What was that?”

A small whine tumbles from your lips before you squeak out, “Pants off, please, Eddie.”

“Much better,” Eddie says with a wicked grin. “That’s how good girls get what they want. Take your bra off, baby. I want to see all of you.”

Reaching behind your back to unhook the garment, your eyes never leave Eddie’s form as he strips himself of his jeans and boxers. All the times you’d imagined Eddie naked in your bed…they didn’t do the real thing justice. He’s long and wider than you expected, and even more mouthwatering than you could’ve hoped for. 

“Staring, huh?” Eddie says and you can hear the smirk in his voice before you even look up to see it confirmed on his face. “I’m flattered, sweetheart.”

“‘S bigger than I imagined,” you admit shyly. “Need—I mean, can you please use your fingers first?” 

Eddie nods, running his pointer and middle fingers through your wet folds before pushing them inside you. “Aw, y’already soaked for me, baby? Barely even touched you.” He continues fingering you as he nips at your earlobe. “Y’sure you’ll be able to take my cock, pretty girl?”

The nicknames have your head spinning. “Y-yes, sir,” you choke out, whimpering when he stops moving his thick digits. 

“Well, shit,” he says with a small chuckle. “Looks like you’ve unlocked a kink I didn’t even know I had.” He looks deep into your eyes as he orders, “call me ‘sir’ again.”

“Yes, sir,” you manage, feeling his thumb making slow circles over your clit. “Anything f’you. I’m a good girl f’you, sir.”

Eddie growls as he slides down so his nose is level with your sex. “Not a good girl. You’re my good girl.” 

“Your good girl. Only yours, fuck!” You yelp loudly as he starts sucking on your swollen bud, simultaneously fucking you with his fingers. Your legs tremble, which he takes as a sign to lap at your pussy with more vigor. “R-right there, sir. Please don’t stop. Please don’t stop, sir.” You sound pathetic, but it’s working for both of you. 

You feel the pressure mounting in your core as your orgasm washes over you. “I’m cumming, holy fucking shit, I’m fucking cumming—” But just as the coil begins to snap, he pulls away from you, chin shiny with your slick. 

“What the fuck?”

“Ah ah,” Eddie chides. “Good girls wait so we can cum together.” He spits on his hard cock, fucking into his fist a few times before lining himself up with your entrance. “Y’okay?” he asks, pushing the tip in only after you give him a resounding yes. The feeling of him inside you is one of ecstasy, and you wrap your legs around his to pull him impossibly closer. No one has ever filled you the way he has; no one has ever stretched you so deliciously. 

“Eddie,” you murmur into the crook of his neck. His hands grip your hips as he buries himself within your walls. “I-I mean, sir, y’feel…fuck…feel s’good.”

“Me?” Eddie laughs incredulously as he continues thrusting into you. “No, baby. Nothing compares to how good you fuckin’ feel. Nice an’ tight, aren’t you, angel?”

The new nickname sends shivers of pleasure down your spine, and you bite your lip as you squeak out an agreement. 

“Tell me, my sweet girl,” Eddie growls, cock twitching within you, “what would your friends think if they knew the freak was balls deep in your pussy right now?”

You can only moan in response, and Eddie beams at your apparent wordlessness. 

“Fucked the words right out of you? Cute little head of yours can only think about my cock, hm?”

“Feels…feels…” You wrack your brain for any descriptors for the waves rippling through your body, but you come up empty-handed; rather, empty-headed. 

Eddie’s all-too amused by this, pistoning his hips as he beckons, “Come on; good girls use their words. How’s it feel, baby?”

“So good, Eds. Y’make me feel so good.” It’s barely two sentences, but it placates him. 

“Aw, you like the way my cock makes you feel?” A sneer crosses his face. “Like when the freak’s cock splits you open? How about when I do this?”

Before you can register his words, he’s bringing his thumb to your already overstimulated clit and rubs it while fucking you. “I know you like that, angel. Can feel you getting tighter around me. Fuck, anyone make you feel this good before?”

“N-No, just you,” you manage, another wanton moan escaping your lips. 

“Good girl, using her words f’me.” Your pussy clenches at the praise, spurring Eddie on further. “Just wanna wreck you. No one else can have you but me.”

“Only yours,” you slur in your cock drunk state. Every nerve in your body feels alive as Eddie pounds into you. Your eyes flutter closed so when Eddie leans down and flicks his tongue over one of your nipples, it surprises you. “Oh!”

“Can’t forget about these gorgeous tits, baby girl,” Eddie purrs. “They deserve some love as well.” He laves his tongue up and down the swell of your breast before sucking the nipple into his mouth. A new decibel of a whimper leaves your throat, and it has Eddie smirking around the hardened bud in his mouth. 

Your hand comes up and tangles in Eddie’s hair, fingers ever so lightly digging into his scalp as he gives your nipple a particularly harsh suck. He pulls off with a pop, hips still pounding into yours vigorously. The motion of your bodies causes your bed to shake and your headboard to bang repeatedly and obnoxiously against the wall. 

Eddie gives the same attention to your other breast, exploring the soft skin with his tongue and lips before ravishing your nipple. It only adds to the intense pressure that’s already built up in your core.

“Ed—Sir, please. I need—”

His teeth grazing your nipple has your sentence ending with a strangled gasp. 

“I know what you need, baby,” Eddie coos, leaning up to hover his face over yours. “You’ve been such a good girl for me. Letting the freak use your tight little pussy. And you enjoyed it, didn’t you, sweet thing?”

“Yes,” you whine, practically a sob. “S-Sir?”

“What is it, princess?” Eddie asks, teeth clenched as he tries to stave off his impending orgasm. 

“Want you to cum inside me.”

“Fuck,” he growls. It takes him a second to regain enough composure to be able to respond. “Yeah? That’s what my good girl wants? To have the freak’s cum deep inside of her? Want to feel it dripping out of you and down your legs? Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll fill you up nice and good.”

Eddie bucks his hips a few more times before he cums, fucking his spend up into you with primal groans. “Take it—fuck, take my cum. Jus’ like a good girl.” He doesn’t stop until he’s soft and panting, flopping onto your chest without daring to pull out. 

The two of you lay there for a moment, catching your breaths and relishing in the post-sex glow. A post-sex glow that you’re sharing with your best friend. Your best friend, Eddie Munson, just had his dick inside you while you called him ‘sir’ and he called you ‘good girl.’

“Um, Eddie?” you manage, and he lifts his head as he finally withdraws and lays down next to you. “What…what exactly did we just do?”

“Well, when two people love each other…” He starts to tease you, but his face blanches when he realizes what he’s just implied. “I mean, like, as friends…”

“Right. When two people really love each other as friends, they discover each other’s kinks and have mind-blowing sex.” 

Eddie wiggles his eyebrows. “Mind-blowing, huh? You know that flattery works with me.”

“‘M serious,” you say, trying to redirect the conversation back to your original thought. “Where do we go from here?”

He considers this, tongue poking out between his lips in contemplation. “I’m spent; you wore me out with your insatiable appetite for lust.” He chuckles as you flip him off. “So I say we take a nap, and when we wake up, we can see what other kinks we wanna explore.”

“What other kinks do you have?” You rest your head on his chest and snuggle in as he wraps a protective arm around you, kissing the top of your head. 

“That’s for me to know and you to find out,” he taunts, yawning as he says it. “Sweet dreams, angel.”

“Sweet dreams, Daddy.”

“Oh, fuck me.”

[steveseddie]

‘cause it’s you and me

rating: g | cw: none | wc: 1,9 k | tags: eddie lives, hospitals and injury recovery, steve has a crush, he also knows how to play guitar, fluff

written for @steddielovemonth day one | You and Me by Lifehouse & the quote “every heart sings a song, incomplete, until another heart whispers back. Those who wish to sing always find a song. At the touch of love everyone becomes a poet.”

read on ao3

Steve doesn’t know how much time he’s spent on the chair that is next to Eddie’s hospital bed.

Too long probably, if the recurrent pain on his back means anything. But not even that is enough to prevent Steve from staying glued to that chair, neither are the doctor’s mean looks or Robin’s insistence about him getting proper sleep or meals for that matter. Steve only leaves the chair when he has a shift or when he wants Wayne to have time alone with his nephew or when the nurses wheel Eddie away for surgery or tests or physical therapy. That’s it.

It makes the months that Eddie spends recovering blur together. Sometimes, Steve even forgets what day it is, only managing to keep track of it by the nurse’s schedule or depending on who shows up to visit Eddie. The kids and Wayne and Robin all come on different days, effectively balancing keeping their friend company with their everyday lives.

All of them except Steve.

Ever since Spring Break, it’s been Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

Find Eddie. Get Eddie’s heart beating again. Drag Eddie out of the Upside Down. Pray that Eddie makes it out of surgery. Wait for Eddie to wake up. Comfort Eddie when he’s in pain. Take Eddie’s mind off of the murder charges that haven’t been dropped yet or the loss of their trailer or the long hours of physical therapy ahead of him. Listen to Eddie ramble on the days that he feels better about books and music and Dungeons and Dragons. Watch Eddie sleep and only then try to get a little sleep himself.

The last one might sound a little creepy but Steve thinks it’s justified considering he still can’t forget how Eddie looked when they found him– pale, bloody, dead. Watching him sleep, his chest rising and falling slowly but steadily is the only thing that calms Steve enough for him to doze off in that damn uncomfortable chair.

Only at some point it stops being entirely about making sure that Eddie is alive– the staring. Suddenly, Steve can’t keep his eyes off of Eddie at all times.

Steve stares at his face while Eddie reads a book to him out loud and forgets to pay attention to what he’s saying. He stares at Eddie’s hands while he explains something to the kids and completely miss a question from Henderson. He stares at his mouth while Eddie slurps the extra jello cup that Robin sneaked in past the nurses and blush when she catches him and smirks knowingly at him.

It takes Steve some time to figure out why he looks at Eddie so much, obvious as it is, and when he finally does he actually leaves his chair and heads to the bathroom for a proper floor freak out.

He just doesn’t know what to do with these feelings for Eddie or where to go from there so he just– doesn’t do anything.

And things stay the same.

Except for the way Eddie keeps getting better.

The doctors are so optimistic that they announce that Eddie might get to go home soon. They have him doing laps around the hospital and start slowly tapering off his pain meds and encouraging him to pick back up things he used to do like writing and playing guitar to work on his dexterity, they said.

It’s why Eddie starts writing down plans and ideas for future dork campaigns again and why Wayne brings his sweetheart to the hospital.

(Eddie almost cried when he saw it, making grabby hands and hugging it against his chest with a happy sigh.

“I swear you’re happier to see that thing more than you’ve ever been to see me,” Steve muttered through pursed lips.

“Steve, don’t call her a thing! She can hear you!” Eddie protested, appalled. Which wasn’t a no but at least later he tells Steve that there’s enough room in his heart for two sweethearts.)

It’s not like Eddie goes back to being a rock god on the guitar right away and his writing is intelligible more often than not, but none of that stops him. He keeps trying, keeps practicing, and Steve loves him more and more for it.

Yes. Love. The first time the word pops up in Steve’s head it leads to yet another bathroom floor freak out but once he realizes it, he has to bite his tongue to stop himself from blurting it out several times a day.

He’s doing it right now while watching Eddie excitedly write down a D&D character sheet for him with his tongue poking out adorably between his lips, tempting Steve to lean in and kiss them. So when a nurse interrupts them to take Eddie away for some test, he appreciates the short break.

When he’s alone, Steve reaches for the notebook that Eddie left on the bed. It’s off limits for any of the kids, but Eddie has let Steve peek at it before. He doesn’t think he’ll mind.

He reads his character sheet, recognizing some of the nerdy words while others fly completely over his head. Then he leafs lazily through pages of notes and doodles until he pauses at what looks like an unfinished song, fragments of lyrics and melodies written messily over the page.

Steve sends a sidelong glance to Eddie’s guitar where it’s leaning against the wall.

He’s never told anyone but he took some guitar lessons back when he started high school, hoping that playing an instrument would help get him girls. He knows how to read music and can fumble his way through a few simple songs, but he never made it past that. It seemed useless when he already had Nancy, and then when he didn’t have her anymore, he had the kids and the Upside Down and playing guitar didn’t seem like a useful skill to have when fighting monsters.

He chuckles. “Guess I was wrong,” he mutters to himself, thinking about Eddie saving the world with a Metallica song of all things.

Without giving it much thought, Steve stands up and carefully grabs the guitar, bringing it back with him to the chair and resting it on his leg, Eddie’s notebook open on the bed in front of him.

He clumsily places his fingers on the fretboard and tries to play the melody that Eddie wrote down. He messes up a few notes, but for someone who hasn’t touched a guitar in years he thinks he plays it decently enough. Eddie would surely do a better job, but it still doesn’t sound half bad. Maybe he can ask Eddie for help to improve and–

“What are you doing?” Eddie’s voice breaks through the melody. His fingers slip and the guitar makes a loud, screechy sound that makes Steve wince.

He whirls around and finds Eddie staring at him from the door, his face unreadable.

Steve gulps, his cheeks pinking up at being caught. “Playing guitar?”

Eddie’s eyebrows knit together. “Since when do you know how?”

“I– uh, I took lessons years ago but I stopped,” he says, tripping on his words. “I– I found your– your song and I was trying to play it–”

Eddie’s eyes dart to the notebook on the bed. Steve winces again, worrying that Eddie will get mad because he went through his things or because he touched his sweetheart.

“That sounds nothing like what I wrote.”

Or because he butchered his song.

Steve blushes brighter, reaching for the notebook and fumbling to close it. “Sorry, I– it’s been a while and I was never that good to begin with.”

With three long strides –and a lot less limping than a month ago, Steve proudly notices– Eddie reaches his side and snatches the notebook from Steve’s hands.

“Give me that!” He says, flopping down on the bed and flicking furiously through the pages, his face pinched.

“Shit, Eddie, I’m sorry, I– I didn’t think you’d be mad–”

“You bet I’m mad!” Eddie says with a huff, patting the bed sheets, trying to find something.

Steve shrinks down on the chair. “I– I think I’m gonna go–” he says, pushing himself to his feet. Better to leave now before Eddie finds whatever he’s looking for and throws it at his head.

“Aha!” Eddie gasps, holding up his pen. Then he notices Steve standing awkwardly and frowns at him. “Wait, what? No, stay. Play it again.”

Steve blinks down at him. “What?”

“The song!” Eddie urges him but his voice is soft, gentle. “Play it again, Stevie, please.”

Stevie. Please. He’s not mad.

“What?”

Eddie heaves out a sigh, but it comes across as fond. “Dude, I’ve been trying to figure out the right melody for that song for like, half a year!” He says, shaking his notebook aggressively. A few pages fall off, but he pays them no mind. “But I just couldn’t get it fucking right, there was always something missing! And it was whatever you were doing when I walked in!”

“So you’re not mad at me?”

“Not at you, Stevie, no,” Eddie chuckles. “Just mad that it was you who figured it out with your secret magic guitar skills and not me.”

“Oh,” Steve says, and he can’t help but let out a chuckle himself. “So you want me to do it again?”

Eddie nods enthusiastically and that’s enough to make Steve flop back down on the chair, propping the guitar on his legs and doing his best to play the song like he did before.

He must get it right because Eddie lets out an adorable squeal before using his pen to cross out something and write down whatever Steve accidentally came up with.

“Goddamn, sweetheart, I’m gonna have to dedicate this song to you now as a thank you,” Eddie says, grinning so wide at his notebook that it shows off his dimples.

Steve hangs a hand from his neck. It feels hot to the touch, probably from the pet name. “Too bad it’s a love song,” he jokes weakly, even if he wants nothing more than for Eddie’s words to be about him.

Eddie glances up, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth. “I know,” he says softly, his eyes flickering nervously over Steve’s face.

Oh. Oh.

Stomach fluttering with butterflies, Steve stands up, grabbing the guitar by its neck to prop it up against the wall.

“Uh, you– are you leaving?” Eddie asks, chewing anxiously on his pen as he watches Steve move around silently. Little does he know that his heart is currently screaming at him to gently tackle Eddie into the bed.

But first–

“Just making sure your guitar is safe before I go over there and kiss you, Eds,” he says, the corners of his mouth ticking up when Eddie squeaks again, his eyes widening.

“Oh, o–okay. That’s smart. Yup,” he stammers out, his voice an octave higher, his cheeks pinking up. “Does that mean you also–”

“Feel that way about you?” Steve asks, sitting on the bed next to Eddie, who nods expectantly. Steve reaches out and tucks a lock of hair behind his ear. “Yeah, Eddie, I do.”

When Steve leans in and finally, finally kisses him, Eddie lets his notebook fall to the floor so he can grab Steve’s shoulders. The urgency to write down that perfect melody now replaced by an urgency for Steve.

But it doesn’t matter, Steve thinks that melody is now seared into both of their memories forever, as is their first kiss. The first of many.

[avidfics]

Chasing you

Summary: You’ve been on the run from Carol after sending a drunk voicemail. A month later, Carol has found you and doesn’t plan to let you go.

A/N: Came out of a writing hiatus cause I love this woman. There’s not enough carol x reader fics on this app and she gives me the warm fuzzies. Comments and reshares are appreciated :)

Warnings: Pretty PG-13, playful teasing, fluff, some tears, few misspellings, mentions some characters from The Marvels

Three things were painfully obvious as you woke up. This wasn’t your bed. These weren’t your clothes. The “Space Girls Do It Better” sleeveless crop top didn’t belong to you. 

Oh, and there was a fluffy, orange flerken licking its genitals ontop of your chest. A pretty deep cleaning by the looks of it.

“Um.” your voice croaked, the result of a long nap. “Mr. Flerken sir, I’m going to move you and place you on the floor-” Three tentacles shoot out from the confines of its mouth, wraps around a nearby metal dresser, and swallow it whole.

An audible nervous gulp can be heard from your throat. “New plan. Leave when it pleases you.” 

Armed with the killer fluffball, you creep along the cramped halls of the spaceship and take in the colorful murals that are painted inconsistently through the halls. One reads vaguely familiar, “New Jersey.” 

What’s a New Jersey?

In the back of your mind you have a nagging suspicion of the identity of the owner of the ship. But if you were right, then that would be a bigger problem than someone undressing you while you were unconscious. 

You enter the main pilot room as a childlike scream jars both you and the flerken. 

Kamala Khan’s wide eyed, all teeth smile shines from across the room. “OMG you’re awake!”

“God, no.” you groan. You plead to the heavens that this is all just a stress conjured dream even as the teenager morphs a hard light disk to propel her forward to tackle you into a warm hug. “Kamala, please tell me you're the owner of this ship and you’ve gotten your spaceship driver’s license early?

Her lips curve. “Sure.”

A relieved sigh depletes from your body.

“Sure, I missed you. But this is Carol’s ship. After you left she’s been tracking you for the past few weeks. We got an alert that you were involved in a bar brawl on the planet Aladna yesterday. When she found you, you were already beaten unconscious and bleeding from the attack. Carol scooped you up and took care of your injuries in the med bay.” Her signature dopey smile returns. “She nearly blasted the whole bar apart when she found you. It was epic.” she sighs with a faraway look.

Her smile wouldn’t be so bright if she knew you had no interest in being on the same planet yet alone on a small ship with her honored captain. Your frantic eyes start to scan every nook and cranny of the room. As if Carol would materialize from the launch keys at any moment. You drag Kamala to the control panel and start to hit buttons at random. “No, none of this is epic. Kamala, afraid we need to cut this reunion short. Drop me off at the nearest planet or station. Shoot, give me a space jumpsuit and I’ll simply float outside in outerspace. But I Can Not. Be. Here.” 

Kamala gives a sly look at how you’re acting. “Carol said you’d try to jump ship once you woke up.” she smiles as she pets the flerken still in your arms. “Something about you being embarrassed over something moronic.” 

And there it was. Until now there was a slim grasp of hope that Carol hadn’t known what you did but this just confirmed not only did she know but she wasn’t going to let it go. Goody. No way would you tell the whole story of how you’d gone out drinking with some Skrull girls because Carol was driving you crazy in her freaking halter tops. Then you found out she was married to a prince! Sure, it was only a political marriage but still the revelation made you want to punch something or someone. So drunk out of your mind, you left the most pathetic voicemail of all time sounding like a teenager with a crush. Talking about how she attracts you more than the rules of gravity. What was that! The voicemail ended with your declaration to take the prince of Aladna in a fight if that’s what it took to get her attention.

In your defense, she does like to fight. So you did punch someone…or several someones at the bar.

“It’s nothing.” you blink away the memory. “Carol didn’t have any right to kidnap me off the planet”

“Aren’t you a little old to be “kidnaped?” the dreaded voice calls out from behind you both.

You whip your head around, guilt written all over your face even as your jaw slackens at the hottest, yet fatigued, space hero in the galaxy. 

But at the moment Captain Marvel just looked like Carol. A half smile gracing her lips even as she leans against the entrance. Bare arms out, another damn crop top that barely covers her belly button, and an empty space of tantalizing skin at her stomach before the top half of her supersuit hangs limp at her hips. 

It was giving off duty lesbian about to repair an engine and it was making you absolutely feral. 

Which is why you held the flerken outstretched in her direction.

“Not another step, Danvers.” you warn. “This flerkin here has taken a liking to me and isn’t afraid to defend me.”

Carol tilts her head and her full teasing smile tasks force, causing a full quiver in your heart.

Taking slow, meticulous steps toward you, not caring about the fur-covered danger dangling from your hands. “You’ve taken a liking to my pet, sweetheart?” 

A spurtle of incoherent nonsense leaves your mouth. “It found me when I woke up. I even named him Ginger.”

“Real creative.” her deadpan sarcasm does not go unnoticed. “Put Goose down before he decides to eat you.” You get ready to fight the command but ‘Goose’ does a loud meow and you decide that’s him agreeing with his apparent owner. 

Her eyes flicker to the noisy teenager next to you. “Kamala, go find another wall to destroy.”

“Aye aye, captain.” You make a desperate attempt to grab Kamala but the small betrayer just mouths “You’re in trouble.” before prancing away. 

With Kamela’s exit the room is too quiet and the once spacious room feels tiny and empty, leaving only the bruising reminder of why you’ve avoided Carol for weeks. Sure, your friend can fly, shoot rays of energy from her fist, and literally crush you with her bare hands but none of that ever scared you. It wasn’t your physical body you were afraid she would break, but the fragile, sensitive heart you always protected. But then there was Carol with her small, gentle smile and her laughing eyes and a warm presence that made you want to be soft instead of sharp with pointy edges.

Under Carol’s gaze you were a giant raw wound that was left open and too exposed. You just knew Carol could see it. 

Which is why getting off this ship was imperative. With a new, hardened resolve you turn around and commerce pressing every button in sight.

“You trying to order a pizza? Because there’s an easier way than having us crash into the nearest asteroid.”  The pull of her voice is so strong after weeks of zero contact but you ignore it nonetheless. Not that it deters Carol. “But maybe your bad driving is a result of getting your ass whooped down on Aladna.”

She’s baiting you. Do not give in.

“I mean the fact that you got your butt handed to you by a group of people who normally only fight in song has to make you mad, right?” The silence in response finally gets to her as she stomps up to the dashboard controls and undos every button you’ve pushed in concession. Each time she reaches for a button near yours, fingers a centimeter from touching, you yank away and take a step away. She grunts in return and counters with another step closer. 

Her next jap finally hits her mark with stinging precision. “Maybe next time you should ask the Prince for backup.”

A response fires out your mouth even as you slam your hand against a particular shiny button. “I had it handled, okay? That pretty boy prince might’ve impressed you somehow but his presence in a fight is as needed as yours is to me right now.” The lie turned your stomach and made you feel like Goose’s shit. “You had no right and no reason to take me off that damn planet because I had it covered. Just drop me off at the nearest planet.”

Carol could smell the lie a mile away. The words bounced off her chest. If anything she was trying to hide her arrogant grin at successfully getting your undivided attention, knowing it would make you more pissed. Which was always an adorable sight.

When her sources flagged a sighting of you on Aladna she’d left the spaceship at supersonic speed to reach you after hunting your trail down for the past month. 

At first, friendship was all she needed. But time spent together on various missions gave her deeper understanding on how darn sweet you were despite scratching at anyone who tried to get close. 

But once she clicked play on that cute, yet slightly violent, voicemail any vague restraints of being only friends were dashed. Now here you were, her prickly kitten, and she wasn’t going to be deterred by any of your rounded jabs. 

Now here you stood. Causing internal issues to her ship's mainframe. Slight bruises marring your delicate skin. All reminders that you’d rather be dropped in outer space than occupy the same room with her. Well tough luck. Patience was never her strongsuit. 

A blur out of the corner of your eye was the only warning before the sudden warm body surrounded you from behind. Two unyielding hands grasped yours in an attempt to halt any further error messages from appearing on the dashboard. “Are you not satisfied with my ship, sweetheart? Because you’re awfully determined to break it.” In another determined step she removes any space separating you two until her front is flushed against your back. Tense doesn’t begin to describe how rigid your body gets as you realize, to your detriment, she’s forgone a bra. Even the tiniest move from her causes her soft, malleable breast to move against your back. Your knees buckle even as you silently curse Carol for completely smashing the boundaries of your personal bubble. 

Warm fingers grasp each of your hands and her thumbs caress circles on each hand that shoots straight to your flamed core. A whisper of her lips speaks into your ear, tingling all the way into your spine. “Six. There’s six bruises across your delicate body from that stupid fight. But you didn’t need me, huh?”

The touch and slight reprimand in her voice makes your body shiver. “T-that’s not what I meant.”

“Oh?” You peek behind to see her face as her fingers gently travel down your arm. Brows furrowed with an intense glare as she inspects your minor injuries in detail. “But that’s what you said, no?” 

In an effort to clutch the last remaining shreds of your pride you squint up at her but end up lowering your glare. “Even if you helped me, that didn’t give you the right to take me off the planet.” you murmur. “And who changed my clothes!” 

The gentle hand remains on your arm but the dark look is dashed away, replaced with a serene smile. “Obviously that was me. Like I would allow anyone else to get a peek at what’s mine.” she snorts. As if the idea was simply absurd. 

All fight leaves your body at the new startling news that Carol, your Carol, just called you hers PLUS  she’s seen you naked? 

You gear up to start a rant but two arms twirl you around and hefts you up. Your legs and arms cling to her even as you yell at her to set you down.

Bullheaded Carol ignores you and instead leisurely walks to her pilot seat. As if this was just a normal Tuesday. When she plops in the driver seat, she settles your weight to straddle her hips. Immediately, you try to scramble away but she wraps her arms around you in a metal vise. That damn innocent smile returns. “The chast act ends now. Because I was prepared to let you go but then you left me this.” It’s like a slow motion car accident as she pulls her cell from her pocket and the dreadful voicemail is played at full volume. 

Renewed vigor allows you to break out of her arms but you're too slow as one hand holds you in place on her lap. Making you listen to your drunk declaration of love.

The tears come as you're forced to helplessly listen, already anticipating the mockery that was soon to come, except Carol didn’t laugh. Instead, you felt soft, slow kisses press against your wet check, trailing your tears.

Carol nuzzling your neck is the only thing stopping your crying as you realize she wasn’t laughing. Her tired smile and fatigued smile returns. “You're so dramatic, kitten. Don’t ask me what “right” I have to kidnap you and bring you on our ship after you left a message like this for me. 

Sensing you were no longer a flight risk, her hard grip releases your wrists. Instead, she traces your face, rubbing away your tear trails. “For now on, you're coming back and helping our missions, warming my bed, and if you start anymore bar fights you better finish them or have your girlfriend there to finish the job for you.”

For the first time in a month, a genuine smile graces your face. Brave enough to fully settle your weight on Carol’s lap, you grasp the nap of her neck to angle her lips for a kiss. When your lips finally connect a deep, dragged out moan leaves Carol’s mouth. Her hands slide up your thighs and squeeze your ass. “Don't run away again.” she warns.

“Aye aye Captain.”

[loonybun]

Check Up

hi. guess who wrote. aren’t you proud. anyways these are like. my favorite ocs. if you’ve known me for very long you know i will never shut up about them ever and have character blogs because god they’re in my brain constantly

contains: med whump/lab whump (not sure which this would classify as. sort of in the middle there.), creepy/intimate carewhumper, doctor whumper, does vian deserve his own mention here yeah he’s a warning all by himself, condescension, restraints, recapture, former living weapon whumpee, magical/sci-fi setting, references to addition and drugs, mentions of brainwashing and memory erasure, betrayal, needles, implied self harm, self harm being weaponized.

i think that’s all but let me know if i’m missing something. this one’s a bit of a doozey. fun for the whole family.

——————————————————

“You look like you slept well.”

He was barely even awake. The room felt like it was spinning, the all too familiar fluorescent lights inducing a dizzying nausea.

The shock of the cold metal on his back forced him into reality. Shit. This was happening. There wasn’t any way out of it. Not an obvious one, anyways.

Koi’s eyes drifted back over to the doctor, who greeted him with a soft smile. Right. Why was he here? Why didn’t he have—

“I took off that little cuff of yours, hopefully you don’t mind. I’ll probably have to answer for that later, but oh well. I figured you’d want to enjoy your last few moments of lucidity.” He murmured, pity crossing his face. “I know you’re not really capable of what they think you are. Poor thing. They think you’re a killing machine! A terrorist! It’s a little funny, actually. I mean, you’re…”

His eyes trailed over Koi for a brief moment. “…Harmless. Completely harmless like this.”

“—I mean, I’m not a big fan of killing people. Kind of why I was trying to avoid this place.”

“Yes, yes, and that’s exactly my point. I guess capable isn’t the right word, is it? I mean, you’ve done it before. I suppose what I’m trying to insinuate is that you’re just unfit to be the monster they’re going to try to break you into.” The doctor hummed, gently ruffling his hair.

“…It’s nice to see you again, by the way. I really did miss you. I know we were never close, but— You were always one of my favorites.”

Koi scoffed. “Enough of a favorite to let out of these restraints? C’mon, it’s not like I’m going anywhere.”

“…You know I can’t, Koi.”

“…Right.” He went quiet for a moment, letting the air grow heavy. Well, might as well rip the bandaid off. “So uh… What are they gonna do?”

And just like that, he was back to his giddy state. “Oh— Yes, I forgot, you like it when I explain these things.”

“You’re uh, not annoyed by it, right? I know a lot of the scientists were and uh—“

“No, no! Not at all. I appreciate your enthusiasm. I always have. People here are just so incredibly impatient.”

“…Oh, uh, thanks. Alright, then yeah, give me the rundown.” Koi already had a good idea about what was going to happen next. They’d throw him in a nice, big cell, give him the whole “You have a purpose here” spiel, and then keep him in there until he either gave in or escaped— not like the former would ever happen.

Vian’s eyes seemed to sparkle as he began to explain. “Well, you see, we figured that since you’re going to be here for a while, we might as well work out that little… Issue… With your magic.”

“And then they’ll expect me to join ‘em again?”

“…Well— Actually, you won’t have much of a say in the matter. They’re planning on wiping your memories. It’ll be like your little runaway incident never happened. You won’t remember the experiments either, of course. None of those silly traumatic things.”

Shit.

“Until then, I’m supposed to keep you hooked up to an IV containing a drug I’ve developed. Just something to keep your mind in more of an agreeable state. You won’t lose your ability to think, of course, you’ll just… Struggle with comprehending those thoughts. I like to say it’s like water slipping through cracks— Nicer imagery leads to a much less stressful experience.” Vian smiled cheerfully, giving Koi a little pat on the head.

He felt sick. This wasn’t how things were supposed to be. “—Wait, wait, wait. Can’t we talk this out? I mean— You don’t really want me to lose my memory, right?— What about— What about my friends? My life?”

At that, the doctor chuckled. “Koi, we should really move on with the examination. I have a job to do… Maybe if you’re good, we can talk a little more about your options afterwards.”

Despite the bile in his throat, Koi nodded. Maybe there was a chance that the doctor would take pity on him. He just had to get through this.

Vian lifted up the thin sleeve of his hospital gown, staring down his arm while he fixed a cuff on his shoulder.

“…Now, I know we didn’t give those to you.”

“What?”

“Those scars.” Vian traced a cold finger along one of the countless cuts lined over the withered skin. “Those are new. Lined up so poorly as well. Goodness, you really haven’t been doing well for yourself, have you?”

Koi shot him a small glare that quickly faded into something a little more pitiful. He had to remember what was at risk if he fucked this up.

“Yeah, well, what can I say? Apparently having a guilty conscience has consequences.”

The doctor’s eyes flickered with mild amusement. It was an unsettling look on him.

“We both know that’s not what this is.”

“Didn’t you say you had a job to do?”

The pressure on his arm began to increase, then released all at once. The cuff went off just as quickly as it had been strapped on. Vian stared at the readings for a brief moment, then looked back at his patient.

“And who are you to say that a wellness check wouldn’t be part of it? I won’t tell, I promise. Now, you were always good with needles. Are you alright if I draw some blood?”

Koi nodded hesitantly. It would be better not to argue with the only person who might be willing to lend a hand to him. He wasn’t that stupid. It’s not like he had many other options.

The needle sank into his skin, and he reflexively let go of the tension in his body. He could have sworn he saw Vian smile at that.

“Good. You’ve always so good with these things. I believe that’s most of what I needed— We’ll do a drug test too, just to be sure. You’d be surprised hearing all of the rumors some of the scouts have come up with about you. Meaningless gossip, really. They claim you’re some worthless street junkie now.” Vian hummed, brushing Koi’s bangs out of his face. “Then again, I wouldn’t be totally surprised. You’ve been hung out to dry. We can lose ourselves, sometimes.”

He couldn’t help but lean into the soft touch. If it weren’t for the backhanded conversation, he probably would have felt genuinely relaxed.

“Yeah, right. I’ve totally got the spare change to shell out for that.”

“Mhm... Like I said, meaningless gossip.”

He needed to break the silence in the air. He could practically feel Vian’s gaze on him. Cold and scrutinizing. “Well, uh, is that all you needed me for?”

“Oh— Yes, we should be done for now. You said you wanted to talk about your options, didn’t you? This would also be a decent time to ask me any extra questions.” The doctor snapped his eyes back to focus, a smile quickly reappearing on his face.

“Yeah, yeah. That sounds good. Uh, so is there any way I can convince you to help me? I mean, I know we were never friends, but—“

“You’d like to be. I know.” He didn’t even let him finish. “You mentioned that once. It stuck with me for a while… I think I’d like that too. You’re one of the few people I can actually tolerate here.”

“So uh… You’re willing to get me outta here?”

Vian’s eyes narrowed, and his grin faltered. “…Well—“

“Well what?” He snapped.

“You don't really have options here, Koi. Let’s just think about this for a moment. I could let you go right now, send you on your way back home… And for what? For you to be miserable the rest of your life? To keep this up?” He gestured towards the lines across his arm. “You lived in a rotting shed. If anything, keeping you here is a favor.”

His blood ran cold.

“You can’t be fucking serious— Vian, please— I… I can’t stay here. They’re gonna make me hurt people. I can’t do that again.”

Vian’s sympathetic expression was looking faker by the minute. He ruffled his hair, earning him a desperate expression. “…Oh, yes you can. The war’s been over for quite some time. It’s not like you’d be used very often anyways. Don’t you want to feel like a hero again? Didn’t you like that?”

Koi began struggling against the metal bands holding him down to the table, desperately thrashing back and forth. “I— I won’t forgive you if you do this. You know that, right?! Didn’t you say you wanted to be friends?”

“I did. And I still mean it. You’ll soon find that you won’t remember any of this, and you’ll be more than happy to spend time with me.” He hummed. “Let’s be honest, sending you back would be plainly unethical! It’d go against my oath. You’d have a fresh start here… There’s really not a downside.”

“Stop— Please—“

“…I think it’s about time to hook you up to that IV. Thank you for your time, though. I can’t wait to get to know each other all over again.”

[m30wk1ttycat]

gally's runner

pairing: gally x gn!reader

tw: none

summary: you got into an argument with gally, and everytime you try to talk to him, you get too nervous to actually do so. (requested.)

I'M SO SORRY Y'ALL HAD TO WAIT FOR SO LONG TO GET SUCH A SHORT FIC 🙏

it was, quite frankly, stupid. the argument, the unnecessary yelling, everything.

and all because you decided to volunteer to be a runner, since one of the runners had gone through the changing and was banished recently.

"y/n, did you really think it was a good idea to just volunteer?" gally scolded, pacing back and forth. "to volunteer to be a shucking runner?" he added.

"but it's my choice, you don't get to just tell me what i can and can't do!" you shouted.

"i'm trying to look out for you!" he yelled back.

"then don't!"

he stopped pacing, turning to look at you with a scowl. he was just about to say something, but you spoke up as soon as he opened his mouth.

"listen, i can take care of myself. i don't need this bullshit about how i shouldn't have done this and that, just because you don't think i'm capable of being a runner."

you weren't done yet.

"i'm sick of you underestimating me. i'm sick of everyone thinking i'm not smart enough, strong enough, fast enough. but i know that i can -- and i will -- do this," you said, slamming the door shut behind you.

as much as you wanted to apologize to him, being a runner was draining. you had to wake up, eat if you didn't sleep in, run, get back safely, map the maze, take a shower, eat if you had enough strength to even get up, sleep, and repeat. even if you had the time and energy to do something other than exercise and massage your legs to soothe the pain, everytime you walked by where the builders usually were, you could never bring yourself to actually talk to him.

you wanted to, you really did. but at this point, avoiding him seemed like a much better choice than to awkwardly attempt to talk things out with him.

so, gally took matters into his own hands. oh my, what a gentleman.

a knock sounded at the door, making everyone in the map room stare blankly at the door as if that would open it.

minho decided to open the door, revealing a rather exhausted looking gally standing there with his arms crossed.

"yeah?" minho asked.

"alby's looking for y/n," he lied. the look of confusion on your face was priceless, in his opinion. maybe minho's, too.

"what does he need?" you asked skeptically.

"didn't say."

you looked at minho as if looking for a confirmation that you could leave. the only response you got from him was a gesture for you to just go outside as he continued holding the door open for you. alby was the first-in-command, after all -- whatever it was that he need, surely, it had to be something important, and minho understood that.

the moment the door closed behind you, you turned to look at gally, asking, "where is he?"

"he didn't need anything from you, i just wanted to talk to you," he confessed.

"aren't you supposed to be fixing the med-hut's roof?" you questioned.

you could basically see him wanting to facepalm right then and there.

"i'm on my break, y/n," he explained.

"and why do you-"

he took your arm and led you away from the map room. this was not something that the runners needed to hear.

"what's going on with you?" he asked as soon as you were away from most of the gladers.

"nothing."

"don't lie to me, we both know that it's not 'nothing'." he looked at you with an expectant look on his face, awaiting an answer. he wasn't mad at you. if he was, then he was doing a really good job at hiding it -- which was something that gally wasn't very good at. if he was angry, he'd have probably screamed his head off. just like those two weeks ago.

holy shit, you've been avoiding him for two weeks.

your eyes widened in realization, but then you answered. this time, you were truthful.

"i'm sorry i acted the way i did. i wanted to tell you that i'm sorry, but i just.. i didn't know how," you said, "so, i started to avoid you, because i was too nervous to talk to you." he nodded, letting you continue. "i'm sorry -- not just for avoiding you, but for everything. i know you meant well, and i know that you were just looking out me. i didn't mean to snap at you like that. i know this isn't an excuse, but i just wanted to help out in some way."

"i know you did, and that's okay," he promised, his tone much softer now. "i'm also sorry. for making you feel like you weren't enough."

you hugged him, and the second your head hit his chest, you felt his burly arms wrap around your waist.

"i love you, i hope you know that," you heard him murmur, "even if you don't make the smartest decisions sometimes."

"i love you, too."

"does this mean you're not mad at me anymore?"

"yes, gally."

and with that, you pecked his cheek, and he kissed your forehead in return.