#reader x daybreak

A/N: I combined these requests since they were so similar, hope that’s okay!

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Ever since Josh, Wesley, and Angelica took up refuge in Eli’s mall, Josh had found himself constantly getting distracted by the make-shift doctor that had taken up shop in the old Starbucks claiming that “Caffeine is a natural painkiller.”

Granted, the (h/c) wasn’t an actual doctor by any means, but as someone who’d been taking some of the Pre-Med courses their high school offered, Eli had judged him close enough and allowed him to stay.

He’d helped Josh patch up his hand when he’d tried to cut it off after a Ghoulie bite and even showed him how to keep his finger clean after it was cut off in his botched attempt. He helped Angelica when she fell and skinned her knees so badly the blood nearly set off Ms. Crumble (He just gave her a grande Frappuccino with two shots of espresso, but she was back to building bombs in record time), and he even took appointments with the other tribes sometimes.

The thing was, though, with (M/N) taking all the additional appointments, Josh was finding it increasingly more and more difficult to catch his attention. He guessed that was probably what got him into this situation in the first place.

He was propped up at one of the tables lining the edge of the old coffee shop, sitting with his injured leg propped up on the seat in front of him as (M/N) knelt to check out his battered knee.

“How’d you say you hurt it again?” The (h/c) asked, looking up at Josh from where he’d been prodding at the torn skin.

Josh shrugged sheepishly, thinking back to the way he’d been practicing tricks he’d known he couldn’t do just because the asphalt in the parking garage under the mall was particularly rough and he knew he’d be able to scuff himself up enough to have an excuse to come see the group’s resident doctor. “Fell off my longboard earlier.”

“Again?” The doctor raised an eyebrow, watching him contemplatively for a moment before letting his gaze drop back to the cotton pad and bottle of rubbing alcohol in his hands, swiftly dabbing some over Josh’s wound and fixing a bandage over it. “You were in here with torn up palms last week from another nasty fall.” He paused as a thought struck him, “And the week before that with a twisted ankle and before that it was because you thought you had a concussion…” The (h/c) sighed, shaking his head and resting a hand gently on Josh’s knee, “I don’t know how to tell you this, Josh, but I think you should probably look into finding a new hobby.”

The brunet sighed, glancing away sheepishly. He needed to tell you the truth; this farce had gone on long enough. If he was being honest with himself, it was starting to get pathetic. “I’m not actually this clumsy,” he murmured, suddenly finding a crack in the old Starbucks sign fascinating. 

(M/N) hesitated, fingers lingering over the worn cotton of the gauze as he paused to look up at the other male. "Wha-" The (h/c) stared up at him silently for a moment. "Josh, have you been hurting yourself just so you hang out with me?"

"That's not- well, I-" He swallowed hard, one hand clenching into a fist as he forced himself to keep talking, "You're always so busy patching everyone up, and sometimes I just wanted some time with you to myself. If I'm injured, I have an excuse to come talk to you.”

"You don't need an excuse to come talk to me. We're friends, aren't we?" (M/N) asked, brows furrowed over confused (e/c) eyes.

Josh shrugged, biting his lip and turning away so he didn't have to meet his eyes. "But what if I don't wanna be just friends anymore?" 

The (h/c) blinked up at him, sitting back on his heels so he could look up at the brunet better. "Are you asking me out?"

Josh shrugged halfheartedly, "I was trying to, yeah."

"Then sure," (M/N) grinned up at him, pushing to his feet. "But no more getting hurt just because you want a date."

Josh smiled up at him, gingerly standing as well, mindful not to put too much strain on the bandages, "Deal."

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From the moment the explosion had gone off, Turbo had been quick to establish himself at the top of the hierarchy of survivors. Even as the teens that had survived the start of the apocalypse broke off into factions and started tribes of their own, he ruled over them all the same way he and his friends had towered over the rest of the school before everything went to hell.

Sure, now feeding traitors to Ghoulies had become the new equivalent to football games and his ex-boyfriend had abandoned him to go off on some strange samurai redemption quest, but at least Turbo still had you.

If he was being honest, Turbo hadn’t known you existed before the start of the apocalypse, but after it started, he hadn’t been able to stop noticing you. 

The first time that he could recall being distracted by you was one night at American Ninja Idol, where you were watching on with your arms crossed and a distinct frown on your face while all of the other spectators cheered as this week’s victim was dropped into the Ghoulie pit. He’d admired the way the firelight highlighted the muscles in your arms and shoulders, and he’d made a mental note to convince you to join the Football team if things ever went back to normal, but otherwise put your disapproval out of his mind.

The next time he remembered you catching his attention was when Josh Wheeler and his accomplices had escaped the Jocks. He’d seen the way you watched the brunet as he made his escape, not making a move to stop him, despite how easy it would be with the loaded crossbow that you carried. He’d watched the way your jaw tensed as you watched Josh and he had wondered why you looked so angry as you watched him flee. Josh Wheeler’s name ended up on Turbo’s “Must Die” list that night.

There was the day that he saw you tightening the bolts on the American Ninja Idol Ghoulie pen, just because you’d noticed that they looked loose and didn’t want to risk anyone getting hurt if you could help it. He’d had the entire fence replaced two days later and couldn’t give Mona a satisfying answer when she had asked him why.

Then there was the time you were the one chosen to bring his breakfast to him in the former principal’s office and you’d wished him a good morning before ducking back out before he’d even gotten the chance to try to force out a rough hello.

And the day after that when he learned that you’d been the one to make his breakfast since Sam Dean had gotten sick and you’d asked what you could do to help out so she could rest. He’d had Mona take the blonde medicine so you wouldn’t have to do so much on your own after that day.

Eventually your presence in Turbo’s head had grown so powerful that he’d even considered making you perform in American Ninja Idol, if only to get rid of you and be done with it, but the ache in his chest at the thought of not having you around any longer was more than enough to chase that thought from his mind in mere seconds. No, what he needed to do was talk to you and figure out why exactly he couldn’t get you out of his head.

When Mona had dragged you away from the kitchen where you’d been helping Sam prepare dinner for the tribe, you’d been certain that Turbo had finally had enough of your aversion to violence. This idea was only solidified as you were dragged into the remodeled principal’s office, where the burly King of the Jocks himself was waiting for you.

You were pushed to sit in the chair across the desk from your tribe’s chief, left to look uncertainly between the two as you waited to hear why you’d been brought before the chief. 

Mona and Turbo seemed to be caught in a staring match, clearly each having their own idea of how this would play out. Eventually Turbo’s second in command crumbled, heaving a sigh and turning to face you. “I’m not sure what’s going on with him, since all he’d tell me was that he needed to see you, but if you try anything funny, I’ll hunt you down myself.”

You nodded slowly and Mona turned on her heel, slamming the door to Turbo’s office on her way out and leaving you alone with him. You kept your eyes lowered as you took in the gravity of your situation. You were on your own with the one man who could kill you with no repercussions. “Did I-” you started slowly, finally forcing yourself to look up at him and wincing a little when your eyes locked with the eyes of his mask. “Did I do something wrong?”

Turbo’s brows furrowed. Was that what you’d thought? That you were going to be punished for something? He shook his head slowly, trying to figure out how to explain himself to you. He reached up slowly, making sure you could see that he wasn’t hiding a weapon, and removed his mask, dropping it at his side thoughtlessly. “Don’t-” he cut himself off, one hand coming up to clutch at his throat for a moment. He’d forgotten how much speaking hurt. “Don’t need… to be… scared…”

He had to look away when he saw the look on your face. He’d seen it before; the first moment of shock when someone saw the burn scars mapping out where the explosions had scorched half of his face shifting to disgust when they realized what a monster the explosion had turned him into. Turbo didn’t want to see you looking at him that way too.

“Why are you trusting me with this?” You murmur, slowly pushing yourself to your feet and approaching the brunet. “Turbo, why did you ask me to come here?”

He hesitated as you came to a stop in front of him, dark eyes slowly raising to meet your (e/c) ones. He opened his mouth but couldn’t seem to force the words out, so instead he took your hand in his with surprising gentleness and pressed it against his chest, right above his heart. Turbo held it there for a few seconds before letting go, his fingertips brushing along your forearm as he released you.

Your eyes darted from his stormy eyes to your hand, blinking as you realized what he meant. “You… you like me? But I’m a guy? I thought you were straight so why-” You were quick to backtrack, nervous that he’d take it as a rejection. “It’s not a bad thing! I’m just… surprised; I didn’t think you would like someone like me.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he rasped, holding your gaze. “I like you for you.” He dragged in a wheezing sort of breath, speaking so much clearly paining him. “Guy or girl or neither or both. It doesn’t matter.” His hand came up and pressed yours more firmly against his chest. You could feel his heart beating under your palm and suddenly you understood why he’d done it. He was showing you that his heart was beating for you if you wanted it to be.

In that moment you knew what your answer had to be, so you slipped your hand out from under his. His eyes hardened, though you knew it was only because he didn’t want to be hurt. The look faded, washed away by his near-palpable relief as you took his hand in yours and pressed it over your heart, the same way he’d done to you.

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You hadn’t really seen much of your brother since the start of the apocalypse. Not that that was your fault, of course; the two of you had been together in the beginning but then he’d taken off on his quest to find Sam Dean and the two of you had been separated by a pack of ghoulies.

Honestly, you’d just been lucky that a couple of the guys from the hockey team had decided to take pity on you and save you from the mob of flesh-eaters. They’d carted you back to the school, where all the jocks had come together to create one massive tribe, ruled over by Turbo Pokowski.

Unlike your brother, you’d never really been bothered by Turbo before life had been turned upside down, which was probably why you hadn’t really been afraid when the hockey punks had shoved you into Turbo’s principal’s-office-turned-throne room. He’d let out a strange noise when he saw you, and a brief glance at Mona, his right hand girl, revealed it to have been an exclamation of shock.

She explained that his vocal chords had been damaged in an accident just after the bombs had dropped so she’d been acting as his interpreter ever since. She told you that Turbo had been looking for you, and after a moment of hesitance and an encouraging grunt from the man himself, she told you that he had had a crush on you before society crumbled. After that, Mona was quick to dismiss herself, leaving you alone with the chief of the tribe.

You’d asked him if what she had told you was true and he had dragged off his helmet, dropping it thoughtlessly at his feet. He gave you a moment to take in the large burn that marred his features before gently taking your hand in his, his dark chocolate eyes soft and soulful as they locked onto yours. He slowly lifted your hand, pressing a light kiss to your knuckles.

From that day on, you helped Turbo rule over his tribe as his partner.

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Eventually, your brother found out that both you and Sam were alive and assumed that the two of you were being held hostage by the jocks, so he hatched a plan to break into the school and rescue you. Naturally, his plan was thwarted in the first few minutes and he was quickly brought before Turbo for sentencing.

The two remained in silence for a few long moments before the door to the former principal’s office burst open and you made your way into the room, already speaking a mile a minute, “Hey, babe, sorry I’m late; I was helping Sam and Mona with the garden.” You kissed your boyfriend on the cheek before glancing up at the poor fool that’d been brought in. You paused, blinking in shock, “Josh?!”

Your brother was understandably stunned. He’d known you were alive and that you were here, but he’d assumed you’d be locked in some dungeon or forced to be on American Ninja Idol or something, not running the place! “You and-” His brows furrowed, “What the hell is going on here?!”

You glanced between your brother and your boyfriend, “Right.” You bit your lip nervously, unable to keep yourself from grinning when Turbo reached over to take your hand, running his thumb over your knuckles comfortingly. “I, um, I forgot that you wouldn’t know about, uh, us.”

Josh looked up at you incredulously, “Us?! You mean you’re not being forced into this?”

You shook your head. “No, of course not. I’ve been here for ages, but I could leave any time I wanted.” You noticed how your boyfriend’s hand tightened around yours, but he didn’t make any move to protest what you’d said. “I know you two didn’t get along before-”

“Didn’t get along?!” Josh retorted, “He was a bully! He still is!”

Your eyes narrowed as you looked down at your brother, “We’re leaders. How we lead is none of your concern.”

The brunet looked shocked, “Excuse me?”

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to continue speaking. Josh may be your brother, but he wasn’t allowed to march back into your life and tell you how to live it. “You heard me, Josh. You may have been able to boss me around when we were kids, but not anymore. I’m with Turbo now and I’m happy and if you can’t support that, then I want you to walk out that door and not come back.”

The air was heavy once you’d finished speaking, thick with a near-palpable tension. Finally Josh nodded, “Okay.”

“Okay?” You questioned, fingers tightening around your boyfriend’s.

“Yeah,” your brother replied, eyes darting between the two of you. “I’m not going to pretend that I understand, but if he makes you happy then I’ll support you.” His gaze shifted to lock with Turbo’s, “But if he hurts you, I’m not going to rest until he’s dead.”

Turbo let out a quiet huff, one that you knew was his version of a laugh, before nodding. He stood, releasing your hand and slowly making his way around the desk to kneel in front of your brother. You could see the way his shoulders squared as he began to speak, forcing the words out despite the pain they caused him, “I’d never hurt them.”

Josh eventually nodded, grinning at you over your boyfriend’s shoulder. “So, you gonna show me around, or do I have to figure out where everything is now myself?”