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aliceramblez · 8 months

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Dating the Hazbin Hotel Residents 😈

Tags: GN!Reader, Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Mentioned Mature Topics (ie. Suicidal Thoughts, Alcohol Abuse, SA, etc), Spoilers For The Show, etc.

A/N: Ahhh yes, more brainriot for the pile 😌 I was more of a Helluva gal before the show aired, but now I gotta say these blorbos are a dear part of my heart! Hopefully y'all enjoy these as much as I did writing them!

Consider following my main blog @taruchinator for more solid content & feel free to leave a request here for future HCs~

Charlie 🌈

When the Happy Hotel first opened its doors and all of Hell started making a mockery of it, you were probably the only one who took it as a sign to try and improve from the low life that you were. It's not like you had anything else to live for, anyway.

As soon as you enter the building, you're immediately greeted by the bubbly Princess of Hell herself (along with a reluctant Angel Dust) who is more than happy to show you around and welcomes you with open arms.

You've never been shown this much kindness and sympathy for your situation before, so it naturally takes you aback and makes you wonder what the catch is. Turns out there's none and the Princess is probably the only sweet soul to live in this shithole.

As you grow closer, she asks you to drop the title and just call her Charlie. She also shares a bit about her situation and how her mother wanted to save sinners from the extermination each year, and now Charlie felt like it was her duty to continue this legacy until her dreams came true.

You can't help but feel touched over how much she cares, so you silently vow to yourself to help her in any way you can, just like she's done for you.

It doesn't take long before the two of you grow even closer and feelings begin to blossom, but you decide to ignore them since why would a Princess ever like someone like you?

But Charlie proves you wrong yet again, since one day she comes to you a blushing mess and confesses her own feelings, asking if you'd like to go out with her. You can't help but vocalize your shock since she could do so much better than a random sinner. She deserved better, too.

She looks at you with fondness in her eyes. “You've been by my side for so long and supported me every step of the way. Who wouldn't fall for someone like that?”

And thus, you are the luckiest person in Hell because you scored Charlotte Morningstar, and whoever says otherwise can get a knife to their throat.

She's the perfect definition of a sweet and patient girlfriend, never pushing you to do anything you aren't comfortable with (since you really aren't used to such adoration in a romantic relationship), but as soon as you give her the get-go, she'll be sure to shower you with as much affection as she can until the doubts in your mind disappear completely.

You aren't that far behind either. Albeit not as good as her, you do your best to be a comforting partner whenever she needs you. This is especially necessary after an extermination happens, which always leaves Charlie devastated and in need of a hug or words of encouragement because she doubts herself sometimes and wonders if the hotel is even working at all.

You remind her how it brought the two of you together, to which she smiles and agrees that at least something good has come out of it so far.

Vaggie 🎀

Both you and Vaggie used to work in the same legion under Adam with the rest of his exorcists. You knew of each other's existence, but didn't really talk much aside from whatever was needed in the midst of battle.

The day she spares a demon child's life, you're doing your rounds nearby and witness the whole exchange, including Lute coming over and ripping both an eye and Vaggie's wings for showing mercy. You don't know why, but it makes your blood boil.

“HEY! What are you doing?! It was just a kid, why not let it slide?”

And just like that, you become a target of Lute's rage as well, being ripped from your angelic status along with receiving a few nasty cuts, yet surprisingly not as bad as Vaggie herself.

Once the two of you are left to die, you immediately try to tend the girl's wounds with whatever you can. Vaggie can only stare in disbelief at what you'd done and questions why you even did so in the first place—now you were stuck just like she was.

“Guess I just don't like seeing injustice... Who knew Heaven could be so fuckin' shitty?”

You both laugh at the irony of it all, and that's when luck is finally on your side as Charlie finds you in the dirty alley and brings you back to the hotel to heal properly.

For the next three years you two stay at the Hazbin Hotel, helping Charlie in any way you can to try and make her dream a reality since deep down you hope that despite Heaven's corrupt system, there can be a small chance that souls can be redeemed. You hide the fact that you're ex-Anges though, since you don't wanna cause unnecessary drama.

During this time period, the two of you become better friends, having your own inside jokes regarding things you didn't particularly enjoy from your time as Angels, as well as learning more about one another.

You're the one to come to terms with your feelings first and decide to lay them on the table for Vaggie to see—she's always been a straight-to-the-point kind of gal, so if you're about to be rejected, might as well have it be done quick. But of course, she replies with her own declaration and desire to give a relationship a shot, which you're ecstatic about!

It's a bit hard at first since you never got to see much of romantic relationships in Heaven while training for murder every year, but you try and make it work. Both you and Vaggie work endlessly to try and make the other happy, and it only makes you fall for each other even more.

Also Charlie is your go-to wingwoman who will be there to give you the best advice to try and woo your girlfriend. She ships you two so hard.

Angel Dust 🕸

Working at a porn studio under an Overlord who owns your soul can be exhausting. You know this better than anyone since everyone who works under Valentino has contracts that won't let you get far with a leash. This is especially true with your friend Angel Dust.

You know about the things Valentino does to the spider demon—hell, everyone in the studio probably knows, but know better than to say anything about it. You're always there for Angel after particularly rough shoots, doing your best to comfort him in any way you can, though there isn't much you can do given you're in the same spot.

When he tells you he's moving to Princess Charlie's Hazbin Hotel, you're so happy for him! At least that will give him some distance from Valentino and his disgustingly filthy hands when he's not working.

This unsurprisingly doesn't bode well with the Overlord, causing him to throw fits of rage around the studio when Angel leaves for the day. You can't help but make a snarky comment that you definitely regret moments later.

“Can one blame him for wanting space from such an overbearing asshole?”

Without his favorite stress toy around, you end up paying the price for such comments. The kind of pain and suffering he puts you through is completely different from what you're used to. Is this the stuff he does to Angel? He leaves you naked, bruised and bloody in your room, and all you can do is muster what little strenght you have left to head for the Hazbin Hotel.

As soon as the door opens, you immediately tumble forward and start losing consciousness. The last thing you remember is Angel's horrified expression before it all fades to black.

Once you wake up and have been patched up, you explain what happened at the studio, and you could've sworn you saw fire in Angel's eyes as he holds on to you, fearing you might disappear at any moment. He begs you to stay in the hotel with him, and you agree without hesitation.

And so, your new routine of heading to work and then coming back to the hotel becomes blissful, not having to deal with that lunatic mothman more than necessary. You also get to spend time off with your best friend, which is always a plus.

Well, ‘best friend’ might not be the best way to describe it. You'd developed a crush on the spider demon even before this whole incident occurred, and now that you were spending more time with him, it only continued to grow.

With the line of work you two had, romantic relationships didn't seem to be a thing that crossed anybody's mind since why have a permanent partner when you could just go around fucking the hottest people in Hell? But you knew your feelings were far beyond from sexual, but didn't wanna ruin what you already had going for you.

One heartfelt drunken conversation after work however, makes you do a double take—Angel likes you back. And that both scares and excites you. But with both of you going over the pros and cons with each other, you decide to give it a chance.

You make sure to always have Angel's consent when it comes to physical intimacy—anything from holding his hand, to kissing to just cuddling. He jokes about not being a porcelain doll, but deep down you know he appreciates it.

You're also there for the rough nights, when he comes home wanting nothing more than to die again and let the earth swallow him whole. Words of reassurance are spoken and you can only hold him and let him cry as you vow to do anything in your power to stop this from happening again.

Husker 🍺

As one of the first guests of the hotel, like any wayward sinner, you find yourself in the bar more often than you'd like. Alcohol killed you in the first place, yet not even in the afterlife could you seem to pull yourself from its grasp.

It's a somewhat welcome surprise to find out that the bartender is going through a similar struggle. He still serves you drinks and lends and ear whenever he's not busy, but will occasionally drop the words of wisdom to watch your fill.

Eventually you two find yourselves doing this little back and forth and aid each other when you're in your dark places—Husk won't let you near the bottle if he sees you're about to knock yourself out, meanwhile you're there to look after him when he has one too many drinks and can't take care of himself.

Not to say he isn't a good drinking buddy—you've found out most of the gossip around the hotel thanks to this sneaky little cat demon and there's never a dull moment with him around.

You learn about his deal with Alastor during a particularly bad night, when Husk's had one too many and isn't thinking straight. You don't bring it up, but now have an eye open for whenever the Radio Demon drags your friend away.

Angel's the one who brings up your questionable relationship to the surface.

“So... you two like, fuckin' each other, or what?”

Your entire face goes red, and if it weren't for the dark fur you could swear you see Husk looking the same. He's quick to get rid of Angel's nosy ass, but now the seed has been planted in your brain—do you like Husk that way?

After careful consideration, you come to the conclusion that yes, you do. And it's honestly kinda terrifying considering how relationships don't usually work out in Hell, at least from what you've seen. Besides, even if you did try and confess, there was always the possibility of him not feeling the same and just being embarrassed by Angel's comment.

So in an attempt to make your feelings disappear, you stop frequenting the bar. Who knew the best way to stop drinking habits was trying to avoid spending time with your unrequited crush?

But of course, Husk isn't stupid. He sees the change in your behavior and let's it slide for a while, until he eventually corners you and asks what's wrong. You decide to get it all out of the way and tell him how you feel.

To the embarrassment of both of you, he holds your hand firmly between his and darts his eyes toward the corner of the room. “Next time you should ask before going off assuming things, ya got it?”

And so, your glass may have been empty that day, but your heart had never felt fuller.

Sir Pentious 🐍

You meet Sir Pentious when you sign into the hotel, and your immediate thought is just how can this snake man be so adorkable, it should be illegal.

As you greet the other residents and staff, you're quick to strike a conversation with him, which based on his body language he was not expecting. He starts telling you a bit about his weaponry and other contraptions, and you can't help but be fascinated by it.

You're a bit of a tinkerer yourself, albeit you've only dabbled in small scale projects—nothing compared to the massive canons and aircrafts that Pentious seems to be familiar with.

He acts like a kid opening gifts on Sinmas when he talks to you about his inventions, clearly never having anyone show interest before. Eventually he'll even ask for your input on certain smaller projects he wants to work on to help around the hotel, all to thank Charlie for being so kind to him and giving him a second chance. You're obviously eager to help!

You two start spending so much time together that the egg boys have started calling you ‘Boss #2’, much to Pentious' embarrassment and your amusement.

One afternoon once exercises are done for the day, the snake demon seems much more fidgety than usual as he invites you over to his room to continue working on his security system prototype. He's a blabbering mess once he has you sitting down and your heart just can't help but swell at each little syllable.

“Dearest (y/n)... you've, um, well... you are a huge inspiration for my work! A-And I wouldn't have been able to create any of this... without your help. You are kind, and smart and very talented.... and w-well, um I-”

You gotta silence the man with a kiss otherwise you two would be here all day. He's puddy in your hands and you can only giggle in return. “I really like you too, Pen.”

Everyone is either saying they called it or groaning in annoyance because fucking FINALLY, you two were just dancing around each other like idiots. The egg boys are just so happy to have someone else besides Pentious to be in their lives, and will do their best to look out for you just like with their own boss.

So yeah, prepare yourself for some sickeningly sweet gestures from this guy cause he will go above and beyond to get you what you need/want even if it kills him (again). And you can confidently say that you'd do the same in return.

Alastor 📻

After running in the same circles when you were alive, it's no surprise to you to end up in Hell, although you never would've suspected that you'd find yourself in the same place as him. It was honestly a huge relief not having to go through this all by yourself.

As Alastor exerted his dominance over Hell as the Radio Demon, you were powerful enough to be an Overlord yes, but rather liked keeping it on the down low instead of making a spectacle of yourself (Alastor was the one for theatrics anyway). Because of this, only select few knew of your true power and what you were capable of.

Instead, if there was one thing you were known for, it was being the only soul allowed to be close to the Radio Demon without the risk of death.

Yes, Alastor was a sadistic, cold-blooded and egotistical mastermind, but he wasn't a monster. You knew that better than anyone. Although the reactions he had to other demons treating you like a joke or calling you the ‘Radio Demon's Pet’ were not helping his case.

“ł₣ ɎØɄ V₳ⱠɄɆ ɎØɄⱤ ₴ØɄⱠ, ɎØɄ ₩łⱠⱠ ₩₳Ⱡ₭ ₳₩₳Ɏ Ɽł₲Ⱨ₮ ₦Ø₩ ฿Ɇ₣ØⱤɆ ł Ɽł₱ ł₮ ₳₱₳Ɽ₮ ฿ł₮ ฿Ɏ ฿ł₮...”

“Al, chill. You're gonna make them shit their pants.”

After his seven year absence, you immediately noticed something was wrong with him, and wouldn't stop pestering until he told you the truth—A deal he made and how his soul was now bound to someone much more powerful than he was.

You were obviously mortified and started looking into ways to try and find a loophole to this, but alas the Radio Demon would just give you his signature grin and tell you not to worry about it. It was his battle to face.

But of course you're quick to remind him that you've stuck together through thick and thin even in life, so there was no way you were letting him handle this by himself. You work as a team—always have and always will. You engulf him in a hug.

“We're gonna figure this out, Al. I promise...”

The grin remains, but his eyes widen slightly in surprise. He hesitantly returns the embrace, patting your back and wiping the tears you didn't even know you were shedding.

“There there~ To think such a sweet and innocent soul wound up in a gutter like this. I cannot say I complain as long as I have your delightful company beside me.”

And so when he says he has a plan that involves Princess Charlie Morningstar and her new Happy Hotel, you follow along. Whatever fate has in store for you two, you'll be ready.

Also Charlie is a sweetheart who could do no harm. Knowing Alastor, he'll probably do whatever he can here and there to help around for the cause. You also offer your services as an undercover Overlord, much to everyone's surprise when you reveal your status.

The Radio Demon may have a plan, but something tells you it won't involve bloody murder (unless extremely necessary or if someone really pissed him off).

Like you said—he's not a monster.

Lucifer 🍎

You and Lucifer were good friends at the beginning of Creation. While you were stuck with the tedious task of designing blueprints for the new ‘Human Project’ that headquarters had in store, Lucifer's Seraphim status allowed him to bring creations to life with the flick of a wrist, much to your delight and wonder.

His ideas and pitches for Earth were always so entertaining to listen to, and you would do your best to encourage him to show them to the higher ups to get them approved—His mind was just filled with joy and love and wonder that you'd never seen before.

Which was why it was always so disappointing whenever he'd come back and say that he was shut down and even mocked at. How could Heaven shut down such an imaginative mind in the creation of their biggest project yet?

To say you were devastated when you heard about his fall would be an understatement. You mourned the loss of your friend, knowing that he'd done nothing wrong and thinking it wasn't fair to him to receive such punishment just because he cared for the future of humanity.

Thousands of years later, you overhear the plan for Extermination of Hell kind. You didn't mean to walk by, yet here you were, under the direct eye of the Head Seraphims about to be downcast for something you had no control over—just like Lucifer.

“You're all self-entitled pricks! You think you can do whatever you want just because it doesn't follow what you define as good!”

You get a few good arguments before being cast downwards, leaving you in bad shape in a random alley with no wings and no means of escape. That is of course, until destiny seems to be on your side and Lucifer finds you, completely perplexed to see you here at all.

After getting treated, you tell him about the Extermination so he and Hell can prepare. The conversation of you getting cast down by Heaven gets glossed over, but he can feel the fury building up inside him. You were always doing things by the book—how could they do this to you?

Once the slaughter is over, Lucifer gets a meeting with Heaven and secures protection for both his daughter Charlie and you, to which they begrudgingly agree to keep him outta their hair. You can't help but feel touched by this gesture.

He's also quick to offer you a room to stay in, but you compromise by living in a seperate building from him and Charlie so you aren't a bother even though he says you aren't. In fact, ever since Lilith left, he's had to take care of his young daughter all by himself, so he's more than happy when you offer to help.

It doesn't take long for your feelings to start coming into the surface from all those years ago, and you gotta push them away because he's both married and has a child to look after! Besides, why would the King of Hell ever look in your direction?

Eventually though, he brings up the question with nothing but sweaty palms and a customized rubber ducky that says ‘I love you’ whenever you squeeze it. You blush furiously, but can't help but bring up your concerns, not wanting to replace Lilith in his heart. He looks into your eyes and says that he hasn't been as happy as he is now in the past thousand years.

Cue baby Charlie walking in on everything, and she just smiles and goes innocently. “Daddy! Is (y/n) staying home with us now?”

You two can only chuckle at the cuteness of it and you immediately go to hug her. You couldn't believe that you were blessed with such a wonderful family.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel spoilers #hazbin hotel x reader #charlie morningstar x reader #vaggie x reader #angel dust x reader #alastor x reader #sir pentious x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #husker x reader #husk x reader

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himbosandhardwear · 3 months

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Eddie has a bad habit of picking at his skin when he's nervous. Not, like, shy nervous or stage fright nervous, but the real kind of nervous, not-sure-I’m-gonna-survive-this kind of nervous. Like while he was alone in the boat house, he'd shredded every one of his cuticles. That time Hopper caught him behind The Hawk, very obviously selling his wares, he'd bitten his lips bloody.

Tonight he's picking a scab off his knee. It's practically healed already, so it won't bleed, he just needs to feel something on his body come loose before he does.

“You good, dude?” Steve asks, so in tune to Eddie's nervous disposition. Such a good guy. What a friend.

Eddie lets his head hit his knee caps with a thunk.

“Yup.”

Steve snorts. “You don't look good. I mean… You know what I mean.”

He smiles, tilting his head to look at Steve, always happy to give him a hard time.

“Oh, absolutely. You think I look good, don't cha, Stevie?”

He gets a couch pillow to the face for that, but they're both laughing so he doesn't think he's crossed the line yet.

Yet, yet, yet.

“Seriously, what's up with you? You've been quiet. It makes me want to call the squad.”

“Har har,” Eddie mumbles, but he does uncurl himself, sitting back against the couch again. “I'm trying to work up the nerve to ask for advice but it's-” Christ, he doesn't even want to admit to being embarrassed, that's how embarrassed he is.

“It's what?” Steve asks, the picture of earnest encouragement. “You can talk to me about anything, man, we're, like, bonded in blood or whatever.”

“Right. Yeah. Except this has the potential to get real awkward, real quick, and I'm not sure we're at that level of friendship yet.”

“Well,” he drawls, “if you ask me whatever it is that's got you all flustered I'm sure that will level us up. Right?”

“I'm not flustered.” God damn his red fucking face. Steve just laughs at him. “It's just, I don't have anyone else to ask about this. Jonathan probably doesn't have this particular problem, cause he's got- Uh. Sorry.” Steve waves it away, so Eddie goes on. “The kids are too young and the band guys don't understand what we went through-”

“Eddie, just spit it out.”

“Fuck! Okay, fine! You asked for it.” He takes a giant breath, steels his spine and just says it. “The Trauma is affecting my ability to get laid and I don't know how to fix it. Every time I get close to it I freak out and have to bail.”

There. All out now.

He looks over at Steve, and it's so much worse than being laughed at or pitied. He just looks sad.

He shakes it off quickly, hair barely moving, Eddie notes. He finds Steve's hair routine both endearing and ridiculous.

“Yeah. Okay. That's super common, just so you know,” Steve assures him first. “Robin says it's all connected, your mind and your body, so trauma can, like, get trapped in weird places like that. I can't play baseball anymore. Cause the memory of beating demodogs to death.”

“As you do,” Eddie quips.

“Right. But your thing. Uh. Yeah, it took some time before I could relax enough to even attempt getting laid, let alone actually do it.”

“So?” Eddie drawls, waiting. “How did you get over it?”

Something is off. Steve's not known for being skiddish about sex, but his hesitation and his inability to look Eddie in the eye is setting off alarms.

“Hey, if this is too weird for you-”

“No, I'm good, it's fine. Just, I'm the only person you have to talk to about this, so I'm gonna try to be helpful but, uh,” he scratches at the back of his head awkwardly, “in all honesty, I haven't been laid since before Vecna either. Way before. So. Yeah. Not sure I should be giving out advice on anything.”

That's crazy. Like actually crazy. He can't even compute Steve Harrington not absolutely dripping in women. He must have some look on his face because Steve gives a dry sort of laugh, self deprecating, and leans back against the couch with him.

“Weren't you on a date with Brenda Mulligan the night- Vecna’s first attack?”

Steve shoots him a look. “Y- Yeah, but that didn't go anywhere. We weren't, like, compatible or whatever.”

Oh, yeah, it was weird that Eddie knew that at all, let alone remembered it nine months later. “That's too bad,” he replies lamely.

“Yep.”

He feels terrible for dragging down the whole night, it would've been better if he'd just kept his mouth shut. But that's never been his strong suit, as evidenced by him blurting out, “If the hottest guy in Hawkins can't find a suitable date, what fucking chance do I have.”

Steve snaps, “Don't say that. What the fuck?”

Great, now he's gone and made it weird. Good job calling your straight friend hot, you fuckin’ dipshit.

They sit in the awkward silence, out of things to say or out of useful things to say. Either way it's them breathing, the clock ticking, and the M.A.S.H. rerun playing softly in the background.

Steve clears his throat. “Whatever, let's get back to the point. You don't have to tell me if you don't want but…what do you think the specific reason is for your…issue?”

He thinks about it. Has been thinking about it, for a while now. “My dick still works, if that's what you're wondering.”

Steve chuckles, high and surprised. “Good for you.”

“Yeah. It's more like, I can't get out of my head. I start worrying about my scars, explaining them if someone asked. I think about how even though I don't want anything long-term, I wouldn't be able to do long-term anyway, because I'm a fucking mess. If it's really bad, I'll get flashes of Chrissy or Patrick's bones snapping, as a little soundtrack to the fun shit happening outside my head.”

Steve looks sad again. Maybe it is pity but it looks more turned inward, like he's dealing with his own shit more than Eddie’s.

“You hooking up with strangers then?”

Eddie blinks at Steve. “Well…duh. Right? Not like I have guys lined up around the block here in Hawkins.”

Steve is full blown scowling at the TV. It's weird.

“What if-”

Eddie waits but Steve doesn't finish his thought.

“What if…what?” He prompts, giving a little nudge with his foot.

He's still avoiding eye contact, not even turning his head to look in Eddie's direction.

In a soft voice, almost too quiet to hear, he says, “What if we helped each other out?”

He must've heard that wrong. Or he's misunderstanding.

“What?”

“What if we help each other out? Like, a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

That can't be right. No fucking way. It's a test. Like as soon as Eddie agrees, Steve yells ‘Aha! I knew you wanted to molest me! Goodbye forever!’ and runs out the door.

“What, exactly, do you mean? Like, what are you getting out of it?”

Steve finally looks over. “Well, I would think that was obvious. If you're willing.”

Eddie's legs are starting to go numb.

“Okay, so I blow you and you blow me, except when you're doing it I have to watch you take it like you're being force fed liver and onions at Grandma's house?”

Steve slowly shakes his head no.

“Oh, okay, so you're going to blow me and enjoy it,” he snaps sarcasticaly.

Steve nods once.

“You want to blow me?”

“Mmhmm,” he hums without moving a muscle.

“Since when!” Eddie brings his octave down from the upper atmosphere. “Since when, Harrington? This is insane behavior. Should I call the squad for you? I'm serious. I'll do it.”

“You don't have to say yes. I was just offering.” He says it like Eddie isn't one green flag away from stomping on the gas.

He starts nervously laughing, which makes Steve flinch unfortunately, but he can't stop.

“It's cool, just forget I said anything.” He moves like he's about to get up and leave, which is fucking insane because it's his living room. Eddie stops him with a tight grip around the bicep.

“Don't you dare. If you're even remotely serious, we have to have a much longer conversation. Sit.”

Steve drops like a sack of bricks. Which is…something.

“Right. First off, this is uncommon behavior in a straight friend. Is there something you'd like to tell me, so I don't think you've been body snatched?”

He pinches at the top of his nose, like Eddie is inconveniencing him greatly. Too bad.

“I'm probably bisexual.”

“Probably?” Eddie asks with a raised eyebrow.

“I'm an inexperienced bisexual,” he amends through clenched teeth.

“Good. Great. Happy to hear it.” His heart may explode from his torso à la Ridley Scott's Alien but sure. “Second on the agenda, what do you mean help each other out? What's on the table? Mutual handjobs and then we never talk about it again?”

“No,” Steve answers immediately. That's good. “I'm open to…whatever you're open to.”

“Steve.” He has to clear his throat. “You dont even know what you're agreeing to.”

“I trust you.”

Fuuuuuck.

“Okay, right, uh, let's circle back to that later. Third thing, what, uh, what is your level of commitment with this?”

He just stares at Eddie, all doe eyed. It shouldn't work, Eddie fucking invented that look. It's gotten him out of more scrapes than he can count. Now it's being used against him but to what end? Does Steve want to get bundled up in a blanket and tucked into bed? Because Eddie can make that happen for him.

“Whatever you want, I guess,” he finally says. “I mean, like I said earlier, friends who help each other out. Casual. I'm not interested in looking for Mrs Harrington anymore and you're having a problem relaxing around guys who don't understand what you went through.” He makes a gesture like ‘Ta da.’

He's not wrong. It makes sense. But…

“Fourth thing. Is this just an experiment for you? Cause I'm all for you exploring your sexuality but, historically speaking, friends are a bad place to start.” AKA ‘it will break my fucking heart if you decide you're not that into it and it's because it's me.’

“Eddie. Look.” He gets more comfortable, facing Eddie straight on finally. “What you're going to provide is practical knowledge on what has only been theoretical up to this point, but the theory has already been well established.” He taps his head. “Understand?”

A smug confidence melts Eddie into the couch. “You liiike me,” he sings. “You think about me naaaked. You wanna-”

Steve lands on him, lacking any elegance or grace, and nearly caves their skulls in with his Jay Garrick approach to kissing. Eddie doesn't say a fucking word. He does wonder at the fucking majesty that is making out sober. What a revelation. Steve keeps making these tiny, almost wounded noises, to the point where Eddie tries to back up and do a check in but Steve doesn't let him, he chases him down and latches back onto Eddie's bottom lip like he's Hannibal Lector. It's stupid hot.

Everything is going great until Steve lets out a sound that legitimately has Eddie worried he's upset about something.

He pulls back and asks, “Are you okay?”

“Oh fuck, I'm sorry. I just can't, I can't believe I got this fucking far. You're so hot I'm losing my fucking mind.”

“Me?” Eddie snaps. “Dude, you're out of your mind.” He pokes Steve in his meaty chest. “Literal. Prom. King.”

“Fucking stupid high school shit, are you kidding me?” He sits up, straddling Eddie's hips, which is boner enhancing to say the least; he's got Steve's thighs in his grasp immediately. “You don't get it, I'm gone on you. I've got it bad, man. I was playing it cool earlier-”

“At no point tonight were you in any way playing it cool.”

“-but, fuck it, guess I'm ruining it, cause I can't be cool about this. I don't want casual. I don't even want to date you,” and before Eddie can even worry about that, he says, “I wanna skip straight to boyfriends, man. I know you said you didn't want long term with anyone but-”

Eddie interrupts again, this time by pulling Steve back down horizontal and kissing him like he just bravely declared himself as all in.

If this is a pod-person, well, that's a problem for Tomorrow Eddie. Tonight Eddie just landed Steve Harrington as a boyfriend.

#i might save this to flesh out later #who knows #steddie #ficlet #my writing

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andvys · 1 year

Text

I know places E.M.

Warnings: 18+, smut, reader giving Eddie a blowjob, bullying, Jason being Jason.., reader is a popular cheerleader

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary: You cheer Eddie up in a special way.

Word count: 2k+

Author's note: this is inspired by this Steve smut when reader mentioned her past moments with Eddie... this is only one of them, there's more coming. @mysticmunson thank you for inspiring me to write this hehe

stranger things masterlist

The cafeteria was bustling, loud voices, laughter and giggles sounded through the large room, the cheerleaders were gossiping, the jocks were laughing loudly about something, the nerds were already doing their homework instead of eating and you were observing.

With a hand under your chin and a pointed look in your eyes, you were looking around, searching for him. You always looked forward to his dramatic speeches, you loved watching him, how he’d get on the table and come up with theatrical words as he insulted the jocks and the rich popular kids, he knew he would only get shit for it later on, get another black eye or a flat tire, yet it never stopped him, he only came back with a smirk and do it all over again.

You were waiting but he didn’t come.

“Hey, are you okay?” Chrissy asks, nudging your shoulder.

You nod but your brows are furrowed. His friends were at their usual table but he was nowhere to be found.

You turn to look at your friend, noticing that her boyfriend wasn’t here either.

“Yeah, I’m fine, I’m gonna go to the restroom, gotta fix my hair.”

“Your hair looks fine,” she mumbles as she eyes your ponytail, raising her hand to brush it back, “pretty as always.”

You smile and suddenly her eyes widen, “wait, are you trying to impress someone, oh my god, who is it?” She gasps, raising her hands to cup her cheeks as her eyes flash with excitement.

“No one,” you chuckle, shaking your head.

“Tell me everything!”

You get up, rolling your eyes at her excitement, “there’s nothing to tell, I’m just using the restroom,” you say as you step away from her.

“I still don’t believe you.”

You only shake your head at her with a small chuckle before you walk away. Just as you’re about to walk into the hallway, the door opens and in walks Jason with his asshole friends, they are laughing about something and you already know what they are laughing about.

Rolling your eyes and clenching your jaw in anger, you push past them and step into the hallway. You find Eddie standing by his locker, his back pressed against it. He sniffles as he holds his aching nose. His fingertips are painted red from the blood that is seeping out of his nose.

You clench your fists in anger, contemplating going back to punch Jason and break his stupid nose but instead you focus on Eddie, making your way towards him.

“Eddie?”

His head snaps up at the sound of your voice, glassy eyes meet yours, they flicker with surprise when he finds you looking at him with soft eyes.

You step closer to him, frowning at the state he is in.

He stares at you with wide and curious eyes, blinking, his lips are parted in surprise. He looks confused.

“You’re bleeding,” you mumble as you stop in front of him, eying him for a moment. You take his hand, pulling it away from his face, your eyes widen, “fucking Jason, I hate that guy.”

Why is the popular cheerleader talking to him?

His breath hitches in his throat when you press yourself against him to check for more wounds on his face.

“I’m okay,” he whispers.

Eddie can smell your sweet perfume, intoxicating. Your glossy lips are set in a pout when you raise your hand to touch his chest, “can I take care of you?”

“W-What?”

You chuckle at the expression on his face, his red cheeks and the dumbfounded look on his face.

“Can I take care of you? Clean you up?”

He blinks, raising his brows.

What the fuck did he do to get you to even talk to him?

You bat your eyelashes at him, giving him a small smile.

“Is this some prank? Am I about to get jumped by your friends?”

You frown at him, smile falling a little. Yeah, you might be mean and a bit of a bitch to certain people but you are not a bully and you would never do this to someone, let alone him.

“No, I just wanna help.”

He swallows nervously, slumping back against the lockers, he eyes you up and down, the way he always does. Eddie has never really talked to you but he holds the door open for you every chance he gets, giving you cocky smiles when you walk past him, he wasn’t exactly subtle when he would check you out but you liked it, your giggles gave it away.

“Can I help?”

He licks his lips, staring at your soft exposed skin, your beautiful eyes, your lips that curl into a smile when you catch him checking you out, yet again.

He almost forgets about the pain that Jason has caused him.

He doesn’t have to answer your question, you know the answer already, you take his hand in yours, wrapping your fingers around his calloused ones. Leading him through the hallway, you make your way to the restroom.

Eddie stares at you, ignoring the way his stomach flutters when he feels your much smaller hand in his.

He looks down at your little cheer skirt, watching the way it moves softly, your hair bouncing. He clenches his jaw, gripping your hand tighter.

He has dreamed of this way too many times. Getting you alone, flipping your skirt over your ass, pulling your hair as he fucks your tight little hole. He spent too many nights fisting his cock and fantasizing about fucking you in his little cheer uniform.

Crushes never lasted long for Eddie and he wasn’t into any other cheerleaders but you? You were stuck in his mind, you nestled your way into his head, infesting him. You haven’t even touched him, you haven’t even talked to him and yet you were all he could think about.

When you step into the restroom, you slam him against the wall, for a moment he thinks that you will kiss him but instead you turn back, leaning over the sink to reach for the paper towels.

Eddie almost growls at the sight of your skirt moving up. He could just bend you over the sink and take you. God, he feels like a perv. You are being nice, trying to help him and he is here, having all these thoughts about you.

You step in front of him again, brushing his curls back, you grab his jaw and bring the towel up to his face, cleaning the blood off gently.

Eddie’s breath hitches in his throat, his eyes widen yet again when he feels your chest against his, your gentle hand on his face, your soft eyes.

“You poor thing,” you whisper, “he got you good, huh?”

Eddie blinks, “I-It’s not that bad.”

You frown, shaking your head, “you’re bleeding.”

“I’ve had worse.”

He fights the urge to grab your waist.

Your lips look so kissable, so perfect. You are so very beautiful.

“This is bad.”

You’re bad, pressing yourself up against him, acting all innocent. He knows you know what kind of an effect you have on him. He knows you can feel his hardened cock against your lower stomach, you know that he wants you.

“Can I cheer you up?” You ask as you throw the paper towel in the trash without turning away from him. You place one hand on his chest and the other in his hair, playing with his curly hair as you bat your eyelashes at him, “can I make you feel good, Eddie?”

His heart starts racing, a shiver runs down his spine, “w-what?” He knows exactly what you mean but he has to hear you say it.

“Can I cheer you up?” You repeat.

“I– how?”

A smirk tugs at your lips, “you know how,” you purr, sliding your hand down his chest and his stomach, your fingers graze the cuffs on his belt and he already whimpers, you haven’t even touched him yet and he is already whimpering for you.

You place your hand over his clothed dick, palming him.

“Oh, f-fuck.”

“Can I suck your cock, Eddie?” You ask as you stand on your tippy toes, leaning closer and placing your lips on his jawline, “please?”

“You want to suck my cock?” He asks in confusion, why would you want him?

“I always wanted to suck your cock, pretty boy,” you giggle, watching the way his eyes widen and his cheeks flush red, “so… can I? I wanna make you feel good, I wanna take your pain," you say as you caress his cheek with your manicured fingernails.

He shivers, loving the feeling of you against him, touching him like this.

In what world would he ever say no to this or to you? He grabs your waist and walks you back, pushing you into the tiny stall, he locks the door behind him and turns around to look into your eager eyes, cupping your cheeks, he mumbles please.

“Please what, Eddie?” You tease, eyes glinting with amusement.

“Please suck my cock, sweetheart.” He whines, eyes staring back at you with neediness in them.

You slam him against the wall, murmuring good boy as you latch your lips onto his neck. You could see the way he looked at your lips, the way he chased after them when you got close enough, he wanted to kiss you but you will save that for another time.

“You’re adorable, Eddie,” you giggle as you lean in to kiss his jaw again, hands reaching down to unbuckle his belt.

Eddie is breathing heavily, his eyes are still wide, he is still in shock, feeling like this is nothing but a dream that he will wake up from any moment but no, you are here, eagerly sucking at the skin on his neck as you shove your hand into his pants.

You moan against him, “I've thought of this so many times, Eddie.”

He moans and gasps at the same time.

You have dreamed of this?

"I touch my needy pussy and think of your big cock inside of me."

Holy fuck.

“Fuck baby, can you show me?” he pants, tilting his head to give you more access to his neck. You lick and bite and suck on his sensitive skin, marking him up, giving him the hickeys that he always wanted from you. You giggle, the sound shooting straight to his heart.

You giggle, "you wanna see how I touch myself?"

He nods eagerly. You clench your thighs together, sighing as you pull back to look at him, "maybe next time."

Please, don't let this be a dream, he thinks to himself.

“Yes, I– fuck… please.”

You tease him with your hand, holding his cock in your much smaller hand and fuck, does it feel good, it feels so much better than his own hand.

“P-Please,” he whimpers, “if you keep this up, I’m gonna cum in your hand.”

You giggle again, pulling your hand out of his pants, you pull them down in one swift motion, licking your lips as you drop down to your knees, in front of him. The shocked expression on his face, the lustful gaze, the parted lips– god, he looks so fucking good.

“You have such a pretty cock,” you say to him as you wrap your hand around him, pumping him a few times again, earning moans from him. Pre cum is already leaking out, rolling down his length. "So big... are you gonna fuck me sometime, Eddie?"

"Please, fuck yes, I wanna fuck you so bad, baby." He whines.

Your stomach flutters and you can feel yourself getting wet.

You kiss his tip, almost laughing at the gasp he lets out. You keep your eyes on him, staring at him through your lashes as you swirl your tongue around him a few times, watching his reaction closely.

“Oh my– fuck.”

You smirk.

And finally you wrap your lips around him and take him into your mouth, fully. He hits the back of your throat, you bite back the gag, your eyes water but fuck, you love it. You continue to tease him with your tongue as you begin to bop your head.

“H-Holy shit,” he gasps, panting above you as he stares down at you in awe. He reaches his hand down to grab your ponytail, pulling roughly. “Your mouth feels so fucking good,” he moans as he tries to stay still.

“Mhmmm,” you moan around him, hollowing your cheeks as you suck him off.

“Baby… baby,” he whimpers, “you’re taking my cock so well, fuck… you’re such a good girl.”

His moans are loud, echoing through the restroom, he doesn’t even care if anyone is gonna walk in, all he cares about is you.

"W-Who would've thought the pretty cheerleader is a little slut for me?"

You moan and whimper as though it brings you pleasure to suck him off, to choke on his big dick. You look up at him, there’s arrogance in your eyes but also adoration? What the fuck? What kind of gods have blessed him this day?

“You’re such a filthy slut, fuck.” He grunts as his dominance takes over, he grips your hair tighter, pulling out whimpers from you.

His words make you whine, pressing your thighs tighter together. He wasn't supposed to make you feel like this.

Eddie stares at you in awe.

Who would’ve thought that this would ever happen? Maybe he should thank Jason for punching him, maybe he should let him do it again if that means that he would get you like this again.

His words only make you moan even louder, sucking his dick more eagerly. You are desperate for him.

“P-Please don’t stop.”

Your eyes are filled with tears, saliva is dripping down your chin and you are moaning like a bitch in heat. You love this just as much as he does.

He bucks his hips into your mouth, gripping your head tightly causing you to choke around him.

“Shit, I’m sorry–” he whimpers as you interrupt him by hollowing your cheeks tighter around him. Bringing your hand up to play with his balls.

Eddie is in fucking heaven.

This is not a dream, this is very real. You’re here, on your knees, sucking his dick and worshiping him.

His throbbing dick twitches inside of your mouth, prompting you to get more desperate.

“I’m gonna cum, sweetheart,” he whimpers, trying to keep his eyes open because he wants to see you.

Your eyelashes flutter and you look into his eyes eagerly.

“Fuck…. fuck.” He grunts, “I’m– cumming.”

Eddie cums hard. His vision blurs as he spills inside of your mouth. He feels as though you sucked the life out of him. Despite the dizziness, he manages to keep his eyes open, looking down at you, he watches you swallow his cum.

“Holy fuck,” he whines, “you’re so fucking hot.”

You giggle, not bothering to wipe your mouth. You tuck him back in his boxers, helping him put his jeans back on, you fix his belt and get back on your feet. The shocked and fucked out expression on his face makes you giggle.

He is speechless, staring at you in awe.

Eddie’s heart is still racing, his legs feel like jello. What have you done to him?

You brush your fingers through his curls and wipe the sweat off his forehead, leaning in, you press a kiss to his cheek and smile at him.

“If you ever need someone to cheer you up again, you know where to find me,” you wink, giving him pat on the cheek and one last kiss before you make your way out.

Eddie doesn’t even manage to make a sound, let alone form a sentence, he just stares at you, watching you leave.

Only as the door shuts, he comes back to his senses. Staring into blank space as he breathes heavily. A smile tugs at his lips.

“Holy shit.”

He thought that he was blessed that day, that it was just a taste of something he would never have again, not knowing that it was only the beginning of it all.

He didn't know that he would get you again, in open yet secret places.

He didn't know that it wasn't just him who wanted more but also you.

tagging some faves @littledemondani @corrodedcorpses @wroteclassicaly @mysticmunson @bimbobaggins69

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson blurb #stranger things smut

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luveline · 11 months

Note

I'm in an angsty mood.. and I love love love Spencer x bombshell!reader.

maybe she gets hurt somehow (maybe like an unsub or something) but refuses to get checked out

ty for requesting!! sry this isn't super angsty

cw criminal minds typical gun violence

Blood is a strange thing. It can run quickly or slow, feel tepid or burning hot. It's warm and uncomfortable as it slinks down the curve of your shoulder to the very tip of your index finger, dark as coal pitch in the poor lightning.

The gunfight is promptly ended, so quickly that no one even knows you've been hit. Morgan throws himself at one unsub and the other is shot in the thigh. Your ears ring, a gun firing too close to your head, clearly.

In all the hubbub, nobody notices you're hurt.

You'd like to keep it that way.

It's not that you believe you're infallible, nor that the others believe it either, but in the grand scheme of things it is a very small cut that you can attend to in your hotel room alone with a butterfly stitch or even a roll of bandages. There's no way it requires real stitches, and no way you're gonna sit in the back of an ambulance for the next hour.

Your jacket is black. The wound clots itself while you're in the SUV —you choose a window where your arm faces away from everyone and you manage it. And truthfully… you would like the others to think you're smarter than getting hit by a stray bullet. After everything that's happened lately, you've reason to build yourself up. Let the others hold you in some prestige again.

It works for a time. You get back to the hotel, and everyone says goodnight. Your room is clean and waiting for your return.

You'd collapse into bed if it didn't mean you'd leave a bloody line on the linens. You shed your ruined jacket and throw it in the trash. Your shirt is split where the bullet nicked you, and that comes off next. The wound begins bleeding sluggishly at the agitation but doesn't erupt, and stays strong as you wipe the skin clean around it. Your fingers mar with copper stain, the face cloth you've sacrificed turning an ugly brown, but eventually you've cleaned the skin enough to see the damage.

It's deep but small. A nick.

The issue is your lack of bandages. It's a hotel room, a small one. There's no first aid kit and your go bag is sorely lacking. Which means…

You have to go bat your eyelids at someone, and if you're being honest, you only ever want to do that to one Dr. Spencer Reid.

He's not expecting you, clearly. You weren't expecting it either. "Hey," he says, rubbing his eyes, his pyjama pants flush to the floor.

"You were sleeping? I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, are you kidding me?" He opens the door wider to encourage you in, turning away from you as he murmurs, "S'like my dream."

He must be very tired. You beam like a fool and follow him inside. "I had a dream like this once, too. Same kind of dream, do you think?"

"Knowing you, probably." He's growing more comfortable with you, but he's still clearly a little flustered to be this suddenly presented with you, wrapping himself up in a cardigan hanging over the single sad chair. "What's up?"

"I'm glad you asked." You take your uninjured arm out of your coat, and then the other. You know what you're doing, laughing softly as his eyes turn to dark dimes in an otherwise pale face. "I need your help with something, Spence."

"Uh–" He stammers, looking you up and down with shock. "Um, I–" He licks his lips quickly. "Okay."

You kind of hate that you aren't there to seduce him for a split second. Too bad your arm has started to throb. "I need a bandaid," you say, turning your arm into his line of sight. "Help me out?"

—

"I know something you don't know," Morgan sing-songs. Emily sips her coffee, mildly interested by her friend's taunting. She doesn't give him any feeding, waiting, and sure enough he cracks. "What, you don't want to know?"

"You want to tell me, right?"

"Mm, no. I'll tell Penelope."

"Fine! Alright, what is it?" She breaks, putting her coffee down on the little table in front of her. They're sitting in the hotel lobby waiting for Hotch and the others to collect their things. The jet awaits, as do a few hours in the air before she gets to sleep in her own bed again.

"I saw–" Morgan laughs. "This is too good. I saw a certain bombshell visiting Reid last night. After hours."

Emily's heart kicks in. "No way!" she gasps. "I mean, I know there's something between them, we all know that, but– his room, seriously?"

"He didn't even question her. She knocked, he answered, she went inside."

"What were you doing up?"

"That's my business," Morgan says.

Emily leans forward to gossip. This is insane. Sure, you flirt with Spencer relentlessly, and sure, he blushes like he loves it the majority of the time, he even manages to get you back, but you're sleeping together? "This is so scandalous," she whispers.

Her job is hard, but God does Emily love her team. She's genuinely happy for you both, but seriously! She giggles to herself at the drama of it all, and Morgan looks like he might say more, but then he looks behind her and stops.

Emily turns. You and Spencer are walking out of the elevator together, and while you aren't looking more coupled than usual, Spencer's acting unusually. "You're sure you're okay?" he asks, hushed but carrying in the relatively quiet lobby.

"I promise I'm okay, Spence." Your voice drops. "It's our secret, okay?"

"Sure, but–" He takes your hand, there, where everyone can see, the love in the line of his shoulders clear to anyone who might be watching, which Emily and Morgan very much are. "Can I look at it again?"

Morgan laughs into his hand, hiding it with a cough too late. Emily kicks his leg and he looks admonished, but it doesn't convince you where you look up from your conversation, the same surprise written in your features as Emily herself feels while Spencer continues, "You need to let me take care of you," he says, practically pleading.

"Spencer," you say, looking Emily straight in the eye, "you took care of me just fine last night."

She gawps.

Spencer whispers in response to your lowered tone, making his answer partially inaudible, "It was my first…" He shakes his head. "I've never… and I know you said it didn't hurt that much but… go see a doctor–"

You stop him with an affectionate smile. "You could never hurt me, handsome. Do I look like I'm in pain?"

"No." Spencer drops your hand. "If you're sure. Let me go get you a drink, okay? Go sit down."

"Yes sir."

Nothing about you says anything different to usual as you sit on the lobby chair next to Morgan's, beside your worn hoodie. You fiddle with a fraying sleeve as you kick one leg over the other, giving your friends a pleased smile. "Morning," you say lightly.

Emily genuinely doesn't know what to say. Her mouth hangs slightly ajar. "I…"

"You're shameless," Morgan says with a laugh.

"Look," you say, shrugging though the action makes you wince, "I could tell you the truth and you wouldn't believe me."

"Sure we wouldn't. Reid looks like a lost puppy right now."

Spencer stands anxiously by the coffee machine across the way, his gaze locked solidly on you where you sit. You throw him a smile and he looks away.

"I don't deserve him," you say softly.

Spencer carries your bag for you all the way to the BAU. Emily doesn't think it's a question of deserving, though you do, only an example of Spencer's big heart. And, you know, post hookup appreciation, or something.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

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bluerosefox · 1 year

Text

Gothamites Never Really Rest

Small warning in this: very light swearing, light mentions of deaths, and tw light touching on the subject of abuse, like very light. But still an fyi.

Danny was used to his main Rogues (Boxy, Ember, Skulker, etc etc, you know those guys) showing up randomly and at odd hours, causing some chaos around town due to their own boredom or just wanting some fun (the more deadly ones were rare to show up and his main Rogues do at least respect him enough to give him the rest of the day off when they sense a ‘big bad’ fight), he fights them, wins, before he send them back to the portal. Then they rinse and repeat this for the next day.

So as he really wasn’t expecting, especially since he had just sent his ghostly quota for the day back to the portal a few hours ago (Boxy of course, and Youngblood (dressed as a Firefighter this time, though the ending for their fight actually ended on a good note. YB had been asking Danny about space, Danny kinda hoped YB will be an Astronaut next time cause that would be fun)), Johnny 13 (and Shadow) to phase into his room as he was heading to bed.

Honestly (he groaned when he realized who it was, dealing with Johnny, Kitty (and Shadow) during a ‘break up’ or ‘lovers spat’ always was a pain) he was expecting Johnny to just start attacking but before Danny could demanded to know what he was doing in his room Johnny hesitatingly asked if they could talk.

Now Danny, talking to his main Rogues, like legit talking was a very rare thing. But it has happened a few times.

With Johnny asking if they could talk, his face nervous but not in a 'I pissed off Kitty and idk where she ran off to again', Danny nodded and agreed.

"Hey, so like I know we all kinda agreed not to go roaming too far from Amity because of the whole government suits guys and bringing unwanted attention to us ghosts in the names of the Super Dorks but is it alright if Kitty and I head across the state for a few days? I promise we'll be back and stay under the radar..."

"What?! Why would you guys need to something like that?!"

"....."

"Johnny, look dude I know Amity can get boring sometimes but-"

"Someone killed Kitty's abusive waste of space father three weeks ago, you know that fucker that killed us in cold blood when he found out Kitty and I were enloping. Yeah him. We felt it, we felt him die and... kid I can tell you how our cores SANG about it when he croaked. Whoever ended him, they did so for us. It was a revenge kill... It felt amazing. Its why you havent seen us too, we... we needed time to process that." Johnny quickly explained and that shut any protest Danny had up, he knew a bit of the story how Johnny and Kitty died, and it was respectful to allow one's fellow ghost to talk about their deaths should they talk of it.

With a melancholy smile and a hand petting a chirping Shadow who sprung up to comfort his other half, Johnny then said "Kitty's been avoiding returning to Gotham for ages since we woke up in the Realms and whenever we found a natural portal back to it. She's always been terrified of running into him and even being a ghost she's still can't. But he's gone now, we felt his life end and he isn't a ghost either! Like legit, if he became a ghost we'd still be able to sense our murderer you know!... Anyways she wants to visits her old haunts and maybe see if we can find some old friends, see how they're doing you know. We won't mess with them or anything, just a small pop in..."

"We... We also kinda wanna find the guy who did it too... We could feel his emotions when he ended Kitty's old man and firstly let me tell you, rage. Like a lot of it. But also we felt his need for justice and... he felt familiar... like someone we knew and he knew us. That's how we know it's a revenge kill. Someone did that for us and well.... Kitty and I wanna thank him you know."

-x-x-

Meanwhile in Gotham about three week prior.

A budding Crime Lord had crossed out the face of a older man from a photograph pinned onto a corkboard, below and connected by red strings was two other papers as well. One held the newspaper clipping of two bodies being found in a ditch with the remains of a busted up motorcycle, a young male and female were reportedly found halfway buried in it. The male was reported to be a trouble maker from Crime Alley, knowen for stealing tires while the female was the daughter of a suspected mob boss.

The other string however, lead to a small, yellowed from age and tiny bit damaged photo of three people. The photo held two older, nearly out of their teens, male and female both looking like rough city street kids. A motorcycle could be seen behind them an it was missing a wheel. The young man with blonde hair was kneeling on the ground, his hands holding onto a tire iron and he looked rather proud, the young female was wearing red and had some dye in her hair and was smiling as she held the camera taking the picture in a selfie as best as she could.

In between the two was a young kid, blue eyes and black hair, a beaming smile on his face as his own hands were on top of a tire wheel. A wheel he had finally learned how to take off in record speed thanks to Johnny teaching him.

Green eyes that shifted for a second to teal stared at the photo for a moment before saying

"Hope you both are resting easily now. Kitty, Johnny."

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lovebugism · 7 months

Note

I positively adore steeb and shy!reader 🥹 can I please request steve comforting shy!reader after her first experience with the upside down? he just vows to take care of her?

ty for requesting!! — steve takes care of you when you won't let anyone touch you after fighting vecna (shy!fem!r, hurt/comfort, friends in love, cw for mentions of bruises/injuries, 0.9k)

Hawkins Memorial Hospital smells overwhelmingly of bleach and very faintly of copper. You think the last bit might just be you, though. The scent of metallic blood and alternate-dimension muck hasn’t quite left you — even though you’ve scrubbed yourself raw in the shower, three times over.

You sit in Max’s vacant room while she’s out for surgery. Everyone else is either sleeping off the grief or getting themselves checked out. You can’t do either — too plagued by nightmares and too frightened at what the doctors might find if they look at you too close.

Steve finds you in the dim room, lit only by natural sunlight, standing in front of the small square mirror against the wall. You get lost in the splotchy bruises on your face until he knocks gently on the cracked open door.

“Hey…” he greets, gently to keep from startling you.

You swallow down the fleeting panic. “Oh. Hi.”

“I, uh, I brought you some ice,” he tells you and steps further into the room, waving a plastic bag of chipped ice in his hand. “I saw you flinch when you wrapped up Dustin’s ankle. I figured your shoulder was bothering you…”

He’s visibly shy, but you’re impossibly shier. The deafening quiet and the proximity of your bodies are equally suffocating. You cower beneath the weight of it, wringing your clammy, cut-up hands together. “I’m— I’m fine. Thanks…”

Steve flashes you a wavering smile, lopsided and perfectly pink. He forces a laugh through an aching chest because you haven’t talked about what happened since you got back. He figured it was normal at first — that you were still grappling with the whole fighting monsters thing, but you haven’t let anyone touch you in days. The doctors have been begging to look you over since you got here.

“I just… I wanna help,” he confesses.

A pleading look swims in the deep honey of his eyes. It becomes impossible to turn him down. You’d have an easier time fighting Vecna, you think.

You swallow hard. “It’s… It’s my back,” you shrug, then grimace when the movement makes you ache.

You’d fallen through the decrepit floor of the Creel house and landed hard in the basement. The vines slithering there broke your fall. For the most part, anyway. The damn things would have swallowed you whole if Steve hadn’t been brave enough to jump in after you.

“Can I see?” he wonders.

You hesitate for a moment. “I haven’t really— looked at it yet,” you murmur with a pained look twisting your features. You turn around when Steve approaches you. You feel his warm fingers along your back, knuckles skimming over your skin as he lifts your shirt with a slow and gentle touch — giving you ample time to stop him if you wanted.

When you don’t, he raises the fabric to the middle of your spine. The entire canvas of your back is darkened with a hardly healing bruise. The sight of it makes him grimace. “Jeez…” he mumbles before he means to.

Your brows pinch. “Is it bad?”

“We’re gonna need a lot more ice,” he answers with a forced laugh.

You giggle at his half-joke. The pretty sound makes him smile.

“You should probably see a doctor—”

“No,” you interject with a firm shake of your head, sterner than he’s ever seen you.

“But it’s— It’s kinda gnarly—”

“I’m fine,” you insist, despite the bruises darkening your skin. You turn back around to face him and avert your gaze at the pitiful look he gives you. You cross your arms over your chest and bite back a wince. “I’m okay, Steve. There’s other people to worry about right now.”

Max, for one. And all the rest of the kids for another. And the rest of the town who lost something in the earthquakes. You got off pretty lucky, all things considered — just a couple of bruises. And a cut or two. And some pretty gnarly nightmares. But that’s it.

Steve’s lip quirks in a sympathetic smile. “Here. C’mon. Sit down.”

He urges you to the made-up hospital bed with a hand hovering over your lower back. Your perch on the side of it, one leg curled beneath you, as Steve slides in behind you. He raises the hem of your shirt and presses the icepack against your shoulder blade, where the bruises seem darkest. His touch is gentle and feather-light, almost comically so. The bag of ice just barely grazes you.

“Is this okay?” he asks.

You nod. “Yeah… Thanks.”

His hand grows heavier when his touch becomes more confident. The stinging of the cold soothes the deep ache in your shoulder.

“No problem,” he says before swallowing down the nerves crawling up his throat. “I’m always here, you know? If you ever need anything.”

You exhale a sharp laugh through your nose. “I feel like you have better things to do than take care of me,” you murmur, wringing your hands into a knot in your lap.

“Well, I don’t.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“What?” he scoffs. “That I’d rather dote on you than do anything else?”

“Yeah,” you laugh and shoot him a playful look over your shoulder. You smile when you find him already grinning at you.

“Well, believe it, alright? ‘Cause you’re stuck with me now.”

“Am I?”

“Yep,” he answers, popping the p.

“We fought monsters together, and now we’re bonded for life?”

“Exactly.”

You flash him another glance, eyes glittering as you bite back a beaming grin. “Sounds miserable,” you tease.

Steve nods with a crooked smile. “Absolutely horrible.”

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #st drabbles #stevie drabble

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angelbarelywrites · 6 months

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♡ slashers scenarios | first meeting (part 2)

♡ fandoms; Friday the 13th, House of Wax, Black Christmas, Scream (kinda)/ Dead by Daylight, slashers (general)

♡ characters; Jason Vorhees, Bo Sinclair, Danny Johnson, Billy Lenz, Bubba Sawyer

♡ reader; gender neutral

♡ cw; Billy Lenz, mentions of violence and general slasher activity, kidnapping, stalking

♡ notes; i didn’t include Bubba last time, so i slipped him in with the pt 2 team :v

also for ghostface i went with Danny over Billy + Stu, just because i’m more comfortable writing older characters tbh. and he’s very attractive to me. maybe i can do a college au fic of them in the future?

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

Jason Vorhees

> you were lost

> utterly, hopelessly lost without a map, compass, or even your backpack

> you were out camping with a couple of new friends when you wandered off to pick flowers

> well, acquaintances more like- they weren’t particularly nice to you, but you knew one from your home town

> before you knew the sun was starting to set and you had no clue which way to go

> you’re kicking yourself for being so dumb but try to make the best of it, continuing to collect flowers and pretty rocks

> soon enough you find yourself on the edge of a lake

> that couldn’t have been good- there weren’t any lakes near the campsite at all

> maybe this was that old summer camp they’d mentioned?

> either way you turn around and try your best to retrace your steps

> but even with a full moon it’s just too dark and too dense and you’re exhausted

> holding in tears, you find a small meadow and finally sit to rest

> you’re still sniffling and rubbing your eyes when someone walks up to you

> you were so oblivious that Jason was able to get a few feet in front of you before you noticed

> he seems…perplexed to find you there

> he thought he’d gotten all of the campers

> and you didn’t really look like you belonged with those fornicators

> (or at least that’s what he told himself to justify leaving you alive)

> he’s holding his machete and soaked with your companions’ blood, but you don’t seem to notice

> “…can you take me back to my friends?”

> well he most certainly cannot do that, not if he wants you to like him- though he’s not sure why that matters

> he’s still staring so you, exhausted, do the only thing you can think to

> “…do you want a flower? I picked a lot”

> he’s delighted and takes it before finally gesturing for you to follow him

> you can’t keep up, so eventually he picks you up

> and like that you’re nearly dozing off

> you don’t even notice he’s taking you back the way you came from

> and he’s glad- he wasn’t going to give you much of an option anyway

Bo Sinclair

> single travelers are so much easier to deal with

> so when Lester gives him the call that some college kid was stuck on the road, he’s eager for an easy catch

> you take your sweet ass time getting to the station- even though Lester drove you most of the way you let him drop you off just outside of town

> the smell of the truck was really getting to you, and you’re happy to let the dog lead you

> when he strides out you’re cooing over Jonesy and giving her a belly rub for her troubles

> he’s seen his fair share of attractive victims

> men, women, and folks that didn’t fit either category

> and he’s slept with most of them

> but you… there’s something extra special about you

> he decides right there he’s not taking care of you without at least getting a taste

> you’re not too impressed by his flirting- or at least you try and act like it

> but he catches your pink cheeks and quiet giggles as he takes you on a walk

> because of course he’s got the part down the road at his place

> by the time you get there he’s decided he’s marrying you - or maybe keeping you tied up, beggars can’t be choosers

> he’s impulsive but he’s never wanted to keep anyone before

> “hey sugar-“ god your face heats up just hearing him call you that “turns out I don’t have that part you need. It should be in by tomorrow, if you can stay the night?”

> you say yes before you can think critically- he’s good at getting folks wrapped around his finger like that

> “Good. Cause I’m just dying to show you some real southern hospitality…”

Danny Johnson

> he knows you long before you know him

> he’s a natural nosy guy- he’s a journalist after all

> and a serial killer, of course stalking is on his to do list

> originally you were going to be a victim

> you’d make a good story, a young person taken tragically early

> but you were too cute to die just yet- he had to at least meet you, just once

> if you were a dick no one would say anything nice for your article, right?

> so he just happens to bump into you outside your work one day

> literally bump

> when you spill coffee all over yourself he smoothly apologizes and offers to help clean you up

> “What a mess- I’m so sorry sweets. Let me take care of all this”

> and you fall for it, hook line and sinker

> he’s a handsome guy, he’s used to that but he’s smug anyways

> he gives you a spare shirt of his, though you still skip work

> he buys you another coffee and you sit in his car chatting

> you’re innocent enough to trust him like that- to get in a vehicle with a strange man?

> a strange man that’d been stalking you, no less

> it’s adorable- if he wasn’t so attached he could kill you right there

> but you’re just so damn sweet, and genuine

> and you’re so fascinated by these Ghost Face killings…

> maybe you’re worth keeping around for a bit

> just a bit

> that’s what he says to himself anyways

> when you meet him as Ghost Face, it’s after you’ve already got him all figured out

> and he’s lucky that you like a bad boy

Billy Lenz

> it’s a given that you first meet him over the phone

> you’re renting out a spare room from Mrs Mac, not in the sorority but a good enough tenant that she keeps you around

> you get along well with the girls and cook them meals, run study sessions and help clean

> it’s almost parental at times, even if you’re not far off in age

> Billy hates you at first, for taking such good care of ‘filthy piggy whores’

> he tells you just as much over the phone, but you’re not bothered

> you never seem to be bothered by his calls

> and that pisses him off more

> but you’re so so cute… it quickly becomes an obsession

> he’s in your walls constantly, watching you

> and the calls from the moaner start coming more and more frequently at times you’re home alone

> one day you just start giggling at him, tipsy “you know, you scare the girls,”

> “good i—“

> “but your voice is sooo nice. that’s why i pick up so much”

> you didn’t mean to confess that , and you hope he takes it as an awkward joke

> when he hangs up you think that maybe he did take it that way

> its not until late that night that you realize that he knew he was sincere

> before you can register that there’s anything wrong he’s covering your mouth and pinning you to your bed

> “hi there, baby doll,”

> his grin gets huge when your still horrified face goes bright red

> he always knew you were perfect

Bubba Sawyer

> you pick up Nubbins hitchhiking one day, and he’s just dumbfounded by you

> you’re nonplussed by his rambling and you don’t squirm at his yucky pictures. you don’t even kick him out, just drop him off at the gas station.

> you’re not really his type, but you’re fascinating

> he’s gotta get you home to meet his brothers

> so he pops your tires when you go inside- all four

> when you come back out Drayton is cursing him out and smacking him upside the head

> he makes him take you back to the house to rest up while he gets you tires

> of course he intends for Bubba to kill you

> but Nubbins doesn’t pass the message along, because he’s Nubbins

> “Here Bubba! I made us a new friend!”

> you shyly greet him, but he’s an oddly calming presence

> let’s be honest you’ve gotta be okay with a lot fast to like the Sawyers

> so maybe you’re just in denial about the material

> but you tell him you like his mask- and you do

> he obviously worked really hard on getting the makeup just right- and it compliments his suit

> he stares at you a long while before taking your hand and giving you a grand tour

> well, more a tour of his favorite spots

> the chicken coup, a patch of wildflowers out back, and his room full of trinkets collected from victims

> you’re strangely enamored by this big, quiet man

> and you don’t get the sense you’re allowed to leave

> especially when Drayton comes home and goes on and on about witnesses

> but you didn’t really even have an end goal in mind on your road trip anyways

> and now you’ve got Bubba to protect you

> maybe it’s not so bad, stuck with those weirdos

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shmaptainwrites · 7 months

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐀 [𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐒𝐎𝐍]

PAIRINGS — James Wilson x ex-wife!Reader

SUMMARY — James and Reader have not been on great terms since their divorce, but an emerging situation with their son forces them to put aside their differences and work together and hope that past feelings don't resurface

WARNINGS — hospitalization, chronic illness, swearing, complicated feelings (idk y'all they're divorced what more can I say)

NOTE — Okay so I have so many things to say about this fic, but if I say them all this post will be way too long it already is like this came up as 33 pages in my docs but this is a day late birthday present for @shots-of-wilson-and-whiskey who also provided the James pic I hope you had such a fun day and a great year of simping ahead!

Pronounciation — Mahlet = Ma-h-let | Hennock = Hey-knock

Ever since you had become a mother, birthday parties were the bane of your existence. The sugar overload, the loud noises, the cleanup afterwards, all amounted to your own personal hell. Yet, you would move hell or high water for your son to have the most enjoyable party every single year.

Today was no different, eight years later you were still breaking your back to ensure every small detail was perfect, from the pin the spikes on the stegosaurus to the cake you’d spent at least a month painstakingly training to make.

A friend of yours, another parent from the school your son Julian went to, came over in the kitchen to give you a hand with some of the snacks.

“How are you managing here?” she asked and you took a deep breath.

“Managing is the operative word,” you chuckled. “Kids having fun out there?”

“Yeah, loads, you’ve outdone yourself again,” she assured you. “Will James be making an appearance?”

“I stopped asking myself that question after we got divorced,” you said while fixing the plate of vegetables and dip. “He’s supposed to, he promised Julian, but we all know how that ends.”

There seemed to be a bit of commotion out in the backyard and you tried to assess what was happening from the window, but your suspicions that something was off was confirmed when Julian’s best friend, Hennock, came rushing inside.

“Mrs. Wilson, something’s going on with Julian,” he said and you frowned while your friend followed you outside to see the kids circling around Julian who seemed to be gripping onto his chest.

“Jay, what’s going on? Are you okay?” you bent down to be closer to his eye-level, trying to understand what was happening to your son.

“Can’t…” he pointed to his mouth. “Can’t…breathe,” he wheezed.

Your eyes went wide, but before you could grab him and run for the car he began to cough and you hoped and prayed there was just something caught in his throat that would make its way out, but with the coughing came spatters of red all over your white shirt.

“Mahi,” you looked over at your friend quickly while picking Julian up. You didn’t have to say a word, she already knew what she needed to do.

Living close to the hospital, it was worth it to drive yourself, that way you didn’t have to wait for an ambulance to get to you. You had made the mental calculations many times before, just in case there was an emergency and now it was finally coming in handy.

When you got Julian in the car, you checked in on his breathing, it was still laboured, but at least at this point he was getting in the air, even if he was coughing up blood.

You turned on the car and began driving while calling your ex-husband with one hand. The line rang until you reached voicemail so you called again, expecting at least this time for him to pick up, only to hear the tone once more.

“Dammit James!” you threw your phone down on the seat next to you knowing you’d deal with him later, now you needed to focus on getting to the hospital without killing either of you.

Barely paying attention to how your car was parked, you grabbed Julian out of the back seat and ran into the ER with him.

“Ma’am, what’s going on?” a nurse came and asked you as you put Julian down.

“My son, he-he’s having trouble breathing and he’s coughing up blood I-I-I don’t know what’s happening.”

Before you could say a word they had whisked Julian away and another nurse came to ask you some questions about his medical history and any information that may be important to the doctors treating him.

“Where’s my son?” you asked, “I want to see my son.”

“Ma’am I’m sorry, but the doctors are working on getting his airway cleared, you can’t be with him right now.”

You pressed your lips into a thin line and bit back your tongue. There were a million and one things you wanted to say to the nurse, but none of them would help your situation. On the other hand, finding your ex might.

So instead of finding the waiting room you went over to the elevator and made your way up to the oncology department, briskly walking through the halls until you reached his office. At this point, you didn’t bother knocking, opening the door to see him sitting down over a file and talking with House.

“Hey Greg,” you said in a fake cheery voice. “Mind giving us the room?”

“Oh, this is the wife with the kid, did you forget to pay child support?” House asked James.

“Get out, Greg,” you said warningly and he listened, instead opting to steal the rest of James’ sandwich and slipping past you, while wishing James good luck and letting you slam the door shut behind you.

“What’s going on?” James asked, clearly confused by your demeanour and appearance. “If this is about the party I didn’t forget I was-wait is that blood,” he stood up from his chair and came over to you.

“What’s going on is you didn’t pick up your fucking phone,” you said angrily.

“Hey,” James looked at you sternly. “What is going on?” he repeated his question, this time more pointedly.

You could feel your lips begin to tremble and your vision became blurred while you shook your head.

“Who’s blood is on your shirt?”

You chewed on the inside of your cheek, “It’s Julian’s.”

“Julian-I-what happened?” his demeanour changed from frustrated with your attitude towards him to worrying for his son.

“I-I don’t know he said he couldn’t breathe and then he started coughing up blood and I just picked him up and drove him here a-and now they won’t let me see him.”

“You drove him?” he asked incredulously. “You didn’t think to maybe call an ambulance?”

“That’s what you’re hung up on? That I decided to drive because it was faster than getting him an ambulance?”

“That’s not what I-,”

“Yes it is,” you stepped back. “I wouldn’t have needed an ambulance if you were there.”

James sighed and chose to ignore your comment,

“Where is he?” he asked.

“Emergency room,” you muttered. “They won’t let me see him, you need to talk to them, say something, anything.”

James nodded his head, at least you could agree on that. He walked with you out of the office and to the elevator so you could go to the ER together and figure out what the hell was happening to your son.

When you got down there and James began speaking to the nurses, they informed him that Julian had been moved to the ICU and his respiration was being closely monitored while they ran a few tests to see what had caused the arrest.

You had to fight to hold yourself upright when they pulled back the curtain and you could see Julian hooked up to all the machines and with a ventilator tube stuck down his throat. You covered your mouth with your hand and shook your head again. This couldn’t be happening, now you were supposed to be cutting into cake and opening presents, not sitting in the ICU.

You stepped inside with James and he closed the curtain to give you a bit of privacy and decided to look over his chart and see if they had given any relevant information there. Seeing none, he turned his attention over to you, seeing your eyes filled with tears, unable to tear your gaze away from your son.

James walked over to you and cautiously put a hand on your shoulder, eventually encouraging you to turn around so he could pull you into his arms. You allowed your tears to soak his white coat, gripping onto him so tightly because there was nowhere else to hold.

You could hear his breathing change, accompanied by the small sniffles and you knew he was doing just as bad as you were right now, wiping the tears from his own eyes as he finally allowed himself to see his son as he was, sick, helpless, vulnerable, and only moments ago, without his dad’s help when he needed him most.

Your moment was interrupted when you heard the curtain being pulled back and you saw two doctors standing there. You pulled away from James and wiped whatever remaining tears were in your eyes so you could properly address them.

It seemed as though one of the doctors recognized James and when he looked down at the file and saw the name he made the connection internally.

“Can we talk to you guys out in the waiting room for a moment?” he asked.

“I don’t want to leave my son,” you shook your head.

“Ma’am, this is the ICU and the visiting hours are very strictly adhered to, I think your husband maybe got lucky and pulled a few strings so you could see your son, but we need to leave now.”

“He’s not my husband,” you muttered and reluctantly followed them out of the makeshift room and towards the waiting area.

“Did you find out what was wrong?” James asked, crossing his arms over his chest. “I looked at his chart. You took him for an emergency CT and bloodwork.”

“We also ran a few other tests,” the doctor began explaining. “From the medical history your, um, ex wife gave I had a suspicion of something so we ran a sweat test to check for elevated chloride levels and it just came back positive.”

“Chloride levels?” you looked up at James. “What does that mean?”

James sighed and ran a hand through his hair, “It means Julian has cystic fibrosis.”

“I-I’ve heard of that, is it curable?” you asked.

“I’ll leave you guys with Dr. Liu, he deals with the pediatric cystic fibrosis cases and will be able to answer your questions better than I can,” he wished you a good day and left you alone with the other doctor.

“Cystic fibrosis is manageable-,”

“So you can’t cure it,” you reiterated.

The doctor shook his head, “Unfortunately there is no cure for CF yet, but many people have been able to live longer and happy lives with the medical technology now available.”

James was silent, taking in all the information that was being presented.

“How did he get it? Is it contagious or-or was it just always there?” you asked.

“It’s a genetic condition, so he’s always had it, the symptoms have just gotten to the point where they’re now visible,” the doctor explained.

“I-It’s genetic so one of us is a carrier?” you pointed to you and James.

“We both are,” James said. “Both parents have to be carriers to pass it down to their child, right?”

Dr. Liu nodded and you pressed your lips together.

“C-Can you just tell us what this means for right now?” you asked. “I just think-I think I need a minute.”

Dr. Liu nodded his head and explained they were giving Julian medication to help with the infection and airway damage that caused him to cough up blood, then they would get him on some bronchodilators to help with his breathing for the time being while they assessed what other issues the cystic fibrosis had potentially caused in his body. He’d have to stay at the hospital for a while, but hopefully could be moved to the pediatric ward within the next day or so.

“We can talk more about what Julian’s medical journey will look like later, I’ll give you guys some time together and if you have any questions, Wilson’s got my pager and knows where my office is.”

You nodded your head and thanked him quietly as he left the waiting area. You finally sat down on one of the chairs.

James took the seat next to you and you covered your face with your hands.

“We couldn’t give him a functional family and a happy home and now we’ve given him a chronic medical condition to top it off.”

“Blaming ourselves isn’t going to do anything for Julian,” James said.

“And sitting around here is?” you asked and James sighed.

“No, no it’s not.”

You sat there in silence for a little while longer before you noticed James stand up and motion for you to follow him. As much as you didn’t want to listen to him and just sit and wait until they would let you be with Julian again, you got up and followed him to one of the OR supply closets. He used a key to unlock the door and sifted through some materials until he found what he was looking for, pulling out a scrub shirt in your size and handing it over to you.

You looked down at your own shirt, seeing the red specks of Julian’s blood and closed the door behind your both, pulling your shirt off over your head and handing it to James. You were about to put the other shirt on when you noticed the flecks of dried blood against your chest.

While you eyes were transfixed on that, James had grabbed an alcohol wipe package from the shelves and tore it open with his teeth, removing the wipe and reaching over to help you clean the blood off yourself.

“James, I can do it myself,” you reached for the wipe, but he pulled it away.

“You’ve got some on your neck too, just let me take care of it,” he insisted.

You knew better than to cause a fight over something trivial like this right now so you put your hands down, watching as James tossed your shirt over his shoulder and carefully began wiping away the specks of your son’s blood off your chest, collarbone, and neck.

“Have you eaten today?” he asked you while holding your face to tilt it to the side so he could get a spot he’d missed earlier.

“No, why?”

“Because it’s his birthday, you’d always forget to eat until dinner and even then it would be scraps from the party until I forced you to eat something better,” he recounted. “Let’s just go grab something from the cafeteria before we go back to the ICU, okay?”

“Will it make a difference if I say I’m not hungry?” you asked.

“You can’t take care of Julian if you’re not taking care of yourself.”

You scoffed and pulled the shirt over your head, “And you’ve suddenly become an expert on taking care of your family?”

“Believe it or not, we were once happy and there was a reason we got married and decided to have a child together.”

“And there’s a reason we got divorced too,” you added and opened the door behind you.

You didn’t go to the cafeteria, instead heading back to the ICU waiting room knowing either visiting hours would have to start eventually or they’d move Julian to his own room and you could finally sit with him.

James clearly hadn’t followed you so you ended up alone again, wringing your hands and waiting for some sort of news.

Eventually, you felt a bag drop on your lap and you looked up and saw James standing overtop of you. You looked inside and saw a package of a sandwich, a small bag of chips, and a water bottle.

You knew he was right, that if you didn’t take care of yourself you wouldn’t be able to take care of Julian, so you forced yourself to eat, even if you didn’t want to.

A little while later, Dr. Liu had returned and informed you that they were moving Julian to the pediatric ward and you could stay with him there in his room. When you joined him there, James had taken off his white coat and tossed it on one of the chairs, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt and sitting down next to Julian’ taking one of his hands in his own.

“Don’t you have patients you need to see?” you asked, sitting on the opposite side of the hospital bed.

“I told Cuddy I needed the day, someone else is taking care of it for me,” he said, not removing his gaze from Julian.

With the two of them sitting next to each other like that, you could clearly see the similarities Julian had with his father. They shared the same eyes and nose, and when they smiled they had the same little creases around their eyes.

You wished that’s what you could have been looking at, them smiling together, instead of the frown etched onto James’ face and Julian still fast asleep while an oxygen mask now delivered the air he needed to help him breathe.

“Do you know much about cystic fibrosis?” you asked James, brushing your thumb against Julian’s other hand.

“Only that it mainly affects the digestive system and the respiratory tract,” he explained. “I’m not too familiar with how it's managed, just that there’s regular doctor’s visits and probably some medication and therapies involved.”

You could feel a small stirring and you looked down and saw Julian’s hand begin to move underneath yours.

You smiled when you saw his eyes blink open and James was quick to stand up and come closer to him so he had a familiar face to look at while he took in his surroundings.

“Hey buddy,” James smiled and you could see Julian light up at the sight of his dad. He lifted his hand to try to remove the oxygen mask, but James gently encouraged him not to. “This is giving your lungs an extra hand right now, let’s just keep it on until the doctor tells us it's okay to take it off.”

“But you’re a doctor,” Julian countered and James chuckled.

“I am, but I'm not your doctor. I am, however, your dad so you have to listen to me anyways,” he teased and bent down to kiss his son’s cheek and tickle him a little bit in the process.

“Hey, go easy on him,” you placed a gentle hand on James' arm and he laid off.

“You know,” James said. “It’s still your birthday.”

“It is?” Julian asked and you both nodded and James reached down to grab something he’d brought with him.

“All the presents your friends got you are at home waiting for you to get better so you can open them, but this is what I got for you,” he said. “I was gonna come and bring it to the party, but I think you brought the party to me.”

Julian laughed a little at that and you rolled your eyes, of course James could make himself look good by not showing up.

He sat up with the help of his dad and pulled out the tissue paper from the bag to see the present that was hiding underneath. With a big grin on his face, he took out a dinosaur stuffed animal along with a book all about the different species of the Cretaceous period.

“This is awesome,” Julian grinned. “Thanks dad, I love it.”

James gave Julian another kiss and you joined them, taking a seat on the bed and glancing over at the book on Julian’s lap.

“How are you feeling sweetheart?” you asked, fixing the twisted band of the oxygen mask on his face.

“My throat hurts a little bit,” he admitted. “And I’m kinda hungry.”

“Let me call a nurse and we’ll see what you can eat,” you said and pressed the button to send someone over from the nurses’ station.

Meanwhile, James poured Julian a glass of water and helped him take a few sips of it. His throat was probably irritated from being on the ventilator, but his lungs had become stabilized from the use of the bronchodilators.

The nurse came and you spoke to her about getting Julian something to eat and she said she’d double check with Dr. Liu and then grab him some food.

“Hey, Jay,” you walked over to the bed and took your son’s hand in yours. “Are you okay to hang out here with dad while I go grab some stuff from home? The doctors said we might hang around here for a few days so I think I need to pack a bag.”

“Yeah, that’s okay,” Julian nodded. “Are you okay mom?” he reached up and touched your cheek and you realized you'd let a few more tears slip.

“Yeah, I’m just really happy you’re okay,” you wiped the tears away and pressed a big kiss to his cheek. “Right, Jamie? We’re both happy he’s okay.”

James looked over at you with softness reflecting in his eyes at the sound of the nickname he hadn’t heard in a long time and nodded his head.

“Bring some cake back with you,” Julian whispered. “Even if dad and the doctor say no we can sneak some.”

You laughed at his plan and gave him another kiss, assuring him you’d pack some in a container to bring for him when you came back.

When you arrived at your home, you thought you might cry at the sight in front of you. The kitchen and living room were completely clean, presents piled neatly on the coffee table along with a new card you didn’t recognize. Coming closer, you noticed the bright marker, signature of eight-year-olds across the country, with the message Get Well Soon Julian! written on it and signed by all his friends who had attended the party.

You packed the card in your bag along with a few other things and made a mental note to grab a nice thank you gift for Mahlet to thank her for what she had done.

As promised, you cut a big chunk of cake, enough for the three of you to share, and packed it in a tupperware to bring back to the hospital.

You grabbed a few changes of clothes for both you and Julian and changed out of the temporary shirt you had on and into something more comfortable for the rest of the evening, making sure everything you needed was in place before heading out and going back to the hospital.

When you got back to Julian’s room you saw James squished in next to him on the bed, the book he had bought him opened on his lap as he read its contents to Julian. Julian was resting his head against James’ arm and James was doing those big exaggerations he always would whenever he’d read bedtime stories to Julian, emphasizing all the insane details and changing the inflections of his voice in just the right way to make him laugh.

“I brought cake,” you grinned, holding up the container as you entered the room, holding three plastic forks. “If Dr. Dad says it's okay, we can eat it.”

“Dr. Dad desperately needs some sugar,” James nodded his head and closed the book for the time being while you took a seat by Julian’s legs and opened the container, handing each of the boys a fork.

You helped Julian take off his oxygen mask for the time being and placed it off to the side, acutely aware of how his breathing sounded more laboured without it.

James only snuck in a couple bites of the cake before taking the mask from your side and holding it ready in case Julian needed a bit of an extra hand.

Just as he had predicted, after a few bites of cake Julian was noticing a bit of a difficulty to get air into his lungs and James held up the mask to his face, allowing him to take a couple deep breaths.

“What do you think of the cake, Jay?” you asked.

“Really good, just like everytime you make it,” he grinned.

“I’m sorry you didn’t have a great birthday, buddy,” James apologized. “I mean with all your friends and classmates.”

“What do you mean?” Julian asked. “I think I had a good birthday.”

“You do?” you frowned curiously, wondering what kind of light he’d seen in the day that you and James as worried parents had somehow missed. “What made it good?”

“We’re sitting eating cake. Together. Just like when I was little,” he said simply and you chewed on the inside of your cheek, looking over at James whose gaze hadn’t left Julian. He almost looked disappointed, at what, you couldn’t place, but at least for the moment Julian was happy and that was all either of you really wanted.

—

You grabbed your purse from the ground and thanked Dr. Liu for all of the information he had given you and assured you’d be there with Julian at the allocated follow-up time you had arranged. You were just about to leave when James came rushing into the room, apologies spewing out of his mouth for being late.

“Late? You missed the whole appointment.”

“I-I did?” he said, looking down at his watch and cursing when he saw the time.

“Jay, sweetheart, why don’t you sit down here,” you moved out of Dr. Liu’s office and set him up on a chair in one of the general waiting areas and handed him his dinosaur book from your purse. “I just need to go have a chat with your dad real quick.”

Julian nodded and opened up the book, flipping through the pages while you grabbed James’ arm and pulled him into a dead-end hallway so you could speak in private.

“What the hell took you so long?” you asked firmly. “We waited for twenty minutes before even starting the appointment!”

“I’m sorry,” James apologized, “I was in the OR with a patient and something went haywire and it took longer than expected to fix it.”

“Still, you couldn’t have told someone to at least pass on a message?”

“I was in the middle of saving a patient’s life! What did you want me to do?”

“I wanted you to be there for your son,” you whispered harshly. “You make promises you can’t keep and I have to watch him get disappointed over and over again. He does not deserve that, especially now.”

James placed his hands on his hips and said,

“I am trying to be there, it’s not for lack of effort-,”

“Well try harder!” you threw your hands up in the air. “You’re an ex-husband James, not an ex-father. You don’t have to show up for me anymore, but you damn well better show up for him.”

When he said nothing you continued.

“Believe it or not, you don’t have to work as much as you do James. You chose to do that and right now that’s coming at your son’s expense and he is scared and vulnerable and neither of us know half of what Dr. Liu is talking to us about. Do you know what he said to me when I was confused about the management plan? He said Dad would know what this means. Dad can help us. And he’s right, you would have known and you can help so stop acting like your fucking schedule controls you and get your schedule under control.”

James was quiet for a moment before he nodded his head,

“Okay,” he said simply.

You knew better than to get your hopes up with him and you didn’t have any more energy to argue, so you told him you could talk more later, but right now you were going to take Julian home so he could rest in his own bed and finally open his birthday presents.

“Is dad coming with us?” Julian asked when you picked him up and began walking away to leave the hospital.

“No, not this time,” you shook your head.

“Did you fight with him again?” Julian asked and you pressed your lips together.

“We just had a disagreement,” you settled on. “You can call him later when he’s done work if you want to talk to him, sounds good?”

Julian was content with your answer and left it at that.

Over the next few days, aside from Julian’s call, you didn’t hear much for James and you assumed things were right on track to going back to the way they had always been. You loved your son to pieces, but this was one time you wished his dad would be here to support, working and caring for Julian on top of trying to figure out how to be his at home doctor was already taking its toll and you didn’t know how you’d be able to keep it up.

One night, you were sitting in the living room reading a book Dr. Liu had recommended. It was detailing strategies for parents with children who had cystic fibrosis. In the middle of your chapter you were interrupted by a knock to your door and you put in your bookmark, wondering who was stopping by this far into the evening.

Unlocking the door and opening it, you found it hard to hide the surprise in your face when you saw James on the other end.

“James?” you tilted your head. “I haven’t heard from you at all this week, what’s going on?”

“I reduced my patient load,” he said, “and I talked to Cuddy about reducing my clinic hours. I still have to do some administrative stuff for the department, but it can be done from home for the most part.”

“Oh,” you were surprised to say the least. You didn’t realize your outburst the other day had worked.

“You were right,” he said. “I need to be here for Julian and I can’t do that if my work always comes first.”

You nodded your head, following along with what he was saying.

“C-Can I come in and see him?” James asked. “I know our custody agreement has always been all over the place-,”

You didn’t say anything, simply opening the door wider for him to come inside.

“He’s asleep in his room,” you said. “When you’re done we can talk some more.”

James nodded and stepped inside, slipping off his shoes and taking off his jacket, making his way to Julian’s room to sit with him for a moment before joining you in the kitchen.

“Want something to drink?” you asked and he said some water would be nice. You poured him a glass while waiting for the water to boil for your tea.

“I saw the book you were reading over there,” he pointed to the couch. “Dr. Liu recommended it to me too, I just finished it the other night.”

“Show off,” you rolled your eyes and handed him the glass.

“What I was trying to say is I think something that stood out to me is having consistency and a routine is good, especially when things are new,” James explained. “I don’t think it makes sense for him to be moving back and forth from here to my place.”

“So you think we should have a home base here?” you confirmed and he nodded.

“I can come by more often, if there’s days where you need to be at work I can be doing the administrative stuff here after school and take care of Julian until you get back.”

You pursed your lips and as you heard the kettle click, moved to pour your hot water into the mug you were holding.

“These are all good ideas,” you started.

“I’m assuming there’s a but coming?”

“But I don’t want to give Julian the wrong impression is all.”

James shook his head.

“You really need to pick whatever it is you want,” James crossed his arms over his chest. “First I’m not here enough, I don’t put my family first. Now I’m putting my family first and you’re worried Julian’s going to think this means we’re getting back together.”

“He doesn’t need to get his hopes up for something that’s never going to happen,” you said flatly.

“Have you ever considered having a conversation with him instead of shielding him from every little thing that might hurt him?” James asked and you rolled your eyes.

“Clearly every little thing can hurt him!” you pointed over to his room. “He can’t even breathe without help, James. Maybe he needs to be protected.”

“Stop, just stop,” James ran a hand over his face. “I can’t get into a fight with you every single time we see each other. Julian is just as much my son as he is yours, if this is going to work we need to be able to have a conversation with each other.”

You took a sip of your tea and said,

“Okay, I’m worried Julian might take the fact that you’re around more the wrong way.”

James nodded his head, “I hear you, so maybe we should talk to him about it and say I’m coming around more to lend a hand around the house and help take care of him.”

“Dad? What are you doing here?” as if on cue, Julian had walked into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes awake and adjusting to the light.

“Julian, where’s your oxygen mask?”

“I don’t wanna wear it mom,” he whined. “I don’t like the way it feels on my face.”

You sighed, having had this conversation at least five times before, you didn’t know what else you could say to convince him.

“Hey buddy, maybe we should listen to mom on this one,” James suggested. “You know that feeling you’ve got right here,” he pointed to his chest. “That’s only gonna get worse if you don’t wear it and we don’t want to have to go to the hospital again, right?”

Julian shook his head and sighed, stomping back over to his room to grab the portable machine and place the tube under his nose and around his ears, allowing him to get the right amount of oxygen.

You looked over at James gratefully and he reached his hand out to yours and gave it a squeeze. It was nice being on the same team even if you had just been arguing.

When Julian came back he repeated his question to his dad who explained that he was here to talk to you about a few things that would be changing soon and that he’d be around more to help look after him.

“If you’re going to be here to help look after me can you stay tonight?” Julian asked. “Mom still has some of your clothes in those boxes in her closet.”

“She does, does she,” James looked over at you.

“It was the stuff you wanted to give away and I never got around to it,” you said. “There’s probably a hoodie and some pyjama pants in there if you want to stay.”

James pressed his lips together and sighed,

“You know buddy as much as I would love to have a sleepover with you I don’t think it’s a good idea if I spend the night here,” James said. “But I can tuck you in again and wait until you fall asleep to go back home.”

“Mom, can you come too?” Julian asked and you nodded your head.

James stood up and helped Julian carry his portable oxygen machine back to his bedroom and you trailed behind them, watching as James carefully tucked Julian back under the covers while peppering his face with small kisses, like he would do when Julian was younger and just learning to sleep in his own room.

“Dad that tickles,” Julian giggled and James simply smiled and continued littering his face with kisses.

“Too bad. I love you too much; I just can’t get enough of you.”

“Alright, move it,” you nudged James from the opposite side of the bed and took your turn. “It must tickle having two parents who love you so damn much.”

“It does,” Julian’s laughter died out as you both finally left him alone, sitting on either side of his mattress.

You both wished him a good night and waited as he slowly fell back asleep. When his breathing was steady and his grip loosened on yours and James’ hands you took it as your cue to leave the room.

James placed a hand on your shoulder as you stepped out of the room, prompting you to turn around and face him.

“I’ll come by tomorrow and we can work out a schedule or something, does that sound good?”

You nodded your head,

“Yeah, I have a work thing tomorrow in the evening, I was gonna ask Mahlet, Hennock’s mom, if she could come look after Julian, but if you’re around…”

“I’ll come for dinner and then do the bedtime routine,” he said and you smiled.

“James I’m begging you-,”

“I won’t be late,” he assured. “No surgeries planned and I’m ending my shift with clinic duty.”

You pressed your lips into a thin line and nodded your head.

“I’ll see you then,” you patted his arm and he showed himself out.

You walked back to the kitchen grabbing your now lukewarm cup of tea and sitting back on the couch picking up your book and opening it, reading until you couldn’t keep your eyes open any longer, falling asleep right there on the couch.

—

Over the next few months, you, James, and Julian had developed some sort of routine around school, work, and doctor’s appointments. A part of you thought you were spending more time together as a family than when you were married.

Today you had to go in for work, also having reduced your hours, but in a way that you were working in tandem with James. When you arrived back home the house smelled like warm spices and big plates of home-cooked food.

You dropped your keys on the entryway table, next to James’ keys and wallet and took off your jacket, hanging it up before coming to the kitchen and seeing Julian and Hennock doing their homework at the island.

“Mr. Wilson, what is the difference between these two words?” Hennock asked, holding up his paper so James could see while cutting some vegetables for a salad.

“I think the first one is the kind of principal in your school that looks after all the students and the other one is… man, that’s hard to describe. Hey, how do you describe what principle is to an eight-year-old?” James asked you.

“I think that kind of principle is something that guides the way people behave or act,” you sat next to Julian and Hennock. “Like a principle is the foundation for something that people believe in.”

Hennock and Julian still looked a little confused by your explanation so you tried to give an example.

“So a principle could be to be kind to everyone we meet and so people who believe in that principle will try to follow it.”

That put it in better terms for them to understand and there was a chorus of oh’s before they looked back down at their papers and scribbled down a few things to answer the questions they were asked.

“They learning about homonyms?” you asked James and he nodded.

“I talked to Mahlet,” James said, changing the topic. “Hennock’s gonna stay for dinner and she’ll come pick him up around seven.”

“Sounds good, it’s always nice to have you, Henny,” you smiled and ruffled your hand through his coarse curly hair in an endearing way.

“Thanks, Mrs. Wilson,” Hennock smiled.

James was now over the stove, stirring what looked like a soup before giving it a taste and figuring something might be missing.

“Can you taste this?” James asked. “I don’t know why, but every time I make it there’s something off.”

You took a spoon and tried a little bit of the broth, looking down to see that he was making matzah ball soup and immediately when you tasted it you knew what was missing.

“I know what it is,” you said. “But you can’t tell your mom I told you. She swore me to secrecy.”

“My mother told you this?” James asked and you nodded.

“When we were getting married she wanted me to know how to make it the way she would for you when you were sick.”

“And she didn’t think to tell her own son how to do this?” he seemed thoroughly offended, but all you could do was laugh.

“It’s tarragon. I don’t think it’s something everyone adds, it was just something special she’d put in hers to make it a little different. Here,” you reached into the spice cupboard and took out a jar of dried tarragon and took a bit of the herb out of the container and crushed it in your hands before sprinkling it into the soup. James mixed it in and gave the broth a minute to soak in the flavour before trying it again and shaking his head.

“I can’t believe she didn’t tell me!”

“I’ll let you finish having your little meltdown,” you patted his back. “I’m gonna hop in the shower quickly and we can eat when I get out.”

“Did Dad forget the tarragon?” Julian asked and you nodded your head.

“Wow, so everyone knew, but me?” James asked and you nodded your head with a shrug.

“Sorry, I guess your mom has favourites, or something.”

“Figures,” James teasingly rolled his eyes and you chuckled, waving him off and going to take a shower and change into something a little more comfortable.

When you came back outside they had migrated to the dining room table, each with a bowl of soup in front of them and a plate of salad. You sat on the same side as James since Julian and Hennock were already sitting next to each other and the boys happily recounted the details of their school day and playdate with you while everyone ate their soup and salad.

“What did you do at work, Dad?” James asked.

“Oh, nothing interesting,” he shook his head. “I think your mom was doing bigger things than me.”

“Bigger than treating people with cancer? You flatter me,” you drank some of your soup’s broth. “I had a meeting with a big company about a building they’re making.”

“Did you go do a site visit?” James asked and you nodded.

“Engineers are being a pain in the butt, keep making me adjust the design, but we’ll see who gets the last laugh.”

“Mom always does,” Julian told Hennock and they chuckled along with James.

After dinner James helped you clear up some of the dishes before heading out and leaving you with the boys. When Mahlet came by to pick Hennock up you invited her in for tea and a little visit.

“Thanks for coming to stay with Julian the other night,” you said after handing her a mug. “For once, I was the late one and James had an emergency come up so it was a huge help.”

“And how are things now, with the co-parenting?”

You took a sip of your tea, “Weirdly good,” you admitted. “We don’t argue as much which is nice and Julian gets to see his dad more.”

“Do you think maybe you’re not fighting because he’s changing?” she asked.

“I don’t wanna go down that path,” you shook your head. “If Jay hadn’t been diagnosed things would still be the same as they always were.”

“But they’re not. More often than not people show their true colours during times of difficulty.”

You took a deep breath and sighed, “If that was the case I would have seen something worth keeping when my marriage was falling apart.”

Mahlet nodded, seeing as you had a point and your conversation was halted as they boys came out of Julian’s room.

Mahlet and Hennock left shortly afterwards and you quickly got Julian ready for bed, tucking him in and then going to get settled yourself. You looked through a few client papers for work before calling it a night and turning off your bedside lamp, curling into bed and falling asleep.

Your sleep was interrupted in the middle of the night by a tapping on your shoulder and when you blinked your eyes open you saw Julian standing next to your bed.

“Jay, sweetheart, is something wrong?” you asked.

“My stomach really hurts,” he told you and you sat up, motioning for him to come sit with you on the bed.

“Where?” you asked, turning on the light and he pointed to the upper right corner of his abdomen. If you remembered correctly that wasn’t exactly where his stomach was and your suspicions were confirmed when you saw the yellowing whites of his eyes. “Oh, sweetheart, I think we have to go to the hospital.”

“The hospital? What happened?” Julian looked worried and you assured him everything would be alright.

“We’re just being safe,” you told him. “I’m gonna call your dad, maybe he can tell us a little bit more of what’s going on. Do you feel good enough to get your jacket and shoes and your hospital bag?”

Julian nodded his head and you gave him a kiss and he went off to grab his things while you did the same, but also taking your cell phone and calling James.

It took a few rings, but he eventually picked up.

“Hey, did something happen?” he asked and you could still hear the sleep thick in his voice.

“I think something’s wrong with Julian. I’m gonna take him to the hospital, can you meet us there?”

“Yeah, of course, I’m on my way.”

“James…the whites of his eyes were yellow. Does he have jaundice?” you asked.

“It’s possible, was there anything else?”

“Yeah, he mentioned stomach pain, but he pointed to like his upper right abdomen, I think,” you explained while grabbing your bag and putting on some socks.

“Makes sense as a liver issue,” you could hear his car starting in the background. “If he’s presenting symptoms now I would call an ambulance.”

“James-,”

“Just trust me,” he said. “Call 911.”

“Okay,” you nodded your head and hung up, calling the emergency services and explaining the situation to them and then to Julian while you waited for them to arrive.

James made the right call, seeing as while you were in the ambulance Julian began to throw up and the paramedics obviously handled it better than you could have if you had driven him.

When you arrived at the ER they wheeled Julian away and you began getting flashbacks to when you first brought him in.

“Where are you taking him?” you called after them, but no one answered you. “What the hell kind of hospital is this?! Where are you taking my son?!”

“Ma’am they're taking your son to do a liver biopsy,” one of the nurses came back and informed you. “We need you to sign this consent form.”

You nodded your head and took the pen from her hand, signing it, but just as you were about to ask her a question she ran off to give them the okay.

You could feel your anger and worry bubbling inside your throat and you wanted to let it out in a scream and you were about to go running after her, but before you could you felt someone grab your wrist and pull you back.

“James let me go,” you said warningly, looking back at your ex-husband.

“No,” he stated just as firmly.

“James-,”

“I am not going to let you do something you’re going to regret,” he said and pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you, even when you pushed to get away.

“James, let me go.”

“No,” he repeated and simply held onto you tighter.

“Let me-,” your voice broke and you stopped pushing away. “Please, Jamie, please I just want to see him,” you cried into his shirt and he squeezed you so tight you thought you might get bruises in your arm from the way he was holding you.

“I know, I know,” he whispered. “You brought him here and he’s going to be fine.”

“I can’t do this anymore, James. I can't be his mom and his doctor and they can’t expect me to wait out here while they drag him away and ask me to consent to God knows what.”

James didn’t know what to tell you, instead he just continued to hold you close, rubbing his hands up and down your back, and pressed a soft kiss against your temple.

You wrapped your arms around him and finally let yourself fully sink into his embrace, hating yourself for how much you liked it and how good it made you feel while your son was in some back corner of the ER getting a piece of his liver biopsied.

Eventually James pulled away from you, helping you dry your tears on the sleeve of his sweater and walking with his arm wrapped around you to the waiting area. You didn’t know how long you were sitting there, but it was possible that you had dozed off once or twice against James’ arm, waiting to hear some sort of news from the ER doctor.

“Mr. and Mrs. Wilson?”

Your eyes blinked open when James gently shook you awake.

“That’s us,” he said. “Is Julian okay?”

“Your son has a mild case of cirrhosis,” the doctor explained. “Due to his cystic fibrosis diagnosis we believe this is due to clogging and inflammation in his bile ducts.”

“What does that mean for him? Does he need surgery to fix it?” you asked, fighting back a tired yawn.

“Unfortunately, yes,” the doctor nodded. “It’s good you caught it early, there’s minimal damage to his liver so far and he’s still growing which means his liver is too. We can get him into an OR tomorrow if you consent to the surgery.”

You looked over at James and he nodded his head. You trusted him and told the doctor you would sign the papers as soon as you could see Julian.

“He’s been moved to the pediatric ward for now and Dr. Liu has been informed of the development. He should be in touch with you tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” James said and when the doctor left, he helped you up and you began the walk up to the pediatric ward.

When you arrived a nurse pointed you in the direction of his room and after each pressing a kiss to Julain’s forehead you sat on the seat bench together.

“We should sleep,” James said, but you had a hard time imagining how that would be possible.

“I’m having a hard time working out the logistics,” you admitted.

“Come on, it’ll be just like on the way back from our honeymoon,” he insisted, recalling your extremely delayed flight on the way back from France, causing you to sleep with your head on James’ lap, stretched out along the airport chairs.

You were too tired to argue or try and find another way, so you leaned down and rested your head against his legs, closing your eyes and sighing when you felt his hand rub up and down in long motions along the side of your body. Sleep could not have come quicker.

—

“Mom…Mom, Dad?”

Julian rolled his eyes when he received no answer and grabbed the stuffed animal you had placed next to him when he’d come into the room and threw it at his sleeping parents, nailing his dad in the face.

“Oh, God, mhm, wake up,” James shook you while he raised his hands to rub his face.

“Huh?” you opened your eyes and pushed yourself off of James’ lap. “Oh crap, my back. Remind me not to listen to you when you talk about doing something I did ten years ago.”

“Julian, did you throw Steggy at my face?” James asked, picking up the stuffed animal from where it had fallen on you.

“You weren’t getting up,” Julian shrugged his shoulders.

“Julian,” you chastised and took the dinosaur from James’ hand. “You could have hurt your dad’s important doctor-face,” you joked and rubbed your hand all over James’ face making Julian laugh.

“Okay, okay,” James moved your hand away and gave you a look.

“How are you feeling, sweetheart?” you yawned and moved from the bench to the side of his bed.

“A little better,” he said. “Did the doctors fix what was wrong?”

“Not yet,” James shook his head and came to sit next to you and placed a hand on Julian’s. “You’re gonna have to go in for surgery today.”

“A surgery?” Julian looked a little nervous. “Like cut me open?”

“It’ll be just a line right here,” James drew it with his finger along Julian’s abdomen. “They’re going to fix a part of you called your bile duct and then sew you right back up and you’ll be good as new.”

“Is it dangerous?” he asked.

You looked over at James, a small note telling him to lie to make him feel better. He didn’t need to know all the details.

“No,” James shook his head. “You’re gonna be fine and your mom and I will be here the whole time.”

“Promise?” Julian whispered.

“Swear on it,” James leaned in towards his son and snuck a kiss to his cheek. “We love you, buddy.”

“I love you guys too.”

Dr. Liu came by a little while later to inform you what time the surgery was scheduled for and he helped make Julian feel a lot better about the procedure. When it was finally time for him to go, you were a nervous wreck, but tried not to let it show for Julian’s sake, instead just pressing a big kiss to his forehead and telling him you’d be waiting for him once he got out.

It only took about fifteen minutes of your pacing to get James to grab onto your arm and make you stop.

“You’re gonna burn a hole in the ground,” he said.

“I don’t know what to do with myself,” you admitted. “If I sit I’m gonna fidget, if I stand I’m going to pace.”

“Then come on, let’s go to my office for a second, grab a coffee and a snack and then we can come back out and wait,” he suggested.

You agreed to his idea so he stood up and you walked side by side to his office, passing House who had some comment about your dishevelled appearance together.

“You’re an interesting man, Greg,” you shook your head at him. “You can’t think of any other reason we might be here?”

House was silent so James explained,

“Julian’s in surgery right now. He’s got cirrhosis.”

“Ah so not a late night ex-wife rendez-vous. Can’t get ‘em right all the time,” he shrugged and you chuckled. “I hope the kid’s alright.”

“Thanks, that means a lot coming from you,” you admitted.

He raised his brows and lifted his cane to say goodbye, letting you and James continue your walk to his office.

“House mind that you’re not spending as much time here?” you asked.

“No, he just bothers me more when I am around,” James said while opening the door and letting you inside.

He went towards his desk and pulled out a few packages of snacks tossing you one and you shook your head when you saw the label.

“You still eat these? I thought the FDA recalled them?” you asked sarcastically.

“I’m sorry I have better taste in food than you do,” he said right back.

“Right, this is food,” you chuckled. “And if you have such good taste why didn’t your mom tell you about her secret ingredient?”

“That’s cold,” he pointed to you with a bag of chips in his hand.

“No, it’s true. Just like your dad telling me I was his favourite wife of yours,” you opened the bag James had tossed you.

“Just shut up and eat your snack,” James chuckled and you listened to him, beginning to eat a little something, not realizing how hungry you were until the food made its way to your stomach.

“You got another one of these?” you asked and he nodded, passing it to you when you were finished with the first one.

“Feeling a little better?” James asked and you nodded your head.

“Hey James?” you said, unsure of how you’d gotten to this point, but you were too exhausted to stop yourself from saying it. “I want you to move back in.”

“You want me to do what?” he raised his brows and looked at you stunned.

“I want you to move back in with me and Julian,” you said. “It’s becoming pretty clear to me that it’s safer to have two people around when possible than not and you’re already around all the time now.”

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” he asked. “I mean you didn’t want to give Julian the wrong idea about us.”

“Our lives changed the second we got that diagnosis. I think we need to change along with everything else.”

You couldn’t believe that just barely twelve hours ago you were telling your friend there was no chance James had changed, but here you were saying things that had proved you had changed. Things you wouldn’t have dreamt of saying a year ago.

“Okay,” James nodded. “I’ll move back in.”

You just silently hoped you wouldn’t regret asking.

Waiting for Julian to get out of surgery was a little easier now that you had some food in your stomach and you decided to wait on coffee until you got the note from the surgeon that everything had gone well.

As James had continued to assure you almost a hundred times, the surgery went fine and before you knew it you were back in Julian’s room watching him sleep off the anaesthetic.

“You know he looks like you when he sleeps,” James said from the bench while you sat on the bed next to Julian.

“He does?”

“Yeah, his nose does that same scrunchy thing when he sniffles and when he snores-,”

“Hey, I only snore when I’m congested,” you said defensively.

“I never minded,” James smiled. “I thought it was cute when you sounded like an old man.”

“Yeah, but you’re not fond of all my old man characteristics,” you turned around to face him, still holding Julian’s hand in yours.

“All your old man characteristics?” James furrowed his brows in confusion.

“You told me I argued like an old man. Stubborn and could only see my own way. And I fought dirty.”

“You sure did,” James nodded. “If you brandishing my mother’s clear favouritism shows anything, it’s definitely that you fight dirty, but I never said I disliked that about you.”

“Really? Near the end I thought there was a lot you disliked about me.”

James shook his head, “No, I was just upset and you were passionate. It wasn’t like my other marriages where things just…fizzled.”

“We did go out with a bang,” you inhaled deeply.

“If it weren’t for Julian… do you think we’d…”

You shook your head.

“No, we probably never would have seen each other again. Another old man trait, I hold a pretty mean grudge.”

James pressed his lips together and looked over at his sleeping son.

“I’m happy we had him,” he said quietly. “Even if we didn’t work out.”

“Me too,” you agreed, looking over at Julian quietly snoring, just like his dad had said. “Best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

You leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to Julian’s nose watching him scrunch it up, making you smile. It was a miracle that two such flawed individuals could make a child so perfect.

—

“Alright, he is asleep, but I do warn you it took some bribery so you’ll have to buy him another dinosaur book to read to him at night,” you walked out of Julian’s room, dusting your hands off like you’d just finished a heavy labour job.

“I’ll run to the bookstore tomorrow,” James nodded and you fell onto the couch next to him and sighing as you sunk into the plush fabric before noticing what he was doing.

“Where did you pull these out of?” you asked with a soft chuckle.

“I was just clearing up the closet in the guest bedroom and I found a box of these,” he picked up the albums. “Look at this one.”

He placed the book of photos on your lap and you smiled seeing as it was Julian’s baby album, filled with small mementos and little notes you and James had made in the margins.

“Oh my God, Mom’s first day home, she looks like an angel,” you read from the side. “And my response: I look like I just got hit by a bus, cut it out.”

“You can still read my chicken scratch writing?” James asked.

“My most useless talent as I like to call it,” you nodded. “You wrote a lot in here.”

“I used to bring it with me to work cause I missed you guys so much,” he admitted. “Made me feel closer to you.”

You read through some of the notes in the book, chuckling a little at some of the written back and forth you had. Eventually you got to the family portraits you’d had taken a few months after Julian was born, smiling softly to yourself.

You remembered the day well, you felt like you hadn’t slept in weeks, James was just getting off of a twelve-hour shift and you were almost late to your appointment with the photographer. You were worried everything was going to look terrible and you’d barely had enough time to do your hair or makeup, but James had silenced your worries with a kiss and assured you the pictures would be fine.

In the end most of them were terrible, but the photographer managed to get two shots, one of you and James smiling down at Julian in your arms and another immediately after where you were looking up and smiling at each other.

“That session was a shitshow,” you recalled and James agreed. “We did get a few nice things out of it though.”

You looked back down at the pile of albums in front of you and noticed a large white one, tucked under a few things and even though nothing good could come of it, you pulled it out from the bottom of the pile, carefully blowing off the dust and turning the first page.

Centerfold, just like you remembered it, was a picture of you and James on your wedding day. You leaned further back into the couch and James scooched in closer to get a look.

You both looked younger in the picture, with that spark of je ne sais quoi in your eyes.

“I told you there was a reason we got married,” he said quietly, his hand brushing the corner of the photo.

“Yeah, we loved each other,” you said. “That was the reason.”

“Same reason we decided to have Julian,” he added.

You could feel your breathing become a little more shallow and a tightness in your chest as James spoke about Julian. You remembered the conversations so clearly, like you’d had them yesterday, caught between happy and passionate kisses while James made some dirty jokes about getting you pregnant.

That was back when he still couldn’t get enough of you. Before things changed and he slowly distanced himself until it felt like it was just you and Julian against the rest of the world, and not the three of you like he had promised all those nights throughout your pregnancy.

You wondered quietly to yourself what had changed? What had become so unbearable that there was distance in the first place? There was never a lack of love on your end which is why this was dangerous.

At least when there was distance you could be angry with him, you could go to bed at night and not remember all the little things that made you love him in the first place. He wasn’t there as a constant reminder that you loved his cooking, or even just your banter together. More importantly, it was giving you new reasons to feel that fluttering feeling in your stomach.

You’d always loved how he’d interact with Julian, but now that you got to see it day in and day out, it made it harder to weigh that against the cons of everything. Most notably, this was the beginning of the end. If you let yourself fall you would both crash and Julian would be caught in the middle once again.

You tried to distract yourself by flipping through the album photos to find some funny old picture of a relative or maybe even an embarrassing moment to tone down whatever it was that looking at that picture was making you feel.

All you could focus on was how in every picture, almost without fail, James was looking over at you. Rarely into the camera along with everyone else. He was enamoured, that was the only word to describe it, and oh how much you missed that look.

You made the mistake of tearing away your gaze from the pictures, looking up at James instead, and for a moment you thought just maybe you saw that same look in his eyes. But no. It couldn’t have been. The dim light of the lamp must have been playing tricks on you.

Finally you closed the album and put it back down, unsure of what feelings might resurface if you opened another one. Your honeymoon, family dinners and pictures were all just reminders of the happy times, not what came after.

James did what you didn’t want to, grabbing another album and sifting through the pages until he found what he was looking for, taking a picture out of its protective sleeve and showing it to you.

“Can I keep this one?” he asked.

You took it from his hands, examining it while your fingers precariously held the edges of the photograph.

It was a silly picture, something you had taken while you were travelling. James got someone to take the camera, but along with snapping a few shots while you were posed with smiles they caught a few candids, most notably, James kissing your cheek while you laughed and tried to squirm out of his grasp.

Your finger gently brushed over the spot on the photo where James’ lips were against your cheek before nodding your head.

“Sure, you can have it,” you handed him back the picture and patted your hands against your legs, preparing to stand up. “I should get to bed.”

“I’ll be out here for a while longer if you need anything.”

You gave him a tight lipped smile and stood up, walking towards your bedroom. When you closed the door behind you, you let out a breath you had been holding and ran a hand across your face.

Maybe Julian was never the one at risk of getting the wrong idea.

—

Waking up in the middle of the night always made you feel uneasy. Especially if Julian was the one waking you up. The chance that you’d have to drive to the hospital or call an ambulance was high and you hated the fear and worry that came along with any possible complications.

Tonight, you woke up on your own accord. Your heart was beating inside your throat and your stomach felt like it was housing a group of persistent butterflies.

You glanced over at the clock and saw the time, flashing in red.

3:07

You took a deep breath trying to steady your heart rate and breathing before peeling away your blanket and kicking your feet over the side of the bed. You grabbed a different pair of pyjamas from your dresser and walked into the washroom, tossing them on the far end of the floor while you stripped down and turned on the water for the shower.

When you stepped inside you hissed initially at the cold, but forced yourself to become fully submerged under the water, closing the curtain behind you. Your muscles clenched as your body adjusted to the temperature, and when the time finally came you let your thoughts and dreams become washed away by the water coming out of the shower head.

You were simply standing there, letting the water fall on your face when you heard the click of the door opening.

“Julian, sweetie,” you sighed, turning around so you could speak. “Maybe you should go to your dad if something’s wrong, I’ll come out in a sec.”

“No need,” you heard a voice that did not belong to your son.

“James? I’m in the shower. What are you doing?” you asked incredulously, feeling the need to cover yourself up even though there was a curtain blocking his view. You felt exposed nonetheless.

“It’s three in the morning, I thought something was wrong, I came to check on you,” he explained.

“And what were you doing up?” you asked.

“Got in late. There was an emergency at the hospital after you guys went to sleep, I dealt with it and just came back.”

You stepped under the running water again, washing the water over your face with your hands.

“So, is everything okay?”

“Peachy,” you said sarcastically, leaning against the wall of the shower.

“Nobody ever says peachy when things are okay,” James pushed further and you sighed, moving to sit down on the floor of the shower, still positioned under the water.

“I just had a dream, that’s all,” you said, watching as the water hit your toes and the ground around you.

“A bad dream?” he asked.

“No, it was more like… déjà vu.”

James sighed, and rubbed his hands on his legs.

“Was it about us?”

He took your silence as a yes.

James didn’t really know what to say, his hands were clasped together as he leaned forward sitting on the bathroom counter.

“You’re not gonna ask what it’s about?” you hugged your knees close to your chest.

“Would you tell me?”

“Maybe…I don’t know,” you mumbled.

There was another moment of silence before James spoke up again,

“What was it about?”

You turned to face the water with your eyes closed again, gathering the courage to speak.

“It started when I told you I was pregnant,” you said softly. “Like the memory replayed in my head, exactly how it happened.”

“I remember that day,” you heard the soft smile in his voice as he spoke. “You took the test at work and when it came back positive you came straight to the hospital to tell me.”

“I was barely two steps inside your office when I blurted it out, you were eating lunch and had that stupid look on your face with a mouth full of sandwich,” you chuckled to yourself.

“I almost choked on that,” James shook his head. “And I just remember running up to you and freaking out.”

“And then when you were done freaking out and everything sunk in you kissed me, and you told me you loved me, and we cried because we made a child. Our love did that.”

You reached forward and turned the shower off, pushing yourself up on your feet and taking a deep breath before pulling back the curtain. You had told him what you were thinking. You couldn’t get any more exposed than that.

James looked stunned for a moment and it didn’t go unnoticed how his eyes raked up and down your figure.

“Get me the robe, would you?” you motioned to the back of the door and he jumped down grabbing the robe and holding it out for you so you could place your arms into the sleeves and wrap the towelled fabric around you, trying it off with the belt.

When you turned your head to look back at James, you could tell at least you’d succeeded in raising his heart rate, much like he was doing for you recently.

You moved to go sit on the closed toilet while James retook his spot on the counter.

“Do you remember when Julian was born?” he whispered.

“I like it was yesterday. I can’t believe it’s been eight years,” you nodded your head.

He was having trouble holding your gaze and you wondered what he was about to say.

“I-I screwed up,” his voice was soft, almost hurt, like it pained him to think about what he had done. “When you were resting afterwards the nurse asked me if we were going to do a newborn screening. We hadn’t talked about it, but you were so tired and it was such a hard labour…” he swallowed thickly, his voice wavering slightly, remembering the birth. It wasn’t easy by any means and James had often thought that the hardest thing he’d ever had to watch was you in that much pain. “I told her we weren’t going to do it. I just didn’t want Julian to leave and h-he looked so perfect I never thought anything could have been wrong with him.”

James took a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling, “I am a doctor and I didn’t get a newborn screening for my son, what the hell kind of father does that make me?”

“Oddly enough, I think it makes you a good one,” you admitted.

“Even though we could have known about this years before? We could have gotten him treatment, medication, therapies, all sooner?” he looked back at you confused.

“You said it yourself, Jamie. He was perfect for us. Still is.”

James nodded his head and looked forward at the opposite wall. You stood up and walked over towards him, reaching out a hand to gently hold his face, your thumb brushing against his cheek while he looked at you.

“I don’t blame you for this,” you whispered. “I don’t blame you and I don’t think you’re a bad father.”

“I know,” he murmured, “but I do.”

You leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek, not knowing what other comfort you could offer.

James leaned in a little to your touch, sitting up straighter when it was gone, trying to play it off like he hadn’t been missing it and craving it as much as you.

You were about to say something when you heard a knock on the washroom door, and this time it had to be Julian.

“Mom? Dad, are you in here too?” you could hear his small sounding voice, a little strained and worried so you quickly assured him you were both inside and opened the door.

“Sweetheart, what happened?” you asked, noticing his tear-stained face.

“I just had a bad dream,” he sniffed and wiped his eyes.

You kissed away his tears first before assuring him everything would be fine, you and James were there to take care of him.

“Why don’t you go and lay down on my bed with your Dad?” you suggested. “I’ll get dressed and come join you.”

Julian nodded and made his way over to your bed while you went to quickly speak to James.

“It’ll be good for you. Both of you,” you told him.

“You don’t mind?”

“Just this once.”

James thanked you with a kiss to your cheek and left the adjoining washroom, closing the door behind him and giving you a minute to get changed and deal with anything you needed to before going back to bed.

When you opened the door and came back into your room, you saw James under the covers with Julian pressed close to him, their foreheads resting together while James told him everything was going to be alright and he could go back to sleep.

You slipped in under the covers, sandwiching Julian between you both, letting his back rest against your chest while you pressed a kiss to his hair.

One hand was tucked under your pillow and another was draped over Julian, and your fingers carefully placed over top of James’.

“Will you be here when I wake up?” Julian asked his dad.

“Right next to you,” he kissed his nose. “Now try to get some sleep, okay?”

Julian nodded his head and yawned and you whispered a quiet goodnight to bed him and his dad before letting your eyes close, silently smiling when you could feel James’ hand finally hold your own.

—

“You guys, relax, he’s going to be fine,” Mahlet placed a hand on both yours and James’ shoulders while you spewed out your worries. “It’s one night, I have the whole list of things he needs and I’ve taken care of him before, right? It’s just at my house this time so the boys can have a sleepover and you two can have a bit of a break.”

“She’s right,” James sighed. “I’m still worried out of my mind, but she’s right.”

“Mahi, are you sure you don’t want us to come even for a little bit?” you asked.

“Absolutely, if something happens I’ll call an ambulance and then you, but Julian’s been good for months now, he can survive one night away from home,” she assured you.

“Thank you, Mahlet. I’m sure Julian and Hennock will have a great time tonight. Just call us when he’s ready to be picked up tomorrow morning,” James said.

James wrapped his arm around you, giving you a squeeze knowing you were still uneasy about this, but deep down you knew Mahlet was right. The chances of something going wrong at this point were small and you’d had enough time since your last hospital visit to even consider doing something like this.

“You boys ready?” James called and Julian came rushing out of the room with his bag in hand, Hennock following close behind him.

“You have fun tonight, okay?” you bent down and gave Julian a kiss. “And if anything happens or you feel sick, or are having trouble breathing, tell Mahlet, okay?”

“I know, Mom. Dad already told me this like fifteen times,” Julian chuckled.

You looked up at James and he shrugged.

“Alright, well you guys better go before I change my mind,” you crossed your arms over your chest and that was all the permission the boys needed to run off, leaving Mahlet to say goodbye before stepping out and closing the door behind her.

You sighed and turned around, looking at James who had his hands shoved into his pockets.

“You hungry?” he asked.

“I could eat,” you nodded your head.

“Why don’t we make something for dinner together?” he suggested.

You looked at the clock and smiled, “I think we’ve got enough time for pizza, what do you think?”

“I think that’s a great plan,” James agreed. “I can start on the dough and you get the sauce and toppings?”

You gave him a thumbs up before putting your hand out to high-five him, noticing how your fingers so easily intertwined before you walked apart and let go.

James rolled up his sleeves and took off his watch, placing it on the small jewelry tray you kept by the sink for when you were washing dishes, while you went to the fridge and began pulling out all the things that could make good pizza toppings.

Moving to the sink to wash some vegetables, you noticed James’ watch resting there. You didn’t pay much attention when he was wearing it, but now you realized why it looked extra familiar. It was one you had gotten him as an anniversary present after your first year married.

“You still wear that?” you pointed with your eyes to the watch.

“It’s my favourite watch, of course I wear it,” he nodded while portioning the flour into a large bowl.

“Even with that engraving?” you raised a questioning brow.

“Dearest Jamie, Here’s to the first of many happy anniversaries. Love forever, Your Wife,” he recited the engraving back to you.

“I don’t know why you do that to yourself,” you chuckled a little, looking down into the sink.

“Yeah, well why do you still go by Mrs. Wilson?”

“Easier to keep the name than change it again,” you partially lied, it wasn’t the full truth, but it was what you had been telling yourself ever since the divorce was finalized.

James could sense you were lying, but he knew the only way to get you to open up would be to let himself be open with you.

“The watch is my favourite because you gave it to me. Functionally it sucks and it's uncomfortable, but you went out of your way to get me something that looked nice and that’s why I love it.”

You smiled a little to yourself, but kept your head facing the sink and continued to wash the vegetables.

“You’re not going to say anything?” he inquired.

“Do I have to?” you asked.

“That’s normally how a conversation works,” he remarked and you chuckled.

“What do you want me to say?” you asked.

“Honestly, the real reason why you kept your married name,” he said plainly.

You sighed, “It wasn’t a full lie. If I went back to my maiden name Julian and I wouldn’t have the same last name it just makes things complicated and confusing and I didn’t want to deal with it, but,” you added, “I always kind of liked the sound of Mrs. Wilson and even though I was pissed at you all the time I still liked that there was one thing aside from Julian connecting us. I don’t know, maybe I didn’t want to end up like Sam or Bonnie just…detached, like there was barely a trace that you were even there.”

“It’s a fingerprint,” James said. “Mine.”

“Yeah, even though it's small for who we were to each other, it's the fingerprint you left on my life.”

James pressed his lips together and opened his mouth to say something before shutting it and evaluated how he was going to speak,

“Can I ask you something?” he settled on.

“Sure,” you nodded, moving over to the cutting board and placing yourself on the opposite side of the kitchen island.

“Did…Did you ever stop loving me?”

Your smile faltered and James noticed the change in your demeanor, quickly retracting his question.

“You know what, forget I asked,” he shook his head and continued to knead the dough.

There was a moment of silence before you spoke again.

“I didn’t, but I got tired of not being loved back.”

James stopped what he was doing and looked up at you with concern.

“You thought I stopped loving you?” he asked.

“James, I was wife number three. Didn’t take much to connect the dots and see you got tired of me,” you said bluntly. “I wanted to know if I could count on you, and it was starting to feel like maybe I couldn’t. Then the divorce happened and everything after that just made me feel like I was right.”

James chewed on the inside of his cheek and remained silent.

“You didn’t fight for me,” you said quietly. “You fought for joint custody, but you didn’t fight for me. You just…accepted it.”

“I…I didn’t know you wanted me to fight for you.”

“Are you saying you would have?” you asked, unsure of whether or not you wanted to hear his answer.

“I’m saying I thought I didn’t even have a chance,” he admitted.

“So you wouldn’t have,” you clarified for him, beginning to chop the toppings into pieces and separate them into bowls.

He chuckled humourlessly, “I have dated one person since the divorce. I hated it.”

“Why do you have to talk in puzzles, James? Why can’t you just come out and say what you really mean?”

“And then what?” he asked. “We go back to living in the same house. Sleep in separate rooms. Move on now that we know the truth?”

“Say it,” you put the knife down and looked him right in the eyes.

“What are you going to do about it?” he asked, cleaning the dough off his hand. “I’m going to say it and you’re just going to stand there and I have to live with that?”

You walked around the counter and came right up in front of him.

“If you were listening to anything I was saying, you would stop making excuses and say it.”

“Fine!” he threw his hands up in the air. “I still love you. I never stopped loving you. These past few months, even though stressful, have been the happiest I’ve been in so long because I feel like myself again when I’m with you and Julian. Because I feel like your husband, and I feel like a father and I keep kicking myself wondering how I could have been so stupid to lose that.”

“Say it one more time,” you whispered, lifting your hands to hold onto his face. “Please.”

“I love you,” his voice was softer, relieved like after being underwater he could finally breathe again.

You finally pulled him into you, your lips hesitantly resting on his at first, before you found your rhythm again after so long. It was muscle memory, his hands finding the spot they always rested against on your hips, his lips moving in synch with yours, eventually trailing off and finding their favourite spot against your jaw and behind your ear.

“James,” you breathed.

“Jamie,” he mumbled against your skin. “Call me Jamie.”

“Jamie, Jamie, Jamie,” you repeated the nickname until he silenced you with another kiss, muffling your voice.

“God, I missed you,” he whispered when you pulled apart, breathing heavily due to your fast beating heart.

You closed your eyes while your forehead rested against his, feeling his nose touch yours, his hands still firmly planted on your hips when your thumbs brushed against his cheeks.

“Jamie?”

James snuck another small kiss at the sound of the nickname.

“Yes, my love.”

“Can I count on you?”

You could feel him nod his head and confirm with a verbal ‘yes’. And even if it turned out to be a lie, at that moment you didn’t care. He had proved to you that it was possible, you could work with that.

“I love you,” you said and kissed his nose and then you said it and kissed him again for good measure. “You told me twice; I tell you twice.”

James moved his hands up from your hips and brushed the back of his fingers against your cheek, a warm smile coming to his face.

And there was that look, the one you thought had vanished over time. His eyes fully transfixed on you with nothing but love and admiration. It didn’t take much to convince yourself you could get used to seeing that look for a long, long time.

TAGLIST —

@cuntyvicodin @paola-carter

#james wilson #james wilson x reader #james wilson x you #dr wilson #dr wilson x reader #dr wilson x you #house md #house md fanfiction #house md x reader #hate crimes md #james wilson fanfiction #james wilson fanfic #james wilson fic

636 notes · View notes

freyaphoria · 1 month

Note

Hey!! Sorry I was busy with school so I didn't get the time to log on.

My ask was a yandere Yunho one where you manage to escape your room (after a... session?🙂), knowing Yunho is still in the house. You try leaving but he doesn't let you. So you run to the kitchen to get a knife and you threaten to hurt him. But he smiles, knowing you would never hurt him. But then you realize that you would never leave the place, and therefore turn the knife around with full intention of killing yourself, and that's when Yunho's eyes widen.

I was thinking that you would finish/write the story however you want, but that's basically what happens. I'm a big fan of your Yandere work especially the Yeo one where he was pulling out nails. I've never read anything like that on Tumblr before.

Yeah that was my ask. It's usually always the good authors that don't have a million works😭

a/n: First of all, I realize this has been sitting in my drafts for a very long time and I apologize for responding after 5262627 years. And please, PLEASE can I have some feedbacks? I'm open to any feedback, good or bad; whether it's about this fic or in general.

Give it a Taste

tw: yan!yunho, yandere themes, implied sex, violence, knife, anger issues, blood, handcuffs, mentions of killing and self harm, yunho is kinda manipulative, stabbing

wc: 1.7k

taglist: @aim-blossom

Living with Yunho was difficult. You were especially tired of the jealousy fights that whenever you went out and the whining when you came home about whether you were paying enough attention to him or not. You usually do the same things every day; come home from school, spend time with Yunho, don't talk to anyone when you go out, come home again, spend time with Yunho again.... This same cycle went on and on and on. When you wanted to take a step and get rid of this cycle, Yunho did something you never expected (or did something you expected but didn't want to admit to yourself) and imprisoned you in his house. At first you thought he was just kidding and would take you out of the house after a few days; After a few days turned into a few weeks, you realized that he was really serious. You screamed at him, told him that you had a life outside and he couldn't keep you here forever, but he never listened to you; On top of that, he took your phone and cut off all your communication with the outside.

When your love for him gradually faded away and was replaced by fear and anger, you realized that you were dealing with a stranger, not your ex boyfriend. He was just a devil in the body of your goofy, loving Yuyu.

Yunho became very angry when you stopped loving him; His anger was increasing day by day and he was starting to explode at you. If you don't hug him, kiss him, or don't do what he wants when he wants, Yunho will grab you by your hair with his big hands and drag you to your room. Usually he would either lock you in your room until you knew your place or punish you with his own methods. In order for him to punish you, you would have to really cross the line and make him so angry.

You were tired of this life. You were tired of all the harm he had done to you. First, he would use all kinds of violence on you, and then at night, to make up for what he had done, he would fuck you as if nothing had happened, as if you were a very happy and passionate couple.

He was using your body completely. He was using you completely for himself, by loving you, by punishing you, by kissing you, by fucking you. Your body was completely in his hands.

Yunho had now become someone who gets angry easily; your Yuyu never got angry, you never saw him angry. But right now, the devil in disguise wrapped his big and strong hands around your neck and dragged you towards your room, while you scratched his arms with your nails and made them bleed to get rid of his grip.

You didn't remember how much he punished you, but when you come to yourself, you were lying on the floor of your room, with your bloody body.

You had to do something now. If you didn't stop him, he would take over your mind as well as your body, and then your soul, turning you into a completely soulless and unthinking doll; a doll that he used only to satisfy his own pleasures...

You pulled yourself to your feet, using your arms as support. Your body was so feeble from all the things he had done to you, so you stumbled when you stood up. You didn't have a plan, you just wanted to get out of here. Maybe he wouldn't want to see you because he was so angry with you today and he would let you go?

But you fell to the ground before you could walk very far. Since you couldn't feel your legs very much anymore, it didn't hurt much when you fell on your knee. You couldn't even walk, where were you planning on going?

You tried so hard not to burst into tears as you crawled towards the door. If he didn't lock the door, which he usually did, that was a message from the universe to you to run away and never come back no matter what.

The door wasn’t locked. Yunho was probably testing you, but you didn’t care. The door opened with a chilling creak, and the cold air from the hallway hit your blood-soaked satin dress, making you shiver. You didn’t know where the hell Yunho was, he was nowhere to be seen. With one last ounce of strength, you stood up and started walking down the hallway. If Yunho saw you here, he would definitely fuck you right there, he wouldn’t care how much you were hurting after the last session.

You didn't want to think about anything but getting out of this hell right now. Just before you reached the front door, you were frozen in place by the arms wrapping around your waist. You felt your heart begin to race uncontrollably. All your muscles were tense, and every part of you that was injured was aching because of the tenseness.

"Why do you have to be so difficult? All you had to do was sit in your room like a good whore and wait for me to fuck you." His hands on your waist slowly moved down to your hips and then to your thighs. "Why you making things difficult when we can be happy together?" He buried his face in your hair, which was getting sweaty from stress, and kissed your neck. "How can you be so ungrateful after all the good things I've done for you?" When he squeezed your inner thigh, every tight muscle of your thigh from last night ached in pain. "Why don't you save your life by being an obedient puppy? All you have to do is surrender yourself to me, and I will give you heaven." When you heard the familiar clicking sound, your brain sent warning signals throughout your body.

The sound of the handcuffs being opened when he's really angry at you and your punishment is going to be very harsh.

You didn't know how you escaped, but you freed yourself from his grip and ran to the nearest room, the kitchen. He had the handcuffs on his right hand and was approaching you. If he put it on you, you would never have a chance to escape from here again.

You had to protect yourself. You should have stopped him from coming towards you. Without thinking, you grabbed a knife from the knife holder next to you and pointed it at him. "Don't come any closer! Or I'll stab you!" Judging by your shaky hands holding the knife awkwardly, it would be impossible for you to stab someone as tall and bulky as him before he stopped you, but you were trying your luck anyway. You would never hurt him; you both knew that. No matter how much he hurt you, you couldn’t stab him, let alone kill him. This meant that you would live with this devil until the day he was done with you, being subjected to his tortures. If you couldn't kill him, why not kill yourself? At least you wouldn't suffer any more.

He giggled at you. "If you hold the knife like that, no one will take you seriously. Let me show you how to hold it-" As he approached you with a smile, he suddenly froze in place and his eyes widened. You turned the knife towards you and placed it against your neck. He was absolutely certain that you wouldn't kill him, but he wasn't at all certain that you wouldn't kill yourself.

You were holding the knife so confident and firmly against your neck that small cuts had formed on your neck and were beginning to bleed. "Am I holding it correctly now?" Yunho didn't know what to do. If he got close to you, you could cut your neck. If he just stood there, again you could. In order not to scare you any further, he put the handcuffs back in his pocket and raised his hands. "I'm not going to hurt you. Just put the knife down." You shook your head. "You're not thinking clearly. Put the knife down and let's sit down and talk. I promise I'll forget about this behavior." Liar. You were sure that the moment you put the knife down he would jump on you. "Let me go. You'll just kill me sooner or later! At least I won't have to suffer any more!" "What are you talking about? I will never kill you! You're overreacting right now. Put down the knife. Don't make me repeat myself."

His usual threat. 'Don't make me repeat myself.' You hated the person he had become. You closed your eyes and thought about your old Yuyu. Your cute, shy lover... If you pressed the knife harder would you see him? Since he was "dead", you would probably meet him again, since you would be dead too. You had a small smile on your face and started pressing the knife to your neck. The warm thick liquid began to flow down your neck towards your collarbone, warming you up in contrast to the coldness of the air.

But unfortunately, this peace didn’t last long when Yunho jumped on you and pulled the knife from your neck, taking it in his hand. "You bitch! You think you can kill yourself?! The only one who can kill you here is me!" He was shaking you and yelling. You flinched as if you had woken up from shock. You tried to get away from him, but he grabbed you by your newly cut neck and held you in place. "No, I won't give you what you want. You won't die right away, do you understand!?" He looked so scary. He was so big and you were so tiny under him. You were so scared of him.

"But if you like the knife so much, then give it a taste." He gave you a smile that was as terrifying as you'd ever seen before, before plunging the knife into your leg.

#ateez #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #ateez reactions #ateez scenarios #ateez x you #ateez x y/n #ateez smut #ateez yandere #yandere ateez #yandere yunho #jeong yunho smut #jeong yunho x reader #jeong yunho #yunho x you #yunho x reader #yandere kpop #kpop x reader #kpop imagines

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wynnyfryd · 10 months

Text

Trailer park Steve AU part 38

part 1 | part 37 | ao3

"Sure thing."

"Can you go say hey to everyone, too? Please?" he adds. "I need a second."

He expects Eddie to tease him for being bossy, but Eddie just winks and says, "Do you one better than that, sugar," smiling playfully with his tongue out like a dog before he bounds outside and tackles one of the kids into a pile of snow.

Steve uses the distraction to clean himself up; towel the sweat from his face and hair and clean the blood off of his knuckles, and when he steps outside a moment later Eddie's shouting "no wedgies no wedgies!!" while Dustin tries to shove a snowball down the back of his pants.

"Steve!" Eddie calls out when he spots him. "Steve, help!"

"No, help me!" Dustin counters with a strained grunt as Eddie grapples him into a chokehold. Mike yells "Get him, Eddie!" and Lucas rolls his eyes and mutters, "This is what we get for not bringing any girls."

The trip is pure chaos right from the jump, which Steve anticipated the second he suggested packing five dudes into a van for a run to the hardware store (he had to sit through ten minutes of Mike, Dustin, and Lucas arguing over everything from girls to books to whether The Cure objectively sucks or not until Eddie finally hollered "shut the fuck up!" and drowned them all out with 'real music'), but it feels good to be in charge. To have a project to manage, even if he's the reason there's a project in the first place.

He bosses the boys around the aisles when they get to the store, gathering up supplies — tarps and tools and vinyl, a few sheets of plywood to repair the damaged subfloor, disinfectant spray and gloves; safety shit, too, just in case they need it — and it reminds him of that day in the junkyard. Hey, dickheads! How come the only one helping me out is this random girl?

"You talk to Max lately?" he asks Lucas when they get a minute alone.

Lucas dips his head and kicks at the wheel of their shopping cart, looking so much like a kid, even though he's almost taller than Steve now. "No," he says with a frustrated sigh. "I don't— it's like she's there, but she's not there. You know? I don't know how to reach her."

"Mm." Steve gets that. Felt it just this morning. He claps a hand to Lucas' shoulder. "Just give her time," he suggests, bending to grab a sanding block off a shelf and drop it in the cart.

In his periphery, he sees Eddie skipping at the far end of the aisle while Mike and Dustin chase after him. "Is she still with Eddie's friend?"

Lucas glares at the back of Eddie's head at Steve's reminder, voice sullen when he answers, "Shit, man. I don't know."

"Is he being cool to you?"

"Who, Gareth?"

"No, Eddie," Steve clarifies, remembering Erica's threat-request to look out for her brother.

"Oh." Lucas scratches the back of his neck. "Yeah, I guess. I mean, he treats basketball like it's the Dark Side, but-"

He breaks off with a little laugh, and Steve laughs with him. "Yeah. He's kind of dramatic. I'll talk to him about it."

"You will?"

"Sure. Jock solidarity and all that." He gives Lucas a fist bump, and Lucas gives him a long, thoughtful look, chewing his lip.

"So you guys are, like... friends now?"

Steve's heart gives an unhelpful flutter at the question. They are like friends now, he guesses, if friends kiss each other with tongue.

He clears his throat at that thought and looks away to hide his blush; sees Eddie using a cut of PVC pipe as a sword, lunging at Mike in a fencer's pose and shouting 'en garde!' "...Unfortunately, yeah."

—

part 39

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added tomorrow please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

#trailer park steve au #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #lucas sinclair #dustin henderson #mike wheeler #my writing #my fic

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memento-rory · 3 months

Note

If possible may you please do more Schlatt x Ted’s partner!reader?

i would be delighted to :) find the first part here.

schlatt tries to be normal with you. he tries so fuckin’ hard, because he never wants you to look at him the way you did when you asked if he hated you ever again. he had never realized how his actions would impact you, only worried about how he’d be impacted.

so, he tries. he’s not very good at it — he’s either too quiet, just barely acknowledging the things you say to him, or too chatty, overcompensating for how not normal he’s being. it’s a fuckin’ nightmare, honestly, but he does it.

it’s a few more agonizing months before ted’s talk of you dies down. he’s mentioning you less and less, and you’re not joining him for events or meetups or parties as often. when asked, ted just says you’re busy, but schlatt can tell he’s lying. he’s always been good at reading ted.

you find yourself talking to schlatt a lot more often now that your relationship with ted circles the drain. (the two of you are trying to make it work, but you’re kidding yourselves.) schlatt’s much more receptive than a few months ago. he sends you messages out of the blue, completely unprompted, and it’s rare that you’re texting him first anymore. saw this and thought of you. hey, have you ever seen this movie? i’m bored, wanna hop on minecraft or somethin’?

about two weeks later, you and ted call it quits. it was inevitable, really. there’s no bad blood, the two of you splitting pretty amicably, promising to remain friends through tears. of course it hurts — you loved ted, truly. he was a good boyfriend (until he wasn’t, you suppose) and it’s a big change. you have to find somewhere else to live, and while ted says you’re free to stay at his place until you find something, it feels a little weird while the breakup is still fresh, and you have no idea how long it will take before you find another place.

that night, schlatt hits you up to play something with him, but you politely decline, saying you’re just not feeling up for it tonight. your phone rings just moments later.

“you okay?” schlatt’s voice comes through your phone speaker.

“yeah, i’m good,” you tell him, though the crack in your voice betrays you. realizing there’s no use pretending, you just let it all come out, trying to stay quiet so ted doesn’t hear you from the other room. you tell schlatt about the breakup and how you need to find somewhere else to be asap.

“you can come stay with me.” schlatt suggests, before he can stop it. in truth, he knows it’s so fucking selfish and more for his own benefit than yours, and it makes him feel a little sick. here you are hurting, and all he can think is, here’s my chance.

“really?” you ask, biting your lip in contemplation. sure, he lives in new york, but you work from home anyway, so it’s not like it would matter if you just up and left LA. it could be a good change of scenery.

schlatt should say no. he should say, “no, (y/n), i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have offered.” but he knows he can’t. it was shitty to offer in the first place, but it would be even shittier to go back on his offer.

“yeah,” schlatt responds instead, silently cursing himself, “could be fun. and we could find ya somethin’ up here, some cute lil apartment or somethin’.”

“okay.” you nod slowly, still weighing the option. it’s so spontaneous, something you’d usually give a little more thought, but as you hear ted padding around the place you used to call home, you decide to take schlatt up on his offer. “okay, yeah. when do you want me?”

now. forever. schlatt finds himself thinking. “how fast can you get packed?”

“i’m already halfway done.” you tell him. you’ve been slowly getting your stuff together for the last few hours.

“how long d’ya think it’ll take you to finish?”

“maybe a day, maybe less.”

“i’ll hire some movers to come get your stuff in two days and book ya a flight.”

“schlatt, no. i can move my own stuff. i’ll just rent a u-haul.”

“just lemme do somethin’ nice for ya, would ya, angel?” the pet name falls from his lips so fast that he doesn’t even register he’s said it. you feel your face heat up.

you’re already letting me live with you, you want to say, but you know there’s no arguing with him.

“fine,” you concede, “i’ll see you in a few days.”

“great.”

“…thanks, schlatt. this really means a lot to me, you know.”

“just trynna help out a friend.” schlatt responds.

helping out a friend is the farthest thing from what he’s doing, but maybe if he says it enough, he’ll believe it.

#rory answers #anon #jschlatt x reader #schlatt x reader

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logansargeantsbabymom · 4 months

Note

helloooo my love🎀

i just wanna let you know you're my favourite logan writer and your writing is so good. can't wait for more of 'too good to say goodbye'!!! mwah

Thank You so much, you're too kind to me! You don't know how much this means to me! So with that being said here is

Too Good To Say Goodbye part 6

part 1 I part 2 I part 3 I part 4 I part 5 I part 6 I part 7 I part 8 I part 9 I part 10

F1 Masterlist

Follow my instagram account (THATS STRICTLY FOR THIS BLOG) for updates on when i post and fun stuff like that!

instagram

I can't be pregnant right? I mean I had my daughter almost 5 months ago, I’m not ready to be pregnant again.

When Lando brought me back some water, I had him grab me a pair of comfortable clothes because I wanted to “take a shower”. The second Lando closed the door of the bathroom I quickly grabbed the box from the cupboard and pulled out a test.

I let out a shaky breath after I peed on the stick and waited for the results. I just had to wait three minutes for an answer. I heard footsteps coming to the bathroom and I knew I had to hide the test, I just didn’t have anywhere to hide it. I quickly shoved the the test to the back of the cupboard before the door swung open.

“Hey, I couldn’t find the PJs that you like so I brought you one of my shirts and a random pair of your Mickey Mouse shorts. Is that fine?” Lando looked so worried that I randomly got sick.

“Perfect. Thank you” I said as he placed my clothes on the bathroom sink

“Do you want me to help you shower? I know how you get when you’re sick and I don’t want you passing out in the bath again.” It’s true, when I get sick and shower my blood pressure plummets and I go down fast.

“I’m okay, I’ll call out if my blood pressure drops. I promise.” with a quick kiss to my forehead Lando left.

That means only one thing now. Time’s up and I can check the results on the test. I quickly turned on the shower to make it seem like I was about to step in before I bent down to grab the test from the back of the cupboard.

I held the test in my shaky hands, whatever this result was is gonna change my life forever. Either I’m pregnant again but with Lando’s baby this time and I get to have that joy of being pregnant again and giving Lando his first born or I’m not and I want to get pregnant by Lando. I flipped the test over and let out a shaky breath while I read the result.

positive

Holy shit, I’m fucking pregnant again. So many questions have been floating around in my mind like how am I gonna tell Lando, when am I gonna tell Lando, Is he gonna be happy, does he want to be a dad, and more importantly how is Logan going to react? No, stop why are you thinking about Logan? He has no say in any of this. Stop having such a soft spot for him.

I placed the test down on top my clothes while I stepped in the shower. I have to process all this new information before I tell Lando. Maybe I should wait until I know this pregnancy is going to stick. Last thing I want is a Theo 2.0, I don’t want to be happy about this pregnancy and find out the gender of the baby only to lose it in the end.

A soft knock of the bathroom door pulled me out of my thoughts before I heard the door creak open a little and my head shot to look out of the shower curtain to make sure that the pregnancy test is out of eyeshot of Lando in case he poked his head in. Thank god he just opened it enough for me to hear him

“Baby? Are you okay, it’s been 45 minutes?” 45 minutes?! No. I haven’t been that deep in thought, have I?

“Oh sorry, lost track of time. I’m fine, coming out now.” I yelled, trying not to sound nervous. Lando and I have talked about having a kid together but we didn’t think it would happen this fast I mean yeah we fucked raw all the time but Lando almost always pulled out. Only 4 times he hasn’t and that was all in one night, 3 weeks ago. There was no way I’m 3 weeks pregnant, I can’t be.

I mean the test says I am but false positives are a thing. I can't believe it until a doctor confirms it or a bump grows if I wait it out. Having Yelena was such a joy, it still is. That little 5 month girl brings so much joy into my world and she doesn't even know it. She's a little carbon copy of Logan and I love that. I love it because I love Logan. Now imagine a little carbon copy of Lando running around the house? Aww, just makes my heart melt thinking about it. I have so much love in my heart for Lando because I know deep down, he is who I want to spend the rest of my life with. Lando is the one I want to grow old with, I want to share a last name with him, a family, a life. I want to do and have it all and I want it all with Lando.

I tried to sneak out of the bathroom and have it go unnoticed by the man who's baby is snug as a bug in a rug in my uterus but to no avail.

"Babe! You had me worried, I thought you went down for the count. I was about to call 911" Lando said as he jogged to where I stood as he pressed both his hands on either side of my face while moving it around inspecting every inch of my face for a scratch tor bruise.

"Lando.." I whispered. Doubt started to seep in as I opened my mouth

"Babe?" Lando's voice barely audible, scared that if he spoke any louder he'd hear words that he never want to hear.

"We need to talk" I didn't make eye contact which only sent him more into the 'we're breaking up' frenzy

"No, please" I could see the tears welling up in his eyes

"No! It's not bad," I started as a faint chuckle leaves my lips "At least I don't think it's bad"

The look in Lando's face told me that he didn't find my little joke funny, he wanted to know what I had on my mind before he would end up being 100% again.

I attempted to grab Lando's hand to guide him to the bed but he wouldn't budge. Exhaling a sigh I just told him as it was

"I'm pregnant" I let his hand go as I searched his face for any type of reaction. I needed something whether it was anger, joy, fear, disgust, I needed SOMETHING. Instead, I was met with a blank and unreadable expression.

As the seconds turned into minutes I started to regret my decision of telling him. I started to doubt whether Lando was ready to be a dad, I mean he takes care of Yelena like she’s his own but to actually have a kid with your own DNA is way different. You have to make decisions for the well being of your child together whereas Lando just asked me if he was able to do whatever with Yelena because she’s my daughter.

“You’re preg- what?” Lando shook his head as if he was trying to refocus his eyes after he spaced out.

There was not many things that could leave Lando speechless and this was one of the many FEW things that did.

“I am pregnant. I’m sorry, I know that we discussed maybe having kids in the future but I didn’t think it was gonna happen this fast. I don’t know if you want a kid and I really don’t want to do half this pregnancy alone again like how it was when I was pregnant with Yelena and I really, REALLY don’t want to have to go through that again but if that’s what you want I will leave and you’ll never have to see me again. Wait that’s actually a lie because I work for you, well technically McLar-” Lando cut me off by smashing his lips to mine and lifting me off the group and spinning us. When he pulled away he had the biggest grin plastered on his face.

“I’m gonna be a dad?! You’re the best thing to ever happen to me, I love you so much. So so so much. Can I kiss the baby?” he gestured to my tummy

“Honey, the baby is nothing but a clump of cells right now” I light chuckle left my lips as I lifted my hands to wipe a few stray tears away from my face that I didn’t know had fallen.

My rebuttal wasn’t enough for Lando though, because he bent down, lifted my shirt just above my tummy and started to whisper sweet nothings to it.

"Hi baby, I'm your dad. You can't hear me but I already love you so much, more than you'll ever comprehend when you're born. I want you to know that I'll protect you forever and I will spoil you rotten, even if your mommy says no. Only with certain things though, she'll kill me.” This ended up going on for about an hour, so much so that while Lando was talking to our soon to be baby he’d actually picked me up and gently placed me on our bed so I didn’t have to stand while he kept talking.

My heart was filled with so much joy and happiness and I wanted to relish in this moment forever. I’d closed my eyes 10 minutes after Lando placed me on the bed and I had my hand in his hair “You’re gonna have the best Aunts and Uncles in the whole world. You’re gonna love your sister, she’s amazing. She’s gonna love you so much, your brother also loves you so much. You’re probably with him right now having a good time. Tell him his mommy and daddy miss him so much.” Lando assumed I was asleep when he said what he said and I tried so hard not to cry.

In that moment, Lando talked about Logan with the most respect than he’d had since before the fight we had.

I think seeing Lando slowly start to forgive Logan has really helped me in my healing process of becoming a new mom and also co-parenting. I would be lying if I said life wasn’t hard right now because it is. It’s terrible right now and I would do anything to change the way I’m feeling but living for Yelena makes all this pain and stress worth it.

I would go through all this pain over and over again even if it gets worse just to give my baby a good life. I would do anything for her and her wellbeing and I know Lando would do the same for our kid.

“My little baby, I would do anything for you. Even if it meant giving up racing, I would do it all for you. I’m so excited to meet you, I already love you so much. You make me want to be a better version of myself and trust me, you’re gonna be the new favorite on the paddock, well, you and Yelena. You both would top Roscoe and Leo” Lando’s hand went to rest on my tummy. Even though he knew he would just be touching fat Lando didn’t want to feel like he was gonna miss any part of this pregnancy. He’d been there for the better half of my pregnancy with Yelena and he’d done any and everything he could’ve to make me feel better. I felt safe with Lando.

————

It had been 3 months since I found out I was pregnant, which means I was just starting my second trimester and I’d woken up so drained and nauseous and I had to quickly rush to the bathroom or Lando would be unfortunately the one who had to clean the mess. I slowly made my way out of the bed making sure to take deep slow breaths and tried to distract myself so I wouldn't puke until I got to the toilet but that didn't last long.

"Baby? Is Yelena up?" The thought of responding to Lando was enough to make me want to hurl so I had to run to the bathroom and I just barely made it. After spilling my all my guts into the toilet, I looked over to see Lando holding Yelena, bouncing her up and down while pacing back and forth in our room.

"Did I wake her?" I sounded defeated and that's because I was. I'm in my 2nd trimester of this pregnancy and I'm still getting nauseous in the mornings. My first two pregnancies weren't like how this one is shaping out to be and I can't help but have a bad feeling about it.

"Do you want to get checked out? I read about somethings that could be wrong and I just want make sure the baby is okay, I mean I care about you so much more but I want both of you to be alright." Lando has been my rock throughout this pregnancy, always getting me what I crave even if he knows I won't be able to keep it down, always running hot baths for me, letting me occasionally drive his McLaren.

"Yes please, I don't know how much more of this I can take." I whimpered, it sounded pathetic but I couldn't muster up any energy to sound okay.

No one on the grid or any of the WAGS new I was pregnant. I learned my lesson last time when I told the whole world about my pregnancy with Leo and then had to very publicly grieve with Logan.

"I'll call Logan to take Yelena for the day. I'll tell him you got some type of food poisoning and I have to take you to the hospital." All I could do was muster up a little energy to nod slightly.

Lando had a sad look in his eyes. He looked like he regretted putting his girlfriend through this much pain and agony. Lando was one to always want to take her pain away but right now and until I gave birth, he couldn't.

ten minutes later Lando walked back in the bathroom, where I still laid by the toilet, with Yelena. She looked all cute dressed up in her little Williams outfit that she was gifted from James when I told the world via instagram.

"Logan's 5 minutes out, I'll put her in her play pen and then I'll be back to help you get up and dressed, okay?" Lando took my silence as an agreement and he quickly placed Yelena in the makeshift playpen in her nursery before jogging back to me.

“Okay, cmon up you go.” Lando said as he placed both his arms under mine and clasped his hands together to pull me up “good girl, okay let’s go” we started walking to our room “I’m gonna sit you on the edge of the bed and grab you some comfy clothes okay?” Lando said as he placed me at the end of the bed.

I watched as Lando went to our walk in closet and grabbed me a pair of grey sweatpants and a rhea ripely t-shirt and my favorite pair of socks and crocs.

“Okay Honey, lift your arms. Good girl, okay now I need to to stand up so I can take your shorts off, good good. Thank you honey, okay lift one leg, good. Now the other, amazing. I know you’re exhausted but you’re doing so good for me.” after a few more minutes of him helping me get dressed we heard the doorbell ring.

“COMING!!” Lando screamed before he turned his attention back to me

“Okay honey, Logan’s here so I’m just gonna carry you to the sofa. Okay, up you go.” Lando carried me bridal style to the living room before he opened the door and let Logan come in.

I saw them whisper indistinctively while simultaneously looking in my direction. Logan had a look of pity on his face and I very rarely got that reaction out of him.

“Hi babygirl, I’ve missed you so much!” Logan said as he picked up Yelena and started peppering her with kisses. Logan made his way towards the door but he stopped and turned around and looked at me

“I’m sorry you’re sick. I hope the doctors can help you feel better, Yelena needs her mom to be 100% by the time she leaves her daddy’s house” Logan tried to make a small joke just to take my mind off being sick and part of it worked. A small smile creeped on my face as Logan bid his farewells and took our daughter and left.

Lando pre started the car before he made his way back over to me.

“Okay, up we go again. Good, you’re doing so well for me. We’re almost to the car, just a few more steps,” he unlocked the car and opened the passenger door “In we go, you’re doing so good for me. I love you so much” Lando put my seatbelt on for me before closing the door and jogging to the drivers side and starting driving to the hospital.

————

I’d gotten admitted into the hospital about 30 minutes ago and the doctors had hooked me to an IV for fluids and electrolytes, since I couldn’t keep anything down and I was severely dehydrated while they ran several tests to determine what was wrong with me.

After being poked and prodded and waiting for results for what felt like forever, the doctor and his follow student finally came back with some results.

“Hello Ms L/N, as you know we took several tests and at first we couldn’t figure out what was wrong with you but after the most recent test we ran, we found out that you in fact have developed hyperemesis gravidarum, It’s where you have extreme morning sickness during just about all stages of your pregnancy, there is one way to help with that.” The doctor had explained what my condition was

“Well, how can you help my wife? She’s suffering and she’s severely dehydrated, this obviously isn’t good for her or the baby.” Lando is always worried about my health but right now he was 100x more protective of me, probably because I’m carrying precious cargo.

“Well, I can start her right now on this pump that’ll inject her with Zofran which is basically anti-nausea medicine so you’ll be able to eat and drink without throwing it up” The doctor went on to explain the pros and cons of this little device but I was too out of it to listen. The IV that was injecting me with fluids was helping me for sure though, I felt like I had a lot more energy now than I had when I first got admitted.

“Thank you so much Doc. We really appreciate everything you did for us. Oh thank you ms, we really appreciate it” Lando said to the nice student doctor who had just wheeled a wheelchair into the room.

“You’re welcome. Ms L/N, I'm gonna help you up okay, are you okay with me putting my hands here to help you?" The doctors assistant, Kelani asked.

"Yes, that's fine. Thank you" My voice hoarse from vomiting non-stop for just about 4 months on end.

--------

When we got back home, I felt 30x better. I hadn't felt this good since 2 months after I had Yelena. I felt like myself again and boy was I hungry.

"Hey babe?" I whispered, unsure if Lando was awake seeing as when we got home immediately went to our room to put on a movie and take a nap, I had one hand combing through his curls while my eyes were laser focused on the movie currently playing on the screen. We had put on Captain America: The First Avenger before we took a nap and when I woke up, I saw that we were just about half way through Captain America: The Winter Soldier (my personal favorite movie)

"Yes my love? Are you okay? Are you gonna be sick?" Lando's head immediately shot up assuming the worst

"Quite the opposite actually. I'm starving" I watched as Lando's face contorted in confusion. Ever since I found out I was pregnant I knew it was going to be hard because the first trimester is always tough with all the nausea and not wanting to eat but this pregnancy I didn't want to even look at food because I wanted to vomit. I felt like there was no point in eating or drinking anything if I wasn't going to be able to keep it down and there were times where Lando had to force me to eat.

"Oh! Yes, I'll grab you anything you want. What are you and baby in the mood for? I mean it when I said I'll go anywhere"

"Baby is really in the mood for Wingstop, I don't know, baby's saying something about Mango Habanero wings and Voodoo fries" I chuckle

"Okay, I'll be right back" Lando said as he leaped from the bed and was about to run out of the room

"Wait!" That stopped Lando dead in his tracks "I want to come with"

Lando was quickly right back at my side as he was when he left and he helped me get up from the bed and then we made our way to the front door.

Opening it, we were met with a surprise. Logan was standing there with Yelena in his arms.

"Hey sorry, I ran out of milk for Yelena do you have any frozen breast milk?" Logan asked as he stared at the floor, almost as if he was ashamed to ask his Ex-Girlfriend for food for his baby.

"Oh yeah, let me grab you some. Are you gonna take her this weekend since it's Thursday and this is technically 'your weekend'?" Me and Logan have 'scheduled weekends' that we're supposed to have Yelena ordered by the courts but since we technically work together and we're on good terms, we take turns alternating each week. I started to make my way to the kitchen before stopping dead I my tracks at what Logan said next.

"Yeah, I just wanted to come grab some milk because I know we discussed rarely using formula when you were pregnant with Theo."

Hearing his name always stings, no matter how much time passes.

"Um, yeah. Well- uh here's the milk." I said as I handed Logan a little thermal bag of 10 frozen bags of frozen breast milk.

"Thank you. Sorry to bother you again, say 'bye' to mommy Yelena" Logan poked her tummy with one finger and she lifted her little arm and waved it in my direction.

All I kept thinking was man, I can't wait to relive all these 'first' moments with this baby.

Lando and I waited about 15 minutes to leave after Logan did. We both made our way to the car in a quiet but comfortable silence.

The Wingstop was about 10 minutes away which only meant one thing "All Too Well (Taylors Version) (10 minute version)"

By the time the song ended we'd already placed the order online and just had to wait until the pickup time to go in.

I think now that this Zofran is kicking in, I'm just so excited to eat.

"C'mon babe, It says it's ready." I sounded more excited than usual and rightfully so; I can (hopefully) actually eat.

We had gone inside hand in hand, Lando went to grab the food while I was getting our drinks. All was going well but I should've known that I couldn't keep my peace and pregnancy a secret for long and this proved it.

In a matter of minutes after grabbing the food, both of our phones were being bombarded with a lot of incoming texts and calls, one of them caught my eye though

Lily: Check your instagram now!

What? I opened instagram scared and when I saw the first thing on my feed I let out the biggest sigh and looked over at Lando who was already looking at me with a deflated look on his face.

"So much for telling them on our own terms eh?"

-----

HII!! I'M TRYING SO HARD TO GET THESE CHAPTERS OUT AS FAST AS POSSIBLE BUT I WANT TO MAKE THEM GOOD!

GENDER REVEAL IN THE NEXT CHAPTER I PROMISE 🥰🥰🎀🎀

taglist:

@luckyladycreator2 @itsmiamalfoy @jeffs77 @ilivbullyingjeongin @forevercaffeinated-lee @daemyratwst @gulphulp @callsignwidow @f1wintermoon13 @teenwolf01 @victoriassecret101 @hiireadstuff @formulaal @kazza72584 @zabwlky1999 @dark-night-sky-99 @rougekiki @xoscar03 @jess-wither @bountychanti@dhanihamidi @Ggasly.p @tellybearryyyy

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alovesongtheywrote · 1 year

Text

Cranberry Juice | Eddie Munson x Reader

♥ Summary: Getting kidnapped from a grocery store wasn't exactly on your to-do list, but neither was having sex with your blood-drunk vampire boyfriend on the dead bodies of your captors, so... [Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader]

♥ Warnings: 18+, minors and ageless blogs dni. Violence, gore, kidnapping, gun related violence & violence against women, drinking blood, drinking blood in a sexual nature, biting, minor character death, derogatory terms used for the reader by someone other than eddie, unprotected sex, p in v sex, breeding kink, very brief dubcon, monster fucking, angst, fluff.

♥ A/N: holy fuck, i haven't written a fem/afab reader in years. i've also never written smut before, so this is new.

♥ Word count: 15945

♥♥♥

You would think that in the two years following the murder of Chrissy Cunningham and the supposed death of Eddie Munson, Hawkins, Indiana would have calmed down a little bit. You would at least assume that they would put down their pitchforks and torches and give Eddie’s friends and loved ones some room to breathe- after all, Eddie’s name had been cleared of any and all crimes, and he was, as far as they knew, literally dead.

But nope!

Nope! No! No way! You still couldn’t leave your house without receiving a thousand angry glares from a thousand angry hicks. Really, you didn’t feel comfortable leaving the house alone anymore, and no one could blame you for that. Between the threats you’d received, the shit you’d seen, and the way the town banded together to hunt down your boyfriend in 1986, you were more than justified in feeling unsafe.

This drove Eddie up the fucking wall.

You were his partner, the love of his undead life, and he couldn’t protect you from the same town that initially drove him into hiding- the town that he had died saving. He couldn’t protect Wayne, either, or the Hellfire Club kids for that matter. He couldn’t shield any of you, or stick by your side throughout the day- the wings and claws that Vecna had so graciously given him upon his return to the living made hiding a little more than necessary. And hey, if those new features weren’t bad enough on their own, Hawkins still wanted Eddie’s head on a pike. If any Hawkins citizen saw him like this, in a new and monstrous form, that would be more than enough of an excuse to murder him then and there.

In short, Eddie was helpless. His new features, the claws and fangs which were meant to maim and kill were useless when it came to defending his loved ones. He was entirely unable to take care of the people he loved most, and he hated it.

Anger and resentment festered inside of him. He worried about you whenever you left the house. Even when you were safe with him, a dark corner of his mind still spiraled through all the horrible possibilities. He wanted to keep you safe, to keep you unharmed and alive, and the idea that he wouldn’t be able to do that gave him a sense of dread like no other.

And then his fears were realized.

It started out as a simple shopping trip. You needed to pick up a few things, so you went out to get them. That’s how most people go about grocery shopping. It was normal. Painfully average considering everything else going on in your life, and honestly, you kind of liked that.

You didn’t go out alone. Max also needed to pick up a few things, so you brought her with you. You were smart about it. You both kept your guards up and your keys between your fingers. You were safe. Or you were until you fell for the faux sense of safety provided by the fluorescent lights and the bland music playing overhead- a sense of safety that would be brutally fucking shattered.

Before that, though, you were just looking at juice.

The grocery store shelves in front of you were filled with bottles and bottles of beverages. For a moment, you pondered just how many forms of cranberry juice a company could make. The answer was a lot, apparently.

At your side, Max was fidgeting, impatiently tapping her cane against the ground. You couldn’t blame her, you’d been staring at juice for like, five minutes.

“Hey,” her voice was quiet, “If it’s cool with you, I’m gonna go grab the-”

“Yeah, yeah,” you snapped out of your juice-induced haze, “Go for it, I’ll be here.”

Letting her go was your first mistake.

She nodded at you and left the aisle, ignoring the pointed glare served to her by a middle-aged woman who occupied the aisle with you. As soon as Max was gone, the woman’s glare found its true target. The killer’s girlfriend. The Munson boy’s accomplice. You.

Unfortunately for the woman, your attention was already back on the juice.

Apple. Blackberry. Blueberry. Cranberry. Cran-apple. Cran-pineapple. Cran-mango. Cran-cherry. Cran-pomegranate. There really were a lot of cranberry juices. In all seriousness, you didn’t actually care about juice that much. It was just a nice distraction from the oncoming-

“Devil’s whore.”

Oh, yep, there it was.

You said nothing as the woman swore at you. You tuned out her whispered rant about your audacity- the nerve you had to go out in public after dating that ‘child-murdering monster.’ You were used to this treatment. Not everyone in Hawkins was this intense. Some were worse, and some were better, but there were enough angry citizens kicking around for you to grow numb to the insults. As long as they weren’t threatening your life, you couldn’t find it within yourself to care. You just focused on the juice and let her voice fade out.

That was your second mistake.

You tuned back in to the sound of a click- the sound of a gun’s safety turning off. Panic filled your body as you returned to your surroundings. The woman was gone. Where she had vanished to was a mystery, but you didn’t really care. Not when, in her place, a man stood, aiming a gun right at your stomach.

After noting the gun, the first things you noticed were the man’s eyes- ice blue, cold, and cruel. He wore a sweatshirt beneath a white and green varsity jacket, the hood of which he had pulled up and over his blond hair. It was a clear attempt to provide your attacker with some anonymity- of course, that was instantly cancelled out by the print on the sleeve that read, “Hawkins High, ‘84.” He was your age- and when you looked closer, you realized that you knew him.

Kurt Robertson. He had been a classmate of yours, a jock who had treated “freaks” like you and Eddie rather poorly. Clearly, he had continued his athletic pursuits given his muscular frame. Fear pooled in your stomach as you realized that you were no match for him. You wouldn’t have been a match for him even if he didn’t have a gun.

You put your hands up slowly, “Hi, Kurt. It’s nice to see you, too.”

“Don’t even try it, bitch. Come with me,” he grabbed you by your shoulder, pushing the gun into your hip.

“Uh, maybe,” you were playing with fire, “Can I ask what this is about?”

“You know full well what this is about. That freak boyfriend of yours murdered Chrissy- he murdered Jason, too. They were good kids, and there’s no justice for them.”

“So you decided to find some at the grocery store?”

“Shut up, bitch, I’m talking,” he slammed you into the shelving unit. You yelped like a wounded animal. Two bottles of cranberry juice fell to the floor, cracking open as they met the ground. Red spilled across the tiles.

“I’m here, we’re here,” he gestured to the store’s exit. The implication of backup made you shiver, “To do good by Jason. And Chrissy. Munson took their lives- we figured we’d return the favour. Send his slut to hell for him.”

A crooked smile spread across Kurt’s face as he let you go, pulling back from the shelves. He gestured to the glass doors again, “Now, let’s get a move on, shall we?”

“What, you’re taking me to a secondary location? Too afraid to kill me where everyone can see it?” It was an attempt to escape- to convince this guy to let you go. If you could get him to fuck off, you might be able to slip out the backdoor and get to Eddie. If you got to Eddie, you would be safe.

“No,” Kurt pressed the gun back against your stomach, “I just respect this fine establishment too much to get your fucking guts all over it.”

“This is a grocery store.”

“Hey!” your head jerked to the side to see who had spoken. Kurt did the same. Max was standing at the end of the aisle, her groceries in one hand and her cane in the other. She looked angry, murderous- you were proud of her for that glare alone.

“Is there a problem here?” she scowled at the man in front of you. You felt the gun turn. Its side pressed against you, hiding from view in the fabric of your shirt. The barrel was aimed at Max. Shit.

You turned back to face Kurt. He wouldn’t look at you. His eyes were fixed on the red-haired girl- his new target. You had to protect her. She’d probably be pissed at you for having that thought, but you had to protect her.

“There’s no problem,” you said, trying to keep the tremor out of your voice, “I just ran into a former classmate.”

Max looked like she didn’t believe you in the slightest, not that you could blame her for that. Everything from Kurt’s proximity to you to the juice on the floor spelled out trouble. You blinked.

“Actually, do you think you’re good to find your own way home? I think I’m gonna be a while. Just catching up, y’know?”

You blinked again- three short blinks. Three long blinks. Three short ones. You hoped she noticed.

She stared at you for a minute, looking deep into your eyes before nodding. She coughed out a quick, “Yeah, it’s fine. See you around,” and with that, Max was gone. You could only hope that your message had been received.

Kurt waited for a moment. The doors opened and closed. Max had left. Now, it was just you, a man with a gun, and a dozen shoppers who didn’t give a shit about whether or not Eddie Munson’s whore girlfriend got shot in the middle of the juice aisle.

“Kurt,” you tried, watching as he took in your surroundings and fixed his eyes on the door, “Chrissy was a good kid, and I’m so sorry that she’s gone. She didn’t deserve to die, but I promise, Eddie didn’t have anything to do with it-”

He took your arm in a grip that would surely leave bruises- if you lived long enough for them to form. You winced but continued on, trying again to free yourself diplomatically, “And Jason- Jason was extreme, you have to admit, but I’m sorry about him, too. He did some awful things, but he wasn’t evil-”

“Yeah, you’d know a lot about evil, wouldn’t you?” Kurt sneered, pulling you out of the store and into the alleyway behind it. A pickup truck was parked there, waiting for you. Diplomacy had failed. You had to try something else.

The first thing you did was grab the gun and shove it away from you. Kurt’s arm went with it, and he stumbled slightly. You stumbled, too, but your balance came back to you faster than his did. You used your brief advantage to punch your assailant in the face. Your fist connected with his jaw, sending Kurt right to the ground.

You shook out your hand and took a step away, momentarily stunned by your pain and your power. The doors of the pickup began to open. You ran. You were being chased by former jocks. You didn’t get far.

Two arms wrapped around you- one around your chest, and one around your neck. You tilted your head down and bit as hard as you possibly could. The guy screamed, letting go of you just as another pair of arms took hold.

You struggled, turning around in the man’s hold and scratching at his eyes. Someone ran behind you and grabbed at your arms, trying to stop you. You thrashed, hissing and fighting like an angry animal. It was futile.

You were pushed to the ground and a gun was pointed at your face. Kurt glared down at you, his eyes full of hate and his lip gushing blood. The rest of the boys backed off for the moment, standing on the sidelines, watching their leader.

“I should kill you. I should kill you right now you fucking bitch. Send you to hell with your Satanic fucking boyfriend.”

“Then do it,” you barked, adrenaline and impulse speaking for you more than anything else, “Kill me. Unless you’re scared to do it you quivering pussy-”

Kurt slammed the gun into the side of your head. Your vision went black. Your hearing faded to a soft buzz. Blood dripped down the length of your face. You didn’t feel it. You couldn’t feel anything. You didn’t hear the panicked whispers of the jocks, nor the quietly exclaimed, “Holy shit, dude! You fucking killed her!” or the, “She’s not dead, just knocked out, calm the fuck down,” that followed it.

For the moment, you were out of the game.

The boys loaded you into the truck as fast as they could. Their arms held you down, their hold on you tight, as if your unconscious body would spring up and perform a series of badass jiu-jitsu moves on them. That didn’t happen, but they wanted to be prepared.

The pickup sped out of the alleyway, putting the grocery store in its rearview mirror with law-breaking speed. If any of the jocks had bothered to look in said rearview mirror, they would have noticed a red-headed girl using the payphone that stood near the grocery store parking lot.

“Eddie? It’s Max. We have a problem.”

You woke to the stench of rotting wood and decomposing hay. Beneath you, a filthy concrete floor provided a cold embrace. Small stones and various pieces of dirt and debris dug into your soft flesh. In this position, your leg was twisted under your weight at an awkward angle.

Damning the discomfort, you kept still. Every part of you was tense, ready, waiting for some sign or sound of your abductors. Nothing happened. The only sound was the faint scurrying of mice, and the wind blowing through the trees outside. Still hesitant, you opened your eyes.

Most of the structure around you was made of decaying wood. Planks and beams extended across a vast room, stretching up to a high ceiling to meet with crumbling rafters. In some places, red and white paint had been applied to cover up some of the damage, but after years of neglect, the attempted solution had faded and chipped away.

Beams of golden sunlight streamed into the barn through dirty glass windows, and through a large square hole in the wall that had once housed a door. Far above your head, shitty old lights buzzed harshly, illuminating all of the grime that the sun couldn’t reach.

Outside, you could see a weed-filled field running off to a line of trees in the distance. Brambles twisted up near the barn’s entrance. Wildflowers bloomed among nettles and thorns. Vines tangled with the faulty wood of the walls. Even inside the barn, little sprouts popped up through cracks in the concrete. Dandelions puffed near rusted old farming equipment and piles of wasted hay.

This place was oddly beautiful- and clearly abandoned. You were far from help, and from the sound of it, you were completely alone.

Cautiously, you got to your feet. The spot of concrete that had served as your pillow was stained red. You didn’t want to think about that too hard. Putting it out of your mind, you took a few shaky steps, stumbling your way toward the exit. Your bruised body screamed in protest. The sound of your footfalls echoed through the barn. You kept going. It wasn’t like you had much of a choice.

A rusty pitchfork lay against the wall a few feet from the hole in the wall. Under normal circumstances, you wouldn’t have touched the thing for fear of tetanus. Unfortunately, these were not normal circumstances. You armed yourself quickly and continued on, inching forward until the concrete turned to gravel underfoot.

You didn’t make it far.

The sound your movements made alerted your captors to the fact that you were awake. You could hear something drop around the side of the barn- something heavy. Male voices swore loudly. The sound of curses and other exclamations rang through the field, polluting the otherwise beautiful golden hour.

You looked around, desperately searching for a place to hide. You found nothing. There was no hiding place among the weeds and brambles, no space for nature to pull you in and protect you. Your fists tightened around the pitchfork as you realized that this would come down to a fight.

Unfortunately, you were right.

Jocks ran out from behind the barn like ants swarming from a hill. Someone cried out, “Skin only! Don’t kill her yet!”

You vaguely recognized some of the faces before you- the first one was Andy, one of the jocks who had been after Eddie in ‘86. You were able to push him back with your makeshift weapon. The next jock, unfortunately, got much closer. The smell of weed assaulted you, which was quickly followed by an actual assault. A fist met your cheek, and you staggered back, keeping yourself up with the handle of the pitchfork.

The jock didn’t let up. Another punch came your way, but you managed to step back and avoid it. The guy kicked at you weakly, but you easily dodged that, too. In retaliation, you raised the pitchfork and brought it down flat over the guy’s head, knocking him to the ground.

Alas, you were still surrounded. Five more jocks were perfectly ready for a fight, and you were quickly running out of strength and luck. Panic and pain surged through you as another hit connected with your jaw. A fist collided with your stomach. You fell to your knees. Another hand met your face. A ring broke the skin of your lips. Your chosen weapon fell to the ground as blow after blow fell upon you.

You did your best to shelter yourself from the attack. Sharp aches echoed through your limbs with every blow. You tried to separate yourself from the moment, mentally and physically. Curling into a ball on the ground and disassociating didn’t exactly make you feel brave or heroic, but it kept you from taking too much damage. Still, you knew you wouldn’t be able to walk the next day- if you lasted that long.

You barely noticed when the kicks and punches stopped coming. You only snapped out of it fully when someone grabbed your arm. You winced. It was the first reaction they’d gotten from you since the attack began.

“Good,” Kurt grinned, “We didn’t break you.”

You said nothing, biting back several sarcastic remarks. None of them seemed appropriate for the situation. Instead, you slid your tongue over your lip, collecting the blood that pooled there. The next time Kurt opened his mouth to speak, you spit in his face.

“You fucking bitch!” Kurt shrieked, wiping frantically at his face, “Tie her up and get her back in the barn. We’re gonna take this slow, got it? She doesn’t get a quick death.”

Kurt’s lackeys obeyed. Someone bound your wrists together in front of you with duct tape. Rough hands pulled you up from the ground and shoved you back toward the barn. Fear began to take anger’s place as they threw you to the concrete. Blood dripped from your lip to the floor. You watched as it bleed between rocks and cracks below you. How much blood would you lose tonight?

Your heart raced. Breath escaped your battered lungs, but you couldn’t seem to pull any air in. Kurt glared down at you, his form outlined by the light of the setting sun. He looked at you like you were some sort of vermin he had to dispose of. You were sure that in his eyes, that was the truth.

The gun was in his hand.

“Remind me, Andy. How did they find Jason’s girl again?”

“I dunno. They didn’t even let her parents see her face. But Patrick,” Andy knelt down in front of you and grabbed your chin with two fingers, forcing you to look at him, “I got to see Patrick. All of his bones were shattered. Some kind of freak ritual, I guess.”

“Well, we don’t have a freak ritual, but,” Kurt aimed the gun at your leg, “We can always improvise. Answer me this, boys- will a bone break apart if you hit it with a bullet?”

He didn’t wait for an answer.

His finger wrapped around the trigger.

A deafening bang echoed off the barn’s walls.

The sound didn’t come from the gun. Something had crashed into the roof. Dust reigned down on you and the boys as you all looked up, peering at the ceiling. Above you, the old lights began to flicker. The air seemed to chill by a few degrees.

The jocks staggered slightly, their eyes off of you and fixed on the ceiling. They all jumped as the horrendous screech of tearing metal met their ears. Whatever had landed on the roof, it was now clawing its way off. The boys turned to face the door, gripping their weapons and putting up their fists.

An inhuman sound split the calm twilight. You knew it well- that unnerving, predatory growl. You’d heard it a few times before, while running for your life in the Upside Down. While you watched the bats tear your lover apart. You fell back, crawling deeper into the barn.

The lights flicked off.

When they came back on, Eddie was standing in the would-be doorway of the barn, wings spread and fangs bared.

“Is that-?” one of the jocks whispered.

“Munson,” Andy spat. Kurt raised his gun, aiming the barrel at its new target.

He didn’t get the chance to shoot.

Eddie attacked first. He flew forward, seizing the face of the nearest man in his claws. In seconds, the man’s head was nothing more than a bloody mess. Screams filled the air as the first jock fell to the ground. Eddie fell with him, teeth to the man’s neck as blood pooled around them, a blood-red mirror on the concrete floor.

Your attackers stood stunned as Eddie moved on, leaving a body behind. Garnet drops flew to the floor as Eddie tore the next attacker into tiny little pieces. You were almost hypnotized by the way Eddie’s teeth sunk into the guy’s neck, by the way Eddie’s claws tore through his flesh. You could practically hear the sound of blood draining from his veins. When he pulled back, Eddie’s sweet brown eyes were blood red.

He was quick to jump at his next victim, claws and fangs tearing, and slashing, and biting until the man stopped moving.

It was only after that third man’s body was drained that your attackers shook themselves from their reverie and began to retaliate. They’d been aching for a chance to hurt Eddie for years. Now, they had even more of an excuse to kill him- if Eddie was a freak before, then what was he with wings and fangs? To them, he was a monster. He always had been, and he always would be.

They attacked.

It wasn’t too effective, all things considered. A fist flew at Eddie, and in response, he grabbed the offending hand, pulled the man close to him, and put his claws through the man’s chest. You almost felt sick at the sight of it- your boyfriend’s hand, rings and all, coming through the back of a man who beat you minutes before.

You knew Eddie was stronger now, inhumanly so, but you had never seen him use that strength like this- not on a person, at least. You were never afraid of Eddie. You knew that he would rather die than hurt you. But watching what he could do to a human- it filled you with unease, and with some other emotion that you refused to name.

That nameless emotion screamed in your ears as Eddie pulled the man towards him using the hand still in his chest. Eddie brought his fangs to the man’s throat and drank.

The sound of wood splintering filled the air as Eddie blocked a blow from a bat with his claws. He pulled his mouth away from his latest victim’s neck so that he could handle the weapon. He discarded the bat quickly, throwing it clear across the barn. He threw the wielder next, impaling him on some old farming equipment. The dandelions that lived beneath the aged machine were showered in a gush of ruby and wine.

Andy was next. He came at Eddie with a crowbar, and your stomach turned as you realized that all the jocks’ weapons- the bats, the crowbars, and the gun- were meant for you. You winced as Andy managed to land a hit, striking Eddie in the shoulder with enough strength to down a regular man. Fortunately, Eddie was not a regular man. He seized the crowbar and bent it, letting it fall to the floor.

“You- you killed Chrissy! And Patrick, and Jason-!”

Eddie’s eyes bore into Andy’s, speaking untold volumes, simmering with rage. Eddie wiped the blood from his mouth and took a step toward the jock.

“I didn’t kill any of them. I didn’t touch any of them. But you? You made my girl bleed. You’re gonna pay for that.”

In seconds, Andy was on the ground, unconscious or dead, you couldn’t tell. Blood dripped from his nose and mouth. Eddie didn’t bother drinking from him.

For a moment, then, the world fell silent. Eddie’s eyes met yours across the barn, across the sea of blood that he had spilled to protect you. Despite the gore, despite the blood that stained Eddie’s hands and the space under his nails, you couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him. He was here. You were safe now.

But thinking that was your third mistake.

Eddie smiled back, and as he did, another ear-piercing bang echoed through the barn. There was nothing on the roof. There was nothing clawing down to the barn. There was nothing but you and Eddie, Kurt and his gun.

Eddie brought his hand to his side. When he moved it away, his skin was stained with both his blood and the blood of those he’d slain. You screamed. Eddie fell to his knees. Kurt took aim again. He levelled the gun at Eddie’s head.

You leapt at Kurt, using your bound fists as a weapon. You caught the man by surprise, knocking him right to the ground. The gun slid across the floor, away from both of you. Kurt quickly took the advantage, rolling over and pinning your hips to the ground with his. He raised his fist and brought it down on your face, once, then twice.

He didn’t land a third punch. Eddie tackled him off of you, hurling Kurt’s body away from yours. He stayed in front of you, protecting you from Kurt, blocking him from view. He was your shield, keeping you safe and out of the other man’s reach. Eddie snarled like an animal- a predator. It was a warning to Kurt. A message telling him, on no uncertain terms, to stay put.

Kurt did no such thing. He jumped at Eddie. Thick fingers dug deep into the bloody mark on Eddie’s side. He cried out in agony- the sound was something akin to a roar.

“You’re a monster,” Kurt yelled, his hands now covered in the dark cranberry shades of Eddie’s blood, “You’re a FUCKING MONSTER!”

Eddie stumbled backwards, a pained gasp leaving his lips. Your attacker showed no mercy. He advanced, landing a hit on Eddie’s jaw. Eddie fell to his knees.

“I’ve been waiting to do this for a long time,” Kurt reached for the gun. He couldn’t find it.

Another shot rang out.

The sound echoed around the barn.

Blood spilled out from the brand-new bullet wound in Kurt’s chest. He fell to the ground with a dull thud. His blood pooled beneath him, like cranberry juice on the floor of a grocery store. Another blood-red mirror to reflect another lifeless corpse. Another red stain on the concrete.

You stood behind him, gun held tightly in your bound hands.

Silence followed. You could hear Eddie’s panting, and the sound of your heartbeat rushing in your ears. The busted farm lights buzzed overhead. Outside, in the twilight, cicadas sang, serenading you both. Each breath you took was tainted by the iron scent of blood. A chill danced up your skin. The barn was still cold- so fucking cold.

Eddie was struggling. New blood coursed through his system, making every inch of him feel warm. Something beneath his skin started to itch. He wanted to move. He wanted to hunt. He wanted you. He wanted to see you spread out before him, breathless and quivering, completely drunk on his cock. He wanted the taste of your blood to stain his tongue. He could feel an unending pulsation spread through him, driving him forward, almost controlling him in a way. His eyes met yours for just a moment before he forced himself to look away. A growl left his lips.

Across the room, you watched Eddie’s silent crisis, completely unaware of the feral desires harboured behind his big doe eyes. His claws curled at the concrete. You could hear them scratching against it- almost carving through it entirely. His breath seemed to come faster and faster, his chest rapidly rising and falling with every second that passed. You panicked, slightly, taking a small step towards him as your fear for his safety overtook your brain.

You lowered the gun.

“Eddie?” You called out, shattering the quiet with your desperation. Your voice was weak, shaking. You sounded broken.

In an instant, Eddie was on his knees before you. His cold clawed hands ran up your thighs and over your hips, slender fingers checking for hidden injuries, leaving goosebumps in their wake. His movements were gentle, though they edged on desperate, almost animalistic. Your heart twinged with guilt as sparks flew from each place he touched. Despite the situation, you wanted more of this- more of him.

You got just that when his lips joined his hands. He painted each part of you with kisses, brushing his mouth over your knees, your thighs, your hips. He paused over the faint purple of a forming bruise on your leg, his touch hovering over it slightly as passionate concern tore a growl from deep within his chest. You could feel his breath against your skin, hard and fast, nothing short of panicked. His fear for you melted your heart. You whispered his name. It came out as a plea- a blasphemous prayer in a God-fearing town.

“I’m here,” he replied, his voice low, “I’m right here, sweetheart. I’ve got you. Are you alright?”

You nodded, trying to breathe again as you adjusted to the safety of his presence. His hands slid up your body as he leaned in, pressing his lips and then his teeth against the soft skin of your thigh. He bit down, enough to mark you but not enough to make you bleed, “I’m not gonna let anyone hurt you. I promise.”

You whimpered, taking his chin between your fingers, urging him to meet your eyes. His face was pale, and his normally messy hair was wild and slightly damp from sweat. Blood spilled from his bottom lip. You couldn’t tell if it was his. Gently, you brushed the blood away with your thumb. He leaned into your touch, shutting his eyes for a moment, letting himself be there with you. When he opened his eyes again, there was something dark contained in the sweet brown of his irises- a grim determination.

“Baby,” he groaned, raising a hand to your wrists, “I’m gonna untie you, and then-” he paused, taking a deep breath.

“And then?”

“And then I need you to run.”

“What? Why? What’s wrong-?” a fresh wave of panic shot through you at Eddie’s warning.

Eddie paused for a moment. When he spoke again, he almost sounded afraid, “It’s nothing. Nothing’s wrong, sweetheart. I just- I need you to run from me.”

“Eddie, what do you mean?”

He didn’t answer.

“Eddie- Eddie, please-”

He dug his fingers into your thighs, pulling you down and knocking you onto your back. A small cry escaped you. Your heart began to pound in your chest as one of his massive hands curled in the dust beside you. In the time it took to blink, he was leaning over you, caging you in with his body. One of his legs found its home between yours. The way he stared down at you was a new kind of desperate- he looked hungry. Empty. Starving.

“I’ve had too much blood tonight, baby,” he leaned in, nipping at your throat, all teeth, no fangs. He made a point not to bite, “And it did something to me.”

“S-something?”

He slipped his hands into yours, pinning your arms above your head by your still-bound wrists. He pulled back to look at you, ravenous devotion clouding his eyes, “Something, baby. I don’t know what, but I-”

He cut himself off, looking away from your face and shutting his eyes tightly as if he could somehow fend off what he was feeling by pretending to be somewhere else. His grip on you tightened, and you fought off the urge to whimper. Again, you whispered his name.

“I want to taste you,” Eddie sounded horrified at his own words, but he didn’t stop, “I wanna feel you succumb beneath my hands. I want to feel your heart race for me, but I can’t tell whether it’s your blood I want on my tongue, or you. And I- I can’t hurt you, so I need you to run, okay?”

His eyes were still closed. He still refused to look at you. He seemed so deeply ashamed- and yet, heat pooled inside you, flowing down to your core. You drew in a breath, your chest rising sharply. Blood rushed to your cheeks, heating your face until everything beneath your skin felt like fire. Your eyes widened. Your thighs shook slightly. Any sense of self-preservation you had was throwing itself out the window in the wake of the fire that Eddie had unknowingly set inside of you- a fire that you had no intention of putting out.

Eddie’s eyebrows furrowed at your physical response. He leaned down, lips brushing against your ear, “Are you afraid?”

“Afraid? Of you?” your voice shook, and your body trembled beneath him, but a small smile took over your features at the thought, “Never.”

Eddie pressed his forehead against your shoulder. A small grin crossed his features, though there was no joy in it. There was something tragic in every movement he made. A desperate longing drove every action- a want for something he could not have.

“Goddamnit, I love you,” he whispered. His words were almost a whine, “But I need you to get out of here, okay? I need you to get somewhere safe, somewhere away from me, and I need you to stay there.”

He pressed his lips back to your neck, sucking your skin in between his teeth with enough pressure to bruise, but not to break. His claws bit into the tape, beginning to tear it.

“Eddie-” you spoke fast, panicking at the thought of leaving him like this, “Eddie, I’m not going anywhere. Not when you’re hurt. Look, I know you’re afraid to hurt me, and I know that you think you’re a monster, but you’re not,” you flushed as your voice broke, “You’re not a monster, Eds. You- you make me feel safe. I want to stay.”

He stopped tearing at the tape.

“Eddie,” you sounded more sure, “I’m here. I’m staying, and you won’t hurt me, you won’t lose control-”

“You don’t know that,” he hissed, his voice filled with so much self-loathing that the sound of it broke your heart.

“But I do. Eddie, everything you did tonight, you did to save me. To protect me. You aren’t gonna hurt me. You’re not-”

His hand was on your throat. He didn’t squeeze. There was no pressure, but his claws pricked in against your fragile skin. You should have been afraid of him, or at the very least you should have feared for your life. Eddie was dangerous. You knew he wouldn’t hurt you, but you’d just witnessed him murder several people with the claws that were now against your throat. But in fear’s place, that deep longing still burned inside of you.

”Baby,” Eddie warned, “I need you to understand. There is so very little inside of me that wants to be nice, and there is so much of me that wants to-”

A sharp sting spread out from your neck as his claws drew the tiniest drops of blood. He leaned closer to you, to your neck, “I don’t want to show mercy or kindness. I want to fuck you until my cum is spilling out of you, until you can’t move, and then I wanna keep going. I want to use you until you know that that pretty little slit between your legs belongs to me. I want to claim you. To own you. To ruin you for everyone else. I want you to bleed for me, and that is terrifying.”

He paused, releasing your throat from his hold and bringing his lips to your neck. He lapped at the drops of blood that spilled from the pinprick-like wounds he’d made. The second his tongue was on you, he took his other hand off your wrists and moved his touch down your body. He stopped at the hem of your shirt, his fingers biting into the material, almost tearing it like they had torn your skin just moments before.

“Sweet girl, I wanna fuck you until it hurts- fuck you while we’re surrounded by the bodies of our enemies- and then I want to drain you. I am a monster. And I want you the way a monster would. Do you understand?”

Again, you should have been afraid. You should’ve let him free your wrists, and then you should have run away. You should have screamed.

Instead, you moaned.

You couldn’t help it. It just sort of slipped out of you- his words, the intensity of his gaze, the sweet sting at your neck- it all poured gasoline on the already raging fire burning inside your core. Your legs fell apart for him, thighs spreading wide as arousal pooled between them. Eddie looked a little surprised.

“Did you- did you just fucking moan?”

You grumbled, desperate to hide your face in shame. Your humiliation doubled when you realized that with Eddie’s heightened senses, he could probably tell that you wanted him. He could undoubtedly hear the racing of your heart and smell the want between your legs.

“You fucking heard me,” you sighed, looking away in defeat, “But you- you can’t just say shit like that. You have to know that I want you.”

“You want me? To what, to kill you? Because-”

You cut him off, sighing again at your boyfriend’s dramatics, “Oh my god, Eddie, I want you inside of me.”

He froze for a second, stunned into silence. You took that as a cue to carry on, “I want you to fuck me. To claim me. I want you to use me, to ruin me, whatever, I just want to be yours.”

Eddie remained quiet, though his features had softened slightly. You turned back to face him, shoving your shame out of your mind. You sat up in his hold, letting him wrap his arms around your waist as you encircled your still-bound arms around his neck. His eyes were still wide with shock, but there was an undeniable sense of adoration within them. In turn, Eddie saw no fear in your gaze- just determination. And arousal.

“I want you to take me,” you begged, twisting your fingers in his hair, “Right here, and right now, and if you have to do that ‘like a monster,’ then do it. I don’t care. I just want you.”

Another growl ripped itself from Eddie’s throat as he pushed you back to the ground, keeping your arms around him, “Do you understand what you’re getting yourself into?”

You nodded, leaning up and pressing your lips to his in a quick and surprisingly chaste kiss. He smiled against your skin- a genuine smile, this time. You’d convinced him. He sighed, reaching up to gently cup your face. He traced over your cheek as he spoke, “Use your words for me, sweet girl.”

You turned your head to press a kiss to his palm, “I know. Do you understand that I don’t care what I’m getting myself into?”

He raised an eyebrow. You continued, a devious smirk on your face.

“You could do whatever you want to me because I want this. I want you. And, hey if you don’t fuck me at this point, maybe I’ll do it myself and make you watch.”

On the last word, you parted your lips and bit Eddie’s hand. He choked. A blush covered his face, painting his features pink up to the tips of his ears. You smiled, satisfaction with your work sinking in as you leaned up to press a kiss to Eddie’s cheek. His skin was warm, far warmer than the palm he had on your face just moments before.

Eddie shook his head, snapping out of his flustered state. His eyes darkened as want crept back into his gaze. He took your arms from around his neck, pressing a kiss to your hands before he pressed them into the ground above your head. You were pinned.

“Even now, you’re such a fuckin’ brat,” Eddie purred, “Y’know, it might be a little tough for you to get yourself off seeing as you’re, y’know, at my mercy, but I’d like to see you try. I can’t complain about a show like that.”

You gave a defiant wiggle, stretching your hands as much as you could with your wrists still pinned and bound, “I know. That’s why I-”

A moan swallowed your words as he pressed a kiss to the column of your throat. The sound heightened in pitch, becoming a cry as his teeth bit into your soft flesh. Eddie smiled against your neck as he released his hold on your wrists. His hands moved down your body, his actions slow, fingers weighed down by intent. His touch lingered by your breasts for a second, giving your tits a harsh squeeze before he reached further. A sharp gasp left you as you felt his cold digits press against the bare skin beneath the hem of your shirt.

His grip tightened on the fabric, claws piercing through it before he tore it from you entirely, leaving your upper body exposed to the chill of the barn. Goosebumps rose on your skin. Beneath your bra, your nipples pebbled from both the cold and your arousal. Eddie made short work of that garment, too, not bothering with the clasp. In less than a second, your bra was in pieces on the floor beside your poor, poor shirt.

Eddie paused, taking in the sight of your chest. His hands slipped up and over your waist, stopping just beneath your breasts, “Holy shit,” his voice was rough, gravely- and it had you arching up into his hold, “You’re so fucking beautiful. So fucking perfect.”

He leaned in, wrapping his lips around one of your nipples, nipping at your flesh ever so slightly. His fangs threatened to pierce your skin, and you knew you wouldn’t mind if they did. You meant what you said. Eddie could have his way with you however he liked. He could cut you, bleed you, break you, and you would let him. You would lie there for him and just let him take everything he wanted. (Of course, you knew he wouldn’t. He loved you far too much to ever cause you real harm.)

You let out a whine, running your hands into Eddie’s hair. It was a little difficult- your wrists were still bound- but you did your best. He moaned, lips still against your skin, and you found yourself writhing at the sensation. Your body begged for more, for him to do more than touch and bite- you wanted to be fucked.

“Eddie, please- please,” the attempt was sweet, but your pleas went ignored. Eddie pulled his mouth away from your nipple, moving just slightly to mark up the rest of your chest. You tilted your head back, panting as his hands descended to the hem of your shorts, squeezing and scratching your sides as he went.

“Eds, please-”

“That’s it, good girl,” Eddie purred, teeth still against your chest, “Beg for me.”

You whined, bucking your hips up, trying to get some friction. Eddie laughed a little as you tried desperately to squeeze your thighs together. The leg he kept between yours prevented it, and you groaned, tugging on his hair in retaliation.

Eddie moaned, leaning back until you could see his eyes shut in pleasure, “So pretty. And such a fucking brat-”

He sunk his fangs deep into your chest. You cried out, digging your nails into his scalp. You keened weakly as he drank from you. He didn’t take much- he was already enduring what could be considered a blood overdose- but he did take enough to shut you up, to make you hurt.

When he pulled away, you were a mewling mess beneath him. Your whines only got louder when he dragged his tongue over the bite wound. A sharp grin exposed his fangs, now stained with your blood. He leaned in, kissing you deeply, sliding his tongue passed your lips. You could taste the copper tang of your life in his mouth.

He pulled away, breathless, and in seconds he was back on your body, pressing open-mouthed kisses down your arm, biting at your wrist and drawing blood before he moved back to your chest. He pulled your other nipple between his teeth, nipping and biting, making you whine. You moved your body against the thigh he kept between your legs, grinding on it. You were desperate and Eddie knew it.

He kissed down your stomach, biting at your hip as his grip tightened on the fabric of your shorts. You yelped at the sting of his teeth, the sharp piercing of his fangs in your flesh. Eddie’s tongue laved over your hip, lapping up the blood that dripped down your side. He tore your shorts to pieces before the blood could stain them, ripping your panties off with them.

A loud gasp escaped you, and you let out a whine as the cold barn air met with your dripping cunt. Eddie’s smile was almost shark-like. Lots of teeth.

“So pretty,” Eddie whispered, “And so wet for me, baby.”

He pressed a kiss to the new bite mark hip before he continued, “Y’know, watching you fuck yourself for me- I’d only last so long before I just took you for myself.”

Two fingers moved up your slit, gathering your arousal before meeting with your clit. His skin was rough, callused from fighting and from his guitar. His touch was electric, sending shockwaves through your spine. You couldn’t hold back your moan, nor could you control your hips as they bucked up into his hand.

“S-so,” you tried to speak as his fingers moved in tight circles over your sensitive nub, “You’d still fuck me, then?”

“I’d clean your fingers off first, but yes.”

“Oh, good. So either way, I get what I want.”

He paused his ministrations and pulled his fingers away entirely, digging them into your sides. You made a noise of protest, but Eddie remained still. For a second, he just stared at you, half squinting. In the time it took to blink, his teeth were on your chest again. He didn’t break the skin, but he got so dangerously close to it that you couldn’t help but shiver as want dripped down your thighs.

Eddie’s grip tightened on you, and you wondered what the bruises his ring-clad fingers left on your hips would look like later on. An especially sharp bite pulled you back to the present. You mewled, whining as Eddie nipped at the soft skin over your heart. You could almost feel your blood pumping faster through your veins, sending that same fire through each one of your nerves.

Slowly, though, Eddie’s fangs distanced themselves from you. It was just his lips on your skin. The pressure was still bruising to be sure, but something had changed.

“I’ll give you whatever you want. Whatever,” you could feel Eddie speaking against you, his breath warm on your chest, “Whatever you want, just stay with me.”

A few short moments ago, he’d been begging you to run away from him. Now, he wanted you to stay. A quick kiss to your bloodied temple told you why.

‘I will,” you pulled his forehead to yours, locking eyes with him, “I promise I will.”

You ran your fingers through his hair, wrapping your arms around his neck as your nails gently scratched at his scalp. He melted into your touch before leaning in, pressing his soft lips against yours. The kiss was so gentle, so different from the harsh bites and scratches he’d delivered so far. Your body overflowed with want, a broken fountain pouring desire onto the floor.

“You,” you muttered against him, “Are everything I want.”

He looked down at you for a second, eyes wide and wanting. You leaned up, capturing his lips with yours. One of his hands came up, cupping your face gently, holding you like you were something precious. Your lips fit against his perfectly. The fire inside you was threatening to take down the goddamn barn.

You paused. Wrapping a strand of Eddie’s hair around your fingers, you gave a slight tug. You met his gaze with a small smile, removing your arms from around his neck and bringing them in front of you.

“Also, I would like to be untied, please.”

He laughed and did as you asked, freeing you with a swipe of his claw. Instantly, your hands were on his face, your fingers running over his cheekbones, sweeping under his eyes. With your new freedom, you were able to run your hands up and through his hair properly. Above you, Eddie seemed to purr.

Eddie lowered himself, kissing and biting down your breasts and stomach, leaving bruises as he went. His movements were the same as before, but there was a new passion to them. You brushed your fingers over his shoulders, scratching at him slightly. He gripped onto the soft skin of your inner thighs, threatening to tear into it. You arched your hips up towards him. He grabbed them, grip tight and claws digging in. You cried out quietly as he pushed them back to the ground. Your back stung slightly, but the pain was quickly put out of your mind.

“Stay put for me, will you, sweetheart?”

You barely had a moment to register his words. His lips met with your heat, and you cried out at the sensation. His tongue moved up and down, teasing your entrance before his lips closed around your clit. You couldn't keep your thighs from closing around his head when you felt the harsh edges of his teeth. He didn’t seem to mind. More than that, he moaned against you. You had to fight to keep still beneath him.

Eddie kissed and bit you, eating you out like a man starved, like an animal that hadn’t been fed in an eternity or longer. The pleasure he brought you was almost violent in nature. You let out a string of incomprehensible words, moaning and whimpering as he drank your arousal.

“You taste so good, baby,” he pressed his lips to your clit, “So sweet. You’re perfect.”

One of his hands slid back up your body, leaving goosebumps behind. He stopped between your breasts, strong fingers pressed against your sternum ever so slightly, holding you still. Over the next few moments, as his teeth and tongue teased you relentlessly, dragging you to the edge at a rapid pace, your hand slipped into his. His claws bit into your skin. Your nails bit into his.

“Fuck- fuck, Eddie-”

“Gettin’ close, sweetheart? Gonna cum for me?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but your words fell to nothing as you cried out his name, shaking as you came for him. Your voice echoed off the walls, and Eddie didn’t think he’d ever heard a sweeter sound. He could feel your heart racing under his hand, your pulse racing through your wrist. The way your fingers squeezed around his- like you wanted him, like you needed him- made him feel weak.

It took you a minute to come back to earth. You could barely hear Eddie shrugging off his shirt and jacket over the sound of your own panting. The metallic clink of his belt buckle meeting the floor as he removed it got your attention.

You propped yourself up on your elbows to watch him. Your eyes traced up his slender waist, over scarred and tattooed skin. His wings cast sharp shadows over his body. He freed his cock from his pants, and you tried to keep yourself from drooling as it sprang up against his stomach.

Eddie had always been gifted. He had always been big, thick- the sight of him was always enough to make your mouth water. Even before the Upside Down had so kindly bestowed him with new shit, you thought he was perfect. But after?

You weren’t sure why Vecna had decided to give your boyfriend’s cock ridges and a few extra inches, but you weren’t about to look a gift dick in the mouth. You would never get used to the sight- it would always make you shiver with want, make you drip with need. Perhaps a rational person would be intimidated by the sheer size of him, by the ridges that now covered his length, but you? Never. You didn’t care about anything. You didn’t fear anything. You just wanted him.

Your eyes caught his- honey shining in the twilight, warm, wanting, and slightly hesitant. His pupils were blown out, dark voids drinking in the sight of you. He wanted to give you a moment to catch your breath. He wanted to take a second to kiss you and to hold you close. Eddie wanted to be gentle, but something deep inside him- specifically all the blood he’d drained from you and your attackers- demanded that he get his cock inside you as fast as he fucking could.

“Baby, are you- are you sure you want this? I’m not- I’m not gonna be nice.”

“I don’t care, I don’t-” you sat up, grabbing Eddie’s shoulders and pulling him down on top of you, “I want you, Eds. I don’t care about anything else.”

“Okay. Okay, just- promise me you’ll stop me. If I hurt you, or if it’s too much, promise you’ll stop me.”

“I will,” you could barely hear yourself over the pounding of your heart, “Whatever you need, I promise.”

He took a deep breath before taking his cock in his hand, stroking it twice. He lined himself up with your entrance, pressing against you ever so slightly. He kissed up your jaw, pressing his lips against your ear before he whispered, “I love you. And I’m sorry.”

In one swift movement, he was inside you, buried to the hilt. You were wet and ready for him, but the sudden stretch- the sudden ache of his length pressing against your walls was still a lot for your already sore body to take. Tears sprang to your eyes. A scream tore itself from your throat before you could block it, mingling in the air with the sound of Eddie’s moans.

You could see the guilt in his eyes, but he didn’t slow his pace. His thrusts were fast and deep, almost violent in their intensity. The drag of his cock inside your needy cunt- the feeling of his veins and ridges against your walls- had your eyes rolling back, had you moaning like some mindless slut.

Eddie wasn’t doing much better. He quickly lost himself in the feeling of your body writhing under his, squeezing his dick every time moved. He brushed against a spot inside you that made you see stars. Your muscles clenched as his cock brushed it over and over again. Pain and pleasure shot through you, sparking through your veins and making you dig your nails into his back. He barely felt it.

Eddie took your hips into his hands, his grip bruising, his claws digging in. You could feel your blood pooling beneath his claws, staining his nails red. His lips were against your chest again, his teeth biting and scratching your skin. You barely noticed. You were too focused on him, on his cock forcing its way deeper and deeper inside, finding places that only he could reach.

“Still with me, sweetheart?” His voice was raspy, rough around the edges as he tried to catch breath that he didn’t technically need.

“Still with you,” your voice was just as breathless as his, “Don’t stop.”

He didn’t. The sound of his hips slamming into yours cut through the silence of the night. Your fingers moved over Eddie’s back, scratching white lines into his skin. Your hands danced over the bones and flesh of his wings, darting over every sensitive spot. You knew his body well, and in seconds he was melting into you. Maybe it was a dirty move- you pulling out all of the stops on him- but you were sure he didn’t mind if his moans were anything to go by. His cock twitched inside your walls, and you moaned at the sensation. You were weak and wanting, and he was much the same.

“That’s it, baby,” he purred, “That’s my girl. So fucking good for me, so tight.”

His words slurred together, morphing into a low growl as he fucked into you. The smell of sex filled the barn, overtaking the stench of blood and decay. The barn itself seemed to fade further and further from view with every stroke, leaving only Eddie behind. For the moment, it was just the two of you. There were no threats to your life, no disgusted old ladies in grocery stores, and no jocks that wanted you dead. It was just you and the boy you loved.

One of his hands left your hip, moving back downwards to press his fingers against your clit. You could feel him trying to set a pace while also trying to keep his claws from scratching your delicate skin. As his fingers traced those familiar tight circles, you spiralled under him, walls clenching down around him as you drowned in the feeling of his skin on yours.

You could faintly hear him whispering filthy things in your ear- descriptions of all the depraved things he would do to you spoken over the deafening roar of your beating heart and the sound of skin on skin. Between words, his lips pressed kisses to every part of you that he could reach. Tears rolled down your cheeks as you neared overstimulation. Eddie kissed them away.

Mindlessly, one of your hands slipped away from his wings and over his side. Your fingers brushed something wet, a gouge in Eddie’s skin. The bullet wound. Immediately he flinched, clenching his jaw tightly to keep from crying out. You pulled back with near-inhuman speed, but the damage had been done. In your panic, you didn’t notice Eddie’s pained gasp turning into a laugh. You didn’t feel his cock pulsing inside you. As apologies spilled from your mouth, he took your now-bloodied hand in his free one.

“Damn,” he spoke over you, his voice rough and low, “I guess I deserved that, huh?”

You stared up at him, stunned into silence. Your face burned under his gaze. Even if you knew how to respond to that, you didn’t get the chance. Eddie brought your fingers to and past his lips, stealing your breath from your lungs in the process. His tongue moved around your fingers with a certain grace as he licked the cranberry colour of his blood off of your skin. The sight of it- of his lips around your fingers, drawing you in- was enough to take you to the edge. A little added pressure on your clit was enough to send you over, into a white-hot abyss.

You cried out as your walls clenched down around him. Tears stained your cheeks as your orgasm overtook you. Eddie pulled back, groaning slightly. Transparent strings connected his lips to your now damp fingers. A devilish grin overtook his features, “You liked that, huh? You came hard for me, sweet thing.”

You let out an embarrassingly loud whine in agreement, your body shaking as it came down from its high. Eddie let out a groan that matched your volume as he moved his hips against yours at a harsh and unforgiving pace.

He panted, “I’m- I’m gonna need you to use your words, baby. Need you to- fuck- need you to tell me. You can do that for me, right?”

You let out another whimper before you let out a broken confession, “I- I liked that,” he leaned in to kiss you, but you cut him off again, “But you didn’t deserve it. You don’t deserve to be hurt- unless y’know, it’s kinky.”

Eddie froze for a second. Your words had caught him off guard. As he stilled inside you, his smile changed. Everything about him became less devilish and more genuine. He broke eye contact. You could just see a pink flush spread over the pale skin of his neck and cheeks as he buried his face in your shoulder. When he spoke again, his words were muffled by your flesh against his mouth.

“You’re too good to me.”

His thrusts picked back up again, the same as they were before. He slowly placed your hand back where he found it, “Far too good.”

A sharp sting spread through your body as his teeth pierced your flesh. A fresh round of tears pooled in your eyes at the new ache. Blood dripped down your shoulder and over your chest, painting red lines down your tits. Ruby-red droplets jumped slightly with each snap of his hips. You felt him twitch at the sight of it. His grip tightened, and he made a sound somewhere between a growl and a purr.

“You’re- fuck,” his voice edged on wicked, desperation seeping in as he reached up to wipe your tears away, “You’re mine. I’m gonna make sure everyone knows who you belong to. Gonna make sure they know- make sure no one ever hurts you again.”

“Please, Eds. I want you- I want you to claim me. Want you to show them that I’m just your slut-”

Eddie felt a twinge in his chest, guilt taking arousal’s usual place. Degradation was usually fun to some degree, but he knew what people in this town called you. He knew what they thought you were and he knew the danger it put you in; and with the events that had led you here, his fear was raw. Worry burned through his head, turning brain cells into exposed wires. His lips quickly pressed his lips to yours bringing your pleas to a brief halt. When he pulled away, he whispered, “You know you’re more than that, right?”

“I know,” you leaned up to kiss him, recognizing the emotion in his eyes, “A thing can be two things. I’m a person, and I’m yours, body and soul. Just yours.”

He shut his eyes, chasing down your lips and kissing you breathless. It was sweet, not gentle, but kind- and you wanted to change that. You wrapped your teeth over his lower lip and bit down. You didn’t draw blood. You weren’t sure that you could, but you sure as hell tried. Eddie growled, but before he could say anything, you were whispering into him again.

“You’re mine, too. Remember that.”

The smile that crossed his face was blinding. Desire consumed him again as his hips moved against yours. His thrusts came faster, deeper, and impossibly harder. His eyes clouded over with lust, and you were pretty sure that if you had a mirror, you would see the same thing reflected in your own face. The want. The need. Your body melted beneath Eddie’s as he fucked into you the way he said he would- like a fucking animal.

Your body craved his- you wanted him to keep his word, to take you, claim you, protect you. You wondered, briefly, what it said about you- that you wanted your partner to commit acts of violence in your name. You brushed those thoughts away as a familiar tension began to build in your core.

As your edge grew nearer, Eddie could feel his monstrous instincts overtake him. He knew that his grip on your body was just a bit too firm, that he was leaving dark bruises and deep bite marks all over you. If he wasn’t careful, he would hurt you, but careful seemed to be the last thing you wanted. You kept begging him for more, arching your body into his, digging your nails into him. Soft, depraved pleas escaped your lips, morphing into cries as you came undone beneath him.

Eddie wasn’t sure what happened next. He blinked, eyes falling shut, and when he opened them, he was using your body with a level of violence he had always tried to keep you from.

A broken scream ripped its way out of your throat as the head of Eddie’s cock rammed against your cervix with bruising force. A blinding agony spread through you, crawling through your nerves and making you gasp for air. You could barely feel Eddie’s claws digging into your sides, barely feel it as he thrust back into you. Your thighs slammed shut around his hips. A whimper escaped your lips as your nails scratched down his back, desperately searching for purchase.

Eddie paused for a split second, looking down at you with wide, panicked eyes. He didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop. He hated himself for it. You took a deep breath as he kept moving, as he kept thrusting deep within your walls. You tried to relax, to let the pain fade. You failed. You felt the head of his cock hit your cervix a second time, and you bit down on your lip, drawing blood. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you held back a scream- you couldn’t hold back your pleas for mercy.

“Eddie-” your voice broke, “Eddie, stop. Please, please, stop- I can’t-”

All pleasure had left your voice, leaving only pain and fear behind. Again, he didn’t stop. He wanted to stop- he desperately wanted to stop. He needed to stop, and he knew that. He was hurting you, and that killed him, but some shameful part of his blood-drunk mind was excited by your pain. It wanted to keep going, even if he didn’t.

In a panic-fueled attempt to end your agony, your hands pressed against Eddie’s shoulders, pushing him back. It was enough to snap him out of it and make him stop- and it made him notice the blood dripping over your lip and down your chin.

The first word to pass his lips was, “No.”

There was a deep, disbelieving horror in his voice, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing, what he had done to you. He reached for you, slowly and cautiously, giving you plenty of time to stop him. When you didn’t, he wiped the blood off your face with his thumb, cradling your jaw with the rest of his fingers.

“Shit- shit, shit, shit,” his other hand came up to hover near your face. Tears filled his eyes. If you didn’t see it, you would’ve heard it in his voice. Your boy sounded so broken, “I’m sorry, baby, fuck, I’m sorry. I wasn’t careful enough. I didn’t mean to hurt you-”

“I know, baby. I know.”

“Yeah,” he whispered, “You know.”

Eddie wrapped his hands around yours and pinned your arms to the concrete above your head. He kept your fingers intertwined. As much as he hated himself for it, he didn’t want to let go. A whimper escaped you, and you watched Eddie’s face as he shut his eyes and hissed. For a moment, you thought he was hurt.

“Eddie-”

“You know that the man you love is a monster. You know that every time I touch you, I risk hurting you. You know I could kill you, the same way I killed those men tonight. The same way they tried to kill you, I could just-”

His hands squeezed yours. He wouldn’t look you in the eye. He looked anywhere else, just not into your eyes.

“Eddie,” your voice was softer, reassuring.

“Sweetheart, when I fuck you, you are being violated by a monster. If I claim you, it means that you’re owned by a monster. If we-if I got you pregnant, if you had my kids… they’d be like me. A monster just like their dad.”

He shifted slightly, preparing to pull away from you as he began to sink into that familiar pit of self-loathing. Eddie had barely moved an inch when you latched onto him further, clinging to him, wrapping your legs around his hips to make him stay.

“You think this is a violation? Eddie, I asked for this. Do you not want-?”

“Oh god. Baby, I want this. I want you, more than I should, but I hurt you. I didn’t stop when you needed me to, and that- it terrifies me. This was a mistake, I never should’ve-”

“I don’t think this was a mistake. Any of it,” you sat up a bit, just enough to press your forehead against his, “You stopped. I’m okay. And, uh… I kind of liked what you were saying. But-”

“But?”

“You really think our kids would be monsters?” you asked, “With you as their father? No way. Menaces, maybe, but not monsters.”

He said nothing, but a small smile crossed his face. He didn’t pull any further away. He just stared at you with those sweet doe eyes of his, so warm, so enamoured with you, and still so full of guilt.

It wasn’t a surprise that his mind had gone to such a place- he had killed a bunch of people moments before, fucked you on top of their bodies, and now, he had hurt you. It was an accident, you both knew that, but the guilt would eat him alive if he let it. You weren’t willing to let that happen. You hadn’t let those dark thoughts get to him in the past, and you sure as shit weren’t going to start now.

“Eddie. Everything you did tonight, you did to save me. Everything you do is to protect the people you love and care about. Tonight, two years ago, and even further back. You love with everything you have. You- are so brave, and so deeply kind, even if you pretend not to be, and if that makes you a monster, then I hope our children are monsters, too. And I hope they have your eyes.”

He remained still for a moment. His expression betrayed both his shock at your statement and his want. In the next second, his lips were on yours. He let go of your wrists, bringing his hands back to your face.

“I love you,” he whispered into the kiss, “I love you, I love you.”

You leaned up and into him, kissing him back as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, “I love you too. So much. And I want you to remember, I also killed a man tonight. If you’re a monster, then…”

He let out a quiet laugh, lips moving down your neck, feathering kisses over your skin all the way to your collarbone, “We’re monsters together, then.”

You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer, “Exactly,” you purred. You paused for a second, becoming violently aware of the weight of his cock inside of you. You taped your fingers against his spine before you thrust your hips down against his, “You can, uh… you can start again now. I think I’m okay.”

“You sure?”

You leaned closer, whispering against his lips, “I am.”

He pressed his lips to yours, tongue slipping between your lips as he began to thrust into you again. His pace was quick, but not painful, and not quite so unforgiving. Your fingers reached up to wrap around the messy strands of his hair, tugging gently. He moaned into the kiss, sounding hungry and desperate once again.

As you drew nearer to your edge, your thoughts began to race. His words spilled through your mind, drowning your psyche with every sentiment he’d put forward. He loves you deeply. He’s terrified of hurting you. He’s desperate to keep you safe. You mean something to him. He’s thought about having kids with you, and you wanted him to think about that- fuck.

Your walls tightened around him. His cock twitched inside of you as he neared his own edge.

You whimpered out Eddie’s name, tugging on his hair until he pulled away from you. His brows furrowed in concern as he took in the sight of you, but you didn’t look like you were in pain. Your eyes were wide, filled with lust, and your chest heaved with every breath you took. You were covered in blood and sweat, and you were the most beautiful thing Eddie had ever seen. He felt your hands move to his face, and his gaze focused on your lips as you spoke.

“Eddie,” your voice was soft, “I need you to cum inside me.”

You watched as his eyes widened, as his lips parted in shock and a faint blush covered his cheeks. You were kind of proud that even in a moment this intimate, you could still get him to flush like that.

“You- you want me to-?”

You nodded, cutting him off and pulling him closer, “I want you to fill me up. Breed me, please.”

He shivered, a current of electricity running through him at your words. His body and his instincts screamed at him to do exactly as you’d said.

“You,” he whispered, “You’re perfect.”

His mouth slipped downwards, lips pressing against the space between your throat and your shoulder. His teeth sunk into your shoulder. Pain spread through your skin, white-hot as your blood dripped over your chest. Your muscles spasmed around him as the coil snapped. Your grip tightened on his hair. You could faintly hear him cry out in your own haze. His claws dug into you as he fell over that all-consuming edge.

Eddie bit down harder on your throat as he came, drinking just enough from you to make you see stars. His cock throbbed against your walls as his seed spread inside you, thick, and hot, and perfect. You clung to him, your breath stuttering as your muscles clenched, milking him for more.

As he finished, the monstrous need to fuck and breed you faded away to nothing. He was left with the more human parts of him after that- the parts of him that knew what aftercare was and that you would need it, the parts of him that knew he had to get you somewhere safe, somewhere away from the bodies of your attackers. Your body was limp beneath Eddie’s. Your eyes were closed, and your lips slightly parted. You were fucked out, completely cock drunk, and utterly perfect.

Eddie brushed your hair off your face. You could hear him repeating your name softly as you came back to earth. When you opened your eyes, he was hovering above you, looking at you with more affection than you could put into words.

“Hi,” he said, voice low and slightly shaky.

“Hi,” you let one of your hands move up to his face, brushing your fingers over his cheek.

“You okay, pretty girl?”

“‘M more than okay.”

He smiled, taking your hand from his cheek and pressing his lips to it, “Thank god, I don’t know what I would do if you weren’t.”

“You’d probably lose your mind.”

“Oh, I’d definitely lose my mind.”

You finally caught your breath as he kissed each of your knuckles and your wrist before he brushed his lips down your arm and to your shoulder. He let his cheek rest against your chest, listening to your heartbeat as it finally slowed down to something resembling normal.

Once it had, he lifted his head back up to look you in the eye, “We should probably get out of here, though. Get you home.”

“God, I would like that so much.”

He pulled himself up until he was kneeling, fixing his pants and passing his shirt to you. You pulled it over your head, watching as he got to his feet. He held out his hands to you and you took them, letting him help you to stand. You shook slightly, weak in the knees from both the attack and from everything Eddie had done to you. You buried your face in his chest as his cum dripped down from your abused cunt onto your thigh.

“Ah,” you hissed, “I have no pants.”

Eddie left a hand on your arm, supporting you as he stooped down to collect your torn clothes, “I guess there’s no saving these?”

You shook your head, smiling slightly as he winced.

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that.”

“Don’t worry about it baby,” you leaned up and kissed his cheek, “It was more than worth it.”

His grin showed you his teeth. He picked up his jacket off the ground and wrapped it around your shoulders. You still had no pants, but it would be enough for now. You pressed a kiss to his bare collarbone as thanks. He tilted your chin up with two fingers and kissed you properly.

“Come on,” he whispered, “Let’s go home.”

You pulled away from him for a second, looking around at the abandoned barn. It looked like a scene straight out of a horror movie. Blood covered the floor and stained the walls. Seven bodies laid out on the concrete, mutilated in various ways. You felt Eddie’s fingers on your jaw, gently bringing your gaze back to him.

His eyes were wide- something in them was almost scared. He didn’t want you to fear him- to hate him. He didn’t want you to think that he was a monster, but the bodies in the room only led to one conclusion- and you didn’t mind it. Monster or otherwise, Eddie was yours.

“Yeah,” you brushed your lips against his, “Let’s go home.”

A grin crossed his face, and the fear faded from his eyes as he bent down and scooped you up, pulling you into his arms. Maybe two years ago, when he was still human, he wouldn’t have been able to carry you home, but his vampiric strength was at present, a gift.

You let your head rest against his chest, wrapping your arms around his neck as he stepped through the blood, out of the barn, and into the night.

You fell asleep on the way home. You shut your eyes outside the barn, with the moon shining above you like a pearl in an inky black ocean, and opened them in the safety of the home you shared with Eddie- Hopper’s old cabin.

It had been in a bit of a state when Hopper had given it to you, but it was more than worth the hours you’d spent fixing it. It was a safe place for Eddie to stay- secret, isolated. It was the only place you could stay without the fear of capture and torture hanging over your heads.

At least, it had been. But that fear had come too close, breaking down your door and ripping its way into your life. You had been saved this time, but the experience followed you home. You weren’t sure what would come next.

You turned your focus away from the nebulous future and towards the present. Beneath you, your couch was soft. The living room was warmly lit by a lamp on the end side table next to you. You couldn’t see Eddie, but you could hear the sound of the tap running in the bathroom. From your spot, you could see grocery bags neatly folded on your kitchen table. With them sat a bottle of cranberry juice. You didn’t know whether you wanted to laugh or cry at the sight of it.

You sat up and immediately, you had regrets. Every inch of your body ached. Your face stung from the blows you’d taken, and the space between your legs burned and throbbed. The bite marks that marred your skin stung, and you somehow managed to hit every bruise you had in the small act of sitting up.

Despite that pain, you forced yourself to try and stand. You failed miserably. Your knees buckled beneath you, and before you could do anything to maintain your balance, you were back on the couch. The door to the bathroom swung open, and Eddie burst out with a wet cloth in hand.

“Shit! You’re up, hi!”

You couldn’t help but smile at him as he sped towards the couch. He was still shirtless, wearing the same pants he’d worn while saving you. His missing shirt still covered your body and your legs were still bare. His jacket was thrown over the back of the couch beside you.

“Hi,” you reached out for him as he got to the couch. He took your hand in his, kissing it before he placed another kiss on your lips.

“Hey, hi,” he pulled back from you, giving your hand a squeeze, “Sorry, pretty thing, I was just- I was trying to get you cleaned up.”

“Oh! Well,” you reached for the hem of your shirt, “That should be a little easier now that I’m up, right?”

He flushed as you pulled your shirt over your head. It didn’t seem to matter that his cock had been inside you maybe an hour earlier, he still went red at the sight of your boobs. You smirked at him, reaching out and running a hand through his hair.

“You are far too cute, Eddie Munson.”

“And you,” he pushed you back onto the couch, throwing himself down next to you and pulling your legs over his lap, “Are far too beautiful, sweetheart.”

He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your knee.

“So, do you uh- are you okay with this?” he raised the wet washcloth in his hand, “Or do you wanna shower, or?”

“Well, I would get up, but when I tried I fell, so,” you grimaced.

“I could help you,” he gave your leg a squeeze, “Could hold you, up if you want.”

You sat up, pressing kisses to his jaw, “I would like that.”

With a smile, he wrapped your arms around his neck and picked you back up. The trip to the bathroom was a short one. It took even less time for Eddie to remove his clothes and get both of you into the shower.

You kept your arms around him, leaning into his chest as warm water flowed over your back. You could feel your muscles begin to relax, knots unravelling the longer you stood there. Slowly, he started to move. His touch was heartbreakingly gentle as he cleaned every bite mark and every bruise.

In turn, you washed the sweat and blood that came with the fight off of him. Your fingers grazed his side, and you were pleased to find that the gunshot wound he’d taken had almost healed completely. Your hand remained there for a second, your touch feather-light and shaking slightly. You didn’t want to hurt him.

“Hey,” you whispered, “I’m glad you’re okay.”

He laughed a little, though the sound was void of joy, “Yeah? I’m glad that you’re alive.”

Eddie pressed a kiss to your shoulder before asking you to hang onto him. Your hands clutched onto him as he knelt before you, washing off your thighs. You took a deep breath as his hands neared your cunt. He looked up at you with wide eyes, a question held within them.

He quickly put it into words, “You down for round two?”

You grinned as he pressed a kiss to the inside of your thigh, “Yes, please.”

His mouth was on you in an instant. He hooked your knees over his shoulders, pressing you up against the shower wall, keeping you steady with his hands. You tilted your head back at the feeling of his tongue lapping at your arousal. You found yourself biting down on your bottom lip as his lips wrapped around your clit. Your hands moved over your chest, pinching lightly at your nipples. In minutes, you were coming undone against him. Both of you were breathless as he pulled himself away from you.

When he kissed you, you could taste yourself on his lips. You wondered if he could taste himself in you. He cradled your face in his hands

“How’re you feeling?”

“Stupid good,” you murmured, brushing strands of Eddie’s dripping hair out of his eyes.

“That’s what I wanna hear,” he pulled you closer to him, wrapping an arm around your waist as he kissed you a thousand more times. You let out a content hum, smiling into him as you lost yourself in him.

As the two of you climbed out of the shower, you caught sight of your body in the mirror. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the reflection of your bruised and battered body. Bitemarks littered your skin. Splotches of red and purple covered your skin.

You felt heat build within you at the sight of everything Eddie had done- and you felt your stomach twist at the sight of the things he hadn’t. The marks he hadn’t left would leave scars on your mind. You hoped they wouldn’t stain your body longer than they had to.

Eddie noticed your gaze, your eyes riveted to the mirror. He stood from where he’d been drying off your legs and moved to stand behind you. He took your arms in his hands, running them down until your fingers intertwined with his over your stomach. He pressed a kiss to the side of your head, just under the bloodied spot where Kurt’s gun had struck you so much earlier.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he whispered, gently rocking you from side to side.

“Hey, don’t apologize. You aren’t the one who kidnapped me at gunpoint and threatened to break my bones by way of gun,” you shook your head at the ridiculous nature of your captors’ plans, but Eddie had a different reaction.

He buried his face in your shoulder, letting out a whine, “Jesus Christ.”

His hands started to shake against your skin. His breath sped up as his arms tightened around you.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. That never should’ve happened, they never should’ve gotten to you.”

“Hey,” you broke eye contact with your reflection in the mirror and turned around in Eddie’s hold, “There was nothing you could have done. If you had been with me, they would have tried to hurt you. Maybe they would’ve succeeded. And we needed groceries, so-”

“Then I should’ve sent Steve with you. Or Nancy, just someone-”

“I had Max. She’s arguably scarier than Steve and- oh shit, Max,” you pushed away from Eddie, stumbling as you took a step back, “Max, is she okay!? Did someone get her?”

Eddie kept your forearms in his hands, helping to keep you steady, “Deep breaths, sweetheart, deep breaths. Max is alright. As soon as she called me I had Steve go and get her, ironically enough.”

“Oh, thank fuck,” you let out a tired breath as you collapsed against Eddie’s chest, “I guess we have them to thank for the grocery bags on the table?”

Eddie pressed a kiss to the top of your head, “That we do.”

“God, I’m gonna have to call them. To say thank you. And sorry, my God,” you rubbed at your eyes with one hand, “I can’t believe I put Max through that, holy shit.”

“Hey, hey, you didn’t put Max through anything. You got her out of there. That was the best thing you could do, you kept her safe. Besides,” he moved back to look you in the eye, “Red’s a tough kid. She’s dealt with worse than this.”

“I know,” your voice was half a groan, “I still feel bad, though.”

“Well, yeah,” Eddie gently grabbed a hold of you, turning you around to face yourself in the mirror. His hands slipped back into yours, and he brought them back to the expanse of your stomach, “You’ve had, what some would call, a long day, sweetheart.”

You leaned into him, letting out a soft whine when he pressed his lips to your shoulder. You squeezed his hands, “Yeah, you could say that.”

Eddie squeezed back, “Let’s get you to bed, huh?”

“Fuck. Yes, please.”

He picked you up again, pulling you into his arms and letting your head rest against his chest. You felt a bit ridiculous having him carry you around your small home, but it wasn’t like you had much of a choice. Your legs were tired, too weak to carry you. Fortunately, Eddie was more than strong enough.

He laid you on the bed gently, planting a kiss over your new bitemarks before he crawled into bed with you. He started at your side, but within minutes, he was on top of you, his head resting between your breasts. He took your hands in his, intertwining your fingers before kissing them gently.

The two of you lay in silence for a few moments. You ran a hand through his still-damp hair, listening to the sound of your breathing and his. For perhaps the first time today, you were both breathing evenly, completely calm.

On top of you, Eddie was listening to the sound of your heartbeat, sure and steady beneath him. He had spent so much of the day afraid that he would never hear that sound again. He had been terrified that he was going to lose you- that the town that had taken so much from him would take you, too.

But it hadn’t. It had tried, the jocks had tried, but he had stopped them. You were safe now. Safe, and protected, and Eddie seriously didn’t plan on letting you out of his sight for a few days.

“Hey,” you whispered, “How did you- how did you know where I was? Max saw me get kidnapped, but she didn’t know where they took me after.”

His fingers brushed over your temple, “I could smell your blood. Almost killed me when I noticed it. The stronger it got… the more I wanted to end them.”

You leaned into his touch, placing your hand over his.

“I wouldn’t take back what I did,” he continued, “I don’t regret it. I could never regret it. But I’m- I’m afraid that all I am is a weapon. That all I’ll ever be is a weapon. The things Vecna made me do…” he faded off into silence, pulling away and rubbing his hands over his eyes.

You sat up with him, reaching out to trace his strong, scarred arms. You could do nothing but watch as a war raged inside the man you loved. Guilt slipped beneath your skin, thrumming beneath muscle and bone. Eddie had protected you- he killed for you without remorse, and you were excited by that violence. You wondered again what that said about you.

Leaning forward, you pressed your forehead to Eddie’s. He relaxed against you, calmed by your touch.

“Hey, you know you’re more than that, right?” You echoed his words from earlier, “You’re not a weapon, you’re not his puppet, you’re-”

“I’m your man,” he said, a small grin crossing his face, “Your protector. Your slut.”

You giggled, shocked and pleased, and Eddie looked so proud to be the cause of the smile on your face. When his laughter subsided, you crawled into his hold, straddling his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck as his hands moved to your waist. You sat there for a moment, taking in his lack of a heartbeat as he listened to the steady rhythm of yours.

“You know this goes both ways, right?” You whispered, running your fingers over the spot where his wings met his back, “You protect me, I protect you? And we protect… whatever comes along. I might not have the claws or the fangs, but I’ve been told I can be a bit of a bitch when I want to be, so there’s that.”

Eddie pulled you closer to him, pinning your chest to his and holding you there as he laid back on the mattress. One of his hands brushed through your hair while the other traced intricate patterns over your back. You shut your eyes and let yourself bury your face in the space between his neck and his shoulder.

“I know,” he tilted his face to press a kiss to your head, “I couldn’t have asked for a better bodyguard.”

You smiled against his throat, “Neither could I.”

You hummed contentedly as he pulled a blanket over your bodies. The mindless motions of his calloused hands on your back pulled the tension from your muscles, making you relax. Your eyelids grew heavy as you breathed him in- the faint scents of blood and cigarette smoke overtaken by the smell of your body wash. You were so calm, unafraid, and bizarrely happy for a woman who had spent most of her day trying not to die at the hands of her kidnappers.

Maybe having sex on the corpses of your enemies was just a natural mood booster. Maybe it was the man you were having sex with.

“You make me feel safe,” you murmured, words slurred with sleep, “Always have.”

“Good,” his voice was quiet, but he sounded like he was wide awake. You focused on the feeling of his hand running through your hair, of his skin, ice cold beneath your lips.

“Keep doing it?”

“I always will, sweetheart. I won’t let anything hurt you. I won’t lose you.”

“Promise?”

He nodded, and you smiled against his neck, “Good. Protect me.”

Without waiting for a response, you pulled his skin between your teeth and bit down; hard enough to bruise, but not hard enough to draw the sweet cranberry-coloured wine that ran through his veins. His soft moan was music to your ears. With your lips on his throat, and his hands in your hair, you fell into a dreamless sleep. Eddie stayed awake through the night, keeping watch over you until the sun began to rise.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #x reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson angst #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x female reader

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kaylopolis · 4 months

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Alastor's Shadow (18+) Chapter Three

Alastor x F!Reader, Alias: Thestral

Synopsis: There’s a new Overlord in town and it isn’t the Radio Demon. Six years after you fell into Hell, you have finally earned your seat at the table as Pentagram City’s newest and baddest and with the Extermination coming six months sooner than planned, it is now time to implement your ultimate endgame. Afterall, who doesn’t love a bit of power and chaos? Your plans brings you to the doorstep of the Hazbin Hotel as Charlie’s newest Redeemer, but who you find waiting for you will not only turn your entire plan upside down, but also challenge your grab for power…

Tags: Slow burn, rivals to lovers, eventual smut

Masterlist Link: Masterlist

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Author note: Okay Hoteliers, this was my first attempt at some spice. I'm open to constructive criticism! I am a published author but spice is something I am new to and not confident in. Any suggestions are welcome :)

<3 Stay smutty.

Chapter Three - Care for a Drink?

Content warning: mentions of blood, mentions of abuse

You were late.

“Not me! I have to go home and study!" Sir Pentious’ voice echoed through the foyer as you stepped in, nearly missing the first few drops of acid rain.

You were at the Clocktower when the clouds rolled in and threatened to melt your skin off. Unclipping your Mary Jane’s, you took off down the street, doing your best to avoid the trash piling outside the Doomsday District. Out of breath and, with mere seconds to spare, you finally rolled up to the Hotel only to find that Charlie had started without you.

Well, you did say one and it was now twenty minutes past.

“Come on kid, it'll make you cool like me …the crackhead." Angel did not sound amused.

You rounded the corner to find Angel and Sir Pentious reading from scripts and dressed in… Costumes?

"The only cool thing here is to say no to drugs! Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to not have sexual intercourse before marriage!" Sir Pentious chimed.

You snorted into your hand at the sight of Sir Pentious in his sailor-like child costume, complete with large lollipop in hand.

“Hey, Hair clip,” Angel frowned, clearly irritated with his current situation.

You couldn’t blame him. If these were the exercises Charlie had in mind, you don’t know how long you would last either.

Then he eyed your feet and your dress. “What the fuck happened to you?”

“Huh! You made it!” Charlie jumped to her feet and slammed into you with a hug so powerful it knocked you backwards.

“Ouch!” You rolled back on your heels, pushing your blisters into the hardwood flooring.

“Oh, no! I’m so sorry! What’s wrong! I didn’t… I didn’t mean to hurt you. Did I hurt you?” Her eyes begin to fill with tears, her pupils growing big.

Before you had a chance to deny vehemently, Vaggie cut in. “I think it’s her feet, babe.”

She took a step back, giving everyone a view of your blistered toes. Your feet were normal - human shaped, that is - and although you had the same ashen complexion as Charlie, your limbs blackened at the ends, beginning at your elbows and knees. The dark fur hid the grime now encasing your toes, but not the blisters rubbed raw and bleeding red.

“Yeah, that doesn’t look so good, toots,” Angel frowned.

It had to be the heels. Rosie was right, you did need new shoes.

“It’s not that bad,” you waved them off, heading for the stools at the bar.

“Your wincing,” Charlie motioned to you. “She’s wincing.”

“Oh no! You are in pain,” Sir Pentious cried.

“Guys, seriously. I don’t… Ah!” Angel scooped you up into his arms, carrying you to the stairs.

You tried to protest but he interrupted you. “I got a first aid kit in my room. It’s not a big deal.” His voice was stern, his jaw set. You took this not as a rescue for yourself but a rescue for him. He needed an excuse to get away.

“Wait! Wait!” Nifty sprinted around, taking a photo of the two of you before heading back for the couch.

“What the fuck was that?” You asked Angel.

“Charlie put Nifty in charge of the Hotel’s Sinstagram,” the spider demon rolled his eyes. “Don’t look at it. It’s a clusterfuck of a whole lot of nothin’. Mostly bugs and shit she’s found around the joint.”

“Great,” you mumbled, letting the spider demon whisk you away.

____________________________________________

“I seriously don’t know how you walk in shoes like that every day!” You motioned to his ridiculously high heeled boots.

“Practice, toots. You don’t get as good as me by lyin’ on your back… Wait.”

You laughed as you pulled your other sock on, careful not to ruin the bandages Angel oh-so delicately wrapped around your feet. For a Porn Star he sure knew his first aide. You knew it was because of Val, of course, but he didn’t know that you knew…

Never in your years of working have you ever thought about the victim. At least not with sympathy. You enjoyed the chaos, you enjoyed the killing, you enjoyed the fear. Now, something in your chest was twisting itself at the thought of Val placing his hands on Angel.

Angel was such a soft and adorable person, you couldn't fathom Val hurting…

Stop!

You flinched, covering up the action with a cough. You got to your feet, testing their durability. “You, uh, wanna head back down?”

His smile faded. “Nah, I’m gonna lay low for a bit.” Turning to the pig, he collected him in his arms, side glancing the pink phone laying on the bed. “I’m sure Charlie is just dyin’ to dress you up next.”

You paused. “Okay.” That thing in your chest twisted again, rooting you in place before the door.

You sighed.

Fuck.

“I have to change before I head to the bar, but I have some lemon sweets in my room that I know Fat Nuggets would love if you wanna join me.” You ran your hand down the pig’s snout, earning a squeal from the little ball of squish.

You could tell he was debating it by the look on his face, but wasn’t convinced.

“And chocolate,” you sang.

That caught his attention.

“Alright,” you helped him off the bed. “But only a piece, Fat Nuggets is watching his figure.”

You laughed as you headed for the room next to his humble abode, pulling the door wide and gesturing to the couch for him to take a seat.

“Wow, nice place ya’ got here,” he let the pig loose to sniff about the room.

It was. Your room was almost double the size of Angel’s and included a small sitting area. Wonder why he got the short end of the stick?

Then you wondered who else might have seen your room… perhaps without you knowing? You set a mental reminder to place some runes later - keep Alastor and his shadow out. Not that you had anything alarming in here. All the important stuff was kept in your personal Void.

You grabbed the leftovers from the club you got stuck with and moved them to the coffee table. Grabbing a lemon square, you let Fat Nuggets crawl onto your lap as you sat cross-legged on the ground. The small creature squirmed in your lap till you finally handed him the sweet.

Angel helped himself to your pile of chocolates - you hated chocolate, but didn’t want them to go to waste. Thankfully, he left his phone in his room.

“You know,” you started, unsure of where you were going with this. “I’m new here, but sometimes new people observe things others might not notice - a third party perspective if you will.”

“A-ha,” he eyes you suspiciously.

“Sometimes they notice things others may be trying to hide…” You were hoping he would get the point and pick up where you were leading him.

“What are you tryin’ to say, Hair clip?” He ignores the chocolates completely, turning to you with irritation sprawled across his face.

“Ugh,” you huff. “I’m sorry I’m not good at this stuff - feelings and trying to comfort others.” You clear your throat, resisting the urge to rub the back of your neck. “It seems like something is wrong and I was wondering if you wanted to talk about it?” You avoided eye contact, this was uncomfortable enough.

“I’m fine,” he shot you down, tossing a chocolate into the air and catching it in his mouth.

“I know what it’s like to come from a place of… neglect.” You continue anyway. “To be trapped in a situation you cannot control. To be a victim with no power, forced to do things you didn’t wanna do…” Your voice cracked. When had you started tearing up? “And when you try to speak up, to refuse to do something that would harm others…”

“Hey, hey,” Angel was on his knees before you, cupping your cheeks, soothing you with shushes. He smiled when you finally looked up at him.

“You’re gonna ruin all your beautiful makeup, Hair clip.”

You giggled into his hands, your heart warming just a bit.

God, what was it about this Hotel that made you so emotional?

“Look,” Angel huffed. “My boss has just been gettin’ on my nerves lately. He doesn’t like that I moved out. He’s pissed actually. Been blowing up my phone for days, but it’s nothing that I can’t handle.” He rubbed your cheek with his thumb. “I’m managing, I just need some time to work through some things ‘tis all. Alright, toots?”

You knew it wasn’t alright. You’ve heard some pretty infamous stories of the moth demon - yet another reason you have steered clear of the Vees - but Angel was at a point that if you kept prodding, he’d most likely just flip you off and disappear for the rest of the day. Pushing him would be a step back and you needed to take a step forward.

“Okay,” you pouted, wiping your face with your sleeves. God this dress needed to be thrown away.

“Now let’s get changed because I need a drink!” He pulls you to your feet before heading for your clothes. Pulling open your closet door he was shocked to find it empty. Your drawers were no better.

“Seriously?” He waved to the black abyss.

“I’ve been low on cash lately… but I just got paid and new clothes are on the way.”

He held up a pair of black slacks. “Please tell me they’re from this century?”

You ripped the pants from his hands. “I happen to like my clothes, okay.”

“Okay, grandma,” he shrugs. “One of these days, you gotta let me take you shopping. Your closet is an insult to closets.”

“Ha, ha very funny.” You grab a blouse and head for the bathroom.

“Do you even own a pair of sweatpants?” He asks through the door.

“I have silk pajama bottoms?”

He pauses. “Okay, actually impressed by that, but I think I’ve made my point.”

“Whatever,” you emerge from the bathroom, shoving the gray blouse into your pants, giving you that hourglass figure.

Actually, now that you had Angel’s attention maybe he could help with some of your wardrobe problems. Starting with your feet.

“Do you know where I can get a new set of heels?”

————————————————————————

“Hey, whiskers! Pour me something strong, daddy needs a drink!” Angel took the stool next to you.

Husk huffed, rolling his eyes, the bar cat grabbed a random bottle and just started pouring. “Feeling better?” He asked you.

You nodded, twirling in circles on the barstool. You dangled your toes as you spun, smiling at the fact that your feet didn’t touch the ground.

That was probably the one thing you got from Dad you didn’t mind - your height. You and your brothers were short as fuck, but mightier than you looked: fierce beings in tiny packages. Yet, despite the roughhousing between siblings, you were always obedient - Dad wouldn’t have it any other way.

As for Mom? Well, you didn’t have one. You and your siblings never did. You didn’t know the story but then again you never asked. It didn’t seem like something you asked your father. He wasn’t the type to… share certain things with you. He wasn’t closed off, he just didn’t treat you like kids. Dad treated you like soldiers. He commanded and you obeyed.

And at one point in time you were okay with it. Dad said jump, you said how high? Now… After everything that happened on Earth, you promised yourself you’d never let anyone tell you what to do again.

“You wouldn’t happen to have a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon behind that bar of yours would you? It’s my favorite.” You beamed.

“Wine?” Angel scoffs. “Come on toots, I thought you were a lot harder than that.” The spider demon downed half his drink before Husk had even finished pouring it.

“Watch it!” Husk snaps.

“I’m not a hard liquor kinda gal,” you shrugged, watching Husk wipe up the spilled alcohol. “I like to sip and enjoy.”

“Fuck that,” Angel scoffed, examining the new stain on his shirt. “Damn, this is my favorite top.” He grumbled, getting to his feet. “I’ll be back. I gotta spray it before it sets.” The spider demon made his way back upstairs.

Husk waited till Angel was gone before he made your drink next. A glass of red wine in a metal red wine glass - how on the nose. Maybe your lipstick smear won't look as gross.

“I thought I’d give you a heads up, the Princess and her girlfriend went out shopping this morning and got ya’ a little something. Syrups and flavoring for the coffee machine. She’s gonna surprise you at breakfast. Just thought I’d let ya know. You don’t seem the kind who enjoys surprises,” he finishes pouring your glass.

You sniffed before you tasted, letting the smell of currants and oak swim in your nostrils. It was smokier than you expected, but the tannins made your taste buds sing.

God, you missed the wine from before Hell, before your entire world flipped on end…

“Thanks, Husk.”

He leans back against the counter behind the bar, a look of hesitancy on his face that said he wasn’t done talking yet. You sensed giving you a heads up about breakfast tomorrow wasn’t the reason why he asked to speak with you.

“What?” You asked, after his silent gaze became uncomfortable.

“Look. No one gives a shit what you did before you got down here. You’re down here, same as the rest of us, but you gotta watch what you say in… mixed company.”

“What does that mean?” You scrunched your nose in confusion.

“This mornin’, at breakfast.”

He was referring to your small nugget of honesty at the table - your slip of suggested murderer status topside. He was referring to Alastor.

Rosie told you the stories - things only she knew about the Radio Demon. He was a serial killer turned cannibal during his days amongst the living - wasn’t caught either. He died in some sort of hunting accident - explains the deer form. After his death, he rose to power faster than anyone had ever seen, took down some big important Overlords too, projecting their screams over his radio broadcasts.

God, what a sight that would have been.

He showed up out the blue a few weeks ago after disappearing for seven years. Uprooted Husk and Nifty and planted them at the Hotel - he owned their souls, they had to obey.

He had business with the Princess, but no one knew what - mere rumors, but nothing good. Whatever it was, you needed to find out.

If his plans got in the way of yours, you were going to need to do something. You didn’t know what it was you were going to do, but eliminating him wasn’t going to be simple.

“So?” You took a longer sip, needing the alcohol for yet another emotional conversation.

“You’re not stupid kid.” He crosses his arms over his chest, ignoring the glass of whiskey before him. That’s how you knew he was serious.

“Look,” you took the stem of the metal cup between your first two fingers and twirled it about. The glass danced on the edge of its base, twirling like a ballerina on a stage. Husk watched the movement, eyeing the liquid as it spun. “This place is about redemption, correct? So, shouldn’t I be a little honest about my sins, that way I can atone for what I’ve done?”

His eyes were glued to the glass as he responded, “There’s a difference between honesty and painting a target on your back.”

“You mean painting a target on my back in front of him,” you corrected.

He finally met your eyeline, “He’s dangerous, kid…”

You hold up a hand, interrupting him, “You can save your lecture, Husk. I already got it from Rosie this morning.”

His eyes grow a few sizes. “Rosie? The Overlord?”

“No, Rosie the tailor. It seems the Radio Demon and I have similar tastes in fashion.” Another sip - no, a gulp. The glass was practically empty already. You continued your twirl.

So much for slowly enjoying it…

Husk drained his glass, “I’m not gonna bullshit you, kid.” He pours himself another. “He asked me to keep an eye on you.”

You freeze, the hair on the back of your neck standing on end. “What?” You bite.

“I suspect it’s not because he’s concerned for your well-being, either.” The cat demon adds.

So, Alastor the Overlord had his suspicions - going not only to Rosie but Husk as well. It appears poking and prodding during his battle with Sir Pentious was enough to raise his alarms. You were going to have to be very careful from here on out. Alastor was a ticking time bomb without a timer and you were going to have to do something to prevent him from exploding.

Perhaps you should do something to throw him off. Make yourself appear weaker than he expects. Get into a fight which you lose on purpose to a demon far weaker than yourself. Would that be enough or would he know Husk had warned you? Would he expect you to do something to completely negate his suspicions only to make him look at you even more closely?

Fuck - you didn’t know what to do.

“So, he didn’t say why,” you finished the glass, gritting your teeth in frustration.

Husk laughs. “He doesn’t explain anything to me and he ain’t about to start.”

Great, so Rosie was going to be your only insight into the red demon.

Unless…

Unless, you befriended him yourself. Now that would really throw him for a loop.

“Hey, where did you learn to do that with the glass…?” Husk begins to ask but is interrupted.

“Get your aggressively average body OFF OF ME!” Sir Pentious’ scream echoes throughout the foyer.

You and Husk fly to the library to find Angel wrestling the snake demon to the ground. Charlie and Vaggie followed soon after.

“What’s going on?” Charlie asks, concern flitting between the two demons.

“This little bitch is a traitor!” Angel moves aside a pile of books to reveal a video camera.

Vox.

Sir Pentious flies into a panic, summoning the media demon on his watch, demanding evacuation.

Pathetic honestly. You’re not sure you would have responded any better to the snake demon than Vox had. Not that you wanted to agree on anything with the leader of the Vees, you detested the sore excuse for an Overlord and wanted nothing to do with him.

Yes, you fixed his bowtie earlier today, but he looked so… pathetic standing in that alleyway. It actually kind of irritated you now that you think of it. A demon of that caliber throwing tantrums in a random back alley? Come on man, get yourself together.

Vaggie pulls out her spear, prepared to skewer the snake, before Charlie interrupts. “It starts with sorry…”

Ah, fucking kill me. Little Ms. Bleeding Heart everyone.

As you watched the events unfold, you felt static zip down your spine. Almost as if you were being watched.

You spun and searched the shadows but there was no one there. Wait, no one you could see. Rosie told you of Alastor’s shadow, how it could hide him in darkness, how it could detach from his form and do his bidding elsewhere. You were going to have to take that into account when sneaking out at night - double check every shadow and second guess every dark corner.

“Good first day! Let’s get some rest.” Charlie guided him back to his room.

You waited until the hallways were empty before taking a step towards the abandoned watch.

“Would you like to do the honors or shall I?” You ask the darkness.

There’s a pop of static before the Overlord melts from the floor, scooping up the electronic device. He crushes it beneath his fingers in a burst of electricity. You watch as Vox’s image blurs before dying.

Alastor drops the plastic and metal to the floor before addressing you. “You knew I was there,” he purrs, his radio a silent static, his back to you.

“Saw the shadows move,” you answer coolly. Technically a lie, but you weren’t about to tell him that you could feel his presence before he entered a room, that you could feel his shadow follow you.

Alastor spun, his eyes narrowing on your form, kicking the butterflies in your stomach into a flurry. God, his eyes. They glowed red, like crystals in a fire. A fire that ignited something foreign within you.

The double doors behind you slammed shut causing you to jump.

And then they locked.

You were alone, alone, and trapped with the Radio Demon and one of Hell’s finest Overlords.

He takes a step towards you, his microphone slipping into the Void as his eyes, half-lidded, slowly slide over your form. The gesture, so simple, had you frozen in place where you stood. His pupils constricted, his smile curling, you watched as Alastor transformed into the predator he was born to be. Like a prey before its kill, he honed in on you, identifying you as prey.

You pull your hands behind your back, threading your fingers so he doesn’t see them shake so he can’t see just how much power his gaze alone had over you.

He takes another step, still ten feet away yet so, so close.

You take an imperceptibly small step back.

Why are you so nervous right now? It’s just the Radio Demon. This man is not a threat. He’s just a Human Sinner.

He takes another.

Shit.

His smile deepens, sensing the hesitation, the worry, the anxiety building in your chest.

Was it getting harder to breathe in here?

You force your lips into a thin line, force your body to stand ramrod straight. You will not back down. Overlord or not, you will not let him win this game of intimidation. You were a fucking god down here in Hell. The Radio Demon didn’t know it, couldn’t know it, your entire plan rode on him never knowing it, so why was every instinct in your body screaming at you to not back down? To not play the powerless victim you were supposed to be?

Alastor thought you a mouse and he a cat, but he was oh-so wrong. You were a fucking lion. You were an…

In one breath the Radio Demon closes the distance, stopping a foot away from you, your toes barely brushing his shoes. The demon was close enough that you could smell the rye on his breath; the liquor washed over you and made your toes curl. Of course, he drank something so sophisticated. Not vodka; not rum; but a dark liquor that burned on the way down. Like the fire in your veins.

He wasn’t drunk, perhaps just a nightcap? He didn’t seem like the type who ever got drunk. Getting drunk would leave one vulnerable and would leave one weak. Alastor would never allow that. He cared too much for his appearance.

You go very very still as he reaches a hand out to you, his eyes suddenly captivated with your cheek. The tip of his claw tickles your skin, drawing a gasp from your lips, sucking the breath from your lungs and kicking your heart into a beat so loud you couldn’t hear anything else but its pounding in your ears.

Crimson fire ignites behind Alastor’s eyes, his smile curling at the tips as his hand dances to a stray strand of hair. Shivers explode down your spine as he tucks it behind your ear, pausing to appreciate your neck. His eyes hone in on your jugular, almost as if he could see the blood rushing through your veins, almost as if he could taste it.

The demon licks his lips drawing your eyes to his perfectly shaped mouth, to the sharp teeth behind it. What would it feel like to have those razor-sharp canines sink into your flesh? To allow Alastor a taste of the blood pumping through your veins?

A moment of clarity suddenly hit you at the sudden realization of just how much control you had lost. To allow Alastor to taste you? What were you doing?

Swat his hand away. Bite his head off. Stab him in the gut. Eviscerate him where he stands. Kill...

The demon pulls you away from your thoughts as his finger moves south to your collarbone, eliciting a blush across your cheeks and igniting a warmth in your belly that traveled down, pooling between your legs.

There it was again, that scent wafting through the room. The same scent you smelled off of Vox in the alley. You had never smelled something so sweet from a demon before - like warm vanilla heating on a stove. Yet now, it was coming from you.

Something at the periphery of your power shifts. Like a second presence has joined yours, you try to think but your mind grows numb as Alastor’s dances across your collarbone. Delicately, so as not to draw blood, he follows it to the dip at the base of your neck. You swallow dryly and watch as Alastor’s eyes follow your throat’s bob.

The demon pauses, a question swimming behind his eyes before he slowly - oh-so painfully slowly - wraps his hand around your throat.

God-be-damned, you have never had another creature’s hand at your throat, and God-be-damned if you didn’t enjoy it.

The demon squeezed, not enough to cut off your air supply, but just enough to send your mind spinning. A small moan escapes your lips. Alastor’s eyes shot to yours, a look of surprise filled them before they darkened. His smile shifted into that of a lopsided grin, a smirk of satisfaction.

And then you feel it.

You shove Alastor away from you, your mind sobering at the realization of what the Radio Demon was trying to do.

You both pause for a moment, trying to catch your breath, before the demon takes a bow. “Goodnight, Ms. Thestral.” The shadows swallow him whole.

You wait until you can't feel his presence anymore before you bang your head against the wall and scream. “Fuck!”

It was all a big FUCKING distraction! He was prodding you to read your soul - to read your power. Just like you had tried to do that day he battled Sir Pentious. And you had caught him. He didn’t get far, but your reaction confirmed everything for him.

He knew you had power.

He knew you were a threat.

And he knew you wouldn’t back down easily.

You were fucked.

Link to Chapter Four

Masterlist Link: Masterlist

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