#Me getting on my hands and knees in front of the doctor: Please. FIX me

[shima-draws]

I'm FINALLY getting an MRI to figure out what the FUCK is wrong with me 🎉

[heavenlybodies333]

The Vest Stays On -S.R

Spencer Reid x coworker!reader | secret relationship |

The first time you saw Spencer Reid in the tactical vest, it short-circuited your entire nervous system.

It happened during a joint task force case with SWAT, just outside of Portland. You were half-caffeinated, bloodied from crawling through brambles to get a GPS fix on a suspect’s last drop point, and very much not expecting to be visually assaulted at seven-thirty in the morning. But then he stepped out of the SUV, FBI gear snug around his narrow chest, the black straps cinching in just right, the embroidered letters bright against the navy blue. Hair tousled. Glock holstered.

And you? Useless. Every neuron in your brain screamed: climb him.

You weren’t the only one who noticed. Morgan had laughed when you choked on your water. JJ had side-eyed you when you pretended to stare at the street signs just to avoid looking at Spencer’s chest. “That’s the fifth time you’ve looked,” Emily mutters under her breath beside you, handing over her report.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh please,” she snorts. “You’ve been ogling Reid like he’s the last glass of water in the desert.”

And Hotch—of course Hotch—was the only one oblivious, laser-focused on briefing SWAT while the rest of the team collectively ignored how suddenly, unfairly hot Dr. Spencer Reid looked in tactical gear.

Which brings you to now. Because apparently the BAU’s got a knack for hotel fuck-ups. There’s only one room left tonight, and surprise—it's yours and Spencer's. Two twin beds, one broken thermostat, and five days into a case that’s frayed both of your nerves to ribbons.

And Reid? He’s still wearing the damn vest.

It’s past midnight. You’re in a tank top and boyshorts, pacing in front of the single working AC unit like it’s your job. Spencer’s sitting stiffly on the edge of his bed, hands on his knees, posture impeccable—like he’s trying not to look at you. Like the thought of you in so little isn’t killing him. It’s mutual.

“I can take the floor if you want,” he offers.

You raise a brow. “Why? Scared I’ll kick in my sleep?”

“No,” he says quickly. “I just—I figured you’d be more comfortable. With space.”

You stop in front of him. Your eyes drift to the vest. It’s still zipped up, snug over his chest, the collar slightly popped against the base of his throat. “You gonna sleep in that thing?” you ask, stepping into his space. “Or is it permanently fused to your body now?”

He swallows. “I was—I didn’t want to—I didn’t think—”

“I don’t think I ever told you,” you interrupt, running your hand through his hair, “how unfairly hot this vest is.”

“I-I got that impression.”

You grin. “You know what I want?”

His breath hitches. “What?”

You lean in close, your mouth brushing his jaw as your fingers trail over the vest’s chest straps. “I want you to fuck me in it.”

With a firm hand, you shove him backward onto the mattress. He goes willingly, vest thudding softly against the cheap polyester sheets. You climb over him, knees straddling his hips, your fingers curling around the edge of the vest to anchor yourself. You roll your hips down, slow and deliberate, grinding against him. He groans.

“Tell me something, Doctor,” you murmur, tugging at one of the black buckles. “Statistically speaking, how many times can someone come in a single night?”

He chokes on a laugh—half arousal, half disbelief. “I—uh—five to six, depending on... variables.”

You smirk. “Let’s test that hypothesis, shall we?” He grips your hips tight. You grind against the hard line of him through his slacks and he groans—a soft, helpless sound that goes straight to your core.

Spencer kisses you again—slower this time, purposeful—then pulls your arms above your head. He grabs his belt from where it hangs on the bedpost and uses it to bind your wrists, leather tight but not painful.

“You move,” he murmurs, “and you don’t come.”

Your thighs squeeze together, aching. “What if I beg?”

“You can beg all you want.” He leans down, lips brushing your collarbone. “I like the sound of it.”

He trails kisses down your chest, nips at the waistband of your shorts. His hands skim your thighs, teasing, torturously slow. He drops his gaze to your boyshorts, now pushed aside, and hums softly under his breath like he’s filing away the image for later. You arch involuntarily when he strokes a thumb across your clit, featherlight. Just enough to make you crave more.

“You’re already so wet,” he murmurs. “Is it the vest?”

You whimper. “Spencer…”

He tilts his head, mock-serious. “Is that a yes?”

“Yes. God. Yes.”

“Noted.” He leans down and kisses the inside of your thigh, slow and indulgent. You twitch in his hold, desperate for friction, but he tuts. “I said don’t move.”

You nearly whine. “You’re torturing me.”

“I’m teasing you,” he corrects, licking another maddening stripe up your center. “Big difference. Trust me—I’ve done the research.”

You buck your hips before you can stop yourself. Spencer freezes. You feel his breath against your skin, just before he pulls away entirely. “No,” you plead, straining against the belt.

He raises a brow, expression cool behind the heat in his eyes. “I warned you.”

“Spencer, please—”

He slides back up your body until he’s straddling your hips and fuck, he’s so hard. The fabric catches on the outline of his cock as he pushes them down just enough to free himself. He doesn’t bother undressing further. The vest stays on, snug against his frame, and you can see his chest rising with each breath.

He fists himself once, twice—lining himself up with you—and then pauses, cock pressed at your entrance. Sliding it up and through your wet slick before slowly pushing in. You moan—loud, wrecked, your head tipping back against the pillow. He’s big and slow about it, pushing in deep and staying there, letting you feel every inch of him.

You whine under him, tugging instinctively at the belt binding your wrists. “Spence baby please—”

He groans deep in his chest and leans down, the hard ridge of his vest pressing tight against your nipples, the friction causing you to whimper.

“Yeah?” He thrusts harder. “You like the vest?”

You nod wildly. “God, yes.”

“I’ll wear it every day if you want.” You laugh—breathy, desperate—then cry out as he hits just the right spot.

The headboard slams into the wall. You both freeze. From the hallway, a door slams. Spencer presses his forehead to yours, panting. “We’re gonna get caught,” you whisper. He thrusts again. Hard. “Not if you stay quiet.”

You bite your lip. He watches, transfixed. “Be good for me,” he whispers. “Stay quiet. Let me fuck you like this.”

Your eyes roll back. You’re going to come, and he knows it—knows by the way your hips stutter, how your fingers curl into the Velcro on his chest.

“God, you feel good,” he groans against your jaw. Spencer doesn't stop—grinds you through it, cock buried deep, watching you like you're unraveling every scientific principle he’s ever believed in.

“Fuck,” he pants, low and harsh. “You’re so—God—”

You feel him start to lose rhythm, hips jerking erratically. “Inside,” you manage to gasp. “Come in me. Please.”

He groans your name, deep and broken, and spills into you, hips stuttering through the aftershocks as his head drops to your shoulder. You feel it—hot and thick and endless.

When he finally lifts his head, you’re still trying to catch your breath. He brushes damp hair from your forehead and presses a kiss there, soft and startlingly tender.

“You okay?” he asks, voice hoarse.

You tug weakly at your wrists. “Untie me before I find a way to punish you.”

Spencer grins—actually grins—as he reaches for the belt. “Promise?”

You narrow your eyes. “That’s a dangerous game, Doctor.”

He drops the belt to the floor and pulls you into his chest, arms winding around you, vest rough and warm against your cheek. You settle there, content and fucked-out, and sigh.

“You know,” he says, absently running a thumb over your thigh, “in the Victorian era, women were diagnosed with ‘hysteria’ when they experienced… symptoms like yours.”

You lift your head. “Symptoms like what? Being feral for their boyfriend in tactical gear?”

He nods earnestly. “Exactly. Increased heart rate, flushing, rapid breathing, erratic behavior. The prescription was often—well, manual stimulation. Administered by physicians. It’s where the invention of the vibrator comes from.”

You gape at him. “Spencer.”

He shrugs, still tracing nonsense patterns on your thigh. “Just a historical fun fact.”

“You are the weirdest, hottest person I’ve ever met.”

“That’s not mutually exclusive, you know,” he murmurs, bending down to kiss the corner of your mouth. “Intelligence and arousal activate adjacent neural circuits in the limbic system. That’s why people find brains sexy. It’s science.”

“You’re science,” you mumble, tilting your head. “So. Statistically, how long is the average refractory period for men your age?”

He flushes, then smiles like he’s being challenged. “Well, the median is about fifteen minutes. But there’s a huge variation depending on stimulation, emotional connection, hormone levels—”

“So we could test the upper limits of that, is what I’m hearing.”

He pauses, eyes darkening. “Do you want to?”

You lean forward and kiss the corner of his mouth, your voice honey-sweet and dangerous. “Only if you keep the vest on.”

He practically groans. “God, you’re gonna kill me.”

And it’s only round two.

a/n: raw raw rawwww

⋆•★⋆ MASTERLIST ⋆★•⋆

[forever-rogue]

Trouble

AN | Hello, I'm here to fix it. It never happened. Joel is back in Jackson. Enjoy💕

Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader 

Warnings | Canon typical injury

Word Count | 2.6k

Masterlist | Joel, Main 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You were covered in dirt, blood, and gunk but none of that mattered in the moment. What mattered was that no matter how bruised and worn down you felt, you were alive. You had survived, Jackson had survived…everything would be okay.

Dragging yourself up off the ground, you spotted Tommy and Maria up ahead. A sigh of relief escaped your lips as you slowly made your way towards them, helping any stragglers along your way. It was going to take a while to recover from this disaster, but at least you knew things would get better. And, if anything, you now had more knowledge on the enemy and their…abilities for lack of a better word.

Brushing some blood and dirt off your face, you spotted Ellie getting off her horse just up ahead. Thank fuck.

They were all okay. Everything was fine. Ellie, Jesse, Dina, and Joel were back. 

You ran as fast as you could which, given the state you were in wasn't very fast, ready to make your way to them. It was more of a limping skip as you made your way over.

“Tommy! Ellie!” You shouted over the wind, waving your arm to get their attention. When they heard you and finally turned around, you were met with a sea of grim faces. Your stomach dropped; they should be happy. If not happy, at least not so grim. Right? When you finally got to them, you realized that you didn’t see Joel. You immediately knew something was very wrong, “where's Joel?”

Ellie opened and closed her mouth a few times, fresh tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Where's Joel?” you asked again, swallowing the lump in your throat. You turned to Tommy and saw that the look on his face mirrored the one on Ellie's. In fact, no one looked happy, “Tommy. Where's Joel?”

“Listen-” 

“Where is he!?” You demand again, tears welling up in your own eyes. Tommy put his hand on your shoulder and held onto it firmly, “T-Tommy. Where is he?”

“He's at Kat's,” he finally said, his own voice shaking as he tried to keep it together, “he's…he's not doing well.”

You choked out a sob before turning on your heel and running towards Kat's house. Your own body was screaming in pain but none of that mattered in the moment. All you could think about was getting to Joel. That was the only thing that mattered. 

You burst through the front door of the house, lungs on fire as you headed towards the stairs. You took a moment to catch your breath, clutching the stitch in your side, “Kat? Kat!”

You started up the stairs, Kat meeting you at the top with a grim expression on her face. She was a kind, older woman that always had a way of making you feel better no matter the circumstances. She was a good doctor.

She took your face in her hands before sighing softly and pulling you in for a hug. You clutched onto her tightly, fearful for what she was going to say to you. When you pulled apart, she brushed some dirt off your clothes, “I'm going to have a look at you next.”

“There's other people that need your help more than I do,” you insisted, “where's Joel? I-I need to see him. Please.”

“Look,” she gave your hand a squeeze, “he's lucky to be alive. I hate to say that, I do. But he's lucky Ellie and Jesse found him when they did.”

“What happened?” You were reeling from her words; the idea of losing Joel was unbearable, “tell me. Please.”

“Seems like some people he made enemies of a long time back found him,” she sighed, “and they had some sort of vendetta against him.”

You couldn't wait any longer and gently pushed past her and into the room where you knew he'd be. As soon as you opened the door, you stopped in your tracks when you found him on the bed. You let out a shaky breath as you dropped to your knees by his side, “oh my god. Joel.”

“He can't hear you,” Kat followed in after you, grim look on her face, “he's out. He's gonna be out for a while.”

“What did they do to him?” His face was bruised and there were remnants of dried blood all over him. He looked so pale that it made your stomach drop. It took you a moment of notice that his leg was completely bandaged up.

“Shot in the side, his leg was broken badly. Ellie said…there was a girl beating him with a golf club before resorting to using her fists. He's got some broken ribs and lost a lot of blood. He's going to be a while before he's up and able to get, let alone get around.”

“But he'll-”

“There's no swelling in his brain and his lungs sound clear. He's past the absolute worst but he's not out of the woods just yet,” you hated that she wouldn't just confirm that he'd make it, “but its Joel. You know he's not going to give up fighting.”

“What can I do?” You asked, voice cracking as tears blurred your vision, “anything. Whatever it takes.”

“There's not much you can do right now. Its just going to take time,” she whispered, “take care of yourself. And the others. Things will be alright.”

“Will they?” You plopped onto the ground and reached for his hand; it was cold and stiff, “I can't…I can't lose him. I just can't.”

“We'll do everything we can do,” she promised, “we just have to be patient.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Here,” Tommy's voice pulled you of your stupor as he walked in and held a hot cup of tea out to you, “our mama used to say that there wasn't anything a cup of tea couldn't fix.”

“Thanks,” you clutched the warm mug in your cold, tired hands as you stared at the golden liquid. You stretched, your body tired and aching from the stiff wooden chair that had basically become your second home. You'd been camped out by his side, refusing to move unless absolutely necessary. You’d cleaned him up as best as you could but he still looked so…fragile. Broken.

“You can leave you know,” he said as you looked at him incredulously, “you can rest and take time for yourself. You ain't going to be helping anyone by not making sure you're okay.”

“I don't want to leave him,” you sighed, looking Joel over. It had been almost two weeks, and while he seemed to be healing, he still wasn't up and conscious, “what if he wakes up and I'm not here? O-or something happens?”

Tommy let out a low sigh as he looked forlornly at his older brother, “I keep thinking the same thing. But you know if anything happens, someone will get you right away.”

“Yeah,” you sipped the warm liquid and closed your eyes for a moment. You knew this was just hard for him and Ellie, “what happened to her? The girl?”

“She got away,” he gritted his teeth, “for now. We'll find her.”

“I keep thinking I want to go out there and kill her myself,” you whispered, reaching over and gently brushing a rogue lock of hair out of Joel's face, “that I want her to suffer as much as he did, or worse.”

“But…”

“Nothing excuses what she did,” you whispered, “but I can't imagine doing that to another living being. It makes us no better than them. But at the time I don't know if I care about that.”

“Its hard,” he agreed.

“It is,” you took his hand in yours, “I don't know what to do. For now, I just want him to be okay.”

“He's a stubborn old fool. He's not going to leave us that easily.”

“Promise?” Your voice was quiet and you weren't even sure you'd intended for him to hear it. Tommy nodded as offered him a small smile in return, “you better hurry up and get better soon, old man. Can't believe I'm saying this, but I miss your grumpy old face.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Time seemed slower than it ever did before as you remained by Joel's side. A few more days had passed and as much as you wanted to remain hopeful, you had to admit it was hard to. While his pallor returned and the dark bruising faded to green and yellow, he hadn't woken up. You never thought you could miss someone so much when they were right next to you. 

“You know,” you had moved onto the bed, laying on the edge to be close to him without hurting him further, “I remember when we first met after I got here. It was kind of like this then too, except I wasn't hurt as bad. One of the first things you said to me was that you knew I was going to be a pain in your ass. Turns out you were right, but I could say the same about you.”

The room was silent, filled only with the combined sounds of your soft breathing. You tentatively reached out a hand and traced your fingertips along his side, barely a ghost of a touch.

“I miss you, you know,” you continued, “I always miss you when you're gone, even if its only a few hours, but this is so much worse. Its like you're right here but a million miles away. I want you to come back to me soon. We're all waiting for you. Ellie misses you so much too. She saved you, you know. She never hated you, which I think you know deep down. She loves you, you'll always be her Joel. I love you. So much.”

You laid there until you fell asleep, only moonlight filtering in. You weren't sure how much long your heart could handle this.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was going on three weeks and you were still a wreck as much as the first day. You were growing impatient and tired and angry, and a million other emotions.

“You know I hate to ask you to leave but can you give Maria a hand with some stuff at the stables?” You looked at Tommy and glanced at Joel before nodding. He hadn't woken up yet, and at this you weren't sure when he would. It was probably fine to be gone for a few hours.

“Of course,” you stood up, giving Joel one last look before heading out. You'd be back soon enough.

It was a few hours of some back breaking labor that you were finally able to take a moment to breathe. There was still so much left to do to rebuild Jackson, and as reluctant as you had been to leave Joel, you were happy for the work that had taken all of your attention.

You heard your name being shouted from the distance and looked over to Benji running towards you with Tommy running after him. You exchanged a look with Maria and bent down to scoop him up in your arms.

“Hey kiddo, what's got you so excited?” 

“Uncle Joel,” he started simply, a big gap toothed smile on his face. Your heart stopped for a moment as you looked over to Tommy, who had managed to catch up.

“Tommy?” You tried to keep the excitement out of your face, “is he…?”

“He's awake,” he confirmed, “just woke up.”

“Oh my god,” you gently set him down and ran off without another word. You figured they'd understand.

You burst into the house and ran upstairs and into his room, chest heaving from the exertion. Kat raised an eyebrow at you but there was a smile pulling on the corners of her mouth, “just in time.”

“Joel?” Kat stepped out of the way and slipped out of the room to give the two of you some privacy.

And there he was; still looking worse for the wear but sat up in the bed and fully conscious. It might have been the most beautiful sight you had ever seen.

“Hey trouble,” his voice was dry and raspy but hearing him immediately brought tears to your eyes.

“Joel,” you took a few tentative steps towards him, part of you refusing to believe this was real. He moved his hand to reach out for you, “you're…you're…I thought I was going to lose you.”

“You can't get rid of me that easily,” his laugh turned into a cough and you handed him the glass of water that was by his bedside.

“Take it easy old man,” you joked through your tears, finally happy ones, as you sat next to him on the bed, “don't need you to hurt yourself now.”

He smiled at you, putting his hand on top of yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze, “you were here. The whole time.”

“Where else would I be?” You sniffled as he reached up and wiped your tears away. You put your hand on top of his and held it gently against your cheek.

“Preferably out living life,” he stroked his thumb over your skin, “not worrying about me.”

You studied him, taking in the brown eyes you'd missed so much. He was definitely far from recovered but he was here and he was alive. That was enough for now.

You gently took his hand off your face and took his face in your hands. You frowned at the bruising that was lingering but you knew it'd be gone soon enough. Before you could stop yourself, you leaned in and pressed your lips against his, kissing him as softly and tenderly as possible. With a relieved sigh, you touched your forehead against his, “I don't think I could ever stay away.”

“You know I'm never going to leave you,” he whispered as you nodded.

“I love you,” you promised, “even if you are a stubborn grump.”

“I love you too, trouble,” he shifted over gently before patting the same next to him, “c'mere.”

“I don't want to hurt you,” he scoffed and you kicked off your boots before getting into the bed next to him, slowly to make sure you didn't cause him any pain. You laid down and rested your head on his good leg, letting out a slow, deep breath. Joel started gently playing your hair, causing tingles to shoot through your entire body. You hadn't realized how much you missed his touch, “you should lie down too. You need the rest.”

“So do you,” he insisted, grinning as you yawned, “you've been here the whole time watching me, let me take care of you.”

“Only if you lie down with me and we both stay here for a while,” you insisted, turning your face to look up at him.

“I suppose,” he shifted with a grimace but was able to get himself comfortable next to you, draping an arm around your waist and pulling you against him, “you alright?”

“Better than I have been in weeks,” you turned so you were facing him, “I was scared that we'd never get to do this again. That I'd never see you again. That you would be gone…”

“Oh trouble,” he whispered, “that's never going to happen. Okay?”

“Okay,” you agreed, “I'm going to hold you to that, Miller.”

“I'd expect nothing less, trouble.”

[highvern]

Beggin' On My Knees

Pairing: Kwon Soonyoung x f!reader

Genre: fluff, smut, hint of angst, established relationship, biker! hoshi

warnings: pregnancy, impreg/breeding kink, fingering, oral sex (f. receiving), nipple play, unprotected sex, praise kink, body worship, spitting, praise kink

Length: ~8k

Note: inspired by the Please, Please, Please MV. this was originally an idea for taehyung but alas my top freak took over again. something about biker/mechanic hoshi really is beautiful thank u @tomodachiii @haologram and @gyuswhore for keeping me sane

summary: After another run in with the law, you come to terms with the fact your friends might be right about your fiancé.

m.list

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.

Even at your age, it’s somehow more embarrassing to buy pregnancy tests than condoms. You wouldn’t know since you’ve never bought condoms. That particular responsibility falls exclusively on your fiance after the few times in college when you snagged handfuls from the bucket inside the campus clinic.

You’ve bought a pregnancy test before. Not for yourself but for friends too embarrassed to walk into the pharmacy and publicly declare how active their sex lives were. Now you understand why they wanted someone else to do it. Why are there twenty different brands? Why do they require some high school employee to unlock the case so you can pick the one you want? Why are they so damn expensive? The anxiety you feel rivals the first time you bought weed sophomore year of college from some sleazy frat boy.

You’ve got the box resting on the bathroom counter, a timer on your phone, and the test just out of sight while you pace back and forth in the small space. The door is shut for no other reason than to isolate away from Soonyoung in the event he gets off work early.

You should call Soonyoung. He’d want to know, fight the urge to say something stupid like “I’ll try harder next time” when the tests come back negative and instead offer to pee on one in solidarity if only to lighten the mood.

You never understood when people say a woman just knows until right now because with each passing second the reality that those tests are going to be positive sink in. Despite the fact you and Soonyoung almost always use a condom and the times without them end with him coming anywhere not inside you. You just know it.

Each second ticks down like a bomb waiting to detonate.

Positive. Positive. Positive.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Your stomach twists.  Surprisingly, you don’t dread it as much as you would have a year ago. But a million things a baby entails rush over you. Cleaning out the spare room upstairs, doctors appointments, daycare, clothes, school. Do you even know how to actually take care of a kid? One that belongs to you, who you can’t give back to their person when they get fussy or hurt.

Soonyoung was born to be a dad. He never hid how badly he wanted a family of his own, a family with you. He’s good with kids too. You’ve seen him with his nieces and nephews, your friends’ kids. The middle schoolers in your neighborhood come to him with broken bikes and scooters to be fixed, knock on your front door to ask if he can help them get their ball down from some tree. Even if he doesn't know what he’s doing he’d be there by your side.

As the initial shock washes away, the knots in your chest slowly unfurl. You can do this. Even though you planned your life down to the last detail, Soonyoung has a way of sweeping you into his tide. Engagement, marriage, house, babies. In that order. You’ve already got the house before he asked you to marry him and your wedding is only a month away. 

After the worst of the panic settles into restless jitters, you leave the solitude of the bathroom. Soonyoung still isn’t home from work yet but it isn’t unusual. He’s been pulling more hours, shouldering more responsibilities since Mr. Lee, the owner, hinted at a promotion. Glancing at the clock, you guess he’ll walk through the door in two hours which gives you plenty of time to put together something to surprise him.

After a long shower, you burn time by cleaning up non-existent messes; you can’t sit still. The ‘surprise’ ends up being lackluster. Your weekly grocery shopping trip is tomorrow so the fridge is slim pickings for dinner and you make the executive decision to go out once Soonyoung is home. Some fancy restaurant neither of you can afford with tiny dishes designed to leave you hungry and stopping at the diner at the edge of town for a burger. 

While the noise from the TV hums in the background, you scroll through internet searches on what to do when expecting. Doctors appointments, blood tests, advice on budgeting. It’s information overload but you’re giddy even with the stress.. Then you see it. A screenshot from one of your friends. No words, just a photo. 

“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

The longer you stare the quicker the realization becomes a reality. Soonyoung, your Soonyoung, the Soonyoung you’ve been waiting to get home, the reason for three positive pregnancy tests still on the bathroom counter, stares back. Or his mugshot does. A proud stain on the town jail’s website for everyone to see.

Storming out of the house, you notice Jeonghan’s car is gone from his own driveway. Hopefully he’s given your fiance an earful at the station already. If not, you’ve got plenty to say.

Whatever giddy happiness possessed you earlier is long gone, rotten disgust taking its place. How stupid do you look waiting for him at home while he’s gone and gotten himself locked up?

That stupid bike.

It isn’t the first time. That was the initial appeal back when you were a doe eyed freshman, finally out from under your parents thumb with more freedom than you knew how to handle. Soonyoung was the stereotypical bad boy with a taste for fast cars, working in a garage to your good girl persona who set the curve in all her classes. A few drinks at a run down dive bar landed you on his bike in some back alley, a hand under your skirt while he whispered the nastiest things you’ve ever heard. Then you returned the favor back at his apartment, riding him with enough vigor the headboard slapping against the wall sent his neighbors into a fit.

Then came the routine of Soonyoung picking you up from your dorms late at night, staying out until sunrise doing who knows what. He showed you off at street races, called you his girl in front of friends, and would take you out to the lake after winning a race and make you feel like a winner too. 

It was fun. 

Until the calls he’d been out street racing again wore down your patience as your friends’ giddy curiosity turned to embarrassment and ‘I told you so’s. It wasn’t enough to break your heart, but it tore your ego to shreds. They called him a loser and you defended him time and time again because you loved him. Because he promised it wouldn’t happen again.

He promised the last time was the last time. The time before that was also the last time and the time before and so on. 

The parking lot of the police station is nearly empty this time of day; a few police cars and a handful of other vehicles. Otherwise, it sits deserted. 

Jeognhan is waiting for you at the front desk, pretending to type away at something on the computer but you know better. You’ve done this song and dance too many times. 

“What the fuck did he do this time?” 

He quirks an eyebrow, sliding a clipboard with the usual paperwork your way as he speaks. “What do you think?” 

You nearly rip through the paper from pressing the pen so hard as you sign. “You’re fucking kidding me.” 

“Ma’am, language,” a young officer warns.

You’ve never seen him before and the stern look on his face pisses you off even more. His eyes widen in what must be fear because he scrambles back to the filing cabinet at the back of the room without speaking. “I didn’t know you had a new bitch, Han.” 

Jeonghan takes his clipboard back before you can whack him with it. “Nope, that's still your fiancé. Chan, go get Soonyoung from the box.” 

“Tell him I’ve got a hammer in the car for his balls,” you call. 

“Please refrain from making threats inside the police station.”

Soonyoung has the sense to look afraid when he rounds the corner. He’s still in his work clothes, oil stained shirt and dirty coveralls, hair matted to his forehead. You can only imagine what he sees. Last time you picked up he’d still been drunk from a bar fight and you made him sleep on the porch with Jeonghan’s engine as an alarm clock. You’d been too tired to make threats, half asleep the entire time. This time, you feel on the verge of crying, throwing up, and exploding into a fiery rage.

You don’t wait for him while Jeonghan hands over the bag of Soonyoung’s belongings. Halfway to the car, he races to catch up without a word and goes as far as rushing ahead to open the driver's door for you. There’s a fraction of a second you contemplate speeding off before he can get into the passenger seat, let him walk home in the dark as punishment for being a dumbass. But you don’t. You want to yell at him for being a dumbass until your throat bleeds.

The car smells like motor oil and sweat with him so close in the passenger seat. You gag at the stench, rolling all the windows down to avoid vomiting. The last thing you want right now is to need him.

Under usual circumstances the silence hanging heavy in the air would be comfortable, familiar and warm with the golden hue of the sunset and the sound of cicadas not far off. The world holds its breath, but you don’t.

“Do you know how embarrassing it is to find out you got arrested from someone sending me your mugshot?” you ask at the first red light. Soonyoung tries to answer but you cut him off. “No, you don’t. Because I’d never put you in that position.”

He grumbles out the window. “Yeah, yeah, I get it. You’re better than me.”

“You think I’m pissed because I think I’m better than you? I’m pissed because you act like a fucking loser. I’m pissed because you’re a liar! You promised me you wouldn’t do this dumb shit anymore. YOU PROMISED ME. And I look like an idiot because I’m stupid enough to trust you.”

You wait for an excuse. Some honeyed platitude about how much he loves you and it being a mistake and how it’ll never happen again but Soonyoung offers nothing. 

“What do you want me to say?” he asks.

You scoff. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t.”

“Clearly!” you shriek, the vein in your neck throbbing. “Do you know how it feels to have my friends send me your mugshot? I’m at home tearing my hair out and you’re street racing some kid for kicks.”

“He wasn’t a kid—” 

“I don’t give a fuck!” The edges of your vision scorch red, teeth gnashing. You’ve never been this angry with him. You’ve never been this angry, period. “Grow up!”

He’s lucky Jeonghan caught him and not one of the other officers hell bent on cleaning up the streets. He’s lucky you didn’t have to front bail money neither of you have, especially now. Instead of spending the weekend in jail, Soonyoung’s punishment is fixing whatever Jeonghan sends his way for the next month free of charge but it’s not enough, not even close.

The kill shot bubbles on the tip of your tongue but that last bit of self control keeps it under lock and key. This isn’t how you thought you’d tell him, nowhere close to the way the evening happened in your head before you saw that picture. You wanted to surprise him. Watch the way the news sunk in slowly then all at once. You remember the test you left on the kitchen counter for him to find when he got home before everything went to shit. The ember of rage flairs back to life.

“You wanna race so bad, go fetch!” You don’t think as you rip the keys to that cursed bike from his hands and chuck them out the window into the grassy median, gone in a flash. It’s only a temporary solution but it feels good. It’s the next best thing to taking a bat to his bike until there’s nothing salvageable.

Soonyoung sputters. “Are you crazy?” 

Maybe. You’re absolutely toeing the line of unhinged. The car skids to a stop, tires burning against the asphalt. Thankfully the road is clear of any traffic.

“Get out,” you demand.

“What?”

“Get out. Get out, get out, get out!” You repeat the words over and over until he does what you tell him to. You feel the suffocating tightness in your chest signaling tears are seconds away. 

“Baby, let's talk about this,” Soonyoung begs. He tries to reach through the window, he knows your weak spots too well. You snatch your hand away before he can take advantage.

“You can have this back!” You launch the diamond band right at his chest before taking off.

You get back home on autopilot. There are red lights and stop signs and other traffic laws you can’t remember if you followed but you’re in the driveway and barreling up the porch with shaky breaths. Guilt doesn’t cross your mind for a second. Soonyoung didn’t feel guilty for racing like a dumbass until he got caught, so why should you feel guilty for letting him deal with the consequences? 

The urge to do something mean, not just mean but hurtful with the intent of seeing Soonyoung sick to his stomach, rears its head. If that’s what you wanted then mission accomplished. He saved for a year to buy that ring and you threw it in his face like it was nothing but cheap plastic. The ire from earlier rushes out of you like a deflating balloon. Your fingers itch for a cigarette but unlike your now ex fiance, you have to cut out all your vices. There’s no relief in pacing back and forth. There won’t be any solace inside the house either. You’re so tired. All the highs and lows of the day have drained you of everything. You don’t want to be mad or sad or anything anymore. You just want to go to bed and sleep off the entire day. 

You want to leave but you don’t. You want to yell some more but Soonyoung will be at least another hour. There’s nothing to anxiously clean while waiting so you water the crispy plants on the porch while you wait.

Jeonghan’s cruiser pulls into his driveway across the street thirty minutes later. Still no sign of Soonyoung, not a missed call or text. You think to worry but he gets out of Jeonghan’s passenger seat and trudges your way.

He looks angry and tired. But your swollen eyes and splotchy face melts the furrow in his brows.

“I’m—”

You silence him with a blast from the water hose. Soonyoung takes his punishment like a man, standing completely still while you douse him from head to toe. 

“I deserve that. Please, just listen to me—” He’s silent with another stream aimed at his chest. You feel some validation seeing him embody the way you feel: pathetic. 

“Will you put the hose down so we can talk about this?”

“I don’t want to talk to you,” you huff, dropping the hose for him to clean up.

“Then I’ll talk and you listen.”

“No.” You head towards the door with no intention of letting Soonyoung inside. “Go sleep at Jeonghan’s, I don’t wanna be around you right now.”

“He already told me no.”

Jeonghan would take mercy on Soonyoung in this state; soaked to the bone with your engagement ring in his pocket.

You turn to face him. “I want you to get rid of your bike.”

Soonyoung stays at the foot of the stairs leading up the porch. He knows how you feel and he has the sense to look ashamed.

“You want me to sell Tammy?” he asks.

“I want Tammy to fall off a cliff into the abyss but that’s obviously not going to happen,” you seethe, blinking away more frustrated tears.

“I have a lot of good memories with Tammy.”

“What? The first time you got arrested? Or the time you fell off and broke your arm? Oh, I know! When you ended up in a ditch?”

“The time I asked you to be my girlfriend. And the time I won enough money to help put a down payment on the house. When—“

“It’s me or her.”

Does it feel juvenile giving your fiance an ultimatum between you and a godforsaken bike? Absolutely. But you’ve got a kid to think about now and the thought of Soonyoung missing their life because he’s too busy chasing the rush makes you sick.

“It’s you.” Soonyoung says it with finality but you don’t believe him.

“Then prove it.”

“I’ll do anything.”

“Sell it. First thing tomorrow morning.”

He laughs bitterly. “I’m not selling my bike.”

“Then I’ll be sure to tell your kid their dad is a fucking loser.” 

He blinks like the words don’t fully set in but your back is already to him by the time they do. Locked inside the house, you lean back against the door. You don’t want him to hear the crack of breath in your throat breaking into hot, wet tears. 

“What do you mean my kid?” Soonyoung’s panicked voice comes through the door. “YN! Open the door!”

“Go away.”

His whispered curses slip through the door while he scrambles for the spare key hidden in the potted plant by the door. If you really wanted him locked out, you would’ve remembered to move it before he got home. Part of you does want him stuck as far away as possible. You don’t want to face him because you know he’ll kiss your tears away and that’s all you want right now. You want him to hold you, promise you everything will be okay.

The lock of the bedroom door clicks into place right as Soonyoung gets the front door open. You hear him downstairs, looking for where you’re hidden. You can plot his course in your head: straight through the living into the kitchen where one of the positive tests waits to greet him on the counter, then he comes racing up the stairs and outside the door.

He twists the doorknob with no success. “YN.”

“Go away,” you sniffle into the pillow. His pillow. You’re on his side of the bed, in one of his old shirts because even if you wish you hated him.  

A dull thud against the door and a sigh signals his departure. You hear him shuffling back downstairs, but the sound of the front door never comes. The fatigue of the day takes over swiftly. Surrounded by the comforting smell of Soonyoung, you fall asleep until the smell of food wafts up through the vents. Not burnt but if Soonyoung is in the kitchen then it’s only a matter of time.

You creep down the stairs, careful to stay quiet so you can sneak back up without getting caught. Soonyoung’s body blocks whatever he’s organizing on the counter but you tell it’s a bribe from the sight of take out bags piled in the trash.

“What’s that?”

“Dinner. Do you want some?”

He’s got an entire pizza with garlic knots and cinnamon twists laid out like a feast. You watch him pretend to be nonchalant but he’s glued to your every move as you approach the counter and shove an entire garlic knot into your mouth, chewing with enough force to warn you haven’t forgiven him yet even though you're close to it. “I don’t want to talk to you right now.”

“Then we won’t talk,” he sighs into the base of your skull, fingers edging beneath your shirt for the comforting warmth of skin on skin. 

“Don’t,” you say, but lean back into the warmth of his body despite yourself.

“I’m sorry.”

Sure he is. You know he means it. Soonyoung is always sorry but it doesn’t stop him from being a dumbass. But he’s your dumbass no matter how many fights you have.

He lets you eat, content to hide his face in your shoulder and his fingers warm against the waistband of your sweatpants. You hate crying and you hate crying in front of him – because of him – even more. The heavy silence of the kitchen and the love of your life clinging onto you like his life depends on it brings a fresh prick of tears. Once you start, you can’t stop. The tears keep coming as Soonyong maneuvers your face into his chest. His new, clean shirt turns into your tissue. You fall into him without hesitation.

“Are you really…” he asks quietly, dropping kiss after kiss against your hair while you wring out like a sponge. 

“Do you think I’d lie to make you feel bad?”

“No. I just—fuck. You’re pregnant.”

“Is that all you have to say?”

“How do you feel?”

You blow your nose into his neck. “Like I wanna punch my kid’s dad in the nuts.”

“He probably deserves that.”

“He definitely does.”

“And he deserves to sleep outside.”

“Yep,” you nod.

“But you still love him?”

“Of course I do, you big idiot,” you sigh, leaning back to look at him. Mistake. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” His brow presses to yours, face rounded out, soft cheeks that make you want to scream. Brown eyes shine beneath his lashes. Soonyoung knows exactly what he’s doing. 

“I’m still mad at you.”

“I’m not doing anything.”

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

You don’t but things would be a lot easier if you did.

Soonyoung takes the silence as an admission, and when you don’t object he falls to his knees, pulls your shirt out of the way and presses his face into your stomach. “We should name it Donatello.”

“No.”

“Leonardo.”

“No,” you giggle despite yourself.

“Raphael.”

“You are not naming our baby after a Ninja Turtle.”

“Mojo Jojo Jojo.”

“No.”

“Thanos.”

“Stop!”

“You’re laughing?” Soonyoung gasps, rushing to his feet to pin your squirmy body between him and the counter’s edge. “I’m trying to have a very serious conversation and you’re laughing?”

“You’re an idiot.”

“And you love me.”

You nod, hiding back into his chest where it’s safe. “Yeah, I love you.”

The silence marinates between you. 

“I’ll sell the bike, promise.”

“You’re not the best at keeping promises.”

“This time is different.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want our kid to grow up thinking their dad doesn’t worship the ground their mom walks on. Because I know she’s way too good for me and I’m lucky to have her.”

“I’m not too good for you, I hate when you say that.”

“You called me a loser.”

“I said you acted like a loser and I won’t take that back.” 

He looks away. “That’s fair.”

The icy wall of hurt freezes back up but you’re too tired to drag on the fight any longer. “When I found out my reaction wasn’t ’oh he’s being stupid.’ It was ‘how would I tell our kid their dad missed their birthday because he got himself locked up.’ That’s all I could think about. Explaining to our kid over and over why you’re never there.”

The words rest like a wet blanket over his flame of excitement. He doesn’t want to be that kind of dad; the one who misses their child’s life for something as stupid as street racing. Who leaves you to pick up a broken heart time and time again, two broken hearts.

You’re at arms length, Soonyoung examining you like a puzzle he can’t figure out but wants to try anyway. You hate when he looks at you like that. Like you’re the best thing he’s ever seen and he can’t quite believe you’re real. “You’re gonna be a great mom.”

“Shut up.” You hide the blush staining across your cheeks with another slice of pizza. 

“You are.”

“Well,” you swallow. “I need you to be a good dad. And if you can’t then I’m not afraid to do it by myself.”

“I know.”

“Good.”

“Can I talk to it?”

“If you want to.” You don’t tell him that the thing growing in your womb curiously of him is the size of a pea and doesn’t have a face, let alone ears. You want to hear what his first words as a dad are.

He rucks your shirt up higher until it’s bunched beneath your breast, stomach on full display for him to bury his face into. 

“Hi. I’m your dad,” he starts timidly. You bite back a smile at his earnestness. “I don’t usually make your mom this angry. Usually, she’s pretty happy with me.” His lips brush your stomach with each word, tickling them into your skin. “I hope you take after her. She’s smart, and she’s pretty. God, she’s so pretty. I remember the first time I saw your mom and I knew I wanted to marry her.”

You snort. “You did not.”

“Yes, I did,” he corrects. “We were at this bar. You’re not allowed to go there. Ever. Maybe when you’re thirty or I’m dead. But I remember seeing her when she walked in and I thought ‘that is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen and if she talks to me, I’ll throw up.’ I still feel like that sometimes. Even when she’s mad at me. And then when I got the courage to talk to her, I didn’t throw up because your old man is cool.”

Your heart swells too big for your chest. The night you met him wasn’t the stuff of fairytales. You saw him across the bar, all blonde hair and ruby cheeks as he screamed with his friends. He did throw up the first time you talked to him. After an hour of riding him until it hurt, you melted boneless in his lap and he snuck away to the bathroom to toss the used condom. You faked asleep as he emptied his guts into the toilet bowl before crawling back to bed and begging for cuddles. Pure romance.

“So cool,” you tease.

Soonyoung laces your fingers together, nipping at your fingertips in protest. “Your mom is mean to me but it’s okay because I love her. You’ll love her too. I just hope you’ll love me.”

You fight the urge to cry, only a single tear streaking down your cheek before stopping. “They’ll love you.”

“I hope so.”

“I know so.”

“How?”

“Because I love you and I’m very smart. Remember?”

“I did say that, didn't I?”

You hum in agreement, pulling him up your body to nudge his nose along yours. 

“I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you.” You let him shower you in gentle touches, his hands smoothing up your sides. Soonyoung traps you between his body and the counter, his lips sweeping over your chin, your jaw, your covered chest. That’s when you feel it. “What are you doing?”

“Apologizing.”

“Feels a lot like your penis to me.”

“That’s a part of the apology,” he whispers, the weight of his cocky heavy against your thigh, harder with each controlled grind. “Can’t believe I knocked you up and I never even came inside of you.”

“I can. You talk about kids so much I bet you manifested this.”

“You want it though, right?”

“Yeah.”

You’re lifted onto the countertop, legs spread around his hips. He’s got one hand wedge between your ass and panties to keep you close. “Do you think I’ll be a good dad?”

Not the conversation you thought would happen while you’re tugging his shirt off and working at the tie in his pajamas pants but you humor him.

“I think you’ll be a great dad.” You kiss him gently. His lips, his nose, his cheeks that round in your favorite smile. “If you stop getting arrested. How are you gonna ground Michaelangelo if you keep getting in trouble too?”

“She’s gonna be too smart for that. Just like her mom.”

“Oh, it’s a she now?”

“I’ve got a feeling.” He nips at your throat, a sweet flick of his tongue to soothe the sting. “Back to me coming inside you.”

“I like the sound of that.”

“Gonna take it all for me?”

Your chin tips back to provide more skin for Soonyoung to mark up. “Want it.”

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he heaves. You’re trapped between a hand against the crotch of your panties and one pawing at your ass like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do.

“Take your pants off.”

An amused breath warms your throat. “Someone’s bossy”

“Yeah, and I’m telling you to take your pants off.”

“Yes, ma’am.” 

Shirt gone, sweats pooled around his ankles, Soonyoung stands in nothing but a pair of tenting briefs and the thin chain you gifted him a week after he placed that band on your ring finger.

“Wow, who knew you'd be such a DILF.”

His cheeks tinged pink from the complement. “I’ve been a dad for five minutes and you’re already trying to hit on me.”

“We’re engaged, doofus.”

“Speaking of.” He snatches his pants off the floor, digging through the pockets until a familiar ring appears. “Don’t take this off again.”

“You’re so dramatic.”

He catches your chin between his fingers, pining you in his gaze. “I don’t care how angry you are with me. When I asked you to marry me, I meant forever.”

You can count on one hand the number of times he’s used that tone of voice with you. Soonyoung doesn't get angry often; at least, not with you. The last time he talked to you like this was when you wandered on the wrong side of town late at night, alone and drunk without a way home. You were pissed about a grade and wanted to do something reckless like every other kid at your university got to. Luckily, Soonyoung found you before trouble could. He used the same tone to chastise you for an hour about how stupid you’d been. 

But he isn’t just mad at your antics. He’s scared too. You look at him — really look at him for the first time since this morning when you kissed him goodbye before work. Red eyes, lip bruised, not from kisses but the way he chews it when he’s anxious.

“I’m sorry.” You pull him back, arms wrapped so tightly around his torso he probably can’t breathe and you both like the certainty of it. The tension in his shoulders softens like candle wax but he doesn’t let go. 

There’s still the matter of damp underwear and his boner. You want him, the gnawing aching way you always want him. Between your legs, stroking your sensitive spots to life over and over again until you beg for mercy he’s too eager to deny.

You nose against his cheek, adoring kiss after kiss against his skin until mouths meet. Soonyoung slips his tongue between the seam of your lips. You feel it the way down to your toes. On instinct, your hand trickles down his front, wedged tight between your bodies to paw at the fabric. A few dry jerks is all it takes for him to unravel.

“Wait,” Soonyoung gasps, hips rutting into the tight squeeze.

He keens with another tug, neck flushing a pretty shade of pink. The linoleum bites into your knees before you mouth over his underwear for a taste of what's to come. You suck the head through his underwear before leaning back to tease him with a kiss.

“Bedroom.”

“Didn’t think I’d see the day you’d refuse a kitchen blowjob,” you snicker.

Soonyoung doesn’t laugh. He pulls you back up into a bruising kiss, biting at your lip until you’re sure it’s bruised. His hand gropes down your ass, fingers tight to your entrance from behind. Whatever he wants like this you’ll agree to.

“Want you on my mouth.”

You’d kneel over his face right here on the kitchen floor if he wanted. But knowing your fiance, his sights are glued to whatever fantasies boil beneath that blond hair of his. 

You race up the stairs, Soonyoung hands heavy on your sides. His thumbs press into the bare curve of your hips. Your clothes fall until just your underwear remains. You want to turn around and mount him on the steps but the second floor landing is close enough you don’t get a chance. 

Soonyoung flicks all the bedroom lights on, eager to see every part of you as you crawl up the bed on all fours in nothing but your underwear. A few years ago you wouldn’t dream of sex with a lamp on let alone the overhead light but years of his utter devotion to your body and wanting to watch you get off like it’s his very own miracle gave you confidence. He looks ready to jump out of his own skin at the doorway. You glance over back and arch your spine a little more, ass higher in the air for his viewing. You might just finger yourself like this to see him suffer. You’ve done it before.

You stretch out, naked chest on display. “Are you coming?”

“Fuck yeah, I am.” Unconsciously, he palms his cock and approaches the side of the bed, pulling you into a kiss with a heavy lick of his tongue.

It doesn’t take much to drag him on top of you, dick hot to your thigh, perfect to rut against. There’s too much Soonyoung to think of anything else. His hands pinning you in place, his breath fanning across your chest as he suckles across the slope of your breast, thighs surging between yours in a dry hump you can’t help but beg for more of. His hips stutter when you do.

He follows the same playbook you did earlier; fingers trailing to the wet patch of your wants, mouth following closely. You’re in for a treat when he’s on his knees like this. He wants to tease you the way you did him but Soonyoung isn’t committed to denying you anything, he wants to rake you over hot coals by giving too much. 

Your hands eagerly hook beneath your knees, legs spread wide before him like a feast..

“Taste so good,” he rasps with a soft suck at your clit. “You’re so hot.”

Even with the barrier of your underwear each lick lights you on fire. Soonyoung moans a lewd melody, lost in his own paradise. Your thighs twitch with each gentle prod at your entrance, folded away by his shoulders so he can touch as much as he wants.

The promise from earlier lights up your brain. You twist a tight grip in his hair, pulling hard enough to detach him from your body. Lips wet, eyes blown, Soonyoung tries to dive back down until another twist of your nails makes him wince.

“Call Jeonghan.”

His mouth may be gone but his fingers circle your clit in the way that makes you whine. “What?”

“Call. Him,” you command. 

You snatch your phone from the end table, forcing it into Soonyoung’s grasp. He still doesn’t understand what you’ve asked.

“Sell him the bike right now.”

“Now?” He looks down at your pussy still on display, underwear soaked in spit and arousal.

You nod. Soonyoung knows better than to argue. He’s back in your good graces but only just, the promise of shipping that infernal bike off to someone else keeping him afloat. 

Your body throbs for release, for his mouth to go back to work instead of whispering into the phone when Jeonghan answers. 

“Two grand? Bullshit! There's at least…” he trails off.

You’re not going to stop just because he’s busy. You grab your breasts, taunt nipples visible between your fingers. Clad in a pair of sticky panties and nothing else, you’ve reduced him into a stuttering mess. Any other night he’d already be smothering himself in the wetness. You can see the urge in his gaze as he swallows loudly.

“Four,” Soonyoung counters. His face twists between wanting to argue with the neighbor, brows furrowed, lips in a heavy pout, and watch in awe as you suck on your own fingers before pinching at your chest again.

You’ve got him distracted with a hand between your legs, pushing your underwear out of the way to flash him exactly what he’s earning. Flushed and wet, the smell of sex hangs in the air.

“Thirty-five,” his voice cracks as you spread your legs wider, pulling his hand right where it belongs.

Soonyoung bats your hands away, fingers twisting through your heat. A gentle prod at your entrance like he hasn’t mastered your pussy enough to make you stupid and strung out with a few touches. There’s no way Jeonghan can’t hear every pleased sigh, the wet noise echoing from your pussy, the annoyance in Soonyoung’s voice as they barter back and forth. 

Soonyoung leans over and spits where his fingers disappear, making you jolt with the force as he does it again. You nearly ask him to spit in your mouth just to see his eyes bulge but the opportunity disappears with the sound of Jeonghan’s cackle through the line.

“Fine, three. I’ll give you the keys tomorrow.” He ends the call, forces your hand out of the way, and eagerly makes up for the minutes lost.

Both of your hands find the soft strands of his hair to hold him in place. Your feet plant on the bed beside his wide shoulders, allowing you to hump his face pathetically only to be welcomed with a grunt. The rip of fabric registers right before what was once your underwear is left stretched across the middle of your thigh. 

“S-shit, don’t stop.”

His fingers spread for his tongue to lick between. You punish him for such a dirty move with a harsh pull of his hair that he loves more than anything. Soonyoung does what he does best: groveling for your forgiveness. You’ll give it to him like always. But you both want him to work for it; it’s better when he does. 

He spreads your legs wider, gives a pleased grunt when you hold him in place and grind into his mouth. 

“Yes, yes, yes,” you chant; vision blurry, body on fire.

Soonyoung moans into the sloppy mess of your pussy, sucking your clit between his lips, wedging another finger between the two already ruining you. 

“Oh god—there.”

Your thighs crush his head but he forces them up and open, pinned in place. The tender glow of the end escalates into a scalding burn as it rips through every muscle. You clench so tight around his fingers he can’t move them more than a tight curl. When you cry at the overstimulation he finally rests.

“Did you just—”

Pins and needles ripple through your muscles and all you can do is nod. Once the initial shock fades, there’s a smug twitch of his lips. He catches your foot and pins it before you can kick him.

“Shut up.”

“Have I told you how much I think about you being pregnant?” he asks, watching your every move.

You shake your head. His fingers keep working in gentle strokes, the wet noises quieter than before but loud in your ears. 

“It’s a lot,” he grunts. “Fuck, you’re gonna be so sexy.”

“I’m not already?” you half laugh, half gasp. The spark of arousal already demands more so you rock your hips down despite the sensitivity.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

“But I’m not sexy?”

“Don’t pick an argument with me right now, please,” Soonyoung begs. 

“Why?”

“Because I’m thinking about coming in you until you can’t take anymore.”

“Then I’ll be sexy?” you goad.

“You’ve always been sexy.” He punctuates the compliment with a kiss to your left hip bone. “Beautiful.” Another on your right. “Gorgeous.” One on the plush of your thigh. “I love you.”

He folds you in half, knees to chest like you possess the flexibility to stay there, ankles cuffed in his hand, lips hot on the back of your thigh. 

“We should fuck on the bike one more time,” you tease. 

“You want me to defile the mother of my child on a motorcycle?”

You moan at his words. You want him to come wherever he wants, as many times as he can. Until he can’t anymore. To feel nasty and used however he sees fit. You want him on top of you, behind you, bending you over every surface he can until you’re shaking.

“You’re about to defile me right here. W-what’s the difference?”

Soonyoung curls the fingers inside you tight, eyes glued to the way you heave before answering. He fucks into that spot that makes you his puppet and all you want is to ruin him the same way he ruins you with the slightest touch. “You said I should stop doing things that’ll get me arrested.”

You choke on another tease as he sucks on your clit, tongue coaxing pathetic sighs right out of your lungs. He could do this all night. He’d be happy to. Soonyoung grips you tighter as you squirm away. It’s too much. He knows it and that’s why he loves it so much, knowing he can make you cum hard enough to scream.

“Are the cameras still broken at the garage?”

“Yeah,” he grunts, already knowing exactly what you’re thinking.

“Then you can defile me at your place of business, over the bike. Just like old times.”

“No condoms.”

“How else are you gonna stuff me full of cum?”

Soonyoung groans, pushing your legs wider as his hips rut into the mattress. “Wanna come inside you.”

“Then get up here and do it.”

You’re soaked between the legs, sensitive and swollen. Soonyoung settles into the warm cradle of your thighs easily, pressing his cock into the wet mess of spit and arousal. Your body acts of instinct, hips tilting until he slips between your walls.

“Oh my god.” He laps at the swell of your breast. “‘S okay?”

“Yeah, they don’t hurt yet.”

The sharp edge of his teeth leaves lines across your skin while he sucks at your chest until your spine breaks in half. His fingers keep firm pressure against your clit. Sloppy but enough to keep you pulled taunt. You’ll come a second time if he keeps it up.

“Oh my god,” you echo. 

Soonyoung likes to fuck hard. Hard enough you feel like all your seams are splitting, just shy of shattering your limit. Now’s no different but there's a new edge of caution. Even with his hips flat, inside you until nothing is left to give, he tangles your fingers together and pins them over head in the pillows.

You push your body against his, needy and pliant. Blind want acting as a guide, your ankles lock around his waist. It feels so much better than all the other times he’s fucked you like this; knowing the risk of him coming inside no longer counts and he can do it as many times as you ask. 

The slap of your skin against his fills the room, grunts and pathetic whines passing between mouths with narrowed vision. Nails biting into his shoulders, you flutter tight, trying to pull Soonyoung deeper even if he’s snug to the hilt. Stretched full beyond belief.

“More,” you beg. Frantic. Needy. All those feelings Soonyoung can incite with the barest of touches and a look.

He rises back on his hands, lighting up with each pathetic whimper of his name. “More what?”

If you had the brain power you’d knock the stupid smirk off his face. “Fuck me.”

“I am,” Soonyoung taunts.

“Breed me.”

“Already h-have.” Soonyoung looks like he wants to laugh but he sinks as much weight as he can into his hips, rhythm clumsy but it’s so good you don’t care. “Fuck, such a good girl. Aren’t you?”

You clench around him. He isn’t the most inspired with dirty talk but he knows your buttons, loves to press on your praise kink when you least expect it. 

“Say it.”

“I-I’m,” you stutter from his fingers finding your raw clit. “I’m your good girl.”

“My pretty little wife,” Soonyoung gasps. “Perfect.”

Every bit of praise adds a drop in the bucket, chest tightening until it explodes without permission; shredding through your veins. Your teeth sink into his shoulder. Hard enough to bruise as you cry, “Soonyoung.”

He doesn’t stop for your orgasm, not for a second. You asked him to breed you and it’s his sole purpose until you’re both satisfied. “G-gonna come.”

“Want it, want you to come in me,” you sob.

Soonyoung grabs for your hair, a gentle tug with enough force your eyes open to find his.

“Want it?” he pants, tilting your hips to fuck deeper. You nod with limited room thanks to his grip. “Then take it.”

The sticky heat you’re accustomed to on your skin stains your insides for the first time. There’s no way you can go back. Not after knowing how right it feels to have him fill you. You shiver beneath his weight, nerves twitching from the idea of him doing it again. Immediately.

“Love you, love you, love you…” Soonyoung chants into your skin, lips slipping over your throat with each breathless gasp.

You roll down into the nasty feel of cum and cock, the minor relief not nearly enough. Not with the idea of sucking the combined taste off him rearing its head. But Soonyoung collapses with a point flex of his thighs to stop your motions.

“Holy fuck,” he shudders. “If you let me do that sooner, we’d have ten kids by now.”

You’re flustered at the idea. “Do you think my vagina is a baby rocket launcher?”

“It’s definitely something.”

“How romantic,” you snort. “Give it a few months and I’ll be so hormonal you won’t touch me with a ten foot pole.”

“Is that what you think?” he hums, face still hidden in your neck like he’s too exhausted to move except to lap at the dip in your throat. A subtle grind reminds you of his cock still wedge in your guts, stiff like he didn’t come hard enough to see stars.

It’s hard to think that after so many years together, this is the biggest love rush you’ve ever experienced. The urge to keep him wrapped in your arms for as long as possible brings tears to your eyes. 

Soonyoung pops over your face after the first sniffle, terrified. “Are you crying?”

“No.” You swipe at the tears. “Shut up.”

“Aw, baby,” he coos, failing to hide his amusement.  

“I’m carrying your child, sorry my hormones are all over the place.” You bat his hand away unsuccessfully, leaning your cheek into the comforting warmth of his palm.  “We’re ready for this?”

“I mean, I was planning to knock you up on our honeymoon anyway,” he shrugs, lips soft on your hairline. “Do you have any more of those tests?”

“Why?”

“I wanna see what’d happen if I pee on one.”

“Nothing.” You push him off, rolling onto hands and knees with your ass in the air, face buried in the pillows. “Now, fuck me again.”

Soonyoung pushes the head of his cock through the mess of cum leaking out before sinking back inside with a grunt. “Yes, ma’am.”

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[wh1msic4lwasab1]

“You get me so…so soaked!!”˚✿˖ᥫ᭡.

synopsis: Zayne needs more you more than food during his lunch break ;)

tags: semi-public, softdom!Zayne, desperation, penetration, on the table…, nipple play, dirty talk, vulgar, explicit, desperate asa Zayne my favorite flavor

wrd cnt: 1.5k

a/n: finally wrote a longer ish fic and lord i need this man in ways that sets back feminism…special thanks to @astarionapologist bc i made them go take screenshots for these zayne pics…

Your heels clink against the spotless hospital floor, your eyebrows slightly contort due to the harsh fluorescent lights casting a sterile glow over everything. The smell of antiseptic and alcohol hangs heavy in the air, but your heart quickens as you finally spot Zayne sitting at one of the tables in the break room, his head in his hands as his slender fingers rub at the sides of his temple. He looks up as you enter, his eyes lighting up at the sight of you.

"Y/n, I'm so glad you're here," he says, his voice thick with emotion. He stands up and pulls you into a tight embrace, his strong arms enveloping you. You can feel the tension in his body, the stress and anxiety of his upcoming surgery weighing heavy on him.

He pulls back and looks at you, his eyes pleading. "I've missed you”, he says, holding the side of your face and making you blush at his sudden confession.

You reach up and run your fingers through his hair, fixing small pieces out of place.

"I've missed you too, Zayne," you murmuras you stand in his arms, holding a box in your hand he’s yet to ask about.

“A gift for me?” He chuckles, taking it after your little nudges.

He opens your scarf wrapped lunch box to reveal a beautiful assortment of sweets.

His eyes widen, embarrassed you know his guilty pleasure so well.

He winces, “you know…giving your doctor diabetes in a box is quite humorous.” He closes the lid, placing your gift on the counter behind him. “Nonethless…I’ll probably get through the entire thing by the end of the day…” He fesses up, smiling at you.

“Wait! At least try one first-!” You insist.

He sighs, knowing he can’t even try to say no to you.

You grab a chocolate covered strawberry since it wouod be the the first to melt, and let Zayne take a bite.

You watch with big eyes as he chews, nodding softly in response.

“Soooo?” You ask.

“It’s very nice, did you make these just for me?”

You nod, wiping away a small smear of chocolate in the corner of his mouth.

His eyes trail your hand before noticing residual chocolate.

As is it was the antidote to a poison, he grabs your wrists and puts the tip of your finger in his mouth, licking off the confectionery.

“Sorry…I really like it.”

You chuckle, “there’s more in the box-“

“I meant something else.” He says sternly.

It took a few seconds for what he said to register, but it was quickly reinforced when you felt his sweet lips touch yours, tasting hints of strawberry as his tongue tangles with yours, his soft groans filling the cavern of your mouth while the grip on your hand trials up to interlock your fingers together.

Before the kiss is broken, he’s got you pushed into a table, pausing just for a second to remove his fogged up glasses.

He groans, his hands gripping your hips tightly. "I need you, y/n. Please…” His breath is heavy, “I just need to feel something else, something good….you”.

You can feel the heat building between you as he backs you up against the table, body pressed flush against yours. His hands are all over you, gripping your hips, running up your thighs, tangling in your hair.

"Zayne, we can't do this in here-," you protest half-heartedly, even as you arch your back, pressing yourself against him. “Someone could walk in at any moment now-”.

"I don't care," he growls, his voice low and rough. "I need you” he groans, “so much.”

He lifts you up onto the table, pushing your skirt up around your waist. His fingers find your underwear, tugging them aside as he sinks to his knees in front of you. You gasp as his tongue finds your clit, his hands gripping your thighs as he devours you.

"Zayne, oh god," you moan, your hands fisting in his hair as he licks and sucks at you.

He looks up at you, his eyes dark with desire. "You’re soaked…I think you might like the riskiness of this all?"

Before you could argue back, your words start to slur in retort as he dives back into you, placing your thighs on his shoulders as he continues his work on your most sensitive spot.

You can't deny the thrill that courses through you as you both skirt the line of danger.

Zayne's hands roam your body, exploring every inch of you as his tongue works its magic. You can feel yourself quickly spiraling towards release, your hips bucking against his face as you chase the feeling.

Suddenly, you hear footsteps outside the door, coming closer and closer. Panic sets in as you realize how exposed you are, but Zayne doesn't seem to care.

In fact, the danger only seems to turn him on more, his fingers plunging deeper inside of you as his tongue continues to flick back and forth, sucking on your pearl to make you moan even louder.

You bite your lip to keep from crying out as the footsteps pass by the door, the sound fading away into the distance. Zayne finally looks up at you, a wicked smile on his face.

"I told you, you liked the risk," he says, standing back up and soothing your head and helping you come down from your high.

“Perhaps, we should finish before someone really does walk in?”

You were run out of half asses excuse, and frankly you might have needed him more now.

In a snap decision, you pull the collar of his white coat and kiss him, tasting the remnants of yourself that coated his lips.

While his hands are focused on holding the sides of your neck, yours trial down his body; feeling every particular muscle down his chest and torso, your hand soothing over his abs under his shirt and unbuttoned coat before pulling the latch of his belt.

He lets out a deep groan against your mouth as you palm over his cock, painfully hard and most eager for your attention.

“Please…touch me more.” He begs, his forehead resting on yours, his eyes shut as he focuses on how good your hands feel.

You release him from his clothes, taking his erection into your hand, slowly pumping it just enough to illicit painful excitement from the doctor.

“Y/n- Please…I can’t take this.”

You look into his eyes, his warm and sultry glare that begs you to allow him release.

He gets closer to you, taking his own tip and smearing it up and down your slit, a sharp breathe leaving your nostrils.

“Is this okay?” He whispers, watching every inch of your face accept him before he plunges it inside you in one movement.

“A-Ah- Zayne…!” You moan, forgetting for a moment the height of your volume in such a vulnerable situation.

“I’m sorry- I just can’t…” his forehead falls on your shoulder, arm wrapped around your waist as the other curiously roams your body, tweaking your nipple through the thin fabric of your shirt. “Can’t get enough of you”.

You grip his shoulders tight, the white coat wrinkling under your firm fingers as the table behinds to rock.

He pounds you, painfully slow; savoring the engulfing feeling of your walls around every inch of him, his stress seeming to melt away while fucking you.

“God- I love you.” He whispers, more raspy and guttural the more and more he repeats it. Like a mantra, repeating the phrase over and over as he thrusts his cock deep inside you while you remain glued to him.

The intensity of the moment is almost overwhelming, but in the best way possible. The way Zayne looks at you, with pure desire and love, makes your heart race. You feel him inside you, every thrust, every whisper of love, every twitch of his cock.

Zayne continued to move inside you, you can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. The pleasure is building, tightening in your core, and you know that you're not going to be able to hold back much longer, reaching a plateau.

You tighten your legs around Zayne's waist, pulling him deeper inside you. “Y/n-“ He groans in response, his movements becoming more urgent as he chases his own release.

You can feel him getting closer, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he reaches the breaking point. And then, with one final thrust, he stills, burying himself deep inside you as he comes.

The feeling of him inside you, pulsing and throbbing, is enough to send you over the edge. You cry out, your orgasm rippling through you as you cling to Zayne, unable to let go. He holds you close, whispering words of love and devotion as you ride out the waves of pleasure.

As if it were a perfectly timed sign, you hear Zayne’s pager go off as soon as you two had composed yourself, giving him an encouraging kiss on the cheek as he’s on his way.

whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.

[wildheartsalwaysburn]

OP men taking care of their SO

Gn!Reader (I tried)

Characters: Trafalgar Law, Eustass Kid, Sanji, Bartolomeo, Corazon

CW: mentions of ED (starving, vomiting, overexercising), bad body image/body dysmorphia, cursing, SH, slight nsfw for Kid

Notes: I'm in a terrible mental state rn, kinda relapsing. OP hyperfixation fixes stuff so I decided to write some HC how they would act when noticing their SO is struggling with an ED.

Trafalgar Law

he had a bad feeling about your eating habits a while ago

noticing you rush to the bathroom after every meal and "showering" excessively

but didn't mention cuz he knows to leave people alone (he's the same tbh)

it hit him during the monthly physical examination

he listens to your heartbeat and notice it being really low

"y/n, would you step on the scale?" he asks in a cold but also concerned tone

as he notices you getting anxious when standing in front of that thing, he sighs and puts a hand reassuring on your shoulder

"it's ok. I'm here. Just step on it, please." his voice still concerned but warm and soft

he looks at the low numbers in shock and takes you carefully from the scale before you can see the numbers

"y/n-ya. What's wrong?" he'll take your cold hands and sits right in front of you

if you break out in tears, he'll just sit there and hug you tightly, til you calm down by yourself

if you stay cold and stubborn, he'll get annoyed but also takes care of you

either way, you talk a lot and will make a rehab plan, he'll watch over you as much as he can

he won't miss a moment to show you how much he loves and cares for you

"you're the most beautiful soul I know, y/n-ya."

"I know it hurts, but I cannot lose someone I love dearly, again."

"We get through this, ok?"

all in all, he's a doctor and acts like one, but he'll support you whenever needed

Eustass Kid

he notice during working out together

the last times you'd been skipping meals and even alcohol, working out without him even in the middle of the night

first he thought you'd simply want to get stronger than him and teases you daily

but on that day you've overdone yourself, your body can't take it anymore and you get dizzy and weak all of a sudden, letting the weights fall down with a thud

"y/n?! Fucking seriously?" he first yells at you (rule: never let weights fall down)

you sink on your knees, mumbling sth like you'd be fine

"Fine my ass!" he swears and lifts you up to carry you to his room

"what the hell are you thinking?!" he's clearly pissed

he'll put on his too big warm clothes and coat, still staring at you angrily

forces you to drink water and hot tea, he still stares at you

"so what the fuck is wrong with you, y/n?" angry, annoyed tone

when you start to cry, he's overwhelmed and feels bad not being able to help, so he just sits there and pets your head

when you glance back and pout/get angry you'll get into a fight and storms out throwing the door

just to come back and hug you tightly after finally understanding

his soft side comes out when you tell him you feel weak and ugly and fat

he laughs: "stupid girl/boy! you're the strongest pirate I know! and the sexiest! besides me"

if you don't or don't smile enough (which will be most likely the case), he'll just tower over you and wrap you up in his arms, roaming with his hands over your body and repeat how amazing you are

he'll get overprotective, remind you to eat enough through the day (sometimes forces you to)

He makes you different playlists to lift up your mood

also he'll seek help from Killer from time to time (but won't tell you)

Sanji

He’ll notice when you stop joining to cook in the kitchen

Notices your rapid weight loss really quickly

Sits down next to you, lights up a ciggy and asks worried what’s wrong

Poor boy thinks it’s his fault

Eventually he’ll tear up and just hug you, telling you how much he loves you

“You can tell me everything, ma chère!”

You instantly felt understood and tell him

He’ll look at you in shock, not understanding how such a beautiful person can think of themselves like that

“But you are the most beautiful woman/man, I know, y/n-swan”

He cups your face and gazes into your eyes before kissing you softly

“We get through this, together. I promise.”

And he’ll make it true. He’s the most supportive boyfriend

Forehead kisses, reassuring soft hugs and touches, always keeping an eye on you

Spa Days, telling you every second how much he loves and adores you, would never force you but beg you to try his food at least

Makes the most delicious looking meals

Reads all about EDs so he won’t accidentally hurt you even more

Will hold you in his arms when you’re freezing or crying

Hides the scale

All in all the perfect man

Bartolomeo

He’ll notice when following you to the bathroom after dinner

Already had a bad gut feeling about your bruised up and red hands

He holds them all the time so he knows their appearance by heart

“Y/n-chan? Are you ok? I’m here for you! Are you sick?”

Music plays from inside and the tab runs

When you came out after minutes, eyes swollen and red, hands wet and even redder than before you’ll earn a concerned look

“Don’t tell me you’re fine, y/n-chan.”

Weirdly sniffs and notices the smell of vomit

Eyes in shock and starts crying

“No no no no my dearest y/n-chan!! Please don’t tell me it’s true!”

Wraps his arms around you in a tight embrace, crying his eyes out

Overdramatic as fuck

Eventually taking your weak body to a quiet room, cleans your face and gives you something to drink

Will listen to each of your words really carefully to understand

Always pleasing you, always bring you water and tea, will not force but desperately beg to you eat something

Will accompany you to the bathroom any time, watching that you don’t hurt yourself anymore

Around you 24/7, will provoke and beat up everyone just trying to say something bad about you

Literally overprotective l, like a guard dog

Will try to lift your mood by telling stupid jokes and stories, tattle about Law and other “not cool non strawhats”, showing off his collection

Proud as hell every time he’ll make you laugh and forget that illness for a second

Corazon/ Rosinante Donquixote

He’ll notice when picking you up as usual

“Y/n, you’re so tiny?!”

Shocked at first and lifts you even higher

Can’t believe you’re that light, you’ve always been to him, but now it’s different

Immediately throws you over his shoulder, covering you with his warm feather coat

“We’re going to a doctor, no back talk.”

His tone is stern but also warm and caring

Carries you to different doctors and hospitals, always holding your hand or thigh to show you he’s there

Will yell at anyone who says that can’t treat you

Throws literal tantrums at some doctors for being “incapable”

Will end up trying to fix and heal you himself

Showers you in love and care, eg bringing you water, tea, let’s you borrow his lighter to fidget with (even lend you his cigarettes if you smoke)

Will always smile at you and be more clumsy on purpose to make you laugh again

Will cook for you, whatever you want, burns it a few times by accident

Let’s you wear his clothes, when you feel bad about your body

Or wraps you up in them to get you warm

Will be extremely careful when touching, hugging or lifting you up

Afraid he’ll break you

Will inform himself about EDs to make the best of it

Never leaves your side, towering above or behind you, so no one can hurt you

Even lends you hit hat from time to time if he can’t be around for a moment, so you won’t feel alone

Gets sentimental when you sleep and he drinks, petting your head, sits right next to you talking about how beautiful and amazing you are

"I love you so much! You deserve everything in this world, my heart!"

[hardstrawberrygardener]

HOUSE CALL

Tags: Zayne x reader, fluff, domestic, beginnings of a relationship?

Warnings: mentions of blood, reader gets a wittle hurt

Synopsis: So grocery shopping went a little crazy, nothing a little house call from your primary care physician can't fix.

Author's note: hiyah! First time writing and posting a complete fic, sorry for any mistakes, and uhhhhh Zayne is my pookie, what can I say?

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

The rain had gotten temperamental over the last hour, swinging from drizzle to torrential in a matter of minutes. On any other day this would have lulled you to sleep but the itch of the cuts on your ribs and the flecks of dried blood under your fingernails were a sensory nightmare.

You’d spent the last half hour just catching your breath on your now slightly blood-stained couch, recounting the incident that left you oh so pained and disgruntled.

A wanderer attack in the middle of your grocery shopping disrupted you mid deliberation on which snack to treat yourself to, and in the flurry of dodging claws and diverting the wanderer’s attention from terrified shoppers you slipped on the slick, just-mopped, floors, allowing the monster to graze you with its serrated pincers.

The pain was akin to the worst papercut you’d ever had, times a billion and as wide as a discount banana. It really hurt. And the oncoming migraine was really not ideal. The knocking in your head was becoming louder, too loud. Like, someone actually knocking on your door.

Begrudgingly you push yourself off the couch and walk, or really hobble to your front door; the source of the knocking. A confused peak through the peephole and your stomach drops, cause if there’s one thing worse than getting hurt, it’s your primary care physician catching you getting hurt.

“Hey...” You crack the door open, enough to show your face, which you hope didn’t look as bad as you felt. “I wasn’t expecting you here…”

He’s sporting the usual aloof look, scanning what he can see and deducing that you’re hiding the worst from him.

“Your wound will get infected if you don’t clean it.” Blunt and on the dot. As expected of the infallible Dr. Zayne.

He doesn’t wait for you to respond and pushes the door the rest of the way open. Too exhausted to deny it, you simply step aside and follow him to your kitchen like a little duckling.

He’s already pulled out a first-aid kit, the one he gifted you himself after the last late night house call. You walked in while he was washing his hands and he’s not looking at you when he tells you to sit.

You plant yourself on the closest chair and he brings a bowl filled with water and a rag soaking in it.

“Lift your shirt.”

“Is this covered under my insurance plan?”

“Unfortunately, this is out of your service, you’ll have to pay out of pocket.” He gets on his knees so he's eye level with your wound.

“Gasp! Can I afford this? Doctor, please I hav-” Your monologue was interrupted by a candy he had unwrapped and popped into your mouth. Mhmm strawberry flavored.

“The patient needs to behave.”

Given that he’s still bantering with you, the injury must not look that bad.

Any response you would have had is cut off by the sting and shock of the cold rag he’s gently wiping across your ribs.

Silence fills the air and in the calm it finally hits you.

“Wait, how did you know I got hurt?”

He doesn’t answer at first. Opting instead to search for a gauze and scissors to cut it to size.

“I didn't. It was a lucky guess.”

“Huh?”

“I heard news of a wanderer attack near your place. ”

“That doesn't necessarily mean I'd get hurt?”

His fingers ghost over your skin as he finishes taping the gauze. Your eyes follow the trail of his hands. Large and littered with scars from his time on the field. Hands that have saved so many lives. Lost in your thoughts you almost miss the next thing he says.

“-Take off your clothes.”

“Excuse me?!”

He sighs and gets off his knees, now towering over you. He looks down and you think you see just the smallest hint of amusement on his face, but you blink and it's gone.

“I said,” he pauses and leans in closer, “you're still in your bloody uniform, you need to take off your clothes.”

“Ah.” Your mouth is dry as you mentally reprimand yourself for assuming he had meant something else.

“Do you need me to carry you to your room?”

“Nope.”

And with that you are on your feet, scurrying over to your room. You're changed and in much comfier attire in no time. Meanwhile, Zayne has since been inspecting your fridge.

He closes the door and you can already hear the lecture he's about to give.

“Before you say anything, I was going to buy groceries, BUT, the wanderer sort of distracted me.”

He sighs and closes his eyes for a moment before pulling out his phone. Deft fingers tapping on the screen.

“The food will be here in 30 minutes, you should drink water and rest in the meanwhile.”

“Huh?”

He walks off to grab a glass and fills it with water before coming back to escort you to your couch. Instructing you to finish the drink. His eyes hone in on the blood stains and his brows furrow but he doesn’t say a word.

He walks back to the kitchen, dampens another rag, and squeezes a few drops of soap on top. Before you can stop him, he’s kneeling on one knee and making quick work of the stains and patting the spot dry.

“Zayne, you’re being so domestic. Do you do this for all your patients?”

He places the rag on your coffee table and turns to you, and for the first time you’re actually looking down on his face.

You stare, taking in his eyes, a shade of honey green that you could spend hours poring over, like an ever-shifting image of a galaxy. When did you get so poetic?

The rain’s pitter patter and the soft ambience of lamplight make this feel like a scene out of a movie, the yellow glow softening his sharp features. He reaches over and palms your cheek, his thumb gently rubbing over your cheekbones.

“Only for my most reckless patients.”

You can feel the rise of your chest, the fluttering of your heart, and swallow slowly; eyes wander all over his face.

It’s only now that you notice that his hair is a little damp. You inch closer and you catch his eyes lower to your lips. Time moves at that infuriatingly slow speed like you’re dreaming, and the- DING DONG!

Delivery. Mood shaken, and sudden realization of what was about to happen, you both stand and look away. Zayne beats you to the door and grabs the food from the clueless delivery guy as you try your best to not stare daggers at him.

You go to set the table for two, but Zayne interrupts you.

“I have to go soon.”

“What?” Your disappointment clear.

“I just got a message, there’s a patient under critical condition I ought to check on.”

He places the food on the table, and you grab his hand to stop him.

“Wait, you ordered the food, you should take it.”

“I ordered it for you.” He replies cooly.

“Zayne!”

You can see that he has no intention of taking any of it with him and admit defeat.

“Fine. But I’m taking you out to lunch tomorrow.”

He smiles and gently pats your head. “I look forward to it.”

You walk him over to your door and hand him an umbrella, the rain still pattering outside. He turns to you and gestures for you to come closer.

Confused you inch closer and lean into him. His hand finds its way back to your cheek and he places a quick soft kiss on your forehead.

“This will do for now.” He smirks and walks away before your brain is able to process what just happened.

“For now?!” You barely manage to yell at him before he rounds the corner and disappears down the hallway.

Mouth agape, you’re about to go running after him but are promptly reminded of your injured state by a sudden stab of pain.

“Zayne!” You’re not sure if he can hear you, but you don’t care. The fluttering in your heart has you almost floating as you giggle and close the door.

You grab your phone and shoot him a message.

You: You’re bad for my heart.

Zayne: Good thing I’m your doctor.

[rainylana]

“I’m always going to take care of you.” Alternate Version! part two!

Eddie Munson x female reader

summary: part two of my series, will also be the final part in the installation.

warnings: talk of sexual abuse and rape, depression and breakdowns, explicit details of rape and violence, mostly told in eddie’s pov, language. if i missed anything please let me know! i hope you enjoyed the reboot of this series<3 let me know your thoughts on this one, it was tough to write!

“Please, Y/n, you can’t shut me out. You can’t.” Eddie was sat by your hospital bed beside you, hands holding the metal railing that was put up at the sides.

“I told you, Eddie,” Your voice broke, eye swollen, purple and red with a gleam of tears. “I don’t need to talk about it.”

“Don’t need to talk about it?” He repeated shockingly, more so to himself.

You’d woke up an three hours ago, having been out for almost thirteen hours after you’d passed out. You were a completely different person. You’d shut down, cold, unwilling to talk about what happened. You only wanted one thing, and that was to go home. Eddie didn’t know how to handle it. He knew he shouldn’t push you. You obviously needed time, but Eddie wasn’t a patient man, and he needed you to be okay.

“Please,” Your voice broke, looking over to him with a bruised eye, the skin around your nose red and aggravated. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Eddie, but I am fine. Just forget about it and get me out of here.”

The police had been there as soon as you woke up to question you. Did you recognize your attacker? Had you ever seen him before? What was he wearing? How tall? Did he tell you his name? What was his hair color? So many questions and so little answers. You hardly remembered it, yet you couldn’t seem to forget it.

Eddie had sent Wayne and all of his friends home. You weren’t up for visitors. Frankly, you were scaring Eddie. You seemed pissed, angry at the world and broken, not able to be fixed. You had a look in your eye that you’d never had before.

“I’ll go get the doctor.” He said tiredly. He didn’t sleep a wink in that uncomfortable chair.

Eddie left you alone then, leaving the room with a heavy sigh. He found your doctor at the front desk giving check out papers to another patient. “Dr. Grant?” Eddie called, gaining the female doctors attention. “How much longer till Y/n can leave?”

“We want to keep her just a few more hours for observation.” She checked her clipboard. “Just until we get the results of her head ct.”

Eddie nodded, not wanting to tell you the news of having to stay longer. He looked like a shell of a man, broken, eyes red rimmed and lips cracked from chewing on them. “I don’t know what to, doctor.” He looked to the floor. “She won’t talk to me.”

Dr. Grant frowned at Eddie, pulling him to the side so they could sit in the waiting room. She put her clipboard down on her lap. “Mr. Munson it will take some time before y/n will feel comfortable with talking. I can assure you that it’s perfectly normal in rape victims to shut down.”

He visibly cringed at her choice of words. Rape victim. You were a rape victim.

“I’m going to give you some paper work that may help you help her.” She smiled, placing a comforting hand on his knee. “I know it seems impossible, Mr. Munson, but eventually she will be okay again. It’ll just take time.”

Dr. Grant left the pamphlets on his lap as she left for her rounds. He looked down to find brightly colored pieces of paper, the words rape and assault plastered all over them. He got up quickly when his eyes teared up, disappearing into the bathroom and shoving the papers in his pocket.

Take time, it certainly did.

•

You acted as if nothing happened. You went on about your daily chores, cooked meals and cleaned the trailer. You were pretending, acting. Eddie couldn’t pretend nor could he forget. He was trying to be patient, that’s what the pamphlets told him. Be patient and understanding. But Eddie saw right through you. You weren’t that good of an actress.

He could see how broken you were, the look in your eyes was shattered and gone. The aches in your body you pretended weren’t there, how uncomfortable you were sleeping in the same bed with him. He offered to sleep on the couch and you’d nearly bitten his head off, saying you were fine and he was overreacting. All you were was angry when he talked to you. When anyone talked to you.

When it got late, when everything had been done for the day, you’d sit outside on the porch and stare up at the sky, smoking your pack of cigarettes that you’d swiped from Hopper a few weeks prior. You’d stay out there past midnight. Eddie hadn’t even seen you cry. You didn’t cry or get sad, only angry. That’s all you ever were.

You spent a lot of time in the shower, hours at a time during the night when you thought he was asleep. He never was. Neither of you slept peacefully anymore. You were barely eating. You tried, tried to keep up appearances to prove that you were okay, but you were slipping. It was getting harder and harder.

It had only been three days, but Eddie was starting to loose it. He couldn’t handle watching you fade away so quickly.

It was late when he finally had dozed off, but your absence in the bed woke him. His hand reached out to find you, only feeling the blanket and pillow. His eyes squinted in the dark, his heart beginning to race. Where were you?

He found you in the living room, one single lamp on that made your face an orange color, staring off into space with a blanket wrapped around you. Eddie frowned, turning on the kitchen light that made you jump slightly.

He tried to ignore the way you stiffened when he sat down, sitting a few feet away from you. He stared at you the entire time, trying to read your face. You looked broken. Utterly broken and so, so sad.

“Sweetheart,” Eddie began, sighing deeply. “I can’t keep watching you like this. I’m trying to…give you time, but it’s killing me watching you-” He stopped when he felt a lump build in his throat, not wanting to cry in front of you.

“I’m fine.” You dismissed him every time, not wanting to entertain the idea of breaking down in front of him. The mere fact he knew what happened, what everyone knew, made you feel weak and disgusting. Like a huge spotlight was on you. It was the worst feeling you’d ever felt, like you were standing naked on a stage, vulnerable and exposed.

Eddie bit his cheek and looked away. “No, you’re not, Y/n.” He swallowed roughly, looking back to you. “And that’s okay. I know you feel like it’s not, but it is. You don’t have to shut me out. Please, baby, you can’t shut me out.”

You squinted your eyes shut and looked to the wall. “Eddie,” You begged. “I can’t.”

You can’t.

That was the first time you had said that. That you couldn’t talk about it. Your voice had broke, just only a little. It was the first time he’d seen real emotion in three days. He didn’t want to push you, but you had to let it out. There was no way you could keep on living like this. It wasn’t healthy.

Eddie looked toward the window, it was pitch black outside, not even the flood lights were on. They had quit working a few weeks ago and no one had come to fix it yet. He swallowed back anxiety and nausea. “I know you’re scared-”

“No, you don’t.” You snapped, still refusing to look at him. “You don’t know how I feel. Nobody knows how I feel. They’re just trying to be nice.”

“Then tell me, baby.” He begged, placing his hand on your knee.

You shoved it off, storming up and escaping to the bathroom, slamming the door and locking it just as quick. The shower was turned on within seconds, then he heard you crying, trying to muffle it with the sound of your sweater, or maybe it was a towel.

You hated him. You had to. There couldn’t have been no other explanation for your anger and hatred. You blamed him for what happened, for not coming to your rescue sooner, you just wouldn’t admit out loud. He felt like you’d been killed that night, like your very spirit had been snuffed away like a lit match. He missed you. It was his fault. It was because of him. He was the reason your spirit was gone.

He put his head in his hands and cried.

•

“I don’t know what I’m doing, Wayne. She won’t talk to me. She’ll barely even look at me. She won’t let me touch her. She won’t…she won’t tell me what happened. She blames me. I know she does.” Eddie pushed out air between his lips, struggling to breath. He’d showed up to Wayne’s mid panic attack one morning when you refused to get out of bed. The both of you almost broke out in a fight, except you wouldn’t fight. You didn’t have the energy. It had been another three days gone by.

He was sitting on his uncle’s old sofa, going back and forth from putting his head between his knees or fisting his hair with his hands. Wayne was making himself a fresh cup of coffee, watching as his nephew suffer through his anxiety.

“No, buddy, she doesn’t. She’s just hurtin’.” He poured the coffee into his mug.

“Then why won’t she let me in?” He bounced his knee. “Why won’t she let me help her? She blames me.”

“Try to imagine yourself in her shoes, Ed.” Wayne came over, cradling his mug as he pulled out the kitchen chair, sitting himself in front of his nephew.

“I can’t.” Eddie shook his head. “I can’t even begin to imagine what she’s feeling.”

“That’s my point.” His uncle continued, raising his mug. “You don’t have the slightest idea what she’s going through, you’ve got to give her more time. It’s not even been a week yet, buddy. I know you’re anxious to help her. She’s lucky to have you.”

She’s lucky to have you.

He bit his nail nervously, thinking back to leaving you at the trailer, covered in blankets and refusing to get out of bed. He shouldn’t have left you, but he was on the verge of another breakdown and needed his uncle.

“Why is she so angry?” He gulped, his throat dry from his quick breathing. “I’ve never seen her this angry before.”

“Because she doesn’t know how to process what she went through.” Wayne placed his coffee on the table after another sip. “When we’re hurtin’, sometimes it turns to anger. I think you can relate to that, huh?”

He could. With the kind of life he led, his childhood, everything after vecna and the trauma he endured, he knew exactly what his father figure was talking about. When you hurt, when you have nothing else to feel, you get pissed off.

•

When Eddie got back home, he knew you were still in bed. The lights were off, the tv was off. The poor fish you shared hadn’t been fed yet. He quietly walked into your shared bedroom, the sunlight peering through the curtains, illuminating your face. The blankets were tangled around you, your arms hugging the pillow. You stared at the wall into nothingness, s blank look on your face that spoke volumes of emotion. You were heartbroken.

Eddie watched you for awhile, making his way to sit at the foot of the bed. He sat by your feet, putting his hand on your blanket covered ankles, squeezing them reassuringly. “How about something to eat, huh?”

It took you several seconds to respond. “I’m not hungry.”

He would much rather you be angry than like this. A zombie, unwillingly to move or breath, not able to function or communicate with him.

“What about some tea?” He tried, eyes soft and round, his hand softly rubbing circles on your leg.

You cringed under his touch, shaking your head. “I don’t want tea, Eddie.”

Then, Eddie’s throat filled with a ball of sick, but he quickly forced it back down. You said his name with such malice, such hatred and venom that told him everything he needed to know. You did blame him.

His eyes filled with tears and he stared at the wall. “I’m so sorry, baby.” He closed his eyes. “I’m so sorry for everything.”

He’d said it time and time again, but his words came out in a desperation that he hadn’t yet conveyed to you.

“I don’t blame you for hating me.” He sniffled, his curls shaking with the weight of his shoulders. “I’m to blame and-”

“Eddie, please,” You sobbed, making him practically flinch in surprise. You were crying. “Stop it.”

He let out a whimper, falling to his knees so he could kneel at your head. “Honey,” He cried. “My baby girl, I can’t stand the thought of you hating me. Please, angel, just let me take care of you. Talk to me. Let me in.” He was begging you with a cracked, broken voice that made you sob right along with him.

His hand went to touch your cheek, but you flinched and sat up, bringing the blankets up to your chest. “It’s not you, Eddie!” You blubbered, snot running down your nose. “I don’t hate you! You can’t think that! P-please, don’t think that!”

He crawled up on the bed to sit in front of you, hot tears still rolling down his face. “Then why are you shutting me out? We’re supposed to be a team! We promised each other! You promised me and I promised you! Please, baby, I have to know what happened! It’s killing me!”

“I can’t!” You exclaimed, your tousled up hair falling at the sides. “Oh, God, Eddie, I can’t! I can’t talk about it! I can’t do anything! I just want to lay here and die!” You coiled over and wailed broken-heartedly, a song of cries that boiled out of your throat and paralyzed you. You curled up into a ball and practically screamed into the blankets. Eddie was shaking, bringing up a hand to bit as hard as he could, not knowing if you would allow him to touch you,

He placed one hand on you gently, and when you didn’t pull away, he quickly gathered you in his arms. “I’m here, baby. I’m here. I’m here, sweetheart. Just let it out. Let it out, let it out.”

You let him hold you, and in desperation of the moment, you wrapped your arm around his leg to bring the heat of his body flush to yours. You bawled your heart out into him, emptying all your fears and sorrow.

“I- I can’t stop- thinking a-bout him!” You said hysterically, your tears making his jean covered knee damp. “It hurt so-so bad, Eddie!” It sounded like your cries caused you physical pain, your words coming out choppy and broken.

Your bruised ribs ached from your heavy sobs, your hands going to hold your stomach. “God, oh, God, Eddie, I can’t do it! I can’t! I can’t!”

“You don’t have to.” He said firmly, trying to control his own sobs so you could understand him. “You give all that pain to me, okay? You give it all to me. I can handle it. You let me take care of you. I’m always going to take care of you, sweetheart.”

Your bruised nose had started to bleed onto his jeans, going unnoticed from the both of you. You were hyperventilating, shaking and practically convulsing in his arms.

“Come on, baby,” He held you to his chest, your body still curled up against him. “It’s okay, I’m here. Just let it out. Tell me what you need to.”

It hurt. It hurt so bad. He hurt me so bad and I couldn’t stop him. I’m so scared. I’m scared he’s going to find me. I don’t want you to look at me differently. I feel so weak. Please still love me. Please stay with me. Don’t tell anyone I’m afraid.

You cried for so many things, but he listened to every last word you had to offer him. You told him what happened. A man had followed you into the bedroom, forced you down and split your legs apart, punching you in the nose and kneeing you in the ribs, shoving himself inside you like a sword, piercing it’s way into you roughly. You had cried and cried, screamed and begged, till you didn’t, finally going into shock and laying there, taking it.

Eddie had tried his hardest not to breakdown at your confession, but he could only do so much. He held you into the dark of night, promising what he had said. He was always going to take care of you.

[surdino]

can you do 31 with Steve x Eddie x Billy please 🫣

Send me drabble requests here!

Of course I can!

This is a little long, but oh well. It happens.

---

Eddie walks into Steve's house and immediately knows something isn't right. It's eerily quiet, even though he knows both Steve and Billy are here. Two cars parked in the driveway.

There's this feeling he gets ever since everything went down. A sense exactly when things aren't supposed to be going the way they should. The doctors call it anxiety. But here's the kicker.

Eddie has never been wrong.

So when he walks into the Harrington house and feels a shiver run down his spine, he knows. Something is wrong. Terribly wrong.

"Steve?" He calls, up the stairs. If they were in the living room the TV would be on, or he'd hear the two of them talking. "Billy?" 

No response. 

Eddie kicks off his shoes before creeping up the stairs. Socks silent and treading carefully. There's no way to tell what he'll find up there.

And he sees it, before he's even made it all the way up the stairs. He can't even be proud of himself for getting it right, yet again.

A bloody handprint, right there on the wall. Smeared like someone had been trying to keep themselves upright while walking. 

His heart thunders in his chest. "Steve?! Billy?!" 

He doesn't care about being heard or seen right now. What he needs is to make sure his boyfriends are okay. And in one piece.

He books it up the stairs, down the hallway and into Steve's bedroom.

"Steve," he sighs, sliding to his knees in front of the bed Steve's sitting on. His pastel polo and khakis are covered in red. Bloody, disgusting, red. 

Eddie reaches out, but Steve flinches back. "Don't touch me," he whispers, his eyes big and scared like he'd seen something he shouldn't.

"Steve, I need to know you're okay. Where are you bleeding, where's the wound? What happened? Steve, where's Billy?" 

"I'm here," Billy says, emerging from Steve's bathroom, holding a wet rag. "He's okay. Not hurt. Just bloody." 

Eddie stands up, turning to his other boyfriend. "What happened?" He needs to know. If he doesn't know his mind is going to make up some crazy story like how Steve got in a fight with a bear or how he went out and killed someone.

"Steve, he," Billy pauses, taking a deep breath through his nose. "He was at home with us. I got here at three, and you got here at four. He was with us watching TV and drinking beers. That's what happened, okay?" 

Eddie stares, mouth agape. Billy has a smear of blood on his otherwise white shirt. Eddie is already nodding before he's even realised what he has agreed to.

"Yeah, okay. He was with us. But what did he do?" He doesn't know whether to turn to Billy or to Steve this time around. 

Steve makes the choice for him. "I killed him," he says. Eddie turns to him, watches his watery eyes snap up to his. "I killed him." Steve's hands are shaking, covered in blood. Red drips from his fingers to the floor.

Eddie is in front of him again, taking those shaking hands in his, not caring he's getting dirty. Not caring that Steve is bringing him into this. "Who, Steve? Who did you kill?"

"Neil," Billy says, taking one of Steve's hands and starting to clean the blood. He shouldn't. Steve should get in the shower. They have to burn the clothes. "He killed my dad."

Eddie turns to Steve. "Why'd you- why did you do that?"

Steve swallows, his throat clicking. His eyes move from Eddie to Billy. "B-Because I'd promised to do anything... To keep you guys safe." 

"You did, sweetheart," Billy says, cupping Steve's cheek. "You did so well, okay? We just have to fix things now, yeah? It'll be okay." 

Steve nods.

"Get him in the shower," Eddie says. "I'm burning his clothes in the woods. Cleaning the house. Where's the body?"

Because he can't turn back time to prevent Steve from doing what he did. But he can make things better. 

Billy understands. They're both scrappy. "The quarry," he says. "He'll be found soon." But that's okay. It's perfect. They'll make sure of it.

[lionlena]

Dancing With Your Ghost (JavierPeñaxreader) Epilogue

A/N:

Ok, so that's the end of this story. I started writing it almost 7 months ago, not really knowing where it would lead me and having the idea until chapter 6… Along the way, I abandoned this story for Joel… But sooner or later, my heart always missed Javi 🥺 I would like to thank you all for your comments and likes. Everyone who read this series enjoyed it. I hope you'll be happy with the ending🥰

Epilogue

Since Javier found out you were pregnant, theoretically nothing has changed. He still loved you madly, he still cared for you, you still spent magical Sundays, and he still worked hard on building the house.

On the other hand, everything has changed. Javier worked even harder and at the same time spent every free moment with you. Even if it meant driving half an hour into town just to spend twenty minutes of your lunch break with you, he did it. And of course, he couldn't keep his hands off you. And he fulfilled all your desires without blinking an eye, including sexual ones. You suddenly discovered that pregnant women can be very horny, but that was no problem for Javier. If he had to, he would fall on his knees in front of you every evening and listen to your moans with pleasure.

You also noticed that the bigger your belly was, the prouder Javier was. When you were walking through the city streets or sitting in a restaurant, he would always put his hand on your belly and look around with a cocky smile as if to say, 'Look this is my work. Thanks to me, her belly is swelling.'

It made you laugh, but at the same time, you didn't want to take away his joy. After all, he deserved it for what a wonderful man he was to you, for supporting you every step of the way and going with you to all your doctor's appointments. Thanks to this, you felt confident and your fears about your child's health decreased significantly. Everything was going perfectly.

When you were seven months pregnant, the construction of your house was officially completed. With a wide smile, Javier led you into your beautiful living room. And even though you had been there many times before, somehow knowing that everything was over filled you with delight and you looked at everything as if you were seeing it for the first time.

"Everything is amazing." You said with emotion in your voice.

Javier kissed you passionately while tenderly stroking your belly.

"It's all for you, my little ghost, and for our baby."

Then suddenly Javier knelt down on one knee in front of you and pulled out a small box from his pocket that contained an engagement ring. You were speechless at that moment.

"Y/N, you are the most wonderful person I have ever met in my life. You taught me that love is more than a physical connection, it is a connection of souls. You gave me peace and warmth that warms my heart. Please be my wife. Be Mrs. Peña. Let's have a little wedding next week."

You looked at him in shock and quickly said, "No."

Javier looked at you surprised, maybe even sad. "No?" he repeated quietly.

Seeing the fear in his eyes, you knew you had to fix the situation quickly. "No... I mean yes, but no."

This didn't help at all. Javier was still kneeling in front of you, now on both knees and tilted his head to the side, looking at you with those puppy dog eyes. "Yes, but no?" He asked confused.

You took a deep breath and gently stroked his hair. "I want to marry you." You said calmly, and the sadness instantly disappeared from his face. "But not next week."

Javier smiled coquettishly. "What are you doing next week?"

You huffed and pointed to your belly. "I'm carrying your baby, in a week, in two... basically for the next two months."

He laughed softly and kissed your belly sweetly. "And? I still don't see the problem. One little extra guest isn't a problem."

You groaned in annoyance. "Javi, I don't want to get married with a huge belly... I don't want to be ugly and fat in my wedding photos."

Javier immediately tightened his grip around your waist, gently squeezing your ass and still kissing your belly.

"Mi amor, hermosa, cariño, how can you say such terrible things about my future wife? You are beautiful, the most wonderful, and I can't wait to see that beautiful belly in a white dress... Oh, believe me... This makes me get hard..."

You gasped in surprise as his hands squeezed your ass tighter.

"Javier..."

"I'm telling the truth." He kissed your stomach and looked down at you. "But I will understand and respect any decision you make. We can even have a big wedding next year if you want."

And suddenly, as usual, all your fears disappeared.

"Actually…" You started quietly. "You're right. I want a small, modest wedding and I want our baby to be born with your surname."

Javier smiled widely and gently placed the ring on your finger. Then he stood up and looked at you with eyes shining with joy.

“Y/N, I dreamed of this moment.”

He cupped your face in his hands and kissed you, but it was a different kiss. It wasn't a passionate, hot kiss... Or hungry or longing... It was something completely different. It was a kiss filled with love and gratitude. Your heart was beating like crazy and suddenly you felt your baby move. You placed Javier's hand on your pregnant belly and he chuckled.

"Someone here is as excited as Daddy." You purred against his lips and he kissed you lovingly once again.

A week later, you and Javier were married in the meadow behind your house. You were wearing a plain white dress that fit your pregnant belly really nicely. You wore a wreath of white flowers on your head. It was surprising, but you felt like a princess. Everything seemed wonderful and so peaceful. You said 'yes' surrounded by your loved ones and friends, and then you all had fun together until late.

That night, Javier took you to your bedroom and made love to you in such a gentle and caring way as he had never done before. And he wasn't just doing it because of your pregnancy. He really wanted to prove to you that he will be the best husband in the world.

Two months later, after almost ten hours of labor, your son, José Peña, was born. You were tired after giving birth, but happy as you held your healthy baby in your arms. And for the first time, you saw former DEA agent Javier Peña cry like a little baby. When he took your newborn son for the first time and looked at this little miracle created with his help, so tiny that he could hold José with one hand, he just cried. And he wasn't even ashamed of it. He hugged his son to his chest and kissed his little head, whispering sweet words. It was a sight that melted your heart and you were sure that Javi would be the best dad in the world.

...

You woke up one night and Javier wasn't next to you. You felt anxious for a moment but quickly calmed down. You started listening to see if José was crying, but you didn't hear anything. Still, you decided to get up and look into his crib. However, your son and husband were nowhere to be found. Your heart started beating a little faster. Common sense told you that nothing had happened. Maybe José couldn't sleep, and Javier took him for a short car ride. It was something that quickly calmed your three-month-old baby. But Javi never did it alone. You quickly went out of the house to the terrace to check if there was a car outside and that's when you saw them.

Javier sat on a rocking bench with his son safely placed in his strong arms. For a moment, you wanted to be angry at him and tell him that he shouldn't scare you like that, but... It was such a sweet and adorable sight that it melted your heart.

However, you noticed that something was bothering Javier. He didn't take his eyes off his son's sleeping face. You carefully sat down on the bench next to him and touched his arm.

"Mi amor? What happened? José couldn't sleep?"

Javi still didn't take his eyes off the baby. He gently touched his son's chubby cheek with his finger.

"He was crying, but as soon as I changed his diaper he fell asleep, but I... I couldn't put him down in the cradle..."

You smiled and nodded. You knew this feeling very well. You yourself have held your baby in your arms many times after he fell asleep. However, Javier's next words surprised you.

"I felt a sudden fear. I was afraid to put him down... I was afraid that as soon as I let him out of my arms, something bad would happen to him."

You sighed and gently stroked his cheek.

"Javi, what's going on?"

Javier finally looked away from his son and looked at you. He smiled sadly.

"I don't know, cariño... The cocky, arrogant, and malicious DEA agent suddenly became soft and scared."

You giggled quietly. "You're still cocky and devilishly handsome."

Your comment made Javier laugh softly. You always knew how to cheer him up. He carefully placed your son on his chest, holding him with only one arm. So that he can wrap his free hand around you and pull you to his side. He kissed your forehead and whispered:

"I wonder if I've made the world a safer place for our son. Catching Escobar, and taking down the Cali Cartel, does it all matter? The world is still dangerous. Maybe retiring was a mistake. There are so many things that could hurt him. So many bad things, bad people. Now he's still tiny... For now, I can really wrap my arms around him and protect him, but then what...

You smiled at him understandingly. Javier always had a tendency to get lost in thought. Often unnecessary.

"Javi, darling. The world is dangerous, and we are not able to protect our baby from everything. This is the pain and fear of all parents. In a few months, our son will start walking and he will surely trip over a stone more than once. You want to remove all the stones from the area?"

Javi looked at you with determination. "If necessary."

You rolled your eyes.

"You know it's impossible, but you know what is possible? Our comfort. We will wipe his tears, bandage his hurt knee, and assure him that we are with him. And this is how we will keep him safe. At every stage of his life we will love him and accept him and thanks to this, he will know that he can always come to us and ask us for help.

Javier looked at you with eyes full of boundless love.

"You are very smart, hermosa."

You giggled quietly. "I learned a thing or two about life by being a ghost."

Javier laughed softly. Then he kissed you on the forehead and then your son. He looked at you with those puppy eyes of his.

"Can we sit here for a while? I don't want to put him in the crib just yet."

You nodded and snuggled into his warm, strong body. You looked at your son's calm face and realized that he felt exactly the same as you. That Javier Peña would do literally anything, even burn down the entire world, to keep you safe, happy, and loved. You closed your eyes and whispered, "We can stay here until morning."

You felt Javier hug you tighter and rest his chin on your head. You no longer needed words. Everything was perfect, right in that moment, when he held in his arms the two people he loved and needed most in the world.

...

Six years later, you still felt the same peace and security when you were in your husband's arms. You've had harder times, but you've always been in this together. You didn't hide anything from each other, you didn't fight each other. You loved each other.

Your son was healthy and growing quickly. From a baby, he became a small, charming boy who loved life. He was cute and feisty like his Daddy, but he was also calm like you... And he wasn't the only one.

Four years after your wedding, your little girl, Maya Peña, was born. And if you thought José was like his dad, then... Your little girl looked like a little copy of her daddy. Her eyes were identical.

And currently, she was looking at you with those sweet brown puppy eyes that were tearful and very tired. She put her thumb in her mouth and hiccuped. Her cheeks were red and the hairs on her forehead were wet.

"Oh my little one, you really need a nap."

"Papi…" She whined indistinctly and you already knew you had no choice.

You've been trying to put her down for a nap for the past forty minutes, but she's only gotten more grumpy and cranky. There was no other option. You must have to used a secret weapon. You took her in your arms and left the house, heading towards the horse paddock.

Your son was just sitting on a little white pony and looked very happy. His grandfather Chucho held the reins and Javi secured his son, but you knew that your little boy could handle it even on his own. So you walked up to the fence and waved your hand. Javi immediately said something to his son. You could only guess that he was asking him to hold on tight and be careful.

When he got closer to you and your daughter, he immediately noticed what the problem was and without asking, he reached out his hands, taking Maya away from you. His two-year-old daughter immediately snuggled into his chest and let out a few grumpy purrs. Javi chuckled and kissed her head.

"Someone here is tired but doesn't want to go to sleep?" He asked, knowing the answer perfectly well. "It's okay. Daddy can handle it."

He smiled at you and kissed your forehead, whispering. "I love you."

You smiled and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Even after all these years, he still took every opportunity to make sure you knew how much he loved you.

"I'll go to José." You said and kissed your daughter on the head before Javier took her towards the house.

When your son saw you, he smiled broadly. Chucho gave you a friendly smile too.

"Is everything okay with the little princess?" he asked with concern.

You immediately felt your heart melt. Your children not only had a wonderful, loving, and caring father, but also a wonderful grandfather who always spoiled them and cared for them.

You nodded and moved closer to your son, placing your hand on his back.

"Yes, the heat today is just bothering her. But I'm sure Javier's magic will work on her and she'll be asleep soon."

Your son giggled (in the same way as his daddy) and asked, "Papi can do magic?"

You smiled widely and touched his sweet cheek.

"Yes, it always puts you and your little sister to sleep in minutes."

Your son eagerly nodded and added: "And he can turn ghosts into people!"

You laughed. This was your son's favorite story. Of course, Javier told your story in the form of a fairy tale, omitting the tragic moments and changing a few things. And of course, only you and Javi knew that it wasn't just a made-up story at all.

Half an hour later, your son finished riding the pony and, together with his grandfather, took the pony to the meadow so that the animal could enjoy the fresh grass and rest.

You came back home, quietly entered the living room and your heart beat faster.

Javier lay on the couch and slept with his baby girl, who was dozing comfortably on his broad chest. You saw them both calm and finally resting. You looked at them, enchanted, for a moment. Then you went to the kitchen and started preparing lemonade. You were sure that soon your son and his grandfather would come home, and then your daughter and Javi would wake up. And you all need a sip of refreshing, cool lemonade. Soon your quiet home will once again be filled with the joyful screams of children and the laughter of their father. And as always, Javier will grab your hips whenever he gets the chance, kiss your neck and whisper some dirty words in your ear, because some things never change.

And your love for the man who danced with your ghost will never change.

...

MASTERLIST

Part I

Part XII

Taglist: @aestheticangel612 , @kittenlittle24 , @hxpburn76 , @creedslove , @ranahx , @yyiikes , @fuglyputa24 , @picketniffler

[prettypinkporkchop]

Can I get a Quill atera x reader where it shows their life from being imprinted to the cute time spicy times and even fights then when they get married have 5 kids 4 boys 1 girl and playing around at the beach with the other wolfs and their families to when they are watching their own kids weddings and then when they are old and then turns out that was all in Quills head cause that’s what he saw when he imprinted and the ending goes hi I’m quill I’m the love of ur life cause that’s what the reader kept saying in his vision

OH MY GMFUCKING JAHSBDUWJW SUWIABABAJQJBA S I LOVE YOu

I looked at her as she walked up to the garage at Jacob's to check in on her car. She stepped up to me, and I looked into her eyes.

She grabs me by my neck, pulling me down to kiss her. The surroundings seem unfamiliar, but the feeling of her lips on mine is impeccable.

"Quil, I love you. You're the love of my life." Her hand plays with my curls.

Her body pressed against mine as I held her. "My Quil, I want to, if you do." Her eyes look at my eyes and lips.

I can feel her skin on mine.

I see a ring on her finger. "Quil, I love you." I run my fingers over her arm and kiss her forehead. "I love you more."

"You fucking idiot! Why would you do that?!" She's screaming at me and sobbing. "I'm sorry. What can I do to fix this?" I'm scrambling and trying not to cry. "Just go.. I don't want to be around you tonight." She holds up her hand, getting me to stop moving. Her ring shines.

"I have to patrol." She starts crying. Why is she crying? "I want you home tonight." She won't let go of my waist.

I come home and see the pink and white stick on the bathroom counter. Two red lines. My heart is pounding. I'm so happy.

At the doctors, we see the screen. "Looks like we have twins!" She giggles. "Quil, I'm kicking your ass." She glares at me playfully.

I'm holding one boy. He looks just like me.

"Baby! You're the love of my life." She kisses my lips before going to bed.

My hands are traveling down her thighs. I lean down and kiss her waist. She rolls over on her back. I look up at her and smile while holding her knees apart.

I see a ring on my finger. I look over to her bouncing on a big bouncy ball. Her stomach is big again. "Quil, please rub my shoulders."

I look up from my phone on the porch out into the yard to see a little girl and two boys playing. "Dad?" A small voice asks me. I look down to see another boy. "Yes?" I reach down to play with his curly hair. "Momma won't give me another cookie."

"I'm so glad Emily agreed to watch the kids for us!" She gushes in the restaurant. I take her home and..

"Are you really mad at me for wanting to drink with Leah?!" She asks me in shock. "Babe, we have kids now! You can't be doing that shit."

Lots of random flashes of time passing. I'm holding her hand a lot.

Suddenly, I look up to see all of my kids in front of a Christmas tree. They're older. One of my son's have a gnarly beard. "Dad! Hurry and take the picture." My only daughter hisses through her smiling teeth.

"MOM! DAD! I ELOPED!" My daughter runs in the house with her girlfriend. Well, now wife. "Oh! Congrats, my loves!" My wife hugs both of them. Her wife steps up to me and shakes my hand. I shake it and then pull her into a hug. "Thank you for making my daughter happy."

I'm watching my son kiss his bride.

The other son.

The other son.

The first married son has my grand baby.

My wife, she's sick with the fly. "Them slimy kids!" She referred to all of the grandchildren. I can see family photos.

I come to.

I see her eyes staring at me with concern. "Uhm, is my car doing okay, sir?" She giggles awkwardly. "Hi! I'm Quil! I'm the love of your life!" I blurt out and then hold my breath. "Uhm, yikes, I mean, uhm.. hi?" She smiles at me and rolls her eyes. "Cute." She says sarcastically.

[ageofjoshua]

Papa Don’t Preach: Chapter 10

Late!Teen Jake Kiszka x Fem!Reader

────୨ৎ────

Layla and Jake skip school for their doctor’s appointment, where they receive the baby’s gender sealed in an envelope for a planned reveal. While Layla is excited, she grows suspicious of Jake’s distracted behavior and secretive phone activity.

Warnings - mild language, pregnancy, emotional tension

Disclaimer - please let me know of any errors or warnings i might’ve missed!!

────୨ৎ────

Layla and Jake skipped school for their appointment today. Before they left, Karen made one request—have the technician seal the baby’s gender in an envelope so she could plan a proper reveal. She was determined to make sure Layla experienced all the joy of pregnancy, and that included a gender reveal celebration.

“Nervous?”

Layla glanced at Jake, his eyes fixed on the road.

“Not really…” She turned her head toward the window. “I was at first, but then your mom said she wanted to throw us a gender reveal.”

Jake chuckled. “Yeah, she’s just a little excited about becoming a grandma.”

Layla let out a soft laugh—then Jake’s phone buzzed. Without missing a beat, he grabbed it and shoved it between his thighs, keeping his focus ahead.

“Who was that?”

“Hm?” He glanced at her briefly before looking back at the road. “No one. Just… Sam or Josh.”

Before Layla could press him further, they arrived at the doctor’s office. Jake pulled up near the entrance, parking close to the front. He shut off the engine and turned to her.

“Ready?”

Layla nodded. “Ready.”

They headed inside, checked in with the receptionist, and took a seat in the waiting area. Jake rested his hand on her thigh, absentmindedly glancing around the room. Then, his phone buzzed again.

Layla turned her head. “Who keeps texting you?”

“Hm?” Jake looked at her. “It’s no one.”

“Clearly, it’s someone,” Layla mumbled. “They won’t stop texting you…” Layla narrowed her eyes at him. “Why don’t you just answer it?”

The phone buzzed again, and her patience was wearing thin.

“Seriously, Jake. Who keeps texting you?”

Before he could scramble for another excuse, a nurse stepped into the waiting room, clipboard in hand.

“Layla Salazar? The doctor is ready for you.”

Inside the examination room, the silence was heavy. Layla didn’t say a word, but Jake could tell her mind was still on his phone—and whoever was trying so hard to reach him. Still, he acted oblivious.

Jake sat beside her, bouncing his knee up and down as he scrolled through his phone. She shot him a look, nudging him lightly.

“Hey,” she whispered. “Nervous?”

Jake looked up and smirked. “Me? Nah.”

Layla raised a brow.

“Okay, maybe a little,” he admitted, leaning closer. His hand found its usual place on her thigh, giving it a squeeze. “It’s just weird, you know? We’re about to find out if we’re having a son or a daughter, and we don’t even get to know today.”

Layla sighed. “Your mom is really set on this gender reveal.”

Jake chuckled.

Before Layla could speak again, the door swung open, and Doctor Green entered, offering them a warm smile.

“Alright, Layla,” she greeted, flipping through the chart in her hands. “How are you feeling?”

“Pretty good,” Layla said. “Still dealing with some nausea, but it’s not as bad as before.”

“That’s great to hear. Everything looks good from what I can see so far, but we’ll confirm that with the ultrasound.” Doctor Green rolled her stool over to the monitor, pulling on a pair of gloves. “And of course, today’s the big day, right? We’ll be checking for the baby’s gender.”

Layla nodded, resting a hand over her stomach. “Yeah, but…” She glanced at Jake. “We’re not actually finding out today.”

Doctor Green tilted her head. “Oh?”

“My mom wants to throw us a gender reveal,” Jake explained with a slight eye roll. “She told us to have you seal it in an envelope so she can be the one to surprise us.”

Doctor Green chuckled. “Ah, I see. Well, that’s exciting. Alright then, let’s get started.”

Layla lay back as Jake moved closer, keeping his hand in hers. The cool gel sent a shiver through her body, but all discomfort melted away the second the screen lit up with the grainy image of their baby.

Jake exhaled softly, his thumb brushing over the back of Layla’s hand. “There they are…” he murmured.

Layla smiled, her eyes locked on the screen. It still amazed her every time.

Doctor Green adjusted the probe, taking a few measurements before nodding to herself. “Everything looks great,” she confirmed. Then, with a knowing smile, she added, “And I can see the gender.”

Layla felt Jake tense beside her.

“Oh my God,” she breathed.

Jake groaned dramatically. “This is torture.”

Doctor Green laughed as she turned away from the monitor and grabbed an envelope from the counter. She quickly jotted something down, sealed the paper inside, and handed it to Jake.

“Here you go—top secret,” she teased.

Jake took it carefully, staring at it like it held the universe’s greatest mystery. “I should just take a peek,” he muttered.

Layla smacked his arm. “Don’t you dare.”

Jake grinned, tucking the envelope into his pocket. “Fine, fine. But if mom slips up and tells me first, that’s not my fault.”

Layla rolled her eyes but smiled, squeezing his hand.

The ride home was quiet, thick with anticipation. Layla held the envelope tightly in her hands, knowing it contained the answer to one of the biggest questions of their lives. It still felt surreal.

“You know… you can take a peek if you want.”

Layla glanced over at Jake. “What?”

He nodded toward the envelope before turning his eyes back to the road. “The envelope.”

“Oh. No.” Layla shook her head. “Your mom wants us to wait for the gender reveal… so that’s what I’ll do. What we’ll do.”

They pulled into the garage, the engine humming to a stop.

“Home sweet home,” Jake murmured.

Layla unbuckled her seatbelt and stepped out with a sigh. “I need a nap.”

Jake was right behind her, his hands finding her waist as he pulled her close from behind. “Me too,” he murmured, pressing a few soft kisses to her neck. “Want me to rub your back, baby?”

Layla let out a small hum of approval as they walked inside.

“Where should I leave the envelope?”

“Anywhere, baby. Let’s just get upstairs.” Jake murmurs against her neck, taking the envelope from her hand and tossing it onto the coffee table without a second thought.

With a satisfied hum, he pulls away, lacing his fingers with hers as he leads her up the stairs. Once in his room, they settle onto the bed—Layla curled into his chest, his hand resting over the small curve of her belly.

“Sleepy?” he asks softly.

She gives a small nod, her eyes already fluttering shut.

Jake continues to rub slow circles over her stomach, listening to the soft rhythm of her breathing as she drifts off. His pocket buzzes. Once. Twice. Again. With a quiet sigh, he slips his hand into his jeans, pulling out his phone to find a string of missed calls and texts lighting up the screen.

Before he can even process them, another call comes through. His jaw tightens. Carefully, he shifts out of bed, making sure Layla doesn’t stir as he slips out of the room and answers in a hushed voice.

“I already told you, I’m done. I’m not coming ov—”

A sharp voice on the other end cuts him off. Jake glances back through the cracked door, his eyes lingering on Layla’s sleeping form.

His fingers tighten around the phone.

“…Alright. Fine. I’ll be there in twenty.”

He ends the call, exhaling sharply as he leans against the wall.

Jake takes one last glance at Layla, peacefully curled up in his bed, before slipping out of the room and heading downstairs.

By the time Layla woke, the room was dark. She blinked sleepily, rubbing her eyes before rolling over—expecting to find Jake beside her.

But he wasn’t there.

Frowning, she reached for the bedside lamp and flicked it on, scanning the room. No sign of him.

“Jake?” she called softly, glancing toward the bathroom door. Silence.

She wasn’t worried. Not yet. He was probably downstairs with his family. Sliding on her slippers, she made her way down the hall and descended the stairs.

As she entered the living room, she spotted Josh and Sam sprawled on the couch, lazily watching TV. But no Jake.

“Hey, guys…” she greeted, but before she could ask about Jake, Karen appeared from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish towel.

“Oh, hi, Layla. Dinner’s ready.” She smiled warmly.

“Oh… thank you.” Layla forced a small smile, though her mind was elsewhere. “Is Jake in the basement?”

Karen tilted her head. “Mm? Oh, no. His car is gone.”

Layla’s stomach twisted slightly. “Did he say where he was going?”

Karen shook her head. “He was already gone when Kelly and I got home. Did he not tell you?”

Layla hesitated. “No… I—I took a nap after we got back from the doctor’s…”

“I’m sure he’ll be back soon,” Karen assured her, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Probably out job hunting again.”

“Or hanging out with Chris and the guys…” Josh muttered under his breath.

Sam chuckled. “Wouldn’t be surprised.”

Karen shot them a look. “Boys.”

Layla’s gaze lingered on them, an uneasy feeling settling in her stomach.

“Come on, sweetheart,” Karen said, guiding her toward the kitchen. “Let me fix you a plate, and you can tell me how your appointment went.”

Layla nodded absently, barely registering the conversation. Her mind was elsewhere, replaying the last time she’d seen Jake.

Karen gave her a knowing smile as she reached for a drawer. “Oh, and I found the envelope.” She winked.

Layla barely reacted, her thoughts drifting back to the unanswered question gnawing at her—

Where did Jake go?

[that-bi-fan]

so. I don't think I'll ever finish this fic. a) I lost the motivation to continue it, and I don't want to force myself to keep going. b) even if I did continue it, I don't know where I'd go with it. so, without further ado;

Coma!Buck canon divergence! AKA Eddie's in the coma dream!

"Can you help me find my dad?"

Buck hesitates, his feet slowing for just a second, but it's enough to second-guess himself. He needs you, a voice in his head says, Needs your help. Help him, Evan.

He looks toward the direction he was going, and can't remember why he was running in the first place. Weird. He looks at Christopher and decides to help. It's what he does. Fix things. 

He smiles. "Sure, bud. C'mon." 

Christopher walks in front of him, Buck's footsteps falling into sync with his instantly. The hospital hallways twist and turn, but it doesn't seem to bother Chris. They walk in silence, and Buck stops walking to let Christopher get a little ahead. That's when he notices the boy's shirt flickering. One moment, he's wearing a dark blue jacket over a striped shirt, the next, he's wearing a white and yellow striped long-sleeve. The latter is soaked through with water. Buck's ears start to ring.

"Buck!"

He spins, looking for who yelled his name. It sounded like Eddie, but he'd never heard so much panic in Eddie's voice before. The hallway behind him is empty, but every single door is spattered with blood. Noise comes from all around him, voices yelling; "Firefighter down!", "A firefighter's been shot!", "Thirty feet of wet earth, coming right down on top of him.",  "We'll do our best.", "Are you hurt?" "Can you hear me?!" until it's all too much for Buck to handle. 

He stumbles, catching himself on the wall. Christopher sits in front of him, on a bed that doesn't belong in a hospital, wearing a green flannel button-up. "Hey, Buck," He says. Something in his head is yelling no no no wrong wrong WRONG. Buck sinks to his knees.

"Where's Dad?"

Now Buck can taste something distinctly metallic on his tongue. Eddie's blood, he realizes. He's wearing that damn white shirt, the one he threw out in this same hospital over a year ago. Eddie's blood sticks to him, in little dots. Half his face is covered in those dots. Christopher shouldn't be seeing him like this. 

He turns away, When did he stand? He can't remember, and finds that the hospital has shifted so that he's inside a room. Doctors and nurses are moving around quickly, trying to patch up someone on a gurney. Buck moves out of their way, but still, a nurse clips his shoulder. "Ah, sorry I-" Buck stops mid-apology when he recognizes her face. 

"Taylor?" 

Everyone in the room stops moving. Looking around, Buck notices other familiar faces on the medical staff. The doctor holding wads of blood-soaked gauze is wearing Ali's face. A nurse by the door looks like Abby. The one bringing in fresh gauze resembles Connor. In the middle of it all, on the gurney, is Eddie. 

Buck breathes, and everything falls back into motion. 

He rushes forward, grabbing gauze from Not-Connor. He practically throws himself onto the gurney, looking for the source of the blood, of Eddie's pain, but all he can see is red. The others don't even try to tell him to stop. 

Buck feels for something, anything, that would reveal itself as a wound. "C'mon, Eds, please. Come back. I need you." He puts a hand on Eddie's face, leaving behind a bloody handprint. Eddie's eyes snap open, and Buck can swear his heart stops.

"Hey, Buck. Good to see you." Eddie's voice sounds off, sounds far too calm for their current situation, but Buck can't bring himself to care. The bleeding's stopped. He's okay. He throws his arms around Eddie's neck and pulls him in for a hug. He fights the lump in his throat so they can actually talk, but when he pulls away, he feels himself sink ever so slightly. No, no no- He looks down to see he's knee-deep in mud.

Eddie doesn't look very worried for a man almost entirely buried in mud. Buck panics, trying to pull Eddie out. The hospital room is gone, replaced by an open area. Around him is his family, the 118, looking on as Buck struggles. Eddie says something, so quiet Buck barely hears it. He leans in to hear better.  

"I'm still alive down here!"

Rain starts pelting him. It soaks through his shirt. The blood that dried in it starts to run. He's stuck in the mud, watching in horror as Eddie sinks in further. "No! Eddie! Please-" Buck screams as Eddie sinks completely. He claws at the ground, feeling himself sink deeper. He looks at his family, his eyes pleading for them to help, but all they do is stare. He's almost neck-deep when he hears an echo of his own voice saying, "Wait. You all think he's dead." Bobby stares into space as he responds, "Nobody thinks that." Chimney has the same look on his face when he says, "We just don't know how to get him out." Buck is completely buried when Hen says, "Nobody's giving up, Buck. Nobody. We're gonna find him."

When Buck opens his eyes again, he doesn’t know where he is. It's like he's in an empty space. There's no visible light source, but he can see completely fine. It doesn't make any sense. When he was with Maddie, and later with Hen and Chimney, everything, sans Doug, seemed plausible. Like it was a normal, albeit weird, day. But with Eddie, it's like he's just reliving his greatest regrets and traumatic events, one after another. 

The shirt clings to him, half-dry already. 

Buck hears an echo of footsteps, and turns to find himself facing Eddie. "Buck?" He asks, "What are you doing here? Are you okay?" Words stick in Buck's throat. He's vaguely aware of a stinging pain, reminders of scratches that took two weeks to heal after the tsunami. "Eddie-" "Where's Christopher?" There's a roaring in his ears, a noise of chaos that he can hear, but can't see. 

"Eddie." It's a plea this time. For him to understand. Buck feels like his windpipe is collapsing. Eddie still doesn't get it, or maybe he does, but he's denying it. "Why do you have his glasses?" There's something in Eddie's voice that kills Buck. 

"I'm sorry." Is all he says. Tears roll down his face. "I'm sorry," he repeats, over and over and over, but no apology can bring back someone's kid. His best friend's kid. His kid.

"Oh, you're sorry? Sorry isn't gonna cut it, Buck. You lost my kid. How can I ever forgive something like that?!" Eddie's angry now, and rightfully so. But this isn't how it went. Right? "Eddie-" He starts again. "No, Buck. You don't get to try and apologize. Do you know what this is doing to us? Wake up, damn it!"

Buck blinks. "..What?"

Eddie rolls his eyes, closing the distance between them. His nose is inches from Buck's. "You heard me." He shoves at Buck's chest. Buck stumbles, not even trying to catch himself. He hits the floor hard. "Eddie, I-I have no idea what you're talking about." He uses his hands to push himself backwards, scraping his palms on asphalt as Eddie keeps walking towards him. Asphalt? Where am I now? Eddie grabs the front of his shirt, lifting him up. "I need you. I need you to understand." Eddie's voice breaks. His hands find Buck's. "I need you to wake up. You can't die. You hear me? Chris needs you, hell, we all need you. Wake up. Please."

Buck pulls away from his grip. He walks backwards slowly. "You're not making any sense, Eds. I'm here." Buildings start to take shape in the void, and they look incredibly familiar. Buck hits something solid. Metal, feels like. Eddie starts to change before his eyes. His hair grows longer, the bags under his eyes fade, he stands straighter. Buck turns away from Eddie as the sun shines bright in his eyes. “Wake up, Buck. I need you.” A second, unseen person interrupts.

“Diaz, you wanna ride with the kid to the hospital?”

The pieces start to fall into place. He knows what's coming. But still, he tries to stop it. “No. No- Eddie, move-!” Eddie makes eye contact with Buck as he speaks. “Yeah, that'd be gre-” “No!” A shot rings out just as Buck shoves Eddie out of the way. The bullet hits him anyway, tearing a hole through Eddie's chest and Buck's shoulder. Both scream in pain.

They don't hit the floor like Buck expected them too. They hit something soft. Buck sits up, realizing with horror that they're back in the hospital room from earlier, on the gurney. His shoulder stops hurting. 

“Two firefighters shot! Not much is known at this time, but one of them has so much to live for, and the other keeps failing to fix things and can't save the people he loves! How sad! I'm Taylor Kelly, signing off!” “Clear!”

Electricity burns through him, and he screams.

Memories flood his brain, memories of the shooting, the well collapse, the tsunami. Eddie bleeds under him. His blood pools onto the floor. Buck sees the rain, remembers the way he felt when he was hanging like a rag-doll. Remembers Eddie futilely trying to pull his dead body back up to the ladder. He sobs. Hands pull at him, yanking him off of the gurney, off and away from Eddie. Connor packs gauze into Eddie's wound.

“No!” Buck screams, fighting against the people separating him from Eddie. I can't let him die. Just as he breaks free, Eddie gasps, sitting up in the gurney. “Buck? What are you doing here? Are you okay?” He asks. Buck shakes his head. “Eddie- Eddie, listen-” He takes a step forward, and water begins to rise. It flows quickly.

By the time Buck reaches the gurney, the water is up to his chest.

Eddie sits on the gurney, watching Buck come closer. “That's a lot of water,” he remarks. Buck glares up at him. “Oh, really? Is it?” Out of the corner of his eye, Buck swears he sees a small body floating toward him, wearing the same clothes Chris had on at the pier. He ignores it. It's not real. It's not real. It's not- “Buck!”

Buck spins. That's Chris's voice. That's him! He needs help! “Chris?! Christopher?! Where are you?” He's treading water already, one hand gripping the gurney to anchor himself. The blood on his shirt drains into the water, coloring it red. Eddie leans forward, his mouth close to Buck's ear.

[cloud-player]

Deathbeds - ratiorine drabble

Song Fic - Bring Me The Horizon: Deathbeds

The words hit Veritas' heart like a hundred shards of ever-frozen ice. This was the plan, he had to remind himself. He told you to do this. He doesn't mean it.

"Ratio, you wretch."

And yet, somehow the hurt in Aventurine's colorful eyes were truthful. Genuine. So fucking honest that Veritas had to look away and fix his gaze on a ridiculously empty bookshelf in Sunday's room.

Aventurine... Veritas clenched his fists. He really didn't like the way Sunday talked down on the IPC ambassador. Demeaning, disrespectful. Sunday talked to Aventurine like he would talk to a disgusting amalgamation of cells, and it made Veritas want to tear the wings off Sunday's head.

The irony-- a symbol of good on an evil control freak.

His chest weighed heavier with every moment that passed, with every obviously badly-crafted bluff Aventurine grits out. Veritas wished he could reach out and take Aventurine's shaking hands. Hold them in Veritas' slightly larger ones, shield Aventurine like he always shielded everyone else but himself.

Why, dear gambler? Please, stay. For once, please just stay.

Veritas never thought he could become enamored or interested by anything other than knowledge and spreading it, but he could then start listing the things that made his heart pound and his stomach flip embarrassingly.

Deft fingers toying with a poker chip. Plump lips curling into devious lipcurls. Soft blonde hair. Purple and cyan eyes framed flatteringly by long lashes. Aventurine, basically.

And on my deathbed, all I'll see is you.

Aventurine had told him of his goal-- and that he will have almost zero chances of making it back alive. Veritas had let his demeanor slip, dropping the teacup Aventurine had served him some tea in.

His dearest gambler just smiled sadly. The life may leave my lungs, but my heart will stay with you. Aventurine then slowly leaned forward to press their lips together.

The waves will pull us under. "Please don't beg me to reconsider, Doctor." Aventurine pleaded as Veritas responded to the kiss, hands shaking as they clutched for dear life onto Veritas' shirt. "Because I might actually... I can't, Veritas. Please."

Don't try to fight the storm, you'll tumble overboard. Veritas didn't respond, though maybe he should have. Maybe he should have gotten down on his knees, begged for Aventurine to just... run. Run with him. Fuck the IPC, they'll figure it out.

But the mission held something more personal for Aventurine, hence why he went all-in. This was more than just Veritas' feelings for Aventurine. He had no right to fight for Aventurine in this story.

Looking back, maybe Aventurine wanted Veritas to fight. Ratio, you wretch. Maybe Aventurine wanted him to try, to hold onto his hand and drag him away from the gamble for his life. Maybe.

And as Veritas handed him his Doctor's Note, he noted Aventurine's hands shaked even more than usual. The light on his colorful irises dimmed.

Do stay alive. Please stay alive.

He didn't know if Aventurine read or will ever get to read the note. All Veritas could do was hide his hurt and watch Aventurine's figure slowly become smaller.

And as he watched the light on the aventurine stone in the IPC go out, Veritas had to hold on the table in front of him. Gripped it too tightly that it dented. His eyes felt hot and his vision blurred. He wanted to turn his head and be greeted by a smug smile, a green jacket and the smell of expensive perfume and whiskey.

That little kiss you stole, it hurt my heart and soul-- and like a deer in the headlights, I meet my fate.

Aventurine ventured into the Nihility, and he took Veritas' heart with him.

Veritas didn't know if it was possible for a person to live while missing half of their heart and soul, but he will try. Tides will bring me back to you. One way or the other, he will meet Aventurine again.

In life or in Nihility, it will depend on his dearest gambler's luck.

[moosekateer13]

I Can Fix (No I Really I Can't)

For @spnfanficpond Valentine's challenge.

Prompt: The character gets jealous and tries to sabotage the reader’s date.

Jared Padalecki x Reader, OC!Spencer Morgan x Reader

Sequel to Tolerate It

AN: It takes place 40 years after the events of Tolerate it. The reader in this story is her stepdaughter.

Warnings: Controlling Significant other, Mention of Isolation Angst, Mention of Divorce, Mention of Death, Mention of Cancer, Fluff

Summary: Y/N is a golden girl and a world-renowned doctor. She has done nothing that landed her in jail. Y/N always wanted to find someone to settle down with. She finds that with Spencer Morgan, CEO of Pinnacle Brews.  

There is one person hell-bent on stopping them from getting to the altar, Jared Padalecki. He's a world-renowned model and grew up with Y/N. They haven't spoken in years. Jared never takes relationships seriously. He goes through them like he's changing socks. Once he sets his eyes on something he won't stop until he gets it. Jared's target this time is Y/N. A dangerous cocktail of opposite spectrums of relationships. Will he get what he wants or will she tell him to go to hell?

Inspired by Taylor Swift's I Can Fix Him (no really I can)

The dopamine races through his brain On a six-lane Texas highway.

His hand, so calloused from his pistol. Softly traces hearts on my face. And I could see it from a mile away.

A perfect case for my certain skill set He had a halo of the highest grade And hadn't met me yet.

Dallas, Texas

Five-story grey brick house with ornate windows.

I gaze into the mirror, admiring how the knee-length silk green dress fits me perfectly. My boyfriend of three years, Spencer, is taking me to the grand opening of Citron Charm Ristorante. I can sense it deep within me—tonight is the night he’s going to propose.

“Y/N, we need to head out. Are you all set?” Spencer inquired.  

“I’m all set,” I answered as I made my way down the stairs.

I take in the sight before me, and my heart skips a beat. He looks good in that green suit, his signature colour.

His grey hair was neatly tied back, and his amber eyes were full of love.

“You look amazing, Y/N,” Spencer said.  

I could feel my cheeks getting warm.  

“Thanks! And you look really dashing in that suit,” I replied.  

Once I slipped on my shoes, he led me to his car and opened the door for me.

Citron turned out to be different from what I had envisioned. It has a humble, rustic charm and a warm, inviting atmosphere, with clay bricks and wooden beams. Yet, it remains beautiful in its own way. 

We approach the front, where the owner is waiting for us.

“Ah, Mr. and Mrs. Morgan! It’s wonderful to have you here on our opening night. Your table is just this way,” Alfred said. 

We follow him to a table positioned right in front of the stained glass windows.

It's a beautiful view.

Spencer had everything ready in advance. The server presented our meal: pan-seared duck with pepper and mango, served alongside pressure-cooked onions and creamy potato wedges. Over the past few months, I've developed a liking for duck, and Spencer has taken note of that. I truly enjoyed every bite.

“This is amazing. Thank you for bringing me here.” I said.

“You're welcome, my flower,” Spencer replied.

Out of nowhere, the valet comes by.

"Excuse me, sir, but a tow truck is attempting to take your car. They claim it's stolen property." 

"Y/N, please hold on for a moment. I need to handle this," Spencer said before rushing away from the table. 

I wanted to warn him that it was likely a prank since I recognized the valet's voice, but he wasn't one to take chances. So I doubt he would have listened to me.

“Jared, that silly fake French accent might’ve tricked Spencer, but it didn’t fool me. What are you doing here?” I asked. I didn’t even bother asking how he got those valet clothes; he’s always good at sneaking into places. His hazel eyes locked onto mine, and the look on his face was that of a man with a purpose.

“Rescuing you from a mundane life with a dull partner. You flourish in thrilling situations and have a taste for adventure. You act on impulse and in the heat of the moment, relying on instinct rather than just knowledge, which is what makes you an exceptional trauma surgeon. However, once you tie the knot, he may confine you to a gilded cage, stifling your spirit..” Jared retorted.

I stand up to get my point across.

"You think you get me, but you really don’t, Jared. We haven’t talked in ages. What gives you the right to judge my relationships? You go through them like you’re changing shoes. Just stop sending those wildflower bouquets to my hospital room and let me be," I said. 

But Jared didn’t listen and dragged me into the coatroom.

In an unexpected moment, he cups my face and presses a passionate kiss against my lips. I find myself yielding to his touch and kissing him back. But as the reality of the situation hits me, I push him away and dash out of the coatroom, quickly heading back to my table.

Spencer has returned. A piece of grapefruit and blueberry cheesecake sits before me, adorned with a glimmering topping. I swiftly take my seat. He retrieves a stunning platinum 10-carat diamond ring by Neil Lane from the dessert. Then, Spencer kneels.

“It’s no secret why I brought you here. After three wonderful years together, I want to spend a lifetime with you. I love you, Y/N. Will you marry me?” Spencer asked.

At that moment, Jared’s earlier words struck me like a bolt of lightning. He was right; I wouldn’t want to feel trapped. Spencer is from a well-known and large family. As the eldest of six siblings, he is expected to eventually take over his father's business, Morgan Productions.

Connie Damgaard, his mother, attempted to maintain friendships and stay connected with her parents, but after marrying Jeffery, he restricted her social interactions. He only allowed her to go out for specific events. Spencer revealed she had a separate phone to communicate with her friends and family—one that his father was unaware of. He witnessed her using it frequently but chose not to inform his father.

His father is a terrible person who mistreats women. Once the youngest of the six children reached adulthood, he divorced her and forced her out of their home. Although he remains very close to his mother, that doesn’t alter the reality of the situation. I didn’t recognize the signs that he was gradually turning into his father. The first sign was when he hesitated to let me attend my friend Nadine’s birthday celebration. Now, I’ve come to a clear decision.

"Sorry, but no, I don't. If you'll excuse me, I need to leave.” I said. Then I stood up, leaving Spencer just sitting there, totally frozen. I headed to the coat room to grab my coat. 

When I stepped outside, I was surprised to see Jared waiting for me. He said nothing, just opened the passenger door of his Firebird. I hopped in without thinking twice.

6 months later…

Austin Texas

Three-story house featuring small square windows, constructed from white cedar wood and granite.

“That last slice of double pepperoni pizza is all mine,” I declared as I hopped onto my boyfriend's back.  

“I’ll let you have it, but only if you promise me something in return, Artsy,” Jared said with a playful grin.  

“Deal,” I agreed.  

I quickly devoured the slice and then pulled Jared toward our room for his reward.  

I lead him toward our king-sized bed. Jared playfully teases me as he slowly peels away my clothes, starting with my red silk nightgown, which falls to the floor. 

“Mmm, Jared, stop teasing me. I want the main course,” I say, my voice laced with desire. 

Once I’m undressed, he continues to tease, his fingers exploring me, but then he shifts gears and gives me exactly what I crave. His cock fills me completely, and I lose track of everything else, consumed by the moment. 

“Y/N, that’s it—let go for me,” Jared urges. 

We share another passionate kiss, and a muffled scream of his name escapes my lips as I reach my climax. 

“Now that’s a masterpiece, seeing you like this,” Jared says with a smirk against my mouth. 

We don’t stop until we’ve thoroughly marked each other. Just as we settle into a moment of bliss, my phone buzzes, interrupting our peace.

“I have to run, Jared; they need me at the hospital,” I said, hurrying toward the bathroom. A quick shower is definitely in order.  

“Go out there and save the world; I’ll be right here when you return. ” Jared replied.

I slip into my scrubs and put on my doctor's coat, then lean in for a quick kiss on his lips before heading out.

I need to make the most of my time at work since I'll be on leave in three months. Today, I’ll probably be walking a bit awkwardly. Jared is truly insatiable in the bedroom, but I wouldn’t trade that for anything. He’s loyal, loves me, takes care of me, and respects my independence. That’s all I could ever wish for.  

The way he treats me only reinforces what he told me months ago. The rumours about him flitting from one relationship to another like changing shoes were false. Before we officially became a couple, he opened up about his past. The only serious relationship he had was with his high school sweetheart, Teresa Syzdek, who sadly lost her battle with cancer during their first year of college.

I remember them together in high school. They were amazing together. It's a shame they didn’t get a longer time together.

Our love story is a testament to the existence of second chances in love. I feel incredibly fortunate to have him in my life, and I'm eager to treasure every moment we spend together.

Snow on the Beach

[hellowhisperingstars]

Bat Boy

Summary: Eddie asks you an important question.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x VampireGF!Reader

Words: 5K

Warnings: vampires, blood, Eddie gets turned, sad reader backstory, not proofread. I think that's it. Please let me know if I messed anything!

A/N: Happy Halloween everyone!! Here is a sequel to Batty from last year! I did some google searching for some words in different languages that might not be accurate. Please let me know if they are wrong and I will fix them!

Tata = Father (Romanian)

Suflețel = My dear/darling (Romanian)

Anya = Mother (Hungarian)

Ma Cherie = My darling (French)

Likes, comments, and reblogs are always greatly appreciated! <3

Batty - Masterlist

“Hey Batty?” Eddie muttered as he cuddled up to you on the couch in his trailer. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course, baby.” You said putting down the book you had been reading. “What's on your mind my love. You look conflicted.”

“I’ve been thinking,” He said as he pulled your legs up over his lap so he could play with the frayed ends of the hole that sat on the knee of your jeans. 

“Uh oh,” You whispered as you watched him. “Got your serious face on.”

Eddie bit his lip, struggling to say what he wanted. He didn’t want to put you on the spot like this but he knew that you would rather he just come out and say it rather than dance around the subject. “Batty, remember when you fed off me and I asked if it would turn me?”

“Yes,” You nodded, your eyes narrowing as you looked at him, was he going to ask what you thought he was going to ask?

“You told me that it would take more than a bite and it would be a different conversation.”

Nodding again you gave a little “mhm” as confirmation. 

“I want to talk about it.” He said swallowing to try and clear his dry throat.

“Okay,” You nodded, sitting up a little. “What did you want to know?”

“How do you change someone?”

“It’s kind of like how they portrayed it in movies.” You shrugged. You had been a vampire for so long that it’s hard to remember a lot of the details of your change other than how it felt. “They drink your blood to the point of death and then they feed you theirs. That’s the traditional way at least. I heard recently that some doctor in Japan was able to do it through a blood transfusion.” 

“Does it hurt?” He asked quietly as he pulled at a string.

No reason to hide the truth from him. Nodding, you took a deep breath, licking your lips before you started. “You're dying, love, your heart stops, you can't breathe. After a few minutes it feels like there’s fire in your veins. It feels like it takes forever for your heart to start again and for your lungs to start working properly. It’s awful, honestly. I wouldn’t let anyone I care about do it unless they are absolutely sure this is what they wanted.“

“How long does the pain last?”

“It’s different for everyone.” You shrugged looking away from him. “A few minutes to a couple hours.”

“How long did your change take?” 

“Hours. I was in pretty bad shape to begin with so it had a lot of things to mend.” Looking out the front window you noticed the sun was starting to set. Getting up you looked down at him and held out your hand. “Walk with me?”

Looking up at you he nodded his head as he grabbed your hand letting you lift him to his feet as you walked towards the door.

The first colors of fall were just starting to sprout on the trees turning the leaves from green to yellow, orange, and red, a crispy breeze greeted you as the door of the trailer opened and together you and Eddie walked down the steps to the gravel walkway heading towards the forest that surrounded the park. 

“You're more curious than normal,” You said as you jumped into a downed log, walking it like a tightrope you looked over at him. “What else are you curious about, my love?”

Eddie plucked a branch from the ground taking his time to rip the dead leaves away as he got up the courage to ask you about something he knew might bother you. “How did you die?” 

That stopped you as you looked at him. “You really want to know?” 

“I want to know more about you..” He said, his eyes squinting against the setting sun.

You bit your lip as you tried to think back to your old life. Giving him a little giggle you “Gonna make me show my age.”

“You’re beautiful no matter how old you are.” He said with a smile as he squinted from the setting sun behind you. 

“Charmer.” You laughed. Taking a seat on the down long log you played with one of its delicate branches. “I was born in 1905 in St. Louis. My parents weren't rich but we did alright. Papa owned this shitty little diner on the bad side of town, got a lot of drunks and thugs that came to the place but it paid the bills. We lived in the apartment above it. Mama worked in a factory making men's shirts and I actually got to go to school for a while. But when I hit twelve I dropped out to help Papa with the diner. Life was good, you know? He loved that diner. Sold liquor and everything, a lot of the people that came kinda became extended family. 

Then the prohibition happened when I was fifteen and suddenly the diner wasn't doing well. Mama had to get a second job and I tried to help the best I could by taking odd jobs around town. Babysitting, errand running, anything to help keep the diner open and a roof over our heads but Papa was too proud to accept help from me or Mama so he did what he had to. One of our best customers was this gangster.. His name was Squeaky Pete. Had this really annoying high pitched voice. His vocal chords got damaged in a fight or so I was told. Anyway, he came to Papa with a proposal: he would use the back room and basement as a speakeasy and he would pay for the upkeep of the diner. Papa didn't even think he just said yes. They opened the place a few months later. Called it the Primrose. After Squeaky's mother apparently. 

For the next few years things were okay. I grew up surrounded by gangsters. Mama hated that. Always told me to be cautious, never look them in the eye, watch my mouth or better yet don’t even talk to them, avoid them at all costs, and by the time I was old enough to really understand what was happening Papa made me promise to never go into the Primrose. I broke that promise when I turned twenty one. I was just so damn tired of being careful. 

So I got into my prettiest dress, did my make up, hair, the whole nine yards and when my parents went to sleep I went down. Victor recognized me and tried to say no but Squeaky showed up and told him to let me in that I was old enough.  

I spent all night down there. One night turned to two and two to three before I knew it. I was a frequent customer and my parents never caught on as far as I knew anyway. I got close to Squeaky, real close.” 

“You dated a mobster?” Eddie said, stepping forward with his hands going to your hips. “No shit?”

You shrugged with a nod. “Yeah. He was a good guy if you looked past all the illegal shit he did.” 

“Jesus that's metal as fuck babe.”

Laughing, you wrapped your arms around Eddie's neck getting somber as you thought back to the rest of the story. “This is where it gets worse. Are you ready for it?”

With his nod you continued. “It was a few months later right before Christmas when the Primrose was raided. Cops everywhere. Just complete chaos, screaming, crying, guns going off. I remember being scared and Squeaky tried to get me to safety but I was shot.” 

Moving the top of your shirt to the side you pointed to a small area by your breast close to your heart and then lifted up the hem of your shirt to show a spot by your stomach and pelvis. “Right there, there, and there. Squeaky didn't have a choice; he had to leave me to save himself. I don't blame him. I don't remember much after that. But I do remember waking up in a cold room just covered by a sheet and I was scared because I was having a hard time staying awake. Tata was there. He was the coroner for the city at the time. He noticed me moving and he knew that I wouldn't last much longer and he told me what happened and offered to change me to save my life and I said yes. I wasn't ready to die. So he wrapped me up the best he could, snuck me out to his car and took me home, he got me set up in his room and gave me his blood. I had lost so much from my wounds that he didn’t need to bite me. I remember that for the first few minutes it felt like nothing was happening, then suddenly I felt like I was on fire, burning from the inside out. My heart stopped and I couldn’t breathe. I thought I was dying in the worst way possible. For hours I was stuck in his painful limbo, not dead but not really alive either. Then my heart started up again and I could breathe and I felt my body start to push the bullets out and heal over the wounds. By the next night I was okay. Tata never left my side, fed me blood from his ice box and made sure I was okay. I never got to go back home though. Papa and Mama thought I was dead so they closed the diner after the raid and moved away. Tata said I could stay with him and we moved away not long after. I was assumed dead so we couldn’t stay in St. Louis anymore.”  

“Do you miss them?” Eddie asked, pushing your hair from your forehead. “Your parents?”

“Everyday.” You nodded with your eyes closed. “They died a long time ago. I found them once in the forties and took some time to go see where they lived. But Mama had passed already and Papa was alone by then. I didn’t want to upset him so I stayed away. When he died they held an estate sale. I bought some of their things. I still have them in my room.”

“That double hinged picture frame you have on your dresser. It’s got a photo of an older couple in it. That your parents?”

“Mhm.” You nodded again looking up with him. “Eddie, answer me honestly. Did you ask because you want to be turned?”

Eddie looked you dead in your eyes and nodded. “Yeah. I wanna be with you forever. I don’t wanna grow old while you stay young and beautiful. You’re it for me baby. I love you.”

“I love you too. You know you won’t be able to see Wayne for a very long time. It'll be too dangerous." 

“I know.” He nodded. “I’ll do whatever it takes to stay by your side.”

Biting your lip, you took in a deep breath. “I’ll talk to Tata and Anya. Tata is the head of the family so it’s his decision.”

Nodding Eddie leaned down to kiss you. He would wait for as long as it takes

That night you sat in the large library that was supposed to be the dining room of your humble home. Florin Crudo, or Tata as you call him, had the home built in the woods just off Cornwallis by Lake Jordan in the early 70s and after it was completed he had moved your little undead family in. He had decided after moving in that since you didn't eat food that the dining room would make a lovely library to hold all the books that he had collected over his lifetime. 

So here you sat reading a first edition of Frankenstein when you looked up at your adopted parents. Erzsébet Crudo, your Anya, was sitting on the loveseat cuddled up with Florin, with a book in their hands while your adopted brother Sébastien and his wife Madeleine sat by the window playing chess and flirting from the looks of it. 

“You look troubled, Suflețel.” Florin said, looking over his book at you. “Something you would like to talk about?”

That got the attention of the members of your family who all stopped what they were doing to look at you.

“Eddie and I talked today. He asked questions about what being turned was like.” You told him as you closed your book on your finger to hold your page. 

“And what did you tell him?” Sébastien asked as he turned in his chair. It wasn’t lost on anyone in the room that your brother and his wife had no love loss for Eddie. They found him annoying for the lack of a better term. Madeleine once said that he was too loud and showy for her.

“I told him the truth.” You snarked back, rolling your eyes a little. “I have no reason to lie to him. He wants to be turned.”

Your parents looked at one another before they sat up, closing their own books as well. 

“Is that what you want?” Anya said as she set her book on the table. 

“I love him.” You nodded, sitting up more to look at them. “He wants to be with me forever and I want to be with him forever.”

“I don’t think it's a good idea.” Sébastien said standing up to move over to the sofas you were sitting at. 

“Why not?” You snapped, “He makes me happy. As my brother you should want that for me.”

“He just doesn’t seem like he would be reliable enough to keep our secret.” He said looking over at your parents. 

“He’s kept mine for a while now. Why would it suddenly change when he’s one of us?”

“I just don’t think -”

“You changed Madeleine cause you loved her even though she was dying of syphilis in some french whorehouse!” You argued back completely standing up to face your much taller brother. Madeleine stood up quickly making the chair she sat on scrap against the wooden floor as she stomped from the room.

"Y/N!" Your Anya yelled shocked at tour behavior. 

“Ma cherie! Wait!" Sébastien yelled to her before he turned back to you, leaning down a little to get closer. “This isn’t about her!”

“Enough!” Florin yelled as he stood from the love seat holding his hands up to quiet the both of you. “Sébastien leave your sister alone. Eddie is a nice boy who has proven that he could keep our lives secret. Y/N apologize to your brother and sister-in-law, throwing Madeleine's past in their faces wasn’t necessary.”

You muttered a quiet apology to your brother before he ran out to find Madeleine. You’ll have to apologize to her later. Looking up at Florin you take a seat again. “I don’t want to lose Eddie.”

Sighing, Florin stepped towards you putting his hand on your head. "I'll have to talk to Hopper. Then he and I will talk to Eddie together. I don't want to bring us any trouble by going behind Hopper's back." 

Nodding you stood up and hugged Florin. "Thank you Tata."

He hugged you back before he pushed you gently towards the door. "Go apologize to Madeleine."

"Yes, Tata." You nodded again before you turned to leave the room. 

Erzsébet sighed as she leaned back against the love seat. A little giggle in her voice. “She's horribly modern isn't she?” 

“She always has been.” Florin laughed and walked over to her. “She has a much easier time changing with the decades.” 

“What are we going to do about Eddie?” 

“I'll talk to Hopper and the boy. Make sure he understands what he's asking.” Florin said as he sat down next to his wife. “Everything will work out how it’s supposed to.”

“I’m sorry. He wants to do what?” Hopper said as he blinked at Florin and then turned to Eddie who was sitting on one of the sofas in the Crudo library, Hopper hands sat on his hips as he tried to understand what was said to him. 

Florin sighed as he looked over at Eddie. It has been a few days since that night you brought up Eddie wanting to turn and he had called Hopper a day later to ask him to stop by. He had also asked you to bring Eddie by so the three of them could discuss this situation they found themselves in. “Eddie has expressed interest in turning. I asked you here as a courtesy, my family has a good standing with you and I didn’t want to do anything behind your back. We know the rules.”

Wiping his hand down his face the Chief looked over to Eddie. “I’ve known you for a long time, kid, and in all these years you have done some stupid shit but I think this takes the cake. I mean are you even aware of what you’re asking? What you’re leaving behind?”

“Of course I am.” Eddie replied, sitting up straight. “Besides, Wayne just moved from night shift to day shift, so I’ll still be able to see him, and the sun doesn’t hurt them so I know that after the change I can still live my life like I normally do.”

“It’ll take a while for your body to properly resist the sun.” Florin said, his hand moving to Eddie's shoulder. “But with time and proper feeding you’ll be fine.”

“Now hold on,” Hopper said, holding his hands up. “I still haven't said yes.”

“Why do you even get a say?” Eddie challenged as he stood up from the couch his eyes glaring into Hoppers. “This is my life. This is what I want. I love her Hopper. I wanna be with her for as long as she’ll have me whether that's sixty years or six hundred. Just know that if you say no I’ll just go find someone who will say yes.”

“Now, now,” Florin said, stepping between the two men. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Jim…”

Hopper stared sternly at Eddie before he let out a huge sigh, his hands going back to his hips. “Same rules apply. No feeding in town, you get hungry, you leave Hawkins. Not even the wild animals are fair game, I don’t need any hunters finding deer carcasses, and be aware that no matter how much I like you kid, if you lose it and go into a frenzy I will take you out. Am I clear?” 

“Yeah,” Eddie nodded his head as a smile started to spread on his lips. “I get it, Hopper.”

“Florin. You’re in charge of him.” Jim said shortly and turned, moving towards the door. He had to get back to the station. “Don’t make me regret this Munson.”

“I won’t.” 

“I’ll watch over him just like I do the rest of my family.” Florin said with a nod and together the two of them watched as Hopper left the room. With the door open the two men could see you pacing the hallway outside a worried look on your face as Hopper left out the front door.  “Suflețel, come in here please.”

Your head snapped towards them and you quickly made your way into the room. “What did he say?”

Erzsébet, Sébastien, and Madeleine followed you in two of the three looking incredibly uninterested in the current moment. “Everyone, it looks like we’ll be getting a new member to our little family. I expect all of you to be kind and help him as he transitions.” He looked at your brother and sister-in-law with a serious gaze. “I know how you feel but he is your sisters chosen and we should support them as we did you two.”

Happiness bubbled over in your chest and you let out a cheer as you rushed to Eddie jumping into his arms, your legs going around his waist as he held you to him, his hands going under your thighs to support you. “Are you absolutely sure this is what you want?”

“Absolutely.” Eddie nodded his head as he smiled at you. “I have never wanted anything so badly in my entire life.”

“I love you.” You muttered, leaning your forehead against his. 

“I love you too.” He sighed, completely content now knowing that he didn’t have to fight Hopper.

“Edward,” Florin said with a small smile on his face when he looked over at the two of you before he turned more serious. “I need you to understand that the change won't be easy. It’ll hurt and you’ll feel every second of it. If this is really what you want you need to get your things in order. Pack a few bags, you'll be staying here with us until you can control yourself after the change, and you’ll need to tell your Uncle something.”

Eddie nodded his head as he looked at your adopted dad over your shoulder. “I’ve already been telling him that Y/N and I are thinking of getting out of town for a while. Just road tripping across the country, so he’ll expect us to be gone for a while.”

“That was very smart of your Eddie.” Erzsébet said as she moved over to the two of you, her hand going to his shoulder. “I look forward to having you in our family.”

“Thank you,” Eddie smiled. He felt you unwrap your legs and set you on the ground, his hands moving up to your back. Looking down at you his smile widened. “So when do we do this?”

“Give us a few days.” Florin said as he looked over at Sébastien. “Will you be able to get us a good supply of blood and equipment from the hospital?”

Sighing, in mild annoyance Sébastien nodded his head. “I’ll talk to Marcus, see what I can do.”

“Excellent.” Florin nodded his head as he turned to Eddie, making a face at him and in a playful voice he muttered. “Say goodbye to the light Edward.”

Giving out a laugh Eddie nodded his head, his hand rubbing your back as he looked at you. He couldn’t wait to be with you forever.

Time passed and the fateful day was upon you as you pulled your car up to the Munson trailer. Taking a deep breath you stepped from your car and headed up to the steps of your boyfriend's house before you ascended them and knocked on the door. It was a Saturday so Wayne was home to answer the door. He smiled at you when he saw you.

“Hey sweetie, Eddie’s finishing up packing. Come on in.” Wayne greeted letting you into the house. 

“Hi Wayne!” You smiled back at him as you entered, your eyes being drawn to the two bags full of Eddie’s clothes.. “How’s the day shift treating you?”

“It’s taking a bit to adjust but I’m getting used to it.” Eddie’s Uncle smiled as he sat on the arm of his recliner. “Where are you two crazy kids headed to first?”

“I think we wanted to head up to Michigan first.” You smiled, as Eddie came back out his last bag in his hands. 

“Hey Batty.” He smiled, dropping the duffle by your feet and he leaned in to kiss you. “Ready to go?”

“Ready when you are.” You nodded gazing up at him with your own bright smile. You could see a bit of nervousness in his eyes, you didn’t blame him, it’s a scary path he’s about to head down. 

He nodded before he looked over at Wayne and gave him a little smile as he walked over. “You take care of yourself, old man. I’ll be back in a few months.”

“Have fun and be safe.” His Uncle said as he pulled him in for a hug. “You call me if you have any problems. You hear me?”

“Yeah I hear you.” Eddie said, slapping his hand on his uncle's back before he pulled away. “Love you Wayne.”

“Love you too Son. Now get goin’.” He said, gesturing you both towards the door. “Gotta hit the highway before it gets too late.”

Leaning down you grabbed one of Eddie’s duffles smiling at the two men as you held your hand out for Eddie. “Time to go love.”

Nodding Eddie grabbed the two other duffles and held one in his hand while he threw the other on his shoulder. Taking your hand with his free one he led you through the trailer door and down the steps to your car. Packing his bags into your trunk you gave one final wave to Wayne as you got into the driver seat and started your car towards home. 

“Nervous?” You asked as you looked over at him watching as he looked out of the passenger window.

“I would be lying if I said no.” Eddie chuckled a little, you could hear the nerves in his voice. 

“You don’t have to do this, you know? We could literally just go on this road trip.” You wanted to give him this out in case he was having second thoughts. You wanted him to know you wouldn’t love him any less if he decided he didn’t want this anymore. 

“No, I want this.” Eddie said, turning to look at you. 

You nodded your head as you turned onto Cornwallis, past the Harrington house, past the Byers house, and turned down the path to your home. Pulling your car into the driveway you were greeted by Florin and Erzsébet who were standing on the porch waiting for you. You and Eddie looked at one another before you exited the car moving around to the trunk to grab Eddie's bags. Together hand in hand again you walked towards the house.

“Are you ready for this?” Florin asked seriously as he watched the two of you join them at the porch.

“Absolutely.” Eddie nodded, squeezing your hand in his own before the door of you walked into the house. 

Florin closed the door behind you all as you harder to your room to set Eddie’s bags down. “We'll wait until dark. That way you won't have to worry about the sun for a few hours. Until then do you have any questions?”

For the next few hours the four of you sat in the library chatting, answering any and all of Eddie's questions. Your brother and sister-in-law joined you at one point. And when the time came the six of you traveled into the guest room. You wanted him to be as comfortable as possible but you knew it would be the exact opposite. Moving around the room you got him settled sitting on the bed and put his long curls up into a bun as Tata and Sébastien moved medical equipment round the room. 

“It's time.” Florin said quietly as he rolled up the sleeves of his black button down. “Last chance to change your mind.” 

Eddie shook his head looking at Florin and then back to you as he held your hand. “Let's do this.” 

“Alright. Sébastien the heart monitor please.” Florin directed and watched while Eddie took his shirt off to allow your brother to hook him up. Soon the sound of his heart beat filled the room and you noticed it was a little fast but he was nervous. 

Moving off to the side you never let go of Eddie's hand as Florin moved towards him. His cool hand coming up to check both sides of his neck for a good spot giving you a sideways look when he found the year old bite scars from when you fed off Eddie in his room. 

You looked down at Eddie's hand acting like nothing was wrong. 

“That was my fault.” Eddie said quietly. “She needed to feed and I got nervous that she was going too long between feedings. She fought me on it but I convinced her. She didn't take much and took care of me after.” 

Nodding his head in understanding, Florin dropped it and found the spot he was looking for. Closing his eyes he felt his fangs elongate and in a flash he sank his teeth into Eddie’s neck. 

The boy in question closed his eyes tightly, face screwed up in pain, his heart rate sped up as the monitor went nuts, the beeping so loud it was driving you crazy as he squeezed your hand. He didn't hear you as you whispered sweet things to him, all he could focus on was the feeling of cold over taking his body and the dizziness that started to spin the darkness behind his eyes. He felt weak. Florin's fangs were much bigger than your own and he could feel his blood leaving his body. It was different but the same as when you fed on him but this time there was no safeword.

You looked at the heart monitor as the beeping slowed. He was close. Your Anya stepped forward, her hand coming up to touch Florin on his back to let him know and your father figure drew back keeping his hands on Eddie to keep him steady as he licked the blood from his lips. “Lay him down.” 

You moved into action getting Eddie into a comfortable position and went to sit by his side as Florin moved to the other side of the bed biting his own wrist as he went before holding it up to Eddie lips. 

“You have to drink.” He instructed lightly watching as Eddie shakily looked at you and when you nodded you helped him latch on to the offered wrist rubbing his back as he started to drink. 

“That's it baby.” You muttered. You hoped praising him would help. “You can do it.” 

Your Tata let him drink his fill until Eddie himself wrenched away, his body seizing, his breathing coming in short quick pants, as the change started. It was coming on quick but since Eddie was a strong healthy young man it didn't surprise any of you. There was nothing for the change to heal. You heard the monitor give out a long continuous beep as his heart stopped and he struggled to breath. You held him as close as you could trying to give him any comfort. When he stopped breathing you looked up to Florin, panic clear on your features, as Erzsébet came to you, setting her hand on your shoulder.

“This is normal.” He said with a nod as he watched. This change would only take a few minutes he could tell by how quickly Eddie was reacting and as a vampire who had sired all four of his family members he could tell when it would take longer. Your change has been the longest since you had been shot three times, the damage inside of you had been substantial. Eddie’s quick change was easy compared to your but still, painful nonetheless

Eddie had never been in so much pain in his entire life. He couldn't think, couldn't breathe, all he felt was pain. Every inch of his body felt like it was overheating. His lungs felt like they were being crushed by his rib cage. You had explained exactly how it felt, he knew it would feel like this but he wasn't ready. At first it was cold, numb, like he wanted to sleep but once the metallic taste of Florin's blood touched his tongue he couldn't get enough. Then the pain started and it kept rolling through him in long sharp waves. Minutes felt like they went on for hours and suddenly, everything stopped. He felt weightless and his eyes snapped open as he took in a huge lung full of air. He looked around wildly, everything was too bright, too vivid, and then you suddenly came into his line of sight. Your lips were moving but he couldn't make it what you were saying. The sound of his heart slowly beating was so loud until it faded away. Then all he heard was you. 

“Love?” You asked as he stared wide eyed at you. “Can you hear me?” 

“Yeah. Yeah I hear you.” He mumbled as he focused on you, he could hear your heart beating slowly but it was so loud. And he felt hungry. Hungrier than he's ever been. He could smell blood but couldn't see it. “I'm starving.” 

“Here, drink this.” Sébastien said, passing you a few blood bags. 

Carefully you take them from him and help Eddie into a better position so he can drink. Tapping his lips with the bag you smiled at him. “Open up baby.”

The sight of blood made Eddie's fangs pop out which made him gasp as he opened his mouth, his tongue poking at the tips. “Shit.”

You laughed as you held the bag up watching him drop his tongue and he looked up at you with a small pout before you slapped the bag against the points of his fangs letting them pierce the bag so he could feed. 

Once that bag was drained he looked back up at you again after he took the bag from his mouth. His excitement to see the world as you do overpowering him. “Can we go outside?”

“In a bit okay?” You mumbled as you leaned your forehead against his. “I just want you to rest for a little longer. Besides, we have until the end of the world to explore.”