#and the nurses refuse to let me lift a finger i asked if they want me to help and they stare wide eyed and say ofc not

[kirishwima]

the differences between my old work and my current one are. so jarring

[eddiernunson]

Really Drives Me Mad | EX-bfs dad!Eddie Munson x Reader | 18+

Previous Part | Master List | Next Part

Word Count: 12.8k

Big big thank you to @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you for editing for me I appreciate it, bestie

Another big thank you to @bebe07011 for spitting ideas and giving feedback.

Warnings: Degradation/praise, eating out, public sex, daddy kink, and several scenes where smut is mentioned but not described. There is about 1k of words just from Dylan's perspective but its worth it trust me.

Eddie is a bit of a sugar daddy in this part, but its ok cause we all want him to spoil us anyway.

Author's note: Some of y'all are gonna make me cry with how kind you are with your words for this fic. I cannot believe how much this story has truly taken over my life. People have expressed sharing it with friends and I just cannot get over that. Thank you.

-

Your hands held a home-made cocktail on ice while The Princess Diaries played on the tv, a soft blanket covered your crossed legs as you sat with both Sky and Bethany in your living room, scattered along your couch.

Bethany often snuck a joint or two while she visited, the window staying open to minimize a smell with a 20-dollar fan in front of it to promote air circulation. It was nice to have a girls’ night, to order bags of chips and candy over SkiptheDishes, wear face masks, do your makeup for the hell of it, and just let loose.

Bethany made her way over about a movie and a half ago, and she was now explaining a stupid mishap from her office administrative position that quite literally pulled the company to a halt for 45 minutes. “I swear, you could not pay me enough to put up with those drivers.” She claims, taking an inhale from the joint in her two painted fingers.

Sky makes a sudden movement in her seat, reaching to the remote next to her to pause the movie. “Holy shit. Did I tell you I saw Eddie?” Her question is directed across you to Bethany, and you’re left wondering why the hell your boyfriend is the new topic of discussion.

“Wait, what?” Bethany asks, wide green eyes moving back and forth between you and Sky. “When and where?”

“Our date?” You interject her, a little weirded out by the turn this conversation has taken. “When Eddie picked me up, she was here.”

“Oh, I see.” She hums to herself. “Well, since she won’t show us a photo, please tell me what the man who’s old enough to be her father looks like.”

You roll your eyes at this, a cheeky thought occurring to you. “Well Dylan might be great; but he is a sequel. Ain’t nothing compared to the original.”

Sky nods, agreeing. “Eddie is… very good looking.” You shoot her a warning look, for some reason, her just alluding to his good looks makes you feel territorial. “Show her a picture if you don’t want to hear it, damn! Just telling the truth…”

“It’s not that I won’t show you guys,” you explain, unlocking your phone. “It’s that he doesn’t use social media, so he has no good photos of himself.” On the internet, at least.

“What, no throw back photos from Dylan’s insta?” Sky asks, mostly joking.

You go to Dylan’s insta, and you can’t view it. Fuck, you forgot. He blocked you. Even though he seems to be on better terms with you, simple reminders like being blocked from his social media or him refusing to tell any details about his life remind you he’s still nursing a healing wound. “Still blocked.” You look up, and their faces tell you they’re not letting up on it. “Fine. I’ll go to Eddie’s Facebook.”

Eddie added you as a friend the day after your date, adorably waiting as you went on your phone to accept it. The moment you did he went onto your profile and dove into your photos. His eyes were comically wide as he scrolled through them, and after the first few swipes he lifted his head to you. “You just put these on here? Fuck.” The photos weren’t even particularly bad, just you in a bikini on the beach or in a summer dress, he’s just that obsessed with you. You asked him if he minded and he shook his head comically, his dimples so prominent from his wide smile, he looked manic. “Oh, I never said to stop, sweetheart.”

Your thumb slides into Eddie’s profile, and while you were afraid of the calls from a judgemental relative about the relationship with him the word single on his relationship status still hits you hard in the chest. You move to his photos, past the useless profile picture that was his company logo of Munson’s Garage and swipe through the regular posts, past Dylan’s graduation from college, from high school, a picture of a nice car, an old one of his ex with Dylan, (barf), until you finally got through to a throwback, one posted in 2011.

It was taken in the 90s, so a picture of a picture of him sitting at an old kitchen table arm in arm with another dude. One of his feet was up on the table, and he was clutching a beer, lifting it to the camera. His friend was talking to someone off camera, distracted for the moment, his slightly freckled face in a scowl. His friend had brown hair down to his neck styled specifically in a swoop, and they seemed about the same age.

His friend was quite attractive, but younger Eddie made you fucking drool. God, he was so gorgeous. He wore a leather jacket under a denim vest, ripped blue jeans over his big black boots. Fuck. You almost didn’t want to share this photo.

You go to the next photo, and a giggle leaves your mouth as you see him posing with a friend, tongues out and devil horns on their heads as smiles peek through. The background is a stage at an Iron Maiden concert, and they both look ecstatic. It’s a different friend in this one with curly hair, but it looked like he had posted from the Iron Maiden concert. A few more scrolls told you that the throwback photo would be the best option.

“Ok.” You finally say, and both girls have been waiting so long at this point they’ve started scrolling on their own phones. “Guys. You wanna see it or not?”

You hand your phone to Bethany, indicating he was the one on the right. The possessiveness that hits you when you see her reaction, her wide eyes and jaw literally dropping, stunted you. “Holy shit. This is him from how long ago?”

“In the late 90s, I guess.” You tell her.

She hands the phone to Sky, who was asking for it repeatedly as soon as Bethany let out her reaction. “Oh, yeah. He was a cutie. Honestly, he’s hotter now.” Your teeth grit, and you take a deep breath in to calm yourself.

“How?” Bethany asks, gesturing to your phone.

“Ok. Enough. He’s very good looking. But he’s fucking taken.” You bark out, holding your hand out for the phone.

They both stop talking, your sudden anger very uncharacteristic of you. Usually when you find someone particularly good looking, you’d show them off, agreeing with your two friends when they would praise their good looks. This wasn’t anything like those times. Hearing their praises just makes you want to sink your teeth into Eddie’s neck and mark your territory the next time you see him.

“Woah, girl.” Sky says, laughing lightly to diffuse the tension. “Never seen that side of you before.”

“Well, I didn’t even know she existed until a waitress looked at Eddie on our date and I wanted to throttle her,” You admit, grabbing the nearly empty cocktail and taking a sip. “I just…I don’t know why I’m so territorial over him, but God, the thought of him with someone else makes me sick to my stomach.”

Bethany holds her hands up in surrender, “Alright, we won’t compliment him anymore. But you did good, girl. You did mighty good.”

-

As per usual, the girls'-day-in resulted in the three of you falling asleep in the living room, blankets and pillows scattered across the three of you. The sun cascading through a window by the couch wakes you up, disgruntled, as you pat around for your phone. The screen greets you harshly, your notifications indicating you have three messages from Eddie, two from a manager at work, and the several random ones, which you clear out, not caring about Instagram stories for the moment. Eddie texted to say he was going into work for a few hours. The next two messages indicated if you were there when he got home, he wouldn’t be against it.

Basically, he just told you to please be there when he got home. Fuck, the feeling of him reaching out first was enough to send a wide smile to your face, staring stupidly at your phone. You message him back, letting him know you’ll be there.

The messages from your manager were one from two hours ago, asking if you’d be able to come in for 10 o’clock– Which was thirty-five minutes ago– and the second asked if you were able to come in at all. You quirk your eyebrow, glad your read receipts are off for her, because you’re planning now to text at 3 o'clock to let her know that, oops, you just saw this. No, you’re not going in on your day off, you’ll be spending it with your ridiculously hot boyfriend.

You leap from your couch, running into your room to pack another overnight bag. You’re out the door before the others even stir.

As you pull into Eddie’s driveway, you notice Dylan’s truck there, but Eddie’s is still gone. You wonder when he’ll be back, because although Dylan is civil towards you, interactions with him are still stunted. You open the front door, grateful Dylan tended to leave it unlocked. You drop your overnight bag and pillow off at the staircase, its usual spot, before you trot off to the living room where Dylan sits watching tv.

As you plop down next to him on the other side of the couch, Dylan looks to you, startled by the movement, but his eyes roll in exasperation when he realizes that it’s you. “Hi.” You sing-song to him, knowing you’re annoying him, but having fun with it anyways.

“Hey.” He deadpans, watching the tv instead of looking over to you.

“Oh, wow you’re almost caught up.” You say, indicating to a show that you had recommended he watched a while back.

“Turned out to be a good show.” He comments, sounding annoyed.

“Well, how about that?” You retort, and Dylan rolls his eyes before a small smile lands on his face.

Progress.

Less than an hour later, the front door closes, indicating Eddie’s homecoming. He walks in, and as you pay attention to a particularly good episode in this series, you hear a big stretch come from him. “Hi, Ed!” You call out, finally turning towards him.

Fuck. Holy shit.

A few grease stains paint Eddie’s hands and chin, and he’s wearing a pair of blue coveralls from work with a patch on his chest of his name. The grease monkey suit shows off his muscles beautifully, both sleeves rolled up to his forearms. His hair is tied back into a messy bun, and you’re sure he forgot about the reading glasses on his head. Oh god, he is mouth watering.

A throw pillow hits your face, completely startling you. You whip your head around, glaring at  the culprit. “Little drool.” Dylan mouths, pointing to his chin.

“Oh, little drool?” You mock, getting up to hit him with the pillow hard. He chuckles, fighting you off.

You push his shoulder off, shuffling into the kitchen. You turn to see Eddie moving around the kitchen, making himself a quick sandwich. “Hi baby!” You greet him, reaching out for him.

“Oh, hi baby.” He says, following up with an air kiss. He breaks into laughter at your scowl. “Sorry, you don’t want this grease on you. It smells terrible and it’s not fun to wash off.”

“But there’s no grease on your lips.” You point out, staring at those pretty pink lips of his.

“Baby, I cannot kiss you without touching you and there is grease all over my hands.” He chuckles, holding them out.

You want to point out that he’s getting things dirty with grease in the kitchen, including his sandwich, by his own logic, but you have a feeling you won’t get away with it very easily. “Fine. Come see me when you’ve had a shower then.” You tell him, attempting to waddle back to the living room.

“Ah, ah.” Eddie tuts, grabbing your hand. “Come with me, after I shower, I need time with you in my bed.”

“In your bed? Or, in your bed?” You ask, your eyebrows furrowing suggestively at the second option.

“If you didn’t know the answer by now, clearly I haven’t done my job right.” He says in a lowly, his eyes darkening in an instant.

Eddie turns around to the sandwich he made as if he hadn’t said a word, grabbing it quickly before tugging on your hand to take you up the stairs.

He hops into the shower, you scroll through your phone on his bed as you wait, somewhat impatiently, your panties already uncomfortable from his stroll into the house in his work uniform.

Fuck, he was hot. You thought about him. His muscles, the slight glisten of sweat, and your phone was tossed aside before you even realized your hands were roaming over your body. You close your eyes, the image of him busy at work on his back on one of those…rolly things in your head. His forearms flexing, the look of concentration on his face.

Your hands itch for your center and you can barely hold back anymore, thankful you opted for a pair of stretchy shorts. Your fingers graze your center easily, rolling around in small circles as you picture the easy access his coveralls would give you, showing up with a dress and no panties and just riding him in his office. Fuck, maybe you wouldn’t even make it there. Goddamn, the images were too hot, your panties finding their way around your ankles as you grind up against your own fingers.

“Fuck.”

Your eyes fling open to see your boyfriend in his towel. You were so wrapped up you didn’t even notice the water from his shower turn off. He’s staring, open mouthed and eyes dark, and Jesus… This was a fantasy of yours from the beginning. You continue, staring half lidded back at him, hand grabbing up at his bed frame when it started to feel so fucking good.

Eddie’s towel drops when his brain catches up, jumping into his bed to lay next to you. “Couldn’t even wait, huh?” He asks, and you let out a whimper as he lightly kisses your neck. “Just couldn’t fucking wait.”

“You were so hot—” you gasp out, moving faster on yourself now. “—in that goddamn uniform. Wanna…wanna ride you in it.”

The very indication that you were playing with yourself because you found him that hot in his uniform is too much for Eddie to process. He nearly moans, leaning for another kiss on your neck. His hands are itching to help you, itching to take off the rest of those clothes that hide your gorgeous body, but he holds back, needing to know more about it. “What—what were you thinkin’ ‘bout, baby?”

“You, in the uniform…” you tell him, your hips starting to move when your want grows. Why isn’t he helping?

“C’mon, baby. I wanna touch you but I just gotta know.” Eddie tells you, his voice gruff.

A gulp moves through your throat before opening your mouth to tell him. “Your dick out of the uniform, and me with no panties and a dress at your shop, riding you anywhere…your office, the rolly thing, god, just you in that uniform…Ed…”

Goddammit, was that an idea Eddie certainly had before. He has wanted to show you around his workplace, but also christen it with you, and he had had the exact idea with his uniform and you in a dress, to boot. “Fuck, my horny, eager little slut, hey?” Eddie asks, watching your closed eyes as you continue to work yourself.

“Please…please touch me?” You ask him, the torture of his voice there but not actually helping you is too much. “Want…want you.”

“Hmm. Horny little slut didn’t wait for me…I dunno if she even deserves my help.” He bluffs, wanting nothing more than to reach out and feel the slick of your wet pussy.

You nearly cry out in protest, not calling him on his bluff. “I’m sorry, couldn’t help myself…you’re just so…fuck…you’re so fucking hot, Ed.”

He leans in to kiss you and you accept it gratefully, a smile against his lips. As his lips move against yours, deepening the kiss to easily work his tongue against yours, his hands land on yours against your pussy delicately, gently pulling your fingers to the side. He slides a digit in and you whimper into his mouth, your hips thrusting up. “Oh, so fucking desperate.” You nod your head, agreeing with him. You’re desperate for more. Even with Eddie on your mind, your fingers never even compared to his.

He leans into your neck, the scent of his aftershave and body wash strong but oh-so-goddamn good. He slides your shirt up your torso smoothly with his free hand and pulls it from your neck fiercely. You feel his hand somewhat desperately go around your back to unhook your bra, and as it falls casually over the edge onto the floor, he moans at the sight of your exposed tit, your nipple just begging to be touched.

He leans in to mouth the bud, and you whimper at the sensation. He pauses, breathing heavily and open mouthed onto it. You gasp, his hot breath sending waves down your body. “Fuck, so pretty.” Eddie mutters to himself, dark eyes watching your face as you get closer.

A desperate hand of yours tugs him up to your face, desperate for more of his wet and hypnotizing kisses. “Fuck me.” You gasp, suddenly feeling that his fingers weren’t enough. “Need…need your cock. Please.”

Eddie’s mouth opens at the prospect of you simply begging for him, and you can feel a shift in his energy as he starts to kiss you deeper and hungrier. “When you beg so sweetly, how could I possibly say no?” He hums, his hand framing your face.

He finishes yanking the last of your pants off your ankles. As he settles himself in between your legs, he can’t help himself. He leans down, taking one long lick along your folds, for just a taste. You whimper in response, knees springing up to your chest. Eddie chuckles, crawling up slowly until his chest lines up with yours, the tingle of him against you too much to handle. Slowly, he moves into you, and as he stretches you open, your eyes roll back and your toes curl. Eddie watches the utter bliss that takes over your face.

“Oh that beautiful face you make, sweetheart.” He grunts, smoothing his hands over your forehead. His words make you pulse around him. “This fucking tight little pussy wrapped around—” he stops, grunting as you continue to pulse around him. One hand moves down to your hip, caressing it softly he uses the leverage to buck into you.

A hushed swear comes out of you, the simple pleasure from his cock alone sending you into euphoria. Eddie continues slowly, enjoying every inch of your heat around him. “Your pussy…god how did I live without it?”

You clutch onto him, staring up into his darkened brown eyes. You open your mouth to respond in kind, but the particularly harsh rut into you leaves your mouth gasping open and your eyes fluttering shut in pure heaven. “Oh, that’s it.” He mutters, hips moving faster. “That’s my cock-drunk little whore.”

Your nails scratch down his back, and he moans in response. “Eddie, your cock. There’s…I…please.”

“I-I know, baby. I know.”

He collapses onto your chest, and you feel his cock twitch into you as your orgasm takes over your body. His hand carefully sweeps your sweaty forehead as he watches you recover, your eyes losing their haze as you return to earth. “Hi.” He mutters, leaning in to kiss you softly.

“Hi.” You smile. For once, he does take his dick out of you right away, despite your protests. However, you can’t protest any further when he comes back and wraps his arms around you with his chest pressed against your back, his still steadying breaths lulling you into a quiet nap.

Somehow, you know that his arms are always going to be the best place in the world.

-

About an hour later, you’re snuggled against his side, legs intertwined as Eddie watches his show and you work on a crossword puzzle. “What’s a six-letter word for angry?” You ask him, stumped for a good minute.

“Uh…grumpy? Heated? Hmm…raging?”

“Raging! Fuck, I couldn’t get that one. Thanks, baby.” You tell him, receiving a kiss on the head as a response. “Why’d you go in for work, Ed?”

“Other than making my baby horny?” He jokes, muttering it into your hair. “Well, one of my best-known clients called and my men know that when he calls, they need to call me in, because his car is just—” he cuts himself off, holding out the OK sign. He continues talking about the mechanics/politics of handling a car like this in his job. The caliber, the horsepower, the specialized engine, and everything else.

It’s not like you know a whole lot about cars. Most of what he is saying comes out as gibberish. But you listen to him, watching as he gets more and more animated, his hands gesturing wildly as he excitedly explains his morning. You watch him, a soft smile creeping up your face as he describes…what, you weren’t even sure, to you.

He stops as he notices the peculiar look on your face, your eyes glazed over. “What?” he asks, wondering if you caught even a word of his story.

“I love you.” It comes out before you even realize. But it’s true.

With your whole chest, you love him.

Eddie inhales sharply, and he looks at you like you had placed each star in the sky just for him. Because you did. “I-I’ve been wanting to say that to you since I first saw you.”

His words feel both impossible and like they make the most sense in the entire world. Because since day one, you have been captivated by him in every sense imaginable. Taking the time to get to know, see and love every inch of him before recognizing that yes, this is love.

This all occurs to you within a second, because Eddie’s hand is framing your face and you feel his lips on yours, deep and caring to a point that takes your goddamn breath away. Your tongue collides with his, and his fingers are so gentle as they cradle your face it barely feels like he’s holding it. He tastes so good, like the air you breathe is suddenly useless, and all you need to do is breathe him. His fingers intertwine in your hair, he gasps as his forehead collides with your own, clinging onto you for dear life.

“Will you say it?” You ask, realizing he still hasn’t.

“I fucking love you.” He says in a low, soft voice. He uses a hand to force you back and you open your eyes to look into his beautiful brown ones. “I love you.”

Your chest inflates rapidly, like all the emotion just bursts into it. A giggle escapes your lips, the smile on your face seeming to be permanently etched there. He tugs you into the tightest hug, and you feel his heart beat rapidly against your own as your arms fling themselves around his torso, burying your head in his neck.

God, it’s like you fit perfectly there.

He slouches down, ignoring the book you dropped and the forgotten tv show, and lays you down, chest to chest, his arms wrapped around you as you curl into his chest. He nestles his nose into your hair, breathing you in, feeling the breath, the life in you as you breathe in sync with him.

Any sense of time, responsibilities, or the outside world become muted and pale in comparison.

It’s just you and him.  

-

The sizzling sounds of bacon for dinner mixed with Eddie’s humming to some oldies fill the kitchen. Every time he turns around from the stove to grab something, he shoots you a smile that captivates his face, something that you wholeheartedly return each time. The acknowledgement that this is love somehow didn’t feel like it had tied you to anything or that any new expectations were put on either one of you. You simply want his company and he, yours.

You scroll through your phone absentmindedly, though the sight of his hips in his low sitting sweatpants are much more enticing than anything your phone’s algorithms have to show you. Playfully, Eddie keeps dancing a little too hard to the music, head banging and swinging his hips to even the softest of Dad Rock.

God, it’s Heaven. As Eddie serves up a few plates, Dylan comes down dressed in one of his better date night outfits.

“Ooh, hot date?” You ask him, leaning forward onto the kitchen island.

Dylan’s brows furrow, stopping mid stride. “Yeah. Not talking to you about that. You’re still my ex. And you’re still seeing my dad. Weirdo.”

Eddie sends a glare his way, eyes darkening in a split second. Dylan rolls his eyes, sneaking around him to grab a bite of bacon. Ignoring it, Eddie places a plate in front of you with eggs, bacon and toast, and you thank him as he leans in for a kiss.

“Love you.” Eddie mutters, and you smile into his lips and feel him do the same.

“L-love?” Dylan spits out, his voice exasperated. He shakes his head, still chewing on the bacon. “Fuck right off.”

“Dyl.” Eddie starts, leaning forward as he takes a bite from his toast. He has a devious smile on his face, chewing on his idea. “Quiet. The adults are talking.”

If you had expected something out of pocket, it certainly wasn’t that.

The brown eyes Dylan shares with his father widen in pure exasperation. “What?? Dad, I’m six months older than her!”

You barely keep in the laughter that bubbles out of your chest. Eddie grins at you and lets out his own chuckle. “That’ll teach you to be an ass, huh?”

Dylan doesn’t respond, just grits his teeth and yanks one more piece of bacon before leaving through the front door.

-

Dylan Munson got dealt a dirty fucking hand from whoever the fuck is in charge of this shit.

It was only a mere nine weeks ago when you made your way across the mixer to say hi to him that he thought things were going his way. The more he saw you, the more he thought that this had to be leading to something. It made sense to him, but as he had started mentioning long term plans or anything of the like, he could feel you clam up. Every time he mentioned something requiring commitment, your shoulders tensed up, your face winced by only a smidge, but when it became a regular occurrence, Dylan realized you might not have been ready as you thought you were.

He was willing to accept it. So, he took matters into his own hands. Honestly, he would’ve been fine paying the daily fee for parking, but he knew his dad was there, and he was excited to introduce you to him. Boy, what a shit show that turned out to be.

As he woke up to an empty bed, he had expected you to be downstairs. Instead, he was faced with a bowl of cereal without the milk, and he couldn’t tell how long it had been there. He searched the whole house. Your bag, clothes, and shoes were still there, so he knew you couldn’t have gone far. Turns out, he was right. You didn’t. You went two doors down from his own.

The sight of you and his fucking dad in the white sheets was already too much to bear, and then the stab of betrayal from his own father hurt more the initial shock of yours, tugging angry tears from his eyes as he ran to his room. The torture of hearing your whimpers, a sound he knew well, while downstairs trying to cheer himself up was fucking brutal.

When you finally left, his dad came home with a terribly apologetic look on his face as he walked through the front door. Dylan refused to hear a damn word out of his mouth, dismissing all his claims of ‘holding back as long as he could’ and ‘I’ve never felt this strongly about anyone before.’ Shit just hurt.

A day later, Dylan couldn’t hold it in anymore. He screamed at the top of his lungs, the anger finally kicking in. His dad did yell back, but mostly at the choice words aimed at you. It hurt for a moment, as it felt like he cared more about someone he had met last week, his (now ex) girlfriend.

When you and his dad showed no signs of slowing or stopping any time soon, he realized this would become a new normal. Didn’t mean he liked it.

He came home after a relatively long day at work to you and his dad sitting and watching a movie comfortably. His knee jerk reaction was to swear angrily, but the look on your face stuck with him. You had never relaxed with him. You were always looking around corners or there was some part in your body unable to lean into him completely.

As you apologized awkwardly on his bed, his hurt finally felt acknowledged by you, and fuck, he needed to hear that he didn’t do anything wrong. He genuinely started to wonder if he did.

Most of his nights he spent going out, his friends asking where the hot new girlfriend he was bragging about now was. He just said you cheated on him and it was over and they called you a bitch and moved on.

Yes, even Ethan. (The one friend you actually liked)

He drowned his sorrows in alcohol, always making his way back to the house where his ex was expected to be at any given time. God, it was so shit.

After your apology, though, he had to admit, you looked good together. It seemed like his dad’s smile just hadn’t left his face for days, and goddamn, was it annoying to admit that you were good for him. That remaining anger seemed to itch at him, unable to forgive or forget, a buried hatchet with an X to mark the spot.

Ethan eventually brought his girlfriend to boys’ night out, which was met with disgruntled groans from the collective group. Ethan’s girlfriend invited a friend who would be joining, and Dylan fought hard not to roll his eyes.

An hour into the night, a drink, and a few good dances in, Ethan’s girlfriend brought her in, and Dylan stopped dead in his tracks. Okay, no one said she would be fucking gorgeous.

If Dylan thought you were out of his league, then Maya wasn’t even playing the same game. His heart pounded out of his chest, and he knew he had to grab this girl a drink and get her number, now. As he pulled into an easy conversation with her, the hairs stood on his arms as it felt electric just being near her.

Maya met his enthusiasm, agreeing to a date within the first hour of conversation with him. One of his buddies mentioned Dylan had been cheated on by his most recent girlfriend, and Maya was floored. If any girl was lucky enough to have him, how could they even think of cheating?

As Dylan rode home in the backseat of his friend’s truck, drunk on her undivided attention and, well, plain ol’ drunk, something his dad had said came to mind. “I can’t explain it, I just had to know her. In every sense of the word.”

He felt the same way about Maya. Everything about her drew him in. Her smell, the way her jeans hugged her hips, the shine of her red hair. God, she was fucking beautiful.

As he smelled bacon on the way down the stairs, he decided to grab a piece on his way out to his first date with Maya, jitters galore. You asking him about the date was kind, but still too weird for him to gush about the gorgeous girl from the bar he met when that ‘gorgeous girl’ was once you.

Love you, his dad said. The word struck him, it occurred to him he doesn’t truly understand how much you and his father cared for one another. The L word didn’t come easily to Munson men, after all. Dylan walked to his car, disgruntled as the interaction rolled over in his mind.

What a mess he would be bringing her home to, if he ever got lucky enough.

-

Since you worked the next day, you had to go home for the night. The lingering kisses at Eddie’s door were too much to bear.

Too much for Eddie, too. You get a text about twenty minutes after you get home, Need you.

You grit your teeth, you need him, too. Working four days in a row sounds manageable, at least it usually does. Without Eddie to come home to or to wake up with, it’s nearly torture. You ignore Skylar’s comment of codependency. Fuck co-dependency, it isn’t that you depend on him too much, you just need him too much. You need to come home to him, to sit and watch tv with him… It’s the domestic bliss you miss.

Somehow, just reading a book at the end of the night without his even breaths has you on edge. You shoot him a text letting him know you’d be there soon.

As you walk through the doorway of Eddie’s house, he welcomes you and you hop into his arms, inhaling his shampoo as soon as you get close enough to, his familiar scent bringing you an indescribable feeling of safety.  “Need you to stop leaving for so long.” He mutters, feeling nearly crazy for missing you so much while you were gone.

You hum in response, staring into his pretty eyes as they stare down at you lovingly, resting your chin on his chest.

“Move in with me.” It’s impulsive.

You blink, unable to register what he just said. “Uh, what?”

He chuckles, hoping the stunned look on your face is a good thing. “It’s stupid for you to keep moving back and forth between here and your apartment all the time. Move in with me.”

It’s a tempting offer. Could you do it? Realistically, could you bring your things in, set up your skin care routine in his bathroom, have a horde of snacks at your disposal, bring Bethany over for sleepovers…is it possible? He watches as you think it through, and his heart skips a beat as he watches it falter. “I-I can’t. Not yet, at least.”

His head tilts curiously, eyebrows furrowed. “Hmm?”

“I’m still tied to my lease for another three months.” You can’t abandon Sky, not after all this time. “Skylar would be pissed if I just up and left her to either scramble for a new roommate or for a new apartment.”

Was that it? “Oh,” Eddie says, relieved. “I can pay that.”

His answer momentarily stuns you, and a gorgeous laugh escapes his lips as he takes in your slack jaw and wide eyes. “W-what?”

He leans in, kissing your lips sweetly. “Sweetheart. I’m not gonna wait another ninety days when I can just pay it now and get you here tomorrow.”

“You’ll pay my half?” You ask, eyebrows raised, a light smile on your face.

“What’s your rent?”

“1800 for the apartment, we both pay 900 plus utilities.”

He does the quick math. “Oh, so 54 (hundred) to buy the lease out? Yeah, I’ll pay it. Might relieve Sky from being pissed at me for stealing her roommate.”

The casualty of his words drench your underwear, his urge to take care of you sending a heat to your center you can’t explain. You lean in, swiping your tongue on his bottom lip, showing your appreciation. “Can-can we go upstairs?” You ask him, out of breath.

Eddie smiles, taking in your lust-blown eyes and slack expression. “You know that’s not why I offered, right?”

The overwhelming happiness bubbles up from the inside and you shoot a wide smile up at him, chin resting on his chest again. “I know. Still, baby. Want you. Please,”

Eddie smirks, framing your face with his thumbs lightly. “When you say it so nicely, how could I ever refuse?”

You tug him by the hand and start running up the stairs. A yelp echoes through the house as Eddie grabs at your ass near the top, and when he lies down on the bed, you can’t get his cock down your throat fast enough.

-

To say the least, Sky couldn’t find it in her to be angry. She was going to miss you, more than she could describe as her roommate. She also had a three month warning to find a new roommate or a new apartment and had ample time to put at least some money aside while she didn’t have to pay for rent. She really had nothing to complain about. Still, she was gonna miss you.

As soon as the lust of him offering to take care of you died down, you went into overdrive, remembering how stressed you were when you had to move in your current apartment, a lease you’ve renewed twice now. You started making a list of things you needed, working between your phone and a random spiral notebook you found in a junk drawer. How many boxes did you need to get? If you used both Eddie and Dylan’s trucks how many hours would it take to move down the stairs-only building you had?

“What’re you working on?” You hear his voice over your shoulder.

“Oh, just working out the kinks of moving. My car won’t be enough, I’ll need your guys’ trucks to help. I also have my own furniture to worry about. The entertainment center is hers, but the couch is mine. My dresser, my bed, my bathroom shelf, all my bathroom junk—”

“Baby.” He interrupts you, a hand sliding up to your neck. “Relax. I can hire someone to take care of all of this for you. Just focus on packing your things and directing the men around on where to put them.” He places his hands delicately beneath your chin. “Ok?”

Fuck, you might just blow him again.

“Ok.”

And you did just that. You shared your list to Eddie’s phone, who called a smaller moving truck with three men to assist, hired an organizer to assist in organizing what you do or don’t need and who will handle selling your furniture, and finally, paying the rest of your rent to your front office without blinking an eye to get you out of the lease.

Soon, you were on the driveway on a hot day, watching as all the boxes containing your clothes, shoes, makeup, and other junk went up the stairs to Eddie’s (and now your) bedroom, a few staying downstairs.

He stands next to you in a white muscle shirt with a band you don’t know pictured on the front and some sweats, hands on his hips as he watches the movers go back and forth between the house and the truck. He radiates authority, each mover couldn’t be much older or younger than you, but they all look to him with respect, all of their words followed by the word ‘sir’.

“Sir, huh?” You ask, teasing him.

Eddie slightly grimaces, rejecting it. “Yeah, they insisted.”

“Dunno, kinda suits you.” You tease, and you walk back to the house, missing the audible gulp that comes from his throat, imagining it. You, on your knees, begging for him, calling him sir…

“Sir?” One of the movers asks, getting his attention. He flicks back, seeing the clipboard held in front of him. “Need you to sign.”

“Oh, shit, sorry.” He mumbles, picking up the pen to sign.

As he signs his name, Dylan pulls up, taking in the men, the truck, the boxes on the floor visible past the open front door. “She’s moving in?”

Eddie looks at him, apologetic. He had asked you yesterday, and since then, he hasn’t had time to sit down and tell Dylan in person. “Sorry, bud. Kind of just happened all at once.”

Dylan thinks of his new girlfriend’s apartment, the night he had just spent wrapped up in her sheets. “I-I get that.”

Eddie blinks, expecting more of a push-back. “So, dad. I met this girl.” Oh, that explains it. “She’s…” the smile that lands on Dylan’s face is peaceful, and Eddie feels both curious and reassured. “Anyway. I wanted to bring her over for dinner to introduce her. Is that okay?”

A firm hand lands on Dylan’s shoulder, bringing him for a hug. “Of course, bud. When did you want to bring her over?”

“Friday at 6?”

It’s Wednesday, so that gives you both ample time to unpack and get the house ready for a dinner guest. “Friday works. Bring her over.”

“Hey, do you guys need any more help with the boxes?” He asks, running into the house.

Eddie doesn’t answer as he stands, stunned at the change in his son over the last, what, week?

The next two days make Dylan realize although he was in a much forgiving mood, he’s going to need to move out and fast. Just when he thought the two of you were bad, he didn’t realize how much worse you’d be when you moved in. In hindsight, he wasn’t sure how he didn’t see it coming.

Soon, he texted a friend he knew who was looking for another apartment about maybe moving in together after realizing your moans were not coming from your bedroom as he grabbed his keys and booked it for the front door.

You were on Eddie’s laundry room floor, wrapped in his arms, with only your shirt around your torso and his hair halfway out of its ponytail. You were still in the middle of recovering; Eddie edged you twice before finally letting you finish. “Did you hear the front door close?” Eddie asks, still breathing heavily as he does.

“N-no.” You gasp, moving your head up to face him, his chest hair tickling your chin. “Were we that loud?”

Eddie laughs, letting a thumb pet your face lightly. “Have you ever tried to be quiet, sweetheart?”

You shut him up with a kiss, slippery, but filled to the brim with everything you had. “Shut up.”

“I love you.” He mutters as you wrap yourself in his arms, and you whisper it back into his chest. “We do have company coming over, so we should probably finish unpacking.”

You groan lightly, but Eddie takes your hands and forces the two of you onto your feet, your knees lightly buckling. “I have so much stuff! There’s so much left to unpack.”

“Oh, I’m sure unpacking yourself into the second half of the walk-in is so hard, baby. C’mon, I’ll help you out.”

Again, Eddie’s house looks humble from the outside, but it was nothing to snark at. As he made more money, he slowly upgraded and renovated instead of just moving into a bigger house. The one upgrade that wasn’t really for him, but a constant reminder of what he lost, was the his-and-hers closet he had made for his ex, something she only enjoyed for six months before leaving him. He was excited to see your dresses, skirts, pants, and underwear in his closet, and especially your smell. Basically, he was excited for your invasion of the house.

You walk over to his–your–room where there are still boxes sitting, waiting to be unpacked. You start unpacking the one labeled dresses/skirts. As you start laying out a pile, separating the skirts you knew you weren’t gonna wear from the ones you would, Eddie sidled up beside you, pulling one you knew looked good on you up from the pile you weren’t gonna wear. “Hey, hey. Why haven’t I seen you in this one?”

You hesitate in your answer, pulling two more dresses out before answering. “Dylan fucked me while I wore that.” You admit, and he drops it immediately. He pulls another one up, hands moving over the silky blue fabric. Damn that one looked great on you. “That one, too.”

He drops it unceremoniously, hands moving to his hips. “Which ones hasn’t he touched you in?”

You put your hands on the much smaller, less appealing pile. “These.”

Eddie sighs, scratching his head. “Alright. We’re going shopping.” He announces, placing the pile of your old ‘rejects’ onto the floor.

“Huh?” You ask him, not sure you heard him correctly.

“Yep. Just leave all the clothes in a pile right there, and on Saturday I’m taking you shopping.”

“Baby, I work Saturday.”

“So call in.”

After Eddie helps you settle in for the next day and a half, you spend a good portion of your Friday in the kitchen, working in tandem to make supper together. You place plates at the dining room table Eddie and Dylan barely used, straighten up the napkins and the utensils when Eddie comes from behind you, and you feel his cock press right up against your ass. You grind back into it, closing your eyes and whimpering.

“Ed, they’ll be here in like,” you let out a sigh, “half an hour.”

He turns you, giving you a dirty kiss and gripping your hips harshly. “Then we better get moving.” He slips your dress up your hips and your underwear down.

“Hmm…take off your pants.”

He slips his cock in, bending you over the table, making you gasp. “Already off, baby.”

-

Dylan pulls up in his truck, now having to park in the same spot you did in the street since you took over his spot on the driveway. “So, this is my house.”

“For three more weeks?” Maya asks, teasing him.

He lets their hands intertwine, leading her to the door. “I did grow up here.”

“Yet your dad is kicking you out.” She says, eyes narrowed.

“No, not kicking me out…” He drifts off, when Maya’s green eyes silently ask him, he dismisses it. “I’ll tell you later. C’mon.” He unlocks the front door, and as soon as it’s open, a very peculiar, very annoying sound is heard echoing in the house.

“Fuck, Ed, oh shit.”

Maya’s eyes go wide, it takes her a second longer to understand what they were listening to than it did for Dylan. Dylan shuts the front door, shoving his hand into his pocket for his phone. He dials his dad right away. “…Hello?” Eddie asks after three rings.

Dylan puts him on speaker. “Dad, wrap it up, we’re here.”

“Shit, sorry. Give us five—” the sound of your giggles interrupts him, “sorry, ten minutes. W-we’ll call you.”

He hangs up.

Maya’s face is the picture-perfect expression of what the fuck. “Dyl, when you said your family dynamic is odd…”

“I meant it. C’mon, let’s go for a walk to the corner store.”

Maya is taken aback, but she easily falls in line as Dylan holds his hand out for her. “Can’t believe the first thing I heard from your dad was that.”

“Darling, I have never meant it more than I have right now.” Dylan assures her, and she can see how much he means it in his brown eyes. “My dad has met my girlfriends in worse situations. Just be glad we didn’t see anything…’cause that was not coming from their bedroom.”

-

Eventually, you had to go upstairs to find a new dress to wear, Eddie having completely soiled it during your tryst as he phoned Dylan to let them know they were in the clear. Turns out, the two of you had time blindness when it came to one another, because neither of you were even close to done when Dylan had called.

As you climb down the stairs, there’s a knock on the door, and Eddie meets you there in time to open it to face Dylan and his new girlfriend. It was an intriguing feeling, opening the door to Dylan while Eddie’s arm was behind your back. Like a couple welcoming their son home. It was…bizarre to say the least. “Hey, sorry about—”

“It’s fine, dad. Rather not talk about it.” Dylan insists, his arm around a pretty redhead.

“Sure. Come on in.”

They step in, Maya taking a look around at the place as she does. “Maya, this is my dad and his girlfriend, Y/N. Guys, this is Maya.”

You weren’t used to Dylan being suddenly so cool with you and Eddie being together. He’s never out loud said that you were his dad’s girlfriend before without rolling his eyes or gagging. Whatever he had with Maya seemed to bring him some peace.

Thank god, you didn’t know if you could handle more eye rolls from Eddie’s 25-year-old teenage son. “Maya! Nice to meet you.” You hold your hand out to her, which she accepts graciously.

You remember meeting Eddie as a father to Dylan, and while your thoughts were occupied, whatever you were expecting for Dylan’s dad, it certainly wasn’t Eddie. You could see it clear in her face she wasn’t expecting this metalhead, either.

“Hi, Mr. Munson, nice to meet you.” She extends her hand to Eddie, and Eddie just about loses his mind.

“Ew. Don’t. Call me Eddie. Please.” Eddie gags, the same reaction he had when you addressed him that way when you first met.

“Oh. Sorry. Nice to meet you, Eddie.”

Eddie smiles back, purposefully dressing himself down as a parental figure. You could tell he was poising himself differently for them. Whether it was self consciousness over the last time he met a girlfriend, or making it clear to Dylan he had no plans for a second contender, it did the job.

“Alright, the dining room is this way.” You extend your hand out down the hall, leading the way out of a somewhat awkward situation.

The four of you sit at the table, both men at the heads of the table while you and Maya sit across from one another. Eddie picks up the salad bowl, plating himself quickly and handing it over to you. “So, Dylan. Tell us how you and Maya met.”

They both start the story, eager to share. “Oh, can I tell, Dyl? You always get to.”

“Fine by me.”

Maya giggles softly before facing you and Eddie. “Well, my best friend sort of ditched me to tag along to guys’ night, and I refused to be ditched, so I got myself ready and ended up being fashionably late. When she invited me, I was already done for the night, pajamas and all but I got dressed up out of pure spite.” You chuckle, that’s something Bethany would do. “I got to the club, and suddenly I saw Dylan, and I didn’t want to talk to anyone else for the rest of the night.” She looks over to him, her eyes soft and her pink lips in a sweet smile. “He just drew me right in. We talked for so long we didn’t even realize it was time for last call.”

“Wow.” You comment, taking the last bowl in rotation from Eddie’s hands, the stir-fry vegetables. “Sounds like you guys have a great connection.” You look at Dylan at the last word, hoping he receives your message.

“Oh, we truly do.” Maya grins, Dylan shooting a wink at her in response.

Eddie grabs your hand under the table, and you hold it, petting at the tough skin and colliding with his rings.

“Our first date was incredible.” Maya mentions off-hand but doesn’t elaborate. If it was anything like your first date with Eddie, you knew better than to pry further. “So Dylan told me how you guys met, tell me about that.”

You and Eddie share a look of surprise at how casually she mentions it. You weren’t expecting her to know yet, in fact you were wondering if Dylan was going to tell her at all. Eddie lets out a chuckle. “A shitshow, let’s just say. When Dylan found us, it just became real messy in here.”

Unfortunately, Eddie missed the continuous waving Dylan was doing across the table to stop, please!

“How would meeting online make things messy?” Maya asks, the story Eddie had just told her and the story Dylan explained not exactly lining up.

“What?” Eddie asks, now unsure himself.

Your hand meets your mouth in understanding, facing Dylan with his head in his own hands. “Baby, I don’t think he told her, yet.”

“Nope.” Dylan musters out, annoyed.

“Oh.”

“Can someone tell me what’s going on?” Maya asks, watching everyone’s facial expressions one by one.

Dylan sighs, not ready to explain this part. “They didn’t meet online. Remember, my ex? The one who cheated on me?”

Maya rolls her eyes. “Of course I remember that bitch.” She says, giving you a look that says, ‘am I right’.

Dylan sighs, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Uh, Maya?”

“Hmm?”

“That’s her.” He says, pointing to you. “She cheated with my dad.”

Maya looks at you, dumbfounded, as you wave with a tight smile on your face. Being called that cheating bitch behind your back was certainly a new development from him. Not the…greatest feeling in the world. She looks to Eddie, who isn’t smiling, somewhat insulted on your behalf, but gives a friendly wave nonetheless.

“O-oh.”

“I said my family dynamic is different, didn’t I?”

“I thought you meant with how young she is…”

“There’s that…and there’s this. It used to hurt me a lot more, but honestly, since I met you, I don’t really feel that pain anymore.” He says to her. “I wish we could’ve had this conversation in private, but I guess I didn’t warn them.” A new hardness reaches Maya’s eyes as she looks at you, and you’re slightly taken aback by it. “Don’t be mad at them, because I’m not anymore. Well, mostly anyway. My dad said when he met her that he had to know everything about her or he was going to lose his mind.” You look to Eddie, and he winks at you slyly as you mouth the words I love you to him. “I used to think that was bullshit… But when I met you, Maya, I felt the same way, and I realized I couldn’t blame them for pursuing it if it was half as strong as what I felt when I saw you.”

The ice in Maya’s stare all melts the gloss in her eyes. “That’s still super messed up.”

“One hundred percent.” Dylan looks over to you and Eddie, and you’re wondering if the two of you were supposed to leave the table and give them privacy. “But now…they look good together. They’re good for one another. She puts this smile on his face that I never get to see anymore, and she seems more happy with him than she ever was with me.”

Your phone buzzes in your chair under your thigh. A text from Eddie. For the record, no one feels as strongly for anyone as I do for you. No one ever will.

You look at him and he nods once, his lips in a firm line. Your hands reach for his, interlocking with his. “Maya, I know you didn’t mean to but I would appreciate you not calling her a bitch.” Eddie tells her, parent voice on. “Now that we have all that out of the way, Maya, tell us what you do for work.”

-

Maya was a peach, and she seemed great for Dylan. As she helped clear the table she asked Dylan a question and it led to him announcing he was moving out. Out loud, Eddie gave him a proud hug, telling him it was a great idea.

To you, Eddie pumped his fist in celebration. As you washed the dishes that night, insisting Dylan and Maya go enjoy a movie on the couch, Eddie comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around you. “When Dylan finally moves out, I’m fucking you on every surface in this house. I might just tell you to stay naked for easier access.” He leaves a wet kiss on your neck, and you’re left to imagine the possibilities as he adjusts himself while clearing the rest of the table.

True to his word, as Saturday dawns, Eddie wakes you up two hours before you start work and tosses your phone to call in sick for it. You text your manager at his request, and as soon as you hit send, Eddie sends you to his bathroom to get ready for a shopping day. In your first outfit, a pair of shorts and an oversized sweater, Eddie looks up and down at you exasperated and tells you to go get all dressed up and put some makeup on.

When your hands land on your hips at this he backtracks hard. “Of course you can wear what you want, baby! I just know that you love to get all dressed up, and I thought it would be fun for you. That’s all. We’re going to be trying on lots of clothes and I want my girl feeling her best.”

Okay, he has a point. An hour passes by, Eddie moving around you as he gets dressed up himself, less dramatic than his date night outfit, but dressed up all the same. As you finish, a wing on your eye, he comes behind you, looking over your shoulder for something. “You know I used to wear eyeliner all the time?”

“I…no?” You stutter, turning to face him.

“Might put some on today.” He mutters, slightly teasing you.

“If you don’t want to scare the general public, maybe we’ll save it for a date night, Ed.” You yank the pencil away from him, terrified that if you look away for one second, he’ll go overboard.

“Not even a little on my water line?” He asks, and you suddenly realize that yes, he does want some makeup for the day.

“I don’t see why not.” You shrug.

Now you walk hand in hand in the largest mall in town, starting the journey down the large aisle, leading Eddie. But eventually, Eddie ends up leading you, knowing exactly which stores he wants to go to. In the first store he takes you to, you look around the racks timidly, putting away anything you see over 20 bucks. In less than five minutes, Eddie comes by with a pile of clothes in his arms. “I’m gonna get a dressing room started, ok?” He pauses, noticing the 45 dollar dress you just put back. “Ooh, can you hand me that?”

“No, it’s too much.” You insist, looking at the large pile of clothes he has. You thought he meant like, three or four items at the most.

“I didn’t ask how much it was, sweetheart. Hand it over.” He tells you, to which you do. Only five minutes later, as you have only picked out two or three more dresses yourself, does he swing by and tug you to the biggest dressing room, the walls decorated with clothing.

“I-I’m not trying all of this on, am I?” You look around, it would take you at least an hour, and that’s if you hurried.

“Yep. And you’re showing me every piece.” He says, before closing the door on your stunned face.

“Eddie, this is way too much.”

“No complaining, just show me the first one!” he yells to you, no real bark behind his command.

The first dress you wear was a bit revealing, an open back, up to your thighs with a cowl neckline that shows cleavage. He smiles at you, leaning his elbows onto his knees in the seat offered in the dressing room. “Nice… Do a spin.” You roll your eyes, spinning for him slowly and timidly. He whistles lowly. “Man, I’m good. Next!”

He asked for a spin in everything you modeled for him until he didn’t need to, you did it for him. With each new piece, you were learning to not care if you were in a store with him, posing for him as he assessed each piece. Some you thought looked decent on you, he put in the no pile, while others you thought were a sure no, he put in the yes. He told you ultimately, it was your decision and if you felt uncomfortable, you could put one in the no pile, but he knew your body better than anyone. If he insisted it looked good, it must’ve looked good.

At the last piece you put on, he can’t seem to decide, asking an attendant for her opinion. She says she thinks the shirt looks amazing on you but isn’t sure about the style of pants. “Yeah, I chose them just to see if you’d wear it.” You shook your head no, feeling uncomfortable in the business type pants. “Cool. Get dressed in your clothes, we have more stores to hit up.” You toss the shirt to him after yanking it off, and by the time you make your way to the register, the attendant is already handing over two oversized bags to him.

“Eddie, this is enough clothes, I really don’t need anymore!” You insist as he directs you to a store only three spaces over.

As soon as you walk in, they see the big bags Eddie’s carrying and immediately offer their assistance. Eddie rolls his eyes, knowing he only ever gets the star treatment if he’s walking around with the occasional designer bag. (He likes their underwear). “Well, I don’t know if you noticed, but the women’s side of our closet is huge, and you didn’t have nearly enough clothes to fill it anyway.”

Our closet. You’re so fixated on the use of the word our that you don’t realize he’s waiting for you to talk. “Doesn’t mean I need more.”

“Oh, that’s exactly what it means!” He turns to the employee who’s been following him around and hands her the bags. “Be a dear and hold on to these, will ya?” He turns back to you, resting one hand on the rack beside him and staring down at you intensely. “Baby. I want to spoil you. Let me. Please! Pick out some clothes you want, I’ll pick some out, too, and you can try them on.”

“You’ve spoiled me so much already!” You insist, gulping at the sincerity in his eyes. “You’re all I could ever ask for.”

“That’s exactly why I have to spoil you.” He retorts, placing a gentle kiss on your lips. “I love you. Let me show you how much. I have a stupid amount in savings. I kind of want to chuck some out just to keep me humble.”

You giggle at this, finally, fully giving in to his madness.

Madness, it is. As you go from store to store, he gets about two more bags full from each one, and you’re sure some of these outfits will never see the light of day after you see how he looks at you in them. About ten percent will just be something you put on for about two seconds before he takes it off you. He’s buying dresses he knows he’ll be the only person to ever take them off or see you in them.

At one point, he runs back to his truck to put the eight bags he got tired of carrying around away, coming back to meet you in the store he left you in. It wasn’t much of a clothing store, but you had a basket of things you were planning to buy for yourself. Earrings, a knick knack for your desk, a cute notebook and the like. (There was a shirt you found for Eddie that you got just for the hell of it.) You're waiting in line, and you’re digging through your purse for your wallet when Eddie comes behind you, wallet out, card in the machine. “I—”

“Baby. Your money is useless today. Let me.”

You roll your eyes, and the cashier’s wide eyes at his pet-name for you catches your eye, a laugh escaping you. “Yeah, sorry. Guess I forgot to mention my boyfriend is also in his 40s.” You giggle, having just gushed about how Eddie was spoiling you to him.

“What? 40s? I’m clearly in my 20s.” Eddie asks, acting offended.

The poor cashier looks genuinely frightened, holding up his hands in surrender. “He’s joking. He is. Likes to make people squirm.”

“Oh I love to make you squirm—”

“Eddie!” You berate him, yanking him out of the store as he lets out a bout of laughter. He catches his breath, still laughing as you cross your arms, waiting impatiently for him to stop.

“Sorry, sweetheart, you made it too easy! C’mon, two more stores, then we can grab food.”

“Can I pay for food?” You ask, holding his hand.

Eddie smiles, petting your hand with his thumb. “Of course.”

The second to last store he brings you to is an underwear store. Eddie lets you do all the picking, following closely behind and offering any commentary when you ask for it. For once, he doesn’t insist that you model for him, claiming that just seeing you go through the lacier drawers of panties was torture enough. You walk out with a wardrobe’s worth of new underwear, bras, and a little bit of lingerie. It was the first time you were there to see the total, your eyes widening as Eddie takes out his card.

He smirks at your stunned expression. “Oh, this isn’t even the highest bill, sweetheart.” The transaction goes through and the kind lady behind the desks offers the bags to him. “This isn’t even half of it.”

The bill was at about 700 dollars, so the very idea drove you insane that he had already collected every receipt and refused to let you see them.

He brings you to one last store, wall to wall, covered in clothes. He goes a little ham this time, and you notice he focuses on basics. Sweatpants, sweaters, shorts, and under shirts. There’s one thing he chooses that has you struggling to get the zipper up, and eventually you call out for him for help after a good five minutes of fumbling .

He opens the curtain delicately so as to not reveal anything, and you look at him helplessly as your hand can’t reach the zipper sitting low on your ass. His fingers are light to the touch, as one hand rests on your shoulder, one on the zipper as it goes up to your neck, your hair held by your hands. You can’t help the shiver that runs through you as your hair curtains down around your neck, and you turn to face him, holding your hands out to silently ask him what he thought.

What does he think? He thinks that this fucking dress looks so good on you that it would be a crime to get you to start trying on those shorts and sweaters. Hell, you knew your size, you were probably good to go. It was much less revealing than any dress you tried on, a number he’ll probably get you to wear on your next date. He couldn’t help himself, surrounded by the privacy of the small room, he leans in to kiss you sweetly, one hand going up to frame your neck. “Baby.” He mutters, his voice sounding desperate. “You look…fucking gorgeous.”

You smile into it, your hand tracing the seam of his shirt along his torso. “Thanks. Help me out of it? I still need to try on all these clothes.”

His tongue swipes across your bottom lip, surprising you. A slight whimper escapes you as he backs you into the wall against a few clothing articles hanging there. “I will absolutely help you out of this dress.” He says, his voice husky and a touch of arousal lands in your underwear as you realize why. “But then I’m going to get my cock in you.”

“In-in here?” You ask, highly aware you’re in a public space.

“Mmhmm. Be quiet and no one will suspect a thing.” he says, hand slipping under the skirt of the dress to start palming at your folds over your panties. You whimper at the touch into his mouth, focusing all your energy on not alerting the kind sales lady that you were hooking up in her dressing room. “Oh, good girl, keeping herself quiet.”

“It’s…it’s hard.” You whimper, the light touches over your panties not enough, but still causing more arousal.

“So am I.” Eddie chuckles, watching your face as he teases you. He slips the hand into your panties, letting them drop on the floor. “Oh, so wet, huh?” He asks you, eyebrows furrowed as he plays with the slick on your folds.

“Mmhmm.”

“Does daddy buying all the pretty clothes make you all hot, baby?” He asks, voice in your ear and fingers rubbing at your clit gentle, but enough to start you to your destination. You nod your head, because on some level, this was a big turn on for you. “Oh, you horny little slut.”

“Good girl…” You whimper, and Eddie leans back from your shoulder. “Good girl. Please?” You ask him, the slut shaming wasn’t doing it for you.

“Oh, you wanna be called a good girl, huh? Daddy’s good girl?” You nod, your eyes closing as he starts to rub at your clit faster.

“Feels…feels good, Daddy…”

“Daddy’s gonna make you cum, and since you’re a good girl you’re not gonna make a fucking sound. Okay?” You nod, holding a whimper in your throat from the finger he slides into your heat. “Oh she’s close.” He mutters to himself, placing gentle kisses on your neck. “Fall apart on my fingers so I can fuck you, my good girl.”

Your mouth is open in a silent scream, an orgasm shaking through you as you wither against the dressing room wall.  

“Oh, that’s my good girl, such a good listener. Now, turn around and hold on to those hooks.” You do as he says, and as you brace yourself with your hands awkwardly against the hooks decorated with hangers, he zips the dress off you, lifting it over your head and nearly forgetting to muffle his own moan when he sees you aren’t wearing a bra. He lets his pants fall around his calves, and as his cock pushes you, you let your jaw open and eyes close, doing everything you could not to moan out loud.

He slowly bucks into you, and you close your eyes and lean against the wall headfirst while the scent of store clothes invades your senses. Soon, Eddie leans forward, forcing your torso up against his back as he places his ringed hand around you like a necklace. He kisses at the skin he can reach sweetly, eyes open as he watches your reaction to everything he does to you.

While the prospect of being caught by someone was hot, Eddie found himself watching for your visual reactions than listening for your audible ones. Hmm. He didn’t realize he had begun to rely on them. “How’s Daddy’s cock?”

“G-good.” You whisper, leaning into his chest with your head back against his shoulder.

“Gonna cum in you.” He mutters. He starts fucking into you a little harder, and it has to be perfectly timed because if he went all the way in, the sound of his balls against your pussy would be a dead giveaway.

“How’s everything in there?”

“Speak.” Eddie commands you, and you have to tear yourself from outer space for a moment.

“Great, thank you!”

“Just a reminder we try not to encourage two people in one dressing room.”

“She was just needing help with a zipper. Almost done.” Eddie pipes out, sounding relatively normal for someone seconds away from cumming.

“If you need any help or sizes, let us know.”

 “Thanks…” Shit, that sounded out of breath.

“Cum in me.” You whisper, and Eddie does just that, slowly fucking his way through his orgasm, his cheeks flushed, shirt clinging onto the sweat.

You nearly protest as he takes himself out and tucks himself back into his pants. At this point, you were so turned on you kind of wanted to blow him while you had him in the room. You hold his face in your hands and connect your foreheads. “Is it bad I still want more?” You mutter under your breath.

Eddie swears softly, his boner fighting harshly against his slacks. “Fuck. No, I do, too.” He tugs your naked self into his arms, kissing your hair softly. “But…she was suspicious. Unless we want to get kicked out, we should quit while we’re ahead.”

“Can I blow you when we get home?” You ask him, turning to grab your own clothes off the floor.

Eddie chuckles, shaking his head as he grabs the clothes scattered around the dressing room. “Abso-fucking-lutely.”

It took multiple trips from Eddie’s truck to bring in all the bags. You truly didn’t realize how many pieces of clothing he had bought you until you saw it all scattered on the closet floor, all ready to be reorganized. Eddie starts hanging them, and you notice the outline of his cock in his slacks. He was still throbbing.

“Can I?” You ask, sitting pretty on your knees and looking up at him.

“Fuck, I’m never gonna say no to that.” Eddie answers, placing a hand under your chin.

You undo his pants, giving him a hungry look as his cock springs free. “You’re still hard?” You ask, knowing you’ve gotten food at the food court and walked around the mall a bit more before coming home.

“Mmhm.” You smile, jerking him lazily as you eye the length hungrily. You have the idea to tease him more, but the need to feel the weight of his cock on your tongue is too much. Eddie swears loudly as you take him in your mouth, gripping onto the center console for accessories and underwear. “Fuck”

You slowly bob your head up and down, staring up at him through your eyelashes as you relax your throat and allow your nose to meet his stomach. His hands skim through your hair, moving your head lightly, and again, you find it ridiculously easy to submit to him.

Eddie is uncharacteristically quiet, head thrown back in bliss as he feels the spit gather at his base. His stomach starts to tighten up a little bit and under your hands, his thighs are tense. Somehow it spells out to you he’s close.

You prepare yourself, moving your head faster on your own accord, opening your eyes at him again to watch for his reaction as you double down. A goddamn whimper escapes his throat as you continue, and suddenly it’s your goddamn mission to make him make that sound again. “Fuck, baby. Fuck…” Without any warning, the warm salty taste of his cum hits your tongue and you moan around him as he rides through his orgasm.

For once, as you wipe your mouth, you can tell he’s the one that needs recovery. You move to your feet, waiting for him to catch his breath. “Need some water?” You ask him, somewhat joking.

“The fuck was that?” He asks, his face in awe as he looks at you.

You give a cheeky and quick little kiss to the hand on your cheek. “Wanted to make you feel good.”

“Jesus Christ—” he tugs you into a hug, habitually kissing your hair. “How did I get so lucky?”

“Uh Ed.” You push lightly on his chest to get out of the hug, giving him a look of disbelief. You look gesture around the closet to the half of the clothes still not put away. “How are you the lucky one?”

Eddie’s face breaks into a wide smile, his dimples prominent, his smile lines deep. “You keep thinking that, darling.” He laughs, tugging you back into his arms.

As you stand there against his chest, relaxing into him with your eyes closed, the doorbell rings. “I’ll get it. You put away my clothes since you know where everything goes.”

“I did design this closet.” He retorts, pointing a finger at you.

You walk down the stairs to the front door, seeing a tall figure facing away through the smart glass. You open the door to a gorgeous set of brown locks, perfectly coiffed. The figure turns around, and clearly doesn’t expect to see you standing there. “Hey, Ed- whoa.” You recognize his face, but you aren’t sure where from. You subtly fix your hair; suddenly aware you had just given head to your boyfriend. “Uh, sorry, little lady. Is Eddie here?”

“He’s upstairs in the closet. Can I help you?”

The stranger smiles kindly, and you notice the freckles on his face are like constellations. “Oh sorry! I told him I’d be coming through town, but I forgot to say when. I’m Steve, Steve Harrington.”

-

Thank you so much for reading! I love to read your comments, replies, and reblogs. As always, reblogging is the best way to support your fic writers on tumblr.

Taglist: @pinkcowracing @yourthebrokengirl @skrzydlak @thirddeadlysin @sammararaven @bebe07011 @prettylovley @josephquinncore @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you

Taglist for Really Drives Me Mad: @yunnie-f1 @hollster88 @corrodedcoffincumslut @daisyridleyyyy @daniellabrandt @lail1010 @alicentswife @names-were-taken @bl4ckt00thgr1n

[zbis]

☆.｡.:*summary : your boyfriend comes home bruised and bloody yet again

☆.｡.:*pairing : boxer!gunwook x reader

☆.｡.:*warnings & other : blood, mentions of fighting, a bit of angst if you squint(?), fluff, not revised

☆.｡.:*w/c : ~1k

“stupid fucking-” gunwook groans out loud. “such a lucky hit, i swear...” he taps his finger on the marble surface of the kitchen island contemplatively. “i was just distracted,” he tells himself.

he places his head on the counter, mulling over the loss of the night. god, if only he did a left hook instead of the right. 

“ow..” he lifts head up and looks down, noticing his forehead wound has opened back up and has left a blood stain on the counter. “shit,” he mumbles. just as he’s about to go grab a towel to clean it up, you emerge from your room. 

“you’re back?” you yawn, your hair looking just a dishealved as his.

he clears his throat, diverting his gaze awkwardly from your exposed torso when you stretch. “yeah..” he mumbles. you laugh at how red his ears get until you notice the forehead wound among many others. you see his blood stained cheeks and eye that's just asking to get swollen if untreated. “gunwook what the fuck?” you scold him. “i-” you cut him off when you notice the stain he left on the counter. “and you’re leaving your blood everywhere!”

he scoffs, “ i was just about to clean that up..” he sighs, “im not really in the mood for this right now..” just then do you notice the way his eyes are downturned and his usual bubbly self is nowhere to be found. 

“did you-”

you dont finish your sentence because the way hes carrying himself tells you everything already. “oh wook..” you walk up to him and cup his face gently, although he still winces at the touch. “it’s just one loss you know?” he sighs, “i was gonna use the money to take you out or something, we haven't done anything fun in months.”

 “i dont care about that, you’ve done alot for me already plus i dont want you to die while making me happy.”

you dont even need to ask questions to know. gunwook typically never fought past his range. he would only go against people whom he knew he had a good chance against. however, every saturday there was an event where the fighters of the area could go against one of the strongest fighters in the city. the cash prize was good but what was even better was the reputation that came with it and your boyfriend wanted nothing more than to have it.

you were supportive but for the past 4 months, every Saturday without fail, gunwook would come home beat to a pulp. you tried to get him to give up but he was determined to win one day, he just had to get stronger.

you sigh, looking over his face. his lips were more swollen than normal and some strands of his dark hair were crisp with blood. “can you just-” “of course.” you cut him off. you place a chaste kiss on his lips, which he hisses in pain at and you laugh.

you silently lead him to the bathrooom where you keep a first aid kit on deck. you grunt as you pick up the heavy box, refusing to let gunwook help you. “just sit your ass down.” when he does you give him a once over.

he looks like a stray puppy who’d just been abandoned at the side of the road. you let out an exasperated sigh at his appearance, “you know, im not a licensed nurse. you need to go to the hospital one of these days.” he plays with his fingers while you get the kit ready for use. 

“why would i do that when i have my own personal fixer upper right here?” he jabs at your side playfully. “ow, it hurts when you do it.” you glare at him with an annoyed but light smile. 

“too strong.” 

“not strong enough apparently,” he mumbles, once again reminded of yet another saturday loss. “well,” you take place on his lap with a cotton pad wet with alcohol in hand. instinctively he moves his hand to your waist to keep you steady. “you’re strong enough to keep me safe,” you whisper.

before he can protest or say anything demeaning about himself you place the cotton on the cut closest to his eye. he hisses in pain and glares at you. “be gentler,” he mumbles. you hum, moving the piece of cotton across whatever cut or gash you came across, making sure to change it whenever it got too saturated with blood.

 “seriously though...you need to be more careful wook,” you place a kiss on the cut you just cleaned and place a bandaid over that. “my biggest fear is getting a call about a wound I won’t be able to fix.”

he nods solemnly, placing his patched up face on your shoulder. you sigh, choosing to play with his hair to soothe his stress and sadness.

after a couple beats of silence, he suddenly pips up.

"but next saturday i've definitely got it in the bag!"

[mavrintarou]

Wipe Your Eyes [5]

Happy birthday Sakusa Kiyoomi

Warning: none just Kiyoomi trying to be better and do better

Fourth Part - Sixth part

.

Kiyoomi despised this sensation, the feeling of treading on eggshells and thin ice. It reminded him of the time when he was first getting to know Y/n years ago, as if they were starting from scratch once more.

He can’t remember the last time his palms were this sweaty.

He glanced down at Y/n, who walked beside him as they entered the clinic to undergo their first ultrasound for their baby.

Y/n adamantly refused to take a seat in her wheelchair, so it remained stored in the trunk of his car, kept there just in case.

With a determination expression, she walked into the clinic, having woken up early to get ready. Kiyoomi had observed her as she went through various clothing options in their walk-in closet. He had prepared a fresh glass of orange juice, having read that it helps with morning sickness, even though he noticed she hadn’t experienced any morning sickness yet.

Letting out a deep sigh, he mustered up the courage to make his move. He extended his hand, gently intertwining their fingers together. From the corner of his eyes, he noticed her gaze shifting towards their entwined hands, before lifting her gaze to meet his.

She doesn’t say anything, but allowed him to hold her hand, leading them to the front desk to check in.

“Sakusa Y/n,” Kiyoomi answered when asked about the name for the patient.

If there was one thing besides Y/n herself that Kiyoomi had desired after their marriage, itw as for her to take his last name. He vividly recalled the surge of pride and joy he felt when she signed the papers to officially change her name to Sakusa Y/n.

The lady narrows her eyes at him in curiosity before asking, “are you MSBY Black Jackals’ outside hitter Sakusa Kiyoomi by any chance?”

“Yes?” Y/n could hear the suspiciousness in his tone. “Why do you ask?”

“Kiyoomi,” Y/n calls his name softly and calmly, she looks at the front desk lady, “this is the Sakusa Kiyoomi.”

Her face immediately lit up, “my twelve-year-old son is a huge fan of you, Mr. Sakusa. May I please have a photo of you to show him?”

Y/n looks up at him and he can see how her eyes crinkle, smiling underneath her mask. She tugs her hand to step aside but Kiyoomi held on, “let the lady take a picture of you, hmm?”

He grunts and lets her hand go, tugging his mask down. He looks straight at the lady with his signature serious look.

“Smile,” Y/n whispered.

The corner of his lips curved into a fleeting smile, revealing his hidden dimples for a brief moment, just as the lady snapped a photo. “Thank you,” she smiled, “you may sit in the yellow zone over there; the nurse will call you in a bit.”

Kiyoomi takes Y/n’s hand again, leading her in the pointed direction. He pulls her to the first seat available.

“I’m pregnant, Kiyoomi, not fragile,” she assured him, watching as he let out a soft sigh.

He crouched down in front of her, “I know you’re fine, and your legs aren’t hurting,” he replied, his voice filled with relief. “I just worry too much sometimes; I’ll try to relax.”

“Yes, breathe, Omi,” Her fingers push the loose curls back in place.

How can I when you want to leave me? He thought to himself.

“Sakusa Y/n?”

Y/n exhales softly, “let’s go see our baby.”

. .

Kiyoomi’s hand fumbles as the nurse talks through the appointment, “ready?”

They both nodded their heads, silently watching the nurse pulls Y/n’s shirt up. “Just going to squeeze some jelly here…”

Kiyoomi glances at Y/n, noticing her hand squeezing his own, her grip tightened by anxiety. He gently placed his other hand over hers, providing a reassuring touch. She turned her head to look at their intertwined hands before meeting his gaze, her eyes searching for solace.

Like earlier, it was his turn to remind her - he mouthed breathe and she let out a soft exhale before turning her attention back to the screen.

“There you are…”

As Kiyoomi gazed up at the small monitor, it took a moment for his eyes to adjust and comprehend what he was seeing. And then, his focus sharpened, and his heart rate and breath slowed as he took in the sight before him – a tiny, precious glob that held so much meaning and love.

“Looking at your test results looks like you’re about twelve going on to thirteen weeks pregnant.” The nurse glances at both Kiyoomi and Y/n, “congratulations mom and dad.”

. .

Safely tucked inside his back pocket, Kiyoomi carried the four small ultrasound images with utmost care. The nurse had kindly obliged has requested extra copies, and he couldn’t contain his excitement and joy as he held those precious snapshots of their unborn child.

Will their baby be a boy or a girl?

Will they look more like him? Or Y/n?

He prayed they don’t inherit his curly hair.

“’Yoomi.”

Breaking out of his trance, Kiyoomi glanced at Y/n beside him, noticing her expression. He immediately halted his steps and positioned himself in front of her. “Are you okay?” he asked softly, concern etched on his face.

She nodded gently, “yes, you’re just walking too fast for me,” she admitted, her voice filled with understanding.

His expression softened, and he planted a gentle kiss on her forehead. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I got too excited about the baby.”

Their eyes locked in a moment longer than expected, and Y/n whispered, “me too.”

Kiyoomi’s heart skipped a beat, pounding against his chest. “I love you,” he said, a mixture of tenderness and excitement in his voice. “Let’s go find something to eat.”

. .

“Why don’t the first session or two be just you and then we can include your wife after?”

“Sure,” Kiyoomi agreed, it wasn’t what he wanted but if the therapist suggested it, he wasn’t going to go against it. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning then.”

Walking out of Y/n’s office, he walks right past the master bedroom before stopping and backtracking. Leaning against the doorway, he watches Y/n sleep soundlessly. She’s sitting upright against the headboard with her head tilted to the right.

Kiyoomi couldn’t help but notice the increasing frequency of Y/n’s naps, a detail he learned from the pregnancy book he had diligently read. He found himself closely observing her as she dozed off, concern and curiosity intermingling in his thoughts.

As quietly and gently as possible, Kiyoomi pulls the cover back to lift her up and lay her down. Her eyes open and he grabs the cover, quickly pulling it over her. “I don’t want your neck to hurt later.”

Y/n’s tired eyes locked with his, and she reached out to grab his wrist. “Hold me, please?” she whispered, a longing in her words that tugged at his heartstrings. Without hesitation, Kiyoomi climbed into bed beside her, his movements gentle and deliberate. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close to him, ensuring that she felt safe and enveloped in his warmth. Their bodies molded together, offering a comforting embrace that reassured her in the most profound way.

After a few minutes, Kiyoomi reached over to grab an additional pillow, adjusting it to provide support for his neck. He carefully shifted Y/n in his arms, making slight adjustments until he found a position of comfort for both of them. As he gazed down at her, his mind inevitably wandered back to the painful moments when everything in their relationship had started to crumble.

Kiyoomi couldn’t ignore the change in his own attitude that had occurred a few months back. The memories of the handful of times he had snapped at Y/n for trivial matters. He knew his behavior had hurt her, and he regretted the pain he caused.

Dishes are not dried and put away.

Folding his pants, the wrong way.

Her shoes that were in the way and not on the shoe rack.

Y/n lets out a deep breath in her sleep and Kiyoomi tightens his arms around her, pulling her closer.

His lips pressed gently against her forehead.

Kiyoomi made a resolute decision.

He was determined to save his marriage, to mend the fractures that had formed between them. With unwavering commitment, he vowed to put in the effort and work needed to rebuild their relationship and create a future together filled with love, understanding and forgiveness. . .

Speaking to a stranger seated across from him proved to be a challenging task. The weight of the conversation pressed on Kiyoomi’s shoulders, making it difficult for him to find the right words. The unfamiliarity and lack of shared history made opening up even more daunting, adding to the complexity of the situation.

“It’s okay, take your time.” Dr. Kitagowa assured.

Kiyoomi wiped his sweaty palms on his pants, feeling the nervousness bubbling within him. He took a deep breath, gathering the courage to share his past. “Growing up, my parents argued a lot,” he began, his voice carrying a hint of vulnerability. “My older sister, brother and I would often retreat to our rooms whenever they fought. It became a pattern, something I learned to avoid and suppress.”

“What did they fight about?”

Memories resurfaced at the question and Kiyoomi exhaled. “They fought about various things, stupid things,” he replied, “money, responsibilities, misunderstanding… it seemed like there was always something. The arguments were intense, and it created an atmosphere of tension in our household.”

“Was that it?”

“My mom… accused him of cheating. Having a mistress…”

“Did he?”

Kiyoomi learned to shut those memories out. He never knew. His mother’s relentless accusation of his father having a mistress, and his father denying all allegations. The constant back-and-forth created a toxic dynamic within their family, leaving Kiyoomi and his two siblings in the middle of their disputes. It was a painful chapter of his life, one that he had tried to block out and bury.

“I don’t know…”

Dr. Kitagowa scribbled notes down on his notepad before asking the next question, “what happened next?”

Kiyoomi’s voice wavered slightly as he continued to open up about his past. “My parents’ conflicts eventually reached a breaking point,” he shared, his words tinged a mix of sadness and resignation. “They decided to get a divorce during my first year of high school.”

“How did that make you feel?”

He let out a bitter chuckle, “it was a challenging time for all of us, filled with uncertainty and upheaval. I remember feeling lost as if the ground beneath me had shifted.”

“Was that how you truly felt?”

Kiyoomi’s gaze soften as he recalled how his family found their own paths after the divorce. “Yes, in a way, they did stop arguing,” he admitted. “But the divorce brought it’s own set of challenges. There was a sense of loss, not just from their relationship, but also of the family dynamic I had known. It took time to adjust to the new reality, and it left me with a cautious approach towards relationships and a fear of experiencing the same turmoil.”

He felt like he was walking in his father’s exact shoes.

“What about your father?”

“After my dad moved out, my mom focused on taking care of us and ensuring we had stability in our lives. She worked hard to provide for us, and I’m grateful for her dedication. Eventually, she found happiness again and remarried her current husband. It wasn’t an easy journey, but it taught me the importance of resilience and finding joy even in difficult times.”

“What was your parent’s career?”

Kiyoomi sighed, his memories weaving together with his words. “My dad was a professional volleyball player, and his passion for the sport rubbed off on me. He taught me the basics, and I quickly developed a love for the sport. As for my mom, she worked as a nurse, dedicating herself to helping others. Both of them have since retired from their careers and are enjoying a more relaxed pace of life.”

Those days were a blur for Kiyoomi. His dad rarely visited; he accepted a long-term position playing for Italy. His mom kept herself busy with work while his two older siblings were off to college. They kept in touch with him while he was the only one living at home with his mom. He kept himself occupied with volleyball and earned his title during his high school years.

“How did you cope during these times?”

“Volleyball.”

Volleyball was the only thing that didn’t leave him.

Until he met Y/n during their college years.

Kiyoomi was having lunch alone in the cafeteria one day, annoyed by the unnecessary loudness around him. Amidst the chaos, his eyes caught sight of her. She stood out from the crowd, wearing a black mask just like his. As he observed her from a distance, he couldn’t help but be captivated by her presence. Her graceful movements, the way she carried herself with confidence and a hint of mystery, intrigued him. It was as if she possessed an aura that set her apart from everyone else.

He then saw the sign; it was the Writing Club that was having a bakery sale.

He found himself at the table, uncertain of how he ended up there, but instinctively reaching for a bag of sugar cookies. Oddly enough, he wasn’t particularly fond of sweets.

“That’ll be $5 dollars.” She smiled so beautifully up at him and Kiyoomi fished out a $20 dollar bill.

“Keep the change.”

Her eyes widen, “you sure?”

“My donation.”

He turned his heels and hurried away before she could see the blush from beneath his mask.

Kiyoomi would run into her thereafter.

“Are you available tonight?” His tone unintentionally conveyed a touch of urgency, more than he intended.

She gazed at him with wide, innocent eyes, softly responding, “yes?”

His heart raced and pounded forcefully in his chest. “Would you… be interested in coming to my game?” he asked.

Kiyoomi’s heart leaped with joy as the corner of her lips curved into a sweet smile. She briefly glanced down, her cheeks turning a delicate shade of pink, before meeting his gaze again. “I’ll see you later,” she whispered, leaving him with a warmth that lingered long after she walked away.

Three months passed, and finally, he mustered the courage to ask her out.

Two years later, he got down on one knee and asked to be with her forever.

She was his constant light, even more, constant than volleyball.

Despite disagreements, she still chose him.

Kiyoomi was well aware of his own stubborn nature, recognizing that he could be as unyielding as a rock. He understood that loving him could be a challenging endeavor.

Tears welled up in his eyes as he gazed out the window. “Volleyball and Y/n were my lifelines,” he whispered softly. “She was my foundation, providing stability when I felt lost, and yet she also allowed me to adapt and evolve, urging me to become a better version of myself.”

Dr. Kitagowa’s pen scribbled, the room was so quiet Kiyoomi could hear the pen marking the paper loud and clear.

“How would you describe your relationship with your wife?”

Kiyoomi took a deep breath, his eyes fixed on the tranquil cup of water in front of him. “She’s my first girlfriend, my first in so many ways,” he confessed, his voice filled with a mixture of awe and vulnerability. “You see, I’ve never been the most friendly or approachable person, but Y/n… she’s like a flawless being. Kind, beautiful… she’s the light that shines through my darkest moments. Being with her fills me with immeasurable happiness. I struggle to express my emotions, but when I asked her to be my girlfriend, she brought me the greatest joy I’ve ever known.” He let out a soft sigh, a tender smile gracing his lips. “And when I proposed, and she said yes, nothing else in the world mattered to me but her.”

He continued, his voice filling with regret. “She always went above and beyond to make sure I knew she loved me…” his voice cracked, overcome with emotion. “I knew… I should have tried harder, not less, after we got married. I knew… I was falling short. I knew I was taking her for granted…” a tear escaped, tracing a path down his cheek. “I could see it, two years into our marriage. Her eyes weren’t as bright as they once were. Her voice no longer…”

Kiyoomi leans forward, elbows on his knees as his palms covered his face – allowing the tears to spill.

“Here’s some tissue, Mr. Sakusa.”

Reaching over, Kiyoomi delicately takes two pieces of tissue and gently dabs his eyes, feeling the weight of his emotions. It had been a considerable amount of time since he last shed tears, the previous occasion being when Y/n accepted his proposal of marriage. It was a vulnerable moment had kept hidden from Y/n, an intimate detail shared only with his own heart.

“I’m turning into my father,” he muttered, sitting upright, his voice filled with frustration. “Just like him.” He blew his nose, attempting to compose himself. “My parents were high school sweethearts. She was his entire world… just as Y/n is mine.” He lets out a sharp exhale, his gaze shifting to Dr. Kitagowa. “It feels like some kind of curse, but I refuse to succumb to it. I don’t want my marriage to Y/n to crumble like my parents. I have a child on the way, I refuse to become a single parent. I know I need to change, and I’m genuinely willing to make that change to ensure the success of my marriage.”

. .

Y/n gently massaged her calves, feeling the familiar ache that often set in when she had been on her feet for an extended period of time. Constantly reminding herself that she was still in the process of healing, Y/n knew she needed to prioritize taking it easy and not push herself too hard.

Taking a seat in her work chair, she continued to answer some work emails, her fingers typing on autopilot. However, her mind wandered elsewhere, distracted by thoughts that refused to be confined to the realm of work.

“I love you Kiyoomi, I just don’t think I’m in love with you anymore.”

The moment the words left her mouth, a wave of regret washed over her. She instantly realized the gravity of what she had said, yet she found herself unable to retract them, trapped in a mix of guilt and inability to take back her words.

She still in love with Kiyoomi.

Y/n was acutely aware of the power of hurtful words, understanding how they had the potential to inflict deep wounds and cause immense pain. She knew all too well the sharpness with which they could slice through someone’s emotions, leaving lasting scars in their wake.

The agonizing expression on Kiyoomi’s face at the time she uttered those words lingered in her mind, haunting her relentlessly ever since. The memory of his pain served as a constant reminder of the hurt she had inflicted, adding to her own remorse and sorrow.

Leaning back into her chair, Y/n found herself instinctively resting her hands on her belly, even though she hadn’t started showing yet. She absentmindedly began to rub her tummy, a natural and soothing gesture that brought a sense of comfort in that moment.  

Her thoughts are disrupted when she hears the beeping of their front door.

Kiyoomi?

Was he back from his therapy session?

She heard the door closing and she was about to call his name when footsteps hurried down the hall.

Getting up she barely catches Kiyoomi running into their bedroom with a hand over his mouth.

“Kiyoomi?”

She hurried after him to see him dart right into their master bathroom.

Her eyes widened in shock as she witnessed him kneeling over the toilet bowl, his face contorted in discomfort as he vomited out his breakfast.

“Don’t,” he snapped, hastily extending his hand to signal her not to come any closer. “I’ll be fine,” he reassured, his voice strained with discomfort.

Ignoring him, Y/n grabbed a towel, quickly running it under warm water, and instead of giving it to him – she wiped his face and mouth.

After flushing the toilet, he slumped down against the wall, his body still heaving with the aftermath of his ordeal.

Kiyoomi’s complexion appeared pale, and his face showed signs of exhaustion, indicating the toll of his sickness had taken on him.

“What happened?” Y/n asked worried, wiping his face. She gets up to grab a bottle of water from their cabinet that Kiyoomi often stocked up.

He sips and gurgle water, spitting it into the toilet bowl. “I was fine until I got home…” He relaxed against the wall, closing his eyes.

“Come, change and go lay down.” She reached out to pull him up, her petite frame reminded her of the noticeable height difference between them.

She gently pulled at his shirt, carefully removing it and tossing it into the laundry basket. Making her way to their shared closet, she selected one of his many black shirts.

Meanwhile, Kiyoomi discarded his pants, adding them to the growing pile in the laundry basket, leaving him standing there in his boxer briefs.

Y/n felt a sudden warmth spread across her cheeks as if it were the first time she had seen her husband in such a state of undress.

“Here,” she hands him the shirt, looking away.

Kiyoomi takes it without a word and walks over to the sink to wash his face.

Exiting the bathroom, Y/n made her way to their bed, gently tugging the covers. Kiyoomi followed and dropped onto their bed.

With tender affection, Y/n pulled the covers over him, arranging them in place with a nurturing touch reminiscent of caring for a child. The act carried a sense of intimacy and tenderness, reinforcing the bond they shared as partners and companions.

“Can I get you anything?” She asked, pushing his curls.

He shakes his head, closing his eyes. “No, but don’t be on your feet for too long, and make sure to eat, okay?”

“Yes, Yomi,” Y/n answered, rolling her eyes, and leaving him to rest.

.

Y/n turns her computer off for the day and goes to check on Kiyoomi for the nth time. It’s been four hours and she has checked on him a few times – finding him sleeping soundlessly.

“Kiyoomi?” Y/n called softly, seeing the bed empty with the comforters thrown half across the bed. She heads to the bathroom and knocks on the door, “Kiyoomi, are you okay?”

On the other side, she could hear him gagging.

The door was locked as she tried to turn the door knob. “Omi! Omi open the door for me please.”

He was not prone to falling ill often, but when sickness did manage to take hold, it tended to hit him hard, usually resulting in severe symptoms.

The door clicks and opens, he looks at her with the same pale face from earlier as he wipes his mouth with his hand. He walked past her and back into bed.

“Let’s go to the hospital.” Y/n pleaded, trailing behind him.

“No,” he answered, getting back into bed, and pulling the covers over his shoulder, “I’ll get over it. It��s probably a bug.”

.

Four days later, Y/n pleaded with him to visit the hospital and get his condition checked by a medical provider.

By this point, exhaustion had taken its toll on him. Every time he attempted to eat or drink something, it would inevitably be regurgitated within minutes to hours, leaving him in a constant state of discomfort and fatigue.

He couldn’t keep anything down and had absolutely zero energy.

He was bedridden.

Y/n taken the last few days off to watch over him, even if it was just him sleeping most of the time.

He surrendered himself to her embrace, his tall 6’3” frame seeking solace in the cozy confines of her small, petite form. In between the moments of rushing to the bathroom, he found peace in deep slumber, snuggled tightly against her side. His long arms enveloped her waist, providing a sense of security and comfort amidst his illness.

Occasionally, she had to gently rouse him from his sleep to sip on small amounts of apple juice, the only thing they could manage to keep down. It became a routine, carefully coaxing him to drink the soothing liquid, hoping it would provide him with some nourishment and relief from his persistent sickness.

He let out a soft groan against her chest, his words barely audible as he mumbled something incoherent before drifting back to sleep once more.

Every time he stirred in her arms, she would instinctively freeze, not wanting to disrupt his rest. She held her breath, careful not to make any sudden movement that might disturb his fragile state.

When his breath would steady, she would continue to read her pregnancy book.

Couvade Syndrome

New fathers may experience pregnancy symptoms such as nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, and or constipation…

… some may experience mood swings, fatigue, and other physical and psychological common symptoms…

.

“So,” Kiyoomi muttered, pulling his mask down slightly, “you’re telling me I’m experiencing pregnancy symptoms on behalf of Y/n?”

The doctor nods, “very possible. All your symptoms are clear indications of Couvade Syndrome but continue to monitor yourself and we can do some further testing if it doesn’t get better.”

Y/n squeezed Kiyoomi’s hand as they walk out of the clinic. “Do you want me to drive?”

“No, I’m fine,” he grumbled, his tone slightly dismissive. However, as he glanced down at her with gentle eyes, his expression softened. “But thank you,” he added, a note of appreciation lacing his words.

They get into his car and Y/n mutter, “sorry you have to endure this, I know how much you hate being sick.”

Before they could leave the parking lot, Kiyoomi turned his body halfway towards her, taking a deep breath to gather his thoughts. Y/n mirrored his movement, turning her body towards him, her gaze filled with anticipation.

Kiyoomi gently reaches out, tucking some loose strands of hair behind her ear. His voice carried a mix of determination and tenderness as he spoke. “I will endure this Couvade shit… if it means that you don’t have to go through it. I want to share the burden and make sure you have a smoother pregnancy journey.”

. . .

E/n: Our baby is trying - thank you for being patient with me and WYE.

>>> @pierroswife @queenelleee @eadyladlegard @mfreedomstuff @erintaro @callmeraider @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wolffmaiden @cloud-lyy @chickflickjunkie @saikisho3 @sunawayx @vicolangelo @tsumu-senpai @famebydefinition @imnotjo @jojowantstocry @levistiddies

[imabeautifulbutterfly]

Ok!!!!! Two more fun ones for you!!!!

7 and 9

29 and 48

I think those will be fun pairings XD HEhehehe you did SO great on the last one. Take all the time you need ❤️ But your creations make me so happy!!!!!

(Do I need to mention who? ;D)

@dragonrider9905 Hi my dear. Thank you for submitting two requests in one. Here's the first one. So this is 7 and 9. I hope you like.

Love oo

I'm Sorry

Warning: Angst, hurt, fluff, kissing, being left behind, apologizing, I think that's it. If I miss any please let me know.

Italics: Flashback

Main Master List   |  Star Wars Fic Roulette

You were at your wits end, if that had even been possible. Crosshair was being unbearable lately, all because he had gotten injured during a training exercise, and you may have had to yell at him until he actually got treatment. Then you had to yell at him to make sure it was taken care of properly, which of course he refused to actually come to your med bay to be treated. 

So now you were storming down towards Clone Force 99’s barracks to have it out with the steely sniper. 

You opened the door and saw Hunter lying down, nursing one of his migraines. You’d deal with him in a second as you looked around the room. 

“He’s not here.” He finally offered as his arm was draped over his eyes, blocking out a bit more of the light. 

You let out a sigh of contention, “When I get my hands on him …” you mumbled. 

“Ha!” Hunter let out, “When you do, can I be there to watch?” He lifted his hand slightly. 

“Sure” you moved over to him, your tone of voice calming down, “What’s wrong? Migraine?”

He nodded slowly, “There was a visiting guest today, and they had some strong cologne on.”

You shook your head, it stated very clearly when delegates came to Kamino, the facility was a scent free zone. “I’m sorry, shift over a little” you tapped his hips, so you could take a spot beside him. He shifted without a complaint, keeping his arm where he needed. “Let me see” you pulled out your datapad and scanner, waiting to scan his head.

Begrudgingly he let down his arm, letting you do your job.

“Well, at least it isn’t a concussion, or anything else.” You went into your med kit and pulled out the migraine medication for Hunter, “Let me see your neck.” You watched as he tilted his neck slowly, you cleaned it with sanitizer before pressing the hypospray into his neck. “Give it a few minutes, in the meantime, I’m going to get you a cool cloth. You should remove your armour, while I do that.”

You stood and headed to the boys fresher, doing your best not to look at the mess four guys usually made. You squeezed out the excess water from the washcloth and went back to sit beside Hunter. His armour now neatly stored, in the cubby under his cot. You gently pressed the cool cloth on his head, holding it there, his hand resting on top of yours. 

“Better?” You asked as you gently rubbed his chest.

“You’re not as bad as everyone says you are.” Hunter quietly stated, as he smirked, his fingers gently caressing the back of your hand.

“Yes, I am” you smiled at him, knowing he couldn’t see it. His hand rested on your waist as he held you closer. 

“Not to me.”

“That’s because you’re different”

He opened his eyes and looked at you smiling, “Am I now?”

You giggled as you leaned close and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, “You think I’m doing that with anyone else?”

“No. But it’s nice to hear that I’m special to you.”

“You are” you hand moved from his chest to caress his cheek.

“You are to me, too. I …” the words he wanted to say failed to come out, he simply smiled, as he leaned into your hand, “I like how you take care of me.”

“Good, now rest.”

You watched him close his eyes as he fell asleep while you did your best to help him ease the migraine away. 

That was nearly four years ago, you lost contact with him, when he and his brothers escaped with Omega. Then Crosshair joined the Empire, and now here you were standing beside Rex and his brothers on their secret base, as Hunter, Crosshair, Wrecker and Omega stood before you. Tears welled up in your eyes as you and Hunter locked eyes. Omega ran over to you wrapping her arms around you.

You didn’t hesitate to kneel and hold her close. “Hi sweetheart, it’s been too long.” You mumbled into her neck as you held her. Her tiny arms, keeping you close as she let tears slide down your cheek. Your eyes, still drifting back to Hunter without your permission. Once Omega was okay, you moved over to hug Wrecker, and Crosshair. 

“I’m glad you made it out,” you whispered to him.

“Glad you’re still alive,” he mumbled back, despite the annoyances you both had with each other there was still a lot of respect and friendship. 

You stood in front of Hunter, wanting to say more than time allotted. You simply hugged him and walked away. While Rex and Howzer explained the situation to Hunter and Crosshair, you spent time with Omega and Wrecker, and their new member, Batcher.

Hunter watched as you sat with Omega, laughing and teasing her, like it was old times. He had no idea you two had known each other back on Kamino, but there were so many ‘need to know’ and ‘confidential’ situations happening that even secrets had secrets. 

He wanted to apologize, but how do you begin with, ‘I’m sorry, I left you behind.’ He shook his head focusing back on Rex and Crosshair’s discussion. He should pay attention to the situation at hand, he shouldn’t let his mind wander. 

Yet, he couldn’t pull his eyes away. 

“Just go talk to her,” Crosshair whispered.

“And say what?”

“Anything. Cause you’re no good here.”

Hunter nodded and headed towards you, tapping your shoulder lightly, “Mind if we talk?”

You looked from him to Omega and Wrecker, and back to his eyes, nodding. “Sure, come with me.” You stood and headed to an area you wouldn’t be disturbed or overheard, “What did you want to talk about?”

You crossed your arms, keeping yourself distant from him. You weren’t ready to deal with … whatever dealing with Hunter entailed. 

“I’m sorry”

An apology? That wasn’t what you were expecting, as you slowly shifted your eyes to him. “Sorry?”

“For leaving you behind… I tried … I wanted to go back for you …”

You shook your head, “Don’t.” You offered sadly, “There’s no point reliving the past. Is there? I mean you had to do what was right for your family.”

“Cyare …”

You held up your hand at the term of endearment, “Don’t.” It seemed to be your favourite word of the day, and you’re not even sure why you were stopping him. Yes, it hurt when Crosshair told you they left the two of you behind. Yes, it hurt that Hunter didn’t even try to reach out to you. Yet, you knew why. You understood. You had understood then, you had even understood ten minutes ago, when you laid eyes on him. Yet, hearing him apologize somehow made all that understanding null and void, and your true hurt finally came to the surface. 

“I understand, Hunter. I do. But … but it still hurts. And regardless of anything else, we have to get along now. Right?”

You looked into his eyes, just wanting to bury the feelings that were so easily resurfacing just being in his presence. He let out a sigh and nodded. You offered him your best smile, as you held out your hand, “Friends?”

“Friends,” he confirmed, shaking your hand. 

“Great. Look on the bright side.”

“The bright side?”

“Yeah, at least we’re working together again, it’s just like old times.”

“Well not just like old times,” he clarified. 

“No. Not just like old times.” You nodded and headed back to sit with Omega. 

Main Master List   |  Star Wars Fic Roulette

Tag list:

@liadamerondjarin @badbatch-simp24@spicymcnuggies@lady-ren @firstofficerwiggles @darkangel4121 @discofern @kavecika @monako-jinn-stories @ladykatakuri @avathebestx @theroguesully @furyhellfire66 @carodealmeida @ciramaris @sprout-fics @twinkofthedink @dindjarin-mandalorian @ulchabhangorm @littlemisspascal @tortor-mcgee @vodika-vibes @clonethirstingisreal

[save-the-villainous-cat]

SUPER FLIRTY prince x FLUSTERED maid but make it really suggestive!! u can change the genders or prns if you want

His laugh was soft but died when she put a finger on the swollen flesh on his back. He couldn't hold back the moan and neither the curse.

"You know, Your Royal Highness, you would spare us all from sorrows if you weren't this reckless," she said and he buried his head in the pillows. Admittedly, he had been a fool. He had been told several times that he was good at hunting and riding. It was one of the few royal activities he actually enjoyed.

He had gotten cocky. Earlier today, once he had made sure that his maid was watching, he had tried to look especially heroic during the hunt.

In the end, too drunk on the thought of making her blush, he had fallen off his horse and landed on the hard stones of a shallow stream. She had been the one to save him from drowning in knee-deep water. She had been the one to find and calm down his horse an hour later. She was the one who was observing his wound now.

His face burnt.

"Where would be the fun in that?" he asked.

"The fun would include you being alive."

"Aw, you care about me." She let her finger touch his red skin again and he hissed, squeezing the pillow hard. He was glad his face was pressed against it. He was embarrassed for his dumb decision. But at least, her fingers were on his back and even though it hurt, he loved to feel her kindness.

"I care about the heir of my kingdom."

"Ouch." The next time her fingers were on his back, he flinched. The salve she had mixed together was colder than last time. But he was quiet this time. Her fingers went over his back, over his shoulders. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt this safe. Probably when she had stitched a wound on his leg a month ago.

Although, he had to admit, that had been much more stressful with her face close to his crotch.

"Are you not going to make any comments?" she asked and he could hear the smile when she spoke.

"Don't tell me you actually like it when I do that?"

"I am just wondering why you're being so quiet today," she said. Her fingers travelled down his back and his eyes widened involuntarily.

"I am thinking about your fingers. And where I would love to feel them," he said. He loved to make her blush but today, for whatever reason, he was the one who couldn't get rid of his hot face. She stopped going down his spine and he lifted his head. "Why did you stop?"

He caught a glimpse of her face. She worried her lips between her teeth.

"Oh, I...apologies. I was not-"

"I am starting to think that you enjoy touching me as much as I do."

She giggled nervously. "Well, I..."

"And I also think that you're searching for excuses to do so sometimes." She looked as if he had caught her in the middle of stealing something. He could only smile.

"Lay next to me?" he suggested and she didn't even hesitate to join him in bed. He made enough room for her but somehow when both of them shifted, he ended up on top of her. He looked down at her pretty lashes. His back still hurt but in a good way. "I like you."

Her hand found his biceps and he swore he saw the stars.

"You have got to be more careful," she said. "I feel like you do these things on purpose so I nurse you back to health."

"Well, what do you expect from me? When you have such gentle hands?" He lowered his voice. "When I would give away the throne to a total stranger, just to hear your laugh one more time?"

"Your Royal Highness, I..." Her eyes dropped to his lips.

"Every wound feels sweet when you're the one taking care of it, I fail to put into words what you mean to me." His heart was drumming in his chest and he was overwhelmed by the feeling of her hands on his biceps travelling up to his shoulders. He wanted to build churches dedicated to her with his bare hands. "You have always been more than a maid, more than a friend."

"You're not supposed to say these things out loud," she said but her hands found his face.

"I refuse to whisper them." And with that, she pulled him down gently and kissed him over and over again until he asked himself who was the royal and who was the servant here.

[specialagentlokitty]

House x reader - supporting

Hi. I saw requests were opened. I was wondering if you could do #4 Don’t you dare touch them with House. The amount of simping I do for that man is not healthy. Thank you - @imkaiandtrash 💜

Everything happened so fast, you weren’t even sure how you ended up in hospital.

When you woke up the lights were blinding, and you were scared and all the machines beeping were overwhelming.

Sitting up, you ground slightly and looked down. Lifting your shift, you saw a bandage wrapped around you torso.

Letting your shirt fall, you wanted to get out of bed but your body felt heavy.

“How are you feeling?” A nurse asked.

She walked in and took your vitals.

“What hospital am I in?”

“You’re in Princeton–Plainsboro Teaching Hospital.”

You nodded your head and rested your head on the pillows behind you.

House worked here, you wondered if he was in.

“Is Gregory house here?”

“I believe so, shall I get him?”

You nodded your head and she smiled and scurried away.

You hated hospitals, you wanted him to sit with you for a bit.

You wondered if he even knew you were here.

You couldn’t relax, you just wanted to go. But you couldn’t discharge yourself until you could actually get up and out of bed.

A few more doctors came in but you refused to let them treat you.

Nurses you were fine with, but if a doctor was going to look over you, you wanted it to be house.

“I’m going to change your bandage. Either you sit there or i sedate you.” The doctor snapped.

He stormed over and pinned you down, holding your arm down as you yelled and fought him.

“Hey!”

The doctor stopped and loosened his grip on you, turning to the door and you did too.

You sighed as you watched House come in, a glare on his face as he walked around your bed.

He stood in front of the doctor and hit his hand away with the cane.

“Don’t you dare touch them.” House hissed.

“They need their bandages changed.”

“And I will do it, get out. Now.”

“Whatever.”

The other doctor stormed away and house turned to face you.

He reached out and gently touched your cheek with a sigh.

He leant down and kissed the top of your head as he set his cane aside and started to sort all the supplies out.

He gently reached out towards your shirt.

“May I?”

“It’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”

He smirked proudly and lifted your shirt up.

“Oh believe me, I know.“

You chuckled, and shook your head at him as you watched him change your bandage.

When he was done, he sat on the edge of your bed, kicking his feet up and let you rest your head on his shoulder.

“Will you stay here tonight?”

“Will I get a reward?” He teased lightly.

“You’re a pig. I’m gonna ask Wilson.”

“Nope. Not a chance, he’s not staying here with you.”

He grinned and grabbed his hand, lacing your fingers with his.

“But really, what do I get if I stay?”

“It’s a secret.”

“Come on!” He whined.

You chuckled, bringing his hand up you rested it on your stomach along with yours and let out a groaned pain as you shuffled down.

House watched you intently, making sure you were okay before he rested his head on yours.

You fell asleep and he fell asleep not long after, but he woke up whenever anyone walked in and quickly scared them off because he wasn’t having anyone wake you up

[sammysficfactory]

All The Little Things

mingyu x blackcoded!reader

tags: fluff

summary: The little moments that make up the best of your relationship with Mingyu.

warnings: mention of food

notes: writing something new when i already have a draft i cant finish is my guilty pleasure, i feel like this is bad :(, not beta read

wearing the other’s clothes

Mingyu walks into your shared apartment, visibly tired from his flight. The sizzle of cooking and the aroma of food comes wafting through the doorway. He sighs, hanging his jacket on your shared coat hanger. He makes a beeline for the kitchen, and wraps his arms around your waist, spooking you a bit.

“Sorry.” He apologizes sheepishly when he sees you jump, placing a soft kiss on the top of your head. He looks down at you before noticing something he hadn’t when he came in to greet you.

“Are you wearing my shirt?” He asks before laughing quietly. You nod and shrug nonchalantly.

“Yeah, it smelled like you so I wore it. I missed you.” You admit. Mingyu had been out of the country for about a week, and the two of you were fairly clingy partners. It was always tough when the two of you had to go away for work for an extended period of time.

“That’s cute, I missed you too.” You can feel him smile on top of your head before leaning down slightly to kiss your temple.

“How was your shoot?” You ask, you were always curious about your boyfriend and his work activities. You had a more regular job, working in finance at a corporation.

“Meh. It was regular, I didn’t get to see all of the photos. I liked the outfits though.” You make a sound of amusement as you stir the pot.

“I can’t wait to see them! You’re gonna look so nice.” You piped. You could feel Mingyu grin again on your head.

taking care of the other while they’re sick

Mingyu laid a warm and damp cloth on your forehead. You roll your eyes.

“Gyu, I’m fine. You don’t have to do all this.” You sneeze almost immediately after, sighing at your body’s reluctance to help prove your point. Mingyu shakes his head.

“No, no. You’re sick and need rest. I’m not letting you lift a finger.” He warns. You sigh, knowing that Mingyu would start sulking if you refused anymore. You found it endearing that your boyfriend wanted to take care of you while you were sick, and he was glad he had the week off.

Mingyu leaves you alone in the living room momentarily. You could tell that he was making something to help nurse you back to health. He would come back to the living room occasionally to check on you and place soft kisses on your forehead.

“Ta da! I made you soup.” He says, quietly grinning. He looked so proud of himself, and he was a great cook, so you were eager to eat. He’d made a chicken soup with shredded chicken breast, potatoes, carrots, peas, and broccoli.

“This is really good, Gyu!” You say in between spoonfuls. Mingyu watches you eat with a warm smile, he loves watching you eat. He doesn’t know why, but his heart beats a little faster whenever he watches you eat the food he makes.

“i love you”

The two of you sat on your couch in your shared apartment, watching whatever corny romance movie Mingyu turned on. You watch the cliché scene of the female lead realizing that the love of her life was right in front of her in the form of her best friend.

“I love you, Gyu.” You say randomly. Mingyu kisses your hand that was intertwined with his.

“Out of nowhere?” He asks, not surprised to hear it, but taken a little off guard. You shrug, eyes still on the screen.

“Yeah, I guess I just wanted to say it.” You nodded. Mingyu pulls you closer, as if the two of you already weren’t unbelievably close together. Mingyu grins, his canines making a welcome appearance.

“Well I love you too.” He professed dramatically, placing a wet kiss on your cheek causing you to groan and roll your eyes.

“Mingyu!” You whine, wiping the side of your face. He whines when you wipe the kiss, opting to kiss all over your face.

“Let me love you!” He pleads playfully, and you roll your eyes and let him.

“You’re lucky you’re cute, Mingyu.” You warn. He grins mischievously and laughs.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, Y/N.” He rolls his eyes before kissing you again.

“this made me think of us”

In the middle of work your phone buzzes. You pick up your phone to see the notification is a text from your boyfriend.

gyu🩷:

i saw this and thought of us

He sent a photo of two golden retrievers laying together in their owners front yard. You smile at your phone at the cute photo he sent. You quickly shoot him a text back.

you:

that’s so cute, we should go on a picnic soon

gyu🩷:

when?? i’m down. you always look so cute in sundresses

You roll your eyes. He always thought you looked more than cute when you wore sundresses.

falling asleep on them

The two of you are laying in your shared bed, basking in the comfortable silence the two of you created. You both were scrolling on your phones, occasionally showing each other a cute or funny video.

“Babe look.” Mingyu lifts his phone to show you a video of a group doing a try not to laugh challenge on tiktok.

“That’s so dumb.” You snort.

With the comforting weight of Mingyu’s head on your chest as you lazily scratched his head, it was easy to relax and decompress from your stressful day.

You show your boyfriend a cute cat playing with a laser, but Mingyu doesn’t respond.

“Gyu.” You call for him, silence.

“Mingyu.” You call again, a little louder this time before craning your neck to look at him. He was sleeping. You smile softly to yourself. You continue to scratch at his head, knowing if you were to stop altogether he would wake up and start whining.

So you continue on, slowing down gradually before stopping due to you falling asleep. As your eyes flutter closed, you feel Mingyu pull you closer to his body. You let him nuzzle into you, pulling him close to you as you sleep.

[deadpresidents]

Burial At Sea: The Odyssey of JFK's Original Casket

It was approximately 1:00 PM when a man called Vernon B. O'Neal of O'Neal's Funeral Home and asked for the best casket that O'Neal had available.  The man on the phone, simultaneously calm and tense, needed the coffin quickly and O'Neal had a slight problem.  Of the 18 people who worked at O'Neal's Funeral Home, 17 of them were out to lunch.  After all, it was a beautiful Friday day for November in Texas.

O'Neal picked out a solid-bronze coffin with white satin lining tagged at a sales price of $3,995 from his storeroom and waited for three more of his employees to return from lunch.  The bulky Handley Brittania casket from the Elgin Casket Company weighed over 400 pounds when it was empty and O'Neal certainly couldn't lift it into his Cadillac hearse by himself.  Once he had it loaded, he rushed to Parkland Memorial Hospital on the most important delivery of his career.

The man who had ordered the casket, Clint Hill, was a Secret Service agent and less than an hour earlier he had climbed on to the back of a moving limousine to try to get to the subject he was charged to protect.  He was unsuccessful.  The casket was for the President of the United States, John Fitzgerald Kennedy.

When the casket arrived at Parkland Hospital, O'Neal was met by agents from the Secret Service and some of President Kennedy's aides.  They helped O'Neal push the coffin into the hospital and down a corridor towards Trauma Room One where the President had been officially pronounced dead just minutes earlier.  One of the President's aides and the doctor who had just worked on Kennedy tried to distract the President's grieving wife so that she wasn't anguished further by the sight of the coffin that her now-dead husband was about to be placed in.  

Jacqueline Bouvier Kennedy refused to turn away and begged to be let into the Trauma Room to see her husband once more.  The doctor didn't want her to see anything else, but Jackie insisted, telling the doctor "How can I see anything worse than what I've seen?" and pointing out that "His blood is all over me!"  The doctor let her in the Trauma Room as O'Neal wheeled the casket inside and she placed her wedding ring on JFK's finger before retreating back to the outer hallway once again.

Vernon O'Neal was horrified when he saw the condition of the President's body.  Blood was everywhere and a gaping wound exposed brain matter which was seeping out of John F. Kennedy's head.  Not wanting to damage the beautiful and expensive casket that he had picked out for the President, O'Neal and several emergency room nurses went to work.  The bottom of the inside of the coffin was lined with a plastic mattress covering and the President's body was wrapped in a bed sheet.  The nurses went even further and spent 20 minutes carefully wrapping President Kennedy's head in numerous white bed sheets so that blood didn't seep through and stain the lining of the casket.

After Kennedy's body was placed in the coffin, preparations were made to leave Parkland Hospital and take the President back to Air Force One at Dallas's Love Field so that they could transport him back to Washington, D.C.  As the Secret Service and the President's aides (many of whom were longtime, close friends of JFK) wheeled his casket towards the exit, they were stopped by Dr. Earl Rose, the medical examiner for Dallas County, Texas.  In 1963, it was not a federal crime to kill the President of the United States.  Because of this, there was no federal jurisdiction for John F. Kennedy's murder -- only local.  Despite tsxxxshe scale of the crime to the nation, it was technically just another murder in Dallas, Texas on November 22, 1963 (because of the laws at the time, on a purely legal basis, the murder of Dallas police offer J.D. Tippit about 45 minutes after Kennedy's shooting was a far more serious crime than the President's assassination).   Because of this, Dr. Rose informed the men escorting the President's body that they needed to leave it in Dallas.  Rose noted that he needed to autopsy the body before they took it anywhere.  To Dr. Rose, a homicide victim was a homicide victim and he had a job to do.

The Secret Service was incredulous and President Kennedy's loyal aides were even angrier.  In the corridor of Parkland Memorial Hospital, things got tense.  Rose found himself in a shouting match with the Secret Service and some of Kennedy's aides.  Even the doctors at Parkland sided with the Secret Service and pleaded with Rose to release the body so that they could take the President back to Washington.  A justice of the peace arrived, with the power to overrule the medical examiner.  But he didn't.  The justice of the peace said that Kennedy would have to be autopsied in Dallas and ensured the Secret Service that it wouldn't take any more than three hours.

Again, tempers flared and the men in the hallway at Parkland were close to fisticuffs as the medical examiner, Dr. Rose, literally blocked the casket's path with his body in order to keep it inside the hospital.  When the President's close aide, Kenny O'Donnell, appealed to the medical examiner and the justice of the peace for compassion for Jackie Kennedy and an exception for this case so that they could return the dead President to Washington and get Jackie out of Texas as quickly as possible, the justice of the peace, Theron Ward, refused.

"It's just another homicide as far as I'm concerned," said the justice of the peace.  

O'Donnell lost his temper, "Go fuck yourself!  We're leaving.  Get the hell out of the way."

With that, the Secret Service and all the President's men pushed forward.  The medical examiner, the justice of the peace, and several Dallas policemen were forcibly shoved out of the way by Secret Service agents who were ready to draw their guns, if necessary.  Jackie Kennedy was close by, her hand softly guiding the President's bronze casket as it was removed from the hospital and placed in the hearse which raced en route to Love Field and Air Force One.

When the entourage arrived at Air Force One, they found a plane completely encircled by heavily armed Secret Service agents.  The plane’s powerful engines were running, ready to lift off at any moment and push Dallas and everything that happened there behind them as quickly as possible.  Fearing the unknown and suspecting a possible conspiracy to decapitate the entire government, the shades were drawn down over the windows throughout the aircraft in order to protect against any further possible attacks.  On the plane was Lyndon Johnson, soon-to-be sworn in as the 36th President of the United States, and awaiting the arrival of Jackie and the body of the deceased President.  The Secret Service and the President's aides struggled with the extraordinarily heavy casket as they maneuvered it up the steps to Air Foce One and into a holding area in the back of the plane cleared out by removing two rows of seats.

Jackie remained with President Kennedy's casket from almost the entire time she boarded Air Force One until it landed at Andrews Air Force Base near Washington.  The only exception was prior to the plane taking off from Dallas when she stood -- still wearing her blood-stained pink Chanel dress -- on one side of Lyndon Johnson as he took the oath of office as the new President, his hand resting on JFK's book of Catholic missals, which had been found in JFK's private cabin by aides rummaging for a Bible for the oath-taking ceremony.

For four hours, Air Force One flew in a dark cloud of sadness towards the nation's capital.  New President Johnson made numerous phone calls, including calls to the slain President's mother, Rose, and brother, the Attorney General Bobby Kennedy.  In flight, LBJ also hastily made preparations for meetings upon landing in Washington.  In the back of the plane, a silent vigil was held around John F. Kennedy's casket by Jackie and the President's aides, who were so close to Kennedy that they were often referred to as the "Irish Mafia".

President Kennedy's personal physician, Admiral George Burkley, suggested to Jackie that JFK's body be taken to Bethesda Naval Hospital upon arrival in Washington for the autopsy.  Jackie showed great compassion herself on that terrible flight.  She insisted that Bill Greer drive the vehicle carrying the President's casket to Bethesda.  Greer was grief-stricken and apologetic during the flight because he had been driving JFK's limousine in Dallas and made no attempt to speed up or take evasive maneuvers when shots were first fired.  Greer felt partly responsible for President Kennedy's death and Jackie wanted to show her confidence and appreciation in his service to her late husband.

When Air Force One arrived at Andrews Air Force Base after dark on November 22, 1963, Bobby Kennedy rushed on to the plane and directly to Jackie to comfort his sister-in-law, blowing past President Johnson and snubbing LBJ as the new President attempted to offer his condolences to JFK’s devastated brother.  The dead President's aides and Secret Service detail rebuffed a military casket team who arrived to remove the President's coffin from the plane.  Instead they formed a personal honor guard and handled Kennedy’s casket themselves, awkwardly placing it on to a catering lift and lowering it to the ground so that they could place it in a waiting Navy ambulance from Bethesda.  Jackie, with her husband's blood still clearly visible on her bare legs, and Bobby climbed into the back of the ambulance with JFK's casket and drove straight to Bethesda as President Johnson made a statement for the millions of Americans watching the arrival ceremony on live television.

The motorcade transporting the body of President John F. Kennedy from Andrews Air Force Base to Bethesda Naval Hospital for his autopsy arrived right around the same time that President Lyndon Johnson's helicopter landed on the South Lawn of the White House from Andrews so that the new President could take the reins of the government of a nation in shock.  As trusted members of his "Irish Mafia" helped to remove Kennedy's casket from the Navy ambulance, Jackie Kennedy and RFK headed upstairs at Bethesda where private suites were set aside for their comfort and friends and family were waiting to help with the comforting.

Across town, the new President prepared to charge into his new duties.  During the flight home from Dallas, Lyndon Johnson had summoned Cabinet members, diplomats, Members of Congress, current White House aides, former White House aides, and anybody else who had any inkling of what powered the Executive Branch, to meet him at the White House upon his arrival for consultation, directions, and mutual support.  Upon arriving at the White House, Johnson briefly spent a moment by himself in the Oval Office before leaving and walking with aides to the neighboring Old Executive Office Building.  LBJ didn't feel right with immediately setting up shop in the Oval Office just hours after President Kennedy's death.  Instead, Johnson decided to use his Vice Presidential office in the OEOB for the meetings he planned on holding that night.

Before those meetings began, however, President Johnson took a moment for a brief pause in his frenetic assumption of the Presidency.  Requesting a few minutes of privacy, LBJ sat down at his desk in the OEOB and wrote two short letters which became the first pieces of correspondence of the Johnson Administration -- letters which the young recipients couldn't even read yet:

"Dear John--It will be many years before you understand fully what a great man your father was.  His loss is a deep personal tragedy for all of us, but I wanted you particularly to know that I share your grief--You can always be proud of him.  Affectionately, Lyndon Johnson" "Dearest Caroline--Your father's death has been a great tragedy for the Nation, as well as for you at this time.  He was a wise and devoted man.  You can always be proud of what he did for his country.  Affectionately, Lyndon Johnson"

The casket containing the father of those two young children had been wheeled into the hallways leading to Bethesda Naval Hospital's morgue.  Despite the fact that this was being done in a completely secure, private, inner sanctum of the famed military hospital, the casket was that of a man who had started the day as Commander-in-Chief of the United States Military.  Out of respect and duty, an honor guard lifted the coffin from a gurney and carried it through the halls and into the brightly-lit, antiseptic autopsy room where doctors prepared to examine the lifeless body of the 35th President of the United States.

When President Kennedy's casket was opened, it became readily apparent that the hard work of Vernon O'Neal and the nurses at Parkland Hospital in Dallas to protect the inside of the expensive coffin was unsuccessful.  The makeshift bandage which had been carefully wrapped around Kennedy's head did not prevent seepage after all.  Blood soaked through the sheets which made up the "bandage" and the inner lining of Kennedy's ornate casket was obviously damaged.  It was a surreal, eerie sight in the autopsy room as John F. Kennedy was removed from his coffin and placed on the stainless steel autopsy table at Bethesda.  The 35th President was naked and seemed to be in remarkably good physical condition for a 46-year-old man who was known to suffer from serious health problems.  Most shocking for those in the room during the autopsy, however, was the fact that this seemingly young and vital President who had inspired a new generation was now very much dead with a massive gunshot wound to the head that exposed the part of his brain still contained within it and left the top of his skull jaggedly disfigured with missing pieces of bone and flesh.  Kennedy's eyes were fixed open, staring vacantly into space with dilated pupils that could no longer envision ambitious goals for his nation.  The mouth which formed his famous words, framed his most inspirational messages, and spoke that unmistakable Boston accent now hung open, forever silenced and permanently paralyzed in a final expression which seemed to mirror the mood of the entire country:  a combination of shock, pain, horror, and perplexity. 

The pathologists who performed John F. Kennedy’s autopsy finished their work shortly after midnight on November 23, 1963.  Photographs and drawings were taken of Kennedy’s body during the autopsy, and when the autopsy was finished, morticians from one of the capital’s finest funeral parlors arrived on the scene.  A team from Gawler’s Funeral Home entered the autopsy room at Bethesda Naval Hospital to embalm the President and attempt to make him presentable.  The casket that brought JFK back to Washington from Dallas would not work.  While the casket from O’Neal’s was a beauty from the exterior, the interior was a mess.  All of the safeguards attempted by O’Neal and the Parkland nurses in Dallas were not quite enough to protect the inside of the Handley Brittania from the gruesome wound that had killed the President.

The question many might have is why would there be such a need to make John F. Kennedy’s remains presentable when JFK was obviously in no condition to be viewed?  Why couldn’t they simply close that beautiful Handley Brittania casket that was purchased in Dallas and bury Kennedy in the container which carried him back to Washington?  

At the orders of Jackie Kennedy, aides went to the Library of Congress in the hours after President Kennedy’s body returned to Washington, D.C. and researched the historic, iconic, epic state funeral of Abraham Lincoln – the first American President to be assassinated, almost exactly a century earlier.  Kennedy’s funeral preparations would be steeped in tradition and either perfectly replicate or closely mirror the funerals of other fallen American Presidents including Lincoln, James Garfield, William McKinley, Warren G. Harding, and Franklin D. Roosevelt.  As information about these past Presidential funerals (along with the funerals of famous Congressional and military leaders throughout United States history) was brought forward, one constant was apparent:  in almost every case, the fallen leader was viewed by a grieving public in an open casket display.  For many Americans, streaming past the open casket of a former President or American military hero was an opportunity to pay tribute, look upon the face of a fallen hero, and find closure in another storied chapter of American History.

Yet, as much as Jackie wished to replicate Lincoln’s funeral, she was dismayed at the thought of an open casket for John F. Kennedy.  Jackie had seen what the assassin’s bullet had done to her husband.  As Kennedy’s motorcade raced to Parkland Memorial Hospital in Dallas minutes after the shooting, Jackie wouldn’t allow doctors and Secret Service agents to remove President Kennedy’s body from the limousine until an agent covered Kennedy’s head with his suit jacket, shielded the President from the view of others, and preserved some of the dignity that was so important to the Kennedy image.  As the morticians from Gawler’s worked on JFK, Jackie once again expressed her wish that her husband’s coffin would be closed.  Bobby Kennedy, however, didn’t think that the decision was up to the family.  RFK felt strongly that JFK belonged to the people, too, and that the American people would want their opportunity to say goodbye.

Following his assassination in 1865, Abraham Lincoln’s remains embarked on an epic, 20-day-long train trip that retraced the route he took to Washington in 1861 prior to his Inauguration.  In major cities throughout the Northeast and Upper Midwest, hundreds of thousands of Americans turned out to pay their respects to their “martyred” President.  Embalming was a relatively newly-mastered American art at the time of Lincoln’s death – a technique which had been much-improved upon and much-practiced during the Civil War when young men frequently died far from home and families looked to preserve their fallen loved ones so that they could have one last look at them before they were laid to rest.  

However, even today, embalming can’t guarantee perfect preservation for an extended amount of time.  In 1865, there were definitely some worries about Lincoln’s extended, national funeral.  After all, the warm weather of spring had started throughout the United States and Lincoln would be honored with open casket viewings by Americans in well over a dozen cities between Washington, D.C. and Springfield, Illinois in the twenty days after his death.  Some people worried whether it was appropriate to view Lincoln’s corpse at all considering the fact that he had died from a gunshot wound to the head.  Lincoln’s wound was far less devastating visually than Kennedy’s.  The bullet that killed Lincoln had entered his brain, but did not exit Lincoln’s skull.  The only damage visible was a black eye from bruising of the facial bones close to where John Wilkes Booth’s bullet had lodged in Lincoln’s brain.  Undertakers accompanied Lincoln’s body on the funeral train back to Springfield and as time passed, they certainly became necessary.  Lincoln’s face blackened considerably by the time his remains reached Springfield – partly from the facial bruising, partly from the dirt and dust of twenty days exposure to the elements, but also partly due to the beginning stages of decomposition.  At some cities, the undertakers who accompanied Lincoln home would brush his face with chalk to make him more presentable to the citizens who came to pay their respects.  In a few cities, it also became necessary to surround Lincoln’s casket with fragrant flowers and spray the area with heavy perfumes for reasons that I’m sure aren’t too difficult to surmise.

John F. Kennedy was not going to be viewed by the public for twenty days in over a dozen cities throughout the country and the funeral industry had made even larger strides in the century since Lincoln’s death.  However, JFK was severely disfigured by the bullet that killed him.  Unlike in Lincoln’s case, the bullet that tore through Kennedy’s skull and brain also exited his head, causing major damage that would be difficult for even the most-skilled mortician to disguise.  The team from Gawler’s were perhaps the best in the business, but it wasn’t simply a matter of brushing some chalk or cosmetic makeup on Kennedy’s face to cover up some bruising or minor discoloration.  Entire pieces of JFK’s skull were missing and parts of the President’s head needed to be synthetically reconstructed.  The morticians also had to pack his skull with cotton and Plaster of Paris in the place of his brain -- parts of which were removed during the autopsy and other parts of which were in countless places including (but not limited to) the fabric of his wife’s Pink Chanel dress, the windshields of the motorcycle cops escorting his motorcade in Dallas, the backseat and trunk of his limousine, and all over Dealey Plaza in Dallas.

The mortuary team from Gawler’s took over three hours to work on President Kennedy, clean him up, dress him (in a bluish-gray pinstriped suit with a white shirt, black shoes, and blue tie with dots), place him in a brand-new casket and put a rosary in the hands of the nation’s only Catholic President.  A little after 4:00 AM, President Kennedy, his widow and Bobby Kennedy arrived at the White House after a solemn motorcade through the darkened streets of Washington.  In the first nod to Lincoln’s funeral, JFK’s flag-draped casket was carried by an honor guard into the East Room of the White House and placed on a replica of the black catafalque that Lincoln’s coffin once rested on.  After Kennedy’s casket was situated in the East Room, Jackie Kennedy and Bobby Kennedy entered the room and asked that the lid be opened.  Both Jackie and Bobby were exhausted and emotionally drained, and Jackie was still wearing the Pink Chanel dress that she had cradled her dying husband’s head in.  The front of her dress was smeared with the dried blood and brain matter of the President.  As ghastly as the sight was, Jackie continually refused to change, noting that she wanted everyone to see what “they” did to her husband.  As the casket lid was opened, Jackie snipped a lock of her husband’s hair with scissors and turned to Bobby, saying, “It isn’t Jack” – once again alluding to her wish that the casket remain closed.

Jackie left the East Room and headed upstairs to the White House Residence to finally change her clothes and attempt to sleep.  In the East Room, Bobby remained near his brother’s coffin with a couple of friends, close aides, and Secretary of Defense Robert McNamara.  The stoic RFK – always much tougher than his older brother – was a wreck by this point, after attempting to stay strong and supportive throughout the night for his stunned sister-in-law.  Bobby had not yet looked at JFK’s remains.  To finally make the decision about whether or not JFK would have an open casket, RFK took a look at his brother’s face.  When he saw Jack in the coffin, RFK immediately agreed with Jackie’s feelings, “She’s right.  Close it.”  While the team from Gawler’s had done an admirable job of repairing the massive trauma to the President’s head, JFK was virtually unrecognizable as the man he once was.  To those who saw his body as the casket was briefly open in the East Room early that morning, it was apparent that the American people wouldn’t want to remember their fallen President in that way – as if he were a wax museum knock-off of the real John F. Kennedy.  The funeral ceremonies over the next few days would all be closed casket and the nation would remember JFK as the young, lively, inspirational President that he had been for so many Americans.

••• Since the assassination of John F. Kennedy in 1963, there have been so many unanswered questions and theories and allegations.  Many are the result of sloppy work on behalf of the government in the hours following the shooting, during the autopsy, after the autopsy, and in the failure to protect the suspected assassin, Lee Harvey Oswald, as he was being transferred to a new facility to face charges of murdering President Kennedy and Dallas Police Office J.D. Tippit.  Evidence has been lost or misplaced, and some records remain sealed until 2017 – 54 years after the assassination and 100 years after JFK’s birth.

There is one aspect of this story that received some closure, however, and that is what happened to JFK’s original casket – the expensive Handley Brittania coffin that Clint Hill ordered from Vernon O’Neal’s Funeral Home in Dallas in the hectic minutes after President Kennedy was pronounced dead.

After JFK’s autopsy at Bethesda Naval Hospital and the hard work by the mortuary team from Gawler’s Funeral Home to make him presentable, President Kennedy couldn’t be placed back in the beautiful but bloodstained bronze coffin that had carried him home from Texas.  Gawler’s had brought with them to Bethesda another elegant casket fit for a President – a $3,160 Marsellus 710 coffin that was crafted from “hand-rubbed, five-hundred-year-old African mahogany”.  It was that flag-draped casket from Gawler’s that John F. Kennedy, Jr. saluted and Americans saw being laid to rest in Arlington National Cemetery.

The history of Vernon O’Neal’s casket did not end that night at Bethesda when President Kennedy was transferred to a different coffin.  Gawler’s Funeral Home took possession of JFK’s original casket after they placed him in the undamaged casket that their mortuary team had brought to Bethesda Naval Hospital following Kennedy’s autopsy.  Whether it was as a morbid souvenir or simply due to confusion about what to do with it, Gawler’s stored JFK’s original coffin in a warehouse in Washington, D.C.  In January 1964, less than two months after JFK’s burial, Vernon O’Neal submitted a bill to the federal government for $3,995 for the casket that Secret Service Agent Clint Hill ordered in Dallas and JFK was transported to Washington in.                 

The government felt that O’Neal’s bill was “excessive”, particularly since he had merely delivered the casket to Parkland Hospital in Dallas and had not performed any other funeral services such as embalming, chapel services or transportation of mourners.  O’Neal lowered the price by $500, but the government still had an issue with the $3,495 price tag.  What Vernon O’Neal actually wanted was the casket itself.  O’Neal had received offers of $100,000 by parties interested in collecting and displaying the casket as a unique relic of the slain President.  For the Kennedy Family – still reeling from the assassination and its aftermath – the last thing they wanted was a spectacle surrounding a bloodstained coffin that JFK had spent just a few hours in.  At the family’s urging, the federal government paid O’Neal (he received $3,160 for his services on November 22, 1963) and the General Services Administration took possession of the object in 1965.

In September 1965, the House of Representatives passed a bill which required the government to preserve any objects related to the Kennedy Assassination which might contain evidentiary value.  Several days later, Representative Earle Cabell from Texas sent a letter to Attorney General Nicholas Katzenbach (who had replaced Bobby Kennedy at the Justice Department a year earlier).  In his letter, Congressman Cabell suggested that the casket had no value for anyone other than “the morbidly curious”.  Since the Kennedy Family “did not see fit to use this particular casket in the ultimate interment of the body”, Cabell felt that it was “surplus” material owned and controlled by the federal government.  To shut down those who might be “morbidly curious”, Cabell recommended that the casket “be declared the proper property of the USA and, as such and in keeping with the best interest of the country, be destroyed.”

The Kennedy Family agreed with Congressman Cabell’s sentiments and Attorney General Katzenbach ensured everyone that the casket had no evidentiary value, no good reason for display or storage, and that it was the property that the government had the right to dispose of in whichever way it sought fit.  On February 18, 1966, several members of the Air Force picked the casket up from a secure building at the National Archives just a few blocks from the White House.  The casket was placed in an Air Force truck and transported to Andrews Air Force Base – the very place that the casket had originally landed in Washington with President Kennedy inside of it less than three years earlier.  At Andrews, the Air Force team from the 93rd Air Terminal Squadron loaded the coffin on to a C130 transport plane.

To dispose of the casket, the Air Force had decided to take it to a place that JFK had once considered being buried:  the Atlantic Ocean.  Kennedy loved the sea and was said to have considered being buried at sea when he died.  Of course, we know that Kennedy was buried at Arlington National Cemetery instead, but for many reasons, the Atlantic Ocean was the perfect place for the disposal of the casket that had brought him back to Washington following his assassination.

The Air Force wanted to ensure the integrity of the casket and not allow it to become a souvenir by someone who happened to come across it floating in the ocean or washing up on the shore.  The C130 flew about 100 miles east of Washington, D.C. and descended to about 500 feet above the water.  Before taking off, the Air Force had drilled over 40 holes into the casket and filled it with three 80-pound sandbags.  It was also secured inside of a wooden crate and sealed shut in a manner so that it wouldn’t break apart upon hitting the water.  

At approximately 10:00 AM, the C130’s tail hatch was opened and the casket was pushed out of the aircraft.  Parachutes softened its fall and the coffin began to sink instantly.  The airplane circled the drop zone for about 20 minutes to make sure that the coffin didn’t resurface, but they had no reason to worry.  The Air Force had chosen an area of the Atlantic that saw very little air or sea traffic, and the casket settled in about 9,000 feet of water.  The Kennedy Family was relieved that they no longer had to worry about a bloody casket going on display somewhere for the “morbidly curious”.

[anabdaniels]

Flufftober 2023 with Agent Whiskey - Day 19- Showering

Paring: Agent Whiskey x Female Reader

Word counting: 850

Rating: Teen and up audiences.

Warning: Mentions of sex and post-partum blues.

A/N: This can be read as the part one of Cowboytober Day 19 (NSFW).

When the whole adrenaline of the moment had passed and you were finally home again, you were finally starting to believe that your baby was there and you couldn't be happier about how much your little girl looked like her father.

The pregnancy was hard, for sure, but the post-partum was certainly being a bit harder. You expected to get out of the hospital as if nothing had happened and take care of your baby without any problems, you just didn’t count on the unexpected c-section you had to go through when you stopped to have progress on your labor.

If you thought that Jack was an amazing husband before, now your admiration and appreciation for him just doubled. He was amazing with you during pregnancy and during the labor wasn’t different. Jack stood by your side during the whole process, giving you all the support you could ever ask for. Once you were cleared to go home, Jack got even more in the nurse mood.

The baby was already fed and asleep on her snoo, so you decided to take a shower, a decent one since the hospital shower wasn’t the best in the world. When you told that to Jack, obviously he didn’t allow you to move a finger to get everything you would need and accompanied you to the bathroom.

“Well, I think you can take a break from your caring services.” You said softly and proceeded to start to take off your nightgown, unable to contain a soft pain sound when you tried to lift your arms and felt a pinch on your c-section “Damn.” You mumbled quietly, moving your arms down.

“Honey, what’s necessary for you to take it easy?” Jack shook his head and approached you “Let me help you.”

“No.” you refused without flinching “There’s no way I’m getting naked in front of you.” You could see the totally confused expression on Jack’s face.

“I’m not following, sweetheart.” He admitted with a frown.

“Jack, have you forgotten that I gave birth two days ago through a c-section?” You raised one eyebrow.

“No, I haven’t. I just ain’t understanding what one thing had to do with the other.” His clueless expression didn’t let you doubt that he really wasn’t following.

“I’m looking horrible now. I imagine none of us want to ruin our future sex life.” You frowned slightly when he seemed even more confused after your explanation.

“Let me get this straight. Are you assuming that in the distant future, I’ll not feel attracted to you just because of a few body changes? That’s it?” he couldn’t disguise his disbelief while questioning it, making you wonder that maybe your assumptions truly were unfounded.

“Well, when you point it like that…” you tilted your head to the side, still pondering about it. Jack sighed and approached you, holding your face between his hands.

“You’re focusing on the wrong part of all this. Honeybee, you just gave birth to our little daughter, you gave me a family and you really think that I’d bother about such a basic thing like the mark of the c-section?” despite his disbelief about your assumptions, Jack sounded calmer than ever, caressing your cheeks gently. He imagined that you were going through a lot on your mind and that your hormones were all crazy, he’d never get mad with you in such a delicate moment, especially because of a simple thing like that.

“I thought you would.” You admitted slightly ashamed for having considered such a horrible thing about him.

“Well, then be aware that I’d never do that.” He said calmly and kissed your forehead “Now c’mon, I know you’re craving for a shower.”

“I had no idea how much I am.” You admitted with a soft expression “That shower in the hospital worked more like a dropper.”

“I’ll have to agree with you.” He chuckled, helping you get rid of your clothes and get into the shower.

You couldn’t hold back a satisfied sigh once the warm water ran over your hair and skin, making your whole body relax to the point you didn’t even remember about the remaining discomforts of the post-partum. Your usual soap never smelled better than at that moment, when you were finally enjoying a proper shower. Even with all your excitement, the soft pinch on your surgery reminded you that you had to take it easy, and then you just looked at your cowboy nurse, who was patiently waiting for you, resting on the sink.

“I’ll need a little hand here.” You said calmly and Jack approached you, already rolling up the sleeves of his shirt.

“Tell me, darling.” He waited for your answer with a soft smile.

“You’ll have to rub my back and, since you’re already here, you could wash my hair too.” You said calmly, relaxing even more when you felt his hands on your skin.

“Anything else, ma’am?” Jack looked at you with a playful smile, raising one eyebrow.

“Well, I’m quite hungry, so I’ll accept a little lunch once we get done here.”

Flufftober masterlist

[pinkposies]

Hello, love! I hope you're doing well. I'd like to request a Kol Mikealson x reader where the reader is sick so she has to go get her blood drawn and she askes Kol to go with her. Whatever you want to happen but with just a little bit of Kol taking care of a reader who refuses to let herself be sick.

Sick

a/n requests are open!

warnings: mention of needles, blood being drawn, and reader neglecting her basic needs.

parings Kol Mikaelson x fem!reader

Your head felt as though it had a weight on it. When attempting to breathe through your nose, there are difficulties. Your hand stroked the side of the bed that was normally occupied by your lover, Kol.

You dragged yourself out of bed despite having pains all throughout your body. You sighed when you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Your hair was matted and stuck to your clammy forehead on strands.

Your lips were chapped and your eyes had a burning sensation, "K-kol?" Your throat felt scratchy as you talked, and your voice sounded unsteady.

"Darling, are you feeling well?" Kol spoke with a hint of concern in his voice.

You cleared your throat, "Yeah, I’m fine I just need some aspirin."

Kol stroked the back of your head and murmured, "You need to be in bed. You're heating up." He sounded like a worried mother.

"No."  You swatted his hand away and said, "No, I'm good. I need to prepare for an exam today."

Kol glared at you, hating your stubbornness as always. You pushed yourself continuously until you were unable to. Considering how committed you are to your academics, you may even forget about your basic requirements. "There is no need to debate this. Lay down right now." He spoke firmly, giving no space for argument.

"But K-" Your vision began to blur as you attempted to argue, "Kol something's wrong," you whimpered. You leaned against the dresser, feeling lightheaded.

Kol pulled you into him with his hands around your waist and commanded, "Love, tell me what's wrong." He awaited a response.

Your mouth opened and closed as unconsciousness overcame you. Kol felt your body go limp against his and his concern peaked immediately, "Shit."

When your eyes first opened, bright lights blinded you and kept doing so until your eyes adjusted. "Darling, you're finally awake," Kol exclaimed to her from behind, his arms around her waist.

"Where are we?" You said, scooting closer to him.

Kol massaged your arm "The hospital. Your blood is about to be drawn for a test." He explained when he noticed a hint of panic in her eyes.

Soon after, the nurse entered with a tray filled with medical supplies "You're awake. How do you feel, hun?" The elder woman enquired as she prepared.

"A little drowsy."

She wrapped A tourniquet around your upper arm. The nurse began to use her finger to locate a vein, "You slept for some time. You had your boyfriend over here worried." She spoke with a smile.

A tube with a needle was brought out by the nurse after donning gloves. " It'll be a short prick, doll," she assured as she cleaned the area with a disinfectant wipe. Even though her words didn't calm your fears.

"It will be fast, dear."  Kol noticed you tensing up as the needle approached and murmured in your ear. As she put the needle in, you hissed and squeezed his hand. Kol ran his other hand over your hair.

"See quick and easy."

The nurse took out the needle once there was enough blood in the tube. Then applied a bandage and cotton to the open cut, saying, "I'll be back with the results."

You felt Kol nuzzle his head in the crook of your neck. You turned around in his arm, lifting his face up. You saw his eyes were bloodshot as veins under his eyes, "Kol, your face." You whispered.

He attempted to cover his face, but you stopped him by holding him tenderly "Don't hide, it's beautiful. Would you like blo-"

He interrupted you and said, "No, not while you're sick." He inhaled deeply as the veins started to fade.

The nurse returned after a brief period of silence, saying, "Now the test indicate you merely have the flu." As she walked in.

"Why did she collapse then?"

When the nurse handed you the test results, she remarked, "She must have been undernourished. When was the last time you ate a complete meal?" She prompted you.

"Roughly two days ago."

"That's why she passed out and her getting sick enhanced everything," The nurse shook her head somberly. maintaining eye contact Kol, she stated "Now, make sure she stays hydrated while at home. Avoid junk food and rest."

"You heard the nurse, darling, you need to get some rest."

"No, Kol. I must take that exam. You objected and made a feeble attempt to push past him.

You were tossed over Kol's shoulder as he rolled his eyes. He moved over to your shared bed and set you down gently. "No, eat your soup and we'll watch Supernatural for the rest of the day," he said as he drew the covers over your body and tucked you in. The he sat on your side of the bed.

"Fine, but you must compel my professor to give me another chance," you grumbled. You opened your mouth as Kol served you the soup.

"Don’t worry, love just relax."

[lukin08]

Up In The Air Chapter 6

Kristanna Modern AU

Rated T

WC 2815

Summary: Tired of her nomad lifestyle, traveling nurse Anna Arendelle on a whim picks Pensacola Florida as her new town to try find a sense of home. Meanwhile, Navy Pilot Kristoff Bjorgman has accepted a dream position at the Naval station in the same town. After a chance encounter goes south, the two of them find their lives entwined, with neither of them all that happy about it!

Also Available on AO3

Previous Chapter

“Oh, it’s you.”

Anna rolled her eyes at the sound of Kristoff’s voice as he entered the elevator.  She looked down ruefully at her cup of coffee she just had to get from the basement cafeteria and now she was stuck with him.  Glancing over once the doors closed, she saw how Kristoff was now standing there stoically, not a stitch out of place with his eyes fixed straight ahead at the door.

She glared at him.  “Didn’t know that was a proper address in the military.  Seems a little disrespectful if you ask me.”

“I didn’t ask,” Kristoff responded unemotionally.  “And where I’m from Nurse Arendelle, respect is earned.”

Anna let out a sharp laugh. “That is so rich coming from you.” 

Kristoff turned then tilted his head to look at Anna, his eyes narrowed.  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I don’t I have any respect to earn from a liar.”  Anna copied what Kristoff had done, turning to face the door and refusing to look at him.

“…what?”  

The elevator stopped and opened.  Anna lifted her head up as she took a step out.  She almost didn’t believe she had the nerve to say that to him. It was out of her mouth before she even processed what she was saying.  As soon as she was out, she took off to avoid any additional conversation with Kristoff.

“Hey.”    

Anna picked up the pace, hoping Kristoff would take the hint.  He was going to drive her insane working on this committee with her.  She had already quit three times.  At least Anna did in front of Sue and Camilla and each time they pushed her out of the maternity ward with Sue threatening to march her up to her meeting and stand on guard outside the room herself if it ensured Anna couldn’t leave. 

It was just that he was so infuriating; sitting there at the meetings quietly until she spoke.  It felt like every time Anna had an idea, Kristoff was there to challenge her or offer a counter idea.  Anna called it his internal switch turning on to annoy her.  It didn’t help that the rest of the committee didn’t seem to notice.  They were all smitten with the fly boy.  It certainly wasn’t for his charm, but all because he could fly a big hunk of metal.  Why would anyone care about that?  

The only silver lining was Anna loved what the committee was doing.  The hospital had a large children’s wing that was being expanded over the next few years.  With the added space, the group Anna was assigned to was exploring new ideas to lift the spirits of the children who were there and help with some planning of rooms and a common area in the extension.  Unfortunately, Kristoff was part of that group as well as the hospital sponsorship team at the NAS base.  No matter where she turned, Anna couldn’t get away from him. 

“Hey,” Kristoff said again, catching up to Anna.  She was walking as fast down the hall as she could without trying to attract any attention and he didn’t even seem to be putting any effort into his gate.

She glowered up at him suspiciously.  “What do you want Captain America?”

“Captain what?  …Oh, would you stop?”  Now it was Kristoff’s turn to roll his eyes.  “Why did you call me a liar?”

“Because you are.” 

“No, I’m serious. Why do you think that?” Kristoff’s tone was surprisingly serious.

“As if you don’t know.”  Anna shook her head.  “I’m from the area.  It’s my uncle’s bar,” she said with a mocking tone.  “I swear you Navy jerks are all the same.”

“That’s-“

“And while we’re at it,” Anna cut him off.  She stopped in her tracks, turning to face Kristoff directly and pointing her finger at him.  “Stop challenging me every chance you get in the meetings.  It’s getting old.”

Kristoff stopped and met her stance, crossing his arms with a smug look on his face.  “You do the same thing.”

“Do not!”

“Whatever you say firecracker.”

“Don’t call me that.”

He rolled his eyes again.  “Fine, nurse Arendelle.”  His voice was dripping with condensation.

“Ugh, don’t call me that either.  You know I hate that.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Would you stop!”

Kristoff let out a loud sigh.  “Anyway, are you done?’

“Excuse me?”

Kristoff started walking again towards the conference room.  Anna felt compelled to keep up with him.  He glanced down at her. “Are you done or do you have any more to say? If you’re going to insult me, you might as well get it all out.”

“I wasn’t insulting you.  I was describing you.”

Kristoff reacted with a slight upturn in his lips as he reached for the door and held it open for Anna.  Then he looked directly at her as she walked by and she found herself unable to look away.  He leaned forward and quietly spoke so only she could hear him. “Call me what you want, I don’t care.  But I didn’t lie to you.”

He walked away and sat at the opposite side of the conference table, not saying another word to her the entire meeting.

**********

Several weeks went by without any more direct conversations with Kristoff.  Anna tried not to think too much about what Kristoff had said, but she’d only be lying to herself if she didn’t admit she wasn’t at least a little curious about what he meant when he said he didn’t lie to her.  Not that Anna was going to give him the satisfaction of asking.  She could imagine the satisfied look on his face if she asked him to clarify what he said.  She hoped it was eating at Kristoff that she hadn’t brought it up. That thought alone was enough to keep her from asking.

They eventually fell back into their back and forth at the meetings, throwing barbs whenever the chance arose.  It was as if Anna couldn’t help herself.  Although she was always aware to cut anything off before it got too heated.  Kristoff seemed to have the same understanding, the only comment ever coming from the group was the head of the committee calling it a lively discussion.

She couldn’t fault him for much else.  All through the spring and into the summer, Kristoff was nothing but professional with everything.  Annoyingly so.  Although Anna did suspect he once messed with an appointment time he scheduled with their sub group making her suspiciously 30 minutes later to the meeting than the rest of the team.  She swore she saw a hint of a smirk when he thanked her for deciding to join the group as she walked in.

In July, Anna turned down an invitation to sit in the VIP area for the Blue Angels air show at Pensacola Beach.  The thought of sitting there with everyone oohing and awing over Kristoff almost turned her stomach.  “Suit yourself,” was all he said when she turned down the ticket and moved on to the next committee person.  

She didn’t realize how big of a deal it was until the morning of the show.  She couldn’t get anywhere around.  It felt like the entire city was shut down.  Anna saw videos of people at the beach, faces dotting every square inch of sand all looking like they were having an amazing time at what was described as the biggest party of the year. She realized she could have been right down there in the middle of all the fun. In the end, Anna broke down and watched some of the higher jet formations that were visible from her backyard.  She wondered which one Kristoff was in and how much of a thrill it must be to be in the jets.

**********

Anna got to the outdoor tent fifteen minutes late, not expecting the crowds she’d have to navigate around.  The fall afternoon sun felt good on her face after spending the entire day in the hospital.  

“Sorry I’m late!” Anna exclaimed as she rushed inside the booth. “I didn’t realize it would be so packed!”

“Not a problem,” her co-worker said, giving her an understanding smile.  “The crowds here today are crazy.”

It was amazing how many people the Blue Angels brought in.  People came from other states to see the Homecoming show.  It was the last show of the season and the Naval base opened its doors for two days of shows followed by concerts and food the evening of the second night.  As part of their community outreach, the hospital had an outdoor booth along with other local vendors.  

They went through everything at the booth including all the handouts and giveaways as Anna took over her time to staff the tent.  She was looking forward to getting to talk to people about the hospital and its resources for the community.

An hour later, Kristoff sauntered up to the tent.

“Everything going OK?" he asked as he walked up.

“All great,” Anna responded flatly.  “A little warning on the crowds would have been nice.  I was fifteen minutes late!”

“I know,” Kristoff said with a grin.  “I came over earlier and saw you weren’t here.  I tried to tell you at our last meeting.  But if I remember correctly, you cut me off and said you didn’t need anything from me. How’d that work out for you?” 

All Anna could see was her reflection from the aviators Kristoff was wearing.  She had a sudden urge to knock them off his smug face so she could look him square in the eyes and tell him how she really felt about him. Instead, she looked down at the table.  “I may not have completely thought that one out.”

As if on cue, Kristoff pulled the aviators off.  Anna glanced up and was instantly taken back to the bar almost a year before, lost in those eyes that for a time had carried so much kindness that night.  She had to take a moment to compose herself and remind herself how much of a pain in the ass he’d been over the year.  Anna started to give him the rundown of all the traffic they had and how the tent was working great.  Kristoff nodded along then offered to bring her some food, which she declined.

“One more thing,” Kristoff said before he went to leave.  “When you go home tonight, take the exit in the back right corner of the parking lot.  No one uses it and it will get you out to the main road with no waiting.  You’ll avoid all the traffic.”

Anna gave Kristoff a suspicious smile. “Why Captain America, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you were actually being nice to me.”

Kristoff slowly lifted his aviators, putting them back on and setting his face.  “Don’t worry.  I was just acting.”

“Like a child?” Anna put her hands on her hips narrowing her eyes at Kristoff.  

That mischievous grin was back.  Kristoff took a step back. “Bye firecracker.  Don’t get into too much trouble tonight. Don’t want you to lose your key fob again.”

“Definitely like a child,” Anna said under her breath as she watched Kristoff walk away.

Anna was busy the rest of the afternoon and into the evening.  It was getting time to wrap up and Anna could not wait to walk around for a bit.  She had her sights set on some of the food trucks and she was definitely leaving with one of those giant bags of kettle corn that were bigger than her.

“Um, excuse me?”

Anna looked up and saw a brunette woman, near her age standing with a hospital pamphlet in her hand.  She was smiling but looked somewhat apprehensive.

“Yes, is there something I could assist you with?” Anna smiled over at the women.

“Yes, I hope? My husband and I transferred here recently, and I was looking for a doctor.  I saw the booth and thought maybe you could help.” She went on to describe to Anna what she was looking for.

“Say no more,” Anna responded.  “I don’t have anything here on the practice, but Dr. Intilli is the best in the area.”  Anna wrote down the information and handed it over to the woman. 

“You really recommend this doctor?”

Anna could sense the woman’s nervousness.  “Absolutely.  I can vouch for him personally.  I work there part time.  Everyone at the practice is amazing.”

The woman smiled and Anna could see the relief on her face.  “Thank you.  I don’t know a lot of people yet and I wasn’t comfortable asking anyone and… well, just thank you.”

“Of course!  I’m glad I could help.”

“Ok, then.  Maybe I’ll see you there.”  The woman smiled more confidently and began to walk away.  “Thanks again.”

“Any time.”

**********

Kristoff stood at attention, his eyes set forward into a fixed stare at the hanger wall slightly above the group of people around him.  It was hard to believe it was already a year since he had gone through this ceremony for the first time.  The homecoming show marked the team’s last show of the year and the official transition over to the new team for the next year’s season.

His thoughts drifted back to the previous year and the time leading up to the last show.  Kristoff had moved down to Pensacola months before the Homecoming show. The whole time was a whirlwind, learning as much as he could about the team and sticking to the pilot he was taking over for like glue.  But he wasn’t officially a team member until the evening after the show.  That night was the first time he wore the official Blue Angels flight suit as the solo pilot for jet number 6.

They were here again in a private ceremony only for the crew to transition the team.  Once the team for the new year was finalized, Boss Kesselring had informed Kristoff he would be taking over as the lead solo, moving to jet 5.  It was a position that garnered him two more years with the Blue Angels instead of one and an honor he never expected.  Flying as part of the solos instead of the four other planes that flew in the tight formations was already a dream.  Getting to lead the solos for the next two years was beyond anything he could have imagined.

It was bittersweet seeing the crew that was leaving now in their tan uniforms as they were recognized for the last time.  Then he watched as other crew members, from maintenance to medical to announcers were called and stepped into their roles for the next year.  When it was the jet’s turn, Kristoff walked up to Boss Kesselring when called, instep with the other returning pilots.  They then turned to accept the incoming pilots, donned in the blue flight suits for the first time.

It was cheers and hugs after that, and the new team took their first picture together in front of one of the jets in the hanger.

The group was hanging out and starting to disperse when Kristoff heard a familiar voice. 

“Suits looking good, right?”  Sven was walking up, pointing at himself with a big grin on his face.

“Don’t get cocky,” Kristoff said, feigning seriousness.

“Just enjoying the moment.  You could have given me a heads up about this, you know.  I was scared shitless when we got called here tonight.”

“Nope.  You get to experience the same level of fear as everyone else.”

They embraced, patting each other on the back. “Congrats man,” Kristoff said.  “You ready for all this?”

Sven shook his head still in disbelief.  “It still doesn’t feel real.  But tonight… this is beyond amazing.  The jet has my name on it.  My name!  How’d they even get that done so quick?”

“You’ll be amazed how quickly things get done around here. Now for the important question.  Are you ready to take orders from me for the next two years? The Solos are intense.”

Sven waived his hand.  “I’ve been taking orders from you since the Academy.  This is nothing.”

They started walking towards the locker room to get changed.  Sven swung his arm around Kristoff’s shoulder.  “We’re finally getting to fly together! After all these years…” Sven trailed off, taking in a deep breath.

Sven didn’t need to say anything.  Kristoff felt all the same emotions. “I know bud.  I know.”

It was all Sven needed, a huge smile beaming at Kristoff again.  “Let’s get changed and go find Nicki.  We’ve got something we want to tell you.”

“Or you could tell me now so we can leave.”

“What’s the fun in that?  And did you not hear the WE in that sentence?  Come on, she’s over by the bands.”

“Fine,” Kristoff relented.  “But it better be good.”

"It's better than good, buddy."

[chaos-grimlin]

Obsessed with your marked series!!! Please make another part😭⭐️🫶

Im so glad you like it!! Sorry if my updates are slow!! But heres chapter 18!

Intro:No one truly knows what happened that night in Woodsboro, California. All the public knows was that two teenage boys, Billy Loomis and Stu Macher, went crazy. That the boys killed with no motive, that it was a case of crazy and peer pressure. Sidney Prescott, the "girlfriend" of Billy Loomis,Y/n L/n, the girl both boys were deeply obsessed with, and Gale weathers, a news reporter, where 3 of 5 witnesses that were willing to talk and tell their sides of the story to the public while Dewy Riley, the deputy sheriff of woodsboro, and tennager Randy Meeks refused to talk to law enforcements at the time. All the stories told to law enforcement seem to differ from person to person, but...in this tale, we will focus on Y/n, the obsessions, side of the story...

Marked (Poly! Billy Loomis and Stu macher x reader)

Word count:1002

Chapter 18- I promise

^^3rd Person P.O.V^^^

8 minutes....

8 minutes was all it took for Randy to get to the hospital..

Randy didnt care if he broke the speed limit, he didnt care... He just wanted to get to her..

She was all that was on his mind as he gripped the steering wheel to his old car.

Randy had never felt so worried about someone other then his parents. Yet, with her, he felt so scared that the twisted fucker that did that to her would find her again.

Randy pushed down on the gas petal a little more as he kept his eyes fixated on the road. He went over the speed limit by 5.

Soon, Randy saw the eerie looking hospital looming in the distance.

He slowed down slightly as he pulled into the hospital parking lot and quickly parked his car.

Randy yanked the seatbelt out of its buckle and quickly opened the door and stumbled out of the car.

He slammed the door shut and ran to the hospital doors.

Randy busted into the hospital, looking like a mess, but he didn't care that his hair was a mess and he didn't care that his shirt looked like it was on backwards.

"Um... Can i help you sir?" A confused voice called out, echoing in the empty lobby.

Randy jumped slightly before looking behind him, seeing a nurse looking at him.

The lady raised one of her eyebrows as she clutched her clipbored tightly.

"Um.. Yeah im here to see Y/n L/n" Randy said, frantically scratching the back of his neck.

"Visitation hours are over young man" the nurse said with a cocky tone.

"Ma'am please.. She just went through a tragic accident and... She called me crying, wanting me with her" Randy protested.

The nurse rolled her eyes. "Im sorry sir" "no no!please just let me see her, shes scared out of her mind" Randy said, remebering how scared Y/n sounded over the phone.

"What ever, go, i dont care my shifts over anyway, at least you breaking the rules will be on Darcy and not me" the nurse said throwing her hands up slightly before walking off.

Randy didnt say anything as he turned on his heels and started power walking down the halls.

He took lefts and rights, counting down all the doors till he made it to Y/ns.

Randy didn't bother to knock, he just slowly pushed the door open. "Y/n" Randy called out in a gentle whisper.

Y/n lifted her head up and looked at Randy.

Randy felt his heart break as he saw her...she looked rough... But it was what he expected..

"Randy" Y/n choked out as she stood up on shakey legs.

Pain rushed through her and she fell back down onto the thin mattress of the hospital bed.

Randy quickly made his way to her side.

Y/n looked at Randy as she took in deep breaths.

"Im here. No one will hurt you." Randy whispered in a soothing voice as he ran his fingers through her dirty hair.

Y/n looked into Randy's eyes, feeling herself calm down the longer she looked at him.

"Im sorry" she muttered.

Randys brows knitted togeather as he pushed her hair out from infront of her eyes.

"Why?" He asked. "I woke you up just because...im scared.." y/n said, looking away from him.

"Hey. Listen, id walk across just to be here with you when you needed me" Randy said, letting a soft smile grace his features

Y/n slowly pulled her legs up slightly, feeling a pulsating pain flood through her hip.

Y/n sucked air in through her teeth as her face contorted with pain.

"Dont move to much" Randy said. (Stating the obvious Randy my boi)

"I... I was moving so you could sit with me" Y/n whispered.

"Oh". And at that, Randy slowly sat down beside Y/n.

Minutes passed, and neither of the two teenagers said a word.

"Im scared Randy.." Y/n said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Im scared they will find me...." She said, seeing those foul memories play through her mind.

"Dont be, ill protect you" he wrapped his arm around her waist, slowly moving closer to her.

"Promise?" "Promise"

Randy leanded down slightly and placed a tender kiss on Y/ns forehead, being mindful of the bandaged cuts on her face.

Y/n leaned her head on Randy's shoulder. Maybe, just maybe she could trust Randy. Maybe he would protect her.

"Randy?"

"Hm?"

"Can you stay here with me tonight?"

Randy wasn't surprised when those words left Y/ns lips.

All Randy did was nod to her....

~~~~Small time skip because its 10:36 for meee~~~~

Randy soon found himself laying beside Y/n, who was already fast asleep, in the small bed.

Randy looked down at Y/n, watching her chest gently rise and fall as she took in short breaths.

Randy slowly wrapped his arms around her torso and slowly pulled her close to him, trying not to wake her or hurt her even more.

Randy kissed Y/ns cheek as he held her.

No noise filled the room other then the faint beeping of the heart monitors in the other rooms and the sound of heels clanking on the tiles outside.

It was almost peaceful to Randy.

Randy wished he was holding Y/n on her bed rather then in a hospital bed that was barley big enough to fit the two.

He grabbed the thin blanket they covered Y/n from her hips down and slowly pulled it up, allowing the blanket to come up just slightly past her elbows.

"I promise ill protect you. You won't get hurt as long as im around, and that, my darling, is a promise that I will keep"

[mamasturn]

henny talk pairing: ab x black!fem!oc content: a reunion between two ex's where the hennessy does the talking. warning: suggestive language. alcohol consumption. heavy with dialogue which is so different for me lollll. 18+ steam warning for language and suggestive themes. i had no clue where i was going with this but i wound up liking it anyway hehe song: henny talks by rosemarie tags: @neeville@dulcewrites @crash-and-cure@cvpidspearl @blackwriter48 @wonderprince @venus2eros @adoreyouusugar @sunshinetoday1 @cosmic-parker @kaitaesupremacy @librarydame @louderfortheback

There were many things she was taught not to do, but chose to disobey. Such as reopening a door to that could possibly lead to heartache once again, after four months of no contact. How foolish she was.

She was taught not to stare. That it was a rude practice. But, her eyes were trained on his hands. They were wrapped around the glass of dark liquor he’d been nursing since he arrived. A droplet of perspiration seeped through his fingers and slid down the back of his hand, over the scar he got from piercing the skin with a nail. That same droplet traveled down his wrist which was adorned with the gold bracelet she gifted him years prior. 

It was shocking to her that he’d kept it. When his pictures would come up on televisions and in magazines, she’d see how the sun hit it perfectly. She’d never admit it, but it made her heart flutter.  He kept a part of her close to him. 

She lifted her eyes slowly and pushed her shoulders back. 

“Something on your mind?” he asked her, ignoring the zing within the pits of his stomach. He wasn’t naive to the way she kept her gaze on him heavily. However, it did make him a bit nervous. 

She shook her head and pulled her drink towards her body. Her white nails caressed the side of the glass as she palmed it and brought it to her lips. She wrapped her blood stained lips around the black straw, an innocent look in her eyes as she did so.

He squirmed. 

"Just wondering wondering why you called me. There's nothing to talk about." She was stern in her tone. Her lips were pressed into a straight line and her eyes held an emotion he couldn't identify. He should've felt defeated by the walls she threw up, but not when he still possessed the weapons necessary to tear them down.

A smug smile crept along his pink lips. His teeth peeked from behind the flesh. He threw a hand over the back of the chair next to him and brought the slippery glass to his lips. His throat bobbed as the liquid slid down with ease.

"If there was nothing to talk about, why are you here?"

There it was. That smart ass mouth that made the depths of her soul rumble with disdain. Her nostrils flared like a bull preparing to attack, which she was fully prepared to do. To lay it all out on the ragged wooden table in front of them, to give the bystanders a show, to let him know she need not be fucked with.

"Who doesn't like free drinks?" Was her rebuttal. Her finger flicked the straw out of her cup onto his lap. She knocked the beverage down with ease and refused to show how the burning was brutal. Down the sides of her mouth, remnants of it slid. Down the side of her neck, passing the tattoo there, and toward the valley of her breasts. His jaw clenched.

"That's all you agreed to come for? Free drinks?" He signalled for the waitress to bring out another round. If it was a game she wanted to play, he'd gladly participate.

She hummed. "Free drinks. Wings. Kinda hard to pass by."

"Baby, you're not foolin' a damn soul. What I give you you can give yourself. So, let's cut the shit and get to the point--I want you." The playful tone was gone and was replaced by one with dominance. It made her ears perk up.

She leaned over the table in interest. Her next glass was gone as quickly as it came and the after affects of it were heavy. Her body felt warm and tingly, her eyelids were low, and she felt the control over her mouth loosening my the minutes. "You claimed to want me all that time ago. Guess what you don't have? Me."

He tsk'd lowly and took another hearty sip of his drink. "I beg to differ. You wouldn't be sitting here if I didn't have you wrapped around my finger, darlin'." He was a cocky bastard. She would hate to admit he was right. He had her wrapped around his finger tighter than ribbons in a young girl's hair. If he was to tell her to jump, she'd ask how high before he got the chance to say anything else

She sat back. "I beg to differ, AB. If you acted right to begin with, we wouldn't be in the position we're in now." The position they were in? Separated for 121 days. No contact; no texts, no calls, no letters, no emails. They hadn't seen each other face to face over that four month span because of his ridiculous behavior. He may have had her wrapped around his finger but he once had her wrapped around him, and that privilege left when he did 121 days prior.

He cleared his throat and sat up straight. His knees knocked against her crossed legs. The heel of her stilettos grazed his calf with every movement he made. He shivered. The days when she'd do it to tease him flooded his memory. His pants suddenly felt tighter than they were before he left the house.

"What position? I'm practically on my knees for you. Isn't that what you wanted? I'm at your mercy, baby. I want you as long as you'll have me, and I think that's what you want."

Her brown eyes bore into his blue once. Mischief danced behind his orbs. She squinted and pursed her lips with a slow nod. "Yeah? You know what, you're right. You are at my mercy and what I say goes. So, maybe, just maybe if you fuck me the way I know you know how to, we can come to a consensus." Again, her blood red lips curled around the edge of her glass.

Goodness.

She was challenging him. The same way he used to challenge her. What he said went; no if, and, or buts about it. But now, she had full control over the situation and planned to use it to her advantage. Sure, she knew he wanted her, and she'd be a liar to say she didn't want him back. Nothing was to progress without having a little bit of fun playing the game, though. The game he taught her so well.

She watched as he crumbled at her statement. The dominance began to melt as her strong gaze tired his advances. His chest heaved visibly, his hands clenched around his glass, and his knee bounced rapidly against hers. His neck deepened in color and lust glassed over his blue eyes. She couldn't help but toss him a dimpled smile.

He dropped a few dollars on the table and nodded toward the exit, "Let's go."

Henny spoke, and it always spoke well.

[foxymoxynoona]

Hello, Foxy!

How about a drabble with Pippa and Jungkook where they’ve been so busy with the kids they barely have time for each other, so they have to sneak in some sexy time? I bet it would be hilarious 😂

Story: Sugar Fairy Characters: Bunny hybrid Jungkook & Ruby leopard hybrid Pippa Words: 2017 CW: quick sex, creampie, fingering, language, references to postpartum and nursing, threat of interruption, tired parents

“I swear to god she was in the vent,” Jungkook said as he stumbled into the kitchen, a yawn lacing his voice. “I turned my back for a second and the bed was empty and–”

Pippa glanced over her shoulder, eyes wide as she admitted, “Dae said he saw eyes in the vent! That’s why he was screaming!”

“No! Fuck. Fuck! I swear when I looked in the room again, there she was back in her bed, and I was standing in the doorway, there’s no way she snuck past me.”

“Did you check the vent–”

“Yes and the screws were tight–”

“Well then,” Pippa said, opinion flipping. She resumed washing the dishes in the sink. “There’s no way our two year old screwed it back into place behind herself without you hearing it.”

“No… probably not…” Jungkook didn’t look wholly convinced. “Were you able to calm Dae down all right?” 

“Yes, but I had to shine a light in the vent and show him it’s fine.” That wasn’t what he meant and she knew that. Pippa had expected her body to stop reacting so strongly anytime one of her children screamed or cried, but that hadn’t happened yet. The doctor had suggested once she stopped nursing, her hormones and physiological maternal response would calm down, but she’d stopped nursing Nayoung six months ago and still her body went into full alert at each cry. Adrenaline pumping, heart racing, tears welling up behind her own eyes. 

Well, that wasn’t so long ago, maybe her body was still in the throes of hormonally rebalancing. Or maybe she was just always going to be jumpy about her kids’ distress. That wasn’t so bad a thing, except that it really did deplete her. By the time she calmed a child from a tantrum, she felt like she’d been through a gauntlet herself. Jungkook managed the tantrums much better, as long as the origination of the tantrum wasn’t something that already had him frustrated –like a child dragging their feet to put on their school uniform, or refusing the dinner they had specifically asked for, or not wanting to clean their room despite whines about missing toys. Then Pippa was the one with more patience and–

Jungkook lifted the hair from her neck and pressed a kiss there, other hand sliding around her waist. 

Her response was to yawn and laugh at herself and ask, “Did you check the kids’ backpacks are ready for the morning?”

“Not yet.”

“Ok, I’ll do it after I finish the–”

“No, Pip, I’ll do it.” He drew a deep breath and slowly let it out. 

“I know,” she agreed without him even saying anything more. They were busy, so so so busy. Working, children, house upkeep, family, it was so much going on all the time. The boys had started taekwondo and soccer and Zoë had volleyball and guitar lessons and Nayoung had a baby swim class and a baby tumbling class. Next year she would start nursery school and maybe things would feel simpler then, because Jungkook and Pippa wouldn’t have to set their schedules so separately. They could actually work at the same time then. They could actually be free at the same time then. They could spend more time together, maybe even alone time together.

His lips nipped at the base of her neck again, arms circling tighter. It made it harder to wash but she didn’t shake him off, just mused, 

“You could dry.”

“We have a drying mat.”

“I know but…” She didn’t have a good argument. There wasn’t a point to it. It was just hard to turn off the constant motion once the kids were asleep at night –which wasn’t a guarantee anyway, someone was bound to wake up in a couple of hours and crawl into bed with Jungkook and Pippa. They woke up with at least Nayoung between them most mornings. No crib had ever been able to contain that girl so they’d gone ahead and graduated her to a small bed anyway.

Right now there was nothing but clothing between them as Jungkook’s hands began to pinch at her hips.

“Pippa….”

“If you threaten to put a baby in me right now I’m going to scream.”

His chuckle was warm against her neck as he reminded, “You’re on the strongest birth control known to hybrids.” Her hands kept moving, determined to clear the last dishes out of the sink quickly. She nodded. He kissed up to her ear and her whole body shuddered.

“Someone could need something any minute.”

“Ya, they can wait.”

“We won’t enjoy it if there’s a child screaming in the background.”

“Ya, so we better hurry.”

“If I turn around I’m going to see the piles of laundry on the kitchen table–”

“Want me to fuck you on them?”

“If you even think of dirtying all that laundry, I’ll–”

“Then don’t turn around,” he suggested, pressing into her more fully. His hand pawed at her stomach, sliding up beneath her shirt to slip under her bra. His other hand crept down the front of her pants.

“Oh…”

He chuckled again, the noise warm and close to her cheek. Her hands stilled as his fingers slid down into her panties, right down to dance around her bud, no time wasted. His name was a sigh from her tongue as she deliberated angling her hips forward so he could slide his fingers more and then back so he could grind that hardon in a better place than the cleft of her ass through sweatpants. Forward and back, rocking herself on his palm as his fingers nudged further into her. She felt surrounded by him. She stared at the reflection in the window, pitch black outside, Jungkook’s dark hair falling across his eyes, his ears tickling hers as they draped across her head and face, tangled through her hair. 

“We’d better hurry,” she murmured. “Someone might call any minute…”

“Turn the water off,” he pointed out. The last bowl was still in the sink, the water running over her hands, because her brain was far more interested in what his fingers were doing at her nipple and her clit than in scrubbing peanut butter or gochujang from any more surfaces.

It was a lie that she was worried about someone interrupting. Yes, of course it often happened, they knew from experience that time was precious and the more they wanted their time together, the more desperate they were, the more likely it was to be disturbed. And oh was she desperate right now. She thought he must be too. No heats, no ruts, just a pair of mates who didn’t get to crash together nearly as often as they wanted lately. 

She wasn’t worried about interruption, she was desperate to have him inside. Sometimes the energy just wasn’t there, but right now it was, and the longer he left her waiting–

“Hurry, Koo.”

“I got you, I got you,” he mumbled under his breath, nose at the back of her nose, hands pulling her sweatpants down now that she was slick with want. Not all the way though, just enough he could push into her. With her legs still trapped together, he sank deep. 

“How fast do you want it, Pip?” he panted at her neck, his movements painfully restrained. 

“Don’t break my hips. The counter hurts.”

Immediately he wrapped his arms around her, cushioning the edge of the counter with his arms. It pushed her over the sink more and lifted her ass more and basically kept her perfectly positioned. 

“That’s…” she trailed off, words lost at his steady stroke into her.

“Good? Bad?”

“So good,” she assured him. “Why don’t we do this every day? It feels so good I don’t even care about the dirty bowl…”

He chuckled and teased, “You’re still talking? It’s not good enough. I can fuck harder.”

“I know you can but make me sweat it. We never get to take our time.”

“Ya…” He held off, pressed to her and into her but slow and steady so she felt every inch of him sliding in and out. 

She wanted it slow like that, slow and full and stubbornly steady. She wanted it to last forever. She wanted to challenge him not to cum until she said so, which she wouldn’t do until he was begging for release. She wanted back all the passion and insanity and filthy need that had marked the early weeks, months, arguably even years of their relationship. Not that the passion was gone but the time and energy were in short supply.

But they both heard it at the same time. Her chest still tingled at the slightest chirp, but she could tell he heard it too, the way his ears lifted from where they’d been draped across her head, practically blindfolding her.

“Fuck,” he mumbled.

“Don’t stop yet–”

“No, I’m not stopping,” he assured her. “Just listen to me right now,” he insisted. “Rub your clit. Feel me–”

“You don’t have to coach me, just fuck me!” she laughed. Her laughter turned to a yelp as he picked up the pace, steady again but faster, half time to the circle of her finger around her clit. The thud of his hips hitting her ass practically echoed in the kitchen. She managed to catch one of his ears in her mouth and sucked the tip, which made his hips stutter. She liked to throw his rhythm off like that. It made him seem needy and desperate and she liked it. 

She liked it so much she came pretty quickly, just as he finished the slow, deep strokes of his own orgasm. The blood rushed in her ears, though not quite enough to drown out that one of their children was working themself into a cry. But slowly enough, thank fuck, that they could stand there for a moment, still connected and gasping for breath.

“I better get her,” Pippa said, swallowing, forehead resting against the cool counter.

“No, you finish the bowl, I’ll rinse off and get her.”

“I don’t want her to get worked up–”

“She can wait a minute, I’ll get her.”

He slipped from her, took a step away, then thought better of it and spun back to grab her arms and pull her into a kiss. 

“Sorry it was rushed. Next time I want to take my time with you.”

“Maybe your mom can stay with the kids when I have my next heat…”

His eyes lit up. They hadn’t done that since before Nayoung was born. Now that she was six months done with nursing though, Pippa’s heat could come any time, and probably strong.

“You’ll probably be pretty needy,” he mused, no doubt recalling what her first heat had been like once she’d weaned the twins. She started to respond but he suddenly held his hand up. She listened and heard what he did: silence. “Ah, damn, I didn’t have to rush after all.”

“Well now you can take that laundry up on your way.”

“I don’t know, my arms and legs are noodles right now… I’m out of practice…”

“Go,” she giggled. His hand ran down her tail, affectionately pinching the end, and off he went to haul the laundry up, humming. 

Pippa finished the bowl and decided, maybe it was ok to just go to bed now. There would always be more dishes, more laundry, more lunches to make and backpacks to back and whatever else, but time was precious and she and Jungkook needed to enjoy each other and sleep every chance they got.

Also she was really leaking a lot of cum.

“Just how full did you leave me?” she whined as she entered the bedroom. “This seems like a lot…” She trailed off, discovering he had set the laundry down and face-planted on the bed. As she smiled, he began to snore. 

A lot then.

She just shoved the laundry back into the basket and went to rush her bedtime routine so she could curl up next to Jungkook and sleep. 

[madaboutmunson]

Cryptic Cupid - Part 4 (Robin's POV)

Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 5

Sequel to Raspberry Riddle

So this is set in a government-operated hospital after the events of season 4 but everyone is alive

Each part has a different POV, Robin, Steve, or Eddie.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

When Robin finally landed home, her hands still laden with gifts, she was all set to make a beeline to the fridge for a good old-fashioned American soda, but as she stepped through the door, something caught her eye, or rather the sole of her shoe. She opened and read the handwritten letter waiting for her on the doormat and rushed to dial the number.

"Hey, I er just got back. Is everything ok? Are you going over there?"

"Hey sweetheart, yeah, was just wonderin' if you wanted a ride over?" Wayne's voice sounds out over the line. His voice wasn't usually raging rapids of excitement, it was very much a lazy river, but today it had lost its usual soothing quality, "We're usually there at the same times. It'll save you a bit of cash, and selfishly, we won't worry so much about you travellin’ back alone."

Robin tries to lift the mood with her own pep, "That would be amazing, thank you. See you in twenty?" She enthuses and quickly runs to get changed out of her travel clothes and waits for Wayne to arrive.

He's there precisely on time, but unlike Steve, he doesn't wait in the car. Instead, Wayne knocks on the door and introduces himself to her Mom, explaining, "I know I sure wouldn't like some ol' guy picking up my kid randomly."

"We've heard all about you. We're happy to hear Eddie is finally on the mend." Robin’s mom says kindly.

Wayne nods with a smile of appreciation, "Speakin' o' which, we better get going before he notices the time" Wayne laughs, but Robin notices the laugh is one you reserve for bad jokes that you don't want to laugh at, but you do to make everyone at ease.

Once they get in the car and buckle in, Robin is straight on the case, "Ok, so what’s been happened since I've been gone?"

"You want the good news or bad news first?" Wayne offers her a choice.

"Good first, please. I'm already dangling treacherously over a pit of dread right now. At least let me clamber out a little." Robin says without thinking, it must be something to do with sitting in the passenger seat that brings out her inner drama queen.

"I'm sorry, sugar. I didn’ wanna dump this on you. I just…I wanted it to come from me in a safe environment rather than you getting blindsided by it, is all. Eddie can be a force to be reckoned with when he's like this." Wayne sighs remorsefully.

"What happened to Eddie? Is he ok? Did he come back differently?" A million scenarios run through Robin's head. She liked and cared about Eddie, obviously. She wanted him to be well, but her insides were constricting at the thought that the unstoppable force of this potentially unpleasant Eddie had already destroyed Steve.

"Good news first, right?" Wayne's fingers release and then wrap back around the steering wheel. "Steve is learnin’ new things, I won’t steal his thunder by tellin’ you before he can, though, and he’s still looking after himself well. Eddie's getting stronger. He can walk and talk great now. ‘Cept he stubbornly refuses to do much of either dependin’ on his mood."

"Is that the bad news?" Robin asked hopefully.

"Partially. He got to a mirror before the Psychologist wanted him to. She had more work to do with him first, she said. She obviously knew what she was talkin' about. The rest of us were completely blind to it because we were just so glad he was alive and back with us, you know? What was a scar on his face, right? Nothin’."  Wayne sighs, "Steve tried to tell him as much. That no one was gonna care about a scar, but Eddie did care ‘bout it, and he, unfortunately, directed all his frustration with his face at Steve and the nurse there at the time. Just verbally, but you know words can be just as brutal."

Robin sat quietly for a while. She had felt the same. Happy that Eddie was back, so what the hell did a mark on his face matter? But this wasn't really about them. They'd all looked over it. This was about how the world saw Eddie, and now the superficial people of the world had another thing to throw at him.

"Steve tried his best, Robin, but Eddie has dug his boots in. Steve doesn't need to go through that every day, I told him as much, but he won't go on home. I love Eddie with every fibre of my being, but he's grindin’ Steve down…But I think Steve is gonna feel a lot better now you're back, and if you wanna visit him, and I'm not working, and I shouldn't be for most of the visiting hours now, just call me, ok? Steve could really do with a friend around now. I always pop my head in to check in on him, but Steve only wants to talk about Eddie, and that gets Eddie pissed at me. So…" Wayne trails off rather than repeating himself.

Robin wonders how much Wayne knows about the Steve and Eddie situation and then, in turn, wonders if that's why this has blown up so big.

"How long since he looked in the mirror?" She asks tentatively.

"’bout a week", Wayne answers solemnly, then taps the wheel a few times, "but don't worry about Eddie, ok? I got that covered. He'll cave into the band visiting again soon enough. They've got some pact or something the little one is always ranting about under the door. It's Steve that needs his people. 'cept he won't ask for it o' course, the kids came by, but I think he puts up a front for them. Bless that boy.” Wayne half smiles as he focuses on the road ahead. “Where are his folks? Around town, I hear nothing but good things, but I seen nothing of ‘em." Wayne takes a breath, "Sorry, Robin. I don't normally talk this much, Just I been sitting mostly in silence for about a week. I don't know how well you know Eddie, but it ain't what I'm used to. I'm usually tired of talkin’ or bein’ talked at, you know?"

Robin smiles and pats him on the shoulder, "Don't worry, I get it. I’ll speak to Steve, but I doubt he'll want to leave. His parents, I wouldn't hold your breath about them showing up. They're hardly around for Steve at all and haven't been for years." She scowls, thinking about them.

"They got a good kid like that, and they don't spend time with him? He'll be gone before they know it." Wayne says with confusion. That last part Robin knows rings deep in Wayne's heart. That's why he's here every day. 

"It's always obvious to everyone else who bothers to get to know them, isn't it?" Robin says with a fond smile.

"What's that now?" Wayne asks.

"How good souled they both are? They couldn't look more worlds apart and have different childhoods, yet there is something so intrinsically the same about Steve and Eddie. The way they take care of people, how they both can't see how wonderful they are, how they can talk for hours about the things they care about and most importantly, what a pair of dinguses they can be."

Wayne laughs out loud at that, "Dinguses? Now that's a new one on me, but I think I understand it from your tone."

“When you said Eddie is grinding Steve down, what do you mean? Are they arguing every day?” Robin wants to assess the situation she’ll be walking into before she gets there. Then, arm herself with the right things. Eddie being an asshole daily to Steve was a lot different to a hurt Eddie lashing out once.

Wayne looks forlornly at the approaching building, “No, it's not that. The boy just doesn't want to see or speak to him, and all that kid wants to do is apologise to Eddie. I tried tellin’ him all week. He ain’t got nothin’ to apologise for. It's Eddie that needs to apologise, an’ he will. He…um…he’s feelin’ self-conscious, is all. Talkin’ to people means them lookin’ at him, and he’s just equatin’ that to all sorts of nonsense right now.” Wayne sighs, “The shrink has made a lot of progress with him, and I’m followin’ her lead on it all. Eddie knows he did wrong, Robin. He just doesn't want to…actually no, that's not true, he does want to, but he feels like he shouldn't be around Steve.” Wayne huffs, “Prob’ly not explain’ myself too well.”

Robin wonders if Wayne does know about Eddie and Steve’s little crush on one another, but he doesn't know if she does, so he’s skating around the issue.

Robin and Wayne step out of the card, get their IDs checked, and get scanned and searched before being allowed in.

As they approach the hallway, Robin hands Wayne two gift bags, "For you and Eddie" She smiles.

"Well, thank you kindly, Ms Buckley" Wayne smiles as they turn into the corridor.

Robin is about to smile back when the scene before her breaks her heart. She can see Steve sitting on the floor in Eddie's doorway with his back to her, leaning against the closed door. His head occasionally moves like he's talking.

Then he must hear the echo of their footsteps down the hall, and he turns and quickly springs into action, "Robin!!!" He runs up, throws his arms around her, squeezing her tightly and spinning her around, "I thought you weren't coming until tomorrow? God, I'm so glad you're here" he embraces her again. Wayne tips his hat to them both before opening Eddie's door.

"It's just me, son. You're ok. Settle down now," Wayne says gently before locking the door behind him.

Steve pulls her into his room, a massive smile on his face and pulls her up a chair, "Tell me all about your holiday!" He says enthusiastically, but Robin can tell whilst he's pleased to see her his smile isn't entirely genuine.

“My holiday was unforgettable! Chamonix is gorgeous. There is a river that runs right through it that comes down from the glaciers, and if you stand on this bridge, there is this ice-cold breeze that comes off it. Once you are out of here and we’ve got better jobs, we have to go. You will love it there. It's beautiful and so many sports and the food, my god!” She smiles and hands him a little gift bag that he starts to open immediately, intermittently looking up and beaming at her like he can’t believe she’s here, “And speaking of beautiful things, how is love’s young dream going? It doesn't look good by the doorway scene I just stumbled into.” she says with an awkward half-smile.

Steve pulls out the t-shirt and holds it up. It's bright white, with neon bubble lettering on it saying,  My Girlfriend went to France, and all I got was this crummy t-shirt! And the silhouette of the mountains.

“We don't need to talk about that. You just got back, Rob. Tell me about the rest of your time there. Did you ski? Was it terrifying? How many croissants did you eat? Did you try frog legs? Is that even a real thing?” Steve machine guns her with questions, but Robin can see it is a vain attempt not to talk about something potentially upsetting. A facade like Wayne had said. Robin puts the t-shirt to one side, holds one of Steve’s hands between two of her own, and scoots the chair closer to him.

She looks over his face, and eventually, he meets her eyes, and she says softly, “Hey, you don’t have to do that with me, ok? We don’t do that. I don’t need to talk right now. I want to listen” and his whole body sinks slightly with a sigh as it made him smaller somehow.

“Oh, Rob, I really messed up” He looks awkwardly at her shaking his head and then casts his eyes to the floor in shame. Robin quickly rushes to move her chair again, drapes her arm around him, and hugs him into her side.

“I’m sure you haven’t messed anything up. What could have possibly gone wrong?” Steve fills her in on everything that’s happened since she’s been away.

“You should have seen his face. It looked so mad, but his eyes looked so hurt. I didn’t even think about it. I didn’t know he hadn’t seen himself, and you know, even if he had, he’s still just as beautiful, right?” Steve says in a voice close to shattering him completely, and when he calls Eddie beautiful, Robin’s heart sinks for him. “But he was right, Rob. I thought about it. I would feel like he did, and I tried to tell him that every day at the door, but he won't speak to me or look at me. I mean, it would be better than nothing if he just opened the door and yelled at me.” Steve looks down at the floor, running his fingers through his hair, “It’s almost worse than when we were waiting for him to wake up. One of the nurses caved and told me, it's not just me, though. He’s totally shut down in there. Hardly eating keeps the room in darkness. Wayne brought his guitar for him to play, but he hasn't even touched it. I would have heard it. He’ll only let Wayne or the staff in, but he’s not really speaking to them either.”

Robin examines Steve with her eyes. Wayne was right. He had been ground down to pieces of himself by this incident, “Oh Steve,” her words doused in sympathy, “Maybe it’s time to go home, huh? They must have enough data by now, and they can send someone to do the tests if they need to, right? At least at home, you know, you’ll have other things to do, other people to see, a TV and a radio” That gets a small smile from him, “You don’t need to stay here, ok?”

Steve looks at the door to his room, then back at Robin, “I know I don’t need to. I…um…” Steve pinches the bridge of his nose and runs his hand down his face, “Can I show you something?” Robin nods and waits.

Steve gets up from his chair and retrieves a book. It's about sign language. “When we argued, Eddie shoved this book at the nurse, who didn’t know whose book it was, but I did. It was Carol’s, the other nurse. Eddie signed at me one day. I didn't know what it meant, so I asked her. It was, thank you.” Steve signs at Robin, then the corners of steves mouth tug down as he tries to keep talking, “I asked if she had a book on it I could borrow so that I could communicate with Eddie more, and she said she didn't know where it was. She lied because Eddie had it.”

“Is Eddie losing his hearing?!” Robin exclaims in worry.

“No, Rob”, Steve lets the tears go, “I am. He’s been learning it for me. He must have known they'd asked me about learning, and I said I didn't want to. You know how smart he is, he must have thought I wouldn't learn it for me, but I would learn it for him.” Steve slumps back down in his chair and takes a deep breath wiping his eyes, “Open it.”

Robin takes the book at opens it, where it naturally falls because of the bookmark. First, she sees the signs for Sleep and Eat, then she notices the bookmark and takes it gently between her fingers holding it up, “Is this….” She starts, and Steve nods.

“He kept it this whole time, a whole year almost.” Steve looks at the little handmade scroll. “You know it took me ages to make that stupid thing. First, my fat fingers kept getting the matches stuck in the wrong places or to myself, and then then I tried to use a fancy calligraphy pen but got ink everywhere. I almost gave up a hundred times every time something went wrong, but then I kept thinking about how he might smile at it, solve it and jump over the ice cream counter at me.” Steve smiles fondly at the little scroll and nervously plays with his fingers. “And then I found this, and I felt like I’m so glad I didn't give up on it, you know? That I didn’t throw the towel in because I kept getting it wrong because, in the end, he really liked it, Rob. He liked it enough to keep it with him all through everything. Carol said it was one of the first things he asked for.” Robin looks closer at the scroll, seeing watermarks and dirt, “So I know I don't have to stay, and I know it’s hard here right now, but I want to stay. I just don't know what to do.” Steve takes the book back from her and places the scroll back in carefully before putting it on his bed.

Robin tries to put herself in Eddie’s shoes and piece together all the information from Steve and Wayne. Clearly, Eddie was feeling some way about how he looked. He’d see Wayne and the staff but no one else. He obviously liked Steve very much, but from what Steve said, he seemed nervous about making a move, waiting for Steve to take the next step. Wayne had said that Eddie would apologise, meaning that Eddie knows he’s messed up. Robin’s eyes move to the book again, “What about if you wrote to him?”

“What like a letter?” Steve looks a little confused.

“Hmmm, maybe, but I was thinking more like the little scroll, the riddles. The worst he can do is not reply right. It's no different from now. And…er...maybe-maybe, yeah, maybe I could make you a new tape, huh?”

“Yeah, now you bring it up, Robin, that tape….” Steve playfully grimaces at her.

“Nearly got you two kisses? You’re welcome, Dingus” Robin would never admit to Steve, well at least not sober, that the tape in question was very close to her heart. It was Robin’s falling in love tape. Just a list of songs where the music and lyrics served as high-octane fuel to the race car of infatuation. From past car discussions where Steve has been happily singing along to something, and Robin has had to tell him the horrifying backstory of the song, she knew Steve would not pick up on the lyrics, but she suspected that Eddie would. It was sneaky and underhanded, but it was clear to her from a year ago how they felt about one another. All Robin had done to their dancing around one another was change the music in the hope it might get them to meet in the middle finally.

“Uh, no! That was all me, thank you.” Steve smiles, genuinely getting caught up in their little back-and-forth argument.

Robin raises her eyebrows at him in an are you sure about that kind of way, and Steve finally laughs. She gives him another big squeeze and kisses him on the cheek, “It’s gonna be ok.”

Steve nods and gives a slight smile before moving on to his following query, “Did you come here with Wayne today?”

“Yeah, he gave me a ride, said it makes sense, seeing as we are both here the most.” Robin thinks for a minute. If Steve had information that might help Robin, he’d tell her, right? He wouldn’t hide it. “He was worried about you, you know. He said Eddie was grinding you down.”

“He was?” Steve looks at Robin with earnest surprise and then gives a half-smile, “I guess I wasn't hiding it very well. Did he say anything else?”

"Before I say anything else, are you sure about Eddie? I mean Wayne said he pretty mean to you both, and there are plenty more guys out there that aren't so…er…vicious" Robin knew Eddie was very hurt at the time, lashed out verbally, and ultimately knew he'd done wrong, but that didn't take away the fact he'd really upset Steve.

Steve huffs out a small laugh, "I agree he did want to hurt with those words, but I'm not upset because of that. I mean even when he was trying to insult me, he complimented me."

"Wait really?" Robin tries not to laugh at the thought of a red in the face enraged Eddie showering Steve with compliments.

"Yeah, he called me pretty boy!" Steve smiles fondly, "The only reason I'm ground down and upset is because I miss him. I miss being his entertainment, acting a fool to make him smile or laugh, you know?"

Robin bursts out laughing, "You have no idea how much Eddie is gonna love the fact that a previous King of High School misses being his own personal jester"

Steve laughs along with her his eyebrows raised in surprise and happiness, "I'm just as shocked as you. It was just nice, and I miss it. That's why I sit in his doorway everyday and talk to him. I just wanna hear him laugh again" Steve's smile drops a little, "I shouldn't have said it didn't matter. It clearly mattered to him."

"Wayne told me, Eddie knows what he did was wrong. He's also certain Eddie is working his way to an apology, but it sounds like he's a little stubborn, so it's a slow process" Robin rubs her hand on Steve's back in a soothing circle, "If it's any consolation, he's not let the band in either, and you know how special they are to him too."

Steve nods a few times with a small smile. Then suddenly his eyes go wide, and he clicks his fingers next to his head, "That's it!"

"That's what?" Robin says a little taken aback from the change in posture and attitude.

"You were talking about the band, and that made me think about music, and Music brought him back to me once. Maybe it can bring him back again, but I am going to need your mix tape master help. Please?" Steve clasps his hands together like he's in prayer and waits for her response.

"Sure! What do you need?" She replies enthusiastically.