#and they will have no one to blame but themselves because hunter WARNED them but oh well

[hippiegoth97]

Into the Fire: An Eddie Munson x Reader Story Pt. Five

Collage by me :)

Masterlist

Part 4

Tag List: @rafescurtainbangz @voyeurmunson @xxbimbobunnyxx @taintedcigs @mediocredreams @slowandsteddie @angel-munson @eldermayfield @munsonsbtch @babygorewhore @rattkween86 @violetpixiedust @bimbobaggins69 @purplehazed-h @morning-rituals @eddie-van-munson @msgexymunson @munsoneightysixx @impmunson @mysticalstar30 @jenniquinn @oneforthemunny @succubusmunson @ddeadly-succubus @prettyboyeddiemunson @sanctumdemunson @stalactitekilla @s6raphic @hellfirenacht @birdysaturne @ohmeg @h-ness1944 @pretendthisnameisclever @ahoyyharrington @micheledawn1975 @costellation-hunter @josephquinnsfreckles @leelei1980 @yourdailymemedelivery @spacedoutdaydreamer

Content Warning 18+ Only, Minors DNI: Swearing, drug references, angst, arguing, mentions of domestic violence, crying, smut, fingering, degradation/praise, squirting, unprotected sex, rough sex, choking, crying, anxiety, smoking

Word Count: 12.4k

Divider by @strangergraphics

Part 5.1: Y/N Henderson's Day Off

Tuesday, March 14th, 1989

"Oh, fuck! Fuck! Shit! Shit, shit, shit!" Eddie hears you shouting frantically as he wakes up this morning. His eyes pry themselves open, squinting to see what you're up to. You're putting your clothes on in a panic, clumsily rubbing deodorant under your arms and brushing your hair in a rushed manner. 

He glances at the clock, which reads 10:08am. Shit. "Oh, no. I forgot to set the alarm. I'm so sorry, baby." Eddie says sleepily, sitting up in bed to look at you.

"It’s not your fault. I should've made sure you did.” You shake your head at him, refusing to let him take the blame. “Fuck! I'm so fucking late! Mom's gonna have a cow!" You groan as you shove your extra belongings into your bag, running to the bathroom to finish getting ready. Eddie slips on some jeans, following behind you. He finds you gripping the sink nervously as you brush your teeth, meeting your eyes in the mirror. "Would you mind getting dressed, please? We have to go, like, right now." You practically bark at him with the toothbrush in your mouth.

He places his hands on your shoulders, rubbing them with care. He peers at you in the reflection, smiling warmly. "Y/N, you need to relax. It's one day. You're already late, there's no changing that. So, just take your time, 'kay? Or...if you want, we can call you in sick and you can spend the day with me." Eddie smirks, tempting you to play hooky.

"I really shouldn't, Eds. Don't you have things to do today?" You question, spitting toothpaste into the sink and rinsing your brush.

"Well, yeah. Just a couple deals, and picking up your bike. No work, though.  We could watch the other videos I rented, too." He pulls your hair to the side, gingerly kissing your neck.

"Eddie, you know I love spending time with you. I'm just worried that if I skip once for you, it might become a bad habit." You turn to face him, wrapping your arms around his neck. "It's hard enough to say no to you as it is. If you offer things like that all the time, it'll become impossible." You can't help being a bit scared of Eddie's idea. You've always been told that skipping school is one of the worst things you could do. He's already got such a hold on you, it oddly feels like you're disobeying him.

"Sweetheart, I'm not gonna derail your future with one fake sick day. I promise you, I'm not making this a habit. I wouldn't do that, because I know school is important to you. Ya know, I may be the town degenerate, but do you really think I wanna drag you down with me?" Eddie looks into your eyes meaningfully, driving home the fact that he cares about you. That he wouldn't jeopardize your grades just so he can spend time with you.

"I guess that's not a very kind thing for me to think, is it?" Your eyes fall to your feet, feeling silly about the whole thing. What's one day, really? Sure, you'll have make-up work to do, but that's easy. "Alright, I'll call in. But only this one time, I mean it!" You point a stern finger in his face. He playfully tries to bite it, but you snatch it away. You go to the phone and quickly dial the college front desk, trying your best to sound sick as you tell them you won't be in today. You're struck by a pang of guilt after the call. Mom would hate that you're doing this. You don't like being dishonest, but Eddie insists it won't kill you. You can always trust him, right?

"All set?" Eddie asks as you put the phone back on the hook. You just nod, conflicted about your feelings. He sighs. "It'll be fine, darling. I promise. Now, how about I cook you some breakfast? I make some killer French toast." He offers, gesturing toward the kitchen.

You silently walk to the small dining table, and Eddie follows behind you. He opens the fridge to retrieve some eggs, setting to work at making you both some food. There's a radio sitting on the windowsill above the sink, and he clicks it on to a rock station. His back is to you, and he’s intently waiting for you to speak. "Do you cook a lot, Eds? I never took you for a chef." You ask as he cracks some eggs open into a bowl.

"Nah, not really. I only know how to make this, and spaghetti. But I doubt you want pasta for breakfast." He replies jokingly, making you giggle.

"Definitely not. But, you also know how to make a great PB&J. Don't forget that one." You politely point out. He nods in agreement, beating the eggs with a fork.

"How many pieces of toast do you want?" He asks over his shoulder.

"Um, three should be enough." You don't exactly have much of an appetite, you're still mentally kicking yourself for taking the day off.

"Comin' right up, baby." He heats up a pan on the stove, dropping some butter into it. It sizzles and melts, and he dips the first piece of bread into the egg mix. You watch him cook, admiring how he looks from behind. He's still topless, so you stare at the muscles in his back as they move. His jeans hug his ass perfectly, the waistband of his boxers sticking out slightly. You're tempted to get up and wrap your arms around his waist, but it’s probably best to stay out of his way. You figure you can keep your hands to yourself for a few minutes, and you don't want Eddie to burn himself if you catch him by surprise.

No words come to mind for you to keep up a conversation, leaving to enjoy one another’s company in silence. You listen to the radio, letting your mind drift into daydreams about what you and Eddie might do together in the future. Long drives, going to the movies, him helping you make a character for D&D, the list goes on. You could easily spend every waking moment with him, maybe even the rest of your life. However, that's a conversation for another day. It's way too soon to discuss a long-term relationship, but you've never felt like this about anyone before.

"Drifting off again, I see. Shit, I oughta call you 'Sputnik' with how often you space out." Eddie says in your ear as he lowers your plate onto the table. You jump in your seat, your knee hitting the underside of the table. He chuckles, taking the seat across from you. "Sorry, princess. Just don't want your food to get cold. You're very cute when you're daydreaming, though."

"Thanks, Eds. And thank you for the food, it's really sweet of you." You gaze at him from the other end of the table, reaching your foot underneath it to rub against his. He smirks at you, letting your feet play below the two of you while you eat. You pick up your fork and cut into the French toast, gathering a large bite before bringing it to your lips. It's dripping in syrup, almost getting onto your shirt as you take it in your mouth. When it hits your taste buds, you can't help the slight moan you let out. The toast is perfectly buttery, and you taste cinnamon as well. Mixed with the sweet syrup, it's possibly the best breakfast you've ever had.

"What do you think?" Eddie asks, winking at you as his foot continues to battle lazily with yours.

You can't help blurting out immense praise for his cooking. "It's so fucking good, Eds! Probably the best I've ever had." You dive back in for another bite, and another, ravenously devouring your entire plate. You hope you don't look too disgusting, eating like this. But Eddie seems to take it as a compliment.

"That good, huh? I can make more if you want." He offers as you bring the final bite into your mouth.

You chew rapidly, swallowing hard. "No, this was plenty. Really good, though." You smile at him, a drip of syrup rolling down your chin.

"God, you're such a mess. C'mere." Eddie chuckles as he beckons you to him. You get out of your chair, standing beside him. He grabs your hips, bringing you down onto his lap. You instinctively put your arms around him, sitting down sideways. His face is so close to yours, you can't help the hoard of butterflies rumbling around inside you as his breath fans over you. His eyes flick to yours, then to your chin. He leans in, licking the syrup away. His tongue travels upwards to your lips, and he kisses you passionately. His grip on you tightens, and you can feel him growing hard beneath you.

Your mouths move together roughly, tongues and teeth gnashing in a battle for dominance. Eddie's just about to win the fight, when his uncle walks through the front door of the trailer. "Mornin', kiddos." Wayne calls, not noticing the position you're in. You quickly break away, trying to conceal your heavy breathing. You stay on Eddie's lap, however, the position alone isn't vulgar in itself. Although, Eddie's erection suggests otherwise. "Did ya sleep alright?" Wayne asks you. He looks tired, his shift at the plant hasn't been kind to him.

"Yes, sir! Like a log!" You say, blushing at how cheesy that sounds.

"Glad to hear it, Y/N. And please, call me Wayne. I ain't nobody special enough to be called 'sir'." Wayne chuckles, pleased to see you and Eddie cuddled up together in his kitchen. Young love is a good look on his nephew.

"Oh, okay. Wayne." You correct yourself, laying your head on Eddie's shoulder.

"How'd work go, Wayne?" Eddie asks, watching his uncle sit in his recliner to unlace his work boots.

"Ah, ya know, usual bullshit. They laid off ‘bout twenty fellas last night, claimin' a recession or some shit. They also say there'll be more by the end of the season." Wayne says sullenly, sighing. You can't help being worried about him, and you look at Eddie to see his reaction. He appears about the same, his eyes pointing down at the floor. You figure he's pondering what might happen if Wayne is let go, too.

“I can help out with money if you need it. It's the least I can do, since you took me in and all." Eddie suggests, eager to help. But Wayne's expression quickly changes from melancholy to frustration.

"Now, you listen here, boy. I've told ya once, and I'll keep tellin' ya. You don't need to do that. You got your own life to worry about, and I ain't gonna take any fuckin' charity either. I'm not on that 'ol choppin' block just yet. And even if I do end up there, I'll find another shit job just fine. I don't wanna hear another word of this, ya hear me?" He scolds his nephew good and proper, unwilling to take a single cent from him. It wouldn’t be right.

Your eyes widen, taken aback by his sudden aggravation. You can understand though, Wayne seems like a man who prides himself on being independent. He reminds you of yourself, unwilling to let others help you, even if you might need it.

Eddie nods his head, feeling guilty for even suggesting that his uncle can't do just fine on his own. It's not what he meant to do, but a man of Wayne's disposition doesn't take kindly to being treated like a charity case. "Alright, I'm sorry. I won't bring it up again." He says quietly, and you notice his eyes pricking with tears.

"You're damn right. Now, I'm goin' to bed. Try to keep the noise down, alright?" He pulls out the roll-up mattress from the corner of the room, undoing the clasps to lay it out on the floor. He snatches a blanket from the couch, laying down aggressively. He huffs, trying to get comfortable.

You glance at Eddie again, you notice he’d tensed up as Wayne spoke a moment ago. You kiss his cheek, leaving his lap. You grab the empty plates, quietly rinsing them off in the sink to be washed later. You click the radio off, letting his uncle have some quiet while he rests. You return to Eddie’s side, rubbing his shoulder. "Baby, let's go to your room, hm? You gotta get dressed." You suggest in a whisper. He stands wordlessly, the chair scraping on the floor. He begrudgingly follows you down the hall, slouching onto the bed once you're in his room again. You close the door silently, leaning against it. “Baby, what's wrong?" You ask cautiously, not wanting to upset him further.

"It's nothing. I'm fine." Eddie sniffles, sadness lacing his voice. You take a seat beside him, holding his hand in yours. He glances at your joined hands, but he won't look directly at you.

"Baby, please. I can tell what Wayne said upset you, and I understand why. Talk to me. I'm here for you." You squeeze his hand to reassure him. He clears his throat, preparing to speak.

"I just一" His voice shudders a moment, and he struggles to keep his composure. "I'm just worried about him, ya know? I know he can take care of himself, but what if he does get laid off? And what if he can't find work? We could get the electric and water shut off, or worse. We could lose our home." Frustrated tears fall from his eyes, but he continues. "But no matter how much I offer to help, he just won't take it. He's the only one in my family that wanted to take me in after Mom died and Dad ended up in prison. Nobody wanted 'Eddie, the problem child'. Wayne didn't give it a second thought. He’s taken care of me the best he can, and I just want to repay him for that. But the stubborn fucker won't let me." He finally meets your gaze, his large brown eyes glistening and red. Your chest tightens with sympathy, heartbroken to see Eddie so upset. You didn't previously know the exact circumstances of Eddie's living arrangements with his uncle, it’s apparently something Eddie kept close to the chest. You, of all people, can understand why.

"Oh, Eddie. Come here, baby." You pull him to you, hugging him tightly. He clings onto you, letting the sobs leave him once he can hide his face against your shoulder. "Darling, I promise everything will be okay. It's good that you care so much." You stroke his hair as you speak, trying to calm him down. "You don't have to worry. Like he said, he still has a job. Yes, that could change, but it's unlikely you'll end up on the street, okay? Honestly, if it came down to it, you could both come live at my house. I'm sure I'm not the only one who would welcome you into their home, either. But I'm also sure it won't be necessary." You continue to caress Eddie's hair, rocking him side to side in your arms. His sobs dissipate, his breathing steadying gradually. You feel a damp spot on your shirt from his tears, but you don't mind. All that matters is making him feel better about his worries. He’s handled yours so well, you'd made the assumption that he didn't have any of his own. You feel selfish for thinking so, but how could you know when he hadn't told you? 

He sits up, wiping his eyes with his palms. He smiles weakly at you. "Guess it was my turn to bring on the waterworks." He scoffs, sniffling again.

"It's alright, Eds. I'm glad you told me. I know that wasn't easy for you, but it brings us closer together. I want to be there for you, the way you are for me." You grab his hand again, bringing it to your lips to place a soft kiss to it. He exhales heavily, watching as you lead a trail up his arm with your mouth. You kiss his wrist, up to his forearm, stopping at his elbow. "Should I keep going?" You ask, not wanting to push him if he's not up for being touched.

"Please." He replies, barely above a whisper.

"Lay down, baby." You scoot over, allowing Eddie to rest his head on the pillow. You straddle him, lowering your head to kiss his lips. Your mouths meet with gentle tenderness, and you want to keep things light. You don't think either of you are in a particular mood for sex right now. But you're determined to comfort him with affection and intimacy. You pull away, gazing down at him. His hand cups your cheek, warming your skin. "Hey, there. You feelin’ better yet?"

"Getting there. Think I could use a few more kisses, though." He smiles, sliding his hand behind your neck to bring you back to him. The two of you keep kissing, not caring about going any further. All that matters right now is being close to one another. You slide off his lap, laying beside him as your lips continue to touch. You put your leg over his, trying to get as close to him as you can. Eddie's gone hard again, straining his jeans. You glance down at it, before looking in his eyes.

"Do you want me to..." You gesture at his crotch, but he shakes his head.

"Nah, I'm alright. You just have a strong effect on me. Maybe later?" He kisses your forehead, wrapping his arms around you. You lay your head in his chest, your breathing falling in sync with his. The two of you lay like this for a while, occasionally exchanging another kiss on the lips or neck. "What time is it, sweetheart?" Eddie eventually asks, brushing some loose hair behind your ear.

You lean over to look at the clock, surprised at how much time has passed. "11:30."

"Shit, really? I better get dressed then." Eddie pushes you gently off of him, digging through the clothes piles to find a clean shirt. He picks up a Judas Priest tee, slipping it over his head after it passes the sniff test. He pulls his hair and necklace out from under it, going to the mirror to fix his wild mane. "You wanna come along with me? You can stay here if you want, but it's kinda boring." He says as he struggles to work a brush through his tangled locks.

"Of course I'm going with you! What kind of girlfriend would I be if I didn't? Here, let me help." You hop off the bed to assist Eddie with his hair. He hands the brush over to you, and you begin running the bristles through his thick curls as gently as you can. He watches you moving behind him as you help, moaning involuntarily when the brush rubs against his scalp. You smirk at his reaction in the reflection. His cheeks go pink, and he clears his throat sheepishly as he avoids your eyes. "I like it when you blush, it's really cute." You giggle, continuing your task.

"Ow!" He grunts with gritted teeth when you hit a snag, his features scrunching in pain. Your hand rests on his shoulder to calm him.

"Sorry, baby. I'm almost done." You get through the knot, making final strokes through all of his locks to check your work. The brush swipes along easily, and you set it down on the dresser. Eddie grabs the SpeedStick from his small collection of grooming products, haphazardly rubbing it into his armpits under his shirt. He turns to you once he's ready, grabbing your waist.

"Thanks for the help, princess. I appreciate it." He gives you a quick kiss. "You ready to go?" He asks, reaching for his shoes. He slips them on, and grabs his lunchbox where he keeps his drugs.

"Yeah, in a sec." You sit down to pull your Converse onto your feet. You take a moment to tie the laces tightly, standing up again. "All set." You hold Eddie's hand in yours, eagerly heading out of his room for the front door. He grabs his layered jacket and vest, folding them over his elbow. You pull the door open, tugging Eddie along with you.

"What are you so eager for, angel? Dealing drugs isn't as flashy as it looks on TV." He smirks, curious about your motivation to head out into the cool spring air.

"I'm excited to spend the day with you, and to see what you get up to when I'm not around. It interests me." You smile gleefully, giggling again.

"You sure it has nothing to do with you being nervous about skipping classes? Your enthusiasm is a bit unnerving." He smiles awkwardly, concerned about your sudden cheerful mood.

"Maybe a little. Can you blame me? I've never done this before, and it’s kinda scary. But also thrilling." You blush, realizing how childish you sound. "Jesus, I sound like a damn teenager." You turn away from him, walking over to the van. He follows your lead, fiddling in his pockets for his cigarettes. You climb into the passenger side, sulking into the worn leather seat. Eddie slides in opposite you, pulling the creaky door shut. He's got two cigarettes in his mouth, lighting them as he puts his seat belt on. He hands one to you, and you take it out of habit.

"Hey, look at me." He says. You flick your eyes in his direction, sighing out a cloud of smoke. "I admit, it is a bit ridiculous that you've never stepped a toe out of line before. But you're not stupid, or embarrassing, or whatever you think you are right now. 'Kay?"

"Alright." You reply simply, inhaling more nicotine. You can't help enjoying the lightness that fills your head as you smoke. "You're a bad influence, you know that?" You say dumbly, smiling wide at him again.

“I would damn well hope so, sweetheart. Fuck knows you could benefit from it." He laughs, pulling away from the trailer.

"So, where to first?" You ask, hoping you don’t sound nosey about his customers.

He takes a moment to think, unsure if you'd truly want to know who he sells to in this town. "Um, well my first sale of the day is someone you know, actually. Chrissy Cunningham, well, Carver now."

You snort in disbelief. "No fuckin' way, the cheerleader?! Jeez, I never saw that one coming. I haven't really seen her around much once Jason knocked her up just before graduation. I wonder how that marriage is panning out."

"She's, um, alright. Jason works a lot at his father's company. So, she's stuck at home dealing with their rugrat all by herself." His tone is sad, and you immediately feel bad for ragging on Chrissy like that.

"I’m sorry. I didn't realize you were close with her." You finish your smoke, squashing the butt into the ashtray.

"Nah, it's fine. You couldn't have known." He shakes his head, reassuring you by placing a hand on your knee. "And I get it, they weren't exactly great people in high school. But Chrissy seems to have changed, I'm guessing having a child will do that. Though, by the sounds of it, Jason is the same fuckin' asshole today that he was back then. He doesn't even know I sell to her, I don't imagine he would take it well." His eyes are focused on the road, but there's an odd expression on his face.

"Well, I wouldn't mind saying 'hi', if that's alright. I don't wanna interfere." You offer, trying to be considerate.

"Yeah, I think she'd enjoy that, actually. Like you said, she doesn't get out much." He glances at you, a kind grin washing over his face. He appreciates you genuinely caring about what he gets up to, it makes his heart swell with admiration for you.

"Is their kid cute? Do you know its name?" You don't mean to interrogate him, but you're curious about the situation.

"I've only seen him once, but yeah, he's pretty cute. Chubby cheeks and all that. His name is JJ, which stands for Jason Jr." Eddie chuckles at that last bit, and you laugh too. "Yeah, I wish I was kidding. It's not the name she picked, but you know Jason. It's his way, or the highway." He rolls his eyes, sighing at the thought.

"What name did Chrissy want?" The more you hear about her life, the sadder you feel on her behalf.

"Thomas. After her grandfather, I think." Eddie answers.

"Oh, that's definitely a better choice. How do you know so much about her anyways?" A tone of jealousy taints your words, though you don't mean to. The air between you goes tense, both of you proceeding with caution.

"She invites me in, gives me coffee before we make the transaction. I feel bad for her, so I let her talk for a while. I don't think she has anyone else to do that with. It's nothing to worry about. She's a very dutiful wife. And I am only concerned with pursuing you." He explains, catching on to your suspicion. 

Guilt washes over you again, worried that he thinks you don't trust him. "I know, I didn't mean to insinuate anything. I'm not threatened by her, I promise."

"Good, I would hate for you to worry about me when there's no need. You already worry too much about everything else." He teases, poking your ribs. You giggle at his touch, it tickles. The atmosphere clears again, no longer tinged with the potential for a fight. A few minutes later, Eddie pulls into the driveway of the Carver household. Eddie puts the van in park, grabbing his lunchbox. "Wait here for a minute, I wanna make sure she's alright with you coming in."

"For sure. I'll be here." You lean forward to kiss him, and he happily meets you halfway. It doesn't last long, you imagine he's got a schedule to follow. He hops out, jogging to Chrissy's door. You watch his ass, admiring how perfect it is. Not just any guy has an ass like that, but Eddie isn't like any guy. You lick your lips, observing the scene of him knocking on the door, and Chrissy opening it. He gestures towards you as he speaks, and she nods to give you permission to come inside. He turns to you, waving you over.

You get out of the van, walking up to them nervously. It's been so long since you’ve interacted with her. She’s like a completely different person. Her hair is very long, falling halfway down her back. She's wearing minimal makeup, and a simple pink dress with an apron around her waist. She's so pretty, but more mature looking. You notice bags under her eyes, and bruises on her arms. She seems so tired, and you can't imagine those purple marks came from the baby.

"Y/N, it's so good to see you! How have you been?" Chrissy asks you, smiling wide despite her clear exhaustion.

"Oh, I'm doing alright. Been busy with school, and Eddie." You say meekly, her willingness to ignore the clear problems in her life sets you on edge.

"Yeah, Eddie was briefly telling me about you. I always knew you'd end up together, the way you looked at him in school was so heartbreakingly adorable!" She gushes, but you can't tell if it's genuine or not. You doubt she remembers you all that well. "Come inside, I just made a pot of coffee, and there's brownies fresh from the oven!" She makes room for you both to step inside, closing the door behind you after checking to see that nobody else is around. "Have a seat." She says, and you happily oblige.

The three of you sit at the kitchen table after Chrissy dishes out the coffee and brownies. You take a bite, moaning at how perfectly moist it is. "These are so good, Chrissy! You're a really good baker." You compliment, making her blush.

"Oh, stop! They're just Betty Crocker from the box. I'm glad you like them, though." She smiles wide again, looking like a porcelain doll. "So, Eddie, what have you got for me?" She turns to him, her expression changing. Her pupils dilate, and she fidgets with her fingers. Eddie shares a look with you, mentally telling you to keep it cool. You nod discreetly, understanding the situation.

"Do you want the usual, Chris?" He asks, and she quickly nods.

"Yes, please." She reaches in her apron pocket, pulling out some cash. Eddie digs around in his box, taking out a bag of weed, some cocaine, and some pills you don’t recognize.

"Here you go, ma'am." He says with faux professionalism, and she laughs. The money and drugs change hands, and Eddie closes the box tightly. You sit in awkward silence for a moment, unsure of what to do or say.

"So, how's Jason?" You ask, breaking the silence. Eddie throws a strange look in your direction, warning with his eyes to tread lightly. Chrissy's smile falls away for a moment, before being plastered back on a second later.

"He's great, but he’s pretty busy with work. He was lucky enough to get a job at his father's car dealership. He makes very good money. We're getting a swimming pool put in soon!" She sounds rehearsed, like Jason trained her on what to say when people ask about their life.

"That's great! I'm really happy for you." You reach a hand over to rest over hers, trying to let her know she doesn't have to pretend around you. She just glances down at it, carrying on like nothing is happening. "You guys have a kid, right?" You decide to push her, gently, in an effort to get the truth from her.

"Yes! A son, named JJ! He's sleeping now, actually. We named him after Jason." Her eyes change, but that damn creepy smile stays glued to her face.

"How sweet! I bet he's got the best features from both of you. And I'm sure you guys are the best parents." You reply, contemplating where to go from here. "Would you wanna hang out sometime? Maybe come over to my place for a girls night to catch up? I can't imagine it's too fun to be cooped up in the house all the time." You suggest in a friendly tone. Her face stiffens, the smile fading away. Eddie stares at you, slowly shaking his head in your direction.

"I appreciate the offer, Y/N. But it's impossible to find a sitter these days, and it's not so bad. I like taking care of my son, and my husband. I think you both should leave now, I'd hate to delay your sales, Eddie." She stares into your eyes, her face going red. She's gone defensive, meanwhile a single tear rolls down her cheek. You're frightened. Of her, and for her. You wish you could get her out of here, help her break away from Jason. But you can't force someone to get help when they don't want it.

You clumsily leave the table. "Alright, well, thanks for the coffee, and the brownies. See you around, Chrissy." You fumble over your words, and Eddie grabs your arm roughly.

"I'll see you next time, Chris. Take care of yourself." He says, trying to hold back his rage until you get back to the van. You walk out of the house, with Eddie pulling you down the driveway.

"Eddie, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to cause any trouble." You try to stop his pulling, to calm him down. But he keeps dragging you along.

"Get in the fucking van, Y/N. I'm not yelling in the goddamn driveway outside her house." His eyes burn intensely at you, and your stomach flips. You've really done it now. You do as he says, scrambling into your seat. He gets in as well, slamming the door shut. He turns to you, looking absolutely pissed. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" He shouts, making you flinch.

"I just felt bad for her, Eddie. She's clearly being abused by Jason. Did you know about this? Why didn't you call the police or something?" You yell back, angry that he would let something like this go unchecked.

"Oh, right! Like me, a fucking drug dealer, is gonna to call the cops. Then what happens? I get busted. Chrissy gets busted. Jason beats her even harder, and their son gets taken away. How does that shit help anybody? Hm? It's not my fucking job to save people, Y/N. I sell drugs, I'm not Superman." He fires back, but you don't want to back down.

"I'm not saying to call while you're in the middle of a fucking deal, Eddie! You could just tell them you saw her at the store with bruises or something, or told someone about it and they could've reported it. Does Wayne know? Probably not, right? Wouldn't want doing the right thing to get in the way of a fucking sale!" You snap, gasping at your own words once they’ve already left your mouth. You really shouldn’t have gone there.

His jaw falls open, his face turning beet red at your accusation. "Oh, that's real fuckin' nice, princess! Do you think I don't want to help her? Of course I do! I've thought about every possible way to do that, and how it ends. You've seen the cops in this town, they can't do shit! You think they care about domestic violence? No, they're too busy busting people like me for selling pot, and stupid kids making out at Lover's Lake. All it would do is put Chrissy in more danger, and then the whole town pities and judges her. Would you want that if you were in her shoes, Y/N? Tell me, honestly!" 

You're shocked at his rebuttal, and you regret everything you’ve said. You should know better than to cast such a low blow. You feel sick to your stomach. "No, I wouldnt." You murmur, looking down at your feet in shame.

"You're damn right! Now, can I level with you, Y/N?" He asks, trying to calm himself down. You nod apprehensively, dreading what might come next. "Okay, I'd like you to look at me, please." You slowly meet his gaze again, trying not to cry, or vomit. "Good. Now, I think it's really fucking shitty to imply that I care so little for other's well-being, that I'd let something like this keep going for the sake of making a quick buck. That's really awful of you to say, you should know me better than that." His calm tone is odd, you're worried where he's going with this. "Second, I don't think you have any business prying into other people's bullshit. Chrissy clearly doesn't want help, and nothing good can come of forcing her into telling on Jason. I want you to promise me you won't tell anyone about this, got it?" You nod again, unable to speak. "I want to hear you say it, Y/N. I mean it, I'm not fuckin' around."

"I promise. I'm sorry, Eddie, really I一" You try to explain it away, but he cuts you off.

"I know. You said that already. Look, I get it, things got heated. But I'm having a hard time getting over what you implied about me. I don't like being described as someone who takes advantage of other people."

"I didn't mean it, I just一" You attempt to speak, but he interrupts you again.

"If you didn't mean it, then why did you say it?" He asks seriously, and it’s a fair question.

"I was just shocked by the whole thing, Eddie. You didn't make it sound as bad as it is for her. And seeing her with the bruises, and that awful fake smile..." You wince, remembering how robotic Chrissy's face was. "I freaked out. I couldn't believe that she was going through something so terrible. I jumped to conclusions. I didn't consider the idea of you wanting to help, but being unable to. That was so fucking wrong of me. I honestly feel sick about it. And now I've hurt you. And I can say all the 'sorry's in the world, but that doesn't make it unsaid. I get it if I've fucked up everything, and if you don't want to keep seeing me. I earned that." You don't break down in tears like you thought you would, but a single salty drop runs down your face.

"I can't deny that I'm pretty fuckin' angry with you right now. But I have no intention of not seeing you anymore. People fight, Y/N. It's not the end of the world, or anything else. Look, let's try to move past this, alright? We have a few more stops to make. Are you alright staying with me?" He asks, holding your hands in his.

"Yeah. And again, I'm so sorry, really. You'll probably hear that fifty times today at least." You're only half-joking, but he seems to lighten up a bit at your words.

"Better make it a hundred." He quips, smiling weakly. He won't hide his mood from you, and you won't hide either. The rest of today probably won't be as lovey-dovey as you were hoping. But you'll work through it, eventually engaging in rough make-up sex when the timing's right. You quell your uneasiness. Everything will be alright, sooner or later.

Part 5.2: Hold on Loosely 

You spend the remainder of your time out with Eddie in his van, deciding to mind your own business as he finishes his sales for the day. He told you it’s okay to come along as long as you behave yourself, but you don't feel worthy of being in his company. You just sit quietly, waiting for him to return. You’ve smoked a lot of cigarettes today, wanting to at least fill the uncomfortable silence with the sound of sizzling embers and exhales of smoke clouds. After four more deals, Eddie’s finished with his business for the day. Next stop, picking up your repaired bicycle.

You space out again on the way there, wondering how long it'll take for this stupid fight to blow over. You wish it hadn't happened at all, the way you yelled in each other's faces until you turned red makes you feel queasy. It reminds you of the way Dad got into arguments with Mom all the time before he left. To see two people who claim to be in love yell and scream and say the most awful things to each other, it’s too much. You don't want to be like that, especially not with Eddie. Conflict frightens you, regardless if it can be resolved or not.

"I'll be right back." Eddie says nonchalantly. You realize you've arrived at the final stop of the outing. The wonder of getting stuck inside your own thoughts is not lost on you. You watch him retrieve your bike, sharing pleasantries with the man who you assume is the friend he told you about. He wheels the bike over to the back, placing it inside the same as he did that fateful Friday. He shuts the doors, perhaps a little too hard. The sound startles you, and you hear him curse under his breath. He climbs back into his seat, glancing at you sympathetically. "Sorry. I was a little rough there. I'm trying to be in a better mood, Y/N. Not quite sure when that'll be, though." He sighs.

"It's fine. I don't expect you to forgive me anytime soon." You sulk, avoiding his eyes.

"It's not fine, though. Stewing about the whole thing won't help either of us." He sighs again, reaching over to cup your cheek.

"I hate this." You huff, crossing your arms. "I just want to be over it already. I've never felt so terrible in my life. And that includes puking my guts out on Sunday."

"I know, sweetheart. I'm not doing so hot over here either. We can go back home and cuddle, if you want. Or, we could do something else...if you're up for it." He can't hide his devilish grin at the suggestion.

Your head snaps to him, brows furrowed. "Are you serious?" You can't exactly say you hate the idea, but you don't believe he seriously wants to fuck you right now. "You're messing with me, right?"

"I am deadly serious, angel. What do you say, wanna make up with me?" His lips twitch in amusement, awaiting your answer.

"If it'll make us stop being mad at each other, by all means, let's give it a shot." You scoff at how unbelievable he is.

"I know the perfect spot, baby. Shouldn't take long to get there." He chuckles, putting the van into gear again. He peels out of the lot like a madman, eager to have his way with you at whatever place he's taking you to now. You slowly recognize the route as he drives, piecing together where you're going. Skull. Fucking. Rock. Of course, the 'hardest' place he can think of to rail you into oblivion. He drives up to the edge of the woods, parking crookedly. He rushes out of the van, jogging to your side to pull you from your seat.

"Skull Rock, huh? How romantic." You comment sarcastically, and he roughly smacks your ass in response.

"Shut your mouth, you dirty little slut." He says into your ear, sending a chill down your spine. He pulls you through the trees, going down the foot-beaten path to the rock formation where all the local horndogs go. It doesn't take long before you reach the infamous spot, and Eddie roughly pushes you up against the rock. The hard surface hurts a little when you make contact, but you can't be bothered to give a shit. His lips attack yours hungrily, and he grips your ass in his hands. You moan against him, running your fingers deep into his hair. His lips move on to your neck, biting so hard he almost draws blood.

"Eddie!" You cry out, loving every bit of pain he inflicts on you. You want him to hurt you, to punish you for what you said. He marks you deep and hard with his teeth, drinking up every whine and whimper that falls from your lips. You're already so wet, your arousal soaking through your panties. His hands leave your ass, and he frantically unzips your jeans. He shoves his hand inside, rubbing your clit ferociously. You moan again, tugging on his hair harder than you have before.

"Fuck!" He pulls his mouth away, staring into your eyes with blazing pupils. "God, you're just begging for it at this point. Such a filthy girl." He growls, shoving two fingers inside your dripping cunt. You cry out, holding his shoulders for balance. He curls them inside you, making a squelching noise as your juices spread into his palm. He yanks his hand out of your pants, bringing his fingers to your lips. "Be a good girl and lick them clean, princess." He says, waiting for you to open your mouth.

You do as he asks, taking his fingers deeply and easily. You almost choke as you suck your juices from them. Eddie watches you in awe with his mouth agape. "Mmm." You moan around him, winking as you bite down on him playfully. He groans at the feeling of your teeth on his flesh, and you finally let him go. "Yummy." You giggle mischievously.

"Turn around." He commands, his tone darkening. You apprehensively do as he asks, anticipation running wild in your veins. You lean against the rock, placing your hands flat on its surface. Eddie pulls down your jeans and panties, leaving them around your ankles. You shiver as your pussy is exposed to the cool air. He spanks your ass again, harder this time. "Such a dirty little slut, letting me fuck you in the middle of the woods." He purrs in your ear, a shockwave of pleasure coursing through you at his words. You hear the jingle of his belt unbuckling, the sound of fabric tugging down his legs. He presses his body firmly against yours, holding his cock in his hand. Eddie drags his stiff length through your slick folds, causing you to moan simultaneously. "I want you to beg, Y/N. Beg me to fuck you like the whore you are." He orders.

"Please, fuck me, Eddie." You plead, almost whining. You can't take his teasing, the sensation of his dick rubbing on your clit is too much to bear.

"You'll have to do better than that." He barks through gritted teeth. He's dying to plunge into you, he's so hard it almost hurts. But he wants to make you pay for hurting him earlier, you need to beg for what you want.

"Please, fuck me. I need your dick inside me, Eddie. Go as hard as you want, I want you to hurt me. Please." You're nearly on the verge of tears, needing to feel him fill you up like no one else can.

"That's a good girl." He smirks, before slamming his cock into your cunt. You moan loudly, the sound echoing through the woods. Eddie grips your hips as hard as he can, his rings digging deep into your skin. He presses you further into the rock, your head resting against it sideways. Its smooth surface cools your skin, shocking your senses. He pulls out almost all the way, before slamming inside you again. He hammers into your pussy at a punishing pace, making you both so wound up it won't take long for you to cum. He's wasting no time, pounding into your g-spot with every stroke. "Fuck, you're so fuckin’ wet, baby. You like when I fuck you like this? Rough, and fast, and dirty? Where anyone could catch us?" He asks you a mindless stream of questions, savoring how tight you’re squeezing around his dick.

"Yes! Fuck, yes! I love it like this, fuck me harder, baby." You plead helplessly, egging him on. He appeases your request, thrusting even faster. To think, just a couple hours ago you were arguing like your parents. And now you're fucking like wild animals in the goddamn woods. The whole thing is so thrilling, part of you wants to get caught. An intense knot is building inside your belly, pulled tighter and tighter as Eddie fucks you mercilessly.

He brings his ringed hand to your throat, squeezing tightly. You moan at him cutting off your oxygen, making your head feel light. "You're such a dirty girl, moaning when I choke you like this." He lets you breathe, leaving you gasping for air.

"I'm getting close, Eds. Fuck, you feel so good. Make me cum, baby. Fill me up." You keep calling out dirty things to him as he screws you silly, the sound of his hips slapping against your ass filling the air.

"I’m almost there, too, angel. Fuck, your pussy is so hot and tight around my dick. And always soaking wet for me, such a good girl." He groans, breathing heavily. You're both soaked in sweat, your clothes sticking to your flesh as he continues to rut against you. His words drive you further toward the edge. He's so goddamn filthy like this and you can't get enough.

"Choke me again, baby…choke me while I cum." You whimper, tears rolling down your cheeks as your simmering orgasm quickly approaches. He obeys, squeezing even harder this time. Eddie's thrusts grow sloppy, signaling his own oncoming release. He keeps going to set you off with him, desperate to feel you lose it.

"Come on, sweetheart. Make a mess all over my cock, like a good little slut." He clumsily bites your earlobe, sending you crashing over the edge.

"Oh, god…fuck…EDDIE!" You scream as you cum, your legs shaking uncontrollably. Eddie holds you up, continuing to fuck you as your cunt clamps down onto his length. He groans, maintaining his pace as your walls milk him for all he's worth. Your release splashes down onto both of you, the warm liquid washing over his cock again. He swears he'll never grow tired of the phenomenal feeling it gives him.

"Fuck!" He shouts, his high prolonged by you squirting on him. He thrusts inside you a few more times, making your pussy spark with overstimulation. Eddie eventually slows down, carefully pulling out of you. You whine at the loss, and more arousal drips from your soaked cunt. He collapses onto you, panting loudly. "Jesus Christ." He huffs, planting a thoughtless kiss on your damp hair.

Your legs tremble like jelly, Eddie's weight on you is the only thing keeping you upright. Your insides clench around nothing, and tears stain your cheeks. "Do you forgive me now?" You ask meekly, trying to steady your breathing.

"Of course I do, angel." He replies, easing himself off of you to put his cock away. You fall to your knees, unable to stand anymore. "Shit, are you alright?" Eddie drops to your side, turning you around to look at him. He gasps at the bruise that’s formed on your cheek from being pressed into the rock. "Oh, Y/N, I'm so sorry." He touches your face, making you wince. "Jesus, why didn't you say something? I didn't want to hurt you like this." His eyes are blown wide with worry, and he won't stop fussing over you. But you're not bothered by how sore and bruised you are, you wanted it. At least, you thought you did.

"Eddie, it's fine. I'm fine, really. It's not your fault, baby I promise. I-I liked it, I swear." You avoid his eyes, stuttering your words. You're not sure who you're trying to convince more, him or yourself. You try to stand, pulling your jeans up clumsily. Eddie steadies you, letting you lean against him.

Once you're all done up, he looks deep into your eyes intensely. "Be honest with me, Y/N. Did you actually enjoy that, or are you just trying to please me?" He's serious, concerned as to why you're so keen to convince him that the bruise on your face means nothing.

"I mean...I really liked the sex. And I like the way you talk to me, and the choking, obviously. I guess…the bruise isn't great. I feel like I deserve it, though." You don't mean to say that last bit, hoping to keep the self-destructive thoughts to yourself for once. But as soon as the words leave your lips, it changes Eddie's expression instantly. His face drops deeper into sadness, his eyes widening in shock at your suggestion.

"Y/N. There is never going to be a time where you deserve to be hurt. Not by anyone, and especially not by me. I know you still feel bad about what you said, and that's okay. But you don't, under any circumstances, need to let me hurt you to make it better. From now on, if something hurts, you fuckin' say so. Do you understand?" He holds your hands tightly, waiting for you to answer. He can't help getting a bit frustrated with you. He cares so deeply for you, and he never wants to cause you unnecessary pain.

"Yeah, I understand." You reply, tears falling freely from your reddening eyes. You're overcome with an intense wave of emotions. Sadness, shame, guilt, anger. It's all flooding your head, weighing you down. It's all too much, and your anxiety is getting the best of you again. Your knees give out underneath you, and you fall to the ground, your hands slipping out of Eddie's grasp. You land on your ass, the back of your head smacking against the rock. Blunt pain rattles through your skull, and you're already sensing a headache coming on. "Ow." You state simply, rubbing where you hit your head. You don't really care about a potential concussion at this point. You're too busy falling apart.

"Y/N, please, tell me what's wrong?" Eddie frantically kneels next to you again, unable to hold back his own tears. "Just talk to me. Whatever it is, I'm here. Okay?" He pulls you into his lap, holding you tightly.

You try to bite back your sobs, finding difficulty in forming words. You know Eddie wants to help you, and you shouldn't shut down on him. "I-I'm just being stupid, Eds. I just feel too many things right now." Your breath shudders as you speak, struggling to calm yourself down.

"Like what, princess? Tell me. You'll feel better if you do." He insists. You look into his eyes, finding a welcome warmth inside them. He smiles, stroking a finger along your face. "There you are. You're okay, sweetheart. I'm right here. What's going on in there?" He taps your temple, making you wince again. "Shit, sorry. Forgot you hit your head." He chuckles apologetically.

"It's okay, Eddie. But there's too much going on in here, it's so overwhelming." Nausea slowly washes over you, making your head spin. You quell your queasiness, focusing on Eddie's arms wrapping you up safely.

"I know, angel. Just take it slow, one feeling at a time, hm?" He says sweetly, doing everything he can to relax your swelling nerves. It doesn't help that talking about your darkest emotions and thoughts sends your body into a spiral. But Eddie won't move on until you share them with him, no matter how ugly they may be.

You take a deep breath, bracing yourself for his reaction, whatever it is. "Well...um, I feel angry at myself for saying what I did. It was so awful, I don't even know how I came up with that. It scares me that I'm capable of even thinking something like that, and to say it so easily. And I feel like I don't deserve you, Eddie. Even before our fight, I've just been waiting for you to realize being with me is too much and leave me behind. I'm a complete mess, if you haven't noticed by now." You can't help laughing at yourself, though what you said isn't all that funny.

"You may be a mess, Y/N. But so am I. Hell, you've seen my room." He jokes, making you giggle. “Keep goin’ baby.” He encourages you.

You sniffle, wiping the stupid tears away as you continue. "And I'm tired of crying all the time, but that's all I seem to be able to do. I'm usually better at hiding it. Or at least waiting until Mom and Dustin go to sleep." Again, you admit something you don’t mean to, but it's too late to take it back. Eddie scoffs at your confession, having a hard time accepting just how much you've needed someone like him to come along.

"You don't mean to tell me you cry every night when you're alone, do you?" He becomes serious again, furrowing his eyebrows at you.

"Maybe. Most nights, at least." You mumble and shrug, rolling your eyes. "I dunno, I guess I'm used to it at this point. I feel so alone, all the time. I can be surrounded by people, even ones that make me happy, and I'm still all by myself inside. But I can't tell people that, even if it's true." You look down between your thighs, staring at the dirt and twigs beneath you.

"Do you still feel that way when I'm around?" Eddie asks, and your head shoots back up to meet his teary gaze. If he were a religious man, he'd pray to God that you give him the answer he's hoping for.

You cup both sides of his face, shaking your head purposefully. Your lip trembles as you form the words. "No, Eddie. You're the only person who makes that feeling go away. Since Friday, I've started feeling like a whole person again, instead of an empty shell. I'm only falling to pieces now because my dumb ass thinks I've fucked it all up. I still might have at this point." You explain, biting your lip as you’re still unclear on whether or not you’ve ruined everything.

"I promise, you haven’t." He replies, kissing you deeply. You hold each other close, moving your mouths together lovingly as salty tears roll down both your faces. You're entangled like this for what seems like hours, you swear the sun wasn't supposed to be setting just yet. You'd stay in this moment forever if you could, but your ass is getting numb. Eddie senses your discomfort, pulling away while wiping his eyes. "We should probably get going. Your Mom might worry about where you are."

"Yeah, I know. Oh, I left my bag at your place, with all my school stuff in it. But I can call home if we go back to get it, and we could grab some food before you take me home…if you want." You're coming up with any excuse to stay with him, you hate the idea of being without him for a single second.

"We can do that, baby. I can see you're not ready to say goodbye just yet. I'd be lying if I said I didn’t feel the same way. We will have to do that at some point tonight, though, Y/N." It pains Eddie to even think about letting you sleep alone ever again. But he knows becoming attached at the hip isn't healthy, and you both need time apart on occasion.

"I know we do, which sucks. But, clinging to each other will end badly, and I definitely don't want that happening any time soon." You smile, slowly standing up. Your legs get pins and needles, causing you to stumble. Eddie's ready to catch you, but you manage just fine on your own this time. He stands up beside you, taking your hand.

"C’mon, sweetheart." He leads you back to the van, and the two of you discuss where to eat. "How ‘bout Chinese?" He suggests.

"Nah, it always makes me sick." You say, twisting your face in disgust. "What about...burgers?"

"That sounds perfect, angel." He squeezes your hand, rubbing his thumb over yours. You reach the van as the sky turns a deep orange hue, signaling your day with him coming to a close. You dread laying in bed by yourself again, the nights are especially lonely for you.

You climb inside the vehicle, and Eddie offers you another cigarette. What's one more when you've already had about ten today? You put it between your lips, letting him light it for you as he gazes into your eyes. He's watching you closely, gauging how you'll be doing mentally by the time he has to take you home. "Thanks." You say as you inhale the sweet smoke once again, you'll never get over the rush you get inside your head from it.

"Anything for my sexy girl." Eddie smirks, lighting a cig for himself. He's so hot when he smokes, letting the gray whisps flow slowly from his lips or out of his nose. It's not necessarily a positive thing, but it really suits him. You’ve always thought most people who smoke look kind of...depressing. But something about the way some people, namely Eddie, do it makes them so very attractive. He catches you staring again, chuckling lowly. "What you lookin' at, angel?"

"Just admiring my handsome boyfriend, that's all." You wink at him, placing a hand on his knee.

"Hm. Thought so." He replies like the smartass he is, starting the van for the second to last time tonight. You ride along to the nearest burger joint, going into the drive-thru. Eddie asks what you want, relaying it to the speaker box before ordering for himself. He pulls up to the window, paying and taking the greasy paper bag from the cashier. He hands it to you to hold until you get back to the trailer, and it warms your lap as the two of you head back. You playfully feed Eddie the occasional French fry from the bag, munching on a few yourself during the drive.

He turns the van into Forest Hills, pulling up next to the trailer. You hop out into the cold evening air, clutching the bag tightly. Eddie grabs your drinks, following behind you inside. Wayne's truck is gone, he's already left for his shift at the plant. "I'm gonna call Mom real quick. She's probably already called here a few times." You say as you plop the bag onto the kitchen table, going over to the phone. There's a note from Wayne that reads:

Hey kiddos,Y/N's mother has called a couple times wondering where she is. I told her you're together, and that you’re safe. You'd better give her a ring when you see this, though, she seemed ready to call the cops.-Wayne

"Shit, hopefully Mom hasn't sicced Chief Powell on us." You groan, flashing Eddie the note. You quickly dial home, and your mother picks up on the first ring.

"Y/N? Is that you?" Mom asks, clearly frazzled with worry.

"Yeah, Mom. I'm fine, I'm back at the trailer with Eddie. We were just out doing errands and stuff, nothing dangerous."

"Oh, thank God! I've been worried sick about you, I almost called the Sheriff!" She lets out a sigh of relief, finally able to breathe again.

You can't help rolling your eyes, and Eddie flashes you a disapproving look at your childish antics. You narrow your eyes back at him, unamused at him judging you. "I figured as much. Look, we picked up some dinner, but I'll be back home soon, okay?"

"Alright, sugarpuff. Be safe. I love you." She coos on the other end.

"Love you too, Mom. Bye." You hang up the phone, looking at Eddie again. "What?" You're confused by his expression. You go back to the table, taking a seat before reaching into the paper bag.

"She's just worried about you, Y/N." Oh, great. A lecture from your boyfriend, that'll pair well with dinner. Eddie takes the other chair across from you, nudging your knee with his under the table.

"I know, she's always worried about me. It's fuckin’ suffocating sometimes." You grumble, putting his burger and fries in front of him.

"Can you really blame her? She may be a bit overbearing, but she's just following her instincts. I know you think you're hiding your feelings from people to spare them, but she sees it. Dustin does too." He reaches for your hand, and you begrudgingly give it to him.

"Is that so? Well, if I'm so goddamn obvious, why don't they say anything?" You can't help getting annoyed at his words, though you know he's right.

He scoffs, smiling wryly. "Only you would find a way to make that an insult. ButI don't mean it like that. So, can you please chill the fuck out?" He gazes at you meaningfully, wanting you to hear him out. You nod, resisting the urge to roll your eyes again. "They don't say anything because they can tell you don't wanna talk about it. You know, due to how...aggressively independent you are." He can't help smiling at his choice of words.

"I recall you using the term 'stubborn' before." You comment, taking a bite out of your squished burger.

"Yes, and that was also a completely correct observation, Y/N. But my main point is that your family sees you struggling, but they know they can't help you unless you ask for it." He unwraps his own burger, waiting for you to respond. You contemplate what he's saying, you'd never considered that hiding yourself away might be affecting the people who love you.

"I never thought about it that way. I don't like being a burden on people, Eddie. They have their own shit going on. Why should they take on mine?" You rationalize.

He sighs, speaking while chewing. "It's not all or nothing, Y/N. Obviously, your problems are your responsibility first. But, there's nothing wrong with looking to others for support. You help your family with their issues, don't you? You've definitely helped me with mine." He swallows, eyes flicking to yours before taking another bite.

"Well, yeah, I do. It'd be pretty shitty if I didn't." It's a no-brainer to you to help those you care about, but it never clicked for you that it's not unreasonable to expect it in return.

"You're right. It would be. And I don't mean to be harsh, sweetheart. But it's also kinda shitty to shut yourself off from the people who love you." He's right, it is a bit hurtful to hear. But it's honest.

You groan, admitting defeat. "Ugh! Alright, I'll try to be more open with them. God, must you always be right?" You say half-jokingly.

"Yep. It's my job." Eddie laughs, tangling his leg with yours. He rubs his foot against your ankle, his simple touch giving you goosebumps. The two of you finish your dinner, keeping up light conversation. As the food disappears, you're becoming more aware of just how little time you have left with him for the day. It shouldn't feel like such a big deal, and you don't want to be the 'crazy, clingy girlfriend'. You also don't want the day to end, you don't want to say goodbye. "Y/N, relax. I can already tell what you're thinking in that head of yours."

"I swear you just love calling me out, Munson." You roll your eyes, giggling at how intuitive he is. It makes your heart feel warm and fuzzy, because he pays such clear attention to your feelings. He's the first guy that's ever done that for you.

"Ouch, last name basis again, huh? Have it your way, Henderson." He chuckles, Eddie loves to tease like no other. You gather the empty wrappers and fry cartons, tossing them into the trash.

"I'm gonna grab my bag, Eds." You walk down the hall to his bedroom, taking a long look at the bed before retrieving your things. The blanket is all bunched up, evidence of the two of you sleeping here the previous night. You're tempted to lay down and refuse to get up, but you know it would be no use. Eddie's much stronger than you, he'd just pluck you off the mattress and carry you in his arms to the van. You sigh, reliving how safe you felt in his arms last night before shutting the door.

"You ready, sweetheart?" He asks, standing by the front door now. You walk up to him, putting your arms around his neck. His hands instinctively go to your waist, caressing your sides with his fingers.

"No, but I suppose I have to be, huh?" You ask, gazing up at him. He just nods, kissing your lips tenderly. You happily return it, moving your mouth against his in a languid rhythm. There's not an overwhelming tone of lust between you this time though, it's more like a bittersweet chorus floating around inside your heads. It's silly, really. You'll see each other again in the morning. But budding romance is one hell of a drug. A highly addictive and volatile one, at that. It's always tempting to dive off the deep end for the sake of another taste, but those who choose that route usually fizzle out in a couple of months. And you certainly don't want that, much as it pains you to let go for a few hours.

Eddie's the one to pull away, trying his best to show restraint and not absolutely rail you again on the kitchen table. "C'mon, baby. We gotta get you home." He says, his lips still unbearably close to yours. You lean forward to kiss him again, but he puts his hand up to stop you. "Nice try, but it's time to go." You back off, blushing at your failure. He smirks, taking your hand as he opens the door.

The ride home goes smoothly, Eddie pulls out all the stops to keep you giggling and happy as he drives. Before you know it, he's pulling up to your house. You grab your backpack from behind your seat, turning to Eddie. "You wanna walk me to the door, darling?" You ask mischievously, but he picks up what you're trying to do. He puts a hand on your knee, shaking his head.

"No, sweetheart. Only because I know you'll pull me down the hall and into your room, and I won't be able to resist. So, I'm resisting now." He holds strong, despite his heart and his cock begging him to do otherwise. You sigh at his words, frowning. "Don't pout, babydoll. I'll be back in the morning to bring you to class. And we can hang out afterwards. We'll do whatever you want. So, take our time apart to think about what you'd like that to be, 'kay?" Eddie cups your cheek, kissing your bruise, and then your lips. "Goodnight, sweetheart. I'll see you tomorrow." He looks in your eyes, nodding to assure you that you'll be alright without him tonight.

You nod as well, holding back tears. You know it'll be okay, even if your tear ducts say otherwise. "Goodnight, Eds. I'll be dreaming of you until I see you in the morning." You peck his lips again, before leaving the van. You shut the door, waving to him. He waves back, slowly pulling out of the driveway. You stay outside in the chilly air until he's disappeared from your view. You hear the front door open behind you, and your mother comes outside.

"Sugarpuff! Thank God you're home! We've been worried about you!" She calls to you, and you turn around to follow her inside. You kick off your shoes in the entryway, and prepare for the interrogation you're about to be subjected to. "How'd school go today? Did you have fun with Eddie?" She asks, not yet taking notice of your bruise. You were hoping to slip past her with it until you could cover it with makeup tomorrow. But Dustin walks from the kitchen and spots it.

"What happened to your face?" He asks, and your heart stops. 

Mom leans to the side to see what he's talking about. She gasps, eyes going wide. "Oh my God! Is that a bruise? How'd you get that? Did Eddie hurt you?" She asks, brows furrowing in anger.

"If you'd let me get a word in, school was fine. I had a great time with Eddie, and the bruise was an accident. We were hanging out at Skull Rock and I slipped and hit my cheek. But I'm fine, thanks for asking." You don't mean to sound so defensive, but you're not really in the mood for the third degree.

"Y/N, you know you can tell me anything, right? I'm your mother, and I'm here to support you." She looks so worried, though that's always been her default. You promised Eddie you'd be more open with her, and with Dustin. It’s definitely proving to be a challenge, though.

"I know, Mom. I know I've been hiding, a-and bottled up and everything. I haven't meant to be that way. I promise, if I need your help I'll ask, okay? But I’m fine. It was just an accident. Eddie would never hurt me, he was actually really concerned about the bruise." You insist, just wanting to go to bed already.

"Wait, Skull Rock? Don't people go there to一" Dustin says before Mom cuts him off.

"Dusty! Shut it, and mind your own business! Off to bed, you've got school tomorrow." She scolds, and he skulks off to his room. She turns to you again, pulling you in for a hug. "I'm just glad you're doing better, sugarpuff. Eddie seems like a really good guy for you. I'll quit prying so much and let you get some rest. You look so tired."

"Thanks, Mom. I love you. And I'll try to be more open with you about how I'm doing, okay? I'm sorry for closing myself off for so long. That wasn't right of me." She gasps when you squeeze her tightly, you've never been one to hug her like this before. She knows you really mean it, almost tearing up.

"It's okay, Y/N. You've always been fiercely independent, which I've always admired in you. But I'm here when you need me, no matter what." The two of you pull apart finally, and you head to your room for the night. 

You find that Mom has done your laundry again, despite how often you insist you'll do it yourself. All the clothing has been put away already, except for one item, folded neatly on your bed. It's the Hellfire shirt Eddie gave you, and you instantly change into it to sleep in. You open your bag to take out anything not school related, when you find something peculiar. An unopened pack of Eddie's cigarettes, and his lighter. You hold them in your hands, noticing a note written in black marker on the box:

For when you miss me, sweetheart.-E

Eddie has surprisingly neat handwriting, and he’s even drawn a little heart on the box. You smile like an idiot, he knew you'd want nothing more than to smell his cigarettes when he's not around. You have no idea when he slipped them in your bag. It must have been last night, or on the way home when you weren't looking. Either way, you can't help loving him even more for the present. You take the gifts to your bedroom window, opening it wide to allow the smoke to escape. You light up one last time for the evening, imagining Eddie by your side as you let clouds of white flow freely into the night sky.

To be continued...

#hippiegoth97 #eddie munson #stranger things #hawkins #smut #fanfiction #1980s #into the fire #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x henderson!reader #eddie munson x female reader

[soldrawss]

A little summer rain excursion to the corner store with the Noceda kiddos.

#my art #toh #the owl house #toh hunter #toh luz #toh vee #luz noceda #vee noceda #hunter noceda #part of my human au where Camilla adopts vee and hunter as little kids #theyre teens now #they went to go get snacks for movie night #but got caught in a little summer rain #no problem tho big brother hunter is always prepared #not like his sisters will actually listen to him and stay under the damn umbrella #a little water never hurt anyone sure #but if they come home soaking wet and get sick #mami is gonna be PISSED #and they will have no one to blame but themselves because hunter WARNED them but oh well #anyway yeah just a small doodle to get back into the swing of things #and drawing again #quality is so crunchy im so sorry im trying to fix it

[alrightieaphroditie]

harder | j.m  series masterlist!

pairing *:·ﾟjoel miller x female!reader wc *:·ﾟ5.7k warnings *:·ﾟ18+! minors please do not interact!! v angsty at first, mentions of death and overall sad topics... then we go into a lil bit of kissing, some dirty talk if you squint, teasing, pet names (baby, sugar), titty play, some praise, probably poorly written smut lmao an *:·ﾟit's been a hot second since i tried writing smut and damn am i insecure about it lmaoo this took longer than anticpated too because i sadly lost half of it almost immediately after writing it... so yeah. feedback is hella appreciated on this, and it isn't quite proofread so if you catch something please let me know!! i enjoyed writing this (like a lot) so i really hope you all enjoy reading this! <3 

synopsis *:·ﾟever since the dinner at your place, joel and ellie have fit themselves into your life seamlessly. when joel gets back from a hunting trip, he comes over and shows you some new tricks. (18+!)

over the course of a couple months, joel and ellie had fit themselves into your life like puzzle pieces. 

the pair would come over to your house once a week every week after that first dinner together, and sometimes you would cook, sometimes you'd grab some food to go from the tipsy bison. they would help you set the table, ellie nagging joel most nights about how slow he was moving to put the silverware around the table. you would all eat, then ellie would sneak into the living room while you and joel cleaned together. and then the three of you would sit around your coffee table, playing board games or cards. or you'd go to see the movie playing in town, or you'd go for a walk around the neighborhood. 

these nights with them quickly became your favorite moments of the week. you had formed a close bond with ellie, and the more time you spent with joel, the harder you fell for him. most nights ellie would fall asleep in the guest room you had set up for her, and you and joel would spend hours talking together out on the porch like you did that first night. 

sometimes you'd talk about nothing major. he'd comment on how the greenhouses were doing, which was where you helped the community out the most, and it would get you talking about all the vegetables and flowers you were trying to grow. or you'd ask how his patrol shift went, and he'd complain to you about his partner. it was small talk, but with someone like joel, it meant a lot to you that he was willing to simply sit on your wooden bench beside you and listen. 

sometimes, after a long week, you'd make joel a glass of whiskey (which you had started to keep around simply for the man. how he didn't know how much you crushed on him was beyond you. maybe it was his age.) and you'd talk about the harder things. your time spent in the bunker your family built. how your best friend was murdered by a group of hunters after they had kept you captive for weeks. how they used you. how you managed to kill them all while they slept because they got lazy and assumed you were too weak. 

joel had had a hard time listening to it, but he insisted that he wanted to hear about your past. the guilt he felt was indescribable. he wasn't the one to keep you captive, to use you, but with his past as a hunter he couldn't help but feel like he played a role in your pain. he had spent a lot of time repressing his emotions regarding that aspect of his life, but you encouraged him to talk about it. to feel his emotions. you told him over and over again that you didn't blame him, weren't scared of him. didn't judge him. 

it was hard for him to hear, to believe, but your consistency helped him more than he would ever admit. he was more welcome in jackson now than he was when he first arrived, mostly thanks to you, but he still felt like an outsider. like people were just waiting for a pin to drop and for him to reduce back into the monster of a man they claimed him to be. he was tired of trying to prove to everyone that he was simply just a man who survived the only way he knew how to. but with you? he didn't feel the need to apologize for who he was. he could settle with you, and that was something he hadn't felt in a long time. 

on the simpler nights, joel would talk about his life before the outbreak, how he and tommy worked in contracting and how he missed doing things with his hands. he'd talk about always being busy, always doing something, when the world turned. about how he was skeptical of the community when he and ellie first stumbled upon it because for once, for the first time since the outbreak, he wasn't constantly having to look over his shoulder for something bad. 

on the harder nights, the ones where joel felt like he needed more than one glass of liquor, he confided in you about sarah. about tess. about how his relationship with tommy had changed and he didn't know what he needed to do to fix it anymore. about his insecurities with ellie, how he didn't trust his mind anymore to make the right decisions when it came to her because he was too attached. 

he told you all of the things he swore he would never talk about again, and you simply sat there, listening, sharing his burden. the way your hand would rest gently on his arm while he talked, squeezing it every once in a while, to encourage him to go on, it provided him with a strength he didn't know he needed. 

joel didn't know this, but that night when he first told you about sarah and the events that happened on his birthday, after he and ellie had left, you spent the rest of your night crying in your bed. crying for joel, for the loss he had experienced. for how the world had turned and how he had to manage the loss of his own world on top of it. for how he was never properly able to grieve her death. 

you were beginning to see a side of joel you don't think anyone has seen in a long time. you were also starting to understand why joel miller was the man he is today. after learning about his past, his experiences, and his trauma, you recognized and could empathize why he felt the need to guard his heart the way he has been. it was a testament to his strength, how he could keep going while carrying all of that inside of him, and you admired the hell out him. 

and somehow, you had worked your way into his heart, through his guards. and joel may not have known it yet, but you were there to stay, and you would be for as long as he let you. 

you were constantly thinking about the man, your days spent replaying your conversations in your mind and getting giddy just remembering them. you honestly were a bit concerned, considering you've never felt this way about anyone before. you wanted to ask maria about it, but then she'd pester you into telling her who you were crushing over, and you didn't think it would go over too well considering joel was twice your age and, well, him. 

so, you kept it to yourself, letting your mind fantasize about what it would be like to actually be with joel, physically, romantically, all of it. 

you hadn't seen joel in a couple of days, as he was one of the men selected to go hunt. he wouldn't be back for a few more days, either, and you hated to admit it but you missed him. and you wondered if he missed you too. if he ever thought about you while he was away. he was so hard to read, even now, and sometimes you thought about just grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him while you unloaded all of your feelings onto him. 

but if there was one thing you knew about joel miller, it was that he would absolutely hate that. so... you kept it to yourself. 

you had just gotten home after spending all day in the greenhouse with ellie. maria had you showing her the vegetation that the community was working on, showing her the ins and outs of gardening and how to properly pick the fruit that was growing. she loved it, of course, and on her breaks, she spent most of the time sketching the different fruits and flowers in the little sketchbook joel had found for her. 

it was a good day, but a busy one, and you were exhausted. the sun was already starting to set, and you wanted to cuddle up on your couch with one of the romance novels your friend had brought you with a cup of tea. you were still dressed in your work outfit - a pair of olive-green linen pants and simple black cotton t-shirt - and you were already planning on stepping into your pajamas early when a knock on your door startled you. 

a glance through the little peephole on your door had your heart racing. joel was standing on your porch, one of his arms behind his back as he glanced around. you could see the muscles in his arm bulge against the faded red t-shirt he was wearing, and that sight alone could've fueled your fantasies for a month straight. 

a grin was plastered on your face as you unlocked the front door, and his dark eyes found yours easily through the screen door. "joel miller, as i live and breathe. what are you doin' here?" you adopted an exaggerated southern accent, something you and ellie started doing to poke fun of joel for his texan roots. he kept telling you guys it wasn't funny, but you could always see a small smile on his lips every time you did it.

even now as he rolled his eyes at you, you could see the edges of his mouth quirk up in a smirk, and fuck but you loved it. "you think you're so damn funny with that, don't you?" he asked, his gaze trailing down your body so quickly you almost missed it. but you didn't, and now your face was burning bright red. 

"ellie would agree with me and you know it, mister." you argued, pushing the screen door open for joel to come in. he didn't move, though, keeping his arm behind his back with a mischievous gleam in his eyes. you crossed your arms over your chest. "but for real, i thought you were gonna be out a few more days with everyone else?" it was rare that the hunting party would come back early, but not uncommon either. 

"didn't have much luck in the area we were in, so we figured we'd come back and regroup before leaving again. i found somethin' though," he trailed off, a full smile encompassing his mouth now. something you had learned about joel in your months of studying him was that gift giving was a huge thing for him. he mainly brought stuff back for ellie, but you've noticed lately that he had been finding little things here and there for you too. you wondered what that meant.

you could just barely make out the edges of something behind his legs, but you couldn't quit tell what it was. your arms slipped from your chest, your hands moving out and making a grabby motion. "you want me to close my eyes?" you teased, making a point of squinting your eyes so that you could see just a sliver of joel between them. he shook his head at you, grumbling something about how weird you were becoming, and he moved his arm from back behind his body. 

"joel!" you gasped; mouth dropped in awe as he presented a perfectly intact guitar. "this is amazing! you do know what this means now, right?" his eyebrow rose as he took in the sight of you gently holding the instrument. he had been pretty proud of the find, taking care to clean off the vines and dirt that had dusted itself around the guitar. considering you had been begging him for lessons for weeks since ellie mentioned he could play the guitar; he knew what was coming. 

he wanted to tease you about it, regardless. 

"if i hear the words 'guitar lessons' come out of your mouth, 'm leavin'." he threatened, crossing his arms across his chest. his worn t-shirt strained against his muscles and tightened around his chest, and it took everything in you not to stare. his tone was mean, as mean as he could get with you, but then he did something you weren't expecting - he winked at you. 

you squealed internally. 

“that’s not fair and you know it, miller. we literally have a guitar now! what else are we gonna do with it?” you complained playfully, your voice light. you started backing up into the house, joel’s arm reaching out to catch the screen door before it slammed shut in his face. he followed you in, making sure to close both doors and kicking his work boots off next to the small rug you had inside. 

you were still marveling over the instrument, turning it over in your hands while taking it in. from what you remembered, this was a pretty standard guitar. the wood was a warm brown, and it had all six silvery strings connected still. you sat down on the carpet in front of your couch, balancing the guitar on your thighs. you were aware of joel as he entered the living room behind you, settling into one of the chairs you had on the other side of the room.

he was quiet as he watched you get comfortable with the guitar, his brown eyes sweeping over your figure. your head was bent to the side, your hair falling in slight waves across your face as you studied where to put your fingers on the neck. he could see you biting your bottom lip as you concentrated, and he had to stealthy adjust himself in the chair as he watched. god, he thought. you looked so beautiful. 

his thoughts were interrupted by the loudest, most out of tune noise coming from you and the guitar. he had to fight off the urge to cover his ears, but then he wouldn’t have heard the sound of your laughter that followed quickly after, and that was something he never wanted to miss. his eyes were already on yours when you lifted your head to look at him, a sheepish smile on your face. “clearly i don’t know what i’m doing. your turn?” 

he hadn’t played the guitar in years, but he would be lying if he said his fingers weren’t itching to at least hold it again. he rubbed his palms against his jean clad thighs before standing up and taking the guitar from your outstretched hands. for some reason, he was nervous to play in front of you. he wanted it to be good, to be perfect, but with years of not practicing and with no idea how maintained this guitar was, he really couldn’t do much besides try. 

joel tested the guitar in his grip, absentmindedly strumming his fingers quietly while he fiddled with the pegs to tune it. and you sat there on your carpet, stars in your eyes as you watched his shoulders relax ever so slightly. you saw his foot tapping against the floor as he strummed, and it wasn’t a song you recognized but it immediately became your new favorite. 

he played for a lot longer than you anticipated, his eyes closing softly as his fingers worked the neck of the guitar. you wished in this moment that you had a camera, some way to capture the moment. you’ve never seen joel so relaxed, so in his element. his foot, tapping away against your floor. his hands, holding the guitar with a level of gentleness you weren’t expecting. his head, slowly bobbing along to the chords he played. the sunset was filtering through your window, casting him in an orangish glow. 

and your heart ached, thinking about the man before you who once dreamed of making a career out this. he was talented enough, that was for damn sure. you could easily imagine him somewhere up on a stage, holding the same guitar and preforming the same exact way. you wondered if he’d ever sing in front of you, but you didn’t want to push your luck. this alone was enough for you. 

the music eventually drifted away softly, joel’s fingers coming to rest as he strummed it one last time. he cleared out his throat when he finished, looking a little shy, but you weren’t having it. “joel, that was amazing.” you gushed, fighting the urge to clap for him. 

“s’nothin’ special,” he muttered, but you swore the tips of his cheeks turned a shade of light pink from the compliment. 

“that’s bullshit and you know it,” your tone was argumentative back, not wanting him to diminish his talents. you sat forward on your knees, clasping your hands together. “will you please teach me something, joel? anything? one singular basic chord?” you begged, giving him your biggest eyes and playful pout. 

“you’re almost worse than ellie is when she wants something.” he teased, rolling his head back on his neck before standing up to come sit behind you on the couch. his legs spread out, and from the corner of your eye you could see his thighs strain against his jeans. oh lord. 

“i’m taking that as a compliment. that girl is so headstrong and i love it,” you shuffled back so that your back was pressed against the couch, crossing your legs over the other again so that you could rest the guitar against your lap. you gave an experimental strum, and since joel worked on tuning it, the noise that came out was much more pleasant than your attempt earlier. 

“course you would,” the man behind you muttered, and you shot him a grin over your shoulder before adjusting your hands on the instrument. he leaned forward slightly, keeping an eye on your hands and not the way your shirt dipped down the front of your chest slightly. your skin was more exposed, and he could see a constellation of freckles littering your skin. fuck, but he wanted to kiss every single one of them. 

with a sigh, joel began telling you where to place your fingers along the neck for specific chords. he was patient, watching carefully as you figured them out with his help. every time you correctly struck the right chord, it made him grin. he liked seeing you so excited over this mundane activity. the way you were always so enthusiastic, so bright, it just drew him in like a moth to the light. he couldn’t help it. 

you had shifted away from the couch slightly, your back hunched over the instrument as you did you best to play it. you had picked up the simple chords pretty easily, but you were struggling with getting your finger placement correct on the last one joel gave you. joel kept telling you how easy this one was, too, which had started to frustrate you. the man’s hands were easily twice the size of your own, of course he would think it was easy. and you said as much to joel, too, who only chuckled in response. 

“know you can do it, sugar.” he encouraged quietly, scooting over on the couch so that his legs almost bracketed your body. he leaned forward, pulling your upper body back a bit from its slouch as he moved to help you. “keep your arm like this, and then stretch this finger as much as you can. you can move your wrist a little, too.” his rough hands were soon on top of your own, his applying a little more pressure so that he could guide your finger to the correct position. 

finally, you were able to hit the chord right, and you cheered for yourself as you strummed it a couple more times. joel’s hand had slide up your arm gently, resting on the top of your left shoulder while you played. he was still crouched over slightly, but when you turned your head to look at him, you were shocked with how close his face was to yours. 

now that you were facing him though, you could revel in the way his breath was hitting the spot on your neck just right, how it sent goosebumps down your arms and a shiver to your spine. if you tilted your head slightly, you’d bump his nose with your own. your eyes jumped to his, your hand gripping the neck of the guitar so tightly you worried that you were going to snap it. “joel,” you whispered, soft breaths parting from your lips as it opened slightly. 

his dark eyes met yours, and that was it.

you weren’t too sure who moved first. if it was you, dropping the guitar from your lap while you twisted up onto your knees in front of him. if it was him, the hand on your shoulder moving to rest at the base of your neck, squeezing it slightly as he guided you up to his mouth. joel’s thumb caressed your skin softly, and you felt yourself go weak in the knees.  

his mouth slanted across yours, and the feeling of his stubble scratching against your face made you whimper into his mouth softly. his hand tightened around your neck, using the leverage to pull you up from your knees, while his other hand guided you by your hip to straddle one of his legs on the couch. your hands went from his shoulders to his hair to cupping the sides of his face. you could feel him grinning against your lips.

you’ve been kissed before but kissing joel was an entirely new experience. you have never done something that felt so right, so good. you never wanted this to stop. 

your legs adjusted your weight on his thigh, and you felt joel’s grip on your waist tighten as he pressed you down harder. you could feel the rough denim through your thin linen pants, and when joel moved his hand forward, your hip followed in his grip as he rocked you against his thigh. this was a new experience, however. the feeling of his solid thigh pressed against your core, and you suddenly felt much, much hotter. 

“joel,” you whispered again, though it came out in more of a whimper against his lips. his hand rocked you against him again, and yours slid to hold his shoulders and you tested the movement yourself, dragging your hips up his thigh and then back down. another whimper emitted from your lips, and you had half a mind to be embarrassed about the noise, but you were too caught up in the feeling. 

“i know, baby.” his voice was rough against your mouth, and he lowered his lips against yours again, this time angling his head to the side to deepen the kiss. joel tugged on your bottom lip with his teeth, making you gasp softly at the hint of pain before his tongue covered the spot. he took the opportunity of your open mouth to move his tongue in against yours, and you basically crumpled in his lap at how demanding he was as he kissed you. 

your hips had started to steadily move against his thigh on your own, but his big, rough hand was still resting on your hip, his fingers digging little half-moon bruises into your skin as he helped you press a little harder. joel gave your throat one last little squeeze before he moved to the hem of your t-shirt, his fingers slipping underneath ever so slightly. you could feel the calluses on his hands as he trailed them across your stomach lightly, and your breath caught in your throat as he brushed his thumb over the material of your bra, right where your nipple would be. 

you were so overwhelmed by everything joel - his taste, his touch, his smell. you didn’t want to, but you felt yourself struggling to catch a breath, so you pulled away from his mouth slightly, brushing his nose with yours gently. he could feel the little pants coming from your mouth as you exhaled, could hear the smallest of whimpers riding along those exhales as well. everything about you in this moment was working for him, so well that he was trying to think of something ridiculous to stop himself from coming in his damn jeans like a teenager. 

“god, sugar,” he said lowly, trailing his nose across your jaw and down your neck before settling his lips on the base of your throat. the feeling made you giggle softly, but it quickly turned into a louder moan as he started to suck on your skin. “you’re ridin’ my thigh so well, huh?” the compliment had you blushing even more than before. 

you never would’ve imagined that joel, quiet, stoic, joel, would be talking to you like one of the heroes in your romance novels. it was better than anything you could have ever thought of. 

“it feels so good, joel,” you whined, sliding your hand from his shoulder to cup the back of his head. you let your fingers dig into his skin, pulling on the small strands of his hair lightly as you bucked your hips against him. he let out a low groan against your neck, his fingers underneath your shirt pinching the spot his thumb just brushed against. 

he couldn’t help but let out a chuckle. “fuck, i knew you’d be too good to resist. you look so pretty, takin’ what you want from me.” he nipped at your neck, grinning against your skin as you cried out. letting go of your hip, he moved his hand under your shirt with the other one, raising it just enough so that he could see the black bra you were wearing. “can i move this down?” he asked so politely, pressing a small kiss against the skin he just bit.

considering the position you were in, the pleasure this man was making you feel by simply kissing you, you were inclined to let him do whatever he so pleased with you. all you could do was nod your head, give him a small “mhm,” as your eyes started to flutter shut from the tingling sensation happening low in your stomach. 

you heard joel give you a quiet “thank you, baby,” before his hands tugged down the front of your bra. he didn’t bother pulling your shirt off, he didn’t bother taking the bra off entirely. instead, he managed to pull them low enough to have your tits spill over the top, and he bit back a groan before he lowered his mouth to take one of your nipples into his mouth. 

the feeling of his warm mouth against your sensitive skin had you arching your back, pressing your front closer against joel. he slid one of his hands to your lower back, his skin rough against yours, as he encouraged you to move your hips against him. your hand in his hair gripped tightly, practically holding joel against your chest as he nipped and sucked. 

your inner thighs were starting to shake from the movements, and his name was leaving your mouth like a prayer. it only encouraged him more, and he started to softly bounce his leg while you moved against it, giving you even more friction. you felt the heat from your stomach pool to your center, and you weren’t even able to form a coherent thought anymore. you couldn’t help your eyes from squeezing shut, couldn’t help your mouth from falling open, couldn’t help the borderline pornographic moans that emitted from your lips. 

“that’s it, sugar. gonna make yourself cum against my thigh, huh?” joel asked, pulling away from your chest as he watched you with hooded eyes. you were completely lost in the pleasure, could feel yourself soak through your panties with how wet you were becoming. you had never cum like this before, but god this would definitely not be the last time. that was a sentiment that you both had shared. 

“fuck, joel,” you squeaked out, increasing your hips movements against his thigh. his hand on your back gave you support, and he pinched your nipples roughly once more before he gripped your throat and brought your mouth back against his. this kiss was harder, messier, and more urgent than the kiss before. your teeth bumped against his, you felt your lips getting wet with spit, and fuck but you loved it. joel was usually so in control, so calm, and seeing him become so rushed, so frantic, it nearly pushed you to your orgasm alone. 

the thing that did it for you, though, was joel pulling away slightly, your noses brushing together as he offered you quiet words of encouragement. “you’re doing such a good job, just like that, baby. look at you, makin’ a mess on my thigh.” his breath invaded your space, making you gasp as you fought to get air as his hand tightened around your neck. he kissed you once more, just a gentle press of his lips against yours, and you lost it. 

your body curled in on itself as you came, white hot heat flooding your senses as you fell into joel’s chest with a loud cry. you were gripping him tightly, anchoring yourself to him as your body trembled. he held you tightly, brushing your hair back from your sweaty forehead and rubbing his hand up and down your back. he was grinning the entire time, his ego raising indefinitely at the fact that he had been able to make you feel this good. 

your face was pressed in the crook of his neck, and you were surprised to find genuine tears lingering in your eyes. that knowledge had you giggling, and you must have been delirious because you couldn’t stop it from happening. joel tilted his head back. “what the hell are you laughin’ at right now?” he asked, incredulously. he had never had a girl laugh after being with him. 

you could hear the slight panic in his voice, which made you laugh even more, but you sat back. “you made me cry,” you admitted to him, running your fingers underneath your eyes to wipe away the stray tears. joel let out a snort, which had you laughing once again. his thumbs moved to replace your fingers, gently moving across your skin until the wet was cleared up. he leaned up, placing a kiss gently on your forehead. “you okay?” he asked, softly caressing your skin with his hands. 

you bit down on your bottom lip, feeling more than okay, and you gave him a quick nod before taking his mouth with yours. the kiss was soft, but you were well intended to give joel the same amount of affection. your hand had just trailed down his chest, stopping at the waistband of his jeans, when you heard your front door open. 

“hello?” ellie’s voice rang out from the entryway, forcing you and joel apart. you had never moved so quickly, swinging your leg off of his thigh and fixing your top to cover your chest once again. you were still kneeling on the couch near joel when ellie stomped her way into the living room, giving the two of you a weird look. “why are you guys sitting so close to each other?” 

“she had somethin’ in her eye,” joel’s response was so quick, it almost made you snort. “what the hell are you doin’ here, kid? and didn’t i teach you how to knock first?” his irritation was palpable, which you found funny. poor guy was probably seconds away from coming in his pants. 

“geez, sorry. i saw that some of the other guys were back early, and you weren’t home so i figured you’d be here.” she explained, holding her hands up in surrender. joel pinched the bridge of his nose with one hand, trying to get his breathing under control. he had no right to be mad at ellie, and it wasn’t that he was actually mad… he was just trying not to embarrass himself in front of you. 

“why’d you figure that, els?” you asked, loving the fact that ellie knew joel well enough that he would come over here if he wasn’t at home first. even if you guys had just made out on your couch, you still liked the validation that joel maybe, possibly liked you back. 

“where else would he be? he literally never leaves the house unless it’s to come over here, and he hasn’t shut up about you since you first met.” she threw herself down in one of the chairs across the room from you, completely oblivious to the glare joel was shooting her way. 

“oh really?” your voice was teasing as you turned your head to joel, who easily fixated his glare on you. you wiggled on your knees slightly next to him, which caused his eyes to darken. 

“don’t you ‘oh, really?’ me like that. is this how it’s gonna be? the two of you gangin’ up on me from now on? because i don’t think i like it very much.” he slouched back against the couch, folding his arms across his chest. 

“yes, you do.” you and ellie chirped back at the same time, giving each other a grin as joel shook his head. he muttered something under his breath before standing up, adjusting his jeans as he did. ellie hopped up from her chair, too, rubbing her hands on her stomach. “can we get something from the tipsy bison? i’m starving.” 

“sure, kid.” joel responded, ruffling her hair as she passed by him. she didn’t even bother to wave goodbye before she moved out the front door, leaving joel and you alone again. he glanced at the door until it was shut before turning back your way, placing his hand under your chin to lift your gaze up to him.

“we’ll talk about this later, yeah?” he asked, his brown eyes soft as they focused on your face. you simply nodded, finding yourself shifting up on your knees so that you could kiss him one more time. joel sighed as you did, nipping at your bottom lip before pulling away. he bid you a goodnight before he followed ellie out of your house. 

sinking back into the couch cushions, you couldn’t help but let yourself freak out for a moment. never in your wildest dreams did you anticipate your evening taking a turn like this, and you were looking forward to seeing joel again so that you could talk. hopefully, talking isn’t the only thing we do, you thought, the grin on your face wider than ever. 

after kissing joel miller, it was decided. you were falling harder and harder for that man, and you didn’t mind it a single bit. 

tag list *:·ﾟ@yyiikes @farintonorth @scarletsloveletter @miss-celestial-being @thatgingefromtheinternet @javicstories @marianita195 @feliciab1990

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[ttzamara]

Truth or Truth

(Tech x Reader (18+))

(Warnings: SMUT, Minors DNI, Sub!Tech x reader, P in V, unsafe sex (Wrap it before you tap it kids), oral, masturbation, tit fucking, slight choking, language, Alcohol consumption) !English is not my first language!

I take requests for the CW/TBB Boys! (:

6.928 words and 37.49k characters

79's was full. With 3 battalions present who had just arrived or had recently returned, the bar was even more crowded than usual, but who could blame them?

The atmosphere was good, drunk regs getting more and more drunk, many regs dancing with the other guests, couples making out in front of the toilets and couples just waiting to leave this bar to throw themselves at each other.

It wasn't often that Clone force 99 was on Coruscant and even less that they liked to have fun around the Regs, but the Clone Bar was always the perfect place to have fun. Since Wrecker had begged for 17 standard days that we would go here and had even remarked that he would buy the first round, none of you had said no, of course. Who would say no to free drinks?

The boys and you had already drunk a lot. Hunter was about to pass out, but who could blame him, his senses were the most sensitive, but that didn't stop a pretty drunk Wrecker, a pretty tipsy Tech and a drunk Echo from teasing him and getting him even more drunk. Crosshair also teased him for a while, but after a while and a poke in the ribs from you, he turned away and started talking to you.

"We have never seen you in a dress before".

he said and sipped at his drink while pointing at your dark red dress.

"I've never really had a dress before, my little sister gave it to me for my birthday and since it's been hanging in my closet for a while I thought I should try it on."

you said and crossed your legs while looking over at the others.

"And the dress doesn't happen to be in our squad's red because of one of my brothers," he said with a teasing smirk, looking over at his brother before looking at you with a grin.

"First of all Cross, the dress is in the color because I got it after I joined you guys and the dress isn't for Tech either."

you said, noticing how Crosshair looked at his brother. Fortunately, the others were still involved in their own conversation and didn't notice what you were talking about.

"I never said I was talking about Tech."

he said, taking a sip of his drink while leaning back with a grin. Shit.

"Neither did I, but why don't you drink alcohol at all?"

Your poor attempt to change the topic of this conversation didn't go unnoticed by him and Crosshair, the little shit, was about to protest when Wrecker suddenly spoke up.

"We should play truth or dare!"

He said loudly and grinned at all of you. Echo groaned and looked annoyed at Wrecker and Tech didn't look too convinced either, Hunter looked at wrecker and nodded his head grinning. That boy was really drunk to the core.

"Truth or dare? I don't think is a good idea when we, especially hunter, are so drunk"

you said, looking at the long-haired sergeant who was glaring at you. The others Echo, Tech and also Crosshair nodded while Wrecker looked pouting at Hunter.

"Then truth or truth"

Wrecker said, and he and Hunter looked at you pleadingly. The others didn't seem so averse to the idea and looked at you too.

"We can play truth or truth, but on the marauder...I don't think it would go well here."

you said, pointing to the crowded area, which was getting more crowded the later it got.

The others agreed and finished the rest of their drinks before everyone got up and headed to 79's entrance to finally head out. The booth you were sitting in was occupied right after you got up, a bunch of wolfpack boys sliding directly into the seats and grinning at you.

The air outside the club was refreshing in contrast to the sweaty alcoholic air inside. Hunter put an arm around you with a grin and gave you a peck on the cheek.

"Glad you came along."

he slurred, looking at you happily. It's a wonder what alcohol does to people, but the guys deserve it after being off-world for the last 213 standard days.

The Marauder was cooler than usual after Echo left the door open so 'maybe the stench would go away a little' which of course it didn't.

After Tech turned on some lights and Crosshair got some leftover alcohol so you guys could still drink, everyone sat on the floor in a circle.

"Alright, I'll start. Echo how's it going with the Twi'Lek you once told us about?"

Said Wrecker and everyone looked at a blushing Echo who scratched his neck in embarrassment. Had he told you that?

"It's going quite well, she's unfortunately not on Coruscant at the moment but we keep in touch."

he said and smiled a little, she really seemed to be something special for him.

"Okay, uh, Hunter, where's the weirdest place you've had sex?"

Asked Echo and you looked at him slightly shocked, that was a pretty quick 180° turn and then from Echo? geez.

Hunter grinned and took a sip of his spotchka.

"Probably in the warehouse of the clinic"

"The clinic warehouse? That's not very clean, especially for the medical stuff."

Tech said and looked at his brother critically, of course he would think about it despite his drunken state. Typical

"Oh shush. but now that you mention it so nicely tech, one thing you're into when you're having sex."

the sergeant said with a grin and looked at his brother knowingly. Oh maker, what was he up to now?

Tech mumbled something under his breath. Hunter looked wide-eyed at his brother, shocked at what he had just heard.

"What did you say, Tech? I'm afraid we couldn't hear."

Crosshair said, smirking at him. The little shit knew exactly what his brother had said, a thing confessed one night under high alcohol influence, a thing that he would never forget.

Tech glared at his youngest brother and narrowed his eyes before sighing in annoyance.

"I said, I like overstimulation."

Hunter started to protest, but he didn't say what Tech had actually just said, knowing that it apparently made him uncomfortable.

"Wrecker, have you ever caught one of us doing something but never said you saw it?"

Tech said, grinning slightly at Crosshair, who was now looking at the genius with a firm look. Wrecker, however, didn't notice the somber exchange of glances and sat up straight.

"I once caught Crosshair having sex on Echo's bed."

The aforementioned brother spat out his spotchka and looked at the gray-haired sniper, who gave Wrecker a sour look.

"On my bed?! Why would u even do that?!?"

Echo asked, looking at his brother with a bitter look. There was so much he had already experienced because of Fives and now he was experiencing that again here?

Crosshair sighed in annoyance and looked to Echo.

"Calm down, I changed all the sheets afterwards."

You wondered if that was true? But it seemed to calm Echo down.

" It's my turn, (y/n) have you ever had a thing with one of the regs?"

Wrecker asked, looking at you curiously. The others also looked at you with interest.

You were constantly on the move within different battalions during your training as a combat medic. Mostly with the Foxtrot guys, but you also saw the Torent Company, the wolfpack and the Corrie Guard men.

"With one, yes."

You said and smiled ashamedly. The guys looked at you with open mouths, knowing that they didn't really like any of the Regs, it was a little awkward to tell them.

"Anyway, Crosshair have you ever been rejected by anyone?"

You asked and looked at him questioningly, he had a big ego and that was one of the questions that tugged at it. Too embarrassing that he would ever actually admit such a thing.

"No."

He said and a slight blush rose to his ears as he turned his gaze to his glass. Hunter chuckled and looked amused at his youngest brother, who then looked at him fiercely.

"(y/n) which of the regs did you sleep with?"

Crosshair fired at you, now looking at you with a smirk. Maker, you should have known he was going to ask you again and this time you couldn't even avoid the question.

"One of the Foxtrot boys from the 212th battalion."

Crosshair looked at you with raised eyebrows and leaned his head slightly to the side. You sighed

"Captain Gregor."

"Don't I know him."

Echo said and the others nodded in agreement, phew! Crosshair shook his head in disgust and filled his glass with another drink.

Gregor was a good friend, maybe a little more than a friend, but the others didn't need to know that and after he was killed on Abafar it wasn't something you liked to talk about anyway.

"Tech, what do you look for in partners?"

you asked the genius sitting to your right, noticing how he momentarily stiffened.

"Uhh, My partner should get along well with my brothers, be loyal, be helpful, be kind-hearted, be interested in what people around her are interested in, and preferably also be intelligent, so she usually understands what I'm saying. Especially since intelligence is quite attractive in general"

Answered the brown-haired man and the redness rose up his face. Crosshair looked at him for a moment before his eyes widened briefly and looked over at you.

Tech looked up at you briefly and smiled nervously at you. Cute how he talked about this topic and he was right with the statement. Intelligence is sexy.

The evening continued with some embarrassing but also funny questions and at a certain point you leaned your head slightly against Tech's shoulder.

Tech briefly looked down at you to see if you were still awake or already asleep, but you seemed wide awake. A slight red glow on your cheeks from the alcohol and slightly smeared make-up around your eyes from all the laughing, but you were as beautiful as ever.

The brown-haired man put his left hand lightly on your thigh, just above the knee, so as not to cross a line that would make you uncomfortable in any way.

You clutched his arm lightly with your right arm and looked up at him for a moment, only to see that he was already staring at you.

But you didn't think anything of it, too carried away by the alcohol that you only grinned at him and then continued to focus on the game.

"Tech, when was the last time you masturbated?"

Hunter asked, even drunker than he was earlier in the club, but clearly more awake.

"Twenty-three standard days ago."

He said matter-of-factly and looked up.

"Twenty-three days ago? That long?"

Wrecker said shocked and you giggled at his astonishment, it seemed the rest of them were really a bunch of rabbit's that couldn't go long without sexual interaction.

"Yes, Twenty-three standard days. masturbation does have some health benefits like boosting your immune system by increasing cortisol, lifting your mood by releasing dopamine and oxytocin, and also helping you fall asleep by releasing serotonin, prolactin and also oxytocin to the brain. Nevertheless, I do not see it as an importance.

He said and then took a sip of his drink, While the others just looked at him stupidly.

"Sleep, one of the things you might want to consider sometime when we're on missions."

you said, lifting your head from his shoulder to look at him urgently. He just shook his head and looked at echo.

"Echo, have you ever used your scomp-link for anything else?"

Tech now asked, looking knowingly at a blushing Echo. Echo looked sheepishly at the ceiling of the ship and the other guys burst out laughing.

You, too, couldn't help but smile in amusement. Tech rolled his eyes mockingly, but relaxed again when he noticed how you unconsciously began to draw shapes on the back of his hand with your fingers.

Echo cleared his throat and looked apologetically at Tech, knowing that he was the one who always cleaned and repaired his scomp-link. Echo looked from you to Tech and spoke:

"(y/n) what is your favorite sex position?"

Your unconscious movement stopped briefly but started again after a few seconds.

"Mhh, I would say cowgirl?"

Tech inwardly choked on his breath. Cowgirl?

Oh maker, the thought of what you would look like riding him suddenly entered his head.

How he would hold your hips while you would slowly move up and down, how you would look into his eyes, with those beautiful (e/c) eyes. He loved your eyes so much, so much that he could drown in them for hours.

He loved so much how your eyes gleam with interest while you listen to him, how they glare at him when he hasn't closed his eyes all night. How they would stare at him worriedly when he was somehow injured during a fight. Oh those eyes

He inwardly insulted himself as he felt a familiar warmth move down his spine. But the thought of you dropping your head back and pinching your eyes shut as you moan his name never left his mind.

He glanced briefly over at Hunter, curious if he had noticed any of his brother's arousal, but the long-haired sergeant was far too drunk and too busy to nod of on his brothers shoulder to realize anything.

He straightened up slightly and crossed his legs to hide his hard-on, afterwards he looked down at you sitting there and leaning against him, enjoying yourself with his brothers.

Tech was the last to really befriend you, too jealous of the new intelligent member who was getting all the attention from his brothers. But after a while you started hanging out with him and asked him questions, but what surprised him more was that you were actually listening.

A loud yawn interrupted the conversation and wrecker looked at the clock next to the fresher door. 04:37am

"That was a great evening, good night".

Wrecker stood up and looked at all of us, only then noticing how hunter was asleep hanging on Crosshair's shoulder. Sighing he stepped over one of the glasses to pick up the sleeping sergeant and carry him to his bunk.

"Well then I'll say goodbye for today too, I have to check in with the clinic again tomorrow or today whatever, so we can restock for the next mission."

you said and slowly stood up while leaning on Tech's shoulder. Tech held your leg momentarily as you stumbled slightly and you gave him a grateful smile.

After you went to the bunks, the other two stood up as well.

"Aren't you going to bed Tech?"

Echo asked, looking at his brother questioningly, but he remained sitting on the floor with his legs crossed and picked up his datapad.

"No, not yet, I wanted to do some calcuations."

He said and turned his attention to the device. Echo sighed, but then walked wearily to the back of the ship. Crosshair looked at his older brother with a grin.

"And you don't stay seated because a random word earlier took you completely out of the world?"

Crosshair asked mockingly, pointing at Tech's crossed legs with a grin. Tech looked up at his brother with red cheeks.

"Nothing threw me out of the world."

He said stubbornly and looked Crosshair firmly in the eye. Said brother chuckled teasingly and leaned against the wall.

"Oh yeah, sorry, you didn't stare at her for a good 10 minutes while getting a boner and then crossed your legs even though we both know you hate sitting like that."

he said, taking his toothpick out of his mouth to flick it at him. Tech sneered and looked annoyed at his brother.

"Oh, before I forget, she loves giving head!"

Crosshair said, grinning and looking at his brother who grunted and clenched his eyes tightly shut.

"Copaani mirshmure'cye, osi'kovid? Usen'ye!!!" (Are you looking for a smack in the face, shithead? Go away!!!)

Tech said and looked sourly at the silver-haired sniper, who just laughed and joined the others in bed.

After Crosshair left, Tech went to the cockpit. Why would he even say that when he knows how Tech felt about you, of course he was aware that his arousal amused the sniper, but c'mon.

Tech closed the cockpit door and sat down in the pilot's chair, but the calculations he wanted to make didn't make any sense in his head.

All the attention that had once been focused on his datapad was now on his brother's words. 'she loves giving head' 'she loves giving head' 'she loves giving head' MAKER!

He put his datapad on his thigh and squeezed his eyes shut, hoping he could focus again. But all he could think of were those words.

He sighed in defeat, but it had been Twenty-three days since he had been able to relax for the last time. Too busy with his projects, too busy with the last mission and more importantly, too little privacy. The chance that he would be caught was too high, but now that everyone was pretty drunk he was sure that all of you would be fast asleep.

He closed his eyes and leaned further back in the chair before taking his goggles off his head and rubbing his hands over his eyes. The cockpit was pitch black, he almost couldn't even see his own hand, because apart from the small blinking light from his glasses, not a single light was on in the ship or even in the hangar.

He was not the biggest fan of alcohol, but he enjoyed the peaceful time with you and his brothers even more, especially with you. The dress you wore looked stunning.

And when you leaned against him during the game he could have sworn that his heart was about to jump out of his chest. The places where you touched felt cold and he longed for your touch.

The way you kept looking up at him during the game made him crazy, He always knew your eyes were beautiful, But the difference between knowing it and seeing them in person is the difference between dreaming of flying and flight.

Tech's thoughts stopped at your eyes. And there were those words again, once dispelled but they reappeared and he couldn't even complain about it. 'She loves giving head'

His eyes were still closed, too deep in his dreams and instead of resurfacing he let himself fall.

His right hand slid slowly to his pants and he slid with little pressure over the bulge that pressed firmly against the fabric of his blacks. A soft grunt fell over his lips before he sighed softly.

He slid his hand under the fabric of his blacks and ran his finger over the wet tip of his cock to spread the precum slightly. He took his hand off his pants to spit on it and with his other hand pulled the pants down to the end of his shaft.

The cold air sent goose bumps over his body, but he couldn't care less. He began to stroke his cock up and down with his right hand, the saliva smoothing the movement. A satisfied grunt left his mouth and his eyes closed tighter.

He imagined you sitting on your knees in front of him, looking at him with sparkling eyes as you stroked his cock with firm movements and gave him one of your breathtaking smiles. A breathy moan escaped his lips, louder than before, and his hips began to move in rhythm with his hand.

Tech saw you lick his cock from base to tip before you took his tip in your mouth and started sucking lightly. His hand moved faster and he began to moan softly, his other hand slid lightly over his nipples and an electric shock traveled down his back, eliciting a louder moan.

"Shit!"

he whimpered and his left hand went down to his balls to play lightly with them. A loud moan escaped his lips and his back arched against the seat.

His movements became faster and faster, Tech imagined you saying his name and taking his cock deeper into your mouth, your hands slowly moving up his thighs until you could start fondling his balls with one hand and start following the movements of your mouth with the other.

"Oh god, please"

His breathing became more frantic and he felt so close, the band in his stomach tightened more and more his leg started to wobble up and down, causing the datapad to fall off his leg and hit the floor with a loud thud.

His hands became faster, more irregular and he had to pull himself together to keep his moans as quiet as possible. His whimpering came uncontrollably and his head fell back with a gasp.

"Oh god (y/n) please, fuck."

His rhythm faltered and stopped, only hearing the squelshing sound of his hand moving and the knot pulled tight, tighter tighter tighter and he prepared to let go. His hand passed over his nipples again and he was read-.

"Tech?"

You asked, knocking on the cockpit door. Tech, startled, dropped his hand from his cock and whimpered, he was so close. Shit

He quickly put his cock back into his pants and cleared his throat, the pulsing sensation against the fabric of his pants was almost painful. He picked up the datapad and took it firmly in his hand

"Mhh?"

He said quietly through the cockpit door and with a whoosh the door opened. You stepped in through the door and squinted your eyes slightly to make him out in the darkness.

"Are you okay? I just heard a loud thud when I came out of the Feesher."

You asked, walking slowly in his direction, careful not to trip over anything.

Tech slowly turned around to you and saw the shirt you were wearing, were you just wearing the shirt? The twitch of his cock in his pants pulled him out of his thoughts, he carefully leaned the datapad over his pelvis.

"Yes everything is okay, I just accidentally dropped the datapad".

He answered your question and you leaned skeptically against the co-pilot seat. It was still dark, but your eyes had adjusted enough to the darkness to see that his cheeks were flushed and his breathing was relatively quick.

"Okay, I can't really sleep, wrecker's snoring is incredibly loud... it's a wonder the others can sleep at all, but with the amount they've all been drinking it's not that unlikely."

you said and carefully took his goggles from the seat and put them on the seat behind the pilot seat before sliding into the seat next to him.

Tech was silent, his erection pressed firmly against the fabric of his pants and his leg began to wiggle up and down again.

For a while it was just silent and Tech didn't even have a clue what he was doing, he had been staring at the same page for a good 10 minutes and the light from the device falling on his face disturbed him somehow.

"Tech"

you said softly and Tech flinched, the memory of his earlier imagination almost making him grunt. He turned slightly in your direction and looked at you, you were sitting on the chair with your head leaning back and your gaze fixed on the hangar.

He indicated with his hand that you had his attention, watching you blink rapidly and chew lightly on your lip before clearing your throat.

"You said my name earlier."

The brown haired man looked at you in panic, his hands started to sweat and the datapad in his hand was about to fall out of his hand again until you took it out of his hand.

"It doesn't bother me, you know?"

you said and leaned out a bit to look at him with a piercing gaze. Tech's mouth dropped open, did you really just say that?

"What were you thinking about?"

He had never heard you speak so boldly before, and only now did he notice that you had a clear view of his bulge. He had noticed in a panic that the datapad you had taken away from him was the only thing covering his cock.

He cleared his throat and looked at you sheepishly.

"I- Uh. Well after you asked what your favorite sex position was earlier I couldn't think of anything else and Crosshair said something earlier too and since then I couldn't get it out of my head and then- well yeah."

"What were you thinking about?"

you said again and Tech realized that you really wanted to know what he was thinking about while he was moaning your name.

"I imagined you kneeling in front of me."

he said softly and scratched his neck while watching you. But you showed no reaction, he was afraid he had crossed a line and just as you started to get up he started to apologize, but you moved in front of him.

Your knees touched his and Tech fell silent. He looked up at you nervously waiting for something, anything, a twitch of your eyes but nothing.

Until you suddenly started to grin.

The brown-haired man leaned his head to the side and looked at you in confusion. His eyes widened when he saw you kneeling in front of him.

"Wha-"

"Like this?"

You asked with a slight smile, oh god that smile. Tech shuddered in his seat and nodded speechlessly.

"And then what?"

"You started jerking me off."

He said and his leg bobbed up and down nervously. He watched as you ran your hands up his thighs and looked at him questioningly, after he nodded you carefully tugged down his blacks.

His cock stood up proudly and slapped lightly against his abdomen. Tech grunted slightly as you brought your hand lightly to his shaft. His cock was nice, a little longer than average but not too long, a little wider but not too thick.

You spit lightly into your hand and began stroking it slowly up and down. Tech grunted in satisfaction and looked at you with a hooded gaze.

"Please faster!"

He begged you and bucked his hips forward slightly. You giggled slightly and quickened your movements, a breathy moan slipping over his lips.

Your touch felt so incredibly intense. It triggered a much stronger feeling than he could ever create himself. Because after only a few minutes he was again so close to his release.

"I want to come, I want to come please?".

The brown haired man didn't know why he even asked, but his back arched strongly away from the seat and he felt like his back was about to break. His head pressed tightly against the back of the seat and his eyes squinted tightly shut.

Your movements became faster and one of your hands began to play firmly with his balls. A high-pitched moan came deep from his throat and he began to moan uncontrollably. He muttered broken words under his breath and he gasped.

Your hands didn't break their rhythm and Tech could feel the knot tighten tighter than ever.

"Look at me Tech."

He looked down at you hesitantly his eyes fell shut and you lightly slapped one of his balls, tech whimpered before opening his eyes and looking at you.

"Cum for me Pretty boy"

The compliment and the way you said those words shot him right over the edge. Small breathy moans fell over his lips as his cum shot onto your hand and also onto his Shirt.

But your movements didn't stop and Tech twitched back and forth from the overstimulation and one of his hands tried to push your hand away from him. He heard a soft click and looked down at you again, still overwhelmed by the persistent movements.

In one of your hands were his stun-cuffs and he grunted in shock as you suddenly tied his hands tightly behind the chair.

"What are you doing?"

he asked, groaning again as you took your hand off him to lick his cum off your hand. He dropped his head back from the sight momentarily and groaned before looking at you again questioningly.

The brown haired man watched as you pulled your shirt over your head, you had no bra on, the look was divine. How you knelt in front of him in just your panties and looked at him with a smile.

"Ready for more?"

You asked softly and he nodded frantically which made you giggle. His cock was still hard and he twitched in anticipation of what was about to come.

You leaned forward slightly, your hair sliding in your face slightly, and licked a strip from his base up to the tip of his cock, tech shivering as you licked at his sensitive cock.

"How are the cuffs?"

You asked, looking at him with a gentle gaze. He jiggled them slightly and then looked down at you with a smile,

"They fit well, not too tight but not loose enough that I could free myself in any way. I must still say that I have a large desire to touch you".

he remarked and your hand closed around his cock. As long as he could talk normally the job wasn't finished, just the way he raised his eyebrow and looked at you with a lecturing look.

"If you look at it that way Tech, I'm touching you because my hand is currently around your cock".

blood shot up the brown haired man's cheeks and he looked at you sheepishly.

"I don't mean your touch in general. I mean me touching you- Ohhhh"

He groaned as you put his cock in your mouth. Definitely a way to shut him up.

Your mouth felt so warm, so wet and so soft... if that's what your mouth felt like, then how would you feel?

You began to take him deeper into your mouth until the tip of his mouth touched your throat, his hips bucked forward slightly causing you to gag. Tech apologized with a moan, but you didn't let him stop you and started moving your mouth up and down with a steady rhythm.

One of your hands pressed Tech's hips against the seat and he whimpered at the loss of movement. Your other hand began to jerk him off with the rhythm of your mouth and the brown-haired man's moans grew louder.

"You are so good, fuck more please".

he moaned and let his head fall back gasping, he was embaressed that he was so close again after such a short time, but your mouth was heavenly

Tech started to protest when you suddenly took your mouth off his shaft. But he fell silent as you changed your sitting position, sat upright on your knees so that your breasts were level with his pelvis and slid between his legs closer to him.

You let a drop of spit fall between your breasts and took tech his cock closer to you to stick it between your breasts. Tech growled at the feeling of your soft breasts around his cock.

"Come on pretty boy, fuck my tits".

Your voice was a little lower than usual and he could see your dilated pupils. The sight of you and his cock between your breasts was a sight for sore eyes.

The brown-haired man started to move his hips in a thrusting rhythm and his arms flexed behind the chair. Maker

Your hands pressed your breasts tightly together as Tech moved freely up and down, the tip of his cock touching your chin again and again, which is why after a short while you stuck your tongue out and licked the tip lightly.

Tech twitched as his release came closer and closer, he had never heard himself verbally like that before, but you felt so good in every way. He groaned as his rhythm got out of control and he began to thrust frantically up and down.

The heat tightened in his belly and the rope began to knot tightly, but just when he thought he could come, all stimulation was suddenly gone and he whimpered as he arched against the chair.

"No, no, no whyyyyyy?"

he asked whimpering and bucked his hips urgently in the air to get any kind of stimulation. You struck a warning blow on his thigh and he groaned.

"Aren't you going to ask if you can come now? That's not nice tech, only bad boys do that."

you said and stood up to take his chin in your hand. Tech swallowed nervously and looked pleadingly into your eyes.

"I can be a good boy, please."

he pleaded and tears began to form in his eyes as a result of the denied orgasm. You smiled proudly at him and brushed a loose strand of hair from his face.

"Please what?"

you asked mockingly, looking at him playful. But Tech didn't seem to catch your playful gaze and squeezed out a rough "Please ma'am."

"Can you also be good enough for me and come together with me? Can you be a good boy?"

you asked him and he nodded with a groan.

You threw your legs over his and sat down on the brown-haired man's lap. Your hand pulled his face down to you and you looked into his eyes.

His golden eyes were almost black, but they still radiated as much comfort as usual, his gaze softened to admiration as he stared at you. His gaze lowered to your lips

He was so incredibly handsome, you stroked his cheekbones and pulled him closer to you. Your lips were only a few centimeters apart, tech leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours.

His lips were soft and unlike the situation you were in, the kiss was slow, romantic, emotional and a strong feeling of happiness exploded in your stomach.

Your hands went under his shirt and you pulled it up slightly, but the handcuffs prevented you from taking off his last piece of clothing.

Tech giggled against your lips and you parted your lips from his, grinning. You leaned back past his waist to undo the cuffs and freed his hands. Tech rubbed his hands briefly, the red imprints of the handcuffs coming from all the pulling.

"You okay?"

you asked, looking at his joints to check for any permanent injuries. But Tech pulled his hands out of your grip and pulled his shirt over his head before placing his hands on your hips.

"I'm more than okay."

He said breathlessly, grinning as you relaxed despite his almost painful erection. But that didn't stop him from kissing you again, your tongue slipping into his mouth and fighting victoriously against his. He parted with a light sigh and looked at you sweetly.

You grinned at him before taking his cock in your hand, tugging your panties to the side and rubbing it against your wet entrance, Tech moaned and it got louder as you slowly inserted his cock.

"Shit, you feel so good Ma'am".

He said and dropped his head against the back of the seat, his hands tightening around your hips and he had to pull himself together not to come right away.

Your lips found his neck and pressed soft kisses against his throat, after a few kisses you slowly began to playfully nip and suck his neck. Knowing that you were leaving Marks turned him on even more than he already was and he slowly started grinding your hips against him.

The sensation made him growl and your facade dropped momentarily as a soft moan came from your mouth. Tech was sure he could hear that sound for the rest of his life without getting tired of it. Maker

You straightened up and slowly began to ride him, his grip on your hips loosened and one of his hands went down to your butt with a smack. His head straightened up and his lips enclosed one of your nipples to lick and suck on it. Tech moaned as your hands pulled on the hair at the nape of his neck and bit nekishly into the flesh above your nipple.

Your pace quickened and your lips found his again in a teeth-clashing, tongue-dancing kiss.

Tech started moaning uncontrollably with your movements and he moaned so loud that you thought the whole hangar could hear him.

"You have to be quiet for me Cyar'ika, or I have to get you to be more quiet,"

you said and the genius groaned at the term of endearment. But your warning seemed either not to interest him or just not possible for him.

Your hand found his throat and you pressed lightly against his airway. Tech looked at you with a hooded gaze before dropping his head back against the backrest and groaning breathlessly as he squeezed his eyes shut.

The fire in his belly was so close to exploding, he couldn't suppress his moan, and the new sensation of the encapsulation of his airway tightened the knot a bit more.

His hips began to thrust against your rhythm and his eyes rolled back into his skull. His moans began to break and scattered tears ran from his eyes, his breath was quite erratic and his normally neat hair strands stuck sporadically to his face.

"I can't, I need to cum please, Too much please, Shit"

he slurred and moaned loudly as you clenched around him. The sweat made you shine so extraordinarily erotic, he grunted harshly.

"Come for me ner karta"

you said softly and moved your fingers down to your clit to circle it tightly. You moaned Techs name desperately and that was all Tech needed to explode.

A way too loud moan of your name left his mouth and he arched away from the chair so hard you could hear it crack. He began to tremble and his breathing quickened frantically, too overstimulated to even notice that you came right after him.

----------

After the blackness disappeared from his eyes he looked around, you were no longer on him, nor beside him. Had he dreamed that?

A slight whoosh pulled him out of his daze and he saw you come into the cockpit with a glass, you already had your shirt on and were slowly walking towards tech.

"Hello love, are you okay? You were completely gone for a few minutes."

You said, looking at him with concern before putting the water glass in his hand.

"I've never been better"

he slurred tiredly and looked at you with an loving grin. You looked at him with a smile and stroked his hair out of his face.

You helped him get dressed, at least his greys, and then quietly helped him go to the back of the ship where the others were still snoring quietly or in wreckers case loudly.

"Sleep with me"

he whispered softly and pulled you to him by the hips. You put your arms around his neck and placed a soft kiss on his lips.

"You need a real night of sleep Cyar'ika and not just for a few hours".

you whispered and looked at him urgently

"I can sleep well when you are with me, please."

He whispered pleadingly and looked at you with wide eyes you sighed and nodded in agreement. But instead of following him to his bed you pulled him to yours. His bed was full of small stuff from his experiments and you certainly didn't want to sleep on it.

You lay down in the bed and Tech sat on the edge of your bed for a moment. His eyebrows drew together momentarily as he looked at Crosshair, no he had imagined that, he was asleep.

He turned over with a soft sigh and lay down with you, his arms hugging your hips and his head finding a place on your breasts.

"Sleep well ner sarad"

he whispered softly, you pressed him closer to you and noticed after a few minutes that he was fast asleep.

He looked so peaceful, he really needed the sleep and you could see it on his face. His wrinkles completely relaxed and non-existent, his breath calm and quiet, some drool ran out of the left corner of his mouth and you grinned slightly.

You sigh and close your eyes, you couldn't have asked for anything better. It may have been a bit much, but in the future it would go right.

-----------------

"Try to be louder next time, maybe all of Couscant will hear you".

said a harshly amused voice across from your bed.

"Not all of Coruscant, but the whole system."

said an annoyed voice below you.

You looked in shock at the silver haired sniper lying across your bed looking at you in amusement, he looked at you with wide eyes and imitated Tech with a playful moan.

Scattered mocking moans came from Crosshair and the boy under your bed and tech began to move slightly.

"Crosshair shut up and sleep and echo, I expect this from Crosshair and wrecker, maybe from hunter but not from you. You rat"

you whispered urgently and gave crosshair a fierce look, both of them started snickering.

"All of you shut the fuck up and sleep, this howling has kept me awake long enough."

Said the firm voice of an already Hungover Hunter. Oops

Taglist:

Thank you for reading Love!

#the bad batch #the clone wars #star wars the clone wars #star wars fanfiction #sub!male #clone saga #leave some love #star wars #tbb fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #tcw #tech #tbb x reader #tbb tech #clones x reader #clone trooper echo #wreckers #sw tcw #sw the bad batch #sw the clone wars #iwrotethisforlike10hoursstraight #clone wars #bad batch

[theoneandonlygothicrainbow]

Why Huntlow’s Body Positivity Representation is Important

Trigger warning for eating disorders and suicide.

Huntlow features a relationship between a plus sized girl and a skinny boy, and the skinny boy is the one to fall for the girl first. I honestly can’t think of any other examples where something like this happens. And it sucks because we need more relationships like this.

Many people, especially women, struggle with loving themselves and their bodies, which often results in eating disorders. Many people end up dying because of them, either because they starve themselves or they end up ending their own life.

A lot of it is to blame on society for enforcing toxic beauty standards, as it makes people feel they have to look a certain way. This is especially common in the realms of romance, where women think they need a specific type of body in order to date someone.

All bodies are beautiful. That’s not debatable. But we definitely need to show bodies that aren’t traditionally beautiful. Hunter loves Willow, who is not traditionally beautiful. And they don’t preach it either. They state it as it is, because it should be considered normal.

Body positivity representation is more than just representation. It’s something important that could literally save lives. I could see people watching TOH and feeling more confident because they saw Huntlow. It shows how everyone, no matter their body type, can find love.

#the owl house #toh #toh hunter #hunter #hunter noceda #the owl house hunter #hunter x willow #huntlow #the owl house specials #toh season three

[sansxfuckyou]

bitten, smitten- what's the difference?

Summary: He's been waiting so long for this moment

He can't go through with it

Warnings: Swearing, stuff that's suggestive because one of them is a vampire, small identity crisis, light drinking, check Ao3 port for full tags

Authors Note: I have once again written a ballroom dance scene that follows no rhyme or rhythm. anyways, I went insane over the vampire hunter Mysterion/vampire Kyle that @kennysdeadbody drew, and I am once again asking everyone to go look at his art because its good. and if ya'll enjoyed consider dropping a reblog or checking out the Ao3 port

There are three simple rules to being a vampire hunter, all of which Mysterion has been following since the first day he got his hands on a wooden stake and a silver bullet.

Rule number one: if they aren't dead, then you are, finish the job at all costs even if the cost is your life.

Rule number two: never verbalize your full name unless it's for something off duty, even at that.

Rule number three: Mysterion broke rule number three, don't fall for their charming ways no matter what.

Who can blame him either, the ever elusive Kyle Broflovski has men dying at his feet. He's slept with every monster in the encyclopedia and somehow Mysterion finds himself shocked the charm worked on him. A vampire, his sworn enemy in life, the plague he hopes to purge alongside his other companions in the business. Of all monsters, he could tolerate falling in love with a werewolf because their monstrous aspects only show once a month, but a vampire? That's full time.

Still, he's spent a year living in the town that Kyle inhabits, aware he runs the town behind the scenes. He has old money, all the power he holds is old power, inherited like everything else he has. He holds grand parties sometimes, the old style, like his town is a locked ten, twenty, thirty, forty years behind the rest of the world. And Mysterion knows he's fibbing when he says that, but he knows for the fact that the wine doesn't taste this fine outside of this town, the air isn't as clear, and the water as velvety on his throat.

He waits, tends to the crops under a different false name, Kenny, a nickname his old partner gave him before dying in the line of duty. He waits so very, very patiently for the day that he gets a chance to attend one of those grand balls that the vampire holds once more. It's not like people doubt he's a vampire, they all know he is, he's shockingly open about it. He's Kyle Broflovski, this town is his bitch, and Mysterion is his only predator who dares to set foot in his town. He flaunts his immortality, offers free food to those too poor to buy it themselves, let's those who needs a quick buck or a place to rest stay in his castle.

And he never gives a lethal bite.

There isn't a single recorded lethal bite that the hunter can find town records on, but he knows it isn't because Kyle doesn't bite. Every single vampire needs to feed, to drain a human till they die or else the vampire will die. It's common knowledge, they all have a bloodlust, unmistakably so, it's what makes them vampires. They need to drink at least once a year or else they'll go rabid and after the craze, then they keel over.

The invitation arrives when he's packing his bags, getting ready to leave because luck hasn't been kind to him so far like it has in the past. He's wearing a shitty orange hoodie, scratched and dirty through years of use when off duty, and the mailman just hands him the letter wordlessly.

"Thanks man," Kenny answered with stiffly.

"It's just my job," And they're pivoting on a heel to leave before Kenny can say anything else.

He shuts the door and slides open the envelope, he tosses aside the paper casing gently. He meanders over to the kitchen and leans on the counter as he reads.

A masquerade ball shall be held on the Friday evening of October thirteenth, and you are invited as is the rest of the town. Please come with a plate of appetizers if you can manage, I fear for my main chefs health and don't want to overwork her. Arrive with a mask at the very least to keep your identity sealed, my doors are open if you so desire to stay the night in the case of drinking too much. And in the spirit of Friday the thirteenth, I'll be feeding upon someone, chosen in the usual fashion and without lethal consequences.

As always, I hope for a turnout with how fun they've been in the past, sincerely, Kyle Broflovski.

Kenny gives an amused hum, he was there last time Kyle fed at one of his balls. Someone was taken away and didn't return back to town until the next day, and Kyle returned with blood on his lips and wiping his fangs with his snow white sleeved shirt. He remembers finding it to be attractive, he also remembers berating himself for it later in the night when he was in his own home. He did see Kyle afterwards, and he looked so much more vibrant, full of life, because he stole someones life force in a sense. And the lass he drank from became his chef, Wendy, and she buys crops from Kenny as the seasons pass, and more importantly, she tells Kenny about Kyle and his habits.

She's been none the wiser to the actual career Kenny had taken up and she does have good gossip. Maybe if he wasn't out for her bosses life they could've been actual friends, not just fake friends for the sake of Kenny's own job. It would be nice, to till the field and gossip with the girls, live an innocent and naive life unaware that their vampire ruler is a bloodthirsty monster whose pulling all the strings. Even Wendy, the closest thing Kyle has too a firsthand man, is seemingly unaware of the danger she lives with and serves.

She says that he's nice, and that even in private all he ever does is play chess, backgammon, and occasionally offer to get drunk with her because she never takes a night off even though he says he can cook for himself. He fashions her dresses, and fashions suits for the men who've worked for him, a ploy, Kenny decides it's merely a ploy to lull them into false safety. He's just a gentleman, Wendy always says, he never does anything to make her displeased, he just wishes the town is prosperous.

And he scoffs every time, says a vampire took his best friend, he can't trust the man. And Wendy always answers with a somewhat smug 'how come you always attend his parties?' which consistently pins Kenny into a rough spot. He always answered with 'well maybe I find him appealing' instead of anything else, and perhaps that is what's finally deciding to come back and bite him in the ass. He's still yearning for the moment he gets to end Kyle, three days from now, he'll stake the vampire through the chest and leave. But, there's this terrible feeling at the idea, a small one, and he chalks it up to just being a shame that he doesn't get to sleep with the hottest monster he's been given the honor of slaying.

-/-/-/-

Kenny really missed the way his Mysterion garb fit on him, he hasn't worn it in nearly a year. It definitely fit tighter around the shoulders, but he supposed that tiling fields will give you some muscle. Thankfully the hood still fits like a charm, draping over his shoulders and down too just below his knees. The gloves slide on the same they always have, no chafe, and soft lining, just like the boots.

Maybe if he were a renowned vampire hunter he would choose against wearing his signature purples, but alas, he's still just a shadow in the business. Besides, the boldness to wear his vampire killing outfit to a vampires ball? He's never heard of another hunter so confident in the history of vampires being hunted and hunters hunting vampires. He'll be the first, he'll be renowned, decimating the Broflovski bloodline, one that hasn't been ended despite being so very, very old. He'll go down in history, for killing a vampire so cruel, tricking an entire town like it's nothing.

He hides the stakes to the side of his hip, hooked along belt loops and covered by his cape. He feels this burst of adrenaline (almost glee) as he slips on the mask, deep purple and tied back with a small knot of near silken fabrics. It's time, he knows the procedure of how these feeding events go, how Kyle 'chooses' even though his choice can decline. He glides onto the dancefloor with the grace of a swan and asks someone to dance, they agree and he gives them a dance, and then he bites. Sometimes he takes them to a separate room, sometimes he doesn't- Kenny just knows the only way he'll get a chance to strike is if he's chosen.

So if he messes it up, it's not his fault. It just means that he'll have no choice but to stay for one more year until Kyle has to feed again, and he has another chance to be chosen. Another chance to strike when thematically appropriate and rather bold at that.

He meets Wendy at the door and gives a genuine smile, "What do you think of my outfit?" Maybe he's being a little bit too upfront, oh well.

There's instant recognition on Wendy's face at his voice, "It looks amazing, matches your eye color," She's polite enough not to drop his name, to keep the spirit of the masquerade.

Kenny, no, he can't be in the 'Kenny' mindset right now. He'll drop a couple octaves once he's done his conversation with Wendy, "Think he'll pick me?"

And Wendy laughs, "Maybe he will, his taste changes every single year; so long as you've been easy on the garlic you're plenty a candidate."

And he has been easy on the garlic, he's fallen ill with a horrible rendition of the cold twice since he stopped eating as much of it. But he has to do so, for the job, and he had to double down on other spices and herbs to keep his food flavorful. He will wreak havoc on some innocent jackalope population if it does fail, anger management if you will.

"I haven't eaten garlic in months, if he doesn't pick me I'll die," Kenny answered with a laugh to his voice, "I really should be on my way though, I don't wanna miss my chance."

Then he's waving off Wendy and making his way in, keeping his cape curled around his hip to hide his weapon. He wasn't ever trained for social interactions, he was just told how to kill, so he isn't exactly doing this 'dancing around' thing properly. He's just chatting, drinking, trying to be social and enjoy the spirit of the event despite the sense of dread that he'll be the one to bring it all down.

It's nice, sipping slowly on fine red whines as he talks to acquaintances and people he's never met despite the town being so small. He almost doesn't want to go through with it, almost, this is his lifes work, once he's done with this mark he can leave forever. He just steels himself for when that lifeless entity enters the room and chooses someone for a dance.

That... impossibly good looking, but still heartless, creature makes his entrance. He can't believe himself for having such a thought, that's the wine talking, he supposes he's had a glass or two by now. It's the wine, he tells himself, it's the wine taking facts of matter (Kyle looks just above average) and blowing them out of proportion (Kyle is the best looking monster he's laid eyes on) instead of peeling back a layer of complexities he can't identify. He shudders at the fact his mind is spewing such nonsense, a vampire, attractive, what bullshit. Still, his face heats up the more he tries to counter the unwarranted train of thought by drawing up an image of Kyle in his head and trying to pinpoint what looks bad. What is bad, aside from him being a vampire, and he can't find shit.

There's the sound of someone clearing their throat and he looks up to find Kyle with a hand outstretched. He's wearing this sanguine grin that puts his pearly whites on display, and as usual he's dressed in a white button down and slacks. Mysterion just looks up to meet his gaze, eyes a swampy olive hue.

"May I...?" What a gentleman, and he pauses, retracting his hand just a bit.

"Mysterion," The answer is low.

Kyle gives a hum, "May I have this dance, Mysterion?"

And suddenly the blonde feels so cold, all of his nerves suddenly aware of whatever they're pressed against. It feels like the light is on him, shining bright in his eyes and on his skin. He places his gloved hand atop Kyle's, "Do be warned, I don't dance much."

There's a swift tug before Mysterion finds his back against Kyle's torso, twirling on his heel with the hand taken outstretched. One hand rests gently on his hip, "Just go with it then, I won't let you get hurt," His voice is as gentle as his grasp. Featherlight and almost a ghost of a touch, just enough to remind him of his position.

Mysterion nodded, "Cool, lead the way."

And then he's outstretched on another twirl, a foot forward and he rocks back into the motion. A foots distance between them, the hand returns to his side, resting at his shoulder blade, the other one higher up. He follows the swaying motions rather poorly, but still, he tries. He needs to at least attempt to look good in front of a crowd, it must be amusing to the vampire with how often he fumbles his footing. But, his dance partner keeps making up for it, shifting methods to work.

The hand drops to the small of his back and he twirls out instead because a dip isn't happening in full. And Kyle works around it, gliding over to find himself in front of Mysterion once more (he knocks off the hood, Mysterion knows what it means). He links their hands once more, and its the other hand this time. The blonde follows the next twist, the one under Kyle's raised arm, a pirouette that he can only describe with having similarity to a ballet routine.

He does the same to Kyle twirls him out and catches his half fall, but he slides back. He keeps himself flush against Mysterion as he sidles along the length of the blondes still outstretched arm. He swiftly pivots, hand grasping Mysterion's waist much tighter then before and fangs brushing against his throat. There's a hitch in the hunters breath as he goes rigid, hand gliding along his arm to gently grasp his hand.

"We can go somewhere more private," The offer is spoken so quietly it's clear he's trying to make sure only Mysterion hears him.

"That'd be lovely," There's a certain husk to his voice that rarely makes itself known, especially not with lethal weapons to his throat.

Kyle lifts his head and doesn't release Mysterion's hand, he leads the hunter way with a grace to his motions. The door hinges don't squeak as it's pushed wide open, leading to a comfortably wide hallway. The carpets are red, and the only light is what shines in through too tall windows and the occasional candle here and there on small tables.

Mysterions heart starts to pound a little bit faster as he tries to reach for a stake. It's already drumming so very, very loud in his chest from the dance, probably so the blood is better. His grip shakes just a bit, but this is it, he has to do it now or he'll never get another chance. He tugs his hood back up defensively, he's got this, killing his first full blood is gonna go great.

"Let's get this over with," Kyle said as he turned around, he didn't even look very shocked when he saw the stake Mysterion was brandishing.

He did give a yelp of shock when he was pounced to the ground, quick to get himself up just a bit. Knees rest at either side of his hips and there's this stressed look on Mysterion's face, holding the pommel of his stake just below the base of his ribcage with both hands. Kyle props himself up on his elbows, knees hitching reflexively, the purple fabric of the cape pools a little bit more on the floor.

Why isn't he moving?

He has his prey right where he wants it, and he isn't striking. Stake in his hands, and this impossible existence below him wearing an expression of fear never found on the ferals Mysterion usually deals with. He's used to his marks writhing and screaming and thrashing until he shoots them or cracks their by hand.

This so much worse than that, than anything else he's ever done. He can handle snuffing werewolves who are transformed. He can handle killing seemingly innocent and harmless creatures. He can handle poisoning the food of someones pet cerberus for their own safety.

Kyle sighs, "Go ahead, it's your job."

And Mysterion still doesn't, his grip just starts to shake again. He can feel sweat start to bead on his forehead, stress, he's going to crack under pressure. He's been so excited for this moment for years at this rate and his body refuses to jam the stake through the vampires chest.

He's too human. Mysterion sees too much of himself and his family and his friends in Kyle. There's too much kindness behind those eyes, his smiles are too genuine. He isn't evil, he can't be, and Mysterion can finally see that know, sort of. He's sure that Kyle will go feral if he doesn't drink, but he also knows that he's wearing his cross right now.

"Mysterion," Kyle said, raising a hand to rest on the stake, "I've known you're a vampire hunter since day one," He jerked it forward just a bit, "This is your job."

"How come you didn't get rid of me?" Mysterion asked, and his voice shook as he spoke, yanking the stake to the side.

Kyle shrugged, "You kept out the werewolves, kept my town safe, and in turn, I kept you safe."

"Fuck you mean you kept me safe?" Kenny answered with sharply as he could muster.

"What makes you think your business partners weren't ready to come and kill you for failing your job?" Kyle answered with, "They were, I dealt with them."

In a second the tip of the stake was pressed to Kyle's throat, "You killed them?!"

"I scared them off," Kyle said calmly, "I told them that if they killed you, I would end their bloodlines."

Mysterion halts, again, for the third time, the fifth time maybe, he's lost count. Mercy, from this, this monster- this person he's been sent to kill, he's been gifted mercy. And here he is, raising the stake back to where Kyle's heart would rest.

"You have business here Mysterion," Kyle said, he gave a small smile. He was fine with this, he was content with dying, "I let you go without finishing it this long, it's time to do your job."

He presses the tip of the stake to Kyle's chest.

"You're gonna be a great vampire hunter," And he sounds so fucking wistful it makes Mysterion feel like he's the one being stabbed in chest.

"I can't," The words come out strangled as he releases the stake and brushes it off of Kyle's chest like dust, "I can't."

"You kill me and go home a winner, a hero," Kyle said sternly, "Or you don't and get hunted by your once faithful companions- you have a choice."

Mysterion stood up and stepped to the side. He ran a hand through his hair with a heavy exhale. Fuck, "I can't do it, you aren't what I was brought here to kill."

"I will be if I don't drink any blood," Kyle said, smarm heavy on his voice as he stood.

"I know!" Mysterion snapped, reaching to his throat and the chain resting on it. He tugged it off, the silver cross he wore for self defense discarded.

Kyle watched it land on the carpet with rapt attention, watched one of his banes hit the floor. He glanced back up to Mysterion and stepped a bit closer.

"I came here to kill a monster, but you're not a monster," He was pacing now, back and forth. He was shaking and so close to crying, "I don't, what am I supposed to fucking do?"

"I'll say it again, kill me and live, or don't and die," Kyle said calmly, gingerly reaching for Mysterion's form, "Although, if you do kill me, may I see your face?"

The blonde nods rapidly as Kyle stands in front of him. The hood is pushed back first, delicate hands come to undo the knot next and the purple falls off Kenny's face. He leans into Kyle's hand, it's cold, but it's human, it's not monster aside from the fact his nails are sharp. He's not what Kenny was told he'd be killing.

Kyle doesn't speak, just grabs Kenny's hand with his free one, "May I?"

"May you what?" Kenny asked.

"Have a bite, I'm still absolutely starved," He tries to leave an air of humor on his voice but he fails to do so.

And it goes against every fiber of Kenny's being, but he speaks, "Go ahead."

The bite is gently placed along the vein on the inside of his wrist. He barely feels it, in fact he can only tell because of Kyle's bowed head.

He heaves a shaky sigh, "What am I doing?"

Kyle pulls back and Kenny wipes away the blood smudged on his lip, the rosy red hue of his own blood gathers on Kyle's face. The vampire gives a hum, "You don't have to leave," He speaks softly again, how does he keep doing that? Charming Kenny deeper into this pit of conflict.

"I'll be killed, Kyle," Kenny said as he leaned further onto Kyle, "I broke the rules."

"I'll kill them for your safety then, Wendy will shoot them for your safety, Tolkien will burn them for your safety," Kyle promised, "You're part of our town now, you always have been."

"What am I supposed to do, all I've ever fucking done is kill monsters," Kenny said, words spoken quietly.

"You're our farmer now," Kyle answered with.

"I've wanted to kill you for so long, Kyle," Kenny confessed, so much shame rested on them, "I'm not going to though."

Kyle paused.

"I'm sorry,"

The stake is at Kyle's chest again, it falls short again. The display is laughable as Kenny crumbles into Kyle's arms and the vampire just holds him. Rubbing between his shoulder blades as he sobbed.

"I didn't, I failed-" He breaks, he can't even speak.

"You're better now," The words are soft, and affirming, "We won't let them hurt you."

#south park #sp k2 #kenny mccormick #kyle broflovski #kenny x kyle #south park fanfiction #vampire kyle #writing #fanfic #fanfiction #please ignore the fact this is almost 4K words long #i went feral #tw identity issues #tw suggestive themes

[naterpillar]

Angleyes

Sirius Black x Reader

Inspired by song "Angeleyes" by Abba

While recovering from a breakup, you look back at your time with Sirius Black, all while realizing an undeniable truth.

Warning: Mentions of Adult Activities, angst

The Greeks believed that the stars, galaxies, the constellations were created by the gods.

For reference, the placing of Callisto.

The beautiful, loyal, and favored hunter of Artimes. But it seems that loyalty only got you so far with the gods. She was soon turned into a bear by her goddess due to the birth of a child caused by an assult by Zeus. Years later, the same child would come upon her bear form and attempt to kill it. Zeus would see these events unfold and take "mercy" upon the two. He would place them in the sky so they would never be separated again.

Another, Andromeda. She was the fair wife to Perseus, the slayer of Medusa. Although their meet cute probably wasn't as romantic as she was hoping it would be. He found her chained to a rock by her own people as a sacrifice to Poseidon's monster. He would slay it, and they would soom have a whopping six children. Athena would later place her in the sky as a way for people to remember her for all of eternity.

The brightest in the sky though, at least in your eyes was Orion's dog, the Star of Sirius.

And a dog he was.

~~~~~~~

You'd spend the better half of 2 weeks moping in your bed. Although you would never say that aloud because then that would mean he won. It would mean that he had been able to wiggle his way into your heart like a parasite. It would mean that without his touch on your hand, your shoulder, your lips, your legs, you were lost. That you were had loved him.

So you blamed your absence on painful, the worst you-ever-experienced, period cramps. Although that could only work for so long, even if none of your peers didn't really believe it in the first place. So, it didn't take long for your scar covered friend to come barging in.

"You know, it's considered rude in most of the world to come in without a heads up," you grumbled, not having to look up to see who it was, the scent of chocolate reaching your nose, "What if I was naked?"

"Then what a site it would have been," Remus replied sarcastically, "It's time to get out of this room, love."

"See, I would love to Rem, but my cramps are just killing me," you grasp your stomach in mock pain.

"Now, correct me if I'm wrong here, but I don't think menstrual periods, or at least yours, last twelve days."

You gasp, "then it must be menopause," you fall back onto your bed sinking into the warm sheets. "Oh, I should have seen the signs, the gray hair, the wrinkles... oh Rem! Do you think this spot is cancerous?" You both fall into laughter, and you realize this is the first time you smiled since the incident. Remus plops onto the space beside you with a smile still spread on his features, your shoulders touching.

There was a comfortable silence, hearing the laughter of students, stories down from your window. The window he once climed through after almost killing himself scaling the outside wall of the castle. You cleaned the material out of his hair and kissed his wounds better that night, your heart glowing that although a stupid action was directed so he could get to you. You shoke the memory from your brain, opting to turn the boy beside you.

"How do you even get in here?"

"I'll give you three guesses"

"Why didn't they just talk to me themselves?" you ask, thinking of your roommates/best friends

"Well, I don't know if you realize this, but you are quite argumentative... and a little bit scary. I'm surprised you weren't sorted into Slytherin."

"So you were thrown into the lion cage," he lets out a breathy chuckle.

"Well, I've been told I can be quite stubborn. I am the one who pulls the boys out of their beds." The smile slipped off your face, and you could feel the gaping pit in your stomach return. Remus immediately realized his mistake and felt his heart break a little at your dimming eyes.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean t-,"

"No, you're okay, it's fine. I'm fine." You gave him a tight lip smile even though you both know he could look right through it.

There is another pregnant pause. You were happy that Remus came to check up on you. Though friends before, you cheating off his work and him being graced by your impeccable charm, he was one of Sirius's closest mates. And you wouldn't have been surprised if he stopped talking to you. You couldn't say that wouldn't have stun, though.

"I just really don't want to see him. I don't know what I'll do if I do."

"It'll be okay," he said, bringing you closer to his chest, "it'll be okay."

You let yourself relax in his grasp. Though you knew it was wrong, you couldn't help but picture yourself in someone else's arms.

"I'll let you have some of my chocolate if you come in to walk with me."

"Deal."

~~~~~~~

And that's how you ended up here. Walking among the land of the living again, trying to ignore the whispers and stares, all while looking out for a pierced boy. You thought you saw his back at one point, but it was just his younger brother Regulas, who when he turned around and saw you, give you a polite nod.

Talking with Remus was nothing but a pleasure, catching you up on the gossip you had missed and adding his own commentary. It seemed nothing would be able to dampen your mood until you felt the thundercloads roll over again.

You had been walking down the shore of the lake when you saw the tree. The tree where you and him had shared countless laughs, deep conversations, (most of which talked of your future together) kisses, and intimate touches. Where you shared stories of your day, read to one another, and even a few nights of love making.

But your favorite pastime with Sirius, besides the sex, was the star gazing. You would lay out on the ground, his warm leather jacket the only protection from the prickly grass, and Sirius would rest his head on your chest. Then begin your game. Sirius would point to a light in the sky and say its name, although most you already knew, then you would tell the stories and mythology behind that star. As you looked up at the galaxy, you could imagine that you were somewhere else in time, somewhere without the threat of an impending war, maybe a peaceful farm with geese roaming around.

There were more than a few times that you and the boy would have to sneak back into the castle, being woken from your slumber by the streaks of dawn flooding the sky.

But that sacrade tree was not without company. There leaning on the stump was Sirius. But what really cemented the dagger into your heart was the girl curled into his chest reading aloud the lines of a book.

Remus followed your line of sight and quickly turned you away, starting to chatter on about dinner.

But it was too late, you already felt a shiver go down your spine despite the heat. The look he was giving her was one that you were plenty familiar with. A look of awe, admiration, maybe even love. A look that used to be able to stop you in your tracks and make your heart mush still had the same effect, only befriended with a sour emotion.

You recognized the girl, believing she was in the year younger than yours. She was also the one he said not to worry about.

As you began walking away from the scene, you couldn't help but compare it to a car accident. Wanting to look but knowing as soon as you see the damage you wouldn't be able to unsee it. But another thought lingered in your mind. The urge to walk right up to the couple, to the girl, and warn her. Warn her that she was just a pawn in a game he likes to play; fun to play with but easily expandable.

But you could tell it was too late for her. Having already looked into his eyes, being put in a hypnotic state of adoration. A parallel to your own experience.

~~~~~~~

The first time you were really captivated with Sirius was when you really took a look into his eyes. Having known of each other, you never began talking until you were partnered in Charms class. It's said that eyes are a window to the soul, and as disgusting as it sounds, you could see your whole future in them. They were hypnotic and put you in a trance like state of borderline obsession.

Angeleyes were the only way to describe them.

With Sirius Black, every day felt like paradise. He was everything one would ever need in a boyfriend. He was doting and wasn't afraid to show it. Blowing kisses at Quddich games, buying expensive gifts, and even creative once in a lifetime dates.

Every day was an adventure. For your half-year anniversary, Sirius had managed to bag front row tickets to see Bowie. You and him danced under the stars that night, the euphonious voice of the Starman himself filling your ears like honey. That night was filled with tipsy lovemaking and a warm shower to wash the colorful makeup off your faces.

Everything was perfect...

Until it wasn't.

You had heard the rumors of his past, you would have to be living under a rock to not have. Of breaking hearts left and right. It didn't matter who you were, how you acted, Sirius Black would break your heart.

But when you hit your two month mark of dating, you thought you were different. How unfortunately and totally wrong you were.

He was getting distant by the nine month mark. Although you knew what was to come, you tried to hold it off as best you could. He began acting weirder. Trying to distance himself from you in public, keeping touches to minimim. He would partner with his friends on projects, when before his eyes would quickly find yours when a group project was mentioned. Then, when you were in private, he was back to his old loving self, the Sirius you feel in love with.

He broke up with you in public. In the Great Hall. In the middle of dinner. In. front. of. everyone. The room became silent, something that never happened, as they watched the Heartbreak Prince collect another broken heart. You tried to maintain your dignity and not let your tears fall as you moved to the opposite side of the table from him, your friends following. It wasn't until you got to the dorm that night that you broke down in Mary's arms, the mutters of Lily and Marlene's threats to kill him accompanying your broken sobs.

You were right about his angeleyes. Though his love and innocence was just a wear of disguse, underneath it all, he still was an angel, but rather to add, a fallen angel. A man who plays the game and continues to collect hearts as his victims pay the price.

But sometimes at night, in the dark of the dormitory, or you're feeling extra lonely, you like to imagine he's lying next to you, stunning eyes still trained on you. You believe that will forever be the price you pay for falling in love with the boy.

Or in the halls, as you walk by the Gryfindor as if he's a stranger, the pain that you had managed to wear away had all come back like a flood of cold water. It still hurt to even think about your time together, a time you never thought you could life without him. A part of you couldn't, and that part died the day he broke your heart, a part you will never get back. But as time goes on, you know you'll get stronger and one day break free of his spell.

As Sirius struts the hallway with a new student every week, you stare down his new prey, hoping they get your warning.

Don't look too deep into his angeleyes.

#sirius black x reader #sirius black x fem!reader #sirius black #marauders

[deepbatched]

The Last Echoes | Obi-Wan Kenobi x Fem!Reader

Part 2 of ? « previous part

warnings: none, obi-wan's pov, angst with bits of comfort, not y/n, slight mentions of villian!reader, mentions of order 66 and death a.k.a. reader. this takes place in the series and flashbacks during tcw. possible grammar mistakes (english is not my first language). w/c: 3.4k.

Summary: After Obi-Wan Kenobi successfully rescues Leia, he starts to question himself how could his hedonistic beloved possibly end up the way she did, the way he last saw her. Seeking for answers, he reaches for Bail Organa to find out why he —like all the people he loved before— couldn't save her.

"It's easy for you, isn't it?", Obi Wan didn't understand her question. "Play the good guy, doing your part", she explained herself.

It is known that every love tale starts with promises of everlasting affection, to the drowning sensation of being consumed by the image of your loved one. Theirs didn't start nor end like that.

"Maybe we're more similar than you'd like to hear" he twirled his blue lightsaber, his pose relaxing as their fight had stopped again, he never turned his weapon off, neither did she, they just let them rest for a minute.

Their love was unusual, as Obi- Wan recognized that he loved everything he hated about her, and she hated everything he believed in, yet never could hate him. The contradiction installed in themselves not to be blamed as in the eyes of the other they would never be judged.

"Oh, don’t act like you really know me," she chuckled mockingly, "and don't agree with me, fight with me".

She elevated her lightsaber again, striking him fast enough to not harm him, slow enough for him to see it coming. They kept attacking simultaneously, illuminating the little room they were fighting in, gracing each other like children playing tag your it.

She turned it off once they reached a darker part of the compound, becoming invisible to him as she tried to blind her Force signature from him, creeping in the shadows like a bounty hunter, she came out kicked him on his stomach, he turned off his lightsaber too as quickly as a blink, he didn't wish to hurt her.

But that thinking was offending her at that moment.

If Obi-Wan wanted a physical fight, she would give him a war. And she did, she did give him an endless war on his mind that he could never win.

He focused on feeling her, reaching her through the Force, a wrapping sensation fed him up with curiosity, a taste of storm, the smell of petrichor and the color gray, plain defenseless color, the color of cold, of smoke and pain.

She was about to punch him in the face with the back of her arm — an aggressive kiss on his cheek. He stopped it abruptly, being able to turn her into his body, his chest pressed with her back, caging her in an unwanted embrace, a long awaited unrequited display of affection.

"Hurt me back!", she demanded, with all her love and her pain and her rage, "Don't you love to be enemies with me?", she asked rather spitefully, trembling even, as her eyes watered a little.

Obi-Wan could feel it in her Force signature, all of her sadness, and pride, and brokenness and love, confused and disturbed, but still it was love. And as her nails clawed into his arms like a wounded animal, she didn't want to leave his pull on her.

He didn't have to say anything, not even when they were both ignoring the war outside to slip and cuddle on the floor for a minute or two, they were there, holding the other in their arms bruised and unable to heal on their own, feeling each other melt and combine through the Force, so close yet so far.

Obi-Wan had hope in her, he had hope for everyone in fact, but with her was different.

Because hope was an infectious disease that threatened him when he saw her golden eyes, like if her Force signature elevated her in that aura, he let himself be wrapped in it for seconds every encounter, just to sunbathe in her. To know what it felt like to be part of the foreign. When he wasn't paying attention, she could feel him too, mingled with his softer side, as if it cleared her mind. There was no violence, no sharpness, no resistance. Only him.

Obi-Wan didn't want to be her enemy, but he knew they could never be friends, they were the third secret thing, the thing in between loving and hating. Whatever it was, he didn't want to let go.

But he had to open his eyes, to welcome reality and wake up to another setting totally different to the one he was engaging with inside his mind. He had become an old man in a chair, delusional with his own past, trying to decode it like a cryptic message. Instead she guarded him hidden in the shadows, and he daydreamed about her in the passenger's seat.

Another mission accomplished. Another time to feel like the hero.

If he succeeded, why didn't he feel completely relieved? Holding Leia's hand he could reminisce a glimpse of his past, the numerous times he held little Anakin's with caution when he missed his mom in the coldness of the immense space, the almost identical gentle grip to not shatter her dreams the very way he shattered her past already. Because guilt wasn't completely washed away, their encounter was not even near to be over, it would linger within his soul till the twins became of age and learned the truth of their origins.

The same way her memoir would burn his soul for the next few years of his existence. His sweet viper, his hedonistic beloved, his tiny little hope.

Egotistically, she was the only thought his mind could fully develop without the shadow of Anakin's demise and the possession of Darth Vader. She was now entirely his problem, his last nightmare.

Obi-Wan Kenobi was the last register of your existence.

In their brief fight, Darth Vader had revealed to him how she had disappeared once more, allegedly by Kenobi's hand. The Sith Lord couldn't be more wrong, as Obi-Wan could barely see her corpse for less than five minutes. There was no way she had just stood up and left the fortress, she was very much dead, they both saw how she was not with him.

But that didn't matter in a fight like that, nor the next one. All that mattered was that little Leia was safe and at home again, the same way Luke would be protected from the ghosts that followed him, Obi-Wan knew now he wouldn't need him for the next few years.

Oh how much he missed to be needed. How he missed to feel their bond, to call her through his commlink in those misty lonely nights.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

Pacing restless at his quarters, he felt the call of his own fears take in his spirit, he had fought as he believed was right. The burning bruises lingered in his arms and back, nothing comparable to the touch of the blaster's shot she received to protect him.

And he had noticed how it started to become more frequent, she didn't attack him when he fell to the floor merciless anymore, she waited for him to catch his breath and even handed him his lightsaber when she made it fall, it happened multiple times which stopped being isolated moments. Simple coincidences became premeditated displays of mutual admiration.

Aren't you supposed to kill the enemy?

Then why take care of him?

Why did he want to comfort her?

Whatever bruises and scratches he had, was little to the scar she would wear.

"Hello?... Hello?" she had answered believing it was a mistake, perhaps bad coverage from the sleazy place she found on a remote planet.

His blurry face came more into view, a clear shape of a man he had seen for a while, gentle blue eyes that haunted her like a ghost, a ghost of a promised hope that shall never come.

In the pit of intrigues and destroyed battleships, lied the face of a man that she yearned to know, whose only known facts revolved into thoughts of war, after the wars begun there was no time for anything else, and with her misleading to the acclaimed wrong side it was certain they weren't going to become the best of friends. In fact, it was forbidden to seek contact between each other, even could be considered an act of high treason to the ideals of the Republic.

Yet they were there, he was there more likely, pretending he didn't fancy her, as he would unknowingly pretend for the rest of his life that he didn't attain feelings beyond platonic for another being ever in his heart. But how to admit out loud to her what he could not even make up to himself?

It was not in his plans to do it, but after seeing her injured, he knew he had to at least find a way to reach out to her as well as he knew how wrong it was, and there he was anyway, furrowing his brow when heard her muffled groan.

"Does it hurt?" he asked worriedly watching the hologram's movements, she was dense in the brim, a shadow whose light was only seen in the darkest of nights — his deadly firefly.

What did it hurt? The distance? The code? The war? The duty? The different ideologies? The unrequited feelings? The sense of betrayal?

"I'll live, Kenobi," she said reassuringly, attending to her wound.

Minutes of silence went by, none of them knowing what to say. What could possibly unite them that could make their bond bloom? What could be strong enough to not break them? He had never felt such a connection with anyone, he was frightened and elevated, not even with his fellow Force sensitive.

Obi-Wan criticized Satine at her time, of her idealistic thinking and her ideal way of seeing politics. She saw peace where he saw war, she saw solutions in the middle of all of his conflicts. And now it seemed that the tables had turned. Because Obi-Wan chose to see the good in a Sith like in everything else.

Would she laugh at him if she was there? Would she make jokes on him and judge him? Remind him of how impossible it is to love him? But oh! How much he wanted to care for someone at the end of the battle. 

Part of being a Jedi was to acknowledge nothing was entirely black and white, like good and evil. Someone who wants to kill you won't let you escape from his grasp. The hint was there, out in the wild to interpret for the both of them. Obi-Wan did know it wasn't the first time it happened, but didn't know when it would be the last, and as much as a relief could mean to another couple of opponents, to him the thought was too much to handle.

"You're thinking too loud," she falsely complained to tease him.

"Pardon me?", he asked, maybe too serious, too trailed away from his initial thoughts, as if she was capable of reading him the same way he had tried to read her.

"I was joking. You stayed very still with your hand on your beard like this," she imitated his pose through the device to show him the exact position he was in, which immediately made him cease from it.

"I don't look like that".

This mildly outrageous comment made her laugh, not a mischievous laughing like she used to, a pleasant sincere one, that in response made him smirk.

"But you do look like this", no one would have believed Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi could make weird gestures to a hologram, but there he was, forgetting the point of his call in the warmth of her laughter.

"That's mean even for a Jedi", her giggles were the cure for his uneasiness, a strange mix of security and danger. "How did you intercept this signal?".

Her voice pitched lower, to mask the frightening sensation that erased her hopes of hearing him admit the unspeakable, the same feelings that have been burning her heart for so many eons ago. She knew very well Jedi couldn't acquire feelings like those, as sentients as they were, they were dangerous for the mere reason of blurring the lines between love and attachment, there was no known Jedi who could love selflessly.

And yet, her darkest desire was feeling herself hanging on the lips of his secret love, General Kenobi.

Now it was Kenobi's turn to lie or speak his truth, uneasy by her sudden hostility, her way to seek for security, perhaps he would do the same in her situation.

"I— " he wavered a little. What was he supposed to say? 'I was looking for you', 'I was worried about you', 'I don't want you to get hurt', it wasn't appropriate. "Wanted to make sure you— ".

He was never at a loss of words, he always knew what to say even when he drifted his mind away from conversations, though his mind decided to stop being assertive while speaking to her.

"Make sure I?".

"Weren't dead", worry was the very first feeling which turned into fear. A sensation he didn't want to let dominate him, that he couldn't let pass.

But he couldn't help himself, didn't he? And a little corruption occurred, the first of his life, the last of his night.

It was just so alluring, the way she had him trapped into contradiction, finding affection inside aggression. When did it start that he didn't realize? That he made things for her too and made the isolated a currency, — that he was slowly bending the rules for her.

He couldn't neglect he had failed his stances to not hurt her, or that he hadn't purposefully used the Force to put things out of her way before getting herself into a fatal accident, that he —an experimented general—avoided capturing her every chance he got. An innocent mistake at first that led to a series of unconscious love games.

"How thoughtful of you", the sarcasm of her expression couldn't mask the sweet tone in which she spoke. "Why do you care?", her inquiry was actually concerned, she didn't want to escape again after finding a safe remote place with the few last credits she had only because a Jedi decided he was a good prize to show his little Council.

He seemed to think about it a little longer than expected, waiting carefully to respond to her. The right thing would be to hang up and rethink what he was doing, threaten her even if he was that daunting to make room for speculations of disgust upon her. He didn't want that. Thus he smiled, sincerely, the very same way she smiled to the poor children living on the inferior levels of Coruscant.

"Why did you save me?" he had set with that question the start of something he would not be able to control in the foreseeable future, a never ending longing.

But he needed to know. He must know, otherwise, he was afraid she would be that last thing he thought about before going to sleep, the first thing he thought about after waking up.

"Don't dare to get it wrong, mere courtesy that's all", she boldly assured, as she couldn't give herself the privilege of giving him false hopes, "if that's why you called, I suggest you to hang up". She drifted her gaze away from his holo, she was trying hard to make him leave.

Even to her that seemed like a logical action on Obi-Wan's mind, if only he wasn't too tired to comply with all the unbreakable rules and detached a little from his perfect Jedi image. 

How could Obi-Wan tell her that just because no one else can see it, he doesn't love her any less?

"I called for other circumstances" he declared carelessly, taking a seat in a meditation position now as he expected for the night to be as long as he could maintain it.

"Which are?".

"No one deserves to be alone" Obi-Wan muttered, he had made his way with words, as he had read her, she was so lonely.

"I said I'll live", she stumbled trying to get a seat.

Her wound was profound yet curable, Obi-Wan still could see her pain through the commlink, he didn't feel at ease knowing she was in another side of the galaxy in pain. So far from him, and he didn't want to think her helpless, but he did think her stubborn, she would never let him help her, so asking her to give him her location and go after her was out of the picture.

But he wished he could follow her wherever she goes.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

He was trained to believe the Jedi way wasn't a solitude path, but now that he thought about it more, it does feel lonely, although it was proven a Jedi Master never truly is.

As long as he was connected to the Force, he was connected to all beings he protects. A Jedi Master is the watcher, the caretaker, the guardian. He is not just the sword nor just the shield, he is both the light and the darkness. He is in the shadows, watching over his loved ones, supposedly protecting his allies. For years inside his mind he held this guilt on his chest, that he chose to protect his enemies, not once but twice.

Still, what was all about when no one was safe? When every being he swore to protect was now in the claws of a cruel ruler? If there was no escape? If he was the shield, where was his sword? His loved one?

She had shattered his heart by giving him that which he could never have, which he could not live without once tasted and memorized — the contentment of their conflicted companionship.

"What will you do now?" Bail asked now that Leia was gone and Obi-Wan was about to leave on his ship.

"Wait" he said calmly, "my duty won't be over until they know" this was the scary part, the fear of making the same old mistakes. A tired sigh leaving his chest.

"On Tatooine?" insisted Bail, slowly conducting his chatting to her, to free Obi-Wan from another headache and give him that last peace of mind he knew he needed, he deserved to know after all he had been through.

"I have nowhere else to go", he claimed, stroking lightly his beard, trying to remove the uncomfortable feeling of himself, without her alive, he had no reasons anymore to leave Tatooine and fulfill his duty.

"I must tell you... The side of the story you know about her is incomplete", as much as she caused problems to him in the past, he recognized how selfless she had been fighting against the empire the first few years. "She didn't die as a traitor, the Inquisitors punished her for helping a Jedi".

"What?... How?". He realized now Bail knew the reason she was caged Vader's Fortress.

"She helped Ahsoka survive an attack to arrive to Malachor where she is exiled now, Ahsoka couldn't have escaped successfully if it weren't for her, we couldn't get her out and Vader...", Bail wasn't able to end his train of thought, confusion struck Obi-Wan like a needle through his heart "I just thought you had to know".

Bail was worried to break Obi-Wan's spirits more on Anakin's actions, because the former Jedi could imagine what was going on inside Darth Vader's mind — by punishing you he was punishing him.

Obi-Wan asked who this mysterious someone was, pretending not to know who Bail was talking about before his lips pronounced your name too loud and clear to be mistaken, too loud for every corner of his body to know. His poison ivy, his rotten fruit, his lovable stinger.

Why did it have to be too late to follow her?

He nodded to him in silence and watched him leave as the ship took off. Heartbroken, he was silently content about being right about her, to put his trust and hopes in her.

He didn't know what to do on his way back to Tatooine, only how to feel, the anguish and despair, the inutility, to measure all of the things he failed to express at the right time. Was it possible that she died without knowing how much she was loved? Could the Maker be able to let such cruel condemnation happen?

When your duty is over...

Perhaps, the misunderstanding of their promise by his end, the oath he devotedly kept under his wing to be his precious secret was now one side of the cliff's whisper. Closing his eyes, he could still see her pleading eyes, the exact same eyes that made him wake up abruptly night after night.

Meet me...

At the end, she had died the way she lived, in the darkness of night.

A/N: Hi! I was working on this since I posted the previous part, I was thinking of making it a shot fic, which mean another 2 parts more coming if my imagination let me to. With that said, if you want to still be tagged do nothing, i'll keep tagging you. If you want to be added or being removed in the next parts, comment this part (no worries, i won't mind) or send me an ask (i'll keep it private) as I won't be counting just likes bc i realized its very ambiguous to know who wants to be tagged or not. Thank you so much for liking and rebbloging.

last part tags: @starry-supernova @tejabrynn @lovely-geek0 @coldheartedindividual @lavecwind @khaleesihavilliard @collectinglungs @abisexualsailormoon @zoarrivera @the-undead-robin426429 @ilikepancakesyee @curcuma-yn0t @apocalypticwafflekitten @pickleprickle @blood-spotting @thewanderingsage @lexi2005 @lportes-22 @theaternut @cosmickenobi @yelyahjennaa @chaosmir @ihaveissueslotsofissues @daithideolishmer16 @sofiastuf @atrejloi2222111 @lovesickollie @zthedoll @lillianacristina @razzel-my-dazzel22 @arixaesty @yourlovely-moon @somiaw @poopybutttttt @thedarthpancakes @peanutbuttermoony @spooky-tsunderegirl @emzyoffical @begheera @lexixwan @ellethelynx @omeletteoooo @elliewilliamslover @bellarkeselection @acupnoodle @fieryflower24 @phantomrose666 @luvskywalker @songoficecreamandfireworks @insertlamepunhehe @bitchyglitterfox @darklyndivinely @franber0 @craftypaperherringalmond @10kseniya10 @audrie-bryant @freshwombatgiantuniversity @beatr1cesblog @sprinkleskanye

If you appear on the taglist but are not tagged is probably your settings or I wrote your username wrong (which I apologize, not on purpose).

#obi wan kenobi #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan kenobi x you #obi wan x reader #obi wan x you #obi wan kenobi x fem!reader #obi wan kenobi x afab!reader #obi wan my beloved #obi wan fanfiction #obi wan imagine #star wars #sw #star wars x reader #ewan mcgregor #ewan mcgregor x reader

[guppybubbles]

oooo,, i really like your writing!!

if you’re still taking prompts- mayhaps something including.. dragons(i 👉👈 i really like dragons), or mers? as for with who, my personal preferences are peer pressure duo or alliumduo, but if you’re not up for writing either of those, feel free to do whatever!

apologies for not following the fake title format, i am- not good at titles of any kind,, dkdnkdndkdk. hope you have a good rest-of-your-day! — 🎲

GOLD FEVER [1/2]

Ranboo is an Enderman being hunted down by monster hunters. Unable to protect themselves, they offer tons of gold to The Blood Dragon.

Word Count: 2777 words

CONTENT WARNING!!! : mentions of scars and swords, general fear, fear of death, implies being eaten (but nothing happens)

( A/N: no need to apologize!! the fake titles prompts was just smth beckyu wanted to do! nothing wrong with not following the format <33 anyways, i hope you enjoy! teehee )

He's been standing here for an hour, maybe even two. Ranboo just can't bring themselves to enter. The entrance looked so intimidating, he can't even imagine what lies inside.

The mouth of the cave was huge, big enough to possibly fit every single tree in this forest. Every time he tries to hype himself up to go inside, his fear pulls him back to where he started.

But would he rather die by hunters who've been known to make their bounties deaths slow and merciless, or die by a dragon who would most likely just make their death as quick as possible?

Yeah, dragon. Dragon sounds better.

Ranboo took in one deep breath of air and stepped in once more, trying to ignore the strong urge to run away and return home. Even with their excellent night vision, the cave still looked dark. They could barely make out the claw marks scratched on the walls. It felt like something out of a horror book.

He knew he was nearing more into the dragon's den when he noticed thin stripes of light being hidden behind a thick layer of leaves. Ranboo felt like their heart was going to break out of their chest with how intense it’s been beating. As quietly as possible, they pushed through the foliage and held their breath.

Redstone ores were scattered around the den. Ranboo remembers they shine much brighter than other ores he’s mined, he’s not a rock expert but he assumes the reason why they shine so much is their energy source. It’s one of the main ores being used in many advanced communities, perhaps the shine is an indicator of how much energy just one ore has.

Redstone wasn’t the only thing sparkling in the dark cave, because right in the middle was a large pile of gems that could make a King seem poor in comparison. Ranboo swears they can see crystals they didn’t even know exist, and they mine as a hobby! They feel entitled to at least know a decent amount more than basic knowledge when it comes to ores.

Ranboo froze when he saw whose head lay on top of the gold pile. The Blood Dragon.

Staring right at him.

"It— it's not—" They stuttered, "It really isn't what it looks like." Ranboo fully emerged from the curtain of leaves, holding their hands up to emphasize their intentions.

The dragon growls, a rumble so loud that the Redstone's lights flicker with fear. Its large tail wraps around the mound of riches, assuming that the enderman was here to steal their possessions. Ranboo couldn't blame them, he was holding a suspiciously big brown sack that reminded him slightly of the material thieves used.

"I'm here to give you offerings—! Actually!" He quickly added, throwing the sack in between the both of them and gold spilled through its opening. The rumbling stopped and Ranboo released a breath of relief.

The Blood Dragon looked interested in his gold, to say the least, and Ranboo wasn't even sure if they could understand his words. There have been cases that stated most dragons have a consciousness and can understand simple phrases, and Ranboo was desperate for any sort of protection— so he'll keep trying until he was sure they could understand him.

Slowly, they picked up the sack of gold again and approached the dragon. The dragon's eyes squinted, skeptical of the enderman.

"I'm… I'm being hunted by monster hunters and I need your protection. Not forever! Just, just enough to… I don't know, scare them off to make them leave me alone?" Ranboo stopped right in front of the pile.

A gust of warm air washed over him, the dragon just huffed out a puff of smoke— almost looking tired and annoyed. It seemed less angry than it was when he first entered, so he'll take it as a good sign.

"… Okay. I'll take that as an… unsure response." Ranboo slowly placed his brown bag right next to the bundle of gems.

The dragon stared at him, then carefully inspected the bag with its snout. Seeing a dragon— not just a dragon, the BLOOD Dragon, up close is a surreal experience Ranboo did not know they would ever have. The tales spread across the SMP mentioned how the Blood Dragon would slaughter anything and anyone in its path, yet here it was now, pouring the bag's contents onto his pile, seemingly accepting the offer, but still wary of the enderman.

"It's not a lot of gold, I know— Compared to your treasures." Ranboo spoke, "But, I promise, I'll keep paying you until you accept to protect me from the hunters… Is- Do we have a deal?"

The dragon stared at him for a long period, and Ranboo starts to think he was insane for even trying to make a conversation with them. Then, the Blood Dragon slightly bows its head and closes its eyes, accepting the enderman's offer.

Ranboo lets out a sigh of relief.

──────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹──────

Ranboo arrives the next day with another big brown bag of gold, mixed with bits of diamonds and iron. While there was still a bit of anxiety when he entered the mouth of the cave again, it didn't take him nearly two hours to even consider going inside, which isn't a big victory, but a victory nonetheless.

The dragon was there when he set foot in the den. He huffed out another puff of smoke through his nostrils but remained lying down next to his riches. He didn't seem aggressive today, though still looked wary of his presence— Ranboo regarded that as another small victory. "Hello, um, dragon."

The Blood Dragon softly grumbled in response. He decided to think of that as the dragon greeting him back. “Maybe you won’t like being called just dragon. Do you have a name? You probably do but you can’t tell me. Should I call you something else?” He rambled, “Should I just call you Blood, Gold, or I don’t know, Michael?”

The dragon stared at him silently, and Ranboo felt like he was being judged for his name choices. “What? I think Michael is a good name!” He defended, “Though, I guess it doesn’t suit you…” The suggestions may suck, but in his defense, he’s never been good with names. As he offered another addition of gems to the dragon, he took that time to examine the treasures he has from afar. Ranboo noticed a sharp sword encrusted with the shiniest diamonds and even bits of Netherite. “Oh! What about Dagger, or Blade?”

They laughed at themselves, Prime, what were they doing? They were trying to make conversation with a dragon and trying to give him a name. He felt stupid and pathetic. “What am I even doing?” They silently asked.

The dragon moved to examine Ranboo’s offering, and the enderman plopped himself on the ground. “I’m talking to a dragon.” This was unbelievable, “I can’t find anyone willing to protect me, so- so I have to turn to a dangerous dragon because, because what? The hunters find me dangerous since I’m half enderman, half—” Ranboo cut themselves off, opting to sigh instead.

He can’t ramble on about something the dragon wouldn’t care about. Mob hybrids aren’t usually treated with the greatest respect. He’s met Charlie, a slime hybrid, they acted with childish wonder yet had random times where they showed an infinite amount of wisdom. They’ve been on trips together and he’s seen how many villagers disregarded his existence. It felt unfair, Charlie has been nothing but kind yet still treated like an unredeemable criminal.

Fortunately, Charlie found a safe place for shelter from the hunters. They were taken in by one of the richest people on the SMP, a gambler who owns multiple casinos and owns a big portion of land dedicated to stealing money from the unsuspecting in a ‘legal’ way, Quackity from Las Nevadas. Ranboo did have his doubts meeting him, but he noticed the strong bond between him and the slime hybrid, and who was he to interfere with that?

Ranboo thought he could find safety in a person just like Charlie had with Quackity. It doesn’t even need to have a strong bond, just someone to shield him from harm. He attempted to pay experienced fighters for that reason, but he’s been accused of stealing something that was rightfully earned by hours and hours of mining.

“Do you accept my offer, Blood Dragon?” The dragon made a low growling sound, not as scary and hostile as before but it did make Ranboo tense up. It reminded him of exactly what he was dealing with, he shouldn’t let his guard down no matter what whenever he gets near this giant dragon. The dragon letting him enter and giving him mercy by not outright killing him shouldn’t be a reason for him to relax.

Ranboo scrambled to his feet and patted off the dust on his pants,

“Okay… Next time then.”

──────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹──────

Ranboo didn’t visit the day after that, nor the following days after that either. They decided to spend their time mining in ravines and mineshafts. Who knew giving most of your gems to a dragon would almost empty your supply of ores? They didn’t mind it though, they loved spending their time mining around and always get satisfied with how many resources they got from hours and hours of emptying various caves.

It wasn’t all that dangerous either. Because he was half-enderman, Mobs recognized him as just another mob and left him alone, giving him a safe space. He was hidden away from the judgments of villagers, the spying eyes of hunters, and the awful stares of other beings. In here, Ranboo felt safe.

Safe, but isolated.

It’s what he wanted, but did the price of safety mean taking away his company? Any sort of interaction would be void if it meant living in the caves forever. Mobs aren’t very responsive to his attempts at socialization. It didn’t help that he was an enderman hybrid either, one of the mobs most known for not being able to handle interaction with species that aren’t other endermen and hate eye contact.

He wanted to visit the dragon today, but he hesitated on that decision. Hours of mining led to him upgrading his items at his base using those materials, which left him with nearly the same amount of materials he had before he started mining. Most of what he had was a bunch of emeralds he didn’t have much use for. Trading them with villagers was great, they’d trade some decent stuff but the quality slowly declined over the years. The last time he tried to trade, they tried offering ten pieces of paper for 8 emerald gems, which he didn’t need when he had an entire library of books and journals back at home. It meant most of the emeralds he has and the emeralds he’s mined collect dust in chests.

He debated if he should give emeralds to a dragon who clearly prefers gold, but wouldn’t it be better to have something other than nothing? Ranboo didn’t have the energy to keep mining either. Don’t get him wrong, he loves mining but he loves rest as well.

Ranboo held a large bag of emeralds, and he had that deja vu of wavering fear when he reached the dragon’s den again. What if he didn’t accept his offer? Everyone knows emeralds aren’t of much use other than trading, they can’t be used to make armor or tools. They’re pretty much useless!

Just like the times before, the dragon was there next to their heap of jewels. “Hello, Blade.” Ranboo greeted softly, and he knew he heard him when he did his signature puff of smoke as a hello. “D’you get lonely without me? I know, I’m pretty good company.” He joked and Blade thumped his tail on the ground.

Ranboo chuckled. “Ah- I think I should just be honest here. I don’t… have gold, I just have emeralds and I—”

The Blood Dragon then suddenly popped up from where they were laying and stared at Ranboo. In instinct, the enderman immediately looked away. Oh Prime, Oh Prime, Oh Prime. Coins and metal shuffled around, Blade was moving. Fear struck in Ranboo, especially since they have never seen the dragon stand up or move away from their treasure before.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

He was walking closer and they closed their eyes, trying to touch into their teleporting skill and get out of there. Ranboo could feel the particles surrounding him, and he attempted to imagine the forest outside to teleport to. They weren’t great with teleporting, in fact, it mostly only works when he’s scared and oh, he’s so scared. “Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry!” They screeched out ender apologies, only coming off to the dragon as warbles of sounds.

Blade pressed their snout against Ranboo’s chest, effectively trapping them between him and the wall of the cave. “Oh my Pr- please, please, don’t kill me!” Panicked clawed hands made an effort to push the dragon’s face away, to no avail. This is it, the exact scenario he was worried about. He should’ve just waited for more time and come back with the items the dragon had wanted, or maybe he shouldn’t have even come here at all. This deal was nothing but just the dragon milking out Ranboo’s resources until he was bone dry. Tears welled up in his eyes and they burned his eyesight. Wow, thanks for giving him every enderman trait except for great teleportation skills. Thanks a lot, Universe.

Ranboo didn’t know what he should feel in his last moments. Whether it was anger or sadness, he just wanted the dragon to get it all over with as swiftly as he could. He knew he was taller than the average human but the Blood Dragon was huge, so he could make quick work with him.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Blade made a sound, a small roar that sounded a lot like curiosity.. Or was it happiness?

Ranboo opened their eyes and felt their heart thump louder than they had before. The dragon was mere inches away from himself, though their attention was focused on the brown bag on the floor, or maybe what was inside it. They never noticed the dark pink scales scattered across his body before, and the scars of what were presumably sword scars were displayed at his neck. Not just on his neck, but scars displayed on his wings, tail, and even on his chest.

Blade sniffed at the bag and made soft sounds, gently poking the bag with his snout. Ranboo, still in a state of shock, tried to speak. “Oh. Oh- so you were- you like emeralds?” He questioned, and noted that the continuous thumping was just Blade’s tail excitedly hitting the floor.

Slowly, he picked up the bag full of emeralds again and watched as how Blade’s thin irises expanded, reminding him of a cat focusing on a red dot from a laser pointer. “Jeez, you-” Ranboo breathed deeply, unable to find the right words for their feelings. They approached the heap of treasures again, and Blade followed right behind them. Their massive shadow covered the entirety of the enderman and they made a delighted trill sound as the emeralds were added. “There. Happy?” Ranboo squeaked an ender curse as Blade pressed his snout against his body again, and the sound of thunder outside just made his nerves rise again.

Wait… Thunder?

He could barely hear it in this huge cave, but there were sounds of raindrops and the occasional thunder outside. That was strange, he could’ve sworn there weren’t any clouds in the sky when he had first entered- but to be completely fair, he wasn’t paying attention to the sky when he was contemplating about entering the cave earlier. He’s stuck. “Crap…” He mumbled.

Blade turned their head to the ceiling of the cave, aware of the thunderstorm happening outside. Ranboo walked up to the curtain of leaves to see just how bad the storm was, maybe they could set off back to their home. Sure, it may hurt but— “Wait, wait, wait, what are you doing?!” Blade’s tail wrapped around his waist and lifted him just a few inches off the ground and brought him closer.

Blade laid down and gently placed Ranboo by his neck. Was he asking him to stay here? “Thanks, but I got to get home, Blade.” He said, patting the dragon's neck. The dragon replied with a pleading rumble, eyes closed and cuddling their neck closer to him.

Ranboo smiled softly. He couldn’t say no.

#mcyt g/t #mcyt gt #dsmp g/t #dsmp gt #g/t writing #g/t #g/t au #giant/tiny #tiny!ranboo #giant!techno #guppy's asks #guppy writes! #Gold Fever au #mcyt g/t community #mcyt gt community #gt writing #dragon!techno #edits will be made after i sleep zzzzz

[filmfactors]

opinion on hunter from toh

WARNING: I probably won't get all my thoughts across perfectly. Sorry it's honestly taken me awhile to get back to this anon, I did have thought's but couldn't quite catch myself in the mood to write em! Now let's get started:

Hunter is, by all means, a character I personally should've liked. I did at one point! The Golden Guard easily had my attention, he was sassy and I love my masked characters. It's what they started doing with him that made me less of a fan over time, that and I have a personal grievance with the fandom. Being the rare Belos fan I couldn't go into his tag without seeing it mostly about Hunter all the time.

Obviously I'll state I do not dislike Hunter for having a redemption, rather, it's how Owl House redeems characters that make's him as fascinating as plain white bread. What is this method?

Redemption = Lack of bite, a total lack of genuine flaws... and a reason why their actions can be blamed on someone else.

Let's bring in Amity as another example: Upon her introduction we see her bullying Willow, alone. When Understanding Willow comes around, we see that it's claimed it was her parents, and even later, just her moms fault. Inner Willow says 'you let your friends pick on her for years' but we don't acknowledge Amity did the exact same for no good reason.

Once Amity is redeemed, do we see the attitude? Do we see her hesitations with Willow? Do we even see her trying to make it up to Willow? I am not counting Labyrinth Runners for this because sure we got some closure but it doesn't fix the base issue. Any sort of Amity's actually negative flaws are erased once she is Luz's cool girlfriend.

It happens to Lilith, with her complexes, she never again expresses negative feelings that aren't easy and palpable. She's never superior or with attitude, and she only cursed her sister thinking it'd only be a day. That's a whole other can of worms though.

Point being, Hunter is the exact same. We can blame all his negative attributes on Belos, and once he's good he can no longer have any of those. He's not sassy, or fun, and admittedly is just kind of an angst machine.

I often feel the point of redemption is that it is nice to see someone who did bad things, get help or help themselves. The belief even bad people can change, because in the end they are still human. It's not fun when all your redeemed characters are simply 'misunderstood.' When you can push the blame off of them and instead place it on someone else. Owl House's message is that people are complex, but fails to deliver on this.

An easy comparison to make is Hunter is Zuko, but he's absolutely no Zuko. They both follow a similar principle, it was a family member that led them down the path of ruin. Yet Avatar understood that at some point down the line, your actions are your own. Zuko is conflicted, and hurting but he still does actions that hurt others. He has to apologize, make up for it, etc.

Now I'll say Zuko's redemption is not and has never been the end all be all for redemption. I have a whole slew of thoughts on the matter, point being is that Hunter was this type of redemption. It fails to be anything much other than making Hunter the resident sad but bad boy, and the shows punching bag.

At some point all of his angst was just egregious punching down, as in by Thanks to Them. Flapjack, the possession... it didn't need to happen. In fact it hardly effected anything at all! It just gave Hunter more trauma and powers, but what did it do for the story? Hunter is barely in the finale. I guess let's watch some Boscha and Kikimora hijinks instead?

Moving on from the general issue of Owl House's writing, what else can be said about Hunter? Well he is a screen time leech. Consider, an episode like Labyrinth Runners. Technically a Gus episode, but he once again takes a backseat for other characters. Just like his one other episode! Hunter for some reason knows Willow better than him as well, just for some shipping fuel.

All that to say I don't hate the concept of this episode, I really enjoyed the Gus and Hunter interactions! I find their friendship to probably be Hunter's most compelling relationship outside of Luz. It's only a problem for the fact Gus' whole character is tossed aside by the writers.

He sees Belos' memories, his traumas, etc- what does this lead to? Making Hunter feel better. Gus never actually gets to do anything despite all the set up of his illusion powers, his episodes are overtaken by someone else or a ship. I'll admit this is not just a Hunter problem, but it contributes a lot.

All in all once Hunter was introduced, it left Willow and Gus further on the back burner. No matter what you say, there is an obvious lack of use of these two. Speaking of them, or more specifically Willow:

I'm actually okay with the concept of huntlow! I do not think it's nearly as bad as people in the critical tag claim it to be. It was rushed and not well written, but I felt the writers were on the right track for the idea. However, there have been some pretty bad faith readings of the pairing. Mostly for folks claiming that she 'didn't start liking him until he had powers' which is blatantly untrue.

Willow may not blush at Hunter, the tell tale sign someone in Owl House has a crush. Yet I feel you can pick up on the fact she has an interest in him in Thanks to Them, notably a pre-Hunter powers episode. I won't claim it's extremely compelling, but it's simple and it's cute it just results in some messy things for the sake of ship fuel.

My biggest complaint is that yet again, Hunter steals Gus' role of being a good friend to Willow in For the Future.

I feel there is much more I could say on Hunter, and his character, but I'm bad at writing all my thoughts without specific questions to remind me...

Overall just take it as I dislike Hunter, while also thinking he's one of the better characters of the series. He's got all the right ingredients to make a good cake, but the writers kept adding too much vanilla extract.

#owl talk #toh critical #my biggest hot take is that they shouldve just rolled amity and hunters character into one #also if you bring up the cancelation im going to become a feral animal IK ABT IT but it doesnt change the fact they couldve managed #their time soooo much better

[storm-breaker7]

I liked your last female reader x reader you did I was wondering when your requests are open I was thinking Pirate Hunter X Female Reader or a Midevil Hunter but he will be a king.

I love both bbg but the idea of hunter being a king is appealing to me <3 (also its spelt medieval) and I don't know traditional coronations so whoopies 🥲😘💀

My Plan

Summery: You attempt to rob the newly crowned king, King Hunter, in a covert of 'robin hood's.

Warnings: Swearing, blood/bruising,

A/n: This is not proofread (We die like clones) and Im known to screw my tenses' up so warning to anyone who notices that 😘💅 also Alex is some random dude I just had to name 💔🧍

---

The crowds cheered, and roared as they watched the crown being raised into the air. They die down and silence covers the people like a blanket.

"Today!" The wielder of the crown yelled his voice practically ringing across the kingdom. "Today! A Prince, Prince Hunter... becomes... a KING!"

The crowd erupted into cheers once again, but I on the other hand, frowned. Glaring straight at the new king. He doesn't know what it was like to live like this. To live like rats in a scrapyard full of dogs.

He'll have a party that could feed everyone in our ranks. Hog. I sneer and turn away, dropping down from the tree I was perched on. I push past some swooning women, continuing on away, glaring at the bold but mostly keeping my head down.

Over the years, our ranks have adapted the name, 'The hoods', because we do Robin hoods work. The story book tale? We represent what that tale taught many.

I have planned for this, the coronation will bring so much gold to the kingdom from all the supporting kingdoms, that are of course part of ours. Those dogs that live in their ivory towers deserve nothing more than the sewers. The rats.

The people, that make this kingdom whole, deserve every penny and more. Its why we're going to commit everything to making sure this works. It has too.

Tonight, when the mighty new king is talking up his many servants and high ups that are attending his feast, we strike... take him for all his money, and give it to the poor who need it.

I gaze up at the horizon, the purple and orange hues blending together. I smile lightly, admiring the scene in front of me. Like calm before the storm.

I huff, ripping my gaze from the sky as I walk away from the raging crowds and the newly crowned king. He might become a bigger problem than his father, he did of course used to command the military.

Some people in our ranks had run ins with him or his close-knit team. I did see them at the coronation... I must say they all are quite some warriors. I shake my head, trying to rid myself of the thoughts so I can focus. Focus on tonight.

The afternoon slips from me and next thing I know I'm knocking on the door. I heard locks clack and then the hard wood opened with a loud creak.

"Good to know your joining us. We're just waiting for our bait to show." He spoke up, his eyes unmoving from the plans that lay on the table. I hummed and did a once over of everyone. This was tighter than normal jobs. Everyone was serious. Tense. But I can't blame them, we're about to go for our biggest job yet, and it's against our new king.

The door creaks once more and the light banter and subtle chatter vanishes. Boots clack in an odd pattern as she nervously walks up to the table.

"Now that we are all here, I'd like everyone to pay full attention. If one thing doesn't go to plan this whole operation may as well fail." He started up, his voice booming in the house.

After the long dragged-out meeting, many departed. scattering throughout the city, readying themselves for their roles in the giant elaborate plan.

The crackle of far away thunder pulls me from my wondering thoughts. Everyone had already scattered, getting in position for either the distraction or-

"Get up" Alex ordered, knocking my feet off the table where they rested. I fix my posture and readjust my jacket, casting my gaze at Alex expectantly.

My hand twitches, even though I brewed this plan, Alex took it up to the Robins and took credit. He thought he could take my plan out of under my nose and then order me around like a slave?

"I said get up," Alex growled, "Everyone is in position, we need to start."

I frowned, glaring at the floor as I pulled myself up from the chair,

"Fine."

---

Time passed quickly and the night grew colder, the festival was now in full swing. Me and Alex pushed through the crowd, waiting for my plan to unleash.

Instead, four knights came running this way, heavy armour and all. Alex yelped and slithered away between the people. I, on the other hand didn't get time to run before a large armour clad knight tackled me.

A sickening crack sounded, my shoulder jarring out of its usual position. A agonised yelp left my lips before I could stop it. The only thing I found comfort in now, was the cold floor.

---

"What were you doing at the festival that night, Hood?" A slimmer knight questioned me now, it was all a blur from the cold floor to this uncomfortable chair.

"Listen peg arm, None of you had the courtesy to at least put my shoulder back in place. What makes you think I like you better now?" I snapped, my glare permanently drilling into his helmet.

"Answer the question and I'll get the doctor." He hissed,

"I. Would. Rather. Die." I growled, spitting in his general direction for good measure. The man growled out what I could only guess was curses, but it was in another language.

His blurry figure flicked his hand, I think, and stood up. I blinked, trying to focus. He huffed and stomped to the gate, the metal groaned as it moved.

A loud echoing clang sounded as the mysterious man slammed the heavy door. I relished the silence while it lasted, letting my head hang. A dull throb in my shoulder was the only reminder that I wasn't dead.

Some time passed before the clacking of boots sounded down the hall. I rolled my eyes and leaned back against the chair again.

My vision had mostly cleared so I could recognise the king enter, the four knights that accompany him are posted outside of my dull cell. A doctor scurrying in quickly before the gate slammed shut once more.

The doctor made quick work of my robes, cutting the whole of my right sleeve off.

"Please relax your shoulder." They ordered, I grumbled and glared at the king who waited patiently near the door. I sighed, attempting to relax.

The doctor snapped my shoulder back in and a sickening pop rung. I squeezed my eyes closed and bit down on my lip, feeling something trickled down my chin.

When I let go of my lip and cracked my eyes open, ragged breaths left my lips. I leaned forward, doubling over in agony but barely making a whimper.

"Thank you," The king bowed his head, and the doctor scrambled out, the gate slamming shut and ringing in my head.

"What do you want from me..." I rasped desperately, my gaze lifting and locking with his. He leaned down, his robes and cape cascading around his frame.

"What's your name, hm?" He pulled his glove off, roughly grabbing my bloodied chin. I could feel his eyes carefully picking me apart.

"You know, I would have thought a man should know a girl's name before you... Oh so kindly invite them to your dungeon." I jab almost humorously, my eyes squeezing closed as a chuckle painfully leaves my lips.

He frowned, his hand gripping my chin harder as he examined me. "Where are the robins?" He growled,

I hissed, his hand digging into my skin like claws, "It's on a need-to-know basis..."

"Yes, well, I need to know. Cough it up hood!" His majesty growled, voice raised and his frame looming over me.

"Fuck off." I spat out blood, the crimson liquid splattering over his freshly polished shoes.

He frowned, his glare turning to the roof. He whipped around the gate groaning as it opened.

"We will continue tomorrow, let's return to our ball." The gate slammed shut and all five waltzed off, zoning everything else out as I doubled forward.

The gate groaned again and I huffed, "Leave me alone..." I grumbled,

"How kind, maybe I'll leave you here." I shot up, glaring at Alex. He circled around me and cut me loose.

I picked myself up from the wooden chair. Suddenly, as if my instincts kicked in, I dodged (what, I'm not sure).

I cried out, a dagger lodging itself in my other shoulder. I whipped around and my knuckles met Alex's jaw with a wonderful crunch.

"What the FUCK!" I yelled, stumbling back and into the open iron wall, the dagger clanging against it.

"Your traitorous! YOU told them about my plan!" He yelled, as if he actually believed that.

"YOUR PLAN? YOUR FUCKING PLAN? IT WAS MINE. YOUR SO FUCKING LAZY, YOU HAD TO STEAL MY PLAN TO KEEP A SEAT IN THE ROBINS NEST." I screamed back, throwing another punch to his face. And again. And again.

Purple bruises bloomed across his face and blood coated it like icing. Kicked him in the groin, pushing him back out my cell door.

Like always the gate groaned but it slammed shut soon after. Alex laughed hysterically, locking the gate shut as he ran off down the hall.

I tried yelling after him, cursing him straight to hell. Yet as the rhythmic sound of knight armour clanged down the hall I felt myself slip into the warm embrace of darkness.

When I pulled myself back to reality, I could feel silk wrapped around my body.

My brain snapped awake and I rose almost immediately, the silk gathering at my waist. Some maids yelped at the sudden movement and I heard a cough, a lot of people shuffling around.

I blinked and slapped away a hand that was reaching for the silk.

"You would do well to respect the maids, Hood." King Hunter grumbled, his back facing me.

"What would you know of respect." I hissed, snatching the clothes a maid offered to me.

I pulled the shirt on tightening the strings over my chest. I pulled myself out of bed and slipped in the pants.

I rather my robes better but I'm probably never going back to the hoods. By now Alex would have told every hood of my 'treachery'.

"I was raised to value it. What about you?" He replied whole-heartedly.

"Why do you want to know? Trying to get in my head?" I inquired, stalking up behind him.

"Maids, your excused." He spoke up, ignoring me. They all dipped their heads and quickly high-tailed out of the room.

King Hunter whipped around and glared me down as the door shut with a lovely click.

"You are nothing. You have nothing. No one wants you but your enemies. Your creed doesn't want you. Why's that?" He jabbed a finger at my sore shoulder and I glared at the shoulder, as if it was the cause of this.

"Your majesty. Frankly, you don't have big shoes to fill. Women only love you because of your face and wealth. Your father was a deadbeat. What makes you think you'll be any better?" I growled back.

He reached out his hand toward my neck, I acted so quickly I barely noticed before my fist met his jaw aswell.

"Serves you right, you asshole." I growled watching him clutch his jaw and groan in pain.

"Jesus woman! I was going to fix your shirt. It's crude." He groaned,

"A little warning would have been nice!" I bit back.

"Duely noted!"

And as all fairy tales go, there is always more to a story. *Wink*

#storm7breaker posts #star wars #tbb #the bad batch hunter #the bad batch #tbb x reader #the bad batch x reader #star wars x reader #tbb hunter x reader

[foxlored]

Hunter & The Binary of Abuse Victims in Fandom

Warned you all I would be turning this into a full-length essay. I find the way that fandom culture treats fictionalized abuse victims endlessly fascinating, as it's such an interesting microcosm of societal views about abuse at large. The Owl House's fandom has been especially interesting in how its treated the topic, given the fact we have multiple characters that have histories of being abused, or in some way dealing with conflicting parental relationships, lending for definitely a wider array of nuance in discussion. Out of every fandom, this isn't the worst by far.

However, Hunter is definitely the more 'by the numbers' character in that realm of discussion, and one people seem more likely to latch onto and mischaracterize. So, I suppose this is just me trying to examine how exactly this is reflective of larger fandom patterns and so on.

As a quick heads up, this is going to be an essay obviously discussing abuse, but along with that specifically victimblaming, negative views towards abuse victims, etc. Just like, y'know, proceed with caution.

The dichotomy of the 'good' versus 'bad' victim

I'm sure there's a better way to succinctly describe it, but I do not have buzzwords on my side right now, so that's the short of it. A common pattern that seems to be present when discussing abuse is to rationalize why a victim was abused. If no "reason" can be found, then they are a "good victim" who's deserving of respect and sympathy. If something can be found to rationalize it, then the victim is branded as somehow deserving of their abuse. Obviously this isn't true, and the standards are oftentimes very arbitray. Whether a victim "fought back", or "left when they should've", or any number of things they "should've" done are thrown as reasons to blame a victim for their abuse.

But sometimes, miraculously, a victim manages to "win" the sympathy of onlookers (this being much more common for fictional characters than for real people, hooray for double standards and phony activism) and is branded a "good victim". You'd think that this would make things easier, that their trauma will actually be approached from a nuanced lens.... ha, no.

The role of the "good victim" is often one that characterizes them as hyperemotional, defenseless, helpless, essentially painting a caricature of someone who "couldn't defend themselves against their abuser" and is therefore pitiable. In fandom, this came in the form of the "smol bean that must be protected" (sorry to evoke 2016 onto you all), the "sad boi", or as TVtropes puts it: The Woobie. (And whaddya know, Hunter's actually on The Owl House subpage for the trope).

Hunter as a 'Good Victim'

To preface this section, I wouldn't say Hunter's place in this role has always been stable. In the same way that the way its given to real victims is conditional and subject to change, the same occurred in fandom response to Hunter. This was especially prevalent, IMO, around the time of Eclipse Lake's release and the hiatus that followed the end of Season 2A. I'll touch on that more later, but for now we'll be discussing the times in which he IS given fandom sympathy, and what that sympathy really means.

If there's one thing Owl House fans love discoursing about, its the way Hunter is treated in the fandom. I've seen this often played off as "hating neurodivergent* coded characters", but this is by far a bigger issue with the way we discuss abuse victims in fandom, as illustrated in the previous section.

( *People use the label interchangably with Autism & ADHD despite the fact Neurodivergency is a vast umbrella that includes PTSD/C-PTSD which Hunter would undoubtedly qualify for. People using the idea of ND-coding, from my experience, typically argue from the angle of Hunter being in some way autistic-coded, I'm not arguing he's not neurodivergent).

The core issue of this discussion is the way that Hunter is denied agency and autonomy from fans because of his abuse. The Huntlow discourse particularly comes to mind, whether or not a person can be ""too traumatized"' to engage in a romantic relationship. I'm not arguing for or against in either capacity, I think both sides did have good intentions and merit to arguments that got strawmanned in order to push ship discourse, but I digress. The point is that Hunter is a character that is reduced to his trauma, and whether intentionally or not, is seen as needing protection.

A healthy support network is good. Having people protect you from an abuser is good. But the way people take this borders on infantalization, often forgetting who they're talking about. Hunter is an extremely competent character, and within the show does as much "protecting" for his friends as he does in needing help. But because his identity is, to fans, intrinsically tied to the abuse he faces, he is in a way forever seen as a permavictim, feeding into this idea of needing to be protected.

When the idea of a 'Good Victim' falls apart

I'd like to take a quick detour here to also focus on that previously mentioned point in time where a lot of nasty victim-blaming sentiment came up, and how people really tend to hate victims of abuse... acting like victims of abuse.

Eclipse Lake was definitely one of Hunter's more noteworthy episodes, giving a better look as to his relationship with Belos, how it impacted his self esteem, and the fact that he really wasn't willing to let go of that. And whew, boy, did that make a LOT of people upset.

Because here was Amity, this character who'd gone through similar struggles, had similar negative thoughts, offering him help and a way to heal. And Hunter rejected that pretty blatantly in favor of pleasing his abuser. I won't explain why people were in the wrong for hating Hunter in that moment, its pretty obvious that of course the traumatized 16 year old wasn't just going to immediately abandoned everything he'd ever known in favor of people that have been, atleast from his POV, pretty fucking mean. (All love to our protagonists though!)

What I'm more interested in talking about is what exactly this means as a reflection of the way we talk about abuse. Because I think a lot of abuse "awareness" is contingent on playing up abusers as these cold, calculating monsters that plan each nice thing they do for their abuse victims as a way to ensnare them further under their control (And okay, in Belos' case that... actually isn't that far off, this is NOT going to be me going on about how "maybe belos wasn't that bad", jesus no). But that rhetoric harms both victims and outsiders.

For victims, it makes it harder to recognize they're being abused, because they don't think their abuser is this overtly manipulative person. Whether that is actually what's going on or not is case-by-case, but either way it makes it a lot harder to recognize when abuse is occurring because they see a human side to their abuser. They know their abuser has good moments that feel genuine to THEM. Meanwhile, to onlookers, and this is what's happening here in the fandom, if an abuser is an irredeemable monster that's lying about everything, then an abuse victim who apologizes for their abuser seems ridiculous.

We as the audience know Belos is a horrible person with no intention to do good. But Hunter DOESN'T know that. And every person who's telling him that's the case are people he has no reason to trust. That period of time where he was villified was based on our complete misunderstanding of what abuse can look like. Which plays into what the "bad victim" is.

Because while a "good victim" must be helpless and lacks any agency, for why else could they be abused, a "bad victim" CHOOSES to be abused. They're "bringing it onto themselves". Because if there is any reason you "could" prevent the abuse, and you don't, that's seen as a moral failing.

So what does this all mean?

I wish I had an actionable plan here, something to say "this is what you need to stop being weird about abuse" but... there really isn't that. This is a pattern that's prevalent in so many fandoms, and something that'll likely keep happening.

All I can say is that the best way to combat this is to be aware of what abuse actually looks like. Not the sensationalized stuff that's on television, I mean stories from real people. Accept that people who've dealt with abuse will have messy, complicated relationships with their abusers, and that they may have done or will do things that don't fit your view of what they "should've done". Trauma puts your brain into a completely different mindset, and it's hard to think rationally. Especially when the person you're dealing with isn't rational either.

Sorry this isn't the most pretty conclusion, or that I likely missed a few points I could've made. This is a tumblr post and I am just one fandomgoer that cares a lot about niche topics.

#dove rambles #dove does analysis #new tag for my longposts because i love talking about blorbos and what this means about Society #the owl house #hunter toh #im not even going to bother with finding out whats the popular last name hc rn #toh #media analysis

[heraldofcrow]

I literally figured out the best way to connect Djura and Eileen in Bloodborne because there IS actually a way that Djura’s, “Hey, every beast, every monster…was once a person. They still ARE people,”could influence Eileen and actually become relevant to her story.

—

There’s something to be said about Djura’s mentality and how it could clearly be a metaphor for how we see certain people in society. He’s sympathetic. He’s ahead of the game and is shockingly different compared to the people of Yharnam, who literally judge you as lesser and evil based on the fact that you’re an outsider alone.

Beasts? Being people? No way in hell would they accept that. It’s the same issue that Byrgenwerth and the Church had. If they could convince themselves that the sick and the ill were subhuman, then what would stop them from committing atrocities against them? This way too accurate to real life human history as well. We know plenty of examples, and Bloodborne imitates them flawlessly.

“No, these malformed aquatic creatures of this village are not human. It’s okay if we torture and mutilate them.”

“No, these vile-blooded fiends are subhuman. We can genocide them.”

“No, these people in Old Yharnam are all turning into beasts anyway. They lost their humanity. We can burn down their home and seal them away.”

—

Djura is considered a fool for what he does, but his kind heart and will to defend those that others consider monsters is incredibly admirable.

Eileen is similar in a sense because her goal is to mercy kill blood-drunk hunters and ensure they die true deaths. There’s honor in what she does even if she doesn’t believe it.

However, it’s clear that there’s also an element of refusal on her part to acknowledge that beasts and blood-drunks are the same. She warns the Good Hunter to keep their hands clean because a hunter should only hunt beasts, not people.

She warns us that there are no humans left, but that they are all beasts now. She knows that they were human once, but she seems to believe it no longer matters because of their transformation. I actually think this may subtly influence how she sees blood-drunks, whether she believes it or not.

We can kind of see it if we attack her during Henryk’s boss fight. The way she talks to us is fascinating.

"Aren't you a shame? You drunkard. Don't display your embarrasing form like a beast. I'll be your humble suicide assistant. You're a hunter, aren't you? Isn't that the true purpose of being a hunter?

Enough already...No one could blame you. Aren't you a shame? You drunkard."

—

This is the Japanese translation of course, but it still has the same energy we hear in English. There’s a tone of horror and disgust. To Eileen, it seems like she’s convinced that a drunkard is like a beast. They have taken on a shameful and low form. It’s not willful, but it’s definitely not a sign of true humanity either.

I theorize that Eileen may have lost heart at some point, and no longer sees her task for what it is. She thinks it’s sort of hopeless in a sense, because drunkards and beasts are really no different. At some point she believed that she was allowing hunters to die human deaths…but if beasts are human…then how is her work any different than a normal hunter’s?

I also love the theory that she’s on the edge of blood-drunkenness because of this, and even targeted someone like Henryk that was actually sane. She’s slipping.

But that’s where Djura could come in, because what would save Eileen from the madness of what she does could be the full acceptance of beasts being human. She would have to decide if she was willing to kill them, and since she was already a mercy-killer, she probably would. Not out of malice no, but in the way you shoot a wounded deer. That’s been Eileen’s profession as a crow since she began.

The problem is that she was clearly prepared for the “defilement” of becoming a crow, for the honor-less side to it. She willingly shouldered that burden. But did she do the same with beasts?

And when it became her close comrades losing their minds to the blood, did she accept that they were still human? That they were the same person? Did she tell herself they were monsters to get through the pain of having to see them change so much?

Accepting the truth about beasts could help Eileen to avoid giving the “safe” answer for why drunkards or monsters do what they do. You can’t separate the human from the beast. You have to accept that they are one and the same, even if sick.

That’s the whole point. If you accept that a person does what they do because of sickness and not because they’re an inhuman devil, you can show them mercy. That’s a rarity.

Djura chooses to do this by sparing them, and Eileen does this by way of mercy-kills and an honorable burial. They are similar, but Eileen clearly still struggles with it, and honestly who wouldn’t? Who would want to accept that they had so much blood on their hands?

Who would want to accept that someone you once cared for is absolutely unrecognizable and monstrous now? Who wouldn’t try to cope with that by saying that they simply aren’t human anymore?

No, that’s not the person I knew once…it can’t be them…

No, they’re just a mindless thing now, aren’t they…

(You all know what I’m thinking with that last part lol).

But Djura rejects that illusion and embraces it. They’re not monsters, they’re human. They were human. They are human. No type of sickness would ever change that, be it mental or physical.

Yes, Eileen your targets are no different from the beasts, because beasts are humans too. Yes, it’s horrific and depressing. Yes, it feels hopeless, but that’s why we need vessels of mercy like you and Djura.

They both get the idea, and while Eileen may struggle, I think there could be a lot of potential to dig into her psychology and how she could change her mind in the story. Djura could be a strong source of influence. That’s why I want to connect them.

Eileen very likely lost people in her life to blood-madness. That hurts, and exploring the ways in which a person would try to deal with that just fascinates me. It can be hard to watch someone you love change in a darker way, especially if you feel responsible for it.

In a world like Bloodborne, where actual beasthood is a possibility, who wouldn’t try to convince themselves that such a person had simply lost their humanity?

Aaaaand that’s where the drama comes in :)

—

Anyway, shoutout to Eileen and Djura. I love FromSoftware so much.

#I wrote this for one reason and i think you all know #lolol #ok no but in all seriousness i did want to explain what i was thinking about this because it was tormenting #i’m still trying to wrap my head around this #because there actually a fascinating duality with eileen here #hell it’s with every character in the story pretty much #but the story i have come up with for eileen really plays into it #i’m just obsessed with the obvious metaphor about society and mental illness in particular #obviously certain parts of history too but you know it’s just so common for people to see the mentally ill as “monsters” #like as if that person wasn’t the same as any of us and is just sick? #like if you get tuberculosis does that mean you aren’t human anymore? #of course not #the virus and the human are never the same #the demons in someones head are not who the person is #that actually reminds me of the league now wow #i think valtr was trying to eradicate the “vermin”or the virus in people and then lost sight of the difference of course lmao #this just keeps getting better #anyway i’m rambling #eileen the crow #retired hunter djura #bloodborne headcanons #bloodborne #CrowNotes

[teabreakpancakes]

A Pleasant Reunion Wu Chang x GN Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Warning: Mentions of hanging

italic is mandarin (one of the three Chinese languages)

(Name) was a government official just like Bi'an and Wujiu. They were all assigned to the same task and that's how they became friends, and slowly but surely, you all became lovers.

Sadly, it didn't stay the same forever.

You could vividly remember Bi'an's face as you both neared the bridge, the despair in his eyes as dark as the skies. Umbrella in hand, you rush to Wujiu's body that was floating beside the bridge.

Your trembling hands dropped the umbrella, pulling his body into your lap as tears blurred your vision, the sound of the rain hitting the ground inaudible as your cries echoed.

Bi'an falls to the ground beside you, tears streaming down his face as he wraps his arms around you both, whispering countless apologies with his trembling voice.

Hours passed with you both in the same position, just like that, you both had lost a brother and a lover.

Things were never the same after that, countless nights were filled with tears and guilt that just seemed to weigh you both down more and more with each day that passed.

You'd hear Wujiu's voice sometimes, looking around to see no one, desperate to see the taller man once more.

Bi'an was more out of it, giving you weak smiles, losing Wujiu had taken a huge toll on both of your lives. The bed felt emptier, the house felt colder and it felt like it was never gonna get better.

You and Bi'an would lay next to each other, talking about how Wujiu probably would've laughed at you both if he could see you both crying like babies.

Bi'an stared into your eyes, "How can you still love me despite knowing that he died because he listened to me?" his voice trembling as tightened his hold on the table.

(Name)'s eyes widened in realisation, "Have you had these thoughts the entire time dear?" reaching up to cup his cheek, "Hey don't blame yourself, don't beat yourself up over it okay? I'm at fault too so don't take the blame all by yourself" they stroked his cheek, walking over to his side of the table.

"If anything, let's blame the flood for it! the rain is to blame!" raising both their fists and saying absurd words in hope of making their lover laugh.

Bi'an's soft chuckle makes the embarrassment of blaming the rain of all things made it a bit less humiliating.

That night, the two hanged themselves below the bridge.

Strangely enough, (Name) woke up alone under the bridge, staring directly at their hanging corpse, screaming and backing away.

It seemed that they were a ghost now.

They looked around for signs of Bi'an, dejected when they find nothing.

They find a letter on the ground. Ripping it open, their eyes bulge in pure disbelief. They resist the urge to curse out how stupid both the letter and the writer are.

'你最好不要说谎你这个混蛋'(you better not be lying you bastard) they thought as they read the contents once more, rolling their eyes at how preposterous it was.

The letter said that Bi'an and Wujiu were at Oletus Manor, playing the game in hopes of finding you, it said that someone would pick them up above the bridge if they burnt the wax seal on the letter.

They shrugged, burning the seal and waiting for whoever was gonna pick them up.

They facepalm, "I'm dead, how are they gonna see me huh, this is stupid" only to be shut up by the sound of a carriage approaching.

The carriage stops in front of them, the coachman stepping down and bowing to them. He opened the door for them, "I will be taking you to Oletus Manor, please take a seat".

At that point, they just accepted the bizarre situation, choosing to think about their fiancés, the engagement ring on their finger shining because of the moonlight that seeped through the carriage's windows.

They fall into a deep sleep for some reason, the coachman laughing and taking the more human appearance of The Ripper after taking the ring off his finger.

"I wonder, will they be a hunter or a survivor" The man said to no one in particular, a grin overtaking his handsome face as the carriage raced into the night.

(Name) wakes up in the Manor's garden, a letter in hand as they dust themselves off. Picking up the bag beside them, they looked into it, startled to see some of their things from their home.

Opening the letter, they read instructions they had to follow in order to meet Bi'an and Wuiju who are apparently within the large manor’s vicinity that they could see past the tall hedges.

Ignoring the fact that they were wearing their hanfu, they ran through the garden, rushing past the other people in it, head moving from side to side in search of their lovers—well, in this case, one of them.

Their eyes land on a tall man with long braided hair, a familiar umbrella in his right hand and a ring similar to their own on his left.

(Name) runs towards him, the man looking back as shock paints his face when they tackle him to the ground using all their might.

“你这个混蛋!” (you bastard) (Name) shouts while shaking the freakishly tall man by the collar of his guard uniform. Bi’an nuzzles into their neck, apologising continuously as happy tears dripped down his face—ignoring the fact that he is being shaken by the smaller person in his lap.

“Where’s wujiu? the letter said he was here too” (Name) muttered into Bi’an’s chest, tears welling up in their eyes.

“our souls were merged into one, he currently resides in this umbrella” Bi’an raises the umbrella in one of his hands, showing it to them.

“i have to say, I’m kind of glad i wasn’t merged with you two, i would not like being in an umbrella” (Name) jokes, poking the white guard's chest while looking up at him with a teasing look in their eyes.

A hearty laugh leaves Bi’an, his gaze loving as he leans down to whisper in their ears. “Would you like to see fan? I will replace his spot in the umbrella though”

Their cheeks flush from how close he is—despite being dead— “Can I? I miss him too” they whisper back, shivering from Bi’an’s breath that kept fanning their neck.

“Alright then, let’s stand up first though and get to somewhere more private” Bi’an picks them up with one hand, the other holding the umbrella.

He took long strides, entering the manor and going through the maze-like halls, finally reaching their room after a few minutes of walking.

He sits them down on the large bed in the corner of the room, standing up and holding the umbrella in his hand, facing the point upward.

“Alright, i’ll be switching with Wujiu now, but do not fret, i’ll be within the umbrella dear” Bi’an said, patting them on the head and kissing them in the lips.

He opened the umbrella, disappearing before reappearing as a similar looking man wearing different clothes.

Fan blinked repeatedly, “love? is that actually you? or am i seeing things?” he massaged the bridge of his nose, contemplating about whether or not he’s gone insane .

(Name) squeals, hugging him with all their might. “WUJIU, IT REALLY IS YOU”

i'll likely make a part two, i've been writing for three hours, even longer if i count the plot(that i didn't use) i wrote for this last night

#lawless.writes #idv.writing #idv wu chang #identity v #wu chang x reader #xie bian #fan wujiu #fan wujiu x reader #gn reader #idv x reader #idv xie bian #idv fan wujiu #wu chang idv #identity v wu chang

[ohwynne]

Vampires suck // Emilio & Wynne

PARTIES: Emilio @mortemoppetere & Wynne @ohwynne LOCATION: Wormwoods. TIMING: Early April CONTENT WARNINGS: N/A SUMMARY: Wynne's existential late night walk is interrupted by Emilio hunting some ustras that caught their smell. An unexpected team up follows which leaves the vampires defeated.

It’d been two years since the massacre in Etla, and Emilio was still getting used to hunting alone. It hadn’t been unheard of, back home, to go out on a hunt by yourself — some things didn’t really require a group to take out, after all, and wasting resources by sending multiple hunters on an easy job didn’t make much sense — but backup had always been an option before. He’d had his siblings, his uncle, Juliana, Rhett, Gabriel. His mother, on the days when he thought she might answer if he called. 

That wasn’t the case anymore. In Wicked’s Rest, when Emilio got wind of something that needed killing, there was no one he could trust to help him kill it. But an ustra wandering the woods turning bones to mush wasn’t the kind of thing you could leave alone, and Emilio didn’t particularly feel like trying to meet any other hunters. So… he was alone. Running through the woods like a madman with a knife in one hand and a vial of holy water in the other, cursing under his breath in a string of wild Spanish. He’d come out here for one ustra, which would have been easy enough; three was a little more difficult. 

Christ, this would be a stupid way to die.

It was hard to pay attention to where he was going even with his enhanced night vision, considering he was running for his fucking life on unfamiliar terrain. That was his excuse for barreling into the kid. The force of the impact coupled with his bad leg was almost enough to topple the hunter over, but he managed to stay on his feet through sheer luck. Wild eyes darted to the kid he’d run down, and he squinted at them carefully. “You should get out of here,” he suggested. “Now.” 

—

A silent wood was more haunting than a noisy one, that much Wynne knew, and so there was some comfort in the sounds surrounding them. It was late, too late to be out on one's own perhaps — but they found themselves in need of the constant movement of walking. One foot after the other, that therapeutic and natural beat combined with the crunch of leaves, a hint of moonshine, an owl hooting, some bug crittering. It was as close to peace as they tended to get those days, at least until one of the sounds seemed less natural. Rather beyond it. 

While curious, they had very little interest in fucking around and finding out in this instance. No, Wynne preferred to apply a philosophy of fucking off and living in ignorance from time to time, and so they picked up the pace. In the back of their mind circled the thought of home, of their entity, the impending retribution that had not yet come. There was more rustling, a screech — Wynne picked up their pace, sticking to the path. Another thought popped up: what if they were imagining things again? A mind was so feeble, so easily misguided and when misguided, so easily warped. They had been straying off the beaten path these past months. 

They blamed their frazzled mind on their inability to look ahead, body colliding with another. One heading towards the (possibly-imagined) sounds. As wide eyes met wide eyes, Wynne had a sinking realisation that perhaps there really was something in the woods. “I am working on it,” they nearly exclaimed, tossing a look over their shoulder before looking back at the stranger, “Though maybe you ought to do the same?” 

—

Working on it. Good. There was some relief in that, because while Emilio had known that they were young when he’d first stumbled upon them, further inspection of the figure in front of him now affirmed the fact that they really were just a kid. Probably not much older than twenty. Definitely too young to get their bones turned to mush in the middle of the woods late at night. There was something funny about that line of thinking, coming from him. Emilio had been ready to martyr himself for his cause at twelve, was still eager for it now, but when it came to other people? He looked at them, and all he could think of was Flora. Like all the protective rage he’d felt for her hadn’t died along with her but been transported instead, passed along to anyone who was close enough to take it. This kid shouldn’t be alone in the woods in the middle of the night, but they certainly wouldn’t die here. Emilio wouldn’t let them.

It also made their concern a little… weird. Emilio let out a quiet huff of air that was half a laugh, glancing behind him where he knew the ustras were gaining. He could take them if he had a moment to think of a plan. It was just the thinking that was hard. It had never been the kind of thing he was particularly good at.

“Not really in the cards for me, kid. I don’t take these things out, somebody’s going to die.” Maybe them. “You run. I’ll make sure they don’t follow you. Okay? Go on.”

—

When they’d run from the estate, they’d felt like this. As if there was something breathing down their back, licking at their heels, slithering over the ground in their direction — Wynne had never really known what the entity they and the rest of their people owed their life to, and so it appeared to them in many shapes and sizes. That was what they imagined now, behind them and in front of the other: something that demanded, that devoured if not pleased. And while their instincts always led to obedience and no questions asked, they now looked at the other with wide, quizzical eyes.

“What are you on about?” If this was not imagined, not just their mind playing tricks on them, then there must be an explanation. “What things?” All they knew of placating hungry things was sacrifice, and that too was something they preferred outrunning. Perhaps this was their comeuppance, something demanding that they finally lay down their life as had been intended.

Wynne was tired of inaction, of blind obedience, of fear. “No, what! I’m just supposed to believe you at your word, that this is some murderous thing and let you run right at it?” Martyrdom was another thing they had tired of some time ago.

—

He didn’t have time for this. He’d been working under the assumption that, if the kid was out in the woods in the middle of the night, they knew what was out there. Evidently, it had been the wrong assumption to make. They were lucky, Emilio figured, that he was the one who’d stumbled upon them; someone else might have used that ignorance against them, weaponized it and made it into an advantage. 

But… they weren’t too lucky. A little luckier, and they might have been met with someone who knew how to explain why he was running, someone who could give them a real answer without freaking them out. Emilio didn’t know how to do that. His experience with kids had always been hunter kids. Tiny, deadly things who learned about creatures of the night before they learned to walk. Kids in their twenties who didn’t know what they were running from in the woods at night were far, far out of Emilio’s wheelhouse. 

“Just… Don’t worry about it. It’s nothing. Just go.” He waved a hand at them, as if trying to usher them forward. It was just his luck that they didn’t move. Instead, they looked at him. Or… maybe that wasn’t quite right. It felt more like they looked through him, with how accurately they managed to call him out. And god, he didn’t have time for that, either. “Even if I were, it wouldn’t be for you to worry about. Would it? I’m a stranger. What does it matter if I run at some murderous thing? You worry about yourself, kid.”

—

Wynne had been a little under a decade when their predecessor had stepped onto the Protherian’s altar and met their honorable fate. Blood had dripped onto the earth and mixed with the dried flowers and fruits that lay at its feet. Sacrifice was the highest honor for a living person amongst their people: to offer one's life for the betterment of that of others. A mantra they’d learn to live by in subsequent years, never quite able to forget the look in that boy’s eyes before he’d risen to his fateful task. There was honor in martyring oneself  — there was a point to it, a higher purpose, or so the lessons went. Or so they told them, braiding flowers in their hair. 

Whether it was bullshit or not, Wynne wasn’t sure: but they had turned from that purpose all the same. While still unsure what to do with this, this time they had never thought they’d have — they did know this: sacrifice seemed meaningless. It didn’t rule most people’s lives the way it had theirs and their family. And they all seemed fine. Wynne themself seemed fine, with their heart still beating and nothing having come to collect what they were owed. Yet. Unless this was it.

So to let a stranger run into uncertain death went against newfound instinct and philosophy. And though Wynne wasn’t sure who they were any more, they did know they didn’t want to be a coward again. That there were certain principles solidifying in their mind they wished to cling to. “It’s clearly not nothing, and what is it with your people’s insistence on not caring about those around you?” They all needed a lesson on living more community-minded, but now was hardly the time for such a rant. “Of course it matters! So what is it, out there, and why are we not both running?”

—

They were stubborn. The kind of stubborn that dug its heels into the sand and refused to move until it got whatever it was it wanted, the kind of stubborn that never accepted an answer that wasn’t what it wanted to hear, the kind of stubborn that got people killed and left the world around them a little bit emptier because of it. Stubborn was only ever useful until it wasn’t, was a virtue up until the exact moment it became a vice. And that moment was fast approaching now, hot on the slayer’s heels. He’d led it right to them without meaning to, carved a perfect path through the woods and straight to those heels dug firmly into the sand. 

He couldn’t be responsible for what happened next, couldn’t be the reason this thing found them when it might not have otherwise. Emilio had gotten enough kids killed already; he didn’t need to add another one to the damn list. But how could he get them to go when they were so insistent on staying? His personal brand of stubborn had been waning since the massacre in Mexico. It was so much easier to give in, these days.

But he wanted this kid safe, and that lit something up in his chest. There were parts of him that had been dark for years now, but they still glowed sometimes. Maybe he wasn’t a father in any kind of way that counted anymore, but the instincts still remained. “I am trying,” he ground out, “to take care of the people around me. That’s what I’m trying to do. That’s why I told you to — I don’t have time for this. You’re running because you’re a kid. I’m not running because I’m an adult. How is that, hm? Is that good?”

—

The human instinct to live was strong in Wynne — strong enough to defy what they had been taught all their life, to turn their back on a family, a community, a demon. And yet here they stood, feet rooted into the ground, staring at someone larger, older and presumably much wiser than them (though the bar was low, in that regard), refusing. Instincts went head to head, mixed with a rising panic in their chest and Wynne told themself that they had been selfish before and could do it again. Why care about this stranger, when they had abandoned their family to certain death only months ago?

There was so much they didn’t know and understand about the scene unfolding around them and maybe it would be good to trust that the other knew what he was doing. But Wynne’s chest was already so tight with guilt, these days, and as they heard another screech their stomach only sank. What was left, then, besides truth? If that was even what it could be called, though Wynne felt that it was reality. There were little other explanations, now were there?

“No, not good — see, I think it wants me, whatever it is,” they said, as the sounds grew closer. It was either that or the world was filled with more cruel creatures than the one they had once answered to. They weren’t sure which was preferable. Wynne’s head whipped back once more, then looked at the other. “How do I know it’ll be alright? I don’t —” There was a sharp intake of breath. “Won��t let you just run to your death, no matter how old you are.”

—

I think it wants me. The statement was perplexing, and Emilio furrowed his brow. As far as he knew, ustras were opportunists. They didn’t target anyone specifically, didn’t track people down without reason. They were only chasing him because he’d tried to kill them; it was more self preservation than pursuit, on their part. The idea that they were looking for this kid, specifically, didn’t make much sense to him. It was probably just a bit of confusion on their part, and he knew it, but… They said it with such conviction. With certainty. Like they had some reason to believe it.

Like something, somewhere was after them, even if it wasn’t this. 

Emilio studied them for a moment despite not really having the time, eyes darting over their face as he tried to puzzle out what it was that might be after them. Fae had a tendency to hyperfocus on a single victim sometimes, didn’t they? Was it something like that? Those were always the monsters he felt least capable of dispatching. He’d been fighting the undead all his life, and he’d taken it upon himself to learn more about shapeshifters and beasts when he and Juliana got together, but he’d always left the fae to the wardens. If there was something like that after this kid, he wasn’t sure how much he’d be able to help them.

(And there was never any question, in Emilio’s mind, as to whether or not he would help them. There was a kid, and they needed someone. He didn’t need any more reason than that.)

His train of thought was abruptly cut off by the screech of one of the approaching ustras, and he cursed quietly. “Listen to me,” he said, gripping the kid’s shoulders and lowering himself to meet their eyes with a determined gaze. “These things are not after you. Okay? They’re after me. I still think you should leave. But if you’re not going to, you can help, yes?” He fumbled in his pocket for a moment, pulling out a particularly sharp knife and holding it out with the handle towards them. “They will try to attack you from far away. Don’t let them get you with their tongue, or their spit. Get in close, and use this. Their skin is easy to cut. I just need you to distract them, then get away when I say. Make sure you get away. Fire is the best way to kill them, so… I am going to do that.” The lighter in his pocket wasn’t the best weapon in his arsenal, but if he fashioned a torch out of a few items on the forest floor, the ustras would go up easily enough.

—

Their chest was moving up and down on its own accord, breaths moving faster than was typical. Back at home, when this would happen, they’d press their hands on their collarbones and hum a hymn, breathe in tandem with those present — but home was no more and this was hardly the place. They just looked at the other, and he looked back and it felt for a moment like they stood there like that forever. Not exactly sizing each other up the way predators would, but more like two kinds of prey who responded differently to being cornered. Wynne had fawned and freezed and fled before, and it seemed the other only had one answer. Fight, alone.

Wynne swayed from the impact of his hands on their shoulders, head drooping slightly now that he was meeting them at the same height. There was something steady about it, the way he looked at them and spoke, and yet they still felt unsteady. A gust of air escaped their mouth, the one they’d been holding. Even if he was right, and it wasn’t after them, Wynne was starting to be aware of one thing: they’d rather risk their chances with this stranger, than leg it. Out of both selfishness and selflessness, if such a thing was possible. And while for a moment, they did stare at the knife, they eventually closed their fingers around it. They tried very hard not to think about the moon’s reflection on its blade, how similar it looked to blades wielded before. That had always been to earthly, normal creatures though.

“Okay.” The echo of his question was too late, but it was there. “Okay.” They press the palm of their hand against their chest for a moment, breathing in and out. Whatever was out there was gaining on them, the absence of owls hooting and other night-critters moving more and more absent. Wynne backed away a little, turning around to face the direction the unnatural sounds came from. The knife was held in front of them, clumsily. “What is it, out there?” It was the only question they knew to ask, besides all the other ones dizzying their head — like why he was out there, or how he knew, and if he, by any chance, knew anything about demons, and why they couldn’t just run and get to a place where the door could be barred and Wynne could level their breathing. Maybe they had wasted their opportunity to run, though, through loitering and arguing. 

That much turned out to be true when Wynne saw it, in the distance. Something white and slimy, gaining ground on them. 

—

It wasn’t anything like staring at a mirror, looking at them. Their eyes were wide in a way he didn’t think his had ever been, their chest moving rapidly in a way his did, sometimes, but not in situations like this. Panic, for Emilio, didn’t come when the danger was near. The idea of dying was never the thing that set him off. He knew how to handle things that wanted to kill him, had made peace with the inevitability of it so long ago that he no longer knew what it felt like to not accept the possibility. No, Emilio found unsteady ground in the mundane moments. Buying groceries, walking the dog, having a conversation. Life or death situations made sense to him. It was the situations that were life alone that always managed to throw him terribly off balance. 

They weren’t much like Flora, either, if he was being honest. She’d been so young when she’d died, but already she’d carried some of that weight that all hunters bore. Already she’d known what lived in the shadows. Emilio didn’t know if she’d been afraid of it. That kept him up sometimes, the not knowing. The idea that, when she’d died, she’d died afraid. He couldn’t change it either way now, couldn’t comfort someone who was already gone. But… maybe he could do something for this kid instead. Make their breaths come a little easier, make that look in their eyes a little less haunted even if it was only for this moment, even if he never saw them again. You couldn’t save everyone, but sometimes you could hand them a knife. Sometimes you had to pretend that it was the same thing.

“Okay,” he said again, nodding his head. They took the knife, and he turned back towards the approaching noise. At their question, he grimaced. “Easier to tell you after, I think. Don’t worry about it now. When we’re finished, I can explain.” Knowing what they were fighting wouldn’t do anything for them except for perhaps make them a little more afraid. Knowing you were fighting a monster didn’t really make the fighting any easier. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know, okay? We just have to finish it first.” They just had to survive it first.

The approaching ustras cut off anything else he might have said, and Emilio had to hope that the kid could sufficiently distract them while he fashioned a torch. They were far enough from the water now that they’d already be beginning to dry out, so setting them aflame shouldn’t be too difficult. If he got close enough to them, they’d go up easy. He picked up a stick from the forest floor, ripping the sleeve off his shirt with his teeth and soaking the fabric in some of the alcohol from his flask to make it more flammable, glancing up to see how the kid was faring. 

—

Wynne had known they would die young at the age of ten. That much had been predetermined for them, even before they were born, and for a decade they had accepted that reality. A certain future ahead. It was to be a short but meaningful life, more meaningful than anyone could ever hope to live — and yet here they were, breathing in and out, so awfully alive and so horribly aware of it. Their chest ached with it. Their heart hammered with it. Maybe this, whatever this creature was, was fate catching up with them, but did it matter? The most primal of instincts surged through them: the instinct to live. The refusal to die by some grander design. Half a year ago, it had pushed them towards theft and escape, and today it pushed them to hold a knife a little tighter.

None of that to say that they weren’t afraid and feeling incredibly out of their depth, but adrenaline was making itself known. They gave a nod of their head. “Okay.” There was no time for preparation, no time to wield their knife and consider the best way to use it. Wynne had used a hunter’s knife before, albeit only on smaller creatures, prey animals that needed skinning or draining. There was no time to reconsider. 

The creatures came closer and Wynne recalled the other’s words, attempting to duck out of sight. Get in close, he’d said, and while instincts begged them to run or hide, to throw themself flat against the ground, they pushed themself forward through the cover overgrowth. A yelp of shock slipped past their lips as they got a better look at the creatures – three of them, looking significantly different than the demon they answered to – and it was enough to draw them in. It hadn’t been their intention to do as much, but it did seem to align with what the stranger had asked of them.

A slashing movement with the knife did little except cut some leaves of a bush, and Wynne yelped once more as a big wad of saliva was spit their way. Instinctively, they ducked to the side, rolling over the ground. Crawling on all fours, they moved forward, bringing down the knife in one of their feet — or perhaps paws was the better word. 

—

Was it better, Emilio wondered, to be handed a knife you didn’t know how to use, or to be raised with one in your hand? With Flora, he’d been petrified at the idea of raising her the way he’d been raised, terrified of his daughter ending up anything like him, of her feeling the things he felt. But was this better? To be handed a knife when the fight was too close to train for, to be given the barest instruction without time for anything more? Flora died defenseless after all, unable to do even the bare minimum to protect herself, unable to stall for time until Emilio arrived. If you refused to give a child a knife until they needed it, were you protecting them or dooming them? He didn’t know. He still didn’t know. And he hated himself, just a little, for that.

He kept an eye on them as he prepared his torch, heart pounding in his chest with something that might have been adrenaline and might have been that old fear that he’d never quite gotten rid of. It was clear they weren’t trained, but they weren’t dead yet, either. He just needed them to hold up until…

There. With the torch properly prepped, Emilio flicked his lighter, flames licking the soaked fabric as he rushed forward. “All right, kid, move,” he yelled, motioning for them to get back. He needed them away from the ustras when he set them aflame, otherwise he ran the risk of burning them up along with the monsters. And that was just about the last thing he wanted to do here.

—

There was a crunch beneath their movement, the creature’s foot-or-paw giving way for the knife. They had no time to register it to its full extent, and were only wise enough to pull the weapon back and hold onto it. It wasn’t in Wynne’s nature to attack, but it seemed to be in everyone’s nature to fight to stay alive. They tightened their grip on the weapon once more, but it seemed like another strike was not needed.

What they had, albeit unconsciously, been waiting for was thrown their way: the demand to get out of the way, to let the real adult get to work. Wynne didn’t know how to do most of the things expected of them, let alone fight a creature they had never seen before. They clambered up to their feet and ran, creating distance between themselves and the monsters as the licking flames the other had produced lit the scene. 

In the newly gained light, the creatures were more horrifying and Wynne let out a sound without meaning to. It sounded nearly as animalistic as the things in front of them, but they soon realised one thing: this wasn’t gythraul, unless It had taken a different form and changed itself into three separate entities. This was something else entirely and that made the earth beneath their feet feel shaky. They backed away more, heartbeat rising again, their eyes pulled toward the flames and the person they hoped knew what he was doing. 

—

The kid was quick on their feet, and Emilio took a moment to be grateful for it as he moved in. Almost as soon as the command to move was out of his mouth, it was being followed. Like they’d been waiting on it, like they’d never wanted to fight at all, like he’d put a knife in the hand of a kid who’d never had to hold one like this because that was the only thing he’d ever known how to do. The kid was quick on their feet, but they shouldn’t have had to be. A better hunter wouldn’t have led the fight right to them. Emilio knew that.

But there was no changing that now. All he could do was move forward, was lower that torch to one ustra and let it light the rest up. He was lucky they’d gotten so dried out, lucky they stood close together as they prepared to attack. It made the getting rid of them that much easier, ensured they all went up like a goddamn pile of dry leaves in a summer drought. Flames rose up from the creatures as they screamed, inhuman sounds mingling with the kid’s distressed noise. Emilio swallowed, feeling guilty, somehow, feeling like he’d made a mistake, like he’d broken something in a new way when it was already in pieces. 

After a few moments, the screaming died down. The figures collapsed, one by one, and Emilio moved towards them, stomping out the smaller flames and tossing his jacket over the larger ones until the fire was out. Sweat pricked the back of his neck, but he didn’t know if it was from the heat or the nausea tugging at his gut as he avoided looking at the terrified kid, the one that was backing farther and farther away from him. He’d saved them. Kept them alive in the face of danger that probably wouldn’t have found them to begin with if he hadn’t led it right to them. Did he celebrate that, or mourn it? Was this a win, or another loss to add to the pile? He ached with the fact that he couldn’t tell the difference anymore. 

“It’s all right,” he told the kid, even if he wasn’t really sure it was true. “They’re done now, see? Can’t hurt anybody anymore. You, uh… You did good. With the distraction. You did a good job.”

—

As the flames licked up and up and up, devouring the creatures with no name, Wynne backed away. Trembling fingers held onto the knife as their footsteps moved further into the woods until their shoulders hit a tree. There, they moved to sink down, resting hands on their knees as their mind attempted to play catch-up on what had just occurred. On what it implied. They had known there was more to this world than the rest of the world might prefer to believe, but this hadn’t been in any of their teachings. This opened up a world of terrifying possibilities.

They watched the other get to work methodically, as if he had done this before. How exhausting it was becoming, to constantly feel out of their depth, to always feel like they were on the outside looking into something they didn’t get. But where in most situations Wynne wanted to know, had to know — they weren’t so sure if they wanted to now. Maybe it would have been best if they had just run, had chosen to look away and drown in ignorance once more. And they told themself that they were okay with not knowing. That they could live on without finding out what their actions had led to, back on the estate. But it woke them up in the middle of the night and sometimes they had to hide in the back from the store as doom-scenarios appeared to them. What good had ignorance ever done for them? 

When the stranger addressed them, they became aware of how they were sitting there. Wynne tried to relax, to not seem like they were on the verge of tears. They had been good at this once: keeping composure. It had been expected of them. But they weren’t sure what was expected of them any more, these days. “They’re gone,” they confirmed, staring at the smoke for a moment. They pushed themself up, moving towards the other and extending the knife handle first. There was still something dripping off it. Wynne wasn’t sure if it could be called blood. “What were they?” If ignorance had never done them any favors, why not ask? Even if the answer might unsettle them more. 

They looked over their shoulder, back to the path. At least their sense of navigation still remained. “Can we go?” 

—

The kid looked terrified. Emilio couldn’t imagine how it felt, seeing something like that for the first time. He couldn’t remember the first undead thing he’d seen, couldn’t even clearly remember the first undead thing he’d been expected to fight. His mother had insisted on starting her children off in training so early that there were days where it felt as if Emilio had been born with a stake in his hand, fending off vampires in his crib. To have your eyes opened at this age, and in this way… He didn’t envy them. All those years of ignorance didn’t seem much like bliss when this was how that ignorance ended. 

Unfortunately, he didn’t know how to comfort them, either. Flora had been easy — she’d been so young, and already seen so much. She wasn’t afraid of the monsters under her bed because she’d been taught their names from an early age, even if Emilio had refused to train her the way his mother had trained him. She’d known, from the beginning, that there were people in her life who’d protect her from the things that went bump in the night. She’d known it was what those people were there for. (And Emilio hadn’t. When it counted, he hadn’t protected her at all. He tried not to think about that, even when it was hard to think of anything but.)

Reaching forward, he took the knife from the kid and wiped the blade on his pants before offering it back to them. “You should keep it,” he told them. “You might need it down the line, right?” At the question, he sighed. He had promised to explain things to them, hadn’t he? “They’re called ustras. Most of the time, you find them near water, but these ones were after me. I got into their nest, riled them up. They’d been causing problems in the area. They’re dangerous. Kill people. So… I try to take them out, when I can. That’s what I do.” How much could he tell them without terrifying them further? Where was the line between providing them with the knowledge they might need to protect themself and frightening them so completely that they’d never want to move again? He wished he knew.

A little surprised at the question’s wording — we? He would have thought they’d be looking to get as far away from him as possible. — Emilio hesitated for a moment before nodding. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I’m done. It’s safe.”

—

The world had been so limited, back home. It had felt wide and vast back when they’d been in it, but since their running off they had quickly realized that the world was wider and vaster than they could have ever imagined. It had started with libraries and language, media and internet, the fashion and the attitudes and the individualistic ways of living. But then it continued, the snowball of learning new things continuing to roll and roll and roll. Perhaps Wynne should be used to shock, by now, but their body still shook. They still weren’t sure how to digest this world.

Their curiosity helped, offering answers when people wanted to give them and otherwise pushing them towards research. The other offered an answer, twisting his mouth to speak a word they had never heard before: ustras. Creatures who killed people. Creatures this person killed. Wynne's mind did what it had done so much before: it played catch up. Took the information it was given and tried to make it into something digestible. All this while the other offered them the sharp knife back.

They stared at it for a moment before taking it back. Wynne didn't ask what they might need it for down the line. They just imagined handmade leather wrapped around it, to keep it safe. They missed Osian, who could shape leather into anything useful. "Right," they said, a beat too late. "Thanks." If this is what he did, then maybe — but their mind didn't want to go there. To that area where they began to wonder what the gythraul might have done to their family and loved ones since their escape. Even calling it that – escape – was almost too big an ask. "Just them?" The question did fall out of their mouth in the end, curiosity insatiable. Once, they had been taught that greed of any kind (which included that for information) always came at a price. They tried to form a more fitting response. "Ustras. Us-tras. Okay."

There was some hesitation in the other and Wynne tried not to see themself in it. "Okay." The knife was still in their hand. They didn't want to just stick it in their pocket. "Okay, let's go." They started to walk, back to where they should have never left. "I'm Wynne." That seemed only fair. To offer a name, after all this.

—

The kid took the knife back, wrapped their hand around the handle with only a moment’s hesitation, and Emilio wasn’t sure if that feeling in his stomach was relief or dread. It was better, he thought, that they had something to protect themself in this town. It was better that they had something sharp and deadly, but god, he wished they didn’t have to. He wished they lived in a world where kids like this never had to learn about things like that, wished they lived in a world where his own daughter could have grown to be this age without scars, without training, without dying long before she ever got the chance to be anything at all. 

But that world didn’t exist. This kid had gotten a good twenty years of living without knowing what undead things went bump in the night, and they were lucky it hadn’t killed them. If Emilio hadn’t been here, maybe it would have this time. Because even if he hadn’t unintentionally led the ustras to them, something would have found them in these woods eventually. Something always did. The dozens of missing persons cases that came across his desk destined to end in tragedy were proof enough of that.

“No,” he admitted quietly, glancing back at the ash that was left where the ustras had been, “not just them. I can tell you about all of it, kid, but not tonight. Not here.” There were more things in these woods than what they’d just teamed up to kill, and Emilio was tired. Maybe not physically — it took more than a fight of this magnitude to wear him out, even when he was running on very little sleep — but mentally. Emotionally. Kids always did that to him, always ripped out whatever was left of the thing in his chest and stomped it into the dirt. It wasn’t their fault, of course; it was no one’s fault but Emilio’s. He’d always been a little too soft. His mother had always been quick to point that out.

He hesitated only a moment before falling in step beside them, shoulders a little stiff as if he was carrying something on them, as if he had been for years now. When they offered him their name, he put it away in that back corner of his mind, pausing a moment before replying. “Emilio.” Might as well share it. “I’d say it’s good to meet you, but I think it might have been better if we’d met some other way.”

—

The woods were dark around them and the regular sounds had returned and Wynne was overtaken by a feeling of familiar fatigue. Adrenaline made place for weariness, for the feeling they kept coming back to. How much more of this? This feeling out of their depth, this wondering if this was a better way of living in the first place. And yet their heart hammered with it, their state of aliveness. Death could have come for them today, the way it should have come for them half a year ago and once more they had escaped.

It didn’t make them smile or celebrate, but it made them clutch that knife a little tighter. A blade would have been their undoing and now they had wielded one. They look at the other, at his offer to answer questions even if not tonight. Wynne gave a small nod of their head, swallowing questions of whether he knew of demons. They weren’t sure they wanted answers, anyway, to expose themself in such a way. 

“That’s okay. It’s late.” It had to be, by now. It had been late when Wynne had left home, their legs too restless to rest and their mind running rounds around itself. This had not helped the situation, even if there was a part of them that was sure that if they were to sink down now, they would never get up. They longed for their bedroom, the four walls of it. The privacy to whimper and breathe faster than good for their lungs. They longed for a shower. They longed for — no, they refused to do that. To long for home. Their brother, maybe they’d afford themself that: to long for his friendship and comfort.

Perhaps it was naivety, they did consider that reality, but Wynne decided to trust the other. At least for this walk out of the woods and at least enough to try and find him again, if their curiosity stuck with them. “Likewise. On both fronts.” They checked their phone, pulling up their map. “I’m not too far from here.”

—

There would be no questions tonight and, oddly, Emilio found that he didn’t entirely dread the future in which they would appear. He wasn’t much of a talker — anyone who knew him well could attest to that. He wasn’t entirely comfortable in English, wasn’t even entirely at home in Spanish. He’d been taught action over words, and it was a lesson that stuck. Often times, the latter failed him. How did you explain something you’d understood from the time you knew your own name? How did you teach someone things that had always been inherently true for you? He wasn’t sure he knew. 

And yet, somehow, he thought he might try to figure it out. For this kid, for the next one. He couldn’t save his kid, but he could save someone’s. Maybe if he did enough of that, that ache in his chest might feel a little less unbearable someday. 

(He didn’t believe it, even as the thought occurred to him. Nothing could make this bearable. Nothing.) 

Offering Wynne a small nod, he gestured for them to go ahead. “I’m not, either. I’ll walk you. Make sure nothing else comes up.” He couldn’t promise them tomorrow in a town like this, but… He could promise that he’d do everything he could do to make sure they made it home safe tonight. That he could do.

#threads. #vampires suck. #emilio. #i would say thank u bex for writing with me but u stomped on my heart so many times that im not sure if im grateful #<3 jk this was so fun #wickedswriting

[profound-bouquetbird]

RAHHHHHH HIIII

Can I request a Hunter x nonbinary! Reader angst?

A bit of a summary;

The reader usually wears baggy clothes and also has a *ton* of scars and burn marks (mainly from failed magic experiments and phsycal abuse) The reader has one burn mark in particular that's pretty deep, and it's in between their eyes and goes to their nose.

So anyways, the reader's super insecure about all of their scars and burns that they end up isolating themself from everyone.

P.S; I ADORE your writing!

HELLO!! I absolutely love this, sorry if it doesnr have enough angst in it or if it didn't go as you expected :(

But I absolutely adore this request! Since I have school I had to out this request aside until i come back, so I hope you don't mind :)

Btw this oneshot doesn't start off with Hunter emidiatly, since I wanted to put a bit of backstory.. if that makes sense

Key words: Y/n - your name; L/n - last name

Warnings: Luz is refered to it at the start, barely has any angst, probably could say it doesn't have any angst but there's mentions of the reader feeling sad ig

Not proof read

Anyway I sould probably start writing this now 😅

Y/n walked through the hexside halls. Their mask covering half of their face, their hands in their pockets as students looked at them with all kinds of expressions

But Y/n was used to that at this point, having students not wanting to talk to them just because of their looks. But they couldn't blame them, they did look a little intimidating

"Woah!" Some one yelled, Y/n just ignored the voice as they continued to walk down the hall. But they could have sworn that they could hear footsteps running towards them

And so, they turned their head with a confused expression to see a human running towards them. Y/n's eyes widened as they flinched when the human stopped in front of them

"You look so cool!" The human yelled, Y/n looked left and right before looking back at the human

"Me?" They questioned, pointing towards themselves as the human shook it's head vigorously, as it seemed to let out squeels of joy. Y/n felt a warm feeling in their chest as they smiled from underneath their mask

But before the human could say anything it was pulled away by three scared looking witches

"Luz! Don't just run off like that!" One with purple hair whisper yelled as she looked at Y/n with fear in her eyes

"C'mon, let's get going." One with green hair said, seeming not wanting to look at Y/n. Y/n's face dropped, as they felt their heart break slightly

The human seemed to notice the sudden change of behavior, but Luz couldn't do anything. She could only stare at them ad their heartbroken expression, their ears dropping slightly as they walked away

'How could I have been so naive? Of course they would be afraid of me.. why do I even bother getting my hopes up.' they thought to themselves, entering class as they could feel every single students gaze on them

Rolling their eyes they just walked to their seat and took their books out, waiting for the lesson to finally begin

------

Y/n walked through the halls, the witches and demons around them trying to avoid even the slightest contact with them

But as soon as Y/n got out of the hell hole and took a breath of fresh air, they instantly felt better. Smiling underneath their mask they slowly walked towards their house, but from the corner of their eye they could see a rather familiar figure

They turned their head and saw the human, or sould they say Luz since they found out her name during that awkward encounter, talking with whom mingt be Eda the owl lady, and a dog looking creature

Luz quickly noticed Y/n's staring as her smile grew, waving towards them she started to run to their direction. Y/n just stood there, not knowing if Luz was waving to them or to someone behind them

Figuring that someone was behind them they just shrugged and continued their way home

"Wait!" They heard someone yell, turning their head they saw Luz standing next to them, while breathing heavily might I add, making Y/n jump slightly

"Sorry if I scared you." She apologized, straightening up as she gave them a kind smile

"My names Luz, Luz Noceda." Luz said, extending her hand. Y/n looked at her with a weird expression, grabbing her hand as they lightly shook it

"Y/n, Y/n L/n." They said calmly, but on the inside they were freaking out

'Why does the human want to talk to me?! Isn't she scared of me or something?!' But one though came to mind that made their heart drop

They had to get home before 3:00 PM, and it was 2:47 PM. They knew that their parents would kill them if they weren't home in time. Well metaphoracly speaking they would kill them

"Oh- sorry but.. I have to get going." Y/n said, grabbing their palismen as they sat on it nd quickly flew away, not giving Luz enough time to say a proper goodbye. Only hearing a slight 'bye!' in the distance

Rushing towards their home they could feel their heart beat increase more and more as they looked at their watch, only having a minute to spare

As soon as they arrived at their house they burst through the door and ran in the house

Closing the door behind them of course, before running in to the living room

"I'm home!" They yelled, out of breath, but only to be met by an empty living room. They raised their brow at the empty living room, looking around each and every room only to find nothing

"Is anyone home?" They yelled, finally reaching the kitchen, they saw a note on the fridge, quickly walking towards it as they grabbed it, reading it

They groaned in anoyence as they crumbled the paper and threw the paper in to the bin. It was a note from their parents, saying that they had to go on some, quote 'business trip' end quote, and they they'll miss them sooooo much

But Y/n knew they were lying, they knew that they only left those notes to make them worry less as they go to on some vacation to get as far away from their child as possible

And honestly it was anoying having to go home and worry on what their parents might do next, only to find out that they had left them again to go on some made up business trip. But at the same time relieving, knowing that their parents won't be there to do sick and twisted things for every single little mistake they made

Sighing, they only walked up the stairs towards their room, opening their door they threw their book bag next to their desk

Sitting down on their chair they took of their mask and put it on the table before rummaging through their book bag, taking out all of their homework. With a loud sigh they slowly started doing their homework

-----

Closing their book with a loud groan they stood up from their chair and stretched, letting out a groan of pleasure as they felt their back pop

Looking out of their window they smiled lightly as they saw what looks like a red cardinal sitting on to the tree the was conveniently right next to their window, that they used to sneak out, looking straight at them with a tilted head

Y/n sighed and quickly grabbed their mask, putting it on so that it covered the scar on their nose as they walked towards their window

Opening it slightly they leaned against their window and extended their arm towards the bird. The cardinal chirped happily as it hopped onto Y/n's hand

Y/n croigh the cardinal closer towards them as they lightly scratched it's head. Smiling widely Y/n turned around and sat on their windowsill, continuing to pet the cardinal lightly as it chirped in satisfaction

"Flapjack!" Y/n jumped lightly as they turned around, the bird flying to their shoulder as it looked towards the forest with them

"FLAPJACK! WHERE ARE YOU?!" Y/n raised a brow as they looked towards the red bird

"Is that your name?" They asked, the bird chirped as if to agree. Y/n sighed, knowing that they had to go through another awkward encounter

Grabbing onto the tree they slowly started to climb down, Flapjack still on their shoulder as they walked towards the forest as soon as they reached the ground

Y/n saw a boy with his back turned towards them, frantically searching for what Y/n would assume was his missing palismen

"Hey!" They yelled, the boy jumped as he quickly turned towards them, "Is this your palismen?" They asked, pointing towards the bird on their shoulder

They boy seemed relived as soon s he saw the bird on Y/n's shoulder, he started to run towards their direction as the palismen flew towards him

"Flapjack!" They boy yelled happily, the bird flew around his head happily, chirping out of joy

"Thank you so much." The boy thanked, smiling warmly at the witch, "How could I ever repay you?" He asked, walking towards them with a warm smile

"Oh, you don't need to repay me-"

"Please! I insist, you don't know how much this means to me." He breathed out, clasping his hands together. Y/n squinted slightly, finally closing their eyes as they were about to regret the words that were about to leave their mouth

"You could repay me by... Being my friend." They mumbled, fiddling with their hands as they kicked the dirt

The boy seemed stunned as he stared at they with with wide eyes, his ears dropping slightly as he cleared his throat

"O-oh... I though of more like: 'Give me a 100 snails!' or something similar.." His ears turned a light red as he scratched the back of his neck. They fell silent, the only things that could be heard were the rustling of the leaves and the whistling of the wind

"You know what. Just- just forget it." Y/n said, their face turning red from embarrassment as they turned around to leave

"Wait!" The bog grabbed onto their wrist, Y/n turned round with one brow raised, 'Did he actually consider?' they asked themselves as they watched the nervous boy

"Sure, I'll be your friend..." He said, smiling warmly at Y/n while letting go of their wrist. Y/n's eyes widened as they turned their whole body towards him

He extended his hand as he spoke, "The name's Hunter." Y/n grabbed his hand and shook it gently

"Y/n." They replied, closing their eyes as they smiled, even though their smile couldn't be seen Hunter quickly got the message, smiling back at them

-----

Y/n sat on their bed, reading a book they found about wild magic while their parents argued downstairs

Suddenly they heard tapping on their window. Turning their head their eyes widened s they saw Hunter smirking at them whilst sitting on the tree next to their window

Y/n jumped from their bed and ran towards their window, opening it Hunter quickly walked in as he dusted his clothes

"Are you crazy?!" Y/n whisper-yelled, not wanting their parents to hear the commotion

"What? Can't I visit my lovely best friend in the whole wide world." Hunter exaggerated, hugging Y/n tightly. Y/n cold feel the heat rush to their face but they quickly pulled away

"Hunter, you can't be here. My parents are gonna kill me!" They whispered, pinching the bridge of their nose

"Well, I'm not leaving." He smirked, sitting down on their bed as he crossed his arms. Y/n glared at him as they approached him, grabbing one of his arms as they tried to pull him off of their bed

"C'mon! What do I have to do for you to leave?" They asked, already giving up on trying to drag him out

His smirk somehow managed to grow as he stood up, looking towards Y/n

"How about you follow me?" He asked, extending his hand out for them to take. Y/n looked at his hand, then at him, then at his hand and then back at him

"You've got to be kidding me." They sighed, rolling their eyes as they laid their hand on top of his. He was quick to pull them towards the window, picking them up in his arms with no struggle as he climbed onto his palismen, that Y/n had noticed only now

He made sure Y/n held onto him tightly before flying off

"Close your eyes." He said, Y/n listened to his command as they closed their eyes tightly. They just enjoyed the moment for a while, hugging onto Hunter felt like heaven, for them every single contact with Hunter was enjoyable, even if they just brushed hands Y/n enjoyed each and every moment they shared with him

"Keep your eyes closed." He said, Y/n felt that they had suddenly came to a stop, and they quickly felt the ground unterneath them, as well as Hunter's hand holding onto theirs

Heat rushed to their face as they let out a soft sigh

"For how long do I have to keep my eyes closed exactly?" Y/n said, dragging behind Hunter as they tried not to hit anything whilst they walked

"Just for a little while longer, we're almost there." They heard hunter say, they suddenly felt more and more curious, the urge to open their eyes becoming bigger and bigger, but they kept them closed, not wanting to betray Hunter

Y/n suddenly hit hunters back as he chuckled

"You can open your eyes now." He said, Y/n's eyes fluttered open as they watched the beautiful scene in front of them

They stood on a cliff that looked upon the boiling sea, the birds flying as the sun was setting

"Wow." Y/n breathed out, their hand slipping out of Hunter's as they walked closer to the end of the cliff

They suddenly felt the ground underneath them crack, but before they could fall they felt an arm wrap around their waist

They watched as the small amount of ground they were standing on completely collapsed and fell in to the boiling sea

"Careful there." Hunter laughed, letting go of Y/n's waist. Y/n opened their mouth to say something but they were interrupted by a black Raven with buttons on its cheat flying towards them

Their heart dropped as the bird stood on their shoulder and started to speak

"For titans sake Y/n! Where the hell are you!?" They heard their dads voice

"H-hey dad-"

"There's no time to make small talk. Get over here. Now." The bird closed it's mouth and quickly flew away

"I-I'm gonna go." Y/n stuttered as they walked back into the woods

"Wait!" Hunter yelled, Y/n stopped in their tracks and turned around, but before they could muster up a response they felt their mask getting pulled down and a soft pair of lips attaching to theirs

Y/n's eyes widened, but they quickly melted in to the kiss, holding the boys cheek gently as they tilted their head slightly and leaned in to the kiss

Hunter wrapped his hands around Y/n's waist with one hand and gently put his had on the back of their head, deepening the kiss

The two soon parted for air, looking in to each other's eyes with what was presumed to be shock, but they quickly smiled at each other, hugging each other as Y/n closed their eyes, almost forgetting about the awful things their parents are gonna do to them

"Well... You better get going." Hunter said, his smile dropping as he let go of Y/n, already missing their warmth

"Yeah.." Was the only thing Y/n could muster up, before grabbing their palismen and quickly flying off

-----

Months after the kiss Hunter hadn't came to visit Y/n at all. Being to afraid that they were gonna yell at him for kissing them and break off their friendship

But as each day passed Y/n started to get more and more worried, wondering if something bad happened to Hunter

Finally, after months of Hunter not appearing Y/n heard a tap on their window. Their head flew up as they saw Hunter sheepishly looking towards them

They quickly got to their feet as they ran towards their window, not bothered by all of the noise they were making since their parents were, once again, out of town

"Hunter!" They opened the window, "Where have you been?!" They yelled, grabbing Hunter's arm as they dragged him in

"Around." Was the only thing he said

"What do you mean 'Around'?! I haven't seen you in months! I thought something bad happened to you!" Y/n yelled, hugging Hunter tightly as tears threatened to fall from their eyes

"Listen..." Hunter started, taking a deep breath, "I was afraid that.. you wouldn't like me like that." Hunter scratched the back of his neck, avoiding contact

"Are you serious?" Y/n said, Hunter turned his head to see them with a: 'are you fucking stupid?' look

"I literally kissed you back dumbass!" They yelled

"That could just have been your instincts." Hunter said, his ears dropping slightly as he crossed his arms and looked away again

"How can you be so dumb." Y/n mumbled

Hunter felt gentle hands holding his face, turning his head. Before he could say anything he felt his lips connect to Y/n's

He quickly melted in to the kiss, grabbing their waist he quickly pulled them closer towards him

Their lips parted as they stared at each other for a little while. Hunter then smiled as he quickly pecked their lips

"I love you so much, Y/n." Hunter mumbled, putting his forehead against theirs, making Y/n smile lightly

"I love you too dumbass."

Fjaifnxenskandbyidn sorry it took me this long to write your request! Hope you like it :)