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cambion-companion · 8 months

Note

Here’s ya girl who has gone completely feral over astarion. He’s the babiest baby. Okay, here’s the prompt. My characterisation could be a bit (or a lot lol) off bc I haven’t played the game Y E T so feel free to change the things that seem OOC.

Established relationship, but the beginnings of it, on a mission to find a way for astarion to be in the sun again. Reader has given astarion time to work on his sexual trauma so they haven’t been having sex for some time. Reader is 100% ok w that. But they have a big argument over something (not related to sex) and astarion doesn’t know how to resolve the situation other than reverting back to his seductive artifice and using sex as a way to ensure his safety (in this case, emotional safety). Reader figures it out because they (or she) are not dumb. They reassure astarion and he lets himself be vulnerable but also, it turns out that astarion wants that sexual intimacy. But reader decides this will be all about astarion and making him feel good and loved. Body worship, astarion’s praise kink, just everything focused on astarion’s pleasure in a way he has never experienced and that makes him completely unravel once he comes. Not a subby reader, tho. You know me, I don’t do subby.

If this is too long of a prompt, just the sexy part will be ok. Thank you so much, i have such astarion brainrot DDDD:

I Want to Live

word count: 1700

gn!reader x Astarion | Baldur's Gate 3 fanfic | 18+ only

"I don't think we should use the tadpoles for anything, Astarion." You put your hands on your hips, glaring at the sulky Elf in front of you.

This tense conversation between the two of you had gone on far longer than you'd have liked. Astarion seemed insistent on using whatever advantage the Illithids had unintentionally given your party. Despite not yet knowing the implications of doing so.

Astarion's silver hair glinted in the firelight that warmed your back, his eyes shone like droplets of blood. "You might as well leave me alone, spoilsport." He waved an imperious hand in your direction, sneering at you in the way he knew would hurt you most. "Since you insist on being boring and unimaginative."

You ground your teeth. "I'm trying to keep us safe."

"And a fine job you're doing, my sweet." His lilting voice was dripping with sarcasm. "Why don't you ask Arabella how her parents are doing?" He paused, then feigned surprise. "Oh wait..."

Your eyes widened as a jolt of genuine pain lanced through your heart at his callous words. Astarion was aiming to do damage and, like always, he knew how to push your buttons.

Magic sparked at the end of your fingertips as you fought to control your rage. It was the lack of verbal response that alerted Astarion to the fact he might have pushed a little too far with you. His face almost looked regretful for a moment, or perhaps it was a trick of the firelight casting shadows across his features. You didn't gain much insight because of the tears blurring your vision as you quickly turned away and strode as far away from the vampire spawn as you could.

Shadowheart, who always seemed to overhear everything, cast a worried glance your direction before leveling a glare on Astarion who still watched after you with a blank look.

You sat yourself upon your bedroll before the campfire and listened to Volo squeakily tune his lute. Wyll and Gale were over by their tents chatting and Lae'zel sat on a boulder by the river sharpening her sword.

You had thought Astarion would understand and perhaps even agree with you, and the rest of the camp for that matter, that the parasites should not be utilized to gain control of other beings. It was convenient and downright useful, yes...but not worth an unknown cost.

You had thought...since that night when the two of you had become intimate...that he'd maybe come to care for you. But that jab about Arabella's parents, who you'd failed to save, only confirmed that the vampire did not have your best interests at heart.

Sighing, you moved your bedroll away from its usual place beside Astarion's and arranged it next to where Karlach slept. You could feel multiple pairs of eyes watching you move about but you didn't much care at the moment.

Karlach gave you a curious and concerned look as she came over and got comfortable for the night. "Are you alright? I could hear you and Astarion going at it...and not in the fun way."

You grunted and moved your body to the side so you could scrape out a rock that had been digging into your back. "It's fine. He's just an ass." You said these words loud enough for him to hear.

Karlach shrugged and nodded as if this were common knowledge. She gave you a jolting pat on the back before getting comfortable in her own bedroll.

As the breathing patterns of your companions slowly deepened in slumber, you could not find any rest. You tossed and turned as best you could in such primitive sleeping arrangements. You missed your bed back in Baldur's Gate above the taproom of the Shadowcat Claw, the familiar bustle of voices and a mug of ale in your belly lulling you to sleep. Out in this wilderness, with the thought of your argument with Astarion tugging at your thoughts...you had to get up.

As quietly as you could, you slid out of your bedroll and got to your feet. A quick observation of your companions told you they were all in a deep sleep. All except Lae'zel who sat on the boulder still, keeping silent watch. She nodded at you curtly as you passed and didn't ask any questions, for which you were grateful.

You crept through the foliage down to the place in the forest by the river where you and Astarion had had your midnight tryst. You could still feel his moonlight hair running through your fingers, his fangs on your neck as you arched it just for him. The trust...you thought you had at least earned a little bit of his trust.

"I thought I'd find you here." His voice was velvet, it shivered straight through your defenses to your heart.

"I wanted to be alone, Astarion." You tried to keep your own voice cool and collected, but you ached to hold him in your arms again.

Astarion had followed you from the campsite into the woods. He'd been fully aware of your restlessness, of course he had. He entered your line of sight now, looking very much like a cat stalking its prey. His ruby eyes were dark and trained on your face. "Come now, you're far too obvious for all this bluster. Do you not want to feel me again?" He gave you a crooked smile, showing his teeth. "A second taste, perhaps?"

You felt the hollowness of his words and saw the carefully arranged expression he wore like a mask. Beneath the facade you could make out the telltale twitch of a facial muscle, the tenseness of his eyes, indicating anxiety.

You sighed. "I thought we were passed these games."

"Games?" Astarion's tongue flicked out to wet his lips. "Games are all part of the fun, my dear. So good at getting the blood pumping."

You folded your arms. "I want an apology."

This tripped him up. For a moment the facade slipped, and he seemed genuinely taken aback. "Apologize?" Then he was back to his usual bluster. "Me? Apologize for what?"

"For having a go at me today. Bringing up Arabella's parents when you know how upset I am about it." Astarion made a noise as if to speak but you cut across him. "That was cruel, Astarion, and I deserve better from you."

"I didn't..." Astarion sighs heavily, his eyes glancing down to the ground then back at your face. "I apologize." The words seemed to pain him in some way. "I wanted to get a rise out of you, that's all. Now let's forget about that and have some fun."

You raised an unimpressed eyebrow, saying nothing, simply watching his face lit in the silver moonlight. His unconvincing grin slowly slipped off his face, a troubled frown replacing it. The two of you looked at each other for a long moment. Finally, you spoke.

"You're testing how much I care for you, aren't you?" Your voice was soft, almost inaudible over the rippling stream.

Astarion seemed momentarily taken aback, he seemed to consider taking shelter once more behind his mask of pompous indifference. But then his shoulder's slumped slightly, the fists at his sides loosened. That was all the answer you needed.

You stepped forward and placed your hands around his, tugging him closer. He did not resist, his footfalls light as ever as he drew near. Close enough to feel his breath warm your lips.

"I care about you, Astarion." Your voice was still soft amidst the rustling leaves and sparkling water. "I discourage you from using the tadpole's powers because I couldn't bear to see your will overtaken by yet another monster."

Astarion was silent for a long time, his scarlet eyes turned silver as a moonbeam fell across his pallid face. When he spoke, his voice sounded strained. "What if it's too late for me? To be anything other than a monster? My only choice is which one." He laughs forcefully, bitterness twisting his mouth.

"I won't let that happen." You encircled him tenderly in a hug, pulling him to rest flush against your body. "We're in this...together."

"Together." The word was echoed back to you, his voice framing the syllables as if it were a foreign tongue.

You turned your face into him and kissed his neck softly, feeling his body tense in your arms and then slowly relax. You kept your lips against his skin, over where Cazador had sunk his fangs all those centuries ago.

Astarion's hands slowly slid up your hips to rest against your lower back as he held you close. Your lips caressed his neck, throat and trailed up to his jaw until you pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. "I love you." You murmured.

You felt him tense again, not pushing you away, but his hands tightened on your back. "I..." Astarion hesitated. "I'm not quite ready to say those words back to you, my dear."

"I know." You felt no anger, no hurt. You accepted him however he wished to come to you, grateful for this rare moment of vulnerability beneath the stars.

You pushed him back gently until his back made contact with the base of a large sycamore tree. A huff of air left his lungs, quickly claimed by your mouth as you kissed him hungrily this time. Your hands made quick work of his clothing and Astarion became eager to help the process along.

"Vixen." He murmured and you laughed against his lips, your tongues teasing each other.

"You're beautiful, Astarion." You held his face in your hands and kissed his mouth lightly, not allowing him to turn away even as the compliment made his eyes search yours for hints of disingenuity. "I want nothing from you in return." You said firmly, reading his emotional turmoil through your shared Illithid connection. "This is just for you." You kissed his mouth, his cheek, his forehead. "To keep."

Astarion's head fell back to rest against the tree trunk as you continued lavishing affection upon him. He moaned your name softly to the night sky as you slowly sunk to your knees before him, the dirt and rocks digging unheeded against your knees. His fingers twisted in your hair and guided you to where he wanted you most.

"Good, my love." You praised him, your words causing his body to shake with increasing pleasure. "Show me."

The night was long and full of bliss. A genuine exchange of pleasure, without the previous facades and plays at affection. You felt the change as surely as he did, and when the others awoke in the morning it was to find your bedroll pulled back right next to where Astarion lay curled against you.

"You owe me five gold, Shadowheart." Gale mumbled.

#baldurs gate 3 fanfic #astarion x reader #astarion bg3 #gale bg3 #shadowheart #bg3 fic #bg3 astarion x reader #astarion x tav #karlach #astarion romance #baldur's gate 3 fanfiction

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akiranzee · 2 months

Note

idea: a very drunk Hashira! reader trying (and somehow succeeding) to rizz up muzan. They hit it off and later on in the final battle, reader who is very shy when sober, finds them again and both just remember that they hooked up-

🥃 • ° ` — “LIQUOR AND SINS”

-> PAIRINGS: Muzan Kibutsuji x Gn!Drunk!Hashira!Y/n -> SUMMARY: The night when your life changed. -> WORD COUNT: 1.5k+ -> CONTAINS: suggestive content, mentions of violence, swearing, muzan’s demon form, drinking, muzan is 1000 while reader is 27. -> A/N: sry if u wanted this smut, its on my rules that i don’t accept smut reqs from anons. i hope u still like this tho!!

-------------Loading…------------

------------Complete!------------

February 14, was the day you finally managed to defeat an uppermoon. Uppermoon 5, to be exact. Surely you’ll celebrate for this wonderful achievement, right? Of course you will.

You’ve been fighting and training hard for five years, of course you’ll let loose a little, just for today.

The other hashiras, especially Mitsuri really wanted you to come with them since they’re having a celebration of their own too, but you turned down the offer.

A cold, peaceful night such as this is something you’d like to keep yourself to.

The bells jingled as you opened the door of a small bar, and ordered for liquor.

It was safe to say, that you can atleast handle a few booze, but having six is just… a little bit too much.

You were a stumbling mess when you attempted to go to the bathroom, your weapon slipping out of your hand in the process.

And that caught a certain someone’s attention.

As you stepped in the woman’s bathroom, you immediately made your way to the sink, and puked your heart out. You didn’t even hear the door open and close, even when the lock clicked.

You panted, the dizziness was still around, something you probably can’t shake off up until tomorrow. For a demon slayer, you’re a one hell of a light drinker, all right.

But despite that, your sight can never waver, for even if it was all a blur, you were sure someone was behind you. You may not see them clearly, but he was a man, and he looked handsome as fuck.

Even before the man could move, you immediately whipped your head towards him, with visible flushed cheeks, and half-lidded eyes. It wouldn’t take a genius to know just how drunk you are.

The man flinched in unexpectation, but what made him surprised more was the fact that he was a complete stranger; yet you immediately wrapped your arms around his neck.

The man immediately withdrew his claws that were a hundred times sharper than a newly sharpened knife, taken aback by the sudden affection.

It was safe to say that you had saved your own life in the most unexpected way, in the most unthinkable way.

The red wine that you just drank and puked had filled in his nose, the scent so tantalizing, yet, as a demon, more over, the demon king, he must not be lured by such a thing.

And yet, the simple press of your thigh against his ‘thing’ has awakened something within him.

You leaned in and whispered something against his ear, but it was inaudible in his side for he felt hot. Your breath was tickling his ear, your heat radiating off of you from how close you both are, and your thigh still pressed on his junior. God damn, he shouldn’t feel this way. He’s a demon for God’s sake.

And that’s how, the night when your life changed.

~~~~~

“Y/n! Pay attention will you!?” Yelled Sanemi, your training partner for today. “The hell you zoning out about!?”

You flinched in surprise as his loud voice had finally reached your ears.

For the past few days, you’ve been always like this. Even Rengoku got upset when he thought you were ignoring him.

For some reason, thoughts — more like memories, start to appear in your brain. Although, you’ve got no assurance if it really is that.

You doubt, but a memory comes in then. A memory that… consisted of heat, lust, temptation, and desire. But you have no recollection of what had happened in that memory.

Even Mitsuri needed to bonk your head so hard to keep those memories out of your head in the middle of a battle.

It was all so distracting, to say the least. Your missions, turned out to be a fail at the end of the day only because you could not pay attention to the demon.

Safe to say, you are getting demoted. That’s for sure.

“Tsk, there you go again! Zoning out!” Sanemi snapped one last time, before throwing his wooden stick to the ground and walked out.

Then, there goes your training session. A failure.

As you slowly, tiredly, packed your things and walked away from Sanemi’s estate, you can’t help but wonder as always; what really happened that night?

You swore you only had a few shots then… right. Then what? Obviously, you don’t remember any more further.

But you do remember seeing a man. A man who wore a white hat, red eyes, and a formal suit. You can’t remember how he looked like, but you remembered his scent, and his voice. And you too, were sure, that he was muscular enough to carry a thousand pound, or even more.

Sauntering towards your estate, your mind elsewhere, as you couldn’t even hear the ongoing chaos that started just about… now.

You heard screaming and explosions, you saw smoke as you looked back, everything falling down in just a second.

You dropped your bag, and ran toward the chaos’ direction, along with your weapon.

You ran as fast as you can, your mind was no longer filled with those heated memories. All you could ever think of now was, are they okay?

You rushed, and panted. You tried to use your breathing technique to get faster, but it was of no avail. You were too late.

Everything had turned into a disaster the moment you turned around, the moment you blinked your eyes, the moment you stopped thinking.

The next thing you knew, you were already sent into a room. No, wait, not a room. It looked like an… endless void.

You stepped foot on it, and explosions could be heard anywhere. It was terrifying, to say the least. But your legs strengthened and rushed forth towards a direction, in which a voice — a screaming voice of a woman could be heard.

And that woman was no other than… Mitsuri. She, was the very first friend you had ever since your arrival. She was an innocent, kind, and bright woman. She did not deserve to live in a world like this.

Better yet, exist in a situation that has got her hissing in pain, and gasping for breath.

Obanai Iguro was there too, fighting for his dear life and for Mitsuri’s.

You stand by Mitsuri’s aid, trying to help her get up.

“I’m… fine, please, help Iguro-san..” Mitsuri weakly pleaded, as her legs trembled when she tried to get herself up with the help of your arm.

You looked at Iguro from afar, and you could see, just how much he was willing to risk just to kill a demon.

You nodded and raced toward his aid, without knowing that it was no ordinary demon he was fighting. Not one of the twelve moons, but the king of them all.

You shivered and froze in spot, his dominating aura getting through to you as you looked up at the monster in fear, Iguro continuing to fight for his life.

You slowly walked towards the battle, swallowing the lump in your throat.

You charged towards the demon, whose hair was long and white, had a muscular form, and a scent so alluring.

Iguro was thrown back against the wall, leaving you and the demon alone.

Muzan looked at you in confusion, upon seeing a new face, but then, he remembers, that you were the woman he was always looking for ever since that night. God, you looked beautiful even when your hair up, but he obviously preferred the way you looked in bed, your hair down and splayed on the soft mattress.

He smirked upon seeing you, “nice to see you, again.” He said with his deep, tempting voice.

Oh god, fuck, now you remember. Those memories, it all became so clear. He was the fucking man you slept with, the man from that very same night too.

You stood in front of him from quite a distance, but instead of attacking you, he instead went near and wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you in as his lips touched yours.

You finally remembered the heat, the pleasure, and the desire.

Your comrades can only look from afar, can only look at your betrayal.

★ • ° ` — BONUS:

Weeks before, Mitsuri gasped loudly, her gasp literally echoing through the silent forest, as you told her about your current predicament.

“R-Really!? Omg! You slept with someone!!” Mitsuri announced and gasped loudly again, causing you to place both your hands on her mouth.

“S-Shh! Everyone’s gonna hear you!” You whisper-yelled, as Mitsuri nodded apologetically. Her big mouth always getting the best of her, when it comes to something she always calls “love”.

You sigh in defeat, as you already expect that Mitsuri will probably accidentally slip some words out.

“W-Wait! How did he look like!? What was it like!? Did you feel good!?” Mitsuri’s enthusiasm boosted up again, excitedly asking you about your unforgettable experience.

“Well… it definitely felt like something I never felt like before.. he was um.. muscular.. handsome.. and most definitely big down there.” Mitsuri broke into a cackle, as she held her stomach and wiped the tears in her eyes.

“S-Seriously- haha- t-that was what you r-remember? You sure must’ve s-stared at it for a long time! Hahaha!” Mitsuri continued laughing, as embarrassment started to creep up your cheeks, turning your head away from her, “S-Shh!” as you tried to shut her up.

But it was true though, you can’t deny the fact that he was packing down there.

a/n: u guys imagine the rest

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straykids-97 · 6 months

Text

Blurry

Day Five of Spooky Week!

Blur the lines of conformity.

Warnings: Incubus Han/ Felix, witch reader, mxfxm, anal sex, unprotected sex, Switch! Han, Soft Dom Felix, choking, hair pulling, multiple orgasms, dirty talking, hickeys, biting, lmk if I forgot anything

Word Count: 2.1k

You sink back onto your calves, frowning at your spell book. “What the hell?” You grumble as the flames of your candles start to die out. You look between the words on the page and the small sigils on the ground.

It should have worked- the words were right, and your incantations were perfect. Why didn’t anything appear? Huffing out a defeated sigh, thinking that nothing could have heard you, you stand up and clean up the summoning circle.

Your friend put you up to it anyway, trying to summon a sex demon to keep you satisfied since your sex life was… well… lacking. You made sure to tell your friend in the morning that it didn’t work and that she needed to redo her spell. You tuck your candles away in the small box they belong in and place your book back on its holder on your altar.

Puffing air through your cheeks, you leave your sanctum room and head to your bedroom. You decided to take a shower and head off to bed since you were not going to be getting any visitors anyway. You gather a set of pajamas and head to the bathroom, going in and turning the shower on. You place your clothes on the vanity and realize that there are no towels.

Huffing out an annoyed sigh, you leave the bathroom to go to your dryer on the opposite side of your house. You flip on the light in your laundry room and grab two towels from the dryer. Shutting the light off and going back to the bathroom, you pass the door to your sanctum and freeze.

The door was open.

You slowly take a few steps toward it, pushing the door open and finding nothing inside. “Hello?” You whisper, before clearing your throat. You heard something solid hit the floor behind you, causing you to yelp in shock.

Whirling around, you see an apple roll into the hallway, followed by two more, a third stopping in the doorway.

Something was in the kitchen.

You slowly creep down the hallway toward your kitchen, peeking around the corner to find your cabinets open. Just as you flipped the light on, something popped its head over the island counter. You let out a scream, the creature screaming back, dropping the bag of chips in its hand. You both stand there, staring at each other.

The man had a bare chest, an amulet of a moon resting between his collarbones. He had soft dark hair and glowing pale eyes. He giggles sheepishly, “Uh- sorry.” He gathers the chips from the floor and puts them on the counter, “I was hungry.” You stare at him as he comes around the corner, and instantly put your hand up, “Whoa- holy-” you stutter at his nakedness. “I didn’t mean to spook you. But we couldn’t find you when we came through and I was starting to get hungry.”

We? When the creature says that you instantly start looking around for the other creature who could be lurking anywhere. “We- what do you mean we?” The creature grins, revealing small sharpened canines, “We came through at the same time, so we both stayed.” He shrugged, “You’ll like him.” He winks, closing the distance. You back away, “Listen, I don’t know what you are-”

“You know exactly what I am,” he corrects, wagging his finger at you. “You summoned us. And we can’t leave until we fulfill our end of the summoning.” You take a few steps back and now you standing in the doorway of the bathroom to find a second creature.

Calling them a creature was an understatement; they appeared as men, but you knew they weren’t.

The second creature had longer dark hair, and silver earrings decorating all the way up his earlobe. He made you think of a fairy, as he turned to you, his light blue eyes also glowing slightly.

“Ah, there she is. Good job, Han.” The man spoke, his deep voice catching you off guard. The first man appeared at your side, throwing an arm over your shoulder. “Thank you, Felix.”

Han dropped his arm and dragged you into the bathroom, making you stutter, “Whoa- I think we should-”

“Just shut up and fuck?” Han teased, making Felix laugh, “I think that sounds perfect.” Felix purred, coming to stand in front of you. He wrapped his hands around your neck, pulling you in for a kiss. The second his lips hit yours, your mind became mush.

A second set of hands danced up your sides, pulling your shirt over your head. “Oh, nothing underneath?” Han giggled, kissing your back. You hiss, pressing into Felix who groaned, “One less thing to remove.” He held his balled fist out to Han, who bumped it with his. “You two seem to know each other?” You pant as both of them pull your pants down your thighs. “Oh, we do… Very well.” Felix chuckled, making Han join in.

“I call back,” Han says as he palms your ass cheeks. You gasp, holding onto Felix’s shoulders. “Deal.” Felix doesn’t protest as he pulls you into the shower, the warm stream soaking the three of you quickly.

Felix gropes your front while Han gropes the back. “Lift your leg.” Felix demands softly, his hand going to your thigh and holding it as Han holds your ass. Felix rubs against you, his cock running along your folds. A sharp gasp comes out of your mouth and you throw your head back onto Han’s shoulder, who wraps a hand around your throat. “This is my favorite-” Han starts to say as Felix pushes into you, a hot moan escaping both of their lips. “Shit.” Felix curses, nails biting into your skin as he sinks into your warm depths.

You tremble as Han pulls away, his cock pushing at your ass. You clutch Felix’s shoulder who’s pushing in and out of you slowly. Your mind was spinning as Han pushed into you, making you cry out. You hadn’t done this in a while- anal. And Han could tell.

He bites down on your shoulder as he starts to slowly roll his hips, Felix finding a lazy pace in tandem with Han. Your mind was reeling; fuck it felt great.

You lean forward, pushing your ass towards Han as Felix picks up his pace, holding your ass cheek. “Fuck.” You whimper, not sure where to put your hands, on Felix or on Han. Han whimpers, “Shit- Lix.” Felix chuckled huskily at his partner, “What? Can’t handle a tight little hole? You should feel her pussy.” His dirty words make your mouth fall open, earning a chuckle from Felix. Han whimpers behind you, his hips meeting your ass in quick, sharp thrusts. “Fu-fuck. Lix, you have to try this.” He moans, his sharpened nails digging into your hip.

Felix chuckles, rolling his hips into you, causing you to gasp. “Holy shit-” You didn’t realize how close you were to an orgasm until it was right there. You shudder, almost losing your footing but somehow don’t.

“Awe, already going weak in the knees?” Felix purred into your mouth as he wrapped his lips around yours. “Seems she needs an extra hand, Han.” After Han came out of his dazed orgasmic state, he bobbed his head, “Of course.” You felt Han’s hand wrap around your other thigh, lifting you completely off the floor.

Now you were completely depending on them to keep you up, Felix holding on to your front and Han holding onto your midsection and thigh. “Fuck!” You cry out, holding onto Felix but leaning into Han now as Felix chases his own high. Han bit and sucked on your neck, surly leaving lovebites all over your skin. You watch as Felix’s eyes slowly turn black, his mouth hanging open as he pounded into you. “Fuck-” You pant, a second orgasm washing over you as he groans, leaning against the wall for balance.

“Fuck- fuck.” He grunts, spilling into you and slowing to a complete stop. Han still moved behind you, moaning as he built up another orgasm. “Fuck, I’m gonna come again.” Han moaned, groping your body as he sped up. Felix’s eyes returned to normal and a salacious grin appeared on his face as his thumb began to rub circles around your clit. You gasp, jerking at the sensation, mind completely going blank as he began to fuck into you.

“Let’s come together, Han.” Felix pleaded, chuckling at Han’s whine. “Can’t- so close.” Felix growled, “You can and you will.” Han whined, grabbing onto one of your breasts as he slowed, shuddering as Felix pounded into you. You let out a loud moan, an orgasm washing over you. Tightening around Felix only urged him faster, another orgasm threatening to rip through your overspent body. “She’s getting tired, Felix.” Han panted, “We can’t keep going. We’ll hurt her.” Han reminded his partner.

“I know, but she can take one more, don’t you think?” Han chuckled darkly at Felix’s words. “I think so, can’t you baby?” You didn’t know how to respond, but you managed a single nod. “See? I told you.” Felix grinned, kissing you as his hips began to pound into yours. You let out a shrill moan as Han started fucking you harder, matching Felix’s brutal pace.

Your bathroom sounded like the filthiest porn video ever created as you became nothing but a mixture of moans and sobs as you came over and over before finally, Felix and Han came into you one last final time.

They held you as they slid out of you one at a time, helping you stand up on shaky legs. “Awe, poor baby.” Han steals a kiss on the lips, making you mewl. “Fuck,” he groans, pulling your hair. “Keep that up and we won’t leave.” You bite your lip causing Felix to chuckle, “Hole swap?”

This time, Han yanked you out of the shower, “Bedroom.” Felix trailed behind the two of you as Han pulled you into your bedroom, tossing you on the bed. You yelp, feeling Han crawl up your body. He laid on his side, slotting a leg between yours and wrapping a hand around your throat, “Someone has an appetite.” He grinned, before kissing you. Your mind spins as he rubs his cock against your pussy. You whine, holding onto his bicep as you feel Felix slip into the bed behind you.

“Good. Can’t leave her hungry, now can we?” Felix chimes in, pressing the tip of his cock against your ass. They both hold your leg up, Han entering your pussy easily from the mixture of cum that leaked out of you. You moan, Han was girthier than Felix, but Felix had length. You feel Han wrap a hand around your hair, moaning into your neck as he pounded into you.

Felix couldn’t help but chuckle, wrapping a hand around your throat to pull your head back for him to kiss you. “Poor baby, you’re gonna be so sore tomorrow… But part of me thinks you won’t care.” You bite your lip as he pushes into you, his eyes watching your face carefully. He sits still for a few moments before his hand that held up your thigh with Han went to your clit again.

You moan, trapped between the two of them again. Han is lost in the moment, eyes dark as he only cared about chasing his own high. Felix chuckled, “Poor man, he’s all pussy drunk for you.” Felix began to fuck into you, his hips starting to meet the pace that Han had set. “I feel for him.” Felix panted, nibbling your neck.

You woke up to the sound of your alarm blaring. You start to roll toward it, but your body catches, making you yelp in pain. You groan, sliding toward your phone and turning off your alarm. Or so you thought.

It was actually your friend calling, but in your dazed state, you thought it was your alarm. You sit up, stiffly walking over to your mirror as your phone rings again. Your eyes are wide; there are bruises all over your body in the shape of their hands. Your neck was littered with lovebites on both sides, one side from Felix and the other from Han.

You stumble slightly as you go back to your phone, answering. “Hello?”

“Girl, who’d you get? Tell me it worked.”

“What do you mean?”

“The spell I gave you could have summoned any of the big 8. Tell me it worked-”

“I got two.” There was silence. “TWO?” She bellowed. “Who? Please tell me you at least got-”

“I got Felix and Han.” There was a slight beat before she went on. “Holy shit you got Han? They say his stroke game is phenomenal. And I’ve never had Felix either… But, I have heard he does give incredible head.”

“I didn’t get any. They were too occupied doing other things…”

“Fuck. I’m jealous.”

“They marked me up pretty good-” You heard a soft gasp come from your friend. “They MARKED you. Girl, they’re definitely coming back.”

Thank you so much for reading! ©️straykids-97

Tag list: @kaitchan @artisticbirb @queenmea604 @aaasia111 @imastraykidsfan @kpopsstuffs @1dont43 @ener-energy @fawnpeaks @noodlesimp @dwaekkisses-1 @bangchans-angel

#skz drabbles #skz smut #stray kids smut #stray kids hard thoughts #skz hard hours #felix smut #han smut #han jisung hard hours #lee felix smut #lee felix hard hours #han jisung smut

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arcanegifs · 1 year

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tagged by @adawongs thanks for the tag ♡

before/after gif challenge: rules: from your creations, choose as many gifs as you’d like and do a before and after to show off your colouring and sharping skills.

My thoughts with coloring my Arcane Gifs under the cut:

So.... Arcane... soooo painful to make gifs sometimes lmao. Anyways, for around 95% of what I make, I have a base Arcane PSD which you can see in the first 3 gifs of Vi, Jinx, and Cait. Then, I adjust the curves, color tones, and color balance when necessary. Most of the time, it turns out okay, and I really like it for brighter scenes.

But oh god does it STRUGGLE in dark gifs like the one for Cait lmaoooo. A LOT of colors need to be adjusted, and even the Caitlyn one doesnt come out perfect. Since it's super dark, I can almost never use it for large gifs. It's why I just cherry pick which scenes to make into larger 540 x 540 scenes. The darker ones I typically either leave alone or make smaller crops so that you don't get to see much noise. I really need more practice on coloring them.

There are very rare times wherein the base PSD doesn't work, like the last Vi set, which had to be colored entirely different. I just don't like seeing a lot of yellows on my gifs (as a personal preference), so I decided to have a different coloring for it. I might experiment with more coloring next time, since I almost never feel satisfied with my colorings. But I still find my base PSD to be good enough for majority of the scenes. I’m still deciding if I should stick to an even more basic coloring style to preserve the original animation.

My sharpening settings are the same across the board, I don't really do anything else other than my smart sharpen and gaussian blur settings.

Overall, Arcane for me is pretty difficult to color lol, but it's mostly because I always struggle making dark gifs. I love the series, so I still try my best to make as much gifs as I can. I'm not much of a graphic maker though lol, because I'm not that creative. I usually just stick to making basic gifs instead. I’m always so awed at how other editors color and edit their Arcane sets because they’re all so good!

I'm really glad that I finally managed to have a base PSD so that it makes coloring a lot easier! Hopefully, I can continue to make more when S2 comes out.

#personal tag #thanks for the tag! and super late post LOL #adawongs

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writingcold · 6 months

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Why hello there!

I was looking over @hearts-hunger writing prompts for her Halloween Event and I thought to myself that I’ve never, ever tried to write spooky. I doubted that I would ever — wait. What was this? #18 Visiting a Graveyard? Oh really… I started to sketch out this just to play with it and let me tell you - shit happened. My brain would not stop. My hair may have caught fire. Wow.

So, in this process, the story that I thought would be a quick one, has possessed me and has turned into a much longer, multi-chapter fiction. And you know that I’m not a big fan of posting while still in the writing process - but! I really want to share this opening chapter of this very gothic, paranormal romance that somehow went from exploring a graveyard to a cursed love that will span across five lifetimes, and over 300 years. Yeah. You know it, I’ve been at the research again. Lol I say that like it’s an addiction. You might want to check in with @jakekiszkasbuttsweat as I’ve been torturing her with all of this mess and some pretty out there ideas. Thank you, my friend! I so appreciate you. And a big thank you to @allieisacrybaby for putting together the amazing Jake collage together for me! It's so pretty.

I’ll shut up now, but I hope you enjoy this first chapter. I’m hoping to begin posting this as soon as the story is completed. Be sure to check out all the other stories that are attached to this project. They are by some of the best writers and brains. You can find the masterlist here!

Contents Warning: None. Just gothic overtones and a smidge of blood.

Word Count: approx. 3300

The Dead, Part 1: The Entity in the Graveyard

It was a season of newness. Rebirth. He had slumbered for a spell. Of that he was certain. His vision started out blurred, but sharpened as the human days passed, allowing him to grow in form. He sat, perched like a gargoyle on his headstone when the sight of the church across the road came into focus. Ah. The familiar white boards were still full of peeling, toxic paint and were cupping from years of weathering and neglect. The stained glass still caught the morning sun to reflect out onto the unkempt blades of grass and weeds, albeit was not as vibrant as it once had been. The bell still clanged its ghostly chime if the wind screamed from the north or south.

He could feel the air did not welcome his presence. Why had he stirred? He should have slept through the years until the time of the Thinning. He stood straight up on his stone, face trained to the muted colors of the night sky. He watched the music of the cosmos twist and twirl amongst the stars. His senses had finally begun to stretch across the graveyard, assessing his, for lack of a better word, kingdom. He was, after all, the oldest resident of the grounds. There were no new ghosts to speak of but there was a scent upon the air that he could not place. It was close to his stone and carried the heaviness of iron. It carried the rapacity of cells. It carried life. He began to move, seeking out the source of that life. Surely no one of the living had visited the grounds, aside from him - the caretaker. It had been years since anyone new had been planted into their grave, and all of the families of the rotted in the ground were long, long gone. So why would…

He paused when he drew upon the edge of the rock bordered path. Iron. Cells. Life. He moved down against a particularly sharp stone, his spectral fingers drifting across the surface as wonder touched his thoughts. Life. Actual life that had fueled a living human was spilled across the smattering of rocks. He moved his face in close to feel the faint vibration that was still carried in the blood. It is a joy to feel this. A joy to know that a life had passed across the grass and taken in the space of his graveyard. The corners of his mouth curled and stretched as he retreated back to his headstone. There had been life present. Was that why he had been roused? He felt his essence tremble over the possibility. Instead of resuming his slumber, he decided to wait; watch; contemplate the oddity.

His hand pushed through the headstone that had anchored him nearly every day of the human year, save the thin times when the fabric would fail and allow those of the living to confuse those of the dead as one of their own. His index finger traced the deep cut ‘J’ in the polished stormy granite that marked the first letter of his name. The letters no longer truly held meaning. No one was left to mourn him. No one was left for him to remember through faded fondness and cooled over warm memories.

It was an odd feeling whenever it struck. No one was left to remember him. How many ancient cultures believed that if the soul was remember by those of the living, then in fact the one who was dead lived on? And wasn’t it also believed if the one who was dead, and not remembered, the soul would cease to exist? And yet, he was there, chained to the stone his melted corpse resided beneath. Chained to the grounds that only the dead could dare to know on such an intimate level.

He was by no means alone. Although many had disappeared, embracing the light or welcoming the fire when the solitude gripped too tightly for too long, or perhaps when their patch of ground grew too putrid and obnoxious that either joy or damnation would be accepted readily. Not him, though. The radiance was never offered, while the hellfire never beckoned like a lover either. He truly was part of the in-between. Not that it bothered him. The Thinning time was his glory, even though it was rare and erratic.

Each Thinning, she would appear. She was neither of the living nor of the dead. He wondered if she was a goddess - eternal like time, ethereal like nature. Perhaps she was a forgotten entity, purged to make way for man and his foolish and mostly stupid beliefs that he was any better, any smarter, any stronger. If there was one thing he understood from his centuries of life and death was that man was nothing but juvenile. Juvenile in their handling of life. Juvenile in their handling of grief. A woman on her own understood life, understood grief. She could survive alone just fine.

Time flowed beyond his attention. The grass began to push through the patches of stubborn snow that clung to the hope that the cold would remain. There was a brightness that curled and sweetened the sky with a life’s breath that only the dead and those of the in-between could appreciate enough to see. The vibrant peach and lavender of the sun’s trail caught his eyes long enough to push wildflowers from the earth to bring forth the swarming of the crickets and bugs of the early summer.

‘A’. The letter had a chink in the cross where the stone cutter botched it up. He dragged his finger across the flaw for human hours at a time, grimacing over the tortured frame of what it meant to be the letter ‘A’. The fog was growing thicker as the supposed witching hour of the night drew forth. He often wondered over the purpose of such an hour. Time never affected the dead or those of the in-between. The so-called witches that the time was meant for never were concerned to wait for the practice of their sacred rituals. Perhaps it was used for those who were of the veil but not of his own likeness. He smiled as his sight passed over those who were his incognizant companions in the graveyard. They never acknowledged his presence, nor that of each other for that matter. It was a point of contention when he first discovered himself in the cemetery. Why would there be such division beyond the veil of the living? Was it the casting of purgatory to punish those who were arrested in the frozen state of death before the larger powers to claim their own dead beings? Baffling.

He lazed before his stone; his thoughts stretched out beyond the land he was bound to, images of lives he had lived projecting out of him like a film, though he scarcely could remember what he could only identify as vague memories. How could he have sailed the Great Lakes and trod across virgin land, and travel the earth in search of great knowledge and culture, and stain his hands in a vineyard as a farmer and strummed his fingers against the frets of a guitar for the enjoyment of many? Surely not just in one lifetime. There were overwhelming moments of fragility, pain, love and… ugliness.

Frustrated over the toil of his thoughts, he moved across the fractured landscape to the wrought iron gates. The chain of his headstone gave him a gentle tug with each inch that he passed along. He could feel the air of the living billowing on the other side, dancing in the sunlight of the day. Wasn’t it just night? He glanced back to find indeed the sun had risen and passed overhead. A wanton expression passed over his otherwise unmoving lips.

He drifted north, following the chinks and twists and flaws of the neglected fence as if he could ever leave the boundary of his world. He paused at the edge and forced his vision to dim to nothing so that he might feel nothing. It would be easy enough as only fields of early crops and a singular road stretched out before him in an endless roll of land. But…

A light beckoned. It sparkled on the very horizon like a star, but cooled as it drew closer until it faded into a human form. A human-shaped woman in all her fragility and vigor was walking along the broken asphalt of the road. Dressed in a flowing fabric drenched in light, she demanded his attention through her silence. He trailed behind her until finally, he stopped, face to face with her, discovering her reaching for the cemetery gate as if reaching out for him. Her skin, smooth and without the tarnish of age, shimmered with a perfume that he is sure is beautiful like apple blossoms, or perhaps delicate lilacs. Her graceful gait makes her appear to be floating over the hidden rock and fissures of the ground. He was compelled in his interest by the creature as the corners of her eyes began to fade and signs of aging began to whisper across the skin of her hands and throat. Her hair began to thin and lose its luster. He had never come across such a human as to grow old before him. Perhaps she was wraith, untethered and unseeing of his being.

He followed her step for step through the graveyard. Her body grew small and bent by gravity. Her face becomes ancient and heavily marred by time. Her eyes cloud over as is always the case of the elderly, as if they can take in more of the world around them. And yet - she is beautiful. Delicate. Alluring. He was drawn to her like a lighthouse calling him to shore.

“What are you?” he whispered into her scraggle of hair that had loosened from its tether.

She appears to nearly tumble across the stone path and he is in awe that she comes to a stop before his headstone. Her body is ancient. Her clouded eyes blur and close as her breath labors to enter and leave her body. A badly twisted hand snaked out from the woman’s shroud and landed against his name. He watched silently as she lowered herself to her knees, resting her forehead to the granite before her. Her breath became shallow… unmeasured.

“Are you dying?” he asked, his eyes wide as he came to rest beside her.

She stretched out onto the hardness of the ground, cheek resting upon her arm. He lays beside her like a forgotten lover. He longs to touch her. To ease her pain as a mumbled sting of ache bubbles from her mouth. For a span of minutes, there is nothing. No breath. No sound. No… life. He watches her in utter fascination, finding himself unable to do anything other than lay beside her.

“Are you…”

His words fail in a crackled mess as a note stirred within him. A note of bitter familiarity that clawed and scratched at his mind like it was trying to force him to remember something that refused to be revealed. The creature gasped and sputtered and choked, startling him. One gnarled hand, followed by the other, began to push against the earth. He rose up over her, stunned as in painfully slow fashion, she gathered her knees beneath her once more. Her noises are guttural and deep as she uses his headstone to make her way back to standing. He moved around to the back of the stone as she paused to capture her breath once more. He looked into her face and a pang of awareness crashed upon him like a wave. The knowledge of this person was a blackened spot to him, but there was a sense of familiarity that he could not place. She began to turn away, the brittleness of her bones crinkled and popped against his ears.

Achingly slow, she began her journey back towards the gate. He drifted around her, looping his mist through her fingers and against the exposed skin of her cheek. The breeze tickled shades of blush and orange against her hair and he noticed the age that had tugged and blurred and swirled against her to bend her was reversing. Her back became straighter with each of her steps. The deep lines of wisdom and life were fading. The full curve of her lip and striking beauty of her skin bloomed before him and fully returned by the time her hand pushed open the heavy gate.

For the briefest of moments, he stood before her. Her eyes appeared to be locked upon only him. Had she known of his presence all along? He wondered if she could see him as he had been - wisps of chestnut strands that floated across his shoulders and the hair that curled around its tie that fell between his shoulder blades. The coy ghost of a smile that always seemed to be present upon his mouth. Did she see the dark swirl of earth tones in his eyes and the caramel tint of his skin?

Her eyes shimmered as he dared to reach his spectral hand out to brush against the heated flesh of her cheek. He pretended to press the palm against the plump flesh and smooth the pad of his thumb across the ridge of her cheekbone. For a fraction of a second, she even seemed to lean into his hand like a welcomed lover. And then…

She walked away from him, dragging a light that grew brighter the further away she moved. He watched the light, beaming like a star until it disappeared beyond the horizon.

The ‘C’ of his name was the most elaborate, but most shallow of the cuts into the stone. It scrolled with a flourish that left him to wonder if it was created to remind him of a flamboyant moment that he had once lived. Or perhaps the stone cutter thought he was being funny, perhaps cryptic with such a deliberate act. Regardless, it could keep him enthralled for days, tracing the intricate loops and noticing how quickly the craftsmanship faded over the years.

There was not much of his human self he remembered. Perhaps he was rather insignificant and there was nothing of notoriety to remember. He could not recount the number of spirits who cried over their being, only to wail as their loved ones drifted through the tall grass and treacherously uneven grounds to mourn their passing. He wondered if time had given him so much distance from his human self to no longer realize that simple magic of the world and thus, released his mortal memory to allow the wonderment of the dead in.

The days were stretched to the limit, gobbling up each extra second like a greedy tick. He felt the air shimmering fat around him with a heat and kiss of life that he seldom took the chance to relish. His fingers pressed into the center swirl of the ‘C’ as his thoughts bent to the creature. She was not present on the mortal daily, but her appearance had become fixture - stretching from the horizon, her light bellowed in like a tidal wave. He could not help but to follow as she tread through her aging process to stoop and drop a lily. He tried to grab her attention. He tried to test to see if she could see him. Each time, he would be left to wonder. Her reaction was always the same, one that could be construed as the human tilt of her head, a longing look to join him, maybe. There was no definitive proof that she offered in her visits.

‘O’. Never ending. No beginning. No ending. Maybe the ‘O’ was like himself in that manner. How a blink of his eye could find him removed and forwarded by whole earthly seasons. The air had turned. It no longer held the breath of warmth and sunshine of summer. Instead, it held the darkening, faded breath of life. The line between those of the living and those of the dead was thinning. He could feel it against where his skin once resided. If he were amongst the living, he would inhale this air until his lungs could hold no more. To the point of it burning and almost painful but the perfume too beautiful to not relish in such a manner. Alas, his body required no lungs, no skin.

The creature’s visits were growing more sporadic. He watched from up close and from afar. He tried to touch and tried to ignore. It did not matter. Her tread was always the same. Her return to the horizon was unfettered by whatever antics he would attempt. To say that it was maddening would admit to feeling something of his residual humanness. Was it impatience? Curiosity, perhaps. Whatever it was, he did not like being centered around this being that could come and go, taking his attention and thoughts with it.

‘B’. His final letter allowed him to return and finish his own name. The letter resides just as deep as the ‘J’, but the flag at the top bends backwards in a trail that weaves through the loop of the ‘O’ and tangles with the flair of the ‘C’, like a tree branch. It skews the ‘A’ and hovers over the ‘J’, providing a fancy little cap to the name he had known as his own for all his time. Jacob.

It was not the first incarnation of his name. There were older forms of the name that he had known. All meaning the same thing - the surplanter. He wondered if he had been a good man. Had he been evil in a good world? The fuzziness of his memories were mere echoes of what could have been but never concrete. Never accurate.

The brittle leaves of the poplars and birch rattled like an old, sick man’s breath and were yellowed like his teeth. He tilted his chin upwards, looking into the gray sky beyond the dense canopy above and caught sight of the swirl of the cosmos that only those beyond the veil were privy to. The stars were dancing and singing, though no human could ever hear the beauty that was always wrapped around them in their ignorance. And yet, he tapped his toe and hummed along like a human would to their most favorite tune. The crinkles at the corners of his eyes deepened over the idiocy of the moment, but then, who was he not to enjoy a little morsel of what it was like to be the human he once was? Music stirred deep within him like nothing else. It saddened him, maddened him, and filled him with the feeling that he once had been real, although he was unsure of how long he had indeed been dead.

Days were shortening. They were becoming like a careworn silk belt on a robe. He enjoyed sitting on his headstone, watching the wind play against the grass. Humans couldn’t see the colors that are pushed around flying like dandelion fluff, carrying the fallen leaves and bits of life too dry to survive upon its host. Perhaps it was one of those things that were put forth to mesmerize the eye of the dead to distract from the living. He didn’t care. If the colors of the world and the cosmos of the sky were placed there to keep him from terrorizing the grander scale of the world, so be it.

Divider by @cafekitsune

I hope you liked this intro chapter. If you would like to be added to my taglist, let me know - reply or send an ask. The Dead will probably not be ready fully for posting until after the first of the new year. I really have a lot of work to do on it. In the meantime, I do have a new fiction starting soon that is rather angsty. See you again soon!

@lvnterninthenight @doodle417 @luverleaver @jakesgrapejuice @fictional-duchess @milkgemini @positivegvfthings @songbirds-sweet @streamingcolors-gvf @gretavanbitches @samsurfgreenbass @gardensgatedaisy @babyhoneygvfarchive @myownparadise96 @josh-iamyour-mama @starcatchercarol @loveisonaroll @jakesstarlight @reesetrippingthelight @builtby-gvf @ignite-my-fire @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @wetkleenex-gvf @gold-mines-melting @starsasone @mysticalstarcatcher @montenegroisr @takenbythemadness @way-to-go-lad @cal-a-bungaa @lightmylove-gvf @thewritingbeforesunrise @leftjudgeempathsuitcase @brokenbells11 @imborrowedshesblue @vanfleeter @sammysvanfeet @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @jaketlove @redsierra1960 @gvfmarge @becinabubblegvf @wildbluesorbit @sinarainbows

#jake gvf #jake kiszka #greta van fleet #gvf #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka fan fiction #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet au #the dead: gvf fan fic #gvf fan fic #gvf fan fic au #gvfhalloweenfics

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sourwolf-sterek32 · 1 year

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The Chief’s Daughter

Summary: It had been six years since your father left you behind in New York. However, now that your mother was gone, you had no choice but to drive to Hawkins to find him. That's where you meet Billy Hargrove, who turns your life upside down... literally.

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: language,

Chapter 28- Final Chapter

You awoke to the pungent smell of hospital disinfectant. Slowly you opened your eyes, squinting in attempt to sharpen the blurred images before you.

Yep, you were definitely in a hospital. How long had you been here?

You closed your eyes, trying to remember what happened before it suddenly hit you.

Vecna. Billy getting arrested. Shit.

You opened your eyes again, looking down to find your left arm in a thick white cast all the way to your elbow and secured in a sling. Right, broken arm. How could you forget about that?

The ceiling above you was illuminated with a white fluorescent light that had no right to be as bright as it was. The rest of the room was empty. You were literally in your own hospital room and there was no way you could afford this.

Suddenly, the door across the room opened and you had to do a double take when Billy Hargrove stepped inside. Didn’t he get arrested?

Billy closed the door quietly behind himself, not wanting to wake you. He took a sip of the shitty hospital coffee cup in his hand before he turned and then quite literally dropped the coffee when he saw you staring right back at him.

The brown takeaway cup fell to the ground. The plastic lid popping off on impact, spilling the dark liquid over the floor.

The bruise over his eye had gotten worse since you last saw him. The red and light bruising from earlier now an angry dark purple while his split lip still looked just as painful.

"Are you okay?" He asked, rushing to your bedside, the coffee long forgotten. "Are you in pain? I can get a nurse or-"

"I'm okay." You answered, your voice coming out rough as you cleared your throat before continuing. "How... how are you here? You were arrested and... how are you here?"

"Max's plan worked like a charm. Carver is being blamed for the deaths, so I walked free."

You dropped your head back down on the pillow with a sigh of relief.

"I can't believe it worked. All of it. It's over... wait, it is all over, right?" You asked, sudden fear rising.

"It's over, baby." Billy reassured as he gently sat down on the edge of your bed, his hand hovering over your broken arm. "Nurse said they had to do two surgeries to fix it."

"Could've been worse, at least it's just one arm."

"You also have a fractured patella."

"A fractured what now?" You asked in confusion.

"Knee cap. You fractured your knee cap." Billy explained, looking down at the black brace around your knee which you hadn't even noticed.

Oh, well that kind of sucked. But a broken arm and fractured knee was better than the alternative... that alternative being dead like Chrissy and Fred.

"I'm sorry."

Billy's voice was barely above a whisper and if it was any softer, you would have missed it.

"I'm so sorry. This is all my fault." He added, his voice breaking causing your head to snap back up to him in alarm.

He chewed his lower lip, eyes welling up with tears as he stared at the wall, refusing to look at you.

"This wasn't your fault." You insisted.

"It was. It was." His voice was heavy with shame, the same way his guilt weighed down upon his shoulders.

"This is on Vecna. None of this is your fault."

"It is. I should've stopped Jason sooner... If I did then maybe I could've pulled you out of the trance sooner and-"

"Don't." You quickly said, shaking your head. "Don't do that to yourself, Billy. You did everything you could."

"It wasn't good enough though. You nearly... you nearly fucking died, Y/N. You just started floating and there was nothing I could do to stop it!"

Billy abruptly stood up, his back facing you as he ran his fingers through his blond curls and shook his head.

"It was like the cemetery again and-and then your arm broke and... shit. I thought you were going to die like Chrissy. I thought- I thought..." He trailed off and turned to face you, his blue eyes now swimming with unshed tears. "I nearly lost you."

"I'm still here."

Billy shook his head and looked away from you, but not before you saw the tears escape his eyes. You shifted yourself up into a sitting position, biting back a wince when you jostled your knee before you held your hand out to Billy.

"Come here." You said gently as Billy glanced back at you, his cheeks wet, and your heart broke seeing him like this. "Come here, please. Billy."

He swiped at his eyes, but fresh tears continued to fall anyway as he walked back over and grabbed your hand before sitting down on the edge of your hospital bed with a shaky sigh.

"I'm still here. Not even Vecna would make me miss our date."

Billy frowned a little through the tears, "what date?"

"Top Gun, remember? You promised me a movie night and I'm holding you to it." You answered causing Billy to chuckle wetly and smile.

Suddenly, door opened and Billy hastily wiped the tears from his eyes just as Steve Harrington walked inside, side stepping the spilt coffee before making his way towards the two of you.

"Hey, you're awake. How are you feeling?"

"I'm good now." You answered, squeezing Billy's hand to calm him as he leant down and kissed the back of your hand before he glanced over at Steve who was watching the two of you with a fond smile.

"Thought you were with Munson?"

Billy's voice was a little hoarse from the crying, but Steve didn't point it out and simply answered.

"I was. Doctors cleared him. He's signing the papers now and will be here in a minute."

Wait, the doctors cleared Eddie for what? What happened? Wait, did he get hurt?

A flash of memory washed over you. Dustin, Lucas and Erica shouting at Eddie to stop, but Eddie ignored them, leading the bats away from the trailer.... Vecna had showed you that vision. Did that really happen?

"Is he okay? What happened?" You asked, looking between Billy and Steve worriedly.

"He got attacked by the demo-bats. Has a few deep cuts in his sides and matching bruise to mine." Steve explained, motioning towards the dark bruise around his neck. "He's okay though, got a lot of stitches and won't stop talking about the cool scars he's going to have."

Billy snorted softly, "of course he's saying that."

"Was anyone else hurt?" You asked, fearing the answer.

"Everyone's fine. Well, Dustin sprained his ankle. But he's fine." Steve answered, shrugging it off.

You were curious to know how Dustin managed that, but didn't get a chance to answer before the door to your room opened once again.

"Jesus Christ. That's a tripping hazard." Eddie's voice suddenly said as you looked past Billy and Steve to find Eddie tiptoeing around the coffee on the floor like it was a biohazard. "What happened, California? Did you spill- Oh my God, you're awake!"

Eddie's face lit up when he realised your eyes were open and he jogged the remaining distance until he was standing beside Steve. He had a deep red and purple bruise around his neck that matched Steve's identically.

"You look like shit." You greeted causing him to smile.

"Like you can talk."

"You okay? Steve said those bats did a number on you." You said seriously, not liking the angry bruise on his neck.

"Got a dozen or so stitches." He answered, lifting up his Hellfire shirt and exposing the thick white bandage wrapped around his midsection. "But, I'm not the one who went up against Vecna. Are you okay?"

You nodded, glancing back at Billy who was still holding your hand, his thumb rubbing soothing circles over the back of your palm.

"We should get going and give you guys some time alone." Steve said, looking between the two of you before he patted Eddie's shoulder. "The others are all back at Hopper's old cabin. Once you're allowed to leave, meet us there. The Byers are in town too."

Whoa, wait, the Byers were back? Weren't they still in California?

"El?" You asked.

Steve smiled, "yeah, she's with them. She wanted to visit, they all did, but I figured you didn't want the whole Party shoved in this room, so I told them to wait for you to get discharged."

"Speaking of this room..." You began to say, glancing over at Billy. "There is no way we can afford this."

"Me either. But, Harrington here was kind enough to pay." Eddie responded, smiling brightly at Steve.

Wait, Steve paid all the medical bills? Why would he do that?

"Technically, I used my parents credit card. And I kinda owed you both. If it wasn't for Eddie distracting the bats or you distracting Vecna, we wouldn't have been able to kill Vecna. It was the least I could do."

"Paying hundreds of dollars worth of medical bills was the least you could do?" Billy asked in shock and Steve just shrugged his shoulders. "Jesus, I forgot how rich you were."

Steve rolled his eyes, "c'mon, Munson."

"See you guys later." Eddie waved goodbye and you waved back as the two of them walked out the room, leaving you and Billy alone once again.

"I should probably get a nurse, let them know that you're awake." Billy said, going to stand up, but your grip tightened around his hand, stopping him.

"Not yet. I just want to lay here with you for a little bit."

Billy's expression softened, "okay."

He shifted, laying down along the side of your bed carefully, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you gently against him.

"This alright?"

"Perfect." You replied, resting your head against his chest as he kissed the top of your head.

Later that afternoon, you found yourself sitting in the passenger seat of the Camaro. The hospital gown now long gone, you were back to wearing your usual ripped jeans and leather jacket. Your left arm was out the sleeve and hanging in the sling against your chest while your good arm hung out the window, letting your hand dance in the wind as you tilted your head towards Billy.

He met your gaze briefly with a smile before he reached over and rested his hand gently over your thigh, being mindful not to touch the brace on your knee.

Scorpions was blasting through the stereo, Billy tapping his other hand to the beat against the steering wheel. He focused back on the road and slowed the Camaro down, turning down the long dirt driveway in the middle of the woods.

The cabin slowly came into view, the police tape now gone and Argyles pizza van in the driveway. Steve had said that the Byers were here, but you didn't expect Argyle to be here too, nor did you expect that van to last the cross-country trip.

Billy parked the Camaro between Steve's Beamer and the van and before he could pull the key out the ignition, the front door of the cabin opened and a herd of kids ran out.

"Jesus." Billy muttered under his breath, watching them take the porch steps two at a time.

You smiled softly and opened the car door, barely stepping out before El suddenly wrapped her arms around your stomach and hugged you.

You stumbled back a step, hissing as you put your body weight on your bad leg, but you hugged her back anyway and closed your eyes, holding her tightly.

"Easy. Easy. I don't want to drive her back to the hospital." Billy called out from over the roof of the Camaro.

El instantly let go, her brown eyes looking you up and down with a guilty expression, but you just smiled at her.

"I'm fine, kid."

"That cast and knee brace might say otherwise." Jonathan's voice suddenly said, and you looked over at where the other kids were to find him standing there with Nancy in his arms. "I'm glad you're okay."

"Thanks. What are you guys doing here? And wait, how did you get your powers back?" You asked, glancing back at El beside you.

"It's a long story." She answered.

You wanted to ask more. Hell, you had a lot of questions, ranging from why El's hair was shaved to why Joyce Byers was standing on the porch too and not back in California, but you figured those questions could wait.

Billy walked around the Camaro over to you before he stuck his arm out and pulled El into his side. Your sister smiled, wrapping her little arms around his stomach, hugging him. Billy held her for a few seconds before letting go and Max walked over, kicking his shoe.

"Glad my plan worked and you're not rotting in jail. That would have totally sucked." Max mumbled, staring at the ground as she spoke.

"Totally." Billy grunted, holding his arm out before Max hugged him too.

Billy and Max had come a long way from the angry yelling relationship they used to have back when you first moved to town. You found yourself smiling at the strong bond the siblings had now.

"Who would've thought, Billy Hargrove is a hugger." Steve commented with a smirk.

"Tell anyone and I'll knock your ass out, Harrington." Billy warned, glaring at the other guy, but there was no real heat behind it and Steve just rolled his eyes.

"Who does he have to tell? All his friends are here." Robin pointed out, motioning towards the group.

Yeah, okay that was a fair point.

"Hey, Y/N! Good to see you alive and breathing, man." Argyle called out, emerging from the woods.

Eddie appeared beside him with a questionable looking joint between his fingers and you rolled your eyes. Of course, those two just met and are already smoking in the woods together. You should have seen that one coming.

"He just called you a man, Y/N. You gonna take that?" Eddie questioned with a grin.

"So long as he doesn't call you a man." You shot back causing the group to burst out laughing.

Eddie snorted in amusement before the cabin door opened again and Eddie swore under his breath, dropping the joint and stepping on it, getting rid of the evidence.

You frowned at his reaction, wondering why he did that before following his line of sight and your heart stopped when your eyes locked with a man you thought you'd never see again.

Jim Hopper.

"Hey, kiddo." He smiled, slowly walking down the porch steps.

His hair was buzzed short, and he had lost a significant amount of weight, but all of that was the furthest things from your mind as you stared at your father in utter shock.

It was him. It was really him. Hopper was alive and he was here... how the hell was he alive?

You wanted to run to him. You wanted to call out to him. To say something, but you couldn't get your body to move. Tears blurred your vision, and you couldn't stop the small, strangled sob that escaped your lips as you covered your mouth with a trembling hand.

"Dad?" Your chin trembled, trying not to cry, but it was a losing battle because silent tears were already spilling down your face. Hopper shortened the distance between the two of you in an instant and pulled you into his chest.

"You're r-real?" You whispered, voice trembling as you clutched the back of your father's flannel for dear life.

"Yeah, sweetheart. I'm real."

That was all it took before you broke down in his arms, wracked sobs ripping out of you. Hopper held you tightly, resting his chin on top of your head as he rubbed soothing circles over your back.

Neither of you moved or said anything for the next few minutes. You didn't want to loosen your hold on him, scared that if he let go then you might disappear again. But, eventually, Hopper pulled away, his hands resting over your shoulders as he held you in front of him, not ready to let go just yet.

His own eyes were glossy with unshed tears, matching your own as you shook your head, unable to process this.

"I-I need to tell you something." You said, trying to make your voice strong, but failing miserably as tears continued to fall.

"Y/N, it's okay-"

"No. No. It's not okay." You whispered, shaking your head again. "I thought you died. You died thinking that I hated you. But, I don't. I don't hate you. I forgive you. I forgive you, dad. For all of it."

Hopper's expression broke, the tears welling in his eyes finally spilling.

"Y/N..." He trailed off, not knowing how to respond before he pulled you back into a hug. "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry for everything."

His words just made you cry harder before El stepped forward and he immediately pulled her into the hug too, his arms wrapping around you both tightly.

"My girls." He whispered. "I love you both so much."

The three of you pulled apart and you rubbed your face with your good hand, trying to get rid of the tears as your father took a step back before pausing, his eyes landing on Billy.

"Sir." Billy nodded, his shoulders turning stiff as he stared at Hopper.

"Hargrove." He nodded back.

The two of them fell into tense silence before your father took a step forward causing Billy to flinch back on instinct, but Hopper just put his hand on his shoulder and pulled him into a hug too.

"Thank you for saving my daughter."

They pulled apart and Billy smiled shyly, glancing over at you. "She saved me first, sir."

"Hopper. Call me Hopper, son. Sir makes me feel old."

"You are old." El commented causing everyone to laugh.

You looked away from Hopper to find the whole group watching the reunion. Happy smiles were spreading across their faces, and you felt tears burning in your eyes again as you looked at them all.

Billy noticed and took a step forward, draping his arm over your shoulders, pulling you into his side gently.

"You okay?" He whispered softly, kissing your forehead.

"Yeah. Yeah, I am." You nodded and for the first time in a long time, you meant it.

THE END

MASTERLIST pinned to profile

Commissions open! Link in bio or DM for enquiries

A/N: Thank you for reading and coming along on this journey with Billy. This story was so fun to write and I'm glad there are people out there that like Billy as much as I do ❤️

I am currently working on a Hopper x Reader story, so if that's something you'd be interested in then stay tuned!

Anyway, thanks again for reading and I would love to hear your thoughts in the comments. Until next time, stay safe guys and have a great day xx

#Billy Hargrove #billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove x you #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #dacre montgomery #jim hopper #david harbour #steve harrington #eddie munson

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lu-twilights-pup · 10 months

Note

Okay hear me out real fast, maybe like four, legend, and twilight with a s/o who gets injured protecting them BUT doesn’t understand why they are upset cause they are a important heroes and their s/o is just here

Its been a minute lol it i chose to do this with Legend!

D I S C L A I M E R S

fluff, mentions of injury, fluffy fluff.

——

Its had been about 5 hours since you had taken a hit for Legend. A stray bobolink managing to climb a horse and swing about its weapon came hurdling towards the veteran. He had been to focused on covering Wild, unable to hear the clopping hooves over the sounds of battle. But you did.

It was about 4 and a half hours ago that they had finally cleared out the monsters in the area. Miscellaneous bands of Moblins and Bobolinks of varying eras lay strewn about, piled on top of one another.

Now he sat in their makeshift camp, refusing to move from your side as you rested; providing a sharpened glare to those who pressed harder for him to rest on his own. A potion was all you really needed thankfully, and you were ordered to bed rest for the rest of the day and the day following. The gash along your head cleared rather quickly with the magical substance and left nothing short or a few bruises here and there.

A few to many if you asked the vet. But he had learned early on in his travels to settle for ‘not dead’ when he could.

You promptly passed out after being healed and settled into a spare bed roll. Legend offered to take first shift once you did, leaving absolutely no room for protest from the others.

He spent his watch starring into the fire, poking it to pass the time. He had hoped that if he didn’t stare you down out right, may haps you would wake up faster. Something about “a watched pot never boils” from Warriors rang in his head. Though he’ll give credit were its due, while time didn’t pass any faster—nor any easier—but it did feel like you had only been out forever, not quite an eternity.

By time he had convinced Four that he would take over the second shift as well, showing no signs of sleeping any time soon, you had begun to stir lightly. The world too bright and too dark all around you at the same time. Slowly the effects of fatigue swirling around your head, blurring together into a nausea, as you came too. The taste of potion still sat on you tongue, sticky and bitter. Your face scrunched as you sat up.

Waking up after a nasty blow always sucked. It was always a different time; a different place than where you were originally hit. You had no idea who else was injured, if you were safe, if you were alone. Your head throbbed with such questions.

“Are you alright? Anything sore?” Legend was quick to come closer to you. You barely made out what he had said, still trying to get the world to stop tilting.

Your voice was hoarse and crackly. “Potion tastes like ass.” Legend searched your face for pain before narrowing his stare.

“Good. Maybe that will get you to be more careful!” He prompted with an eye roll. He plopped down next to you and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Right back at you.” You grumbled lightly, attempting to sit up more, only for him to push you back down gently.

“I’m not the one who ran head first into a Bokoblin swing!” A quiet groan sounded across camp, stilling both of you for a moment. Waiting on baited breath until the sailor turned back over and began snoring once more.

“No but you’re the one who didn't see it and didn't move, so you almost were!” you huffed. “I don’t see what the big deal is, your safe and uninjured aren’t you?” You asked, looking him over, at least as much as you could from your spot on the ground.

“Yes but-“

“Then everything is fine! There shouldn’t be such a big issue.” You said turning away from him a bit, attempting to get up again, only to wince and fall back. Legend barely managed to cushion your fall.

"Such- there- ugh!" Legend let out an ugly laugh, but reeled in his voice before anyone stirred further. He gave you and incredulous look as he scanned your face. "Not such a big issue my ass! You got hit!"

"So did you!" You whispered, pulling the blanket around you tighter as you glared at him. Truly annoyed at his tone. "And so did Wild, and Sky, AND Time!!" gruffly you shifted in you spot. "But you aren't hovering over them when you ought to be making sure they're okay-"

"We already did! And non of them got hit as badly as you did! They got hit and got up, you were knocked out!" Legend hissed at you.

"But I'm fine, they might not have been! You might not have been!!''

“(Name) what are you talking about?!” Legend whispered, actually assisting you in getting up this time around. “You’re borderline concussed, this is not fine!”

“Yes it is!” You stared him down. “If something happened to you then it would be a problem. You’re more important.”

You’re more important.

Dozens of thoughts fly by his eyes. Countless scenarios and questions. Dozens and dozens of reasons why that simply wasn't true. A twinge of guilt that you didn’t think you were that important.

“(Name), what makes you think I’m more- That’s not- (Name), no.” His words bumped into each other and tumbles their way out of their mouth.

“Link, come one. Look at you. You’re a hero. You’re basically the hero. You’re on this quest thing, with all these other big heroes, doing all these amazing things. Saving people, towns, worlds for fucks sake. And I’m…well I’m me." Your shoulders tightened up before you slumped forward in a sulk.

"And I’m kinda just—well I’m kinda just here to tag along. If something happened to me then that’s that; but if something happens to you a whole world loses a hero, people will be in danger, th-“

You made a small 'hmpf' as a hand met your mouth. The faint smell of copper, salt and charcoal filled your nose.

“Breathe.” His voice was small and uneven, like he was holding his breath in hope you would do the same. His brows were drawn together tightly, a deep frown twitched below them.

You took a deep breath from your nose, once then twice before he let go of you.

"(Name). You're a hero, too."

"No, I'm just-"

"You are though. You help us in more way than you even know. You fight with us in battle, and you've seen just as much of this fucked up adventure thing that we have. Maybe this is your first time around—goddess i hope its your only time around—but that's still a time." Legend hand found it's way to your cheek.

"You don't need all the fancy weapons and magic shit we have or then divine intervention or the wagons full of trauma that we carry to be a hero." You smiled pitifully at his last remark. Stinging a bit when you remind yourself of the things he's had to do to get where he is.

You heart squeezed at the thought of being seen as part of the group. You feared going on this adventure with them; that you would forever be placed in the way of civilian, or worse civilian casualty, but you had made peace with it at some point. The chance to see when they see, to travel with such a group, and after becoming closer with them, the bonds you made made that morbid thought worth it.

The relationship you had developed with the prickly veteran drowned out any other fears you and about the whole thing.

"You are a hero in your own right, and you are just as important as the rest of those idiots, I'd say damn near more important. Goddess knows what I would do if we lost you out here. If I last you out here." You didn't notice when the first tears roll down your cheek till he swept them away. "There is no ignoring or refilling your space if you are gone, love" He squeezed your face a bit before allowing you to fall into him in an awkwardly sitting hug.

Just behind you he watched Twilight sit up in the night, alert to your weak sniffles. Though once his eyes met Legend's he nodded and laid back down, turned away in his bed roll.

Legend continued to hold you and rub your back as you clung to him.

"You're important to us, love. We love you, hell I know I do." He mumbled into your hair. Little by little, your sounds faded into the dawn. Your fears put out like the smoldering fire in the midst of the camp, replaced by the suns rays and Legends arms around you.

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu #legend linked universe #hall has written

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makrokosmuss-blog · 1 year

Text

To see me

Summary: A head wound can be fatal for a Mandalorian. To not reveal ones face contrasting strictly with a pain that needs to be treated. Yet Din finds himselfs a savior - and is himself shocked at how much his touch starved soul enjoys each and every caress of soft hands.

Warning: Head trauma, blind reader, a lot of pining and a bit anxiety from Mando's side A/N: Due to request here a little short story about a blind reader/ medic reader tending to Mando.

“It is fine.” “It is not.” The Armorers voice was firm and it still made Din quiver like a boy when she spoke in that tone to him. It also made the throbbing pain on the back of his head worse. Injuries to the head were not usual for Mandalorians. For reasons that need not be explained. Especially because of that reason they were deadly as well. The motivation to never show one's face was deemed to be greater than the one to stop a slow painful death due to a head wound. This was the Second time Din had ended up with one. The first time he’d thankfully been in the presence of a droid that helped him out. This time however, he hadn’t been as lucky. It was at the back of his head too, he was unable to treat it no matter how often he’d tried. With dizziness and a migraine that drove him mad he’d made it to the others, hoping he’d recover if he’d just rested. Again, he hadn’t been lucky. Days had passed and his state had nothing but worsened. A fever joined the migraine and the vertigo and it hadn’t been long til the Armorer had caught on to it. “If it’s a head wound it needs treatment. Soon.”, she spoke, her voice still tense and like she was scolding a thick headed child. “And how am i going to get that?”, Mando asked, looking up at her. In his state, sick with fever and his vision blurred even through the sharpening visor he felt like laying straight back down. Grugo sat on his makeshift bed beside him. Cooing worryingly. The little guy had not left his side since it had happened and had that saddened look on his little green face that made Din’s heart melt. The foundling had tried often enough to get under his helmet, use his healing on him but yet again and again Din had carefully sat him down, telling him it was not right.

The Madnalorian before him crossed her arms, armor shining in its golden hue as it caught the light of the setting suns outside the window. It caused Din’s migraine to flare up worse than before. “I would know someone. I have to see if they are still around…”, she said. Her voice lower now, nearly a whisper. Mando frowned, shaking his head, slowly, not to make matters worse. “How would that work out?”, he asked, confused by her statement. Yet again, he wasn’t quite fit to think at all lately. “It does. I’ve sought them out many times before.”, the Armorer explained in a calming tone. “Is it a droid, then? I still don’t love them but i’d surely give it a go…”, he answered. Even he noticed just how weak he sounded. “No droid. But it is right for our kind. You can trust me on this, I will make contact. Rest now.” Din felt her hand on his shoulder. Warm. And reassuring. His head killed him. He closed his eyes. Trusting her.

Grogu whined. A day had passed and Din found himself in his cockpit, readying the ship for flight. He looked over his shoulder, watching the little guy squeal. “What? I’m fine. I can fly you know.”, he said out loud. Watching Grorgu’s reaction. “I can. Don’t give me that look. I’m fine enough. I won’t kill us.”, he muttered, turned back to face the console again. Sometimes he felt crazy. For talking so much to his foundling, knowing he would get no answer. Maybe all the years of doing missions in solitude had made him mad after all. Nervous, definitely. Nervous to meet someone. Nervous about what would happen. About how this would go. He stared ahead. The ship was ready to go. Grugo cooed. “Fine Fine I’ll put the thing on auto-pilot. Let’s go.”, Din sighted, forcing him to just trust fate on this one. I. A Gaze He held Grogu closely, pressed against him. This was the place. He was sure of it. And yet he had not knocked nor rang for a minute now, simply staring the door down. The planet was nice. Clean. Green - bluish flora bloomed around the place. The street seemed awfully clean. No shady alleys, no run down taverns, no greasy walls. This wall before him was pure white. A house build of strangely white and smooth stone. Strange flying tiny creatures around him, surrounding the flowers in the garden before it that he still stood in. Grogu, once more, brought him back to reality. A soft coo this time. As if he was asking if everything was alright. It caused Mando to take a sharp inhale, his heart still beating fast. He did not know why he was nervous at all. Maybe because he was about to take off his helmet in there. Or maybe because this place seemed all too wrong for him. Too clean, too nice. He sat his Foundling down carefully. His head spun as he did. It reminded him all too well exactly why he found himself here in the first place. He stared ahead again. The display in his visor telling him once more that yes - this was the location he was ought to be. Somehow, even though it was the Armorer herself who’d sent him here, he felt his anxiety act up. He’d messed up already. He’d taken off the helmet before. He’d swore to himself he’d do anything to never have that happen again. And here he was, about to break that promise. Grogu squealed. He seemed happy enough. Raising his little hands to touch the blue leaves and then tried to get to the little creatures that sat on it. “Alright then. Let’s go.” Din took a deep breath, lifted his hand and knocked. Three times. Muscles tight. Expression stern. And then it all changed. Then She opened the door. II. A Whisper

It had taken her a while to get the door. To make her way towards the knocking sound, but as she did, she had surely noticed him standing before it. Mando stared her down. Straight up gazing at her soft features. The shine of her hair. The silken dress that hugged her figure loosely but oh so wonderfully. She was radiant. Dazzling. Mando felt his heart drop into his stomach, his heart picking up. She hadn’t spoken a single word until now. And he hadn’t either. Damn it he hadn’t even moved. This woman was supposed to take care of his head? How was that going to work out? Ignoring the fact that her looks bedazzled him, he still did not know how she was to solve this problem that he had. That he was here for. Mando watched her closely. Taking a deep breath. He was just about to say something when he noticed her soft smile changing into a confused little tilt of her head as she drew her brows together. “Hello?”, she asked, uncertainty tainting her voice. Hello? Mando was the one frowning in confusion now. Why was she asking as if she didn’t see him standing right in front of her. Grogu squealed on the ground, raising his tiny arms towards the woman and grinning brightly - as if he’d solved the mystery before him. Mando, following the little one's gaze looked up again and then, suddenly it clicked for him as well. She did indeed not see him. It was the certain silver glimmer in her eyes that had given it away. Only visible when he was truly looking for it. She was blind. It rang through his head. And so many questions were answered. Quickly explaining himself, Mando stood up straight. He cleared his throat, then spoke: “I ah…the Mandalorian. The Headwound. The Amorer send me.” Not much of an explanation, he noticed quickly. Feeling a bit shy and nervous and still dizzy before her. The smile returned to the woman's features none the less and she quickly nodded, making a small and elegant side-step to make room for him to enter the door. “Of course! I’ve been waiting for you. Please, come in.”, she chimed, the smile on her lips genuine, Mando did notice now. In the way the focus of her eyes was just off. She moved so naturally though. So beautifully, swayfully elegant. The woman had already made him forget the pain in his head for just a minute there. III. A touch He had entered the small house. Had been told to sit down. Mando did, as usual, exactly as he was told. It gave him time to look around and calm his breathing. He was still nervous as hell, even though this turn of events had indeed calmed him a bit. She could look at him, straight up, no helmet involved, and would not see his face. It was quite the genius concept for a mandalorian medic, really. Yet again, he asked himself just how good of a medic she was if she could not see what the hell she was doing. It frightened him a little. As did the fact that he was still to remove his helmet right in front of the lovely woman. He had asked her where he could sit Grogu down for the time being. She had shown him to a room. A couch in it. A desk. Not much more. Yet the cushions were soft enough and with some loving words of encouragement and explanation the little foundling sat perfectly still on them. Mando bringing his favorite snack along and offering it as a bribe surely had helped as well. That dilemma was taken care of then. Only her remained. Her, the mysterious woman who still sorted things out just behind him. Her, that made him all so nervous in two very different ways. “Are the blinds closed?”, she asked, her voice as soft as he remembered it. He did not need to look at them to know they weren’t. “No. May I close them?”, he asked, a frown on his features. He’d love to get up and just…move to ease the tight muscles and calm his quickly beating heart. “Yes that would be lovely, thank you.”, she smiled softly, turning to him. He watched her again. Not returning the smile. She wouldn’t see it anyway. He asked himself if that was making it better or worse for his conscience. He needed to ask. At least to take the pressure off a little. Yet he felt it was not very nice to do so. He wavered, then turned over his shoulder as he closed the black curtains before the window, darkening the room. “I…I’m sorry to ask. truly I am but…”, he started, soon to be interrupted by her. He was surprised that it turned out to be a chuckle. A sweet and delightful yet soft chuckle. “I see nothing. No worries. You can take the helmet off without restraint, Mandalorian. This isn’t the first time I am doing this.”, she explained. Her tone was reassuring and well meant. It eased him a little. “Huh…Alright then.”, he agreed quietly, taking his seat once more. He looked around. The room was pretty barren, a bit minimalistic but apart from that nice and still cozy in a way. “Anything I can…do?”, he asked, tapping the chair nervously with his gloved fingers. She smiled at that, concentrated on her silver tray before her with all kinds of useful utensils on it. “You may undress.”, she spoke. It made Mando’s skin trickle. “All or…”, he asked, voice deep, trying his best not to stutter. “It’s just the head wound, yes?”, she asked, raising a brow. “Yes, all else iis taken care of.”, he answered dryly. “Just the helmet, the gloves and the shoulder pieces then. Please.” Just. Mando disliked even that quite a lot. Yet got to work quickly. All felt relatively normal but the helmet. He wavered at the helmet. Not quite daring to take it off just yet. She moved over to him then. And then he felt her. Soft hands, caressing over his shoulder, towards his chest.

The man felt blood rushing to his head and his skin tingled. He had been so touch starved for so long that even this felt like the most intimate thing he’s felt in months and just like that, he tensed up underneath her gentle hands. She stood behind him. Her hands on his shoulder, caressing and massaging along the neck. “Helmet is still on, I feel.”, she teased. The woman did not judge nor pressure him. She sounded understanding, if anything. “I..yeah…Sorry it’s…”, he started, stumbling over his words. impossible. horrid. most intimate. near hurtful. “I understand. Completely. We’ll take it slow, no need to remove it just now.”, she spoke. Her tone was so calm and reassuring. So very guiding and careful with him. Mando found himself enjoying that a bit too much for his own liking and just like that he leaned back a little, enjoying the massage of his strained neck. A touch most magical.

“Tell me what exactly the problem is.”, she offered, trying to ease him into teh experience. Mando sighted. Closing his eyes. “Mission gone wrong. I landed head first on stone. Hard. Usually the helmet buffers each fall but I must've landed in a bad way. Hit my head. Just above the right eye.”, he explained. He was still tense. Still nervous. His heart was pacing quickly and his breathing was irregular. She only hummed softly. Urging him to go on. Her hands never stopped caressing him. She felt wonderful.

“I…had a bad headache after that. Noticed blood trickling out from underneath my helmet. Checked myself in the mirror. Was too dazed to do something about it myself. It only got worse after I checked back in with the others.”, he continued. He was easing slightly. Losing himself in her touch and his tale. “I understand.”, she nearly whispered, “What exactly worsened?” This time he answered straight away. Way less restrained. “The pain. Dull and throbbing behind my forehead. Dizziness. Nausea.”, he sighted.

“I am very sorry to hear that. I’ll see what I can do, It might be serious however.”, she warned him, genuine worry and feel in her voice. Mando nodded. “I…trust you. I suppose.”

“You can. Many of your brothers and sisters have come here. There wasn’t one yet whom I could not aid.”, the woman spoke reassuringly, squeezing his shoulders lightly as a little heads up. Mando found himself smiling at that. “Now. Helmet. Want to take it off yourself or do you want me to do it?”

He froze again at that. Damn he’d grown quite comfortable just now. Could’ve stayed like that…but there was the matter at hand. “I…” Mando had never ever thought that he would ever let someone else touch his helmet. Yet again. Many Mandalorians had come here. He was safe with her. It was alright. It was fine. Trauma trickled underneath his skin. To be seen. To remove the helmet himself and… “Would you do it?” He wouldn’t want to repeat that trauma.

She was soft. And respectful. Her slender hands found the right button to release the tight grip of the helmet all too soon and with the uttermost care she grasped underneath the metal, lifting it off his head.

Mando still hated and loathed every second of it, yet again, the extreme pain that flooded through his body like a toxin as soon as the pressure of the helmet was released showed him just how much this action was necessary,

“Are you okay?”

She had asked carefully, still holding his helmet in her hands. “I…Yeah.”, the Mandalorian before her answered. Sweetly, she reached over him, placing the helmet back into his hands, so he could hold tightly onto it during the procedure. She still stood behind him. Still, even in theory could not glance at his features. Din Djarin felt utterly naked nonetheless.

“You have a lovely voice. By the way.”, she then said. Mando frowned, turning his head over his shoulder to look at her without a second thought. “What?”, he asked, not noticing he had just turned his features to her right then. She seemed to look right through him. So sweet, so beautiful she stood before him, a lovely smile on her perfect lips. “Without the modulator. You sound handsome.”, she repeated herself. A blush creeped up her cheeks and Mando felt his heartbeat picking up pace once more.

“I…thank you.” “You are very welcome.” “You”, , he stopped himself there. not daring to tell her just how wonderful she looked, “It’s…nothing. Sorry.” “All good then. Let’s get you sorted out.”, she spoke with that smile of hers, closing in again.

Her soft hands running over his bare skin. He reveled in every last one of her touches. Painful or not. “You’ll be out of here in no time, Mandalorian.”, she promised. He could hear the smile in her soft voice. Hoping she would be wrong.

@animefan3223 @shinymoonstarfish @imokayunlessyoumentionendgame @that-girl-named-alexamed-alex @frau-moon @leeeggggsssssss @beardie-mama @why-always-me-gosh-please @lizziel1410 @momolulukai @hymnofthevalkyrie @sunshinerainbowmurderkitten @sunipostsstuff @louist91syndromedrome @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @danceswithsporks @minetticatinwonderland @sunipostsstuff @sparrowwithaquill @monkeyking-and-liuer-mate @sinon36 @a-rose-of-amber @ and for : @lolitalatteart

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maladaptive-day-dreams · 2 years

Note

why good day and hello!

lovely to be acquainted with the talented writer behind some of the lovely examples I've read! I do hope you're starting the day swell ♡

as we jump into the spooky season, i was kinda curious of the concept of vampire!eddie forming a sweet bond with a shy!hunter reader; perhaps in due time it opens the both up more and blossom into some special?

I am SO sorry this took so long😅life got hella busy and this got 3k words longer than intended🫣

Unlikely Friends

vamp!eddie x gn!shy!vamp hunter!reader, angst & fluff, 4.7k words

CW: blood/mention of blood, new vampire hunter reader, talk of duty, verbal teasing, sweet moments, parental disowning, Steve being a bit of a dick, worried Dustin

You’re new to the whole “vampire hunter” thing. Your dad sprung it on you last month on your 20th birthday and you started training the next day.

You still don’t know how you got here though—wandering through the dark forest of Hawkins Indiana with only a stake gun and some vervain shots.

“You got this kid, you’ll do great,” your dad had said as he gave you the weapons and gently pushed you towards the woods.

That seemed far fetched considering you could barely deal with the sight of blood in anatomy class when you dissected frogs or at the doctors office after you fainted that day when they had to take blood to check you out.

But here you are, stake gun in hand, eyes wide open and searching, ears alert, heart racing. Each of your steps are calculated. Remembering that your dad mentioned there was a sighting at a bonfire by the Harrington’s place that was the first place you headed. As you closed in on the Harrington house, the hairs on the back of your neck stood up and you spun around to catch a flash…of a leather jacket?

Without thinking you aimed and fired a stake at the blur that ran in front of you, sharpened wood barreling through the air only to splinter into pieces as it made contact with a tree ten feet in front of you.

“Not even gonna buy me dinner before you try and kill me?”

The voice was soft but powerful, not menacing like your father made vampires out to be. “Ruthless, fucking blood suckers. Monsters,” he’d say.

You hesitantly step back, your back meeting a tree trunk after a few steps. You close your eyes and breathe deeply trying to still your racing heart.

“Sweetheart, your heartbeat is racing. Are you excited to see me?” The voice teased again.

You didn’t respond, squeezing your eyes shut tighter in the hopes that when you opened them you’d be at home and not still in the woods. A shiver ran up your spine and your eyes shot open to see a man before you.

His eyes are a deep, chocolate brown with specks of amber. His dark hair falls in loose and frizzy waves just past his shoulders. A breeze picks up his scent of cigarettes, dewy moss and something salty but sweet. And as your eyes search his face, his plump lips curl up into a toothy smile that bares his fangs for you to see.

Your breath catches and you squeeze your eyes shut again, turning your head to the side. His hot breath hits your now exposed neck and you hear him inhale deeply.

“Fuck, darling. You smell good.”

You whimper, “please let me go home. I just want to go home.”

At that, you feel the vampire’s presence leave you. Opening your eyes to empty woods again you run all the way home, doing your best not to trip on any tree roots. ____

It’s been three days since your encounter in the woods. You try and acclimate into your new environment by walking the new mall in town—apparently the last one caught fire. You pop into a few stores and soon find yourself at the ice cream shop in the food court.

“Hello! Welcome to Scoops Ahoy, what can I get a sweet newcomer like you?” A kind-eyed brown haired man asks. You look between him and his female coworker before checking what flavors they have.

“Can I get a single scoop of Buttered Pecan in a cup please?”

“Anything for you darling,” he says with a smile.

You watch him work, his name tag catching the light, Steve. Looking to his coworker you see her name tag reads Robin. According to your dad’s notes a guy named Steve and girl named Robin were at the Harrington house when the vampire was last seen. As Steve finishes getting your scoop and brings it to the register you catch a flash of skin on his wrist where his sweatband rose. He pushed it back down quickly but you swore you saw fang marks.

“How much?” You ask.

“On the house today for the newbie in town,” Steve smiles.

“Oh,” you will your cheeks not to heat but alas, they do and now you’re blushing at a stranger. “Thank you.”

You take your ice cream and make your way to a table to finish it, staying close enough to hear Robin and Steve’s conversation.

“Ah another loss for King Steve.”

“Shut it Robin. What are we going to do about Eddie? He took from me last time—a lot honestly, I almost passed out—and none of the kids are free to help us. He can’t hunt animals for shit and there’s no way for us to like steal any, so what do we do? He’s gonna starve if we don’t do something.”

“I don’t know Steve. We’ll figure something out, we always do.”

Eddie. The name rolls around in your head. Could that be the name of the vampire that spared you? Could he be different? No, he took blood from his friend. But Steve said kids? He has to be different for there to be kids involved right? But with everything Dad has taught me, he can’t be different. Can he? ______

Dad had the radio scanner going last night and he caught a walkie talkie transmission between Steve a kid named Dustin—probably one of the ones Steve said was out of town a few days ago. So here you are getting dropped off at the same trailhead Dad let you out at last Saturday. Stake gun in hand plus something else in your satchel that your dad doesn’t need to know about.

You walk slowly into the tree line, heart beating rapidly like usual. Once you’ve made it into the thick of the woods your eyes move from your surroundings to your feet so you don’t trip on anything.

“Are you nervous, darling?” A familiar voice asks.

Your breath hitches and you stop dead in your tracks.

“Is that why you’re looking down?”

You close your eyes and focus on steadying your breathing.

“Awe, c’mon sweetheart, I hate one-sided conversations.”

You still didn’t move, eyes still closed, heart hammering in your chest. But when you hear his footsteps circle you and feel a hand run across your stomach and around your back, you drop your head and plead. “Please, I’m sorry, my father is making me do this, look for you. I don’t want to, Eddie.”

His steps stop when you utter his name.

“Eddie?” You slowly lift your head and open your eyes to find another empty forest before you. You breathe slowly and unpack your satchel. You put out your two water bottles, one filled with the rabbits blood from the three rabbits you trapped early last week for Dad’s rabbit stew and the other with deers blood from the buck your dad shot two days ago that’s currently curing for venison jerky. You had labeled the bottles crudely with a sharpie—trying your best not to pass out from the sight of blood—before shoving them into your satchel and covering them with a jacket. You also left the note, settled between the two bottles on the fallen tree a few feet away from you.

Hi Eddie , (I hope you’re who Steve was talking about on Wednesday, if not sorry for misnaming you).

I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N). My father is a vampire hunter from Louisiana and he brought us up here when he first heard about the “animal attacks” that happened after the “earthquake.” He kinda sprung it on me. I didn’t even know vampires were a thing until my 20th birthday a week and a half ago when he forced me to start training.

I promise I don’t want to do this. I don’t even want to be here, but he’s all I’ve got left and it’s my “duty” as a (Y/L/N). There’s deer and rabbit blood in the bottles for you, so you can give Steve a break until Dustin and the other kids come back in to town.

I’m sorry, (Y/N)

______

It’s become a Saturday night tradition for Dad to drop you at the edge of the woods. So as you make your way past the trailhead and into the trees, hearing the car drive off behind you, you close your eyes and breathe. Your satchel is heavier this time so the walk to the fallen tree takes a bit more out of you. By the time you get to the tree and sit down, your breathing heavy and your heartbeat is high.

“Comfortable enough to sit down now huh?” Eddie says.

You don’t respond, still nervous in the presence of a vampire. This time he walks slowly to you, instead of running like a flash of wind.

“You gonna actually talk to me this time, (Y/N)?”

You swallow, “you read the letter?”

“Yeah and the blood actually lasted me a little while,” he says coming to sit on the rock across from you. “Thanks for that.”

You smile at him.

“You don’t talk much do you?” He laughs.

A blush rises to your cheeks, “sorry.”

“It’s alright sweetheart, I don’t mind doing all the talking.”

You unpack your satchel in front of him. This time pulling out three bottles of blood for him, on top of a new shirt and a fresh pair of socks.

“Damn, you really know how to take care of a guy.”

You laugh as you toss him the shirt and socks. “I got you a hair tie too,” this time you get up and walk over to him to give it to him.

He looks up at you from where he sits on the rock and smiles. Eyes glinting in the moonlight and fangs bared. You’re not afraid this time, instead you look at him with curiosity.

“Might wanna take a picture darling, it’ll last longer,” he smirks as he takes the scrunchie from you and ties back his hair.

You shyly lower your eyes and step back, turning your back towards him as you retreat to your perch on the fallen tree. You don’t hear him move but you feel his body beside you moments after you reach the tree.

“Fuck, Jesus,” you say, hand over your heart.

“Sorry,” he laughs, hand reaching up to rub at his neck. “Still trying to get used to the speed.”

“It’s okay,” reaching towards the bottles you hand them to him one-by-one. “There’s rabbit in this one but it might be a bit old, dad made stew again earlier this week. And these two are wild turkey, they have a lot more blood than you’d think.”

“Thank you, (Y/N). Really. Steve was thankful too when I saw him last.”

“You’re welcome,” you sit back down on the tree and pull out a sandwich from your pack. “Do you mind if I-?”

“If you eat? So long as you don’t mind if I drink,” he laughs lightly.

You shake your head no, “I don’t mind.”

So you sit in silence, having your meals in the woods together. Both of you thankful for the company. ______

You look forward to Saturdays now. Dad thinks it’s because you’re enjoying the hunt but really it’s because you’re enjoying your weekly midnight dinners with Eddie. You’re going on four months of knowing Eddie and helping him. Two Saturdays ago you let Eddie tell Steve who was getting him blood, and this Saturday Steve, Robin and Dustin have come to meet you.

You get to the fallen tree first, perching criss-cross applesauce atop it. And shortly before you finish unpacking your and Eddie’s dinners, someone closes their hands around your eyes.

“Hmm, I wonder who that could be,” you laugh. “Eddie, quit teasing!”

Eddie’s laugh bellows behind you as he takes his hands off your eyes and hugs you around the waist from behind. You lean your head up to look at him and match the smile on his face with one of your own.

“Well I’ll be damned, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Eddie hug someone other than the kids or Uncle Wayne,” a familiar feminine voice comes from behind Eddie. Robin, Steve and Dustin were trailing behind Eddie who probably sprinted to get to you before they could ruin the surprise.

Eddie lets go of your waist and hops onto the tree beside you, sitting down and going for a bottle of blood.

“Eddie hold on I didn’t tell you what it is this week,” you laugh trying to grab the bottle from him. Steve leans agains a tree across from the log you and Eddie are sitting on while Robin and Dustin sit on the rock beside him.

“What if I wanted to guess this week?”

“There’s not much for us to hunt in Indiana so it would be an easy guess,” you laugh.

“Well, your dad makes rabbit stew like every week so I know one of these is rabbit.” He looks to you and you nod in confirmation.

“It won’t be stale this week, we went hunting on Thursday so everything is only two days old.”

“I’m sorry did you just say blood can go stale?” Dustin asks.

“I mean, not necessarily ‘stale’ but it gets more clotted the longer it sits out and I don’t want my dad asking questions so I can’t keep these in the fridge at home.”

“Oh right, yeah, your vampire hunter dad,” Steve scoffs. “Can we really trust them Eddie?”

You look down at your hands at Steve’s comment and Eddie notices. His hand comes to rest on your shaking knee.“Shut it, Harrington,” he bites.

“I’m just saying. Their dad is a vampire hunter, they’re literally only here to kill you. Why are we blindly trusting them? Just because they decided not to kill him yet and to feed him instead?”

“Steve,” Robin whispers.

“Don’t, Robin, you know I’m right.”

“C’mon man,” Dustin breathes.

“They could just be trying to get on Eddie’s good side so it’s easier for them to stab him in the back. They could be slowly poisoning him with the blood they bring! You guys know I’m right. We can’t trust a hunter,” Steve spits that last part at you with so much venom in his voice.

Your breathing grows heavier with Steve’s verbal assault and you feel tears prick at your eyes. Eddie can hear your heartbeat and he starts to get angry.

“Really, Steve? You decide to do this now? A week after they trusted me enough to let me tell you it was them keeping me alive? A week after they agreed to meet you guys? Right now?” Eddie doesn’t yell it but you can feel the anger radiating off of him as he sits beside you.

“Don’t,” you whisper. “Don’t fight about me being here. I-I’ll just go.” You pack up your satchel with your uneaten sandwich and get off the tree you sat on. “I brought you an extra blanket since it’s getting colder earlier. I know you probably have some already, but-“

“(Y/N), you don’t have to go,” Eddie says, his voice laced with sadness and…something else?

You shake your head and grab your bag, “it’s okay, Eds.”

You give him a soft smile and start the trek back to your house. ______

Next Saturday evening, you find Dad in the kitchen.

“I’m not feeling too well, can we skip this week?”

“Sure thing, everything alright?”

“Yeah I think I went too hard in training this week,” you give him a weak smile. “A day or two of rest should be fine. I should be good to go back out next week.”

You didn’t tell Eddie you wouldn’t be there.

He waited until sunrise for you.

The next Saturday was the same.

Eddie still waited.

The next Tuesday your dad left to get some supplies so you were home alone. Around lunch time there was a knock on the door. Hesitantly, you looked through the peep hole only to find Dustin nervously shifting from foot to foot outside your door.

“(Y/N),” he says drawing out the last part of your name. “Please open up, please. It’s Eddie, he’s not doing well.”

Your heart breaks, and so does your resolve. You open the door and silently welcome Dustin in.

“Fuck, okay okay (Y/N) this is Code Red. Eddie hasn’t eaten in two weeks. He can’t hunt to save his life and he won’t take from me, Steve, or Robin. He’s not doing well. He’s weak and slow and you can tell the lack of blood is really really bad for him, you have to do something.”

“Vampires will start to decay after 3 weeks of no blood. After 4 they’ll be petrified, after 6 they turn to ash.”

“Not helping, (Y/N), please, please talk to him.”

You finally look at the boy standing in your living room. His eyes are tired, he looks worried, and helpless. “I don’t know what this has to do with me.”

“Are you serious? You have got to be joking. Eddie is in love with you. That night we met you I could see it, Robin could see it, Steve could see it—which is why he was a serious asshole to you,” Dustin pauses and looks at your confused face. “He misses you. That’s why he won’t eat. He thinks you hate him. He doesn’t want to be someone you hate.”

“I-“

“Just, promise me you’ll meet him this Saturday. Please?” He pleads, hands outstretched, eyes wide and begging.

You nod, “okay. But you have to go now, my dad will be home soon.”

The same afternoon, in the woods:

Dad made a pit stop at the trailhead to see if he could catch sight of the vampire. What he didn’t think he’d find was a folded piece of paper with his kids name on it on a fallen tree. He was confused, so he opened it.

Hey (Y/N), I’m sorry about all that shit Steve said. Really, truly, so sorry. You and our midnight dinners mean a lot to me. Your company (and the blood you bring me) are honestly the only things keeping me around right now.

I’ve waited here, for you, for the last two Saturdays. I even waited on both Sundays just in case it was a mistake that you didn’t show.

I don’t know if you’ll ever meet up with me again, but I hope you do. I don’t know what I’ll do without you.

I miss you With love,

I’m sorry, Eddie

Dad stuffed the letter in his coat pocket and headed back to the car. A plan forming in his mind. He knows how to catch the disgusting vampire that convinced his precious child to turn their back on their duty as a (Y/L/N). ______

The following Saturday, you're dropped at the start of the trailhead and wave to your dad as he started the drive home. You start the trek to your spot slowly, trying to give yourself time to work up any courage you might need today.

But then something happened, and you hear a familiar voice but this time it screams.

Your body moves before you can tell it to, running as fast as you can to Eddie. You get to your spot and find him leaning against the tree you usually sit on, a stake in his left side and one in the side of his knee.

“(Y/N),” he smiled through tears as you fall to your knees beside him. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“Stop, stop Eddie. It’s okay, there’s nothing to be sorry for.” Your hands hover over his wounds.

“(Y/N),” another familiar voice beckons. “Get away from the vampire, (Y/N).”

You turn and meet your dad’s gaze. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

“Dad, no. He’s different. He-“

“(Y/N)!” He yells. “Don’t dishonor us like this. You have a duty to your family. To your history.”

Eddie places his hand on yours on the ground beside him. You tear your eyes from your dad to find Eddie’s.

“It’s okay, (Y/N). You’re okay.”

“Eds,” you say tears in your eyes.

“Step away, (Y/N).”

You squeeze Eddie’s hand. “This is gonna hurt Eds okay? But I need to take these out so you can start healing.”

“Okay,” Eddie winces as your hands find the stake in his knee.

“(Y/N), stop,” Dad orders. You remove the stake in Eddie's knee and look back to Dad, stake gun raised to Eddie’s chest. You stand and place yourself between Eddie and Dad.

“Get out of the way.”

“No.”

“Your going to throw away your history for a monster? That’s not how I raised you!” “No, Dad, it’s not. You raised me to be kind. Innocent until proven guilty. Eddie is not guilty. Eddie is innocent. He’s pure, and kind, and funny, and cares for those he loves. He’s not like the vampires you learned about in your childhood. He didn’t ask to become this, he wasn’t turned. He went to hell and came back. He went into the Upside Down, died in a parallel universe and he was resurrected by a supernatural being to destroy Hawkins. But he didn’t. He came back to his friends, he found his way back to the light. He. Is. Good.”

You hoped the story Dustin and Robin told you in at Scoops Ahoy on Thursday was true. Hoped that Dad would see that Eddie wasn’t inherently evil. That vampires could be good. You thought you had reached him when he lowered his stake gun.

“Are you really that far gone?” He asks, exasperated. “Did he compel you that well? Convince you so easily?”

“Dad, no-“

“Quiet,” he bites.

“Excuse me,” Dustin says from the left of you. “Hi, sorry.”

Dustin, Steve and Robin had their hands up as they walked closer to you all. You looked over and met Dustin’s eyes, mouthing I’m sorry to him.

“Everything they said is true,” Steve speaks next. “Eddie wasn’t turned by another vampire, we didn’t even know there were other vampires until you and (Y/N) came to town.”

“Yeah,” Robin chimed in. “Eddie was possessed by this evil guy named Vecna who killed like four of our friends. Vecna pulled a Frankenstein and changed Eddie before using him to try and get to us. But he was able to fight it. He’s good, we promise he’s good.”

“(Y/N)?” Eddie whispered behind you. You turned around and dropped to your knees between his legs.

“Hey, hey, look at me Eds,” you put both hands on his cheeks to lift his head. “You’re gonna be okay, are you healing?”

You look beside you to the wound on his knee that should be healed, only for it not to be. “Dustin, Dustin, were you able to get rabbit blood?” You ask frantically, looking over to him.

He nods no, hands still raised towards Dad.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you mutter under your breath. “Hold on, Eds. Hold on. You don’t get to leave me just yet.”

You stand and face Dad. “You, you are going to leave.”

He stares at you. “How dare you.”

“How dare you. Holding a weapon at a three people you don’t know over a man you don’t know. I know Eddie. I know he’s good. What happened to trust, huh? You wanted me to trust you when you told me we came from a line of vampire hunters. To trust you to train me. To trust you to keep me safe. Where is your trust in me? Do you not think I’m skilled enough to know when an enemy is lying? When an enemy is an enemy? Eddie isn’t the enemy, Dad. Eddie is good. Please listen to me. Trust me."

Dad points his stake gun back at Eddie.

“DAD,” you yell, hot tears falling down your cheeks. “You can’t. I love him.”

That has the stake gun pointing to the ground. “You can’t.”

“I can. I do.”

Dad spits at the ground by your feet and you flinch. “You,” he pauses to look in your eyes. “Are no child of mine. You leave Hawkins, he dies.” He states pointing to Eddie.

“Dad,” you cry. “Pleas-“

“I have no children,” he states, turning and leaving you to tend to Eddie.

You choke back sobs as you kneel between Eddie’s legs again. “Eddie, Eddie look at me please.”

He doesn’t move. “Eddie?” You say frantically. “Eddie please, please don’t do this.”

You yank the second stake from his side and put your hands on either side of his neck to hold his head up.

“Eddie,” you cry. Blinking back tears you reach into your boot and pull out a small knife.

“Whoa, whoa whoa, (Y/N), what are you doing?” Steve asks as he, Robin and Dustin rush over to you and Eddie.

“He needs blood,” you say, steeling your nerves as you drag the blade across your palm. You bite your lip at the pain and lift your hand to rest on Eddie’s lips. “Please,” you beg in a low voice. “Please, Eddie. Please.”

“It’s working,” Dustin whispers. “His knee, his side, they’re healing.”

You breathe out a sad laugh, hand still resting on Eddie’s lips. His hands move, one coming to rest on your hip, the other on your wrist to push your bloodied hand away from him.

“No, no, no, Eddie. You need blood,” you say, pushing your hand closer to him.

“(Y/N), hold on,” he croaks from a dry throat. He looks to the other three, “can you guys give us a few minutes?”

“Oh, uh yeah,” Robin says nudging Steve and Dustin as they get up to walk towards Harrington’s house. “We’ll be at Harrington’s when you’re done!” She calls behind them.

“Eddie, please, drink.”

“Alright sweetheart, alright,” he chuckles, then winces. “I just wanted some privacy, sharing blood is a bit on the intimate side for me.”

“But Steve?”

“Yeah I never drank from his wrist, I would just bite him and then he would let it go into a cup or a bowl or something and then I’d give him my blood the same way to heal him up.”

“Oh, I-I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he smiles. “You didn’t know and I don’t think I’d be here if you hadn’t thought fast like that.” The hand that was on your waist, reaches up to your neck. “Thank you, darling. Thank you.”

You smile and offer him your palm again. This time he takes it willingly, lapping at the gash and drinking until you tap on his cheek that you need a break. Your head was fuzzy and your hand throbbed. As was something in your chest—a feeling, a warmth.

Eddie wiped his lips with the back of his hand before biting his wrist and reaching it towards you. You hesitantly take it and lift it to your lips, drinking a small amount, you both watch as your bleeding hand stitches back together after a few moments.

You look at each other, both of you feeling a bit more for the other than when you started these midnight dinners.

Eddie’s hand finds your waist again, and the other finds your neck. “Can I kiss you, (Y/N)?”

“Yes,” you breathe. Eddie drags you closer to him, his lips gently pressing against yours in a chaste kiss. He pulls back and nuzzles into your neck, inhaling. “Fuck, the first day we met I thought you'd taste as good as you smell. Didn't think I'd ever learn if I was right, but Jesus H. Christ you do. ”

You tense slightly at the comment. “Sorry, sorry. I’ll shut up,” he murmurs into your neck, dropping a kiss to your pulse point. “So,” Eddie pulls himself from your neck and smirks. “You love me, huh?”

You laugh and stand up, holding out your healed hand to him. “You’re not going to let me forget that will you?”

“I don’t want you to forget that, ever, because I love you. And it would be weird if it was one sided after everything,” he says accepting your hand to help him stand.

“That would be a bit awkward," you laugh. "Good thing it’s not one sided.”

“Good thing, indeed,” he smiles back at you.

"Have you noticed I'm a lot better around blood now?" You ask as you head towards the Harrington house.

"I did," Eddie laughs.

"That's all because of you Eds, all because of you," you smile.

159 notes · View notes

solvskrift · 7 months

Text

go ahead, bury me | loki & mobius stumble into the wrong timeline

whumptober prompt no. 5: “You better pray I don’t get up this time around.” | debris | pinned down | “It’s broken.” also on ao3!

Loki - the other one, the one holding that damned scepter - ran a finger down the line of Mobius’s jaw.

The Loki who currently had his arms twisted up behind his back by this universe’s Corvus Glaive renewed his struggles. “Don’t touch him.”

Corvus gave his arm another vicious twist, and Loki - the real one, the proper one, he thought uncharitably - felt his shoulder scream in protest.

‘Other’ Loki smirked at his counterpart, tilting his head in a way that suggested he was observing a mildly interesting specimen. “What is his significance to you?” he asked, flicking his gaze from Loki to Mobius and back. “I admit, there is a certain…quaint charm about him. He might make a good pet, I suppose.” He chuckled, low and vicious. “Now, if that’s the case, I could perhaps see how you might be one of my - variants , did you call them?”

Loki worked his jaw, muscles bunching under his captor’s grip.

Mobius caught his eye. Gave an infinitesimal shake of his head, and Loki could practically hear him saying, ‘ Don’t do anything ridiculous, Merlin.’

Loki swallowed. “Let him go,” he insisted, drawing on all of his control to keep his voice even, “and I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Loki - ” Mobius began to protest but was cut off by Other-Loki giving his hair a vicious yank, forcing his neck backward and exposing his throat.

“You speak when spoken to, mortal,” he hissed, and released Mobius just enough that he wasn’t staring at the ceiling of the ship. He turned his attention back to Loki. “An interesting offer…”

He paused, considering.

“Anything I want?”

“Yes,” Loki said, involuntarily lurching forward. Corvus wrenched him back. “Yes, I swear it.”

Other-Loki hummed. Then smiled. “Pathetic,” he said, and thrust the sharpened end of the scepter into Mobius’s gut.

“NO!” screamed Loki, struggling so fiercely he could feel his joints straining, popping.

“Oh, dear me.” Other-Loki allowed Mobius to drop to the floor like a marionette whose strings had been snipped. “I think I broke it.”

Mobius let out a horrid, awful wheeze, wet with blood and bile. His eyes found Loki’s and fluttered, attempting to focus.

‘Don’t do anything ridiculous, Merlin.’

In his head, he heard Mobius laugh - that small, genuine laugh he always hid behind a fist when Loki had said something, done something he couldn’t resist.

Loki’s vision blurred and his limbs began to shake.

This was not happening.

He would not let it.

It was barely an effort, a whisper of a thought, to allow his growing horror, his rage to twist in on itself. To let the connection to Yggdrasil he had carried within his body since birth to draw on the power for which it ceaselessly called out, the power he had been taught and trained and lectured into fighting against every second of his fraudulent life. It burned him from the inside out, flowing through every atom of his being until he could feel it licking along his skin.

Distantly, he heard Corvus shout as if in pain. Through the haze of his vision he caught just a glimpse of Other-Loki’s face, etched with surprise and perhaps a little fear, before Loki screamed, a wordless cry of sheer agony, and let go.

The energy exploded outward, blasting his surroundings with an unstoppable wave of utter destruction. It burned like the center of a star, gold and green and terrible, and then it was gone as quickly as it had come.

Corvus was lying at an odd angle at the other end of the room, his spine broken over a steel beam. Proxima had tried to run. Her eyes were still bleeding out onto the floor.

Other-Loki hung from the wall, impaled on his own scepter, eyes wide and blank and staring.

Loki barely spared them a glance.

He knelt next to Mobius.

His eyes were closed. His chest still rose and fell in tiny, faltering movements.

Gently, very gently, Loki slipped his arms underneath Mobius’s legs and back and lifted him into the air, gathering him close to his chest.

“I have you,” he whispered, a profound calm soothing his heart as he stepped carefully over the strewn bodies and debris. “Don’t worry, Mobius. I have you.”

He called up the image in his mind of an opening to a world path and, with Mobius secure in his arms, stepped through it onto Yggdrasil’s branches without once looking back.

#whumptober2023 #no.5 #lyric #debris #pinned down #quote #marvel #loki #lokius #fic #non graphic violence #solv fic #oops forgot to post this here

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diezmil10000 · 9 months

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Hi hi, hope you're doing well!! Wanted to ask if you could explain how you pick colours! They're always so appealing to look at... (If you could also explain how you pick blush colours it'd be great! I never manage to pick good ones, no matter how hard I try :'))

hi anon, i'm doing fine!! it's summer right now where i live and that's healing all my problems (⁠◡⁠ ⁠ω⁠ ⁠◡⁠)

i have recorded the process of some of my drawings and everything is posted in my youtube channel (in twitter too), so i'll drop the link here and try my best to explain the coloring part to you. the short answer is that none of the colors you see in my drawings are similar to those i initially picked.

i try to keep my lineart loose but i pay attention to the outlines so i can quickly select the outer parts, invert the selection and fill it with the bucket tool. my base colors are all 100% opaque and i don't use any fancy brushes here.

as to how i pick colors, i never use the color picker tool, i eyeball everything. that's important for me because i tend to make all of them warmer: the greens are dark yellows, the pinks are light reds, and everything that's close to blue is very desaturated. i do this even for drawings that turn out much different later, unless i have a very specific vibe in mind from the beginning. i also never use pure whites for anything, and if something is black i make it part of the lineart.

then i always color my lineart!! there's no trick to that, the layer is in normal mode and i just paint it with a darker color than what's below it. i usually add the shadows and highlights at this stage of the drawing too. you're going to kill me for this but shade with gray set in color burn or linear burn (never multiply). i just don't want to think about color variety at this stage because it makes things more difficult for later. sometimes i add textures and some basic color correction here (curves, color balance, layers set in overlay, etc.) but i mostly leave that for the next part.

as to how i choose blush colors, i usually pick the base color and move it towards the saturated end of the color wheel, and a bit more pink. sometimes i add a multiply layer and airbrush hot red over the base colors at low opacity. coloring the lineart with hot colors surrounding the blush areas helps a lot too :)

i also almost always duplicate the lineart, blur it and set it in linear burn (i paint this layer in a light gray). this adds a lot of depth to the drawing, especially if later combined with the bloom effect.

the key to why the colors in my art pop so much is that i don't enjoy drawing as much as i enjoy postprocessing pictures 😂🤣😅👌✌️👍 once i'm satisfied with the "base" colors i merge everything except the background, open a new canvas and go crazy with filters and textures. that's why i use ibispaint X even if i do the lineart elsewhere (krita), and even if it works a bit wonky with big canvases.

i do something different for each drawing here, so first i'm going to explain my reasoning so that you understand my process: i used to have a problem of using very strong colors that overshadowed my beloved lineart into which i had put a lot of effort, so my goal nowadays is to make everything look less contrasted without losing the visual impact of saturated colors. that way the lineart remains a strong point and not just a way to separate one color from another.

what i usually do is duplicate the new merged layer, set it to exclusion mode, add a gradient map and play with the opacity. then i duplicate that and do the same thing with another gradient or another blending mode. i tend to add like 3-6 layers of bullshit over my drawings, including textures and other filters like "bloom" or "sharpen". i understand everything that's going on there but i don't think too deeply about it, i just pick whatever looks best.

for the final touches i always pull up the saturation and contrast (since a lot of it gets lost in the process), and i usually have to manually change some colors (ibispaint X has a filter to do that) or tweak the curves. then i add chromatic aberration, noise set to overlay and little polka dots set to linear dodge.

here are some comparisons of the before and after of recent drawings. the 1st one is very subtle, but you can clearly see how much warmth and depth it gains it gets after all the postprocessing. the 2nd one is so different that i understand why you're curious about how i pick colors. i don't think i can replicate that look just from picking nice colors, there's a lot more going on!! the 3rd one personally feels like it had potential lost (i liked the yellow highlights), but the colors were too strong and all over the place, so the finished result looks more intimate and calm and i like it a lot more.

thank you for the interest anon, i'm very happy that you like the way i color things and i hope i have explained myself. good luck with your own journey!!

#ask #anon #art explanations

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mldniqhts · 1 year

Text

The Way Out

Paring: Marc Spector x Reader

Summary: after Marc had left you for the dead, you come back to him with a plan for revenge.

“He’s alive, sir.” Said a man, staring behind the face of a criminal, a feared man who with just a look could terrorize one’s life.

“He’s free.” He breathed. “Out of his cage.”

After the incident that happened with Marc Spector, the betrayal as the man calls it, you were left for the dead. As no one without Spector there to protect you when you truly needed it. So so you made a name for yourself.

Tears that followed now you were what Marc never wanted to be. A murderer. A killer. A weapon.

And so you were now his vessel. A vessel to take down the will power of the so called fearless Marc Spector - a mercenary, a killer, unstable with a broken mind, Fractured.

A simple fractured mind that Bushman would soon tear apart with you under his orders.

Bushman could stab Spector in the leg. But you? You could stab him in the heart, ensuring he stays dead.

“So,” Bushman began, sharpening his knife as he felt the warmth of the fire near him burn his skin slightly. “I’m afraid I’m gonna have to run. Or really, you will.” He finished before facing you.

Standing up from your seat, you raised up your mask right over your mouth until it met over your nose. Taking a deep breath, you awaited your commands.

“Go on. Rehape the world to look like you. Just as he started.” Some will call this path of vengeance as cruel, unnecessary, unholy even. A path such as revenge should always be taken seriously, especially when that path leads to death.

But after everything? After everything you would say he deserves it. You would even say you deserve for yourself to be in this position of a killer. You’ve been one so long you have forgotten what it’s like to feel guilt, to have self control.

Bushman took that amongst other things.

And you were quite glad he took away your guilt, your grief, your emotions for with them you would be dead. You should have known better, but what could you do now? You were killer. Killers shouldn’t feel.

Killers shouldn’t feel.

“Did you have so little faith in me?” Words from Marc take you back into your reality, away from your dissociation into what lead you into this bloody mess.

Faith. What did he know about faith? He has never known faith since his brother had died.

You were seated in front of Marc. Your elbows touched your knees, holding your gaze into the dark and mysterious eyes of the fearless Marc Spector, not so fearless now as his brows were furrowed, showing you clearly he was in fact scared.

Smiling a little, you turned away from him for a moment. Was he really this ignorant? This stupid. This clueless of his actions and the consequences his choices have brought him? “Of course, I did, Spector.”

“Why should I?” You spat back.

His face turns sour.

“You never gave a fuck about me or anyone else. I see you for what you are. For who you are.”

Your words soon begin to continue themselves. Nothing can turn them off as your words of hate towards this man and what he has turned you into kept running out like a faucet.

“You only care about yourself, your- your hate towards yourself.” You managed to say through your gritted teeth, forcing them against each other you might have thought they would break.

Breathing heavily through your anger, your eyes look around for your gun. As soon as you found it in your sight, you reach for it, no one, nothing stopping you as you stood up and pointed it directly at Marc.

Tears began to prick your eyes. Tears you didn’t realize until they began burning your eyes while they blurred your vision. “This is what you did to me, Marc.”

He looked up at you. Fearful. Not so fearless anymore. So, this is what guilt feels like. Is this the emotions we have to live by? The ones that drive us to make these choices. These are the emotions that drive us into mistakes and accomplishments.

And at this point you don’t know what to make of this. A mistake, or an accomplishment?

“This is who you’ve made.” You sobbed out.

His own tears began rolling down his cheeks, his lip’s quivering with his own guilt eating him inside. He never met for this to happen. He never wanted this to happen. He never meant for this to happen.

But it did. And there was no way to reverse it.

“I’m sorry.” He managed to whisper.

Frowning, you felt guilt beginning to flow out.

And for a moment you reconsidered this. Your actions. Your choices. Your life. His life.

He’s alive. Jesus, he’s alive. He made it out of that he’ll hole. He made it out of there with blood over his hands. Maybe that his enough. Maybe that was enough. He had his way out. When will you?

#marc spector #marc spector angst #marc spector fanfic #marc spector fic #marc spector x reader #moon knight #moon knight angst #moon knight fanfic #moon knight fic #moon knight x reader #steven grant #steven grant angst #steven grant fanfiction #steven grant fluff

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coralcollective · 2 years

Text

Chapter 28 of Hogwarts: A Home by coralcollective

Art by @incendiosketches on Instagram

“Don’t apologize to me, Granger.”

Whatever possessed her to do it—frustration with his petulant behavior, the burning need for answers, an inexplicable yet innate desire to touch him—she snatched his elbow, turning him towards her. “Wait!”

Pleading. There was no other way to describe it. A plea for patience. A plea for answers. A plea for just this small touch.

His eyes fixed on the place where her small hand gripped the crook of his arm. Tiny fingers—too short. Palm—too small. Her grip couldn’t even begin to wrap around his arm, to try and truly stop his movements. And yet…he froze. Utterly transfixed on that touch. One that mimicked his from that day in the library where he too had been possessed by some instinct.

“Wait…” She breathed out again. She looked up into his face, his face that was tilted down towards hers, sharing the same breathing space. She watched the silver in his eyes, his pupils shifting sizes, narrowing and widening like they couldn’t decide how much light to let in, like they were reflecting some kind of indecision going on behind them. He wasn’t looking at her, didn’t seem to even really be paying attention to their proximity. His eyes were blurred almost.

And then it hit her.

“You’re an occlumens.” She whispered, trying her hardest not to break the quiet of the moment. As the words passed through her lips, his vision sharpened suddenly. Sharpened and fixated on her mouth, where the movement of her lips had drawn him out of whatever internal debate he’d been sifting through.

“You lied and said you didn’t recognize us.” She kept her voice so quiet that he wouldn’t have heard her if they weren’t so close. But something, something, made her draw even closer, inch herself forward until the arm she held in her grasp was flush against her body. Touching despite the danger of it all. Like a moth to a flame.

“You kept her out of my head.” Her lips were the only thing moving between them. He didn’t even seem to be breathing. He didn’t deny it. And it didn’t matter, Hermione had watched it. Had watched and been in denial since.

“You saved us.”

“Hardly.” He refuted in an equally hushed tone, gaze never wavering.

Her lips felt dry under his scrutiny. She pulled her lower lip in, wetting it with her tongue, letting it scrape between her teeth back into place. She watched as his expressive eyes turned what could only be described as predatory. She wasn’t paying attention to anything but the incredible shifts in those fascinating steel depths; didn’t notice his movement until she felt his thumb rest on the swell of her lower lip, pulling it down slightly. She felt the coolness of the pad of his thumb on the damp skin, felt him drag it so that the tip of that thumb just barely grazed the inner wetness of her lip, almost as if he were considering dipping it into her mouth entirely and was fighting not to, resisting.

He let his arm fall away, back to his side. “Don’t apologize to me, Granger.” His voice was rough, held back. “I owe you a thousand apologies.”

#dramione fanfiction #dramione #dramione fanfic #harry potter fanart #draco x hermione #dramione fanart #hp artwork #dhr fanart #hp art #draco malfoy #incendiosketches #draco and hermione

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bratshaws · 2 years

Text

goodness gracious 57. brb x oc

a/n: :)! this chapter was sweet and i winged a lot of things in it!! yaaaay

check out the fic's playlist made by the sweet @wiipes !!

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: fluff, FLUFF, Shells is a warning on herself already

chapters:

1/2/3/4/5/6/7/8/9/10/11/12/13/14/15/16/17/18/19/20/21/22/23/24/25/26/27/28/29/30/31/32/33/34/35/36/37/38/39/40/41/42/43/44

45/46/47/48/49/50/51/52/53/54/55/56

(pls let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!!)

taglist: @mirandastuckinthe80s @roosterschanelslut @wiipes @lcahwriter @shrimping-for-all @gretagerwigsmuse @frenchtoastix

@lizzie-rdj @fanboyluvr @atarmychick007 @comebacktoearthpls

@peachiicherries @mak-32 @lizziespidiepridie @roosterswifey @ollyoxenfrees @piceous21 @sqrlgrl22 @hofficoffi @lexhalstead3

@lorilane33 @legendarydreamersharkparty @luckyladycreator2 @emilybradshaw @j-6o @louisahale @leobabbyyy @kulicny @winter-run @ktjmac @graciereads

Beatrice sighed in her sleep, nudging herself closer to the firm warm body behind her, holding her by the waist, the tickling of a mustache against the back of her neck as Bradley sleeps just as soundly. His girlfriend blinks her eyes open after a few seconds, sighing once more as her blurred vision sharpens to see her bedroom’s walls greeting her and her phone screen lighting up with a message.

She yawns, pushing herself to her elbows much to Bradley’s disdain because that means his lips would no longer be on her skin, picking up the phone to check who it was. She had two messages, one was from her mother who asked if they want her to bring them lunch since they aren’t going to spend Christmas morning there - Bea had to ask Rooster, since they had a lot of food from Christmas’ Eve - and several from Shells who sounded like she was hyperventilating through text.

She was still waking up as she read the messages, supporting her head on a hand while thumbing down everything her friend wrote.

Shells (08:03)

FIRST MERRY CHRISTMAS BABES AND ALL THAT SECOND

Shells (08:03)

EVELYN AND HANGMAN SPENT CHRISTMAS TOGETHER THIS IS NOT A DRILL NOT A DRILL!!! NOT A DRILL!!

Shells (08:06)

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA BEA I NEED YOU TO RESPOND BECAUSE IM ABOUT TO FUCKING LOSE IT!!!

Shells (08:18)

BEATRICE SCHIAVONI YOU BETTER GET ROOSTER’S DICK OUT OF YOU AND ANSWER ME OR ELSE I SWEAR TO CHRIST! PICK UP THIS PHONE RIGHT NOW!!

Bea’s cheeks reddened at her friend’s last message, already waking up faster than before to reread her messages with a soft gasp leaving her lips, “Brad,” she whispers, rolling to face him with her phone still up. Her boyfriend groans, rubbing a hand over his face and blinking his eyes open, pupils enlarging and constricting as he takes in his surroundings, ‘Evelyn and Jake spent Christmas together.”

“Mmm…what?” is what his voice, thick with sleep and hoarse from disuse, asks. His eyes dropping down her bare upper body that the sheets were no longer covering and the trail of hickies he left on her neck and breast.

“Evelyn and Jake spent Christmas together,” Bea types something in her phone, with a little smile on her face, “Shells just told me.” she finally replied to the blonde who, after a few more keymashing, finally sent a picture from Evelyn’s Instagram which was of her and Jake sitting together on a futon with his hand on her thigh and hers on top of his, talking to someone out of view.

Rooster moans again, still trying to understand what Beatrice was talking about, supporting his head on a hand as his elbow digs on the pillow, furrowing his eyebrows sleepily, “He’s where with who?” Beatrice laughs, turning the screen towards him after lowering the luminosity so it wouldn’t hurt his eyes. “...oh.” he’s more alert now, adjusting himself to have a better look, “No way.”

“I know! I told you they could have something together!”

“..well, I’ll be damned.” he chuckles, falling back on the bed to run his fingers through his messy hair, then sliding them behind his nape, “Good for them, maybe Evelyn can reign back some of the shit Jake does.” he was happy though, as much as Jake annoyed him they were good friends and he seemed to really like Evelyn…not to mention the pestering everyone would give him was going to be hilarious.

Beatrice’s smile, a genuine happy smile from seeing her own friend having a relationship warmed his heart. She was so sweet and she cared about others so much. Bradley smiles, picking the phone from her hands to set it aside, “Brad-” he rolls on top of her, successfully pinning her down under him to kiss her lips, loving that she started laughing against his mouth.

“Why are you so fucking cute?” he questions as he pulls his head back to kiss her jawline, feeling her legs part and so he could press his crotch against hers, “It should be illegal how cute you are all the time,” he murmurs against the side of her neck, “And sexy too.”

She just smiles, combing her fingers through his hair before he pressed their foreheads together, his cheeks flushed and a sweet smile on his face as they keep the eye contact, “Hi, good morning. Merry Christmas.”

“It’s a great morning and Merry Christmas, baby.” he murmurs, pecking the tip of her nose, “How did you sleep?”

“Pretty great, and you?”

He chuckles breathily, arching his eyebrows, “Well, I slept like a rock because someone fucked everything out of me.” he said it just so her cheeks turned red, which they did, with her smile turning shy and her gaze avoiding his, “I slept great too, gorgeous.” he rolls off of her after a few seconds, dropping next to her on the bed and surprised that nothing occured, apparently his body was still healing from last night’s activities. He watches his girlfriend then stand to her feet, dropping his brown eyes to her bare lower body and the bite mark on her butt cheek as she looks around for her panties, pulling it up her waist before she picks her sleeping shirt.

Realization hits her face when she remembers that most of his clothes were downstairs, “Oh.” she gives him an apologetic look, “I’m sorry,I’m going to get your underwear. I should’ve grabbed before falling asleep.” he says nothing, still grinning at her worried façade as she rushes downstairs, the sound of clothing being picked up followed by her quiet muttering drew a chuckle out of him, “Got it!” she hands him his black briefs as his top and pants are folded up in her arms, “Do you want me to wash these?”

“Nah, babe. It’s fine.” he says, kicking off the sheets so he could cover himself, arching one eyebrow when he takes notice of her still standing there, watching him “Ahem.” Beatrice blinks in surprise, gives him a nervous smile and a red face as she puts his clothes - folded - on her desk chair. He chooses to put on his sweatpants, the ones he already left at her house for everytime he sleeps over, instead of his shirt because he doesn’t feel as cold as last night.

Beatrice puts on her sleeping pants herself, muttering she’s ‘really cold’ before letting him know she’ll make them breakfast. He follows her downstairs slowly, inhaling her sweet lavender scent with his hands in his sweatpants’ pockets, eyes playfully squinted at his girlfriend who was busy deciding what they could have, “So…” he begins, crossing his arms as he leans his shoulder on the kitchen’s threshold, “I think it’s a good time to ask you some things huh?” Beatrice tilts her head towards him as she grabs something from her fridge, “Like…I don’t know, that you do pole dancing?”

“Oh.” she laughs sheepishly, pouring water inside her coffee maker, “Well…it all started because of Shells, she got me hooked and, you know, it’s really fun.” she says with a shrug, plugging the cord to heat the water up, “I love it.”

Bradley smirks, “Oh, baby, so do I.” His intonation was clear and the way he dropped his gaze down the length of her body was even louder and his voice itself, “I’m just wondering how the hell you kept that from me for so long.” he follows her with his eyes, stepping forward to grab their mugs before she could, kissing her cheek as he steps in between Beatrice and the cabinets.

“It wasn’t easy.” she confesses, thanking him when he hands her Ponyo mug and keeps the Susuwatari one to himself, chest warming at how he took that one as his actual mug every time he came by and hadn’t even watched the movie yet, “I really felt that there were times you end up figuring it out.” Beatrice opens the fridge again, pursing her lips with her brows furrowed, “Oh my god, my mom gave us brioches too, I just noticed. Looks like we’re going to have that for breakfast.”

“I don’t mind.” he shrugs, but he goes right back to the conversation, “I mean you did a really good job, baby. I had no idea, I mean I just noticed you seemed…more flexible.” his girlfriend’s cheeks turned bright red but he continued, “And your thighs felt a lot firmer, but I didn’t think it was because you knew pole dancing…and that’s a very sexy, sexy thought to have now that I know.” he says, “Maybe I can get you a pole when we move in together, give you your own little room that you can train…and I can watch.”

If her cheeks were hot before now they were close to melting. They haven’t talked about the subject of moving together for a while now, she didn’t want to push him on that if he didn’t feel ready. He could change his mind right? But part of her was really happy he brought it up, “Oh, I almost forgot.” He cut her off, setting the mug down to walk to her Christmas tree. They decided to keep some of the presents there, at least two of each , just so they could have their own little celebration together. Bradley picks up his gifts and then grabs the ones she got for him, deciding that he could do a one way trip and he wanted to open them if she was alright with it.

Beatrice smiles when he returns, setting the gifts on the kitchen table before he gives one of them to her, “Here,” he says, “I think you’ll like it.” his girlfriend blushed again but slowly and carefully opened the paper, she was a complete opposite of him who often lost patience opening gifts. He only managed to act like an adult last night at her parents’ house because he didn’t want them to get weirded out. Beatrice sets the wrapping aside, holding up the two shirts for her eyes to see.

He bit his lower lip with a smile when Beatrice gasped, looking at each shirt then at him with her eyes shining, “You got us couple shirts?? And they aren’t misogynistic or weird?? And they have little avocados on them??” her voice got higher as she spoke, her free hand coming up to cover her mouth “It’s so cute Roos!” her voice was shaky and he was honestly surprised how touched she was by just a pair of shirts - boy he couldn’t wait until she hears about his second gift - but he was reminded that her past relationship wasn’t great and that Eric was an asshole who refused to acknowledge they were together in any way or form.

And watching Beatrice hug the shirts to her chest, smiling like that, was so worth it. “I love it.” she murmurs, looking at him with her eyes shining and sniffling quietly to herself, stepping closer to kiss his lips, “Thank you, I really like them…but um, well,” she grabs a flat purple box and hands it over to him, “Open this one!” She then turns her focus back to the coffee maker after she places the folded tops on the chair, but peeks at him to check his reaction.

He rips the paper open, the contents inside making him widen his eyes, “Wait.” he stops even breathing, looking from her gift to Beatrice then back again, “Baby…is this?” Jerry Lee Lewis’ autographed Great Balls of Fire vinyl? Yes, it absolutely was, “How did you…how did you even get this??” he was speechless, it was the vinyl in a glass case with bronze framing surrounding it.

“It wasn’t easy, but…my aunt helped me. She got some contacts and called them and,well,” she shrugs, “There it is.”

And he noticed that there wasn’t only his name on it, there was his father and his mother’s on it too, ‘To Nicholas, Carole and Bradley Bradshaw’ it said. He was glad he was sitting down because he had no idea if he would even be able to keep himself upright. He looks back at Beatrice who was now wringing her hands together in worry, probably fearing she did something wrong, maybe stepped over the line because she got his parents names in there too, “Come here.” he says, placing the frame aside “Come here, come here.” he repeats the word almost reverently, opening his arms to wrap around her waist when she got closer. He pressed his face to her stomach, inhaling the fabric softener and lavender perfume embedded on her shirt as his eyes closed.

“You okay?” he nods with his forehead still pressed against her shirt, her hands gently running through his sandy waves that would always get wavier whenever he wakes up. He did not know how to respond, she was too much, too precious, too sweet, she was so lovely and kind to others and himself and she goes out of her fucking way to get him something that’s not only amazing but meaningful. She asked for his parents’ names to be written there, she knew from his mouth how much that song meant to them and she did that for him.

He lifts his head enough to prop his chin on the soft flesh of her stomach, hands on her wide hips and fingers partially touching her butt, “You.” he begins with a disbelieved voice, “You are incredible. I don’t know how you do it, I have no idea how the hell you manage half the things you do but you make me fall in love with you every single time.” her cheeks turn red like apples as she gives him a shy smile, “Thank you. Thank you for giving me that.” she rubs her thumb underneath his eye, he hadn’t even noticed a tear dribbled out and was rolling down his cheekbone before she touched him.

“You are welcome, you can open the other one too.” she whispers, ‘If you want. I still have to finish coffee.” oh,right he had another one. Reluctantly he let her go, but not before bringing her down to a quick kiss before she stepped away. He carefully places the vinyl inside the box it came with, giving it one last look of fondness before the lid covers it from view, then turns to the other box. This one was smaller than the vinyl, heavier too, he ripped the pine cones patterned paper open just enough to expose half of the gift.

Italia Scoperta: a Guide to Italian Culture, Cuisine and Places. He mentioned to her once he’d like to know more about Italy and while Bea was always as explanatory as she could be, she didn’t know everything. So when she saw that book she decided to get it for him, maybe one day he’d like to visit Italy with her! He opened the large book, he really liked the smell of new books a whole lot, and flipped through the pages getting a glimpse of what each chapter was talking about. It was a thick book, filled with information he knew it’d help him a lot in the future. “This is incredible, thanks babe.”

“You are welcome.” she says while pouring them both coffee and handing his mug over to him, grabbing the book from his hand so it’d be at a safe distance from the hot beverage and the brioches her mother somehow shoved inside the containers without her knowing alongside the vinyl and the shirts, deciding that placing them on her couch for now would be enough. She comes back and barely has time to pull her own chair before Bradley tugs her to his lap, pressing a series of sweet kisses on her jawline, smiling when she laughs in surprise.

“Mm…I love you.” he says softly, “A whole lot.”

“I love you too.” she grins,cupping his cheeks to tilt his head up and kiss his lips, humming happily when Rooster playfully bit her lower lip, “We need to eat, Brad, remember?” He pouts a little bit but does agree with her, watching with curious eyes as she grabs a brioche and cuts it in half, spreading a nice amount of butter and a dollop of strawberry jam on top…that her mother also snuck in. She wondered if her mother thought Bradley and herself were starving considering the amount of food she forced them to take back. Which knowing her, wouldn’t be surprising.

“That looks good.” he comments, watching her take a bite before she offers it to him. He never had butter and jam together, but it looked too good to ignore so he takes a bite when the brioche is close enough. It does taste…different, but it’s not bad, salty and sweet and the bread is so fluffy too?

“I haven’t had this in years;” she says after swallowing, “My nonna used to make her jams from scratch, my mom used to as well but, it’s a very long process.” he nods, still savoring his own bite as Beatrice lifts her mug to her lips to take a sip. Between them drinking coffee and sharing the baked treat, neither of them talked too much, which to him was fine, he didn’t really mind.

By the time they were sipping the last drops of coffee, he remembered he had something to ask her, “Baby,” he began, propping his chin on her shoulder after setting the mug down, “I have a question for you.” Beatrice’s attention was on him, her lips curling into a smile, “January 6th is my mom’s birthday and I always try to visit her when I’m able to…and well, I am now and I wanted to know if you want to go with me? You can take Jolene with you.” Beatrice’s smile falters almost invisibly and she adjusts herself on his lap to face him better.

“Brad…are you sure? I mean I…” she was flushing so much and her eyes were shining, she even put her mug down because she needed to wring her hands together, “I…If you want to, I mean I wouldn’t mind it. But, isn’t that…a personal thing to you? Wouldn’t I intrude?”

Bradley smiles more, pressing a kiss to the base of her neck, “You’d never, gorgeous. I’d want you to be there, I’d want her to meet you.” he says sweetly, tucking a fallen strand of brown behind her ear, “And you’d see snow too, isn’t that fun?” her sweet face soured just a bit, making him laugh “I know you hate the cold, but you’ll love it there, I promise.” he knew she was happy, even at the notion of snow and below temperatures,she was happy he asked her. He could see it in those big green eyes of hers.

“Well, okay…but where are we going to stay?”

“Actually…about that…have you ever been to a cabin?” he asks, smiling more at her surprised look, “I found one that accepts dogs and is perfect for a weekend getaway too. We’d leave soon after I get out of work on Friday and visit my mom on Saturday morning then we come back on Sunday afternoon. It sounds like a short time to enjoy everything, but I swear it’ll be worth it.”

Beatrice blinks at him, still in shock, repeating the words ‘a cabin’ under her breath, “I’ve never been to a cabin before, I’ve always wanted to.” Of course she would, he thinks, being the fae that she is, she'd love it a lot. He smiles, leaning closer to kiss her lips in thanks, dropping his face on the curve of her neck where he inhaled the lavender scent. He tells her that the question was his other Christmas gift and she was more than happy to know that, her smile so wide it seemed to brighten her kitchen “I’d like anything you’d give me, Brad. I really would.”

Oh, his poor heart wouldn’t be able to take it.

He hums with his lips pursed into a smile, “Yeah? Anything?” he coos, hugging her closer to his chest so his mouth is hovering by her ear, “You are giving me ideas, pretty girl, a lot of them and I might want to try them on later, after breakfast settles.”

“...I can accept that.” she whispers, loving how one of his hands was drawing random symbols on her leg as she brings the mug back to her lips to finish her coffee.

They did work on those ideas, a couple times, until Beatrice’s mother showed up with lunch and Jolene. Thankfully they were both dressed and looked as normal as they would be, her mother being none the wiser while looking at them, “Mamma, this is so much food.” Beatrice says watching her mother drop more containers on her table as the pittie zoomed around the house and around Bradley, happy to get back to her place after spending a while away.

“Nonsense! This is nothing.” there were at least eight tupperweare containers on her table and her mother was grabbing more stuff from inside the thermal bag, her daughter watching with wide eyes and with a hand covering her mouth in surprise “Your father said this is too much as well but I don’t think so.” if her father said something it meant he definitely felt her mother was exaggerating, “There’s fresh arancini, roast, I also put some lasagna in there too, oh here are some cookies,” how many containers is she going to get out of that bag??? “And some chocolate panettone I know you like.”

“Thank you…mamma…this is…” she offers her mother an awkward smile “Going to probably feed the whole Naval base if I were to take it there.” She hears Bradley coughed laughter coming from outside the kitchen, but he hasn’t seen the amount of food she brought. When he does enter though, he does a double take at how many containers were just covering her kitchen table - that wasn’t that big - as if it was a game of Tetris. Beatrice gives him an exasperated look as her mother keeps on explaining what each thing was, even opening Beatrice’s fridge to check if they had eaten the feast from last night.

“Oh, do you need more cannoli?” she asks already grabbing her phone, “I can ask Guillermo to bring it–”

“No!” Beatrice grabs the hand holding the phone to prevent her mother from dialing, “No, no it’s fine mamma, it really is fine you don’t have to bother Gui because of that, really. It’s…it’s Christmas and he’s with his family!” she wondered if her mother could see the look of desperation in her eyes, hidden behind a smiling mask.

Claudia pauses, just looking at her daughter and then laughs “Oh you are so right.” she flaps her hand “I’m so silly, I just can’t ask Guillermo to bring it, you are right tesoro. Your mother is getting a bit cuckoo!” Claudia crosses her eyes briefly while still laughing, “But either way, if any of you feel hungry give me a call, okay? I love you tesoro,” she kisses Beatrice on the cheeks twice, then on her forehead before she turns to Bradley, cupping his face and making the tall pilot bend down enough so she could kiss his cheeks and forehead, “And you Bradley you need to put on some weight!” she taps his cheeks, ‘You are so skinny, you poor thing.”

He looked down at himself out of habit, skinny? He looks back at Beatrice with a confused stare when her mother walks around him towards the door, his girlfriend just shrugs before following her mother, her voice getting fainter and fainter until he hears a car driving away and the front door closing. Beatrice returns to the kitchen with her hands on her hips as she stares at all the tupperware containers on her kitchen table “...well, I better…figure out how to fit all these in my fridge.”

“That’s so much,” he says, ‘Is it always like that during Christmas?”

Bea laughs almost nervously, “Oh this is much worse than normal. She just wants to take care of us because as she said you are ah,” she air quotes, “Skinny. And she’s also the first one to say you gained weight, it’s a whole mess that I’d rather not get too into it.” She does greet Jolene properly since the pitbull was running around the house excitedly to actually stop and be petted by either of them.

Rooster lifted some of the containers’ lids to check what was inside, the smell was incredible and every single one of them was extremely packed. “Oh it smells great, looks like you won’t have to cook for a few weeks.” he jokes while giving her the container so she could put it inside her fridge.

“Weeks? These will last for months.” she laughs, shoving some stuff aside to make more space, “She always gives everyone too much food because she cooks too much food. It’s the way Italians show love, through food.” he couldn’t help but remember the first time she cooked for them, how happy she was that he was enjoying her food and honestly that made a huge smile form on his face because it was indirectly her own love confession to him without either of them knowing.

When they were done, really done, Beatrice sighed loudly pushing the fridge door closed with a gentle push, leaning back into his chest when he wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, “I don’t mind, you know I love good food.” he says against her cheek, “She’s just taking care of us.”

“She is.” Bea smiles, rubbing the back of his hands with her fingers, then tilting her head back to see his own upside down, “I don’t know where she saw skinny in you, you are anything but.” She still remembers the first time she saw him without his shirt. He was so massive and muscular she lost all the air inside her lungs and rushed inside the Hard Deck before anyone could question what happened.

“I don’t either, but if that means I’ll get even more delicious Italian food I’m not complaining.” he chuckles, pressing kisses to her cheek before he pulls back, holding her hand “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like I’m the fresh slab of meat at a butcher shop and you want a bite.”

Beatrice’s cheeks flush up immediately and she moves her gaze away, “I was just…looking.” his inquisitive ‘oh?’ only made her cheeks warm up even more, “I mean, you are very attractive Roos, you know that. It’s hard not to stare.``He looks so happy when she says it, like he’s literally his callsign after being preened, his chest stuffing out with pride.

“Then you know how I feel when I look at you.” it was his smooth reply, the same reply that made Beatrice’s blush drop from her cheeks to her neck in a full crimson sweep, “It’s hard not to stare at you. And you know I love staring at you.” she just ‘hmhm’s at him, taking him out of the kitchen while still holding his hand, Jolene was back at her favorite spot on the couch. “Hey, so, I was thinking…maybe we could start looking at some places.” Beatrice stops to turn her face in his direction, “You know, just to have in mind what we want so we can do it after the New Years. Not a lot of people will go house hunting after the holidays.” not because he was in a hurry to have her live with him, absolutely not, never.

“Oh, that’s a good idea actually. Maybe we can make a list of what we like in each house?” she was so smart, he thought with a smile, “And then make it a top five?”

“Sounds great to me.” he chuckles, already seeing her over excited self in their own place, gesturing to rooms and how to paint them and how to decorate them as well. He had a feeling this next year would be a great year for the two of them.

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