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prythianpages · 9 months ago

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A Man After Midnight | Eris x Reader

summary: though engaged to Sawyer Vanserra, you feel utterly and completely alone with only the company of autumn winds, blowing outside your window. that is, until, Eris shows up. Your man after midnight.

warnings: mentions of assault (reader gets touched against her will but nothing explicit or anything that goes beyond that), blood, bruises/abuse/bullying; reader having a panic attack

a/n: This originally was going to head a different direction but I decided to make it like a part three to this instead. You can also read this as a stand alone one-shot. I love ABBA and I knew I had to use this song. One of my favs but you'll find that I say that a lot. You can find the masterlist to my ABBA x ACOTAR series here.

Your eyes light up as you spot Sawyer stepping out from the High Lord’s study. Overridden with excitement, you eagerly fall into step with him, the sheer brightness of your presence outshining the dimly lit surroundings. You pay no mind to the fact that his other brothers, Hunter and Oliver, are not too far behind.

“Good morning, Sawyer! Will you walk with me?” you beam up at him with a smile. It's the kind of sight that would make many fall to their feet–that even Oliver wants to bask in the glow of.

But Sawyer? He doesn’t even spare you a glance, his dark brown eyes fixed ahead as he replies, his tone detached. “I’m doing that right now.”

You can hear his brothers snicker behind you–too close for your liking that it has you quickening your steps. “But I was hoping you’d walk with me in the gardens? Or maybe we can have lunch together? We are to be marri–”

“Our marriage is nothing but a business deal arranged by our fathers.” He cuts you in sharply and you find your resolve faltering.

“Love may not come from our marriage but perhaps, we can be friends?” You offer, hating the desperation that seeps into your tone, as you trail behind Sawyer.

Sawyer stops abruptly, causing you to crash into his chest and stumble backwards. You catch yourself, a hand rubbing at your forehead where you’re sure an imprint of the necklace he wears marks your reddening skin. Your betrothed looks down at you in a way no one has ever before. Ever since your father left, it appeared that so did Sawyer’s patience. It’s as if the male you met when you first arrived was a facade. Pure disgust simmers in his heated gaze and his nose wrinkles as he lets out a scoff, causing you to shrink back.

“Friends? I don’t want to be friends with you. I don’t want to be anything with you. You’re the bane of my existence.”

Tears sting at the corners of your eyes, and instinctively, you take another step back, as though the physical distance could somehow lessen the impact of his words. It doesn’t. Your lip trembles as a frown threatens to overtake your features.

“How can you mean that when you barely know me?” you ask, your voice a mere whisper but you know by the way his steps stop, that he catches every word. So you decide to remind him and add: “I didn’t ask for this either.”

Sawyer doesn’t bother to turn around or answer you, simply choosing to keep walking away. Hunter pushes past you aggressively, turning to smirk at your distraught expression as he catches up with Sawyer. It is Oliver who stops you from colliding into the wall. He wraps an arm around your shoulder, steadying you and pulling you close to him.

“Oh, sweet girl, you’re too pretty to cry.”

Oliver’s free hand reaches up to grip your chin, forcing your gaze to him. His lips form a slight pout that contrasts the mischief twinkling in his amber eyes. He leans to lick the single tear trickling down your cheek and you wince. You want to run but his grip on you is strong.

He then directs your attention forward, where Hunter has Sawyer in a similar hold. “Tell her,” Hunter says, gaze darkening with a thirst to torment. He flashes his teeth as his smirk widens. This is all a fun game to him. “Tell her why you don’t like her.”

Sawyer looks like he would rather die than answer Hunter’s demand. He glares at you as he struggles to free himself from his brother’s grasps but Hunter is much stronger. He realizes that he won’t be free until he says something. Finally, between clenched teeth, Sawyer answers. “She’s not my type.”

Hunter throws his head back in laughter, the sound echoing through the room with a dark and menacing resonance.

“What a shame,” Oliver says, his breath tickling your ear as his hand roams down the length of your neck. You swear your heart misses a beat when his hand stops right over the swell of your chest. His nails dig into your chest at your struggle to free yourself. “She’s exactly my type.”

Your entire body tenses at the unwanted touch, eyes widening when you feel heat prick at your skin. The smell of burnt fabric reaches your nose and a chill permeates, displacing the warmth as Oliver lifts his flaming hand from you. You rush to cross your arms over your chest, desperate to cover your exposed skin from Hunter’s and Oliver’s hungry gazes.

“Just look at her,” Oliver continues, pushing you forward so harshly it sends you to your knees. His chuckle makes goosebumps rise on your skin. “So pretty, so docile.”

As you blink away tears of humiliation, your eyes remain fixed on Sawyer, pleading almost. He’s determined to look anywhere but you. You curl your arms tighter around yourself and lower your gaze. You don’t want to give the other Vanserras the satisfaction of seeing you cry. You suspect it will only prompt them to torment you further.

“Then have at her. I don’t care.”

Sawyer’s words reach you with a devastating force like the last blow. They pierce through the core of your naive heart and you can’t help the tears that escape and spill onto the floor. Hunter peels his gaze away from you to roll his eyes at his younger brother, releasing him with a rough shove.

“You’re no fun, Sawyer,” he says with a disappointed sigh, his expectation for a different response lingering unfulfilled. Hunter then looks back at you, you can feel his heated gaze, and you curl in further into yourself. “But it looks like you are.”

“What is the meaning of this??”

Beron’s cold eyes take in the sight before him, gaze sweeping over your slumped form on the floor. It’s Hunter who moves to speak but at the lift of Beron’s finger, his mouth closes shut. Beron comes to the conclusion that he doesn’t care as there’s other pressing matters to attend to. Such as dealing with your father and ensuring he keeps his end of the agreement. He turns to his oldest, who stands at his side with a perfectly donned mask.

“You deal with whatever this is.”

“Yes, father,” Eris replies with no hesitation and Beron pats him on the shoulder–the same shoulder he left a bruise on the other night.

Eris bites back a wince. He waits until his father is away from sight to take in the situation before him. The torches lining up the halls flare. With a simmering intensity that could rival a raging inferno, Eris turns his attention to the brother closest to him. The searing authority of his gaze has Oliver raising his hands in a gesture of surrender and stepping away from you.

“We were just having a little fun, brother.”

“Fun?”

Eris releases a disbelieving exhale as he grasps onto Oliver’s shirt. He wants to burn his hand through his brother’s skin until he’s screaming and crying, the same way Oliver had intended to do with you. Because how dare he touch you, hurt you. It’s as if Oliver can hear the crackling roar of the fire burning within his older brother and his eyes widen in fear.

Under the weight of Hunter’s hawk eyes, Eris grudgingly settles on shoving Oliver further away from him. And you.

“If you want to have fun, go to a fucking brothel. This is our home.”

Oliver releases a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He doesn’t waste another second, happy to leave the hall before his brother can take back his mercy.

"And you," Eris seethes, his voice a low, rumbling growl as he turns to face Hunter next. Eris effortlessly surpasses him in both stature and might, looming over him like a formidable mountain casting its shadow. “Shouldn’t you be making haste to quell the riots in town? Or should I add that to your growing list of incapabilities?”

Hunter's fists clench at his sides, the dance of flames flickering along his skin, but in the presence of Eris, his fire pales in comparison. The fire raging within Eris burns brighter, stronger. A force that demands respect and obedience. Much like their father’s. Without uttering another word, he turns on his heel and leaves.

Stepping forward, Eris finally allows his gaze to fall on you and he feels a violent tug in his chest that threatens to weaken him. The desire to sink to his knees beside you and envelop your trembling form in his arms is an overpowering one, coursing through him like a forbidden current. Yet, the harsh reality holds him back. It’s too dangerous. He cannot act upon the fervent emotions that entwine his heart and it pains him, seeking to destroy him almost.

But he can’t just leave you there. Helpless. On the floor. So he masks his emotions–something he is well accustomed to–and dons a facade of annoyance. With a deft, almost dismissive motion, Eris removes his tailcoat, flinging it carelessly in your direction. The seconds stretch into a languid dance as your eyes, wide with surprise, meet his. You gratefully slip his coat over your smaller form, clutching it tightly to your chest.

There’s a bittersweet ache that lingers within Eris at the unexpected intake of breath you give.

A fleeting flicker of sweet agony passes through his eyes. It vanishes almost as quickly as it appeared, leaving you to wonder if it was a mere figment of your imagination.

"And lastly," Eris starts with a deep sigh, the once-fiery intensity in his eyes dimming as he regards his last remaining brother. The only brother left that harbored some redeemable qualities but now, Eris questioned it.

"Is this any way to treat your fiancé?"

A ripple courses through Sawyer's jawline. “Why do you care?”

"I don't." Eris retorts with a glare. He's skilled at weaving falsehoods, and though this one is way far out from the truth, it slides effortlessly off his tongue like all the other ones. He immediately senses the weight of your gaze pressing into the expense of his back.

"But I do care about the consequences if she runs away. You should too."

Though it pains him, he doesn’t turn back around to you. He looks at Sawyer once more in warning. Then, he begins to walk away, every step pulling him further from the one he yearns to be with. Your gaze, burning into him like a relentless brand the entire time.

Weeks Later..

Autumn winds blow harshly outside the window as you look around your room. They mirror the melancholy that lingers in your heart. Your room is big and spacious, seems fit for a princess, adorned with sculpted art and paintings. In one corner stands a massive wardrobe crafted from the richness of dark cherry wood filled to the brim with a variety of dresses that would make any lady of your status swoon. Beside it, there’s a lovely vanity with golden carvings that hosts an array of makeup and beauty products. On the opposite side, is a desk that matches your wardrobe. It bears the weight of books, letters from your father, threads, unfinished embroideries and your untouched dinner.

At a glance, it appears you have everything.

Yet, as you sit on the bed, a pitiful truth echoes louder than the winds outside. Your gaze meets a reflection in the full-length mirror positioned next to the desk, capturing the solemn expression that dances across your features. Dark, sad eyes stare back at you and the weight of isolation is evident in the downturned corners of your mouth. You miss your home. Your friends, your horse, your father, and gods do you miss your mother.

Upon your arrival, eager anticipation filled your heart as you looked forward to getting acquainted with your future husband. You knew not to expect love to come from it as you were mere strangers but you had hoped for a friend. The promise of a lifelong companion, a partner to share laughter and weave a tapestry of memories together, stirred excitement and nerves within you. It’s what your father and mother had shared. Your foolish heart had eagerly counted down the days, each one a step closer to a shared future.

But now? As the appointed days draw near, the once-cherished anticipation morphs into a heavy sense of dread, casting a haunting shadow over you. Your husband to be looks at you as if you’re the scum on his boots.

The High Lord, your future father in law, is cruel and terrifying. You avoid him at all costs. Your future mother in law, Lady Autumn, is often busy and away. She helps you plan your dreadful wedding during the times she isn’t busy but you find that she is quiet and reserved. There’s a lingering sadness always present in her amber eyes that you assume comes from all the sorrow and grief she’s had to endure. You’ve met one of her sons–Lucien, you remember– during your travels with your father and you used to wonder why he no longer resided in Autumn but not anymore. You can only imagine the horrors he’s had to endure that made him leave.

Hunter enjoys berating you every chance he can. There’s a darkness that burns in him and you can’t help but think about what would become of you if Sawyer was interested in you. One day, while walking through the garden you overheard from some gossiping servants that Hunter was once married. His wife died shortly after the marriage and rumor has it that the frightening Vanserra had something to do with her sudden disappearance. They wondered if the same fate would befall upon you. A thought you didn’t want to linger on as it was absolutely terrifying.

Then, there’s Oliver. Though kinder, only in comparison to Hunter and maybe even Sawyer, he is not to be trusted. He undresses you with his eyes in every glance and vulgarly welcomes you to his bed. You do your best to stay away from him because as lonely as you are, you’re nowhere near desperate for his company, and fear the day he’ll grow wary of your constant rejection.

You find yourself, however, desperate for another’s. Eris.

You haven’t seen him since that day Sawyer broke your heart, since he let Oliver make a spectacle out of you. Eris had been the only one you’d look forward to seeing during dinner and his noted absence was the reason why you stopped joining the Vanserra dinners yourself.

Days, even weeks have passed, and he hasn’t fulfilled the promise of returning your book, its absence on your nightstand a constant reminder. He hasn’t even asked for his coat back. It remains draped over your desk chair. He’s a rare sight to see when walking amongst the grounds of the Forest house, prompting a question to rise. Is he purposely avoiding you? The mere thought stirs an unexpected pain within you.

There’s no one here for you.

A little over a month into your lifetime stay at the Forest house and you already feel so alone. So utterly and completely alone.

Suddenly feeling suffocated, you rise from your bed and head toward your favorite area of your room–the window seat. Kneeling on the soft cushion, your fingers reach to open the window, eyes fluttering shut in anticipation. The Autumn winds continue to howl through the darkness of the night but their chill does not reach you. Your eyes open and you raise your hand. A surge of electricity courses through you as your hand meets an unseen force. A magical barrier.

Turning your head toward the door, your gaze dips to the bottom where shadows dance. You can make out the planted boots of an Autumn guard and hope deflates. Nothing can come in. Nothing can go out. Not only are you alone but you’re trapped.

A taste of what’s to come, of what’s to be of the rest of your miserable life. Lonely. Trapped. Locked away into oblivion. No breath you take is enough as you’re suffocated by the storm of emotions flooding through you. This place is your hell. Impending doom. You’re going to die here. Alone. There’s not a soul out there…

Water. You should drink some water. Tremors take over your body as you make your way toward your nightstand. Water spills onto the floor as you pour yourself a glass. You bring the water to your lips but your throat feels like it’s closing up. You glance at the pocket watch on your nightstand and notice it’s half past twelve.

There’s not a soul out there…

You extend your hand towards the watch—a cherished heirloom passed down from your mother. The gentle, rhythmic ticking of it has long been a source of solace and comfort for you. But it’s too late.

The hand clutching onto your glass of water shatters against the dark wood of your nightstand as you clutch the watch to your racing heart. You can only pray to the Cauldron, the Mother, to anyone as the room spins around you. But there’s no one to hear your prayer…

There’s a deep agony in your chest that tightens with every passing second, an inescapable loop of gloom that envelops your every thought and emotion. There’s not a soul out there. You can’t breathe. No one to hear your prayer…

“y/n.”

You catch the faint murmur of your name being called, yet a lingering doubt creeps in. You must be going mad because there’s no one here for you. Not a soul—

“y/n.”

And there it is again. Your name is being called. Louder, firmer this time. It’s real. The cruel clutches of your sorrow that held you captive begin to shatter like your glass from earlier. The sound of your name acts as a lifeline, pulling you from the depths of despair you inadvertently locked yourself into.

“That’s it. Breathe with me, angel,” the soothing voice persists, a gentle anchor for your drifting thoughts. And you can finally hear it. Your beloved watch. Though it's fast, it becomes a comforting undercurrent, a familiar melody that helps steady your racing heartbeat.

You feel like you can finally breathe again. As you blink away the haze clouding your vision and come back down, you are met with a pair of familiar amber eyes. The warm hues flicker like flames as they fixate upon you. Intense but tender and full of concern.

“Eris.”

You breathe his name so heavenly, like an answered prayer as you take him in. His dark red hair is tousled as though he emerged hastily from a slumber. Adorned in a thin, un-tied linen shirt, the fine contours of his chest are revealed, and his pants, creased as if donned in urgency, complete the picture of a man who arrived in haste yet with purpose.

"You're here," you say, your tone teetering on the edge of question and you glance toward your door, confirming that the Autumn guard is still stationed there.

You called, he wants to reply but instead, settles on, “I’m here.”

“How?” You ask, aware of the wards in your room preventing winnowing. At first, you thought they were meant to protect you. Now, you’re aware they’re really meant to keep you from escaping.

The corners of his lips lift into a small smirk. “I have my ways. I know every secret tunnel, every little crevice of this estate.”

Your head turns, eyes scanning your room in search of said secret tunnel. Eris lightly grasps your chin, focusing your attention back to him to keep you from spotting the secret door hidden behind your full length mirror. He wipes at the lingering traces of tears on your face, watching as your eyes dip and fixate on the golden chain encircling his neck. A sigil of three hounds captures your attention—an emblem unfamiliar to your discerning gaze, sparking a curiosity that mingles with the relief flooding your senses.

He finds his own breathing to steady at your calming state but at the sight of blood trickling down your hand, a knot twists in his stomach. “You’re hurt.”

You pull your gaze from his necklace, eyebrows furrowing as you look up at him. “I thought you didn’t care,” you tell him, echoing his words from the last time you saw him.

Again, Eris does not answer you. His eyes scan your room for a moment before abandoning whatever he was searching for. In his haste to aid your bleeding hand, he’s slipping his shirt off without another thought.

“It’s fine,” you insist.

“No. It’s not.” He shakes his head at you as he guides you to the window nook. If only you knew the effect you had on him. The horror that crashed over him like a bucket of ice cold water, waking him so abruptly from his sleep. At your pain. Your agony. It nearly destroyed him the way it had been destroying you.

Eris pushes you gently to sit while he uses his shirt to wipe your blood off, frowning to himself when he can still hear the irregular beat of your heart. Too engrossed in cleaning your injury, he fails to catch on that the fluttering rhythm of your heart is now stirred by an entirely different source.

His expression transforms into one of genuine surprise as he encounters the gentle skin of your palm. Untouched, unmarked. His gaze flickers back to the shattered pieces of glass by the foot of your bed and then back to your hand. There’s no way. Not even with your healing abilities as a high fae. The amount of blood he had seen, the stinging he had felt through the bond–

“I told you it was fine.”

“But you’re not.” Eris counters and sucks in a sharp breath. “Angel–”

“Neither are you.” You point out, deftly redirecting the focus from yourself.

Your glistening eyes, pools of concern, flicker toward him. Toward his chest, where scars from injuries that had not healed properly and lingering bruises taint the muscles beneath, painting an alarming image.

Eris averts his gaze, withdrawing slightly, reluctant to confront the vulnerability of the moment. Though your touch is gentle, the softest caress, his entire body tenses at the unfamiliar sensation. Your palm presses against a nasty scar that runs down the length of his abdomen, making him shudder at the memory it came from.

You suspect the answer but you can’t stop yourself from asking anyway. A blend of hurt and anger seeps through your voice. “Who did this to you?”

Eris stands abruptly, caught in the tumult of conflicting desires–of longing to bask in the warmth of your touch and the simultaneous impulse to flee from it. “You should go to bed,” he says, voice strained. “Get some sleep.”

You stand up as well. “But I’m wide awake.”

“That’s not my problem.”

“Eris, please,” you nearly beg and he finds his feet rooted to the ground. He watches as you walk over to your chair, retrieving the coat he let you borrow. You extend it toward him–a silent promise you won’t push him further on his scars. “We can talk about other things.”

He feels his throat tighten at the urgency in your eyes. “Like what?”

"Like…" Your voice trails off, your attention turning to the scattered items on your desk. "Embroidery?" you suggest, showing him one of your unfinished projects. It’s an outline of a yellow flower he has seen before but cannot recognize at the moment.

"You want to talk about...embroidery?" His tone lightens, a subtle easing of tension as he slips into his coat and watches you raise another one. Unlike the first one you showed him, this one is finished and beautifully depicts a white horse with a brown mane and tail.

“This one is of my horse,” you share with pride, a subtle smile gracing your face. The warmth in your expression acts as an irresistible pull for Eris, compelling him to sit back down. "His name is Maximus.”

"I think I miss him the most," you add, the smile on your face faltering.

It prompts Eris to speak–to keep it from falling. “It’s beautiful.”

Your smile, like the sun breaking through clouds, brightens once more. You’re beautiful, he wants to add.

“Would you like me to teach you?”

Even though he knows he should leave, he finds himself nodding. Because the prospect of your smile faltering, of you returning to your state from earlier becomes an unbearable thought.

He secures a glamor in your room to keep the guard outside your door from hearing you. Having spent centuries studying the wards in every room, he’s learned how to unravel some pieces of them. Eris allows you to teach him the craft of embroidery. He tries to take in every instruction of yours and finds himself not lost in the craft but lost in the light in your eyes, the delightful curve of your smile as you speak.

As the daughter of a powerful and influential merchant, you’ve stayed in every court and have so many captivating stories to tell. You speak so highly of your father that he doesn’t have it in him to tell you about his dark truth–the real reason behind your arranged marriage. The delicate pricks of the thin needle against his fingers go unnoticed, drowned out by the melody of your laughter, which proves irresistibly contagious. The bond in his chest hums with a resonance that echoes through his being. He wonders, a smaller part of him fervently hoping, if you can feel it too.

Eris stays until your voice trails off–until the heaviness of your eyelids becomes an insurmountable burden, causing you to slump against the softness of the pillows. The temptation to tenderly brush your hair back from your face is strong, but he restrains the impulse.

“Eris?” Your voice, laced with the soft tendrils of sleep, reaches him.

“Yes?”

“Does this mean we’re friends now?”

The word—friends—sends a pang through him, but nevertheless, he manages a gentle "yes," reluctant to shatter the moment by uttering the truth that lies beneath the surface of his emotions. He doesn’t want to be your friend. He wants to be more than just your friend.

A soft content hum comes from you, the only response you can manage. Mindful not to disturb your peaceful slumber, he beckons one of the blankets from your bed with his magic before carefully draping it over your curled up form at the window nook. He quietly draws the curtains shut, shielding you from the intrusion of the rising sun. He positions the embroidery hoop, adorned with the laughable but endearing image of the heart he crafted, beside you. He turns to leave but sneaks one last glance at you. Only then does he allow himself to truly smile.

Eris does not return the following night, even though he desperately wants to. Caution dictates his actions, a week elapsing before a clandestine note passed in the hallway signals his quiet return to your room. It’s during this second visit that he inevitably gives away the hidden door in your room. They lead to the house’s secret tunnels, one only Eris knows well. He promises you to take you through them one day.

It’s half past twelve and as the autumn winds blow outside your window, you're not alone this time. Eris is there with you, weaving conversations that never seem to run dry. An unspoken agreement unfolds–to keep your growing friendship hidden and away from everyone. He continues to sneak into your room, always warning you beforehand as to not scare you. The sacrifice of sleep on these nights becomes inconsequential, for both you and him.

Eris helps you chase your shadows away, taking you through the darkness to the break of the day. Your man after midnight. The soul that heard your prayer.

A wrought-iron table, nestled under a cascading canopy of amber leaves, holds an exquisite spread of breakfast delicacies. The air is laced with the enticing aroma of freshly brewed tea, mingling with the sweet fragrance of the flowers that surround you. Lady Autumn, whose name you learned is Raelynn, sits across from you. Her eyes, as deep as the autumnal twilight, reflect warmth back at you–no traces of the lingering sadness you’ve witnessed before in this moment.

“My apologies, my dear, for not inviting you to breakfast sooner.” Even her voice is as warm as her gaze. “I know this court is not an easy one to adjust to.”

You find yourself smiling in reassurance back at her. Because you understand. If you were her, you’d also be wary of any newcomer.

“Eris tells me you enjoy embroidery?” Lady Raelynn says, a knowing smile playing on her lips as she brings her cup to her mouth. “Among other things.”

“I do,” you answer politely, gaze drifting to the perfectly tended lawn across from the patio you sit at. Targets for archery are neatly arranged. There’s an arrow embedded into the bull’s eyes of every one of them.

Lady Raelynn follows your gaze. “Are you interested in archery?”

Yes, you want to say and though you find comfort in Lady Autumn’s presence, you're wary of her reaction. What if she deems it unlady like? And decides to forgo any relationship you’ve desperately clung to the hope to?

“I don’t know much about it,” you reply, choosing a diplomatic response.

“I can teach you.” Lady Raelynn’s smile morphs into a grin. A gasp escapes you, and realization slowly etches itself into your features. “I think we’ll get along just fine,” she laughs, her words sparking hope within you.

“Good morning mother, I’ve come to–” Both of your heads turn to find Eris. He halts mid-sentence, his gaze locking with yours, a flicker of surprise and something deeper dancing in his eyes. It has you averting your gaze with a slight warmth tinting your cheeks. “I should leave.”

“No, stay,” Lady Raelynn insists with a graceful incline of her head. With a wave of her hand, a plate full of food materializes at the empty spot between you and her, a silent invitation for Eris to join.

Eris bows his head at his mother, acknowledging her command. He takes his place at the table, his movements a bit awkward at first. As he settles in, he can't help the warming relief that washes over him at the sight of both you and his mother taking his advice. He remains relatively quiet throughout breakfast, choosing to chime in only when necessary. He’s content to bask in the soothing cadence of your conversation with his mother, indulging in stolen glances at you that linger.

Something that does not go unnoticed by his keen mother nor the way his grip tightens around his fork at the mention of your upcoming wedding.

Lady Raelynn didn’t mean to spoil the mood but she had taken it upon herself to help you plan the ceremony and reception. Albeit, reluctantly at first. That all changed after getting to know you better. Although the marriage would not be to the man of your dreams, she was now determined in ensuring that the wedding would be. It was the least she could do for you, especially after learning about the mistreatment you had endured at the hands of her sons.

“I hope my son is treating you well?” Lady Raelynn asks you, carrying a note of concern. Her observant eyes catch the brief exchange between you and Eris, not missing the slightest tint that graces his cheeks. At least one of them is. She suppresses a smile as she awaits your answer.

“Sawyer is…” your voice trails off hesitant because he’s barely spoken to you since the incident. One of the rare occurrences being where he randomly met you in the library. He had reluctantly engaged in conversation with you, awkwardly asking what you missed the most from home. A spark of optimism brightens your tone because for once, you do have something good to say about him.

“He is actually arranging for my horse to come here! It’s silly but my horse was my biggest companion back home and I’ve been feeling a bit homesick recently.”

“It’s not silly at all, my dear. Once your horse is here, let's arrange for a morning ride. The Autumn grounds are the most peaceful in the early hours."

Your smile reflects the gratitude in your heart as you look at Lady Autumn. She, in turn, observes her son, who raises his tea to his lips, attempting to conceal the small smile playing on his face. It does nothing to mask the gleam in his eyes. Lady Raelynn is well aware that the sweet gesture is not Sawyer's doing. It's Eris's.

a/n: sooo I'm literally just going with vibes for this series (vibes to songs as that is what inspires most of these.) I wanted to write a slow burn but tbh, I think I'm too impatient for that 😂

When it comes to Sawyer, I do want to explore more of his character. I know that in canon, the Vanserras are menaces but I'd like to hope there's at least one more redeeming brother. I feel like him and reader can fall into a relationship similar to that of Rhaenyra and Laenor from House of Dragon. I also am still stuck between having the marriage actually go through or something drastic that happens that keeps it from happening. Either way, it will be angsty. I left some references in this from a movie that may prompt for more references from said movie. Any guesses? 👀

tagging: @fxckmiup

#eris x reader #eris x y/n #eris x you #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra x you #acotar x reader #acotar imagine #eris imagine #eris one shot #acotar x y/n #acotar fanfiction #acotar one shot #acotar!abba #eris vandaddy #eris angel au

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 months ago

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Killing Time: Prologue

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, includes violence, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: a job offer could be an escape from your old life, but the new one, may not hold freedom.

Characters: Kraven the Hunter, August Walker, Lloyd Hansen, James Conrad, God the Bounty Hunter, Court Gentry

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

“Yes, he’s here again,” your voice creaks as your hand shakes. “Please. I called yesterday…” And every other day for months. Almost a full year.

You peer out between the small space that divides curtain from window. The shadow looms, looking up at you. Your phone vibrates as the operator hems and haws on the other end.

“Are you sure it’s him?” She asks. They always doubt you. Report after report, phone call after phone call, and it’s always question, question, question. You sigh.

“Yes,” your voice peeks as you pull back and hide against the wall. “Yes, I know it’s him. He’s texting me.”

You don’t even need to check. It’s the same thing every time. Next, he’ll try to sneak in the front and be knocking at your apartment door.

“Well, ma’am, you say you’ve called before and we’ve sent a cruiser and we’ve filed reports. And this man keeps showing up, so what exactly do you want me to do now? I can’t issue you a safety order over the phone--”

“Excuse me?” You gasp. “Excuse me? Are you serious? I have an order already and much good it does me. I call you and I get accused of being dramatic and questioned. What I want is for someone to protect me.”

“Ma’am, don’t get abusive with me,” she warns. “Have you tried telling him to go away yourself?”

“Wow, wow,” you throw your hand out. “Really? Really? No, I never thought of it,” you say sarcastically, “is there someone else who can take me call? I really don’t feel safe.”

“If it makes you feel better, I can reroute an officer to you. Alright?” She speaks as if you’re a child. You’re too weak to argue anymore.

“Whatever,” you hang up.

You can’t do this anymore. You need to get out of here. Not that you didn’t think of it before but you can’t afford anything else. Your rent control is the only thing keeping you under a roof. You’ve already switched jobs, just to get away from him. There isn’t that much else up there.

You drag yourself through the shadows and sit on the bed. You exist in darkness. You don’t turn on the lights so he can’t see in. You keep the curtains shut. You only leave for work and always take a different exit, never the same route; not always the bus, not always the train.

And friends? What are those? Most of them took his side, said you were throwing around false accusations, and the others accused you of being obsessed. The single coworker you confided in told you to leave town. Wow, well, if you could afford that, you wouldn’t stay in this building with the grinding radiator and rattling fridge.

You look at your phone.

‘I see you.’ The message was sent while you were on the call with emergency services. Several more followed. ‘I just want to talk’; ‘you look so pretty’; ‘please, I love you’.

As you read each text, you can hear the last conversation you had with Jake. He’s a relic of your former friend group, the very reason for your dejection. It’s almost funny how the rest just cut ties but he won’t let go.

It all started with a kiss. A kiss and rejection. New Years Eve and the clock counted down. You didn’t expect him to turn and plant one on you and when you shoved him away, that dreamy look in his eyes turned to fury as you fled. New Year, New you, right?

The new you is scared and paranoid and tired. So, so tired.

You get up and move the chair in front of the door. Just in case. You retreat, keeping your phone close, and grab the extendable baton from the table. You sleep with both, if you can sleep. That night, you won’t.

You settle in on the couch. You don’t use the bedroom. You need an easy escape. You sit back against the cushions and scroll on your phone. It might be hopeless, but you trawl the job board and the apartment boards. You might find a nugget of gold in all the pebbles.

You sign into the job site and see the red dot in the corner. It’s always a marketing promo. ‘Recommending’ a job you don’t qualify for or an invitation for an MLM scheme. It’s a joke. You don’t understand how anyone ever gets a job but everyone seems to have a better one than you.

You tap the inbox to make the red dot go away. You hate it floating in the corner of your vision. Your thumb twitches and hovers over the screen as you read the subject line. Hm.

‘Caretaker Position: Relocation Required’.

Well, you don’t really have the experience for caretaking but the second part sounds intriguing. You hesitate. It’s too good to be true. You’re sure there will be a list of qualifications longer than your resume.

Tap.

You open up the message.

‘Hello,

We’ve reviewed your profile and determined you might be a match for this position.

New Applicants Welcome.

We are seeking an individual to undertake caretaking duties for a property. This role would include the following:

Lawn care

General cleaning and maintenance

Manual labour requiring lifting of up to 60lbs

24/7 tenancy within property (no rent for chosen candidate)

Subsidized relocation

Training on-site

If you are seeking a fresh start and to learn new skills which can take you into future roles in a custodial or caretaking capacity, this is the job for you. To apply, please submit brief profile and resume for consideration.

Applicants are subject to a background check.’

You bite down on the inside of your lip. It sounds interesting but you’re not sure you’re a good fit. It’s so general, too. Would you need to know how to deal with electrical issues? Your apartment sure has taught you a lot about dealing with broken utilities, but your formal training is lacking.

And it’s a big thing. You want to get out of here but it’s still daunting in comparison to your current predicament.

You tense as you hear footsteps in the hall. You brace yourself and lower the phone, staring at the door. The thumping on the other side makes you flinch. Your heart races.

“Baby, I know you’re awake. Please. I just wanna talk.” He keeps tapping. “If you just talked to me, we could figure this out.”

You shudder and look at your phone again. You stare at the big blue button; ‘Apply Now’.

“I forgive you. For lying about me. Everyone knows you were just upset. I’ll tell them all it was just a misunderstanding…” he begs as the door shakes in the frame, the chair knocking against the handle. All that stands between you and him are those hinges and that flimsy piece of furniture.

You press down on the button. It can’t get worse than this.

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luffysinterlude · 4 months ago

Text

★ LATE NIGHT CONVERSATIONS. . .

summary: in which zoro convinces you to see yourself from his point of view.

warnings: named fem!reader/oc, reader has suicidal thoughts (not too explicit, yet not very subtle), cursing, zoro may be ooc, angst/comfort

word count: 2K+ // slightly edited

an (1): this fic started when i got drunk and wanted to read angst. i revised it so many times and i’m still somewhat unsatisfied (hence the rushed ending) but i really love this oc i created and hope i get to write about her more :3 been feeling a lil sad bc i turned 21 and i’m still somewhat stuck in my life and uuuugh. just need zoro so bad..anyway…I’ll probably do an oc introduction next :p

ZORO thinks you’re the prettiest person in existence. He wishes he could give you his eyes so you could see yourself from his point of view. He watches you as you sit next to Robin: a blanket wrapped around your body, your head leaning on her shoulder as you listen to the conversation she’s having with Franky.

Tonight, something’s different. You don’t have the usual gleam in your eye nor does your laugh echo throughout the Sunny. Instead, your eyes are red and swollen, and you’re quieter than usual — only speaking when you’re spoken to. Your eyes meet Zoro’s for a split second, and understanding flashes in his gaze as he realizes why you’ve been so distant.

You ignore the swordsman’s curious eye, trying to be more interested in the conversation Robin and Franky are having; something about poneglyphs, but you wouldn’t be too sure because your thoughts are louder than their voices, making it hard to focus.

Tonight, everything hits you at once: your past, the present, and the what-ifs. The future remains a distant concept, with its many possible outcomes holding you back.

You think these thoughts that cloud your brain are nothing but selfish. A burning desire of yours is to quietly slip away and let your soul be free from this body and place.

You love the Straw Hats, your captain, and your crewmates. You love the sea and exploring new islands. With every stop, you hope to learn something new to distract yourself from the small part of you that wishes you weren't alive.

But every now and then, it hits you. And you feel like you’re nothing but a waste of space.

Before you realize it, Zoro’s standing next to you, offering his hand. You know the blend of sympathy, disappointment, and sadness on his face. With a deep breath and a small smile to the rest of the crew, you accept it, allowing him to pull your body up and lead you down the corridor.

+x+

Roronoa Zoro, pirate hunter turned pirate, was someone you held close to your heart. He was your closest friend, your anchor in times of darkness, and your lover.

He took care of you, even in your absence; he told you that you look out for everyone else that you tend to forget to take care of yourself.

When the crew split up and you had decided to go to Whole Cake Island, Zoro made sure Franky had sent you off with two transponder snails so he could check in on you. He’s still unsure of what happened on the island of sweets, but after your reunion with the rest of the crew he’s noticed the light in your eye had become darker.

He leads you to his room, opening the door for you and placing his swords by the entrance. You take a seat on his bed, a change from your usual behavior of lying down. Your thoughts crowd your mind again as the atmosphere around you grows quieter.

You’re not doing enough. Luffy doesn’t need you, nor do the others; you believe you’re just extra weight they carry because you’re his sister.

“Wanna tell me what’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” You feel the mattress dip as Zoro occupies the space next to you, his body radiating warmth your way. He’s laying down, arms rested behind his head, eyes closed. You stare at the man next to you, taking in his form; despite the number of times he’s smiled in the face of death, scars and stitches scattering his body, you still think he’s the most handsome man on this earth.

“Just been…thinking,” you start. “About everything that’s happened up until now.”

Zoro hums to let you know that he’s listening, a cue for you to continue.

“Nobody on the crew knows this, not even Luffy, but I was there at Marineford.”

This makes Zoro’s eye shoot open, a look of surprise painting his face. As bad as it sounds, he isn’t too interested in learning about where the crew spent the last two years, he’s just glad they all made it back together alive. He knows that you spent time mastering your Haki with your childhood teacher, but that’s all you’ve let the crew know about.

“Grandpa snuck me in disguised as a marine — I promised I wouldn’t tell anyone if I was able to leave quietly. I wanted to see Ace one last time, and he granted me that because he owed me one for keeping an eye on Luffy when we were younger.

I was able to visit his holding cell, and the sight of him…it felt as if I was being punished. Ace was the one person who understood me and how I tend to feel, the one person I shared so much in common with. He was able to find bits and pieces of himself again thanks to the light that shines through Luffy, and when he left us I promised that I’d try and keep him safe despite the distance between us, and hopefully find myself through our crybaby brother as well.”

You’re smiling fondly at the distant memories of you and your brothers, ones that you wished were photographed so you could have physical proof of those events taking place; so even when you’re old and senile you’ll be able to remember them happening.

“Tell me more,” Zoro says. He eyes the spot next to him, and you position yourself to lay there. He allows you to remove his left arm from behind his head to use as a pillow. “Were you safe, at least?”

Of course not. You were infiltrating the World Government, and if you made a tiny mistake, you would’ve been right next to Ace on the execution platform.

“I was — you know I wouldn’t do anything impulsively, unlike some people.” You giggle, remembering the moment Luffy fell from the sky, in the middle of the battlefield. “I ended up being able to sneak away because of him. I found Trafalgar’s submarine and hopped on board and waited…and I can’t help but think that was my biggest mistake, leaving Luffy alone. It’s a heavy guilt that I’ve been carrying.”

Zoro ponders for a moment; it isn’t your weight to carry, he wants to say. Luffy went to Marineford on his own accord, and not every ending is a happy one. He’s also curious about how you were able to find the surgeon and his crew, but that’s something he’ll ask about another time.

“And when I felt Shanks’ presence nearby, I asked Law to take me to his ship — which he declined, of course — so I got off and swam there instead. The waters were surprisingly calm, so don’t panic, I’m sure Jinbe wouldn’t have let me get eaten up,” you confess to him, reassuring him that you were safe every step of the way.

You stare at the left side of his face, your arms wrapped around his body as if he was a teddy bear. The blanket you had previously wrapped around your body now covered parts of his, his arm cuddling you close as if you’d ever slip away.

“How’d it go with the redhead?” Zoro asks. His eyes are still closed but you know he’s interested in knowing; asking questions is somewhat his way of begging to know more. He isn’t as stoic as he thinks he is, at least not towards you.

“It was good seeing Shanks again. He was heading to Marineford to end the war, and allowed me to stay and hide with him until Luffy made the decision to reunite in two years. He’s actually the one who took me to my childhood teacher; it took about three weeks after burying Ace and Whitebeard to get there.”

Zoro’s curious about how you handled Ace’s burial, but again, that’s something he’ll ask about another time.

“They asked about us. It was different being the one to share experiences about life on the sea; but it was refreshing and fun…I told them all about the crazy stuff we went through, and they let me know about the reputation we’ve built for ourselves. It’s actually kind of cool how many people know of us, but also scary at the same time. It really opened my eyes though; it was probably the first time in a long time that I…” you trail off, repositioning your head to be more comfortable, the hand that lay on Zoro’s chest now tracing lines as you daze off. Sensing that he’s lost you, he opens his eye and nudges you lightly.

“I felt like I had a life purpose again. Gaining the knowledge that a lot of people had their eyes set on us as a team, it made me realize the responsibility I hold. The promises I made to both Ace and Sabo, the ones I made to you and the rest of us, and the promise I made to myself as a child — my ultimate dream: to live a long, fulfilled life.”

“Even though I felt great and motivated after that and even now, the thoughts still linger around. The what-ifs: what if I stayed and attempted to save Ace alongside Luffy? What if I got caught by the Marines? What if the five of you never found me in Loguetown?

It’s a never-ending battle, and I’m getting more tired of myself with every passing day. It’s the reason why even now I exhaust myself mentally and physically, just to escape my thoughts. I guess there must be something happening with the planets for me to experience these feelings right now,” your tone is light, almost playful, yet your words place a heavy weight on him.

You let out a sharp sigh, suddenly turning on your back and staring at the wooden ceiling. You release your Haki to see what the rest of the crew is up to, noticing that some of them have already gone to bed. The only other people awake at the moment are Luffy, Sanji, and Jinbe — sharing a late night snack and a hushed conversation.

“You’re stronger and more resilient than you think,” Zoro states. “As a matter of fact, you’re probably the strongest person I know, both physically and mentally.

You’ve faced nothing but obstacles your entire life, and it makes me wish I had known you when we were younger. You and Kuina would’ve been great friends.” The mention of your lover’s childhood friend makes you smile. He’s only ever confided in you about his upbringing, and you pray to the heavens, hoping that Kuina herself hears you ask for his protection. “I admire you so much.”

And it’s true: Zoro envies how strong you are. He wishes he had unlocked Haki at a young age. He wishes he was as smart as you. There are so many things Zoro admires about you, and he wishes he knew the words to voice it.

“I’m not great with words.” You giggle at his self-awareness but let the laughter die down as he rolls his eye playfully. “But you deserve to be here — alive — regardless of where you came from, what powers and knowledge you possess, and what happened when you were a child. I’ve watched you grow into the person you are today, and it’s been a privilege.

Sometimes, it feels as if I was a saint in my past life to experience this: the open ocean, the different people and places, and you. However you see yourself isn’t how anyone else views you. Chopper looks up to you as a guardian — and despite the small age difference, I’m sure our knucklehead captain does too. Nami, Robin, Usopp, and Franky see you as their sister. I’m sure I heard Jinbe speaking of you like a daughter, and as for the annoying waiter we call a cook, he practically worships the ground you walk on. The skeleton praised you constantly, so I’m not sure how you don’t see the admiration everyone has for you.

You’ve become one of my biggest inspirations. I’ll probably never be in the mood to admit this again, so make sure you’re listening.” He suddenly sits up and rests against the headboard, your movements copying his as he interlocks your hands with his.

He meets your gaze, and you feel like you fall in love with him all over again. He’s looking at you with pure adoration, as if he’s trying to engrave your face into his memory.

Even with tear stains running down your cheeks and puffy eyes, you’re still the prettiest person to exist. Everything about you is perfect, and a demon like me doesn’t even deserve to be in your presence, Zoro thinks.

“The time we spent apart, I took some time to think about our adventures as a crew. I’m not sure if I subconsciously did it because it was a strange feeling being away from you all, or if it was because Perona kept asking too many questions.

After explaining how the ten of us all became a crew, she pointed out that I mentioned you a lot. I didn’t think so at the time, but I guess it’s just something that feels natural to me. What I’m trying to say is…

“I love you. You know this already, but I know sometimes it feels nice to have a verbal reminder. I’m in love with you, and I know I’ll always be. And I’ll help you fight your battles, even when you ask me to give you space. I’ll do anything you want me to, just promise me you’ll let me be there for you. You — in such a short amount of time — have become my greatest weakness.

It hurts when you push yourself away from everyone else, especially me. I know you don’t want to feel like a burden, but you’ll never be one; to me, or the others. Especially to Luffy. Whether you decide to tell him you were there to see Ace, is up to you. I’m positive he won’t react the way you think he would. You’ve always taken on way more than what we ask of you, and applying more pressure to yourself isn’t going to make us look at you any differently. You’re appreciated for all that you do, and will always be.

The only thing I’m asking of you is to take the time and make sure you’re taking care of yourself. Physical battles already take a toll on all of us, and we can always help each other out, but the mental ones we face can only be taken on by ourselves. Even I find it hard to deal with it. But then I’m grounded by remembering the fact that I was put here on this Earth for a reason — everyone was.”

Your jaw is hung open at Zoro’s words; yes, he saves sweet talk for you and you only, but this was an entirely different and unexpected side of him.

You want to cry. You want to kiss him. You want to take all of his pain away and give it to the officials in the World Government. You want to cradle his face in your chest and kiss his cheeks and tell him sweet nothings; yet as you process his words, you sit there in silence.

I’m grounded by remembering the fact that I was put here on this Earth for a reason — everyone was.

Similar to the last words spoken to you by your beloved brother Ace, you feel tears slip out of your eyes and suddenly you’re trapping Zoro in your arms.

“Thank you, Zo.”

The whisper reaches him, and he relaxes comfortably in your embrace. He buries his head in the crook of your shoulder, his arms wrapped around your torso. Even though it took a lot of guts to be that vulnerable, his chest feels lighter. With a soft kiss pressed to the top of his head, you return the words back to him.

“I love you so much. Thank you for always being there for me. You’re truly one of my anchors in this life.”

+x+

You wake up the next morning alone in bed. It’s nothing out of the ordinary, except this time a note sits on Zoro’s nightstand.

Woke up to Nami banging on the door. Kind of surprised it didn’t wake you up either. Anyway, we’re docked now and Luffy dragged me out with him to explore. The stupid cook and Robin are still here on the ship, so I asked them to ring me when you wake up. If you decide to leave the ship, come find me. If not, then rest and I’ll come back to you later. Love you, Zoro.

You smile at the sloppy handwriting, your mind quickly flashing to last night’s conversation between the two of you. You sit and think about it and come to the conclusion that you no longer doubt yourself. You feel as light as a feather, hopping out of bed and changing into a new outfit for the day. You’re assuming your lover had taken it upon himself to change you, not remembering when you had put your sleeping clothes on.

You waltz into the kitchen, greeted with heart eyes and the smell of coffee.

“Good morning to you, Athena. We’ve been waiting for you to wake up, Sanji’s desperately wanting to go pick some things up. Are you feeling better now? Zoro said you were feeling under the weather this morning.” Robin’s gentle voice distracts you from worrying about the amount of blood spilling from Sanji’s nose, a soft smile on her face as you greet her back.

“Good morning! I feel much better now, like I can do anything.” You smile. Sanji’s serving you a plate of breakfast as you sit across from the archaeologist. You start to eat, trying to peek at the newspaper she’s holding in her hand. The headline makes you choke on your food.

“WHAT THE HELL? LUFFY’S AN EMPEROR NOW?!”

Your voice is loud enough that Sanji and Robin are sure the entire island could hear it. Before Sanji’s able to fill you in on what was discussed after you and Zoro went to bed, your shrieks were heard throughout the Sunny.

“WHAAAAAAT?! MY BOUNTY’S AT TEN DIGITS NOW?!”

“Well, you and Zoro missed a lot last night. We’re happy to know that you’re feeling better now though!” Robin says, a closed-eye smile sent your way.

You’re in a state of shock: reading the article that was released less than twenty four hours ago, and you hear Sanji’s tongue click.

“Maybe we should take Athena-swan to Chopper for medicine,” Eyes wide and jaw hung, you nod your head. “And probably look for the embarrassment you call your boyfriend.”

With that, you shove Sanji away from you, standing up quickly and taking hold of Robin’s hand. You grab your bag and walk off the ship with the two of them next to you, feeling thousands times better than last night.

Zoro, you say in your mind. Please don’t be lost. Eh — it’s been hours since they left. He’s definitely lost.

With a new sense of confidence and optimism, you hold your head high and continue your journey in making this a life worth living.

+x+

an (2): ahhhh yes!! athena (reader) is luffy’s sister…i have her while character outline already written. i kinda hate the ending but i also didn’t want to stay stuck on this lil story for too long…but i do want to write more abt our lovely athena and the life she’s willing to live <3

please do leave feedback! it helps me improve :) especially since i’m still learning & getting back into it!!

#luffysinterlude #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro x oc #roronoa zoro x oc #one piece x reader #one piece oc #one piece x y/n #zoro x you #zoro x y/n #one piece original character #one piece drabbles #one piece x you

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her-power · 4 months ago

Text

So Called Chaos (Part One: Modern single dad! e.m x fem reader)

❤️‍🩹🚨‼️18+ Minors DO NOT interact ‼️🚨❤️‍🩹

Trigger warnings/content warnings: Talk of suicide, talk of death, grief, hurt, comfort. Talk of PPD/PPA. Smut will come later, not explicit but sensual I guess? (warning now) strong language, angst, fluff.

Summary: This takes place in modern times. Eddie & reader are in early 30s. Eddie is raising his two year old son, Hunter, alone while coping with the death of his son’s mother who he had a complicated relationship with. He runs into an old friend at the bookstore (the reader) and memories of their time together as teenagers flood his brain to a point where he cannot stop thinking about her and the what if’s. This blossoms into a beautiful rekindled friendship and potentially something more.

Word Count: 5.1K

Thirty-four-year-old Eddie Munson hovers over the crib, his eyes bloodshot, he was so tired, but he always made sure to watch him fall asleep. His sweet son, Hunter. He was turning two years old tomorrow. Two whole years. Eddie couldn’t imagine him not existing, even if it didn’t start out the way he wanted to. Hunter’s mother had died six months after he was born; it was a subject Eddie didn’t talk about with many people. Not even his friends. Olivia was sick, she was tired, she thought the easiest way was to just disappear forever. He was angry at her, but he had loved her. In a way they only knew how to love one another.

Hunter was the best thing that ever happened to him. He reaches his hand over to his face, gently caressing the spot between his eyes, his brown curly hair lined his face perfectly. His lips puckered while he slept, and he would go into random laughing fits in his sleep. Eddie would tell him that it was grandma making him laugh from Heaven. He sighs, taking the video monitor and putting on the white noise machine.

He walks downstairs and plops himself onto the couch.

“You’re doing good, Eds.” The voice comes out of the shadows.

Oh yeah, he also talks to the dead mother of his child. It was worse after she died, then it went away for awhile. Now, it’s been a daily occurrence. He isn’t sure if it’s his way of coping with her death or if he’s actually talking to her, but he wasn’t in the mood.

“Go away.” He mutters.

Olivia’s form reaches his peripheral vision, but he doesn’t turn his head. He couldn’t. The last time he did she didn’t look normal, she looked very dead.

“I’m sorry.” She whispers.

“You keep saying that and I honestly don’t think you are.” He laughs, feeling tears form at the corners of his eyes, he sniffles them back. “It was your choice to leave us. Leave me alone.”

“I just want you to be happy, Eddie.” Her voice is fading.

“Who says I’m not happy?” He grumbles, glancing at the time on his phone. “Go say happy birthday to our son and then stay away.”

He doesn’t feel her presence in the room, and he’s almost relieved. Their relationship was complicated, even before she got pregnant. They were just friends with benefits, met at the hideout and it became a weekly thing. He loved her, but he wasn’t in love with her. She felt the same, but they tried to make it work when she got pregnant. He noticed a change in her after Hunter was born, she stopped going to her postpartum appointments, had denied that she was depressed. She was a wonderful mother, but she didn’t think she was good enough. She said so in her note, and it has taken him over a year to prevent himself from lighting it on fire.

He was grieving, he knew that. But he was grieving more so for Hunter not having a mother. Like himself. Robin has been a big help. She would show up unannounced, demand him to take a nap or shower and she would take care of Hunter. He didn’t say many words but when he would see her, he would say “Teetee”, Auntie was too hard for him right now. He sighs and texts Robin:

Been hearing her again.

His phone immediately rings and he groans, sliding it to answer. “You know I hate talking on the phone.”

“I don’t care. When did it start up again?” He hears the beeping from inside her car and her door shut.

“Robin, you don’t need to come here, I’m fine.” Eddie groans, falling back on the couch, his long hair falling out of its half bun.

“When did it start?”

“I don’t know, two weeks ago maybe.” He pinches the bridge of his nose as soon as hears Robin huff. Demanding in the sweetest way possible why he didn’t tell her sooner, and if he needs her to come over more. “Robin…Robin…slow it down. I’m fine. I promise.”

“Well, I’m still coming over.”

Eddie groans. “I was just gonna smoke a joint and go to bed.”

“Okay, smoke a joint, I’ll be there in five.”

She hangs up and Eddie sighs, running his fingers through his hair. He gets up from the couch, taking the video monitor with him and goes into the two-car garage. He turns the light of the garage on, his truck sat idle in one of the spaces and his Sweetheart, drum set, and musical equipment sat in the other spot.

He lucked out finding this house; it was a fixer upper, and they gave it to him 3,000 dollars below the asking price. He was able to finish the basement; he did it all himself, with the exceptional help of Robin, Steve and Dustin. It was a two-floor cape house; covered in wall-to-wall carpet. Ripping it up was easy, adding new flooring was not. Uncle Wayne had helped with the rest, and Eddie had settled for area rugs and the house came together beautifully. Hunter took his first steps in the hallway; he got his first bump on his head on the kitchen cabinet when he didn’t know how to slow down when he was “running”.

Eddie chuckles as he rolls the joint, at the time it wasn’t funny, because Hunter was screaming, and Eddie thought he had brain damage. He remembers Robin saying, “don’t react, don’t react…be calm”. And once he calmed down, Hunter calmed down and went about his business, finding his toy bus and playing with it in the living room.

He lights the joint, inhaling on it deeply and letting it out slowly of his mouth. He hears Robin’s car pull on the driveway and he carefully lifts up the garage door, her lights blinding him. He waves at her to shut them off and she flicks the high beams at him twice just to add some extra annoyance.

She giggles, coming out of the car, holding two plastic bags of snacks and drinks. He takes them from her, immediately opening the popcorn.

“You really didn’t have to come here.” He says, chewing on the popcorn and then inhaling on his joint. He passes it to her, and she takes it willingly.

“I’m on vacation and Vicky is away for the weekend with her sister.” She passes the joint back to him as they walk back into the garage. “Plus, you need a day off.”

“I’m on vacation too.” He grumbles, and he was, he took two weeks off from the record shop he co-owned just to spend more time with Hunter and potentially start writing music again.

“Dude, I mean like a day off.” She says, passing him a soda from the bag. “Me and Hunter can have an auntie day, and you can go run errands or go scream in the woods.”

Eddie chuckles. “Screaming in the woods does sound appealing.”

“Please just take the day for yourself, man.” She tells him kindly, both finishing off the joint and walking back inside. “You need it.” She peels off her jacket, it was springtime, but the nighttime air was still a bit chilly.

“I don’t want to put a burden on you, Rob. He can be a handful, and it’s his birthday.” He tells her, moving his way to the living room to check the monitor.

“He’s obsessed with me. He saves the tantrums for you. I’m not saying go out for the whole day, just go do something for you for a couple hours, and then we can have cake when you get back.” She pats his shoulder, and he laughs. They both sit on the couch; Eddie puts on a music documentary for background noise.

He feels her eyes on him, and he turns his head to look at her. “Go ahead, ask the question.”

“Are you really okay?” She asks him, pulling her knees up to her chest.

He sighs, leaning back on the couch. “Okay in what sense?”

“You know what I mean.”

“I’m okay when I’m with Hunter. When he giggles at something he finds funny, when he grabs my face just press his forehead against mine, when he hugs me. Nighttime lately has been…lonely, I guess.” He groans, hating that he was opening up like this, but Robin could unfortunately read him like a book.

“Do you miss her?”

“Of course I do.” He says, sighing loudly after he hesitates. “I miss having a partner, she was so good. And Hunter loved her…” His throat clenches, tears welling up in his eyes. “I’m pissed at her for robbing him of a mother. I’m fucking angry, Robin. She had the help in front of her, I don’t understand.”

Robin is silent for a moment. “Sometimes it’s hard for some people to get out of that darkness. Being in constant pain everyday and just trekking along. It wasn’t your job to save her, Eddie.”

“I could never leave him like that.” His voice trembles. “He’s everything to me.”

“And he was everything to her.” Robin says, leaning over to grab his hand. “But sometimes, that isn’t enough.”

“Well, it should’ve been.” He wipes his eyes. “I don’t want to talk about her anymore, the more I talk about her the angrier I get.”

“Has Hunter talked about her?”

And…we’re still talking about her.

“Not really, he will stare at her picture and smile. His eyes twinkle like hers, that bright blue mixed with green. It’s beautiful.” He tries to smile. “I just feel like his life is already gonna be fucked up because of this and because I’m his dad.”

“You’re a great father, Eddie.”

He’s quiet.

“I question it sometimes.”

“Well, you shouldn’t. That little boy loves you.” She squeezes his hand. “I don’t know a thing about being a parent, but I know my parents, and they sucked. It’s not easy, but you’re doing your best.”

He rolls his eyes, groaning, laying his head against her shoulder. “Can’t you just let me be self deprecating for once? I hate that you’re a nice person sometimes.”

“I hate that you’re mean to yourself. You’re my best friend, and I wish you would just see what I see.”

“I need to write again.” He sighs.

“So, write. Go somewhere tomorrow and do that.” She rests her head against his. He pats her knee, sighing.

“Fine. I will do that…after I express some more self-deprecating behavior.”

“You’re so annoying, dude.” She laughs, shoving him away.

“It’s your fault for wanting to be my friend.”

***

Hunter had woken later than usual; he was happy and giggling and as soon as he saw Robin’s face, he squealed with delight. Eddie had put on one of Hunter’s favorite songs, Let’s Dance by David Bowie and the two of them danced and sang the song to him with goofy faces which made him have full belly laughs. It took Eddie a few pushes from Robin before she could get him out of the house. He wasn’t sure where he wanted to go, but as he drove, he realizes he hasn’t been to the bookstore in a while. He had bought a lot of his music books back in the day from there, along with anything that had to do with the Lord of the Rings. He pulls into the parking lot and steps out, adjusting his jeans and his Knocked Loose t-shirt. As soon as he steps in the doorway, he is hit with a familiar aroma of books. He forgot how soothing it was to just stand there and take it all in.

He wasn’t sure where to go first; they had done a lot of rearranging of the place. He settled with heading to the children’s section first. He felt like a little kid himself, remembering how it felt to open a new book and see the pictures pop out from the pages. He had a pile in his arms, one of the workers had to give him a basket so his arm wouldn’t fall off. He found children’s board books called Baby Bowie, Baby Janis and Baby Elvis. He found a children’s book rendition of the Goonies and Back to the Future, as well as a cute store about a pack of baby wolves in the woods. He exits the area, completely distracted by his next his adventure into the horror section when he accidentally collides with a woman in the aisle. He drops his basket, as well as causing her to drop her pile of books.

“Oh shit, I am so sorry.” He tells her, squatting down to help her pick up up the books.

“No, no, I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”

That voice.

Eddie looks up.

Your voice.

The two of you lock eyes; Eddie almost topples over.

“Oh my god…Eddie?!” You squeal with delight, getting to your feet and Eddie follows, lifting you off your feet as he hugs your waist tightly. He was almost shaking; it had been close to twenty years since he last laid his eyes on you.

He pulls away to look at you and he smiles. “You haven’t changed.”

You blush. “Neither have you.” You curl a piece of his hair in your finger. He stares at you and is having a hard time trying to find words as he hands your books to you.

“How-how long are you in town for?” He asks you quietly, still smiling.

“Oh, uh…permanently.” You say with a small laugh. “I moved into my parents house…my mom died a few years ago and my dad had to go to nursing home.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” He says sadly, grabbing your hand. “I didn’t know.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to come, Eddie. You got your hands full. How’s your son?” You smile sweetly at him, and his heart does a pitter patter.

“He’s awesome. He’s two today. He’s at my house hanging out with Robin.”

“Robin Buckley? How is she?”

“She’s great, getting married next year to Vicky.”

Eddie had heard that you were married a few years ago, but he didn’t want to pry when he didn’t see a ring on your finger and the admission that you were living with your parents. You smile, shaking your head and taking out your phone. “You probably should be getting back to Hunter. I would love to catch up though.” You ask him for his number which he gives willingly, and you send Eddie a melting face emoji and he giggles.

“Got it.” He smiles at you, and you smile back. You sigh, going up on your toes to hug his shoulders. “It was so good to see you.”

Eddie squeezes your waist, and you have to squeeze your eyes shut. It has been a long time since another man held you like this. You pull away and say your goodbyes, going your separate ways.

Eddie is still dumbfounded when he gets home, he couldn’t believe he ran into you. Robin notices the look on his face, and he tells her everything.

“Whoa dude, the one who got away.”

“I mean, not really.” He says, moving Hunter’s curly hair out of his eyes and kissing his forehead. “The only thing that happened was we kissed, and that was short lived because the cops came to break up the party in the woods.”

“Kissed key word. Steve and I had been rooting for the two of you that whole summer.”

Eddie laughs. “We were just friends at that point.” He pulls Hunter in his arms, rocking him gently and he lays his head against Eddie’s chest, ready to fall asleep for his afternoon nap. Eddie stares at Hunter, taking him all in as he sometimes does. His beautiful round cheeks, his full lips. The dimples he got from Eddie, so much more prominent. His bright blue eyes stare into his, and his little hand goes up to cup his cheek and Eddie kisses his palm. Robin was watching her best friend from the background, knowing that his little moment he was sharing with Hunter was a moment just for them. Eddie begins singing a soft melody to him, and by the time he’s finished, Hunter is sound asleep in his arms.

Eddie had placed him in his pack and play in the living room, covering him with his favorite blanket.

“Go write some music.” Robin says gently. “I’ll hang in here with him.”

Eddie nods, gently squeezing her hand. “Thank you.”

Eddie walks in the garage, sighing as he takes a pack of cigarettes he had hidden in the cabinet. He barely smokes anymore, but when he needs to write something, a buzz from nicotine will usually do the trick. He sits down on the stool behind the drum set, laying his composition notebook on the snare drum, opening it to a blank page. He lights up the cigarette, letting the fire burn his lungs. He closes his eyes, slowly letting out the smoke. He takes the cap off his pen with his teeth and hovers it over the blank page.

A sound of a beer can opening…

A cute laugh…

He stares off for a moment, remembering…

A long time ago…

Eddie sits on a broken tree limb, smoking a cigarette and sipping his beer, staring at the bon fire. He was seventeen, sitting by himself while watching his friends socialize. He wasn’t in the mood to socialize tonight; he was already in a bad mood, but Robin and Steve really wanted him at the party. His dad had called from prison, asking Eddie to wire him some money for his canteen. Eddie told him to fuck himself, and his father ended the call to tell him it was the anniversary of his mother Elizabeth’s death. Which he had forgotten about. And he was oddly overcome with so much sadness and grief he didn’t know how else to process it besides sulking. Eddie feels a presence next to him, and turns to see you, gripping an empty beer bottle.

“Walk with me.” You mutter quietly.

“What?” Eddie asks you, confusion setting in but also concern on why your hands are trembling. “Are you okay?”

“No.” You whisper. “I’m pretty sure one of the dudes over there drugged me…please just walk with me.”

A burning rage fills up Eddie’s lungs as he looks over at the crowd of football players, passing small glances over at the two of you. Eddie couldn’t fathom why someone would do that…especially to someone like you. Eddie stands up, about to walk over there but you grab his denim jacket in a tight fist.

“No, Eddie. Walk with me.” You tell him, desperation in your tone and Eddie lets out a sigh and nods. You drop the beer bottle when he takes your hand and the two of you walk down a dark path towards where the moon overlooks the lake.

You lean against a tree; Eddie watches you as you take in a few deep breaths. He walks towards you, gently taking your hand.

“Walk me through it, are you feeling it?” He asks you carefully.

“I don’t know…maybe? My legs feel weird. I know I’m drunk, but my heart won’t stop racing. I feel like I’m gonna get sick.”

“If you puke it will dial down the effects of the drugs.” Eddie tells you gently, the rage still burning. “Who was it?”

“It doesn’t matter.” You say, hiccuping and then holding your stomach. “Some douche bag.”

“I need a name.”

“No, you don’t, what you need is to hold my hair back because if you keep talking, I’m gonna throw up on your shoes.” You awkwardly stumble into him as you clench your stomach with your arm, and you feel the bile rise to your throat and the vomit come out like a faucet. Eddie’s holding your hair and gently rubbing your back as you violently puke behind the tree. When you feel like you have nothing left from your insides, you groan, leaning back against the tree. You didn’t feel like you were going to black out anymore, but the slight high was still there.

“There’s…water…in my bag…” you tell him quietly. “Can you get it for me, please?”

Eddie nods, going through your bag and handing you a steel water bottle. You chug it; Eddie tells you to slow down so you don’t puke again but you wave him off. You slide down to your bottom on the cool ground, your legs covered in dirt. “Thank you.”

“Now will you tell me who it was?”

You giggle. “No. It’s over with. I’m the idiot who took a drink from a stranger at a party in the woods.”

“Don’t victim blame.” Eddie tells you with a smirk.

“I’m not a victim. You, Eddie Munson were my knight and shining armor who rescued me.” You giggle at how ridiculous you sound. “Sorry, I’m still drunk and I’m trying to keep it together.”

Eddie laughs, sitting next to you. His heart doing a pitter patter as he stares at you. Steve and Robin had introduced you to him two summers ago. You had hung out together but never alone like this, he couldn’t get over your beauty. Even in the moonlight, your features were breathtaking.

“Are you okay?” You ask him quietly. “You’ve seemed a little off all night.”

Eddie is caught off guard by your question. “Yeah, I’m okay.” He smiles at you, taking out his cigarettes.

“Those are bad for you.” You smirk at him. “Haven’t you seen those commercials?”

“Yup.” He laughs, twirling the lighter in his hands. “I won’t smoke if it bothers you.”

“No, it’s fine, cause I’m probably gonna ask you for one.” You laugh.

“But these are bad for you.” Eddie teases and you gently nudge him with your foot.

“Give me one.”

Eddie laughs, taking two from his pack, and handing you one. He lights yours first, the flame illuminating your face as you inhale deeply, you only cough a little and you lean your head back against the tree. The two of you sit in silence, your anxiety was subsiding. His presence alone was making you feel safe, comfortable.

“I was thinking about my mom.” Eddie tells you after a moment and you glance over at him, he’s not sure why he told you, he guesses he just needed to say it out loud. “Today is her anniversary…and I forgot. So, I feel like a shitty son.”

You lean closer to him. “I’m sorry.”

Eddie shrugs. “It’s just a lifelong thing I have to deal with I guess.”

You inhale on the cigarette, letting it billow from your nostrils. “My dad lost both of his brothers during Vietnam. His older brother got killed over there and his other brother came home but never left until he took his life. I remember being young and asking him how it feels to grow up without them, how they stay the same age, and he gets older, approaching their ages year after year. I think I caught him off guard because it took him awhile to say what he said. But he said, ‘it feels like being trapped in a current, one side of the water is pulling you towards where you don’t want to go, and the other side is fighting against you. You can either swim with all your might to avoid it until you’re exhausted, or you can let the current slowly carry you. That’s what grief is, it’s never ending, sometimes it’s okay to fight against it, but sometimes it’s not. It’s just empty love’.”

Eddie stares in awe at you, feeling tears creep up into the corners of his eyes. “Wow. I never thought of it like that.”

“Me either, but I’ve also never lost anyone.” You sigh, glancing at his solemn face. “She must’ve been an amazing woman.”

“Yeah.” Eddie hesitates. “From what I remember. She’s why I love music, so I guess when I play music or write songs, I take her with me.”

You smile, and gently rest your head against his shoulder. He tenses a little but relaxes, resting his cheek against the top of your head. This felt natural to you, and it surprisingly felt natural to Eddie. You didn’t even know what time it was, and in that moment you didn’t care. You could stay curled next to him forever.

“Will I feel like this tomorrow?” You whisper.

His curly hair tickles your forehead. “You’re probably gonna have a headache in the morning. Drink a lot of water.”

“I don’t know what would’ve happened if you weren’t there…or if my first instinct wasn’t to come find you.” You lean your head up to look at his face and he meets your eyes, his heart racing over how close your faces were. “Thank you.”

Eddie smiles, gently squeezing your hand. “Don’t need to thank me. You could give me a name though.”

“Nope.” You laugh and he sighs, shaking his head.

“I’m gonna find out eventually.” He says, snuffing the cigarette out on a rock.

“And you’re going to do nothing because I told you to do nothing.” You say, meeting his brown eyes, staring at them and he stares back at you. “Did you know that your eyes have a bit of gold in them? They’re beautiful.”

Eddie blushes and giggles. “You’re just drunk.” He bumps you with his shoulder.

“No, well, yes but…I never noticed them before.” You move your hand up to cup his face and he almost flinches. “There’s a lot I didn’t notice before.”

Eddie swallows the lump in his throat, carefully turning towards you so your knees are touching. He lifts his hand to curl a piece of hair behind your ear and you tremble. You lean towards his lips, and he pulls back a little, cupping your cheek. “Are you sure? You’re still drunk, I don’t want you to—"

“Just kiss me, you dork.” You laugh and he smiles shyly. He leans carefully towards you, slightly trembling as his soft lips press against yours. A thousand volts goes through your entire core as you kiss him, and he wonders why he never got the guts to kiss you before now. The kiss deepens, and you push your body closer to his as he cups the back of your head. His other hand grips your waist, and you sigh, sitting on his lap.

“COPS!”

Someone yells as they run past you two, and your lips pull away quickly. You could hear the sirens by the fire and the sound of walkie talkies. The two of you scramble to your feet, you grab your bag, and he takes your hand, both going into a sprint through the woods. You couldn’t stop laughing, the excitement of kissing him as well as the adrenaline from escaping the cops was making you feel all kinds of giddy. When the two of you felt comfortable enough to slow down, you both end up on a quiet road, which was near your house, the silence was calming, and you had to catch your breath from the laughing.

“That was insane.” You laugh. “I’ve never run from the cops before.”

“It’s a cake walk for me now.” Eddie laughs, taking your hand as you two walk silently towards your street. Thunder booms over head, rain begins to pelt you both. You laugh loudly as the rain becomes torrential and you’re running again to the sidewalk in front of your house. He walks you to the front door, the awning shielding you both from the rain and you giggle, moving your wet hair from your face.

Eddie laughs, picking a piece of a leaf that landed in your hair. You smile at him, clearing your throat.

“I had a lot of fun.” You tell him and he smiles.

“Yeah, me too.” He grins. “Are you gonna be okay?”

“I’ll be fine. I’ll message you if I need you to pull me out of a black out.” You joke.

“Don’t scare me because I will sleep outside your window.”

You smile at him, gently patting his face. “Thank you for everything, Eddie.”

Eddie gently cups your chin, smiling. “Don’t need to thank me.”

You laugh, shaking your head, opening your screen door quietly. You stop at the door, looking up at him. You lean up on your toes, kissing him softly on the lips and open your front door. You wave to him from your foyer, telling him to text you when he got home safely.

Eddie walked through the rain that night with a smile on his face, still feeling the tingle of your lips against his.

It was a feeling he hasn’t felt before, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to lose it yet.

Eddie groans, closing his notebook. He didn’t write anything, he was in a daze, thinking of you, remembering that kiss. The kiss that sealed the deal that you were the girl of his dreams, but then life happened, you never really saw each other again. But he always thought about you, always wondered what if, even when he was with Olivia. He sighs, taking his cell phone out of his pocket and scrolling to the text message you had sent him earlier.

He didn’t know what to say, or what to ask. He didn’t know if it was too soon to reach out to you or if you were waiting for him. Coffee was innocent enough, right? He needed to find a babysitter first, only for a few hours. He couldn’t ask Robin again, he felt too bad, but he knew she would say yes. He felt extremely guilty suddenly; he shouldn’t be leaving him with babysitters.

“Text her.” Olivia’s voice comes out of the shadows and Eddie gasps loudly, falling off the drum stool.

“Fuck.” Eddie says, catching his breath. “Go away.”

“Not until you text her.” He could feel her presence, and his hands tremble as he keeps his eyes fixed on the high hat. He knew she was right behind him, but he wouldn’t look.

“You’re an actual nightmare.” He mutters, reaching for his phone.

“Take Hunter with you if you have to.”

“No, I don’t want to confuse him.”

“How would you confuse him?”

“She’s not you.” Eddie says, his heart slowly breaking.

“No, she’s not. But, Eddie…this will be good for you, for both of you.”

Eddie stares at the blinking cursor on the text thread, his fingers hovering over the keypad. He doesn’t feel Olivia’s presence anymore and quickly types up a message, hitting send.

Hi, I’m not sure if you have plans or not tomorrow, but would you like to meet for coffee in the morning? There’s a café near my house where they have cake pops that Hunter loves. I hope you don’t mind that he tags along.

She responds immediately: Why would I mind? He’s your son. Of course I would love to meet for coffee. 8am okay?

Eddie smiles. That sounds perfect.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fluff #stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fem!reader #eddie munson comfort #eddie munson series

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messrmoonyy · 7 months ago

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-Sadie Adler as your gf hcs ( sfw/nsfw )

Sadie Adler x Fem!reader

A/N- I am in fact posting these out of pure and utter spite because Sadie Adler can. And will. Kiss girls. Because this is what?! Fan fiction!And it brings me an insane amount of joy that the sheer idea alone of Sadie being queer angers people. Sadie Adler kisses girls pass it on!!!

These are mostlyyy epilogue and beyond based Sadie pls lemme be your lil housewife

Dedicated to @queer-sadie-adler for being the true voice of reason lately amidst the hell hole that has been the queer Sadie discussions. You’re awesome.

Masterlist - requests are open!

• she’s incredibly protective of you. One wrong look your way and she’s ready to start shooting or swinging. Shes so a ‘ why don’t ya take a picture, it’ll last longer ‘ baby has some slight anger issues

• falls very much into the ‘ I hate everyone except you ‘ category. So stoney faced and ready to brawl with everyone, but soft gazes and tender touches with you.

• you hear her before you see her. She’ll ride back home to you after going after a bounty and proudly announce her return with a ‘ honey I’m home! ‘ as she rides up to your home.

• secretly adores the way you fuss over her before she goes out. She lost everything other than you in the space of like. A year. so it’s nice to be reminded how much you care about her. And that she has someone in the world to care about herself.

• she’s actually a pretty decent cook. And you can often expect her to try cook you something nice. Especially if she’s gotten onto your bad side some how, she knows a nice romantic meal will butter you up nice and quick

• I have this thought that she is just a nightmare to share a bed with. Girly tosses and turns and takes up too much damn space. But it just gives you the excuse to crawl up close to her and get comfy in the little space she leaves, falling asleep practically on top of her.

• and on the subject of sleeping. Has just the finest motherfuckin morning voice you’ve ever heard. Her raspy ‘ Mornin my darlin’ in your ear everyday makes you wanna melt into a puddle every damn time.

• loves sharing a bath with you. Especially if she’s been gone for a few days. She’ll make some excuse that it’s just to save on water. But in reality she just wants to relax and hold you close to her, feel your skin on hers to remind her she’s not just some angry bounty hunter. All tough and rough and fighting. She needs the gentle and the calm you provide her.

• hand holding. Forehead kisses. Sitting in her lap as you read on the porch. Just small, gentle acts of intimacy. The kind not discussed but well practiced between lovers.

• she can get in her head a little sometimes. She knows it’s not easy being in a relationship like that in 1907. And she knows that she doesn’t make it much easier on you with the works she does either.

• but she loves you wholeheartedly. And she knows that you love her just as equally. And as much as she feels she doesn’t deserve you, she’ll keep loving you until you don’t want her anymore which would never happen of course

•NSFW•

• she needs to be the one in control all of the time. This isn’t to say she doesn’t like receiving, or like having you on top of her. She just likes to be the one with her hands on the reins yk.

• in fact. She quite enjoys you on top of her or In her lap. But even so, know that she’s the one pulling the strings and she’s two steps ahead of you at all times

• she’s gentle and soft with you, but determined. Whether that’s knowing exactly where to touch you and abusing that same spot over and over again until you’re a shaking mess. Or telling you where and how to touch her.

• I said this in my last hcs but fingers in the mouthhhhh. Idc what anyone says. I see it so vividly. She loves it. Loves watching you suck her fingers to get them wet. Or clean them off.

• eats pussy like a god. Will have you seeing stars and thanking whatever Lord may exist for putting that woman right between your thighs. Sloppy and thorough and has you coming with her name on your tongue.

• thigh riding!!!!

• girly loves to manspread. Will sit there and pat her leg for you to perch on, but manoeuvre you to straddle her leg instead. And she loves how it makes you blush ‘ you’re a regular ol’ cowgirl now ain’t ya honey? ‘ as she leans back in her seat to watch you I’m literally going insane

• morning sex!! Waking up spooning with her, teasing her by wiggling your hips against her until she slips a hand over your hips and between your legs

• ‘ this what y’ wanted? Been dreamin of me honey? ‘

• will absolutely get up afterwards as casual as ever and ask what’s for breakfast. As if she hadn’t just had her fingers buried in your cunt.

• her aftercare is just so gentle. Especially if she’s been gone a while and has you coming for hours on end. She’ll praise you and hold you and help clean you up. Maybe drag you into the tub with her and sit behind you to wash your hair.

• and she enjoys the intimacy of dressing you so much more than undressing. Getting you comfy and cosy in clean night clothes before snuggling up with you in bed, letting you rest your head on her chest and tangling up your legs together.

#Sadie Adler kisses girls pass it on!!#I’m also writing a drabble/os on that thigh riding thing as we speak #gnawing at the bars of my enclosure for this woman #Sadie Adler #sadie adler x reader #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #rdr2 community #rdr2 fanfic #Sadie Adler smut #x you #fluff #arthur morgan #john marston #van der linde gang #rdr2 Sadie

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xvysarene · 7 months ago

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𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕋𝕒𝕡𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕣𝕪 𝕠𝕗 𝕋𝕚𝕞𝕖

Pairing: Xavier x Fem!Reader Prompt: “No, you can't stay here.” Words: ~1.1k Genre: Angst, No Comfort Notice: Some spoiler of Xavier's Myth, Shooting Stars, although not entirely aligned

[ᝰ.ᐟ MASTERLIST]

He staggered back, clearly surprised by how your muttered words reverberated loudly in the otherwise dimly lit room. Cerulean orbs searched for yours skilfully, eyes bright as they were when tracking Wanderers in the darkest of nights.

“What did you say?” A hint of disbelief was palpable in Xavier's voice.

You stepped away from the shadow, hands trembling as you struggled to steady them. Despite anticipating this moment, when confronted with reality, you found yourself questioning whether you could truly accept your sacrifice without harboring any regrets.

“I said, no, you can't stay here.”

Revelation dawned on him. Despite Xavier’s frequent drowsiness, he remained inherently sharp. It was one of the attributes that had made him a highly respected hunter.

“How long have you known?”

“Enough time to understand the over-complicated truth.”

Irritation briefly flickered in his eyes. He looked at the thinning veil behind him, clearly cursing the other party that stepped through it earlier. “Jeremiah told you.”

“I was the one who convinced Jeremiah to tell me everything. You shouldn’t kick his ass when you see him again.”

Xavier couldn’t help but chuckle bitterly at that. Jeremiah, though physically not imposing, could defeat anyone on mind games. That’s why he brought him along on the mission as he needed a logical partner.

He couldn’t comprehend why Jeremiah had agreed to divulge the secrets they swore to keep between themselves—especially to the one person he had hoped would never uncover the truth.

“Besides, you’re not as secretive as you thought, Xav.” You gave him a small, sad smile. “I guess that's what makes us human, right? Despite not being a normal one, having an aether core-fused heart, or having lived for a hundred years, we still can’t stop ourselves from showing our deepest desires during moments of vulnerability. I used to believe that she was your unforgettable first love or perhaps an ex who taught you a crucial life lesson. However, that’s just me shying away from the undeniable.”

As much as you had steeled yourself for this moment, your vision began to blur, and Xavier was fast to engulf you in his hug. You couldn’t help but wrap your arms around his lithe but muscular figure, feeling his warmth and further breaking your heart.

He buried his face in your hair, taking a deep breath to blanket himself in your scent like he always did.

“That’s not true,” his voice came out shakier than he intended.

“But it is, Xavier. You don’t know how many times you called out to her in your sleep. Or sometimes when you look at me, I can tell that you don't truly see me for who I am in this current existence. You can’t deny this, because in doing so, you’re also hurting her…me.”

You had to force your head up to fully face your light. Xavier wouldn’t let you step away from him.

Gently cupping his cheeks, you urged him to focus on your next words. “Face it, Xav. Your queen and I… our resemblances are solely physical. We’re two entirely different persons, made up of distinct personalities. If she was the reason why you were in this timeline in the first place, you cling to the hope of going back to her one day, don’t you? You wouldn’t abandon her eternity, right?”

His hug tightened. “I’m sorry,” he said after some time, head bowed in shame. “I’m sorry, Y/N. Truly, deeply sorry for making you feel less than your worth.”

Despite his painful acknowledgment, you found yourself relaxing, accepting your fate. Xavier's thumbs gently wiped away the tears that had escaped from your eyes.

“But you’re going to be here all alone,” his voice cracked, almond eyes cloudy. “I can’t go back and live peacefully knowing that.”

“If what Jeremiah told me is the truth, I have left you more than once. It’s your time to experience having someone be there when you’re back. This is the time to redeem myself, even when the timeline has gone haywire.”

Xavier shook his head furiously. “We won’t know if the alternative aether core would work. If I go back and learn that I will lose you again and Philos, I would rather stay here with you in the past.”

“You know it will work, that’s why you were so insistent on sending Jeremiah back alone with it, and selfishly waiting at the other end just to make sure it disappears, an indicator that Philos has accepted the aether-core. You know how much Jeremiah wants to go back there, and for everything he has done for you, you believed it was your turn to help him. I can’t take you away from her; it’s not right. It’s not my time to have you.”

“What difference does it make when I’m also willingly leaving you here? You understand that once I step through that veil, we’ll never meet each other again in this timeline.”

As if aware of its existence, the veil dimmed. You eyed it wearily, realizing that the swirling vortex of electric blue and silver had turned almost transparent.

“Xavier,” you sighed when he cupped your hand, reveling at the contact, “we both know that my time in this realm will end, I can’t be immortal here. I would rather face the certainty of our eternal bond in another dimension than linger in the fleeting confines of this world.”

You placed your fingers against his lips, silencing his upcoming argument. “You do realize that if you abandoned me in the future, I would despise you, don't you?" you made a playful comment to lighten the mood, but he was miserable. Filled with guilt and disappointment that he couldn’t control the situation.

You guided his head down to meet your lips halfway. As both of your lips touched in a bittersweet embrace, a silent farewell woven into each tender touch. The palm pressed against his heart felt its rapid beats.

“Goodbye, my light. Be happy,” you whispered those words to his lips.

Xavier should have known that whenever you were around, his caution melted away. That was his greatest weakness. He registered the force that caught him entirely off guard a second too late.

Xavier reached out his hand, losing momentum. “Y/N! Wait—!” he called out, voice tinged with urgency.

As his body was hurled into the closing veil, it snapped shut, swallowing his unfinished words. Sobs wracked your body, each wave of emotion sent your body crashing to the wooden floor.

Moonlight peeking through the windows cast its glow upon the intricate gold of the gigantic frame before you.

Where the veil had shimmered moments before, there was now only emptiness, revealing a cold cement wall that stood as a cruel reminder of the end of a chapter you could never revisit.

While seemingly nearly empty every night, a profound silence enveloped Philo Flower Store differently. Vibrant blooms began to wilt, their once lively hues fading into desolation, while the lush vines that once cascaded down nearby buildings now curled and browned.

⤷ ᝰ.ᐟ MASTERLIST

#ᝰ.ᐟ 𝐱𝐞𝐩𝐡'𝐬 writing nook #love and deepspace #lads #l&ds #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace x y/n #love and deepspace x you #xavier #xavier x reader #xavier x y/n #xavier x you #angst #no comfort

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my-proof-is-you · 8 months ago

Text

But God, at what cost?

Imagine: Dean helping you get through your cardio workout

A/N: Literally thought of this when I was at the gym trying to get through a workout. Pretended Dean was cheering me on…is that weird? Ha.

You were pretty sure almost no one hated running more than you.

You were a bigger person. You always had been. Plus sized, if you will. You were very strong, though. When you hunted, you held your own.

You didn’t hate your body, either. You weren’t skinny like some of your friends were in high school. You knew none of them could do what you could on hunts, though.

Dean liked your curves, too. He always said he admired your strength and the man damn near worshipped your body in bed.

But you knew your weakness: cardio.

It wasn’t very often you had to run for your life. You, Sam and Dean made a great hunting team, so there was rarely a need to run away.

When you did, though, you lagged behind. That meant that Dean lagged behind, too. He would never leave you to fend for yourself. You didn’t like it. You didn’t want him in danger any more than he wanted you to be.

So that was why you were trying to get better at running even though it was the bane of your existence. You’d been spending time in the bunker gym, using the treadmill Sam had bought for when the weather outside wasn’t conducive to his runs.

You didn’t really want Dean to know what you were doing. It was your own problem, and you wanted to fix it on your own.

You’d run a few times on your own on the treadmill, and hated every second of it. It put you in a bad mood for the rest of the day, and your boyfriend had definitely noticed.

You were once again trying to get a run in on the treadmill before the brothers got back from their supply run. Unfortunately, you didn’t time it right.

“Y-Y/N?” Dean asked, entering the gym. He had a shocked look on his face.

“What?” You huffed, annoyed. It wasn’t his fault, but you couldn’t hide how much you hated what you were doing.

“What the hell are you doing?” he asked, coming to stand next to the treadmill with his arms crossed over his chest.

You rolled your eyes. “Can’t a person run without getting asked a million questions?”

“A person, yes. You…no. Sweetheart, you hate running,” he said with a smile and a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah—well— hate—putting you—in danger—more,” you said while panting.

Dean reached over, pulling the cord that stops the treadmill.

“Hey!” You exclaimed, slowing to a walk before the belt stopped completely.

“What are you talking about?” Dean asked. “What danger?”

“I’m slow, Dean,” you said, finally regaining your breath. “I know I am. And I don’t want to be the reason you stay behind and get killed by a monster!”

“First of all, that’s not going to happen. And B, you are one of the best hunters I know. I really think you’re underestimating yourself.”

You sighed. “Regardless, Dean, I could be better, and I want to be.”

Dean’s eyes narrowed as he studied your face. “This has nothing to do with looks, right? Cause, sweetheart, you know I think you’re perfect the way you are.”

You smiled, despite your exhaustion. “I know that, De. And I promise, it’s not about that. I know I’m hot,” you said with a wink.

Dean bit his lip, sending a little thrill through to your core.

“I just want to improve is all,” you said with a shrug.

“Well, sweetheart, you know how I feel about running, too. I hate it maybe more than you do. But if this is something you want, I will help you,” Dean said, reaching out to squeeze your hand.

You weren’t sure how he meant to help you, but going it alone wasn’t working. You’d take any help offered at this point.

He watched your face as you tried to understand what he’d do, and he gestured for you to step back on the treadmill. You turned it back on and began jogging.

After a minute or so, you started to get out of breath and wanted desperately to stop. You looked at Dean, who nodded his head in the direction the treadmill was facing to tell you to keep looking forward.

“You got this, sweetheart,” he began. He wasn’t yelling it, just speaking with conviction at his normal volume.

“I’ve seen you go through literal Hell, Y/N. This is nothing. You are so strong.”

His words gave you some confidence. It was nice to hear, especially over the voice in your head that was telling you to quit.

You went another ten minutes with Dean’s words of encouragement spurring you on before your legs started really aching.

“It—hurts—De—” you panted.

“Just a little more, Y/N/N. And when you’re done, I’m gonna take you to the shower…get you nice and clean,” he said, his voice turning sultry.

“Hm?” You asked, suddenly distracted from your pain.

“That’s right, baby. Then I’m gonna massage all your sore muscles.”

You felt even more of a blush rising to your cheeks.

“And tomorrow, when you’re all rested, we’re gonna do some cardio together.”

“You—hate—running,” you said, breathless for more than one reason.

“I’m not talking about running, sweetheart.”

You hit your goal of two miles then, and nearly leapt off the treadmill before the belt even stopped.

“Let’s hit the showers,” you said, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the hall.

Dean followed, chuckling. “Don’t have to tell me twice.”

Forevers:

@divadinag @lynne1993 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @onethirstyunicorn @sammykb1994 @lilulo-12 @mellorine-paprika @tranquility-or-chaos @collette04 @hoboal87 @chevyharvelle @miraclesoflove @defenderrosetyler @babypink224221 @calaofnoldor @beatifuldisaster018 @coffeebooksandfandom @supernatural3002 @lainxcas @mylovelydame21 @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester @lovely-lynns-likes @ppeachygemss @screechingartisancashbailiff @metalfangirl @vicmc624 @polina-93 @hobby27 @sexyvixen7 @unnuevosoltransformalarealidad @lyarr24 @amelia-song-pond @donnaintx @spnbaby-67 @traceyaudette @gh0stgurl @fiftyshadesgrl @tapedeck-hearts @lacilou @foxyjwls007 @stoneyggirl2 @kr804573 @cumuluscranium

Dean/Jensen:

@harleycao

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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 10 months ago

Text

Take Care

Castiel & child/teen reader (platonic obviously)

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: you and Castiel protect each other over the years (reader is like 9-13, it’s up for interpretation)

The angels had felt threatened by your very existence ever since they’d found out about you. But not Castiel.

Your origin was a mystery, but you had abilities that scared most angels, and any hunter. You could sense angelic presence and exorcize angels from their human vessels with just one touch. To most of heaven’s forces, that made you a threat.

But not to Cas. Cas protected you from the other angels, and for lack of a better term he was your friend.

So when Cas became a human and was on the run from heaven, you wanted to do all you could to help him. However, he insisted on going it alone, but he let you keep tabs on him as long as you didn’t tell the Winchesters.

You kept your word, and you were just going to pay a visit to your favorite ex-angel when you sensed angels nearby. The feeling was strong; too strong. There had to be a lot of angels nearby, which couldn’t be good for Cas, aka heaven’s most wanted. You rushed to the abandoned bus that Castiel was sleeping in, only to find your friend surrounded by angels.

You didn’t even speak. The moment you stepped onto the bus, you laid your hands on any Angel that dared venture near you, exorcizing them instantly.

The fight was over almost before it started, and you were left with a lot of confused empty vessels and Cas staring at you in surprise.

“I…” faced with so many people, you suddenly weren’t sure what to do. “Take care, Cas.”

And you took off running.

…

Your powers were failing you. Or maybe you were failing your powers.

Either way, you were currently locked away in Metatron’s basement with no hope of escape. He had your hands locked in special cuffs that surrounded your whole hand, so that it was impossible to make skin-on-skin contact, the only way for you to exorcise angels.

You’d tried every trick you knew to get out, but to no avail. Finally, you went to your last resort.

“Cas,” you began. “I…I didn’t want to call for you, because this is…this is gonna be really dangerous. But I need your help. Now that you’ve got your grace back, I figure maybe you’ve got a shot at helping me. Metatron’s got me at his…I don’t know, his headquarters I guess, in the basement.” You took a deep breath. “Cas,” your voice cracked. “Cas I need yo—“

“Do you really think your little angel friend can save you?” Metatron laughed as he sauntered down the stairs. “You’re gonna stay down here as long as I want you here. And there’s nothing that Castiel can—“

Metatron didn’t get to finish his sentence. He was blasted across the room, and the moment his head hit the wall you saw Castiel entering the room, trench coat waving behind him.

“Y/N.” Cas’s attention was on you instantly. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m ok,” you assured him.

Within moments, Cas had the cuffs off you and was leading you up the stairs.

“Thanks,” you breathed when the two of you were far from Metatron.

“I guess this makes us even.” Cas grinned. “So don’t mention it.”

…

“Are you staying around this time?” You asked as Castiel dropped you off at the bunker.

“You’ll see me around,” Cas promised.

You took one look at the bunker door before turning around and wrapping your arms around Cas.

“Visit soon,” you urged.

Cas smiled as he reciprocated your hug.

“Take care, little one.”

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl

#the winchesters #castiel & reader #castiel x reader #spn castiel #castiel novak #castiel #supernatural #supernatural castiel

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kesujo · 2 months ago

Text

Chapter 6: Sick Days - Part 1

Previous chapter here.

When Parker entered his next-door neighbor’s apartment, this time, Hunter was there to greet him. “Hey Parker, thanks again for agreeing to come over. Jessica usually doesn’t get sick, but for her, when it rains, it really pours. She’s still in the bedroom, her temperature hasn’t really gone down since this morning, but I have a meeting in like, two minutes, so I’ll have to jump into the office in a few. Sorry for just dumping all of this on your plate all of the sudden.”

“No problem. Those holiday planning meetings are a real killer huh?”

Hunter laughed, that boisterous kind of laugh that easily filled any room he was in with a bright energy. “Yeah, tell me about it. Thanks again for taking the day off and coming over to help. Oh—” Hunter stopped right before they entered the hallway that separated the kitchen and living room from the office room and bedroom, “—by the way, Jessica expressed some interest in entering the software development industry, and I know your work is in that field, so do you mind giving Jessica a good word at your place?”

If Parker were to be honest, that was the last thing he wanted to do. His workplace was his sanctity, but if he did anything but agree, he knew it would be suspicious. So, he just played off those emotions with a smile and a joke, “I don’t know how much help she would need, but yeah, I’ll do that.”

“Thanks a bunch, I owe ya!”

The two split off in the hallway, Parker continuing to the bedroom with Hunter quickly stepping into the office and closing the door behind him.

The reason Parker so confidently agreed to be in a room with Jessica alone was, earlier that morning, Hunter called him to ask him if he could take care of Jessica for the day, as she appeared to be incredibly sick upon waking up that morning. An ill, weak Jessica posed no threat to him, mostly because Parker knew Jessica was a good person and wouldn’t want to risk passing on her illness to him—something which sex would definitely at least have the risk of doing. But even if she was well enough to pressure him or if she decided to risk it anyway, Hunter was a greater threat than ever before.

The last two times Jessica forced adulterous activities onto Parker, there was a definitive barrier between Hunter and them. However frail it was, it existed: the thin apartment living room wall and Hunter’s desire to cook for Jessica, the bathroom door and Hunter’s desire to give Parker the space he needed while he was ‘vomiting’. This time, that barrier didn’t exist. The bedroom door, even if it was closed, was something that could always be opened. And, of course, Hunter would want to check in on his sick wife whenever possible, so it made sense for him to pop in from time to time. Although it seemed a barrier existed, it was more like a foggy window than anything: just a simple, trivial gesture would expose the view of the other side.

But despite knowing all of this, Parker was still a little bit on edge. Every time Parker thought it was unreasonable for Jessica to ambush him, he was proven wrong again and again. So, seeing Jessica’s small body curled up with the thick blanket smothering her body put his mind at ease. In fact, he found a bit of a smile growing on his face at the frankly adorable sight, Jessica’s tiny frame dwarfed by the humongous size of the blanket that was covering her. This was a side of Jessica Parker had almost never seen, a side of her he would much rather get to know than this other, dangerous side.

It was only when Parker was halfway to the bed that Jessica’s eyes opened. “Hey, how are you feeling?”

“Parker, you’re here?”

Hearing her hoarse, weak voice made Parker feel all the worse for being cautious of Jessica despite everything.

“Yeah, did you eat breakfast yet?” She shook her head, Parker slowing down as he neared the bed. “Do you want—”

When Jessica threw the covers off, Parker’s eye fell onto the spectacle, and despite barely having any time nor light to see what laid under the covers, he could clearly make out her curvaceous, bare body hiding under the thick layer of comforting material. Her hand shot out from the shadows, grabbing his arm and giving it a quick tug. Caught off guard, Parker felt his body in a brief moment of free fall, cursing himself for falling prey to Jessica again. After a brief scuffle, Parker found himself somehow having been maneuvered on top of the nude woman, the weighty blanket covering them both. His face was at her shoulder-level, her slender legs snaking around his waist and legs to secure his body tightly against hers.

By now, Parker felt more shame than anything else. Was he just extremely gullible? Or was this proof of Jessica’s slyness?

“I think I’d like your cock for breakfast, my lips have been starving for your cum.”

“Fucking bitch Jessica, this is by far the dumbest thing you’ve thought of. Hunter can come in any moment and you’re doing this shit?”

“I know, but that’s what makes this exhilarating!”

The excited gleam in her eyes confirmed Parker’s worst fears: that Jessica was faking her sickness to bait him over here. But what about that foggy window of the closed bedroom door being the only barrier between them and Hunter? Was Jessica so confident in herself that she didn’t deem it a problem? Or maybe it was just a challenge she was willing to take on? Or was she simply naïve?

“You pretended to be sick? Did you use makeup?”

Parker was stalling, digging through his brain for anything that might give him the slightest bit more time to figure out how to worm his way out of this mess.

“Yep! You know Hunter’s a heavy sleeper, so I just slipped out of bed this morning to apply some makeup to make me look sick, ran my head through some hot water and tampered with a thermostat’s readings to make it appear that I had a fever even if he checked my forehead himself. After that, I woke Hunter up to have him confirm it and got him to work from home. Since I knew that he would be really busy today, I gave Hunter a hint that I might need some additional attention to make it through this ‘illness’, which directed Hunter to call you over.”

In the brief minute Jessica granted him, Parker’s mind was still drawing blanks. She was too smart to fall for something like claiming he suddenly forgot something he needed to do for work, and if Parker tried making a break for it, Jessica could just draw Hunter’s attention with a loud scream. If that happened, it would be worse than usual, as in that situation, it would be reasonable to assume that Parker was the one that attacked Jessica and not vice-versa. Trying to call for Hunter himself was out of the question as well because Parker had no idea how Hunter would react to this kind of situation: while it might be the case that Parker would seem innocent by the fact that he was the one who called for Hunter, he might also come to the conclusion that Parker tried to take advantage of Jessica in her weakened state, and when she resisted, Parker yelled for help before Jessica could to deflect guilt from himself.

Hearing the thoroughness of her planning, though, Parker couldn’t help but feel amazed. He wondered how many problems she could solve if she applied those skills in the workforce and not wasting them away finding creative ways to cheat on her husband. Then, Parker remembered all that she had already contributed in her brief stint in the few companies she had worked for already.

“Well, first, let’s get these pesky things out of the way~”

Parker grabbed Jessica’s frail wrist as her fingers curled around the hem of his shirt. “Jessica, please.” This time, more so than ever before, Jessica could see the guilt and pain in his eyes. Even if he wasn’t trying, his use of puppy-dog eyes while begging her was extremely potent. Unfortunately for Parker, seeing it just turned the adulterous woman on more.

“Aww, is my baby getting impatient?” Jessica cooed, bringing her other hand up to Parker’s face and cupping his cheek.

“No, what—no, Jessica, don’t do this. There’s no way we’ll be able to notice Hunter every time he’s about to enter. Please, don’t do this.”

Parker tried channeling all the guilt and sorrow he felt into his voice as possible, but it fell on deaf ears. “Why? Are you going to be fucking me so hard, it’ll be hard to hear his footsteps?”

“No, that’s not—I mean, you promised that you would never let Hunter find out as long as I obeyed you right? Well, how are you going to uphold that today? Even you can’t predict every time Hunter would come in.”

“You don’t think I’ve only prepared up until now, do you?”

Parker already had a sinking suspicion, but seeing that she wasn’t going to budge disheartened him nevertheless. “Just—” he didn’t know what he could say at this point that would stop Jessica. So, instead of trying to stop her, he resorted to simply saying, “—just promise me that you’ll do everything in your power to prevent Hunter from finding out.”

Jessica gave him a dazzling smile. “Of course! It’s not a good thing for me if we get caught, you know.”

Parker groaned, his face paling at the thought of being pulled into another similar situation like this. Every time Jessica pulled him into such a situation, his heart felt on the verge of bursting in anxiety and fear, and every time Jessica let him go, he spent a good few minutes recuperating and collecting himself.

Parker wordlessly let Jessica strip him of his clothing, the pieces of cloth wedged between the side of the bed and the wall, essentially invisible to any onlookers. “Ooh, your friend has come ready to play,” Jessica noted excitedly, carefully stashing away his pants and boxers with one hand, the other wrapping around its thick circumference. She gave it a few pumps for good measure, his stiff shaft hardening in response. “What a good boy,” she cooed, as if talking to a puppy. Her head was buried beneath the covers, her eyes trained on Parker’s pulsating member, lifting the covers just enough to allow her to make out its outline. “You want give mama a big kiss on the lips? You want to feel how much mommy loves you? You want to give mommy’s kitty cat a hug?”

Ordinarily, Parker felt hearing those words in real life would be so incredibly cringey that he couldn’t help but laugh: however, Jessica’s cutesy, high-pitched voice and the babyish words she used sharply juxtaposed to her right hand stroking his cock and the attached erotic connotation of those words instead caused Parker to bite his lower lip, unable to help but feel his erection, trapped in the firm grip of her dainty fingers, grow.

“Mmm,” her half-hum, half-moan of pleasure sent a shudder down Parker’s spine, cursing the increasing feeling of arousal his body was experiencing, “You’re such a big boy, mommy’s kitty cat can’t wait to give you a biig hug.”

Parker wanted to beg her to stop but knew he would never live down the embarrassment from Jessica’s teasing, so he just bit his lip, wave after wave of pleasure rolling up his spine.

“Is my baby getting impatient? Don’t waste any of that precious milk,” Jessica reached down and wiped the precum off the tip of his dick, spooning it right into her mouth. “It tastes good, but it’s my other lips that want your milk, ok baby? Aww, look at how impatient you’re getting; don’t worry, mommy will pay attention to you soon, she just needs to tell daddy something.”

“Can you stop talking like that?”

Jessica giggled, making eye contact with Parker. “You say that, but your buddy is so hard it’s almost red; I can almost feel its veins against my hand, as if it’s it’s not inside me yet.”

Parker just had to open his mouth, didn’t he? Obviously, Parker was aware of Jessica’s words on the aggressively erect organ between his legs, but hearing Jessica say such words with his dick in her hands just felt extra wrong, somehow. “Let’s just get this over with, what did you want to tell me?”

“I’m only saying this because you seem to forget every time, but don’t do any of that ‘reserved’ stuff. If you’re not rough with me straight away, I’m going to let Hunter know.”

“But Hunter would be able to hear, wouldn’t he?”

Jessica shook her head. “This bed was designed not to make any sound while having sex.”

“What do you want me to do, even?”

“Whatever you want. My body is yours; treat me like your personal sex slave.”

As Jessica guided his cock into her, Parker started to panic. “Wait.”

Jessica stopped, a curious gaze landing upon him. Although it seemed innocuous enough, Parker could tell there was an underlying threat, that if Parker didn’t stop her for a good enough reason, she would get mad. But as the seconds ticked by, he kept on drawing blanks; so, under the steady gaze of Jessica’s expectant eyes, he decided to throw his morals out the window. The faster they got over this, the better; and, it’s not like trying to resist Jessica would do anything. If Jessica wanted him to be domineering, he would give her just that. After that, he can go back home and rest.

“Don’t think you can tell me what to do. You listen to me, got it?”

Parker felt himself cringe, hearing the words coming out of his mouth—but the way Jessica’s expression darkened with lust assured him that this was the fastest way to escape.

“Hands off. You only get to touch me when I say.”

Jessica retracted her hand, placing both by her sides, fingers curled towards her palms. “Sorry…”

“Sorry what?” he let out a guttural growl, his hands traversing her mounds and pinching the semi-erect peak.

“Master~” Jessica yelped, her body jumping at a sudden injection of ecstasy, “Sorry, Master!”

“Be quiet you slut, you want Hunter to hear us?” Parker asked, slapping her across the face. The crisp sound resonating from it made his body tense, hoping it wouldn’t be enough for Hunter to come check.

However, Jessica showed no signs of being worried about it, in fact clearly showing excitement amidst the submissive whimpering she was doing. “I’m sorry Master, I’ll be quiet…”

Parker turned his attention to her voluptuous tits, each hand grabbing a handful of the pliable skin. “Look at these huge tits, they’re just begging to be squeezed.”

“Master~” she mewled, her body squirming slightly at his touch.

“You like that, don’t you? When I squeeze your slutty tits like this, don’t you?” Parker felt a shudder run down his spine at the pleasant, ecstatic almost, feeling of Jessica’s boobs giving way to his hands, massaging and kneading the soft skin. The surge of arousal from the action might’ve shown on Parker’s face, but at this point, he didn’t really care. “Tell me, what good are these tits on your chest?”

“F-For your pleasure, Master,” Jessica replied, her breaths starting to deepen. Parker could see the lust cloud her eyes, something he let himself feel even more turned on by.

“That’s right. Your nipples are so hard too,” Parker noted, giving the two hardened nubs a firm pinch. Jessica quickly moved her hands over her mouth, muffling a surprised half-yelp half-moan, her body again jumping at the sudden injection of pleasure. “You like that, when I pinch your nipples?”

“Yes, Master~” she almost sang out, her eyes laser focused on his hands.

“But why do you deserve to have them pinched again? Have you been a good girl?”

“Yes, please Master, I’ve been a good girl.” Her pleading eyes searched for Parker when he took his hands off, her hands beginning to reach out but stopping partway after remembering his earlier warning.

“Why? You brought me here, to the bedroom of you and your husband, with him working in the office just a few steps away, just to insist that I fuck you. Tell me why you deserve anything if you’re being such a naughty girl.”

Parker knew he was pushing the envelope here. Fortunately, Jessica seemed to be into it, adamantly playing along.

“I-I just wanted to make Master happy because it’s been an entire week since last time. I also wanted to offer you myself as a gift for the holidays, and…” Jessica’s voice grew timid, something that almost shocked Parker out of the roleplay, “…and was hoping Master could gift me with his cum in return.”

Parker could feel his impatience growing, giving her boobs one final squeeze before reaching down, holding his painfully erect cock in his hands and guiding it to her entrance. “I appreciate the thought, but I still need to punish you for how needy you are.” As if to prove a point, Parker rubbed his shaft along her slit, slick with her own juices already. Jessica preened at the contact, a surge of arousal exploding from her nether regions and directly into her brain.

“Ooh, Master…” she panted, her fists now tightly clenched at her sides, her back arched and her boobs pressed against Parker, who was hovering barely a few inches above the mattress in an effort to keep the blanket over them. Her hips bucked wildly, only achieving greater contact with the underside of Parker’s cock. “Master…”

“Hm? What’s wrong?”

Jessica’s eyes opened up, filled with an insatiable lust and desire, searching Parker’s eyes for mercy. “Master, please…”

“Please…?”

“Please, I want Master’s graceful penis inside my tight, wet cunt; I want Master to stretch my tiny pussy with his huge cock and fill me up, I want Master’s cock to ram into my womb and destroy my undeserving pussy, I want to feel Master’s balls slapping against my ass and I want to feel Master’s cum spill into my slutty snatch and stir up my insides with your hot, thick semen.”

He wasn’t expecting that string of words, but Parker certainly welcomed it. “Hmm, good girl.” Parker brought his hand up to her face, letting Jessica lean into his palm and rub her face against it as if she were a cat, shortly before swiftly plugging up her awaiting hole.

“Ah, Master!”

Parker promptly removed his hand, using it to give her another sharp slap across her face. “I told you to be quiet, bitch. Did I not?”

“I’m sorry Master, I’m so sorry Master…”

“Tell me, what punishment does my slutty sex toy get for being so loud?”

“Muffle me with your fingers.”

“Hmm, good choice.”

Parker, following Jessica’s directive, brought his left hand to her waiting lips, waiting for them to part before plunging three of his digits straight in. It wasn’t a few seconds before they were completely drenched in her saliva, her lips clamped slightly past the second joint, her tongue running along its length, dancing circles around the three digits. Her eyes never broke contact with Parker’s, who started to rev up the action down below as well. He at first cautiously increased his speed, and upon noticing that the bed indeed made zero indication of the adulterous activity happening atop it, ramped it up explosively. With his other hand on her breasts, his cock glided in and out of Jessica’s wet snatch with ease, each long and hard thrust causing bits of her honey to spray out onto Parker’s groin.

“Hmm fuck, your pussy feels so fucking good, god it’s so tight, did you miss my cock that much?”

Parker retracted his fingers from her mouth, her tongue lolling out almost as if in protest to their exit. “Yes Master, I’ve been thinking about your cock so much, thank you for gracing my pussy with it.”

“Do you promise to be quiet without my fingers in your mouth?” “I-I don’t know, Master, your dick feels so good inside me I might accidentally let something out…”

Understanding this was Jessica’s indirect way of directing him, he acquiesced. “We can’t have that, can we?” This time, when he brought his left hand to her mouth, he shoved his pinky alongside the three other fingers, his thumb resting along her baby-smooth cheek.

Parker could feel his breath grow ragged, wave after wave of pleasure assaulting him at the feeling of Jessica’s hot walls convulsing against the length of his shaft, the fleshy material slathering it with enough lubricant to counteract its gradual tightening around the intrusive object.

Somehow, amidst the panting and the slight gagging noises and the lust clouding his mind, Parker somehow managed to pick up the faint sound of footsteps from the other side of the door. The reminder jarred Parker awake, taking the moment to throw aside his shame and guilt to warn Jessica. “Hunter.”

The one word was enough to snap Jessica out of it too, Parker extracting his fingers from her mouth and his dick from her pussy. Jessica guided him under the blanket, instructing him to curl up at her torso level. She had her back against the door, Parker’s body in fetal position pressed flush against Jessica’s stomach, her boobs resting on his head, her legs and arms wrapping around his body securely, when the door opened.

“Hey Jess, just checking in to see if you guys needed anything—where’s Parker?”

Parker could hear his heart desperately pumping blood throughout his body, which was in a frozen state of shock, fear, anxiety, and a mess of other emotions.

“He’s in the bathroom.”

Hearing her voice turn on a dime like that was honestly pretty amazing to Parker. If she really wanted to, maybe she could be an actress—she certainly had the face and body for it. Something Parker, unfortunately, knew much too well.

“Ah, OK. Well, if he needs anything, tell him to let me know. I gotta jump back into the meeting, take care!”

Hearing Hunter taking his wife’s words at face value so quickly only demotivated Parker even more. By the time Hunter closed the door, he felt like he was drowning in guilt.

“He’s gone,” Jessica notified Parker a short while after the sound of the office door closing could be heard. “You can come out now.”

Parker emerged from the stuffy covers, laying on the bed next to her. “I—I can’t do this, Jessica.”

“Aww, does my baby need mommy to help him?”

Jessica slyly climbed atop Parker, swinging her legs around his waist and trapping them between her velvety legs. “Jessica, we already almost—”

Jessica shushed him, placing a slender index finger on his lips. “It’s OK. Mommy can take over from here. You did so well up until now, but mommy is greedy and still wants your milk. Do you think you can do that? Give mommy’s kitty cat your milk?”

“I don’t—”

“Ah ah,” she quickly cut him off, reaching down to grab his slippery member, “Call me ‘mommy’, baby.”

It felt so wrong on so many levels, but Parker knew Jessica wasn’t going to relent. So, between the choice of speaking or calling Jessica ‘mommy’, he elected not to speak at all.

This was something Jessica was clearly not content with as she repeated, “Try it. Call me ‘mommy’, and mommy will reward you.” She gave his cock a few pumps for good measure, a hiss nearly escaping Parker’s lips at the sudden surge of ecstasy shooting up his body.

“Hunter’s—”

Jessica immediately interrupted him again. “Bad boy. You know what happens to disobedient children, right? They get punished.” With that, Jessica lowered her head onto his neck, planting a chaste kiss along it before baring her teeth at it.

Realizing what she was about to do, Parker opened his mouth. “Mommy, I’m sor—ah!” a muted yelp escaped from his lips as Jessica’s teeth bit down on the soft skin, nibbling on it for a few seconds before letting go. When she raised her head again, a clear red mark could be seen on his neck.

“I’m sorry baby, but I can’t just let a naughty boy do whatever he wants. You understand, right?”

“Y-Yes, mommy…” it just felt wrong, hearing the words coming out of his mouth, but he didn’t want to find out what further punishment awaited should he disobey again.

“Good boy. Mommy will keep her promise and reward you,” she said, using her hands to push her boobs up to him at face level. Parker accepted the offer, taking her soft breasts into his mouth, his lips running across the sensitive skin and his tongue slathering it with his saliva. “Mmm, that feels so good baby…”

Without so much as a warning, Jessica plunged herself onto his cock. A muted moan emanated from Jessica’s lips, her body shuddering as his girthy cock hilted Jessica’s pussy once again. Parker could definitely feel the effects of Hunter’s visit: compared to before, Jessica’s pussy was definitely tighter. “Oh baby, your penis is so big, you fill mommy up so well~” Her legs tightened their hold of his hips, gaining better leverage to pull herself up before slamming back down onto his crotch. “Join me baby, help mommy feel good.”

Parker proceeded to meet Jessica’s next thrust with a thrust of his own, Jessica murmuring lustful gibberish as their paces gradually increased. “Oh baby, your cock makes mommy feel so good. Mommy loves feeling your thick, veiny cock stretching mommy’s little pussy and feeling your penis kiss my womb. Baby, mommy’s starting to lose her mind, oh my god, it’s so good … oh baby, you’re so hard inside me, mommy’s kitty cat wants every drop of milk you have, be a good boy and shoot it all inside mommy.”

Parker refused to reply, instead focusing solely on matching Jessica’s wild pace. It wasn’t long before it returned to what it was before, Jessica’s gradually increasing voice muffled when she pushed Parker’s head back onto the pillow beneath and captured his lips in her own. Her velvety lips pressed firmly against his own, her spongey tongue entering his mouth and rubbing against his tongue. Parker could feel her hot breath against his, her luscious lips fiercely massaging his lips, the kiss growing wilder by the second. His arousal built and built, but the rate of Jessica’s increasingly tightening womanhood told him she was closer.

Jessica released their lip lock, the thick blanket draped over her slim shoulders. “Mommy is so close baby, just a little more, mommy’s going to cum, oh god…!” She quickly dove down, pressing her lips against his once again to muffle the ecstatic scream erupting from her body, her lower regions similarly erupting as a violent stream of her cum sprayed all over Parker’s cock, dripping out onto Parker’s legs and groin. Her entire body shuddered, shaking with the cadence of her orgasm, riding it out on Parker’s dick. However, when she finished, she barely slowed down at all, only removing her lips from his. “Come on baby, be a good boy and give mommy your milk, OK?”

In accordance to her wishes, Parker hastily warned her before a stream of the viscous, white liquid ejaculated directly into Jessica’s awaiting vagina. Jessica’s facial features contorted in pleasure, her thrusting growing even more wild and animalistic, rope after rope of his hot semen pouring into the ecstatic woman. “Oh god, it’s so hot, fuck, oh my god…” when his orgasm died down, Jessica’s motions grinded to a halt, planting her face on his sturdy chest. “Mommy is so happy, thank you baby.”

“Um, mommy?”

“Hmm?”

“I need to go to the bathroom.”

Jessica hummed for a bit, candidly rubbing her cheek against his warm torso. “Sure, go ahead. And you don’t have to call me ‘mommy’ anymore.”

She unmounted him, shuddering as a stream of their mixed juices dribbled out of her hole in response to its unstopping, and laid down on the bed next to him. However, she summarily stopped him when Parker went to go reach for his clothes.

“What are you doing?”

“If Hunter walks back in while I’m exiting the bathroom and sees me naked, don’t you think the first thing he’ll assume is that I’m taking advantage of your weakened state and banish me from interacting with you ever again? You don’t want that, right?”

Jessica pondered for a second before eventually agreeing, allowing Parker to put his shirt and pants back on—without his boxers—and go into the bathroom. As Parker sat down on the toilet seat, he buried his head in his hands, gritting his teeth. There was a twisting kind of sensation deep in his chest, the guilt of having sex with his best friend’s wife while he was diligently working in the other room, having trusted him to ‘take care’ of Jessica, eating at him. Parker knew he could only hide in the bathroom for so long, but nonetheless was surprised when Jessica called out his name.

“Parker?”

He swore under his breath. Surely, that was loud enough for Hunter to hear—but without any context, it could just be heard as Jessica calling for Parker because she needed something from him, not as the warning for him to stop hiding in the bathroom as it was intended to be.

“Sorry, I’m coming,” he shouted back, flushing the toilet despite not having used it, washing his hands and returning to the bedroom.

“Nice try,” Jessica smirked when he got closer, speaking in a low enough tone that Hunter wouldn’t be able to hear, “Don’t think we’re anywhere near done yet though.”

Next part here.

#jessica jung #smut #snsd #soshi #snsd smut #kpop smut #Soiling Mr. Innocent #blackmail #dirty talk #mommy k!nk

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orpheusluvr · 1 month ago

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Embarrassment Kink (Fool’s Gold x Female Reader)

NSFW WARNING

(Just a head’s up, you and Fool’s Gold engage in public intimacy but you’re both covered so dw)

Rumours have been spreading around the manor that a certain survivor has been “hitting it off” with a hunter. No one other than you and Fool’s Gold. And he wants to give everyone a taste of what’s going behind closed doors, even if it means embarrassing you both in the process.

“Shameful.”

That’s the one word you kept hearing.

I mean yes, it was shameful that you had a very intimate relationship with a hunter. But you couldn’t help yourself. Fool’s Gold was a much more dominant and aggressive version of Norton, and he drove you crazy each time. Of course, he was caring too. But he had a different way of showing it.

“Y/N?” Norton gently tapped your shoulder. You immediately jumped and turned around.

You failed to meet his eyes, looking down at the ground and hanging your head in shame.

He went forward and embraced you into a tight hug.

“I’m sorry that everyone found out. My counterpart just couldn’t shut up about it for once.” He whispered.

“Why did he have to tell everyone?” You said, barely whispering.

“He just loves to boast about his possessions. It boosts his ego.” Norton sighed.

He cupped your face with his hands.

“Don’t worry though, they’re just rumours. Not everyone knows if it’s true or not. As long as he-”

“Well, well. What’s going on here?” Fool’s Gold appeared between you and Norton. He glared at Norton.

“You can go now. I’m going to deal with her.” He said.

“You sicken me.” Norton said, shaking his head. He gave you an apologetic look before heading off.

“Hey, you’re the one who caused my existence, remember?” Fool’s Gold called out after him, giving a laugh.

Norton’s face dropped after immediately remembering the mining incident, a traumatic look painted across his face. He clenched his fists, then continued walking.

“That hit a nerve.” Fool’s Gold continued to laugh. He then turned back towards you, lifting you up.

“My sweet treasure, I’m going to let the whole world know who you belong to.” He said, kissing you.

A crowd began gathering in the hallway of the manor, whispers heard among them.

“So the rumours ARE true.”

“I feel disappointed.”

“How could something like this even happen?”

You looked at Fool’s Gold with sadness in your eyes.

“Do you enjoy seeing them talk about us like this?” You said, your voice cracking as a tear rolled down your cheek.

He wiped the tear with his cold, hard hands. The rock texture grazed against your cheek.

“Darling, don’t let their words get to you. They mean nothing.” He reassured you.

He sat on the ground, placing you onto his lap. You froze in place as you watched the survivors stare at you with shocked filled gazes.

“Yes, fellow survivors. The rumours are true. Y/N and I share a very special bond.” He called out.

You heard rustling underneath you, and then you felt his hand slide up your dress.

“She belongs to me…”

Fool’s Gold positioned you over his cock.

“…and only me.” He said, slamming you against it.

You were about to let out a loud moan, but immediately covered your mouth with your hand.

“Darling, what are you doing? Don’t be so shy, let everyone know how much you’re desperate and needy for me.” Fool’s Gold cooed, nibbling on your ear.

He slammed his hips upwards, completely filling you up with his huge length and signalling to you to start moving on him. You threw your head back and closed your eyes, slowly grinding against him as your moans muffled with the sound of the survivor’s shocked gasps and whispers. You were eventually so lost in the pleasure that you completely forgot that they were even there, grabbing onto Fool’s Gold’s hair and moaning his name while he grabbed onto your hips and sucked on your neck.

Eventually, the crowd became empty so it was just you and Fool’s Gold. With one last thrust, he released in you, filling your pussy with his cum. You released right after him, your juices mixing together, symbolising your strong bond.

You sat gasping for air in his lap, while he was still inside you. His face was flushed, a deep red hue completely contrasting to his physique. He kissed your cheek.

“You did good, my beloved treasure.” He whispered.

Norton eventually found you both, shaking his head.

“Great, now everyone knows that you were telling the truth.” He glared at Fool’s Gold.

“Good. That’s what I intended to do.” Fool’s Gold said, with a smirk.

#identity v fanfic #identity v x you #idv smut #idv x reader #idv x you #identity v x reader #idv fanfic #norton campbell #identity v norton #idv norton #identity v fool's gold #idv fool's gold

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wildflowerblurbs · 2 months ago

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A Light for the Knight of Shadows | Isaac Rhoades

Isaac Rhoades x GN! Mythic! Reader

CW: mentions of past trauma/mistreatment, reader feeling anxious, minor injuries

A/N: wrote this ages ago and recently found it in my drafts; please disregard any mistakes.

“I’ve been lying to you.”

Isaac freezes in his chair before quickly relaxing and placing the documents he’d been reading on the desk. He slowly turns towards you, motioning for you to come closer.

“You certainly know how to get my attention,” Isaac replies nervously. You could tell he was wary despite his playful words. “What have you been lying about, exactly?”

You fidget in front of him, not quite able to look at him while you contemplate just how you’d broach the subject of who you were—or rather what you were.

Thanks to the stupid rules of your kind, you couldn’t outright tell him what you were. Something about “ignorance being bliss” or however that human saying goes. It was a safety issue. Hunters can’t hunt what they don’t know.

Truthfully, if someone had told you that you’d be in this position six months ago—telling a human of your true identity—you would’ve laughed in their face and reported them to the elders for even suggesting a thing. Well, to be fair, you would’ve done anything to get in the elder’s good graces six months ago, but that’s not the point. Details don’t really matter. What matters is the forbiddenness of what you’re doing.

It’s a bad idea, really. Humans are fickle creatures and there’s no guarantee Isaac’s love will last. You’d waited until he finally opened up enough to begin a relationship with you, but—disregarding the fact that your kind isn’t even supposed to fall in love with humans—that doesn’t mean much in the grand scheme of things. He’s human. Or at least, that’s what you kept telling yourself.

The guilt of keeping this from him was easier when he held you at arm’s length, when the possibility of him throwing you out was high. But things changed. He opened up, slowly but surely, and even revealed his biggest secret. A secret that killed his family and destroyed his innocence. A secret that wasn’t a secret to you.

When he showed you the video of the werewolf, you’d tried to respond in a way that didn’t alert him to your own extended knowledge on the topic, of a life that most humans don’t know about. You’d questioned the validity of the video, both because you weren’t sure if it was created by some human to create chaos and because, if it truly was real, you wanted to gauge his opinion on the matter. You wanted to know if he believed it was real.

Despite his suspicious nature, he did end up believing the validity of the video. Was it perhaps because he wanted to believe the thing that killed his parents wasn’t some sort of practical joke? Maybe, but that doesn’t really matter either.

He knew creatures like you were out there, which makes it easier to approach telling him the truth of your existence but also a lot harder at the same time. The shock won’t be from your existence, but rather that you kept it from him.

Moreover, when it comes to the logistics of your exact conversation, there are a few major issues.

There is no name for what you are. Names and identifying information are forbidden. Any utterance of information on your kind is immediately quelled before it leaves your mouth. Your throat closes up and you’re left a sputtering mess. Writing anything down is out of the question as well, your hands only producing incoherent scratches and marks if you tried. It’s a curse, you suppose—and an inconvenient one at that—but also an effective way to hide. And an effective way to lose the man you love if you don’t hurry up and say something already.

You must’ve been quiet for too long because Isaac had long since abandoned his chair and walked over to you when you heard his voice again.

“You… don’t need to force yourself to tell me if it’s difficult. I’m well aware that some secrets are best kept hidden. It’s my job to pry, but you’re not a case to be opened. You more than have the agency to tell me what you wish.”

At his words, you finally look up at him. His face is a mixture of concern and the same wariness as before.

“It doesn’t feel fair. You’ve told me things you’ve tried to keep hidden for years and yet here I am struggling to tell you something so important.”

At this, you feel Isaac’s hand gently lift your chin.

“Have you been spying on me this entire time?”

The shock must’ve been evident on you face at his question.

“No, of course not!”

“Were you sent by an enemy organization?”

“Isaac, you know that’s not the case.”

“You’re right. I do know that’s not the case.”

“Then why are you—?”

“I’ve long since accepted you for who you are, for everything you are. You don’t need to hide from me. Whatever it is you’ve been lying about, I know it was never to hurt me.” You could feel Isaac move closer, closing the gap between you two. “And even if you did try to hurt me, my heart is yours to hurt. Call it unhealthy, but I wasn’t lying when I said that you were now my motivation to live. Do whatever you need to soothe your aching heart. I’ll be here to bear it all.”

You weren’t sure which one of you moved first, but before you knew it his lips were on yours. It wasn’t like one of the kisses you’d share to greet each other or show affection, this kiss was full of something else. It conveyed the love he professed to you moments before, but it was also vulnerable. Isaac’s heartbeat was more honest about his feelings than he was. You could feel his heart pounding. He was anxious despite his comforting words.

After you pull away, you decide you’d let the suspense go on for far too long. His words had finally let you find your resolve.

“Follow me,” you ordered as you pulled Isaac outside of his office. While he normally would’ve teased you for sudden boldness, Isaac knew to keep quiet and let you lead, something you quite appreciated.

He didn’t question you as you lead him into your shared bedroom. Originally quite bare and minimalist, you’d added your own charm to the bookshelves and wooden furniture that furnished the room. Isaac welcomed your changes, even if he still pauses upon seeing your stuffed animals or displayed collection of fairy tale figurines. It’s not a bad pause by any means, but rather one of disbelief. His room had never been this lively before you. It now had evidence of your shared existence.

“Ok, I need you to bear with me. This isn’t something I can outright tell you,” you warn as you finally let go of his hand and shut the door.

He simply nods and waits for whatever you’re planning to do. It’s not until you start to take off your cardigan and shirt that he shows any kind of reaction besides his existing nervousness.

“What are you—?” Isaac starts but is immediately cut off by a large flash a light and sudden blast of wind that would’ve knocked him down if not for the door behind him.

Suddenly, the fact that you are shirtless in front of him is the last thing on his mind. He has bigger issues to discuss, namely the wings that were now sprouting out of your back.

He is speechless as he takes in your new form. Your wings are birdlike—white like a dove’s but don’t look nearly as soft. Rather, the feathers look sharp enough to cut him if he were to touch them, a risk he’s debating taking as he continues to look at you, enthralled by what he’s seeing.

You stand in silence for a few moments, waiting for him to finally say something. You look for any signs of fear or anger, but only see pure amusement.

“…An angel…,” he manages to breathe out.

You don’t even try to speak. Confirming or denying his claim is just as forbidden as outright telling him what you are yourself. Instead, you walk over to him, taking note of how he steps back—an impulse even he can’t shake—and immediately freezing in your spot.

You lower your wings, not wanting to intimidate him. They weren’t as big as the others of your kind—a reason why you were cast out—but they’d seem big to anyone who’d never seen them before. Hell, the wings themselves are intimidating.

At seeing your attempt to make yourself smaller, Isaac walks towards you.

It wasn’t just the wings that were different about you. Your skin was glowing, radiating a soft light that was unlike anything he’d ever seen before. Your eyes were sharper, not quite glowing but still brilliant enough to notice. It was like your entire being was made up of light. It was all so inhuman.

Despite this—or maybe because of it—Isaac doesn’t hesitate in gently placing his hands on your both sides of your face, caressing the soft skin.

“I’m not who I said I was, Isaac,” you say finally, almost too quiet to hear.

“Strange, I don’t ever recall you ever claiming to be human,” was his response.

You look up at him in disbelief. His tone was playful, but his eyes showed something different. You’d figured he was delirious from the shock, but he was quite serious.

“I don’t understand. You’re…ok with this? That I kept this from you?”

Isaac pauses for a second to think before be responds.

“After my grandfather showed me the video, I spent months trying to find as much information on the supernatural as possible. I didn’t follow any threads that would put on their radar, but not knowing anything about these creatures that I was suddenly now aware of was difficult. I needed to do something to ease the uncertainty I was facing.”

He had moved his hands from your face, opting to hold yours instead, squeezing them in comfort.

“The research I did was quite extensive and I managed to find quite a lot of information once I weeded out the websites and blogs that were obviously written by humans who had no idea what they were talking about. There were hundreds of entries, both by creatures writing about themselves and by those who hunt them.”

His face hardens.

“The hunting records were endless. Reports of entire clans being massacred, the best ways to torture every kind of creature you could think of, their strengths and weaknesses, the trafficking of supernatural creatures for purposes of protection or… other unsavory reasons. All of these records claiming that the supernatural are dangerous, yet only showing the cruelty towards them at the same time. I thought that the video of the werewolf being tortured was bad, but it was nothing compared to what I found afterwards.”

His expression becomes intense as he brings you close to him, minding the wings as best as he can.

“You know my stance when it comes to human nature. We are weak compared to the supernatural, but we aren’t innocent by any means. Humans are cruel and seek out any and all kinds of power for the sake of their own advancement... You were protecting yourself. I can’t blame you for that.”

You weren’t sure when it started, but his final words made you realize that you’d started crying. Once coming to this realization, you bury yourself further into his chest, feeling his arms hold you tighter to him as well, now letting your wings cut him as much as they want.

“You’re you. It doesn’t matter if you’re not human. Everything you’ve shown me in the time we’ve known each other has only proven that you’re better than any other human could be—even without having so-called ‘humanity.’ I love you. That hasn’t changed, nor would it have changed over something like this to begin with.”

You pull back slightly and he wipes the tears from your eyes as you finally speak up again.

“You really mean it? This doesn’t bother you?”

At this, Isaac looks offended that you’d even ask those questions.

“My feelings for you aren’t so fickle that they’d disappear over something like this,” he asserts with a tinge of a tease in his voice, hoping to lighten the mood. “It doesn’t matter what you are, you are mine—”

He pauses and lifts your chin once again.

“—and I am yours,” he finally finishes.

When he leans over to kiss you, you let him take over, trusting his words fully as he shows you his determination. Your mind is a blur of all kinds of emotions as you melt into his soft yet somehow still firm hold. When you finally pull away, you’re breathless from the sheer intensity of it all.

It’s also once you pull away that you realize you’ve been shirtless for the entirety of this conversation. Suddenly embarrassed, you shift back into your wingless form—much to Isaac’s disappointment—and rush to pick up the shirt you were wearing to put it back on.

As you quickly—and shyly—put on your shirt, you take notice of Isaac’s own appearance, or rather the cuts covering his arms where he’d made contact with your wings. Your eyes widen as you rush over, apologetic over having hurt him unintentionally.

Before you can say anything or apologize, Isaac cuts you off: “Don’t. I did this to myself. Besides, they’re more like scratches than anything. It’s nothing to worry about.”

He sighs as he sees your guilty expression. An expression he reasons is due to his injuries, but is rather something much deeper.

“…The first aid-kit is in the bathroom. You can patch me up if you’d like.”

You perk up at his offer, quickly rushing to the bathroom to grab the first-aid kit as he’d requested. It’s not hard to find by any means—meant to be easily accessible for emergencies—but you’re delayed by your own thoughts.

You should’ve been defeated by the fact that you couldn’t heal him in the same way others of your kind easily could’ve in your position. You should’ve wished to be as strong as them, to be worthy of calling yourself [redacted], but for once in your life you weren’t.

Here you were, living a life with a man who loves and accepts you for who you are. Even if it’s just the two of you, you finally have a home and family. You have a purpose, whether it be being Isaac’s life partner or a private investigator. You were actually glad to have been cast out, to have been abandoned and left to fend for yourself. All of the pain and suffering—

“Having trouble finding it? I’ll try looking for it downstairs. I may have left it down there.”

You smiled to yourself. Right, you had a job to do. This reflection can come later.

“Nope, it’s right here! I’ll be there in a bit!”

The day would come when you’d finally grow strong enough to protect the two of you, to tell Isaac of your upbringing and the reason why you were cast out—or at least as much as you were allowed to—but that would come in due time. Right now, you’d help in the way you knew how, and that was more than enough.

#isaac rhoades x reader #isaac rhoades #sakuverse #mythical reader #zsakuva

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qierxing · 3 months ago

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Determination

A/N: Finished the LaDs story if you couldn’t tell. If you asked what came over me to write this, I could not tell you because truly I think I was in a trance because I’m not exactly a Sylus stan Yan! Sylus/Qin Che x Reader Forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest. CW/TW: Dub//Con touching, Manipulation, Power Imbalances, Disability issues, Unhealthy relationships, Obsessive behavior, Reader is not in-game MC but MC is referenced and reader is lowkey Longing(THEY HAVE TWO HANDS OKAY), kind of Alt! AU following the storyline

—

From the moment you were born, your life had been planned out to the end.

You would grow up, become useful, and then once you lost your usefulness; be ushered to handling petty things to earn your right to exist, and then you would die. Just like everyone else in the N-109 zone. Cremated or dissolved, of course. No one is dumb enough to leave behind evidence or traces, or even worse, parts for grave robbers with no morals and a penchant for quick gold. That was simply the circle of life here.

Your future had been set in stone as soon as your father had settled here. On some particularly trying days, you resent him for it. Other days, you know enough that he had no choice.

“Is the old man in?”

The voice makes you tense reactively before you relax, recognizing the familiar low cadence.

“He’s out on an errand, should I pass on your message?”

The leader of Onychinus and your boss by proxy, shakes his head. You didn’t bother to ask twice. Your focus once again is drawn back to the shiny red protocore on your desk. It’s a tiny thing; requiring meticulous care, lest it be shattered by too much pressure.

“Is there something I can do for you while you’re here then?”

A shuffle, then several clinks in your hearing peripheral. He must be looking through the backlog or the recent projects. It’s a habit whenever he felt restless and after some time, you learned to push down the feeling like your work was being dissected bit by bit by his intimidating eyes.

The prolonged silence makes you forget your own question, too engrossed in the protocore in front of you. When Sylus speaks again, a tremor runs though your hands and make you almost lose your grip.

“What do you think I should do with a kitten that keeps hissing at me?”

You look over with wide eyes. Of course, there can only be one thing he’s referring to–the fact that the Onychinus’s leader is in possession of a valuable asset is not a secret. An outsider, of all things, too. Some would shake their heads in pity, others would sneer and say she had only herself to blame, and even more would only care once her dead body was laid bare and the aether core in their hands.

To you, though? You thought she was amazing.

She was like the chivalrous heroes in the few scrappy picture books your father had. Dashing, fearless, and always fighting for justice. What was it like to be a hunter? You’ve never seen her, yet you daydream constantly about the life she led, and how you wished it could be yours.

“I feed some stray cats here and there. They usually warm up once they realize I’m not a threat and I’m trying to help them.” The sincere advice has him snorting in cynical disbelief.

“And if that kitty still shows their claws?” You shift uncomfortably at the way his voice dips. When he was angry, Sylus was terrifying. But he wasn’t angry, not yet, and you wish you weren’t the factor that could change that right now.

“Usually time will do its work.” You try to sound casual, but you can feel Sylus’s eyes piercing through you. You try to swallow the saliva clogging your mouth. You don’t want to imagine what kind of methods the boss would utilize to make people talk. You distanced yourself from such violence, even if it was naive and stupid to do so. Still, there was a clear difference from self-defense and actively inflicting violence. The twins that shadowed Sylus made that crystal clear.

“Hmm…if you say so.” The heavy gaze lifts off of you and it’s like a weight lifts off your throat, letting air back into your lungs.

Another few seconds pass in silence, with you praying for nothing else of note will happen.

”The old man told me that you’ll be benched soon.”

The pointed sentence makes your hands freeze. The bright gold protocurve gleams in the dim workshop, and for a moment, the blood rushing your ears is all you can hear.

“I’ve been unable to keep up with the workload, sir.” You keep your eyes firmly fixed on the ruby red core, forcing your hands to keep moving while you modify the curve. “I don’t think I can be any more help to my dad.”

Not entirely a full lie. You’re not sure if it’s because the rough and tough life of N-109 is wearing you down like sandpaper or if it’s your body collapsing in on itself due to its condition, but most days it’d be a miracle if you could get one modification done without mistakes.

One time when you were still an immature child, you disobeyed your father and snuck out of the house during dawn. Your life had always been the pitch black of night, with the brightest natural light being the moon and its silvery clouds wrapping around it like a translucent shawl. When you asked your dad what happened when you slept, he simply stated the moon also went to bed. So then, what exactly happened while it slept?

The sun was blinding. It seared you to the bone as the heat increased with the hours passing and it rose above the horizon. It was so hot, yet you could not help but feel at peace, as if the rays were cleansing you. The landscape under its light was depressing as usual; metal scraps and rusted junk scattered and embedded in dull colored dirt and rocks. This much didn’t surprise you, but it still reminded you of the bleakness of your world.

It made you feel helplessly trapped.

“If that’s the case, why didn’t you talk to me?”

You blink once, then twice at Sylus standing in front of you, with an unreadable expression on his face. He had stated it as if it was common sense to bring up a grievance with him. As if he wasn’t the most terrifying power within the N-109 zone. As if you and your father weren’t subject to his whims.

”I…I’m sorry,” your eyes cast downward in guilt again. You wish your boss was as evil as some of the rumors make him out to be. It would make things so much easier. “I just didn’t think you need to be bothered with something this trivial.”

If possible, the expression on his face sours even more. “One of my researchers is not trivial. You help me, and I help you.”

You bite your tongue. Of course he was practical. It is true. Without you and your father, he would lose a quarter of his manpower in tech. But this just hardens your resolve even further.

“Thank you for your concern, sir,” you plaster a sickeningly polite smile on, straining to keep the facade of a lackey who was happy to live another day. “But it’s alright—even if I can’t directly assist my father anymore, I can find other ways to be helpful.”

Why you were significant enough as a cog in his many machinations is still plain weird. But that doesn’t matter. Soon enough, you won’t be one if at all.

Sylus gives a bark of harsh laughter, startling you and making you drop one of your tools. Your skin crawled, but you willed yourself to stay calm, to maintain a calm demeanor that belied none of your true thoughts. It had been the only thing you kept from the many street smarts of N-109 when you grew up.

He reaches out his hand. His evol wraps crimson red smoke around his outstretched fingers, and when it clears, there’s a slip of crinkled white notebook paper. Your heart immediately plummets into your stomach.

”Are you sure it’s not because you finally found an out to this hellhole?”

You hadn’t fully realized it, but you’re no longer sitting, and the next thing you know, the world has flashed into white and ringing. You’re no longer even thinking at this point, running on pure adrenaline and instinct. Sylus may be the one running the show, but even he couldn’t know all of the labyrinth of secret exits this workshop had.

You got exactly ten steps in the direction of one before your face met the concrete floor. You don’t need to look to see what’s pinning you down. It’s almost insulting, but most of all, it’s aggravating to know how close freedom was in reach, only to be stopped short of it.

“You really thought something like that could stop me?” Sylus’s voice drawls above your struggling body. You’re wrenched up to stand in front of him, arms held up like a crucified deity. He fiddles with the now broken protocore in his fingers, turning it this way and that, so that the dim lights caught the cracked grooves and threw reflections on the grungy walls around you. Finally, he drops it and with a crack, his polished shoe has grinded it to nothing. “Well, it’s certainly a novel idea.”

You don’t bother to say anything, but a sob nearly wells up, just barely held back by clenched teeth. You were so, so close. Now you’ll never know what it felt to be in bright city lights and live a normal life.

“I thought it was clear that the only place you had was by my side.” Sylus clicks his tongue, tilting his head. You’re forced forward, and then your head was buried in his shoulder as his hands found their way onto your waist, tight and unyielding. The acrid smell of gunpowder and alcohol from his ironed button up makes your nose wrinkle and although you try to turn your head away, one of his hands presses your head even closer. “I should’ve known better that you would get your hopes up when that hunter came.”

Hot breath ghosts your neck, sending goosebumps up your skin, and before you could stop him, his teeth are buried inside tender flesh, making you cry out in pain. Your struggling starts up again, but Sylus doesn’t acknowledge it, instead lathering a lithe tongue over the wound, causing pleasurable shivers up your spine.

“Then, if you want to leave so badly, how about you stay with me?” he whispers with a tenderness that makes your head spin.

No matter how much you want it, you could not fight the fate that was set for you.

#yandere love and deepspace #yandere lads #yandere lnds #my works

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multi-fan-dom-madness · 4 months ago

Note

will you write a fanfic about hunter from the bad batch and a female character who is maybe a nurse in pabu involving falling in love? Love love love your work

thanks so much for your patience, nonny! I hope you like this one <3

Nervous Love

Summary: You're nervous about telling Hunter how you feel; turns out, so is he.

Warnings: this isn't 18+ but my blog is so minors scram as usual; can be read as f!reader but I wrote it as gn; medic!reader, anxiety, fluff, confessions, post-season 3

Word Count: ~1.9k

A/N: apparently the muse likes Hunter right now. that, and I hacked my brain by changing the document font to Courier. Dividers by me, @/saradika, and @/dystopicjumpsuit

Falling in love with Hunter was the easy part. Telling him is proving to be far more difficult than you anticipated.

The rhythmic, ceaseless crashing of waves against the shore counts out the hours of your life on Pabu. Lungs full of brine and fresh-baked bread and bacta, you pass your days in your small clinic. You’re one of a handful of refugees on the island with any real medical training; between the younglings’ usual bumps and bruises, and the more complicated injuries that come from fishing for the islanders’ meals, or building new abodes, or just generally existing in the galaxy, you and your fellow doctors keep busy. Busy, but not overwhelmed. Not like you had been on the ship fleeing your home.

Pushing away the unwelcome dark cloud of memories, you glance out the small window of the medical exam room. Between patients, you’ve taken to inventorying the supplies at your disposal, making notes on your comlink about what you need to restock, what’s missing, what could work better. It keeps you occupied, at least.

Because if you’re not occupied or busy, your thoughts turn to him.

Not that you’re complaining. Not really. Hunter saturates your thoughts, soaks into your marrow and makes a home there. In the short few months that he and his siblings have finally found peace on Pabu, you’ve grown quite close to him. No, the reason you want to avoid thinking about the handsome eldest brother isn’t for any bad reason; it’s because thinking of him requires thinking about telling him how you feel, how you truly feel. And that, more than anything, sets off flurries of anxious butterflies in your stomach. You’ve never loved anyone before—not like this. Part of that newness scares you.

As if summoned by your not-thoughts, there comes a familiar knock on your exam room door, a simple ascending pattern that no one else could know. Hot and cold rush through you in equal measures. Goosebumps prickle along your skin.

“It’s open,” you call.

You keep your back to the door as you finish cataloging the small bin of medical supplies. Yet you don’t need to see Hunter for your body to respond to his presence. You’d know him anywhere. He carries with him the faintest scent of aftershave and carbon residue; every nerve in your body aligns to him like a compass pointing north.

“Cyare.”

His husky voice sends a shiver zipping up your spine. Despite your anxiety, the smile that spreads over your face feels natural and as easy as breathing.

“Hunter,” you sigh.

Turning, you find his gray eyes already watching you. His hair’s started to grow out a little, and unless he cuts it soon, he’ll need to start tying it back. Today’s bandana is a deep cerulean that accentuates the glow of his skin and throws his skull tattoo into sharp relief. Part of you wants to tease him for abandoning his signature red; part of you wants to capture a holo of him in every color bandana he owns, each one better than the last.

One skeletal hand reaches for you. A furrow creases between his brows. “What’s wrong?”

Blinking at him, you take his hand. “Nothing. Why do you ask?”

If being nervous about telling your boyfriend you love him qualifies as ‘something wrong,’ then you’re a droid.

Hunter doesn’t seem satisfied, however. His palm is warm against yours, and he threads your fingers together, but his frown continues to tug on his features. In contrast, your smile widens at the additional contact.

“You feel...off,” he murmurs. His gaze searches your expression as if he can find the details of your woes in the lines of your face. “Heart rate is elevated. You haven’t been nervous like this since our third date, cyare.”

“Was there a question in there?” you ask. You should know better by now than to think you could hide everything from him. Doesn’t mean you won’t keep trying.

He gives you an aggrieved look. “No. Will you answer honestly if I ask?”

“Maybe,” you respond after a moment. Even you can feel how your heartbeat skips a beat or three, uncertain where he’s going with this. “Depends on the question.”

Shaking his head, he sighs. “Very funny. You’re off in an hour. Would you meet me at our beach?”

‘Your’ beach probably is the same beach as many other lovers on this isolated island, but you’ve never seen anyone else there at the same time. Tucked away by a line of cave-pocked cliffs on the eastern side of the island, the powdery sand and warm water is where you and Hunter shared many of your firsts. First date, first kiss, first time.

“Of course.” Stepping closer, you nudge his nose with yours. His heady musk fills your head. “If I ask a question, will you answer honestly?”

The smug little smirk that tugs at his lips makes your thighs press together. “Maybe. Depends on the question.”

Rolling your eyes, you lean more of your weight against him, bringing your faces ever closer. “What should I wear?”

“You could show up in these scrubs and it’d make no difference to me.”

“I’m not getting sand in my scrubs again.”

“Then wear whatever makes you happy, cyare.”

He finally closes the gap between you. Mouths slanting together, you both sigh into the kiss. It’s familiar, this give and take. Kissing Hunter makes your entire world come to a standstill, just for him. When his arm slides around your waist to pull you impossibly closer, you hum low in your throat, heat beginning to swirl through your veins.

“Hunter,” you warn, though there’s no real heat behind it. “I have a patient in five.”

“Mm, alright.” He pulls back, but doesn’t go very far. Cradling your face in both hands, his thumbs stroke slow arcs over your cheekbones. “I’ll see you at our beach.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the galaxy,” you say. Pecking his lips one more time, you reluctantly step out of his embrace to begin packing away your inventory project before your last patient of the day arrives. The anticipation of experiencing whatever it is he has planned at your beach makes the appointment go quickly.

Just over an hour later, changed into fresh, comfortable clothes, you wind your way down the final few walkways to the eastern part of the island. On the opposite shore, the sunset paints the sky a vivid orange, the ocean turned to liquid gold. But here, in the gathering darkness, you can’t help but beam up at the stars twinkling into existence above the horizon. The warm ocean breeze dances across your skin and invites you to play. Toeing out of your shoes as soon as you reach the beach proper, you dig your feet into the sand with a long, relaxed sigh.

You never expected to find a home quite like Pabu. Nor a partner quite like Hunter. But you can’t imagine life without either, now.

That same anxiety from earlier, about how to tell Hunter your feelings, returns, but it’s muted here. It’s almost like the island itself is trying to lull you into a state of calmness, trying to help you believe that love isn’t something to be feared.

You hope the island is right.

Bringing your gaze back down to Pabu firma, a delighted gasp gets drowned out in the rushing of the waves. Spread out on a dark blanket, lit by a few small electric lamps wired to flicker like fickle candles, reclines Hunter. Like you, he seems to have changed into far more comfortable clothes: loose-fitting cotton pants and flowy white shirt that gives just the slightest peek of his inked-in sternum. As you approach, he looks up with a smile.

“Mesh’la,” he says, just loud enough for your ears before the wind snatches the compliment away.

Lowering yourself onto the blanket, your teeth catch at your bottom lip. Hunter pushes up to sit cross-legged in front of you. In the low, unsteady light, sea salt and sand rimed along his ankles, he looks so... different from the soldier you first encountered all those months ago. Slowly, Pabu has changed Hunter. He’s gained necessary weight; the bags under his eyes aren’t quite so deep anymore. And you can feel how living here has changed you, too: no longer living just for yourself, just to see another day, but living for someone else, too. Someone else’s happiness. The realization makes your throat tighten with unexpected tears.

“Why’d you bring me here, Hunter?” you whisper.

He scoots closer. Your knees touch, warmth spreading through your body at those two points of contact. His gaze cuts away, over your shoulder, but you don’t follow it. He’s not looking at anything, not seeing anything, but searching nonetheless. Worry twists your stomach.

He ignores your question in favor of asking one himself. “If I ask you another question, mesh’la, will you be honest again?”

Heart thudding in your throat, you nod.

Those eyes you adore so much drift back to yours. “If- If I were to say that I love you, what would you say?”

Lashes fluttering, your lips part in surprise. Shocked into paying closer attention, you realize belatedly that the skin around his eyes is tight with anxiety, and that he holds himself straight-backed and stiff. He’s been just as worried about this as you have.

“I’d say that I love you too,” you answer. Even with his enhanced senses, he must struggle to hear you over the waves crashing just a few dozen feet away. “I’d say that I’ve loved you for a long time.”

He swallows. “I’d say I’ve loved you since you first smiled at me. Maybe I didn’t know it then, but my heart did. I’d say I asked you to come here, because telling you how I feel anywhere else would feel wrong.”

Warmth tingles in your fingertips. Shuffling closer, you lean forward just enough to cup his cheek in one hand, your other seeking out his touch. Though his eyes seem to have trouble remaining on yours, you wait patiently for him to meet your gaze again.

“Is that what you’re saying right now, Hunter?” You don’t dare speak any louder now. No one’s around, but you don’t want this to find any ears except his.

“Yes,” he gasps out.

Clambering into his lap a little clumsily, you wrap yourself around him in a tight hug. You bury your face into the crook of his neck and inhale his scent, inhale everything he is and make space for this new part of him he’s shared with you. It fits into the same space you’ve just given him.

“I love you,” you whisper against his heated skin.

“I love you,” he rumbles against your ear.

A shiver cascades over your body that has nothing to do with the way the ocean breeze has begun to cool off with the disappearance of the sun. “Say it again.”

“I love you,” he repeats, stronger this time. “With everything I am. With everything I ever will be.”

And as his admission settles into your bones and integrates into your DNA, for the life of you, you can’t figure out why you were so nervous about this.

Ragu list: to be added or removed, go here! if you've got a strike through your name, I can't tag you.

@dystopicjumpsuit @littlemissmanga @anxiouspineapple99 @wings-and-beskar

@sinfulsalutations @523rdrebel @sev-on-kamino @starrylothcat

@deejadabbles @starqueensthings @wizardofrozz @mythical-illustrator

@sleepycreativewriter @bobaprint @dickarchivist @a-single-tulip

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@mssbridgerton @isaidonyourknees @dreamie411 @jedi-hawkins

@dangraccoon @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @9902sgirl @zenrobbins0021

#tbb hunter x reader #hunter x reader #the bad batch x reader #tbb x reader #the clone wars x reader #rhiwrites #rhiplies #nervous love

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