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springtyme · 2 months

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Hey luv, hope all is well. So, I just previously read your spencer x girly!reader and I absolutely loved them. While reading the chess part, an idea sparked.

So if possible could you do something similar where Spencie boy and girly!reader are playing chess and she is obviously frustrated or something because she doesn’t understand. So being the amazing boy wonder he is, Spencer secretly acts like he had no good moves and the reader just starts pointing out the moves he could make not knowing he can clearly see those moves and he lets the reader win making her super excited and happy and immediately sets the board back and starts another game.

I just think it would be so cute to see how Spencer would just gaze at and admire the reader as she is focused and asks questions. If this is too confusing or too similar to the original chess part no worries. It’s simply a mere thought I had. Do with it what you please!!!

Love your works and your blog 🥰🤗

𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐁𝐨𝐲 ♡

Thank you so much, hun ♡ I't makes me so happy to hear that you liked the other ones, I've had so much fun with them. And thank you so much for this request, it's such a cute scenario!

Spencer Reid x girly!reader|| Masterlist || Spencer playlist

summary: Spencer truly can’t believe how lucky he is to have you in his life. With you, everything just feels so natural, despite him being in completely foreign waters. You keep being patient with him, every step of the way. With you, everything just falls into place, like the missing piece of a puzzle finally fitting snugly into its spot. All he ever want to do is make you smile, even when it means that he has to lose in chess on purpose. Part one & part two 💕

word count: 2.0k

a/n: I was actually in a chess club in school, but we did not play chess, so sorry if the chess parts aren’t very accurate, I tried my best, lol.

Spencer watches you intently, his heart swelling with adoration at the sight of you trying your best. He can see the determination in your eyes, the way you furrow your brow in concentration, and it only deepens the love he feels for you. Your stained lips pouting sweetly as you contemplate your next move

You let out an exasperated sigh, leaning back in your chair with a frustrated expression. “I just don’t understand this game, Spence. I feel like I’m making all the wrong moves,” you sigh, moving your knight in a random direction. “At this point I‘m just making moves for the sake of it.”

Spencer can’t help but smile at your frustration, finding it endearing how you get so worked up over a game of chess. Moving your knight wasn’t the best move you could have made, but he doesn’t want to tell you that, and it wasn’t the worst move either. He reaches out to gently place his hand on top of yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze, but he lets his fingers linger for a little while. It always manages to surprise him how soft your skin is, and how it feels so warm and comforting beneath his touch.

You look up at him, your pretty eyes meeting his gaze and Spencer feels how his heart skips a beat at the way your lashes flutter against your cheeks.

“Hey, don’t be so hard on yourself. Some people use their entire life to master this game, and you’ve only been playing for a few weeks,” he reminds you. “You’re doing great, and trust me, you’re not as lost as you think you are.”

You smile softly at his reassurance. “So, what I’m hearing you say is that if I keep going, there’s still a chance that I can be a big old chess nerd like you?” you tease, nudging him playfully.

Spencer chuckles at your teasing, loving the way you always manage to make him laugh, something he hasn’t always had an easy time with. “Hey, being a nerd isn’t that bad, okay?”

“No, it’s not,” you agree, leaning in closer to him. “In fact, I think it’s kind of cute.” Spencer’s heart flutters at your words, feeling a warmth spread through him at the way you look at him with such affection.

Spencer knows many things, arguably too many things, but he will never be able to understand what you see in him, you’re so beautiful and confident and always so kind to everyone, there is no doubt in his mind that you are way, way out of his league, but he is grateful every day that you, for whatever reason, chose him.

“I’m glad you think so,” he mumbles, a slight blush dusting his cheeks at your words.

“I actually think you’re very cute, you know,” you say playfully, reaching up to brush a stray lock of hair out of his face with a gentle touch. Spencer can feel his heart racing in his chest as he looks into your eyes, seeing nothing but love and admiration reflected back at him.

He leans in closer to you, unable to resist the magnetic pull that always seems to bring you both together. Your lips meet in a soft, tender kiss, filled with all the love and affection that Spencer feels for you. In that moment, nothing else matters except for the two of you and the way your hearts beat as one.

As you pull away, a smile tugs at the corners of Spencer’s lips, a smile that only you can bring out in him. “I love you,” he whispers, his voice filled with sincerity and warmth.

“I love you too, Spence,” you respond, your eyes shining with your own smile, bright and full of happiness.

Spencer will never be able to wrap his head around why you love him, but damn he is glad and forever grateful that you do. If he could travel back in time and tell his younger self that he would find someone as amazing and wonderful as you - that someone as beautiful and kind hearted as you would ever love him, he wouldn’t have believed it, he would probably think that it was some kind of cruel joke. But here you are.

It’s overwhelming, really, the love and adoration he feels for you in every fiber of his being. He never knew he could feel this way about someone, never knew that someone could make him feel so alive and complete. The fact that he feels so at home and normal with another person in his life is beyond anything he could have ever imagined.

But with you, everything just feels so natural, despite him being in completely foreign waters, you keep being patient with him every step of the way and with you by his side, it doesn’t seem so daunting anymore. With you, everything just falls into place, like the missing piece of a puzzle finally fitting snugly into its spot.

“Oh, you got something…” you whisper, almost more to yourself than him. He is confused for a short second, until he feels your thumb brush against the corner of his mouth, wiping away the trace of lipstick that had transferred from your lips to his. Spencer chuckles at the realization, feeling a warm rush of affection for you. “There…” you say with a soft smile.

Spencer can’t help but chuckle at the tender gesture, feeling a surge of warmth behind his chest.

“You can’t keep distracting me like this,” you tease, leaning in closer to him with a mischievous glint in your eye. “I’m actually trying to beat you at this game, you know.”

Spencer’s smile widens at your playful tone, a twinkle in his eye as he looks at you. “Who says I’m going to make it easy for you?” he responds, his voice laced with amusement.

“You did! You literally said that you would go easy on me,” you pout, crossing your arms in mock annoyance.

Spencer laughs, a sound that fills the room with joy. “Okay, okay, I may have said that,” he concedes, “but, I don’t think you really need me to, you know. You’re a lot smarter than you give yourself credit for, and I wouldn’t be surprised if you ended up beating me at my own game someday.”

“I doubt that,” you mumble, looking back at the board with furrowed brows.

Spencer leans back in his chair, watching you with admiration as you study the board, he can see the gears turning in your head. He knows what move he should be doing, the move that could make him win the game, but he isn’t really interested in that.

“Well, it looks like I’m running out of options,” he say, feigning defeat as he moves his bishop into a vulnerable position.

You glance up at him. “You could have moved your rook to that square and set up a potential checkmate in a few moves,”you point out, sounding both surprised and proud that you saw the possible move.

Spencer had, of course, seen that it would have been the right move to make, but he wanted to give you a chance to shine, and to prolong the game. Seeing the pride and satisfaction in your eyes is worth more than winning any game ever could.

“Oh, you’re right,” he says, trying to sound surprised, like he hadn’t seen that move multiple rounds in advance. But he must not be a very convincing actor, and he can’t help but smile as he watches the look of realization dawn on your face.

You roll your eyes playfully, seeing right through his act. “You’re such a goof, Spence,” you giggle, shaking your head in amusement. “But thank you for giving me a chance to show off a little.”

“I guess I just wanted to give you a fighting chance,” he says, leaning in closer to you.

You playfully swat at his arm, a laugh escaping your lips. “Dork,” you tease, but there’s a fondness in your tone that makes his heart swell with even more love for you, and he leans in to place a gentle kiss on your forehead, before leaning back again to look at you, his heart overflowing with adoration for you.

You playfully roll your eyes, but there’s a hint of gratitude in your expression. “Well, thanks for the favor,” you say with a smile, moving your queen in a strategic position that surprises Spencer.

He raises an eyebrow in surprise at your move, impressed by your strategic thinking. “Oh, someone’s feeling confident now, huh?” he teases, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

You shrug nonchalantly, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “Well, you did say you weren’t going to go easy on me,” you quip, moving your pieces with a newfound determination.

Spencer watches you closely, his heart filled with pride at the way you’re starting to grasp the game more and more and making better and better strategic moves. He can’t help but admire your intelligence and quick thinking, feeling a sense of awe at the way you surprise him at every turn.

And yes, he might go a little easy on you from time to time, but he can see that you’re starting to understand the game on a deeper level. And that, to him, is worth more than winning a game of chess ever could.

As the game progresses, Spencer can see the determination in your eyes, the way you carefully plan out your moves and anticipate his next move

“You’re really giving me a run for my money, aren’t you?” Spencer remarks, a smile playing on his lips as he watches you strategize your next move. You give him a sly grin, clearly enjoying the challenge. “I told you not to underestimate me, Spence,” you say confidently, moving your knight into a position that puts him on the defensive.

Spencer chuckles, impressed by your bold move. “I should know better by now,” he admits, moving his rook to protect his vulnerable bishop. The game continues, each move calculated and strategic, and Spencer can’t help but admire the way you’ve grown since your first game together.

“Checkmate,” you say triumphantly, a grin stretching across your face as you realize you’ve won. Spencer can’t help but smile back, feeling a rush of excitement and happiness at your victory. “Well done, darling,” he says, leaning in to give you a congratulatory kiss.

“I still feel like you went easy on me, but thank you,” you tease, a playful glint in your eye. Spencer can’t help but laugh, feeling grateful for the opportunity to see the excited smile that is lighting up your face, making your already beautiful features shine even brighter with a sense of pride.

“Maybe I did, maybe I didn't,” he teases back, a twinkle in his eye. “But regardless, you did really well, I can’t believe how far you’ve come in such a short amount of time.”

You grin at his words. “Well, I’ve had a really great teacher,” you remark. “And he is, like, sooo handsome too. It’s actually wild that I could even concentrate on the game,” you add with a wink before you’re leaning in to plant a sweet kiss on his lips.

Spencer’s heart flutters at your words, feeling a surge of love and adoration for you that he can’t quite put into words, they are too big and too overwhelming to express, so instead he tries to pour every bit of that love and adoration into the kiss that he returns to you.

He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close to him as he deepens the kiss, savoring the feeling of being so close to you, of sharing this moment. He might have lost the game, but because of you, he has never felt like less of a loser.

As you both pull away, a smile lingers on both of your faces, and Spencer can’t help but feel like the luckiest man alive. “I love you,” he whispers, his voice filled with sincerity and adoration.

“I love you too, Spence,” you respond, your eyes filled with nothing but love and affection for him “Now help me set this board up again, I want to beat you fair and square this time,” you say with a playful glint in your eye. Spencer chuckles at your competitive spirit, feeling a sense of contentment wash over him as he helps you set up the board once more.

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steddiehyperfixation · 4 months

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don't you forget about me (part seven)

(part one)(part two)(part three)(part four)(part five)(part six)

Eddie takes back everything he’d thought before; sex dreams are so much worse actually, especially when you wake up to the subject of them holding your hand. His face turns bright red the second his eyes open and land on Steve. He sits upright immediately, bunching up the blankets over his lap.

The pounding of his heart - aka the rapid beeping of the heart monitor - alerts Steve who snaps awake instantly and tightens his grip on Eddie’s hand as he asks with urgent concern, “Are you alright? Did you have another nightmare?”

“No, no, definitely not a nightmare.” Eddie’s cheeks burn, feels the flush reach his ears and down his neck too. He clears his throat. “Just, uh- just a weird dream, that’s all. Not bad, just…weird, yeah. I’m fine.”

Steve relaxes. “Okay.” He hesitates, then adds hopefully, “Was it, uh- Do you think it was a memory?”

Eddie shakes his head. “Definitely not.”

“What makes you so sure?” Steve asks.

“It was fantasy.” Eddie’s eyes rake over Steve, and he tries not to wonder just how accurate his dream was.

Steve raises a skeptical eyebrow. “Fantasy?”

“Yeah, fantasy. So unless you have some truly awesome news to give me about the existence of dragons,” Eddie lies (better to have Steve think he’d dreamt of riding on a dragon rather than that he’d dreamt of Steve riding him), “I’m pretty sure it was just a regular old dream.”

“Oh.” Steve's face falls; and Eddie almost wants to take it all back and tell a different lie, that it had been a memory, but he doesn't. “Yeah, no, I've yet to run into any dragons yet, I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry,” Eddie says, running his thumb over Steve's hand. “I wish it was a memory. I mean- I wish I had more memories, and I'm sorry that I don't. I'm sorry that makes you so sad.”

The apology only makes Steve look sadder. “Oh, Eddie, no, it's okay.” He shakes his head, squeezes Eddie's hand. “Don't apologize for that. It's not like you chose to forget.”

“I know. I’m still sorry though,” Eddie responds quietly. His dream-sparked lust has since curbed into something softer, inevitably. He looks into those downturned and devastating brown puppy dog eyes. “I didn't choose to forget, but I’m still the reason you're sad - I know that, so I'm sorry.”

It's Steve this time who mutters “You don't have to worry about me so much, Eds, I'm alright,” and it's Steve this time who clasps Eddie’s hand in both of his and brushes a kiss over his knuckles.

It sends a rush through Eddie's whole body to feel Steve's lips against his skin - in real life, that is. Heat rises in his cheeks again, heart rate kicking up for the millionth time. “Uh- yeah, uh, o-okay,” he stutters, can’t seem to form a coherent thought or sentence right now. He pulls his hand away and runs his fingers through his hair instead, changing the subject, “Um. Are you, uh- are you sticking around today?”

“Yeah.” Though there’s still a trace of sadness behind his eyes, there’s something like flirtation there too as Steve smirks and says, “I’m all yours today.”

God. Eddie really is done for, isn’t he.

It’s no wonder, then, that after spending another full day with Steve, another full day of being subjected to Steve’s bittersweet smiles and friendly banter and (that is, if Eddie’s not just being delusional, which is a very real and probable possibility) the occasional flirty comment, Eddie’s dreams soon turn sappy again:

They were sitting in some restaurant, in a corner booth, holding hands behind a propped up menu. Steve was looking gorgeous in a tastefully tight polo and perfectly styled hair streaked with gold, and he looked at Eddie with that warm little smile that always made his heart glow. It overflowed; Eddie almost couldn't take it.

He said, “I know you said you wanted to do things right, so after how many dates can I ask you to be my boyfriend?”

Steve's smile grew, eyes wide with a sort of wonder and disbelief and anticipation that was vaguely reminiscent of a child on christmas morning. “I, uh- I think the third date is just fine.”

“Okay, good.” Eddie grinned. He caught Steve's other hand and held it right there out in the open without a care who saw or heard. “Because I like you so so much; you’re the best person I know, Stevie, and I wanna lock this down before someone else comes along and snatches you up. I want to be your boyfriend more than anything, and I want you to be mine, if you want that too. So, what do you say?”

Steve must not’ve cared who saw or heard either because he immediately lunged across the table to kiss him, holding Eddie's hands tight as he pressed their lips together fervently.

Eddie certainly wasn't about to complain. He indulged the kiss for a good long few moments before he pulled back to double check, “So that was a yes, right?”

“Yeah, dumbass,” Steve laughed, fond and bright and beautiful. “That was absolutely a yes.”

That ache is back when Eddie wakes up, the wanting, the wishing.

He thinks this dream falls somewhere in between the events of the last two, like his brain is turning this fantasy into a whole connected narrative now, building and fleshing out this wishful story of him and Steve. Unless… No. Eddie can't let himself think like that. If these dreams have been memories, if that had really been the type of relationship they'd had, surely Steve would've said something. It's not unusual for Eddie's daydreams to become so involved and become entire worlds. This is, as he tells himself for the third time now, just another case of his overactive imagination.

Steve doesn't ask about his dreams again, and he soon leaves for work and isn't around much that day, but that still doesn't stop Eddie's mind from continuing the fiction when he falls asleep holding Steve's hand, as always now, that night:

Eddie sat on Steve's couch, his arm slung casually around Steve's shoulders as Steve leaned against him and idly played with the rings on Eddie's other hand while a movie played on the TV in front of them. It was Steve's turn to pick the movie, and there was a time when Eddie would've rolled his eyes and scoffed at the suggestion of watching The Breakfast Club, but it had just come out on VHS and Steve was so excited about it and Eddie was more than happy now to sit just there and watch Steve watch it. Because Steve was smiling and humming along to the songs on the soundtrack, and Eddie felt, suddenly, with such simple certainty that this is where he was meant to be, that this is who he was going to spend the rest of his life with.

Something must've changed in his expression, in his stare, because Steve soon rolled his head to the side to look at Eddie and asked with an amused (and vaguely confused) smile, “What?”

“Nothing, I just-” Eddie shook his head, pressed a kiss to Steve's temple and then said like it was the easiest thing in the world, “I think I've fallen in love with you.”

Steve laughed as if this great big relief just bubbled free from his chest. “Oh thank god,” he said. “I’m in love with you too.”

Eddie believed him, knew it with the same certainty as before. They shared gentle smiles and a sweet, chaste kiss. Steve slipped an arm around Eddie's waist and curled closer against his side. He went right back to watching the movie and Eddie went right back to watching Steve. And that was all there was to it.

Clear, effortless, uncomplicated. Because how could they be anything else but in love with each other?

Eddie sighs when he blinks awake. His eyes slowly shift to the side and he looks at Steve strangely for a few silent moments.

Steve asks, “What?”

Eddie's cheeks tinge pink, and Steve wonders, not for the first time, what Eddie had been dreaming about. He gets a devastating sense of deja vu when Eddie shakes his head and says, “Nothing.” But it stops there where Steve's memory doesn't.

Although, Eddie is still considering him in that weird, just short of familiar way, and Steve wonders - again, not for the first time - if maybe Eddie just might remember too. But surely he'd say something if he did.

Eddie taps his fingers against Steve's hand and asks after a long minute. “Are you gonna be around tomorrow?”

“I can be.” Steve is scheduled to work tomorrow, but he'd call out sick in an instant if Eddie asked him to.

“Okay, because, uh, that's when the doctor’s gonna have me try to walk and when they're gonna teach me and Wayne how to take care of my wounds at home for when I’m discharged, and I, um, I want you to be there for that too,” Eddie says.

Steve finds himself a little surprised by this. “You really want me there?”

“Yeah, I mean, If you don't mind,” Eddie starts, rambling like he's suddenly scared Steve might refuse, “I know it's not the most fun thing to be here for, but I just figured whatever the doctor tells us tomorrow you should know too, just in case, you know, like I might need you one day and Wayne can't be around all the time and-”

“I’ll be there, Eddie,” Steve assures him, squeezing his hand. “Of course I’ll be there.”

And so he is. He calls out of work the next day, much to Keith’s annoyance, and stands there as the room fills with doctors and nurses and Eddie's uncle Wayne.

Eddie's mobility is tested first. He makes a soft grunt of pain as he's instructed to swing his legs over the side of the bed, and then another when the doctor taps his knee and his injured leg kicks with the assessment of his reflexes. Satisfied with that response, the doctor moves on to pressing various pressure points on Eddie’s leg to measure how much he can feel (and Steve tries very hard not to feel so weirdly irrationally jealous at watching the doctor feel up Eddie's leg). After a few more soft painful hisses that let the doctor know Eddie's nerve endings are intact - or whatever it was she was testing - he's told to try and stand. He's understandably apprehensive, hesitant. The doctor and his uncle help coax him off the bed; the competent and the familiar. Steve hangs back still, sure he's not needed for this.

But the second Eddie attempts to put pressure on his injured limb and he stumbles, his hand shoots out and it's Steve’s name he calls, as if on instinct. And, on instinct, Steve is there in a second to grab his hand and assist in steadying him. “I've got you,” he murmurs, guiding Eddie to the walker that's been set out for him. Eddie limps a few more feet with the help of the walker and the encouragement of Steve’s (hopefully) comforting hand on his shoulder until the doctor calls it and tells Eddie he can rest again.

Once Eddie makes it back onto the bed, collapsing back into the pillows with a haggard sigh, the doctor and nurses immediately crowd him again, try to go straight into the next step of redressing his wounds.

“Give him a second,” Steve snaps, protectively holding onto Eddie's hand and leaning over him. “Can't you see he's exhausted?”

The doctor shoots the only other proper adult in the room a weary look.

“They know what they're doing, kid.” Wayne's heavy hand lands on Steve's shoulder, both a reassurance and an alert for him to back off.

“I’m okay, Stevie,” Eddie adds. He gives Steve a tired smile and squeezes his hand before prying it out of Steve's hold. “It's alright.”

Steve reluctantly relents and steps back to give the medical professionals space to continue.

Eddie's shirt is pushed up so the bandages on his chest and stomach are accessible as the nurses begin to explain and demonstrate the process of taking care of the injuries. Steve watches, listens intently, wants to absorb every ounce of information so he can best tend to Eddie if need be. Then his eyes flick up and he accidentally makes dead eye contact with Eddie who seems to realize then just how vulnerable and exposed he is right now because his cheeks burn red and his heart rate suddenly increases.

The nurses don't seem to be too worried about this - if anything, they exchange knowing glances with everyone else in the room except Eddie and Steve before they continue their demonstration. Steve isn't worried either anymore - if anything, he finally resigns himself fully to the fact, the irrefutable proof, that Robin was right and Eddie really does have a schoolboy crush on him again.

Steve does his best to keep paying attention, but in the background his mind is spinning and his heart aching.

On the one hand it’s kind of sweet to know Eddie's feelings are not gone completely, that some level of attraction still swirls to the surface even through the empty space in his memory. And Steve has been indulging that crush the past couple days, little comments of flirtation just to feel like he still has Eddie in some way, just to see the reaction and have some evidence that Eddie still feels something at all for him. (Stupid, selfish.)

But on the other hand it is just a crush. Eddie used to love him, but now that's halved; and that's a very specific kind of agony.

Steve’s not sure how much longer he can handle this.

Something passed between them when they made eye contact; something sweet and sad flitted across Steve's expression, as it often does, but he looked away when Eddie blushed and has been avoiding his eyes again since.

When the nurses are done showing them how to wrap him up, Steve retreats, saying kindly, though still not quite looking at him, “I'm gonna go get you some water, alright?”

“Oh, yeah, thanks.” Eddie smiles gratefully after him.

“Your boyfriend seems sweet,” Nurse Katie comments, carefully, as she secures the last of the fresh bandages.

“Excuse me?” Eddie coughs, chokes on his own spit, spluttering, “I’m- he's not- we’re- it’s- um. He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Oh, sorry,” the nurse is quick to apologize. “I didn't mean to assume, I just thought since he's always in here holding your hand, even before you woke up-”

“We're friends,” Eddie says shortly. He feels a little dizzy at what she's suggesting and would really rather her stop talking.

“Alright, my mistake.” Katie backs off the subject.

Steve returns then anyways, further killing that topic of conversation. He hands a cup of water to Eddie, who takes it with another muttered “thanks” and starts gulping it down while the doctor goes off on some spiel about the process of having him discharged and more tests they’ll have to do tomorrow. Eddie’s not paying attention. He’s too tired.

Not long after that, the doctor and nurses file out of the room, and Wayne stands to leave too. “I’m glad the two of you are getting close again,” he mentions to Steve and Eddie on his way out. “You were good for each other.”

Whatever that means.

Eddie doesn’t have the brainpower left to contemplate that. Being poked and prodded and trying to walk took a lot out of him. He’s exhausted, achy all over. It’s barely even late enough to be dinner time yet, but he could honestly just pass out right now. He sets his finished water cup on the bedside table and his now free hand reaches, once again, for Steve.

“Tired?” Steve asks as he catches Eddie’s hand.

“Mhmm.” Eddie settles against his pillows, closing his eyes. He adds in a sleepy mumble, “’M glad you were here today.”

“Me too.”

He feels Steve’s lips slide gently across the back of his hand, and then Eddie slides gently into sleep.

Immediately, though, his dreams are not gentle; for the first time since he’s been falling asleep with Steve’s hand in his, Eddie dreams of the bats:

Eddie was in that hell dimension, the scene all black and red and dotted with bats. But he wasn’t alone. Nancy Wheeler and Robin Buckley were there too, the three of them fending off the creatures with boat oars, and Steve- Steve was on the ground; two bats gnawed on his sides, another had its tail wrapped around his neck. Eddie’s heart was in his throat, roaring in his ears and pumping pure fear and adrenaline through his veins. He couldn’t save him; all he could do was try his best to keep more bats from joining in on the feast.

Steve, however, seemed perfectly capable of saving himself. He managed to sink his teeth into the bat tail around his neck, getting it to let go. Eddie couldn’t see everything, too busy whacking away more incoming bats, but when the last of this fleet of creatures was fought off, Eddie turned back around to find Steve on his feet now, holding a bat by the tail and slamming it against the ground far more times than necessary. He watched as Steve stomped down on the bat’s neck and tore its head from its body. Blood from the bat’s tail hung from Steve’s lips in a thick, dark drip before he spat it into the dirt.

Eddie stared, jaw dropped, pounding heart pumping an entirely different sensation through his veins now. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life.”

Steve gave him a bloodstained grin and Eddie’s knees felt weak. He would’ve dropped to the ground in front of him right then and there if-

“Keep it in your pants, Munson.” Robin shoulder-checked him as she walked past. “At least until we get the hell out of hell.”

Eddie settled instead for sidling up to Steve and, after taking a second to make sure he was alright, whispering low and close to Steve’s ear, “If we were anywhere else and you weren’t injured right now…” The muttered end of that sentence was something so filthy it made Steve’s face burn red, and he laughed.

“Freak,” Steve said affectionately as he smacked a kiss to Eddie’s cheek.

Eddie was quick to turn his head and catch Steve’s lips, locking them together in something searing and intense.

“Boys!” Nancy snapped impatiently from a few feet ahead, which startled them apart. “Seriously? Time and place, come on.”

Both Eddie and Steve laughed as they followed after the girls.

Eddie wakes up a little bit disoriented from that dream. He doesn’t know what to call it: Was it a nightmare or not? Was it a memory or another fantasy? The lines are blurred and Eddie finds himself confused.

Steve must’ve seen this on his face because he asks, “Everything alright?”

“Yeah…” Eddie answers slowly. “I had a dream about the Upside Down…but it wasn’t quite a nightmare, I don’t think. I’m just- I’m not sure if it was a memory or not.” He hesitates, then decides screw it, he might as well try to get some sort of clarification on the reality of some details of his dream. “Did you…rip a bat in half with your bare hands?”

“I did, yeah,” Steve confirms. His expression shifts, sparking with something like hope.

“And, uh, did I tell you that was the hottest thing I’d ever seen?”

“You did, yeah.”

“Okay, cool,” Eddie says, reeling. “Just checking.”

Steve is watching him almost expectantly, but when Eddie doesn’t say anything more on the subject, his face falls into something more like disappointment.

(final part is here!) taglist (CLOSED): @romanticdestruction @daydreamsandcrashingwaves @paintsplatteredandimperfect @hallucinatedjosten @mugloversonly @estrellami-1 @alongcomesaspider @thatonebadideapanda @tell-me-a-secret-a-nice-one @dragonmama76 @wxrmland @nuggies4life @sirsnacksalot @myguiltyartpleasure @lolawonsstuff @marklee-blackmore @vinteraltus @sebastiansstanswhore @0happyeverafter0 @scarlet-malfoy @hotluncheddie @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @emsgoodthinkin @alyelf @warlordess @stevesbipanic @lil-gremlin-things @rockandrolodex @badcaseofcasey @bat-outta-hel @fandomcartographer @manda-panda-monium @littlewildflowerkitten @giopandaonice @mightbeasleep @queenie-ofthe-void @krazyperson @worldofshea @marvel-ous-m @tartarusknight @a-little-unsteddie @xenon-demon @goodolefashionedloverboi @xxsky-shockxx @mc-i-r @bookbinderbitch @aspenshade88 @slowandsteddie @thedragonsaunt @daydreaming-mood @space-invading-pigeon @irregular-child @a-lovely-craziness (taglist continued in replies; please lmk if you'd like to be removed from this list. if you didn't make the taglist but still wanna follow along, you can follow the tag #dyfamsteddiefic to keep up with new updates!)

#lots going on here. medical inaccuracies and self-indulgent dreams lmao #our boys will finally get their shit together in the next part i promise and i am just as excited for that as the rest of y'all #steddie #steddie angst #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #fanfic #mine #dyfamsteddiefic

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goldenlikedayl1ght · 6 months

Text

the lakes - m. murdock

a/n: hey guys so i've been struggling a lot with the fact that i might have hearing loss (i'm going to the doctor next week) and as always i am projecting, but i am not 100% sure everything in this fic is accurate and for that i apologize. but it's my little passion project and i hope you enjoy <3 as always, comments and reblogs are always loved and appreciated! warnings: hearing loss, hearing aids, tinnitus, reader struggling with being disabled, some parts are more vulnurable and don't have the reader being like overly confident in their disability, matt being soft, some suggestive behavior at the end, kissing, nicknames, pretty pg-13 honestly word count: 3.0k summary: your hearing aids run out of battery, and you're forced to struggle through a day of ringing ears and being deaf. matt helps, as he always does. pairing: matt murdock x hard of hearing!reader now playing: the lakes - taylor swift "take me to the lakes/where all the poets went to die/i don't belong/but my beloved, neither do you."

“Are you deaf?”

“What?”

You’re eighteen, home from college for the first time since fall break. Your family sits around for Thanksgiving, and there are so many people talking. There’s about thirteen people at this long dining room table, and they are all talking at once. You’re sitting next to your sister, but you can’t hear her well.

You know she’s speaking, and you’re sure you’re yelling, but you’re frustrated.

“I said, are you deaf? I repeated myself like, four times!”

You feel your face flush.

“Sorry, I didn’t hear you. You’re mumbling, and it’s loud in here.”

Your sister looks at you like you’re crazy.

“I’m right next to you, and I’m not mumbling. In fact, no one is yelling, either.”

You poke your fork at your sweet potatoes and feel hot, angry tears in your eyes as you avoid everyone’s gaze.

Your mom sits across from you, and frowns, planning to tell you to make an appointment at the student health center when you get back to campus.

She doesn’t even have to. You’ve booked one by the time she says it to you.

At the student health center, they administer a hearing test, and then refer you to a specialist for further testing. You call your mom, crying and she gently comforts you, before driving to the nearest bookstore and picking up a book on hearing impairments and a copy of ASL for Dummies.

At the specialist, they do another round of tests. Your doctor tells you that you do in fact have hearing issues and that you should come back in a year for more testing, to see if your hearing gets worse. For now, you get a doctor’s note that requires all your professors to take your hearing impairment into consideration. The process for getting that applied at your university is painful, and only gets worse through your years there.

Before you get to law school, your doctor tests you again, and tells you how your hearing has been decreasing in quality in the past few years. He says that you’ll need hearing aids to regulate it. You cry because you cannot afford that.

You get captioning accommodations throughout law school, as well as a note taker for certain classes that are entirely lecture based. You still try to take your own notes, but it frustrates you that suddenly you need all this help. Your own notes are incomprehensible and often miss key parts of the lecture as you sit for a few minutes trying to decipher what your professor had said a few minutes prior.

You go into corporate law after law school, choosing to stay out of court initially because you find yourself frustrated that you wouldn’t be able to process all of what’s going on due to the many voices.

You stay at this company long enough to get your hearing aids, long enough to pay your loans, and long enough to save up a good fund for your hearing aid needs.

You quit your job and get hired at Nelson, Murdock & Page as an interim while you decide what you want to do.

With your hearing aids, life isn’t so frustrating anymore. You find yourself enjoying casual chatter and not worrying about processing what your friends are saying. At family dinners, you take your hearing aids out when you’re mad at your family, to which your stepdad, another hearing aid user, always laughs.

And, despite the pay not being stellar at your job, you love it. You love working with people who need help, love fighting injustice, and you love your coworkers.

...

If only Matt Murdock would reciprocate your feelings towards him.

You’ve been dancing this dance for months. You come into work with coffee and stutter when you get to his doorway.

You wonder if he’ll ever know how desperately you want him.

You go about your days quietly, going to the bar with them at the end of a long week. You love your friends and find yourself hoping they know how much you love them.

Karen and Foggy, as well as Foggy’s fiancé, know about your hearing aids since they sit sort of clunkily on your ears.

You don’t tell Matt, though, not at first.

You know how bad it is, to not even tell your blind crush that you have hearing aids. But you’re embarrassed. It makes you sound like an old person even though you’re in your twenties.

But when Matt crawls into your window late at night, bleeding, you don’t even flinch as he crashes onto your floor behind you. You’re reading, your hearing aids out, and he’s unsure why you can’t hear him. Your heartbeat had no reaction, it’s like you don’t even realize he’s there.

He taps you on your shoulder and you turn quickly, and gasp, before starting to sign at him. Even in his disoriented state, he knows you’re doing something with your hands and moving your mouth. At first, he thinks that he might have stuff clogging his ears, but then he realizes you’re signing, probably because you think Daredevil isn’t blind.

He takes off his helmet.

“Matt?” You say, and it comes out a little louder than it should, because you can’t hear yourself to gage how loud you’re being.

He says something, and your gaze focuses on his mouth, where you can barely make out what he’s saying.

“I can’t hear you.” You say, softer now. You reach over to your bedside table and put your hearing aids on. By the time you look back, Matt has passed out on the ground. Oh fuck.

You get your first aid kit and begin to work on his wounds. When you’re done, you pull him onto your couch, now stained with his blood, and watch as he sleeps. Blood covers your hands, and you listen to him breathing.

When he wakes up that morning, you’re asleep on the couch, and when you feel him start to stir. You grab your hearing aids, and turn them on, before watching him wake.

He says your name softly, and you take his hand in yours.

“Hey.. You.. You’re Daredevil...”

“You’re deaf.”

“Hard of hearing. Not fully deaf, just… My right ear is a lot better than my left, but without my hearing aids I’m close to deaf, yeah…”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were Daredevil?”

“I was scared. Scared that… That you would view me differently, scared that you wouldn’t like me as much.”

“I was scared too..”

“When did you start losing your hearing?”

“In college. I realized it when I went home for Thanksgiving, and then it got worse from there..” You tell him. A hand reaches out to your face, and you lean into it, letting your cheek rest in his palm. His fingers trail up towards your ear and gently run his fingers over your hearing aid.

“Thanks for stitching me up.” He says softly.

“No problem.”

“The hearing aid does explain the buzzing I always hear when you’re around.”

“You can hear my hearing aids?”

“Apparently. I can hear a lot of things. I have heightened senses. You use pomegranate shampoo and had red velvet cake for dessert tonight. Your heart is racing.”

Your face flushes.

“I can turn them off if it’s bothering you.”

“How would you hear me, then?” He has a point.

“I just don’t want them to bother you.”

“Don’t offer to hide your disability just to make other people more comfortable.”

You kiss him when he says this, in a careful way. You’re gentle, making sure not to hurt him as you do. He lays there and lets you kiss him, his hands on your face. You realize you had no reason to be scared that Matt might reject you for your disability, because he is the only person in your everyday life who really gets how it is to have a disability that affects all aspects of your life.

You trace the healed scars on his skin as you kiss him gently, careful not to hurt him. You promise that you’ll kiss him more passionately when he isn’t freshly stitched up.

• • •

A few weeks passed after that night. You and Matt start seeing each other more and more as you fall deeper in love. You find it silly that you wasted so many days, afraid of talking to each other and maybe disappointing each other over the fact that you both lack a vital sense.

But Matt never views it that way. You wear hearing aids and it’s perfectly fine because most of the time, you aren’t struggling to hear him and cannot communicate with him, and he can’t see when you can’t hear him.

Instead, Matt loves that he can hear your hearing aids buzzing softly because it always alerts him that you’re there. He can hear your heartbeat and smell you, too, but it’s not quite the same as this soft little buzzing that reminds him often of a bee.

Except for this one day.

You slept over at Matt’s on a Thursday and really, you should have known better. You knew your hearing aids were going to need a battery change soon, but you’ve been so busy with work and with Matt, and worrying about him at night, that you’re tired. So tired that you forget to pick up batteries before your hearing aids die.

You sneak out of Matt’s apartment early, sending him a text that you needed to go get changed before work. Really, you want to avoid the fact that you wouldn’t be able to hear him. But he didn’t respond to your message. You decide that you don’t care at this moment and head out to work, debating the right way to tell your coworkers about your predicament.

When you get to work, Foggy is immediately talking to you, and you are tense.

“Foggy—” He’s not stopping. It sounds like he’s mumbling, and there’s this ringing in your ears. “Foggy, I can’t hear you.” He finally looks to you, and says something, you make it out to be a phrase of confusion. “My hearing aids died.” You tell him. You’re frustrated, and Matt isn’t in the office yet.

You deem this as a blessing and a curse. Foggy goes to tell Karen what’s going on and as you’re settling down for the day, you get a text. You hope it’s from Matt, but when you see Karen’s name, you falter slightly.

‘Hey! Foggy told me what was going on. We’ll have your calls redirected to one of us and you can spend the day doing housekeeping and paperwork.’

‘Thanks’, You respond, “Sorry about all this. I’m usually on top of my battery life.”

“Don’t worry about it. These things happen.”

“Still, thanks. Did you hear from Matt at all?”

“No, he probably just slept in late. He should be in soon.”

You try to ignore your anxieties over his absence even though you know that when he does come into the office, you’ll have to struggle to communicate with him all day.

So, for the first hour or so of your day, you try to get some work done but there’s a light ringing in your ears that’s getting worse and worse as you attempt to try and focus on other things. Everything sounds so muffled. You’re so focused that your teeth grind against each other, your muscles tense, as you attempt to try and block out the ringing in your ears.

You have a feeling that by the time you leave today, those hot frustrated tears will be threatening to pour once more.

You don’t hear Matt as he steps into your office and stands by your left side, where you’re almost completely deaf. He stands there for about ten minutes, trying to get your attention before he realizes the light buzzing of your hearing aids are not there.

You must not have them in.

So his hands find your shoulders gently, and instead of tensing, you actually relax under his touch, because you realize that it has to be Matt. A slight turning of your head confirms it and you lean into his touch.

Neither of you say much for a while, deciding to let your frustration slowly dissipate as you lean into his warm hands. They stay on your shoulders and upper arms, rubbing gentle patterns into your skin.

After a good ten minutes of this, his body shifts to your right side and he leans down, before speaking at full volume, maybe even a little louder, just to make sure you can hear him. It still sounds like he’s mumbling, but you can hear him.

“Forgot your hearing aids?”

“Batteries died.” You tell him. “You never answered me.”

“My phone died. I forgot my charger, too.. Are you gonna be okay to work all day?”

“Mhm..” You smile softly, “You’re gonna have to help answer calls, though.”

He kisses your cheek, and you lean into the warmth.

“Anything for you, sweetheart.” He says, a soft smile on his face.

The day goes by pretty much as you expect it. You spend it doing paperwork and dodging phone calls, your tinnitus gets worse as the day goes on. By the time the day is finally winding down, Karen sends you one final text.

“Matt’s staying a little late to catch up on some work. Want me to walk you home?”

“No, I’ll be fine. Thank you.”

You realize that because she and Foggy are heading home, you’ll be able to sit with Matt, maybe get a little bit of peace. You’re thankful, too, because you’re about to lose your mind over all of this. The ringing is just getting to be too much.

You wait a few minutes after Foggy and Karen head home before you go into Matt’s office. He smiles at you and gestures for you to come in, and you do. You lean against his desk, as he speaks loud enough now that you can hear him.

“I’ll just be a few more minutes, Bee.” Even the soft-spoken nickname doesn't get you out of your funk, too busy wanting to get on your hands and knees and beg God for your hearing back.

That doesn’t usually happen, but every once in a while you ask him for a normal life.

God sends you a blind man as your soulmate, because he must think that the whole thing is quite funny.

“Okay…”

You feel hot tears pooling in your eyes as you bite your tongue and dig your fingernails into your skin. You almost draw blood.

“What’s wrong?” He can tell that something is wrong. He can always tell, and you’re foolish to think anything less of him, and even more foolish to forget his super senses. A part of you bites back a bitter feeling, since you wish you could’ve had super smell, super sight, super taste, anything in exchange for your hearing. You were not given an exchange, only forced to give, with nothing in there for you.

You forget that your boyfriend has super senses and can taste and smell your salty tears and blood in the air. Damn him.

“Loud… Ringing in my ears, my tinnitus is always really bad when I don’t use my hearing aids for a while..” You say softly. “It’s just.. it really hurts...” You confess, tears slipping down your face.

“Sweetheart..” He takes off his glasses and rests them on the desk in front of him. “C’mere..” You can’t hear that last part, but the way he opens his arms gives you the hint.

You sit on his lap, burying your face in the crook of his neck with a shaky sigh. You feel the thumps of his heartbeat and hold onto it, the ringing in your ears slightly muffled by his skin. It doesn’t fix the problem, but it helps.

His hands linger on your body, gentle caresses of your knee or thigh happening here and there. He just wants you to know he’s there, in the same way he desires when everything becomes too much for him.

“”m sorry..” you say gently, and he just hushes you softly, kissing your head. He traces patterns into your skin. He traces words into it as well.

L-O-V-E.

S-W-E-E-T-H-E-A-R-T

He traces your name, his, and your last names.

You kiss him softly, realizing that you might never be 100% okay with your hearing, but Matt will help. He’ll understand. He loves you, and it’s enough to be confident in your future again.

You spend only a few minutes more in the office before you decide to head home, his hand never leaving yours.

You make it back to his apartment and Matt plugs his phone in in case you need to text him and get his attention. You wind up stealing a pair of sweatpants, a tee shirt, and a pair of fuzzy socks. The two of you wind up tangled together on his couch.

Your ear is pressed against his chest as he gently caresses your skin, occasionally moving your hair from your face. He mumbles sweet nothings, and while you can’t hear them, you feel the rumbling vibrations in his chest, and you relish in them. You bathe in the feeling of his heartbeat thumping against his skin.

You fall asleep like this, with Matt touching you and talking in this low tone to make sure you can feel the vibrations of his voice in his chest and in his throat. It’s enough just knowing he’s there. That this thing you thought would deem you unlovable is no match for Matt Murdock, who on your wedding day will throw up the sign for ‘I love you’ in ASL.

For Matt Murdock, who, when you’re taken for loving the devil, will find you and take you into his arms and kiss you so that you know he’s real.

For Matt Murdock, who touches you in all the right ways so you can hear the sounds of your own pleasure.

For Matt Murdock, who will gently trace patterns into your skin when you need to be grounded. For Matt Murdock, who feels himself slipping further and further in love with you and finds himself searching for the soft buzz of your hearing aids when you walk into the room.

#matt murdock #matt murdock fic #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x y/n #matt murodock hurt/comfort #matt murdock angst #matt murdock imagine #daredevil fic #daredevil x reader #daredevil fanfiction #hoh!reader #hard of hearing!reader #deaf!reader #self indulgent

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ineffable-suffering · 8 months

Text

Aziraphale, I love you. But you lied. And here's why.

Okay. I’m not gonna beat around the bush for too long. It’s time now for me to also throw my try at a personal Good Omens Season 2 Magnum Opus into the mix of already existing magnum op..i? Opusses? (Smited? Smote?)

If I’m honest, it isn’t fully my own magnum opus, as I read this meta not too long ago that made me go: „Oh! My God! That’s it!“ And I’m pretty sure a lot of other people have clocked this too by now. Of course I’m not saying it’s the objective truth but after having mulled it over for many endless nights and days, wading through the onslaught of coffee theories, body swap theories, The Metatron re-writing the Book of Life theories and many, many more, this is the one I think is most plausible and, if you look closely, most obvious.

And it goes as such: Aziraphale lied.

To all of us. All of them. And most of all, to Crowley. He lied to him. Well, he sort of did and also sort of didn’t. He certainly didn’t tell the truth. At least not all of it. I hear you ask: “OP, what the fuck are you talking about”. I answer you: Let’s start from the top and under the cut.

(Small note: this meta ended up being way too large for Tumblr, which is why I will redirect you to an external doc at the end of the post, where I have written it all down nicely and accurately. It's about 35 digital A4-pages long, just in case you want to save it for later.)

(Word count: 12.831 | Approximate reading time: 50 minutes)

Let’s start with a short recap of what happens before the Metatron crashes the bookshop party and everything goes to shit. The proper visuals for this are in my Tumblr post but I am absolutely convinced that right up until when the Metatron comes to take Aziraphale away and talk to him, the angel is fully ready to get into Crowley’s Bentley-chariot and finally ride off into the sunset (or Alpha Centauri-set or whatever). You can see it in his face and body language. You can see when the penny drops for him that a) Crowley loves him b) he loves Crowley and c) they can finally start their happily ever after. Aziraphale realizes this all throughout said Brielzebub reveal in the bookshop. And he’s such a lost cause once he does.

I mean, look at that. Look at it. This (very shitty recording, sorry, I'm not tech-savvy enough to avoid the Amazon Prime screen recording blocker) is the very second Aziraphale realizes hat Crowley loves him. When he hears him suggest Alpha bloody Centauri as a getaway for Gabriel and Beelzebub, as Crowley has done to Aziraphale for so, so many times now. He finally understands what Crowley was trying to tell him with that all those times.

Aziraphale realizes this all throughout the Brielzebub reveal in the bookshop. And he’s such a lost cause once he does.

Right when Crowley suggest Alpha Centauri as a nice getaway spot to the two, Aziraphale looks at him and he gets it. That Crowley has loved him, has been loving him for millennia. Truthfully, they've both known that for a long while now. But there's a difference between knowing, wanting, craving and actually being able to finally have something. And that's exactly what we see on Aziraphale's face here. This is it. This is where it all starts working out for Crowley and him. This is were they can start their eternity together.

So from that second on, Aziraphale only has eyes for Crowley. He keeps physically pawing at Crowley with complete heart eyes, as if to say „Look, look, that’s gonna be us too! Finally!" He’s actually so smitten that he doesn’t even hear what Crowley is saying when he asks Shax if he can have back his apartment now because he’s sick of living in his car. (Also, what way to drop that bomb right in this moment Crowley, lmao).

Once the Metatron comes in, the first thing Aziraphale says is that they don’t need to talk because „he’s made his position quite clear“. He doesn’t even want to talk to the Metatron, because in his mind, he’s already made the choice. Actually, he made the choice way before the bookshop showdown. For starters, I’m convinced that the Jane Austen Ball actually never was for Maggie and Nina but for Crowley and him (you can read more about that here). And apart from that, for this whole season we have seen Aziraphale trying to advance his relationship with Crowley romantically and domestically and move them to the literal next base (our car!). And after everything he just witnessed with Brielzebub, the final nail in the coffin of ethereal-infernal romance being possible, his choice is absolutely crystal clear: It’s Crowley. It’s always been Crowley and it always will be Crowley. And now it can be Crowley. They can be an us.

The whole of Season 2 is such a massive learning curve for Aziraphale’s character, with him remembering all those important pivotal points of his past, and this very moment is the peak, with him not only understanding that Crowley loves him (because he certainly knew for quite some centuries now) but accepting that love, letting himself have that love, being allowed to want that love and taking that love and starting their new and final chapter with it. Nevertheless, the plot clock ticks for them. The Metatron saunters into the bookshop, evil and stinky as Metatrons do, and urges Aziraphale to come with him with his whole Take The Coffee schtick, which I will get into later. And Aziraphale, immediately sensing there’s Something Up, does. Can’t really turn down someone as high-ranking as the the voice of God, after all. Even if you were currently already planning how you were going to elope with a certain red-haired serpent of Eden.

he next time we see Aziraphale on screen, it’s so painfully evident on his face that he is neither happy nor excited. Not even the slightest bit. We’d know if he was, thanks to Mr. Michael master-of-microexpressions Sheen. None of the usual “Aziraphale is happy”-signs are there. No blinding eye-smile, no giddy wriggling, not giggles and gasps. No, when the Metatron tells Aziraphale to „go tell your friend the good news“, his expression looks like this:

I’m gonna go out on an entire limb here and say: That does not look like someone who’s absolutely tickety-boo hyped to tell his demon soulmate that he just got the juiciest promotion and that they can both be angels and live happily ever after in ethereal eternity now.

This, folks, looks like someone who knows exactly that the news he has to break right now, are going to be tickety-shit awful and very upsetting to said demon soulmate. And already, from that very short snippet of conversation, we can tell that Aziraphale isn’t really given a choice by the Metatron. Because while the Metatron does tell him that he doesn’t have to „answer right away“, he immediately follows it up by: „Go ahead and tell your friend the good news!“ Very distinct and definitive choice of words here. It’s “good news” because it’s already been decided. Because it’s already a done deal. There is no “yes, no, maybe”. This is the only choice he’s giving to Aziraphale. Because it’s ‘Coffee or death’.

And he already gave him the coffee.

***

Tumblr won't let me continue this over a certain character limit and I am not even remotely done yet – so, I feel like this is a good moment to redirect you to the continuation of this insane meta before we're in too deep. You can do so right here!

I'd love to hear your thoughts and opinions about this once you've fought your way through it. Hope you have a good time with it!

#good omens #good omens s2 #good omens season 2 #good omens meta #good omens analysis #neil gaiman #aziraphale #crowley #ineffable husbands #good omens predictions #i lost my mind writing this #it must be nice to be able to be a casual enjoyer of media #who doesnt spend 5 days writing a 22 page document on an angle and why he lied to his demon boyfriend #my own meta

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fengxun · 6 months

Text

HEART SHAKER! – YONE X READER

Yone usually regrets saying yes to what Kayn or Ezreal rope him in, but this time around, he doesn’t regret it at all.

CONTENT.⠀Idol AU. Gender-neutral reader. Tooth-rotting fluff, first dates, hopeful ending because Yone deserves happiness. Requested by @fictionfordays. Hope you enjoy! ~1.3k words

CROSS-POSTED ON AO3 / @angelshub @bitchcraftinc

Yone thinks he’s too old to be putting up with whatever shenanigans Kayn and Ezreal keep pulling him into.

Between promotions, interviews, production, and taking care of the group, he’s dedicated the majority of his time to being responsible and ensuring everything is in tip-top shape. He’s not unfamiliar with having responsibility be the key pillar in his life. Since he was a child, he took it upon himself to be someone his younger brother could look up to. He did everything he could to help his parents, working himself to the bone to ensure his family’s comfort. Not much has changed even when he’s become an idol.

Despite his weariness on some days, he can’t deny that he’s grown fond of his fellow members. He’ll put up with Aphelios’ pranks, Kayn’s ‘forgetfulness’ in doing his chores, Ezreal’s little jokes, and whatever else his life in HEARTSTEEL brings him. He supposes it’s why he found himself saying yes to Ezreal’s idea of a blind date.

Indulging in a silly idea once is harmless, he thinks. Maybe if he just went along, it’ll sate Ezreal enough to leave him be for a while. As happy (well, not really) as he is to indulge in his friend’s antics, he’d also prefer it if Ezreal didn’t bring up the idea every other day. And even if this is just to keep his all-too-enthusiastic friend at bay, he’s also not one to do things halfheartedly. For the first time since his audition, Yone is somewhat nervous.

Meeting new people isn’t all too familiar. He always greets his seniors, juniors, staff, or anyone he may come across on the job. But this isn’t a job, it’s something meant to potentially spark romance in his life which is far from professional. He hasn’t even been on a regular date. He’s well aware of what it usually entails, but he’s never actively sought out this sort of thing. He hopes whoever his date will be won’t feel too disappointed if he doesn’t catch their interest. He knows they’re Ezreal’s friend, but that doesn’t quite narrow it down.

He fiddles with his face mask (for safety measures, really) as he waits for his date at the table. Thanks to Kayn, the street where the restaurant is located is completely silent save for its employees and the occasional unknowing passer-by. He’s not sure what Kayn did—in fact, he’s not even going to ask—but if it means not having to stress as much about paparazzi and overly eager fans, he’s not going to pass up the opportunity.

“Gosh, sorry I’m late—Yone?”

Said man looks up from his drink with wide eyes, surprised to see that you’re standing right in front of him. Or, more accurately, one of Ezreal’s best friends, and the fact that both of you are surprised means that the guy’s got more talent for discretion than he let on.

“Did Ezreal put you up to this?” you ask with an amused lilt, taking a seat in front of him. He nods quietly. “Hm. So that’s why he’s been so suspicious lately. Seraphine just told me she wanted me to meet a friend, but well… I didn’t think it’d be you.”

“Are you disappointed?” Yone blurts out.

The corners of your lips curl into a small smile. “No, of course not. I’m pretty happy about it, actually. But what brings you here?”

He doesn’t know you that well, he realises. While you’re always there for the group dinners or parties, he’s never had a proper conversation with you aside from simple hellos here and there. He’s not too familiar with the warmth rising in his cheeks either, but if he has to guess, it definitely has something to do with the way you’re looking at him.

“Ah, well…” He’s not sure if he should say the truth. He’s aloof, yes, but he’s not insensitive. “Ezreal thought I should try something new.”

“Hey, that makes both of us! By the way, I have the same Poro keychain! They’re really cute, aren’t they?”

He feels relieved that you seem to be carrying the conversation just fine even if he doesn’t think he’s great at it. Usually, the extroverts of HEARTSTEEL are responsible for answering interview questions. Yone’s there for the more professional and practical side of things, like speaking to other producers or the company president. As you start to talk about your day, he listens to every word and finds himself getting lost in how much he likes being in your presence. You’re more animated than he is and you still ask about his day even when he doesn’t believe it’s as interesting as yours.

He really likes that about you, he concludes.

“I forgot to mention this, but isn’t this district usually full of people? Why’s it so quiet today?” Your curious expression practically has him melting at how adorable you look. He prides himself on keeping his composure, but your presence alone is making him doubt his ability to be calm.

Yone is never nervous. The only other time he’s felt that way was when he first stepped through the company doors as a trainee. But the longer he sits here with you, his heart races and it’s getting harder to focus when you’re undoubtedly quite a perfect match for him.

(Damn that kid and his ‘super senses.’)

He clears his throat. “Kayn’s responsible for it.”

Perfect . He zoned out thinking about you when you’re right in front of him and he completely forgot to answer your question. Lucky enough, you don’t seem to mind.

“I’m… not sure I want to know the details.”

“It’s fine. I didn’t ask, either.” He chuckles. “I think it’s better not to.”

Your laughter rings beautifully like every song he’s ever loved. Everything feels new, and his thoughts are running a mile a minute, but he thinks he wants to take this jump into spontaneity and adventure with you.

“It’s getting late… I should head back. Gotta be on set early tomorrow.”

“Could we do this again?”

Your features soften into a teasing smile. “You like me already, don’t you?”

“Well, yes—”

“Of course, we can do this again,” you say gently, “I like you too, Yone. You don’t have to be so nervous around me.”

You reach over the table to take his hand in yours and he damn near short circuits at how your hand fits in so perfectly with his. He can barely process the coy glint in your eyes from how flustered he feels.

“I’ll walk you back.”

“Oh, a gentleman!” you chirp, “Now I wish I’d spoken to you sooner.”

The walk to the train station is too short for his liking. He’d really like to spend the rest of the night with you, but you still have things to do and Yone can’t be away for too long lest something happens in the dorm. As if you could sense him sulking, you gently tug on his sleeve and urge him to look at you. Before he can ask, you’re already leaning up to press a chaste kiss on his cheek, an action that has his eyes widening and his heart racing once again.

“I’ll see you again, Yone.”

His face feels like it’s burning as he watches you skip and disappear into the crowd. How can a single person reduce him to such a state so effortlessly? Still, he can’t help but look forward to the next time he’ll get to spend time with you again. He thinks you’re going to be quite the presence in his life and he’s more than happy to let that happen.

Yone usually regrets saying yes to what Kayn or Ezreal rope him in, but this time around, he doesn’t regret it at all. He couldn’t wait to see you again. Maybe without his friends meddling in this time, but he supposes he does have them to thank for leading him to you.

Plus, he still needs to get your number.

#yone x reader #heartsteel yone x reader #heartsteel x reader #league of legends x reader #all #bitchcraftinc #angelshubnetwork

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joelsdagger · 2 months

Text

let it flow | frankie morales x f!reader

read on ao3

pairing: sub!frankie x f!reader rating: 18+ minors dni word count: 4.4k (i think something possessed me bc this was originally 1k lmao) summary: you start a new form of birth control which has many side effects but frankie takes advantage of one side effect in particular. warnings: canon divergent, established relationship (reader and frankie are married), sub!frankie, soft dom!reader, body worship, pet names, nipple play, mommy kink, lactation kink, mutual masturbation , praise kink, pre-ejaculation, overstimulation, cumplay, cum eating, fluff. No use of Y/N. No physical descriptions of reader. um i think that’s it? *scratches neck* disclaimer: this is literally for shits and giggles bc a friend and i were talking about sub!frankie having a lactation kink, but we weren’t feeling the whole pregnancy trope so i found a loophole hehe. after extensive research, i found that certain types of birth control that include progestin *can* increase lactation as well as breast enlargement and tenderness, so i tweaked this specifically for the purpose of this fic. i don’t study medicine so some of this isn’t 100% accurate so if anything is wrong just remember this is just for horny fun and i changed some things to fit what i was going for. if this piece is not for you, that’s cool, obviously not everyone is gonna be into the same stuff but please just move along and let everyone else enjoy the fun.

a/n: thank you for all the love on my first fic i was so incredibly nervous about it but yall have been so so kind. technically, i told myself i would post this friday for frankie friday, but the longer shit stays in my drafts the more i start to hate it and the urge to scrape everything grows too strong lol. this one is for kat and lyss who gave me this idea and then we screamed about it til 1am. shout out to @skrunkly-scrimblo and @papurgaatika for beta’ing and literally always saving me bc i can never read my fics from start to finish so they always come thru during the editing process. and shout out to my pinterest QUEEN, @aurasjournal, for helping me with the visuals. thanks for reading i hope you like it <3 super cute divider by @saradika

You’re staring back at yourself in the foggy mirror of your bathroom, assessing your breasts, they’re full, heavy and they ache. This is the fourth day in a row of feeling the consequences of your new birth control and the pain has only gotten worse. “The shit we do….fuckin’ birth control,” you mumble under your breath.

You had switched to a different form of birth control earlier in the week, the IUD route wasn’t working out so well for you. For starters, the pain of getting the IUD implanted was unbelievably excruciating and on top of that, you had ParaGard (the copper IUD) implanted which didn’t have hormones so you were still getting your period. Your periods were heavy and painful and you have been seeking an alternative solution to stop them completely. At your last visit with your gynecologist, you both agreed to switch you over to taking birth control pills.

Your physician had informed you that the pill form was a progestin-only contraceptive that would decrease the bleeding during your menstrual cycle or possibly get rid of it completely if you skipped the placebo pills on the last week of your pack. There was one not-so-tiny problem, you were not told that being on the pill would make your tits swell and you sure as hell didn’t know the damn pill would make you lactate.

Earlier today you practically sobbed to your doctor on the phone.

“Doc, sorry to be blunt but my tits fucking hurt,” you cry, tears welling up in your eyes. At this point, the pain had become unbearable.

“That’s pretty normal hun, it’s a common side effect for some women. As I told you on Monday, the use of a hormonal birth control that contains progestin can increase the likelihood of producing breast milk even if you aren’t pregnant. It’s your hormones adjusting to the pill and it’s going to take your body three to four months to adjust,” your doctor explained.

‘Wait three to four months,” you shout, "Doc, you didn’t mention anything about that. What the hell am I supposed to do?” you ask rashly.

Your doctor hesitates, “Well, we could go back to the copper IUD but then-”

“Then, I’d get my period yeah absolutely not,” you frantically cut her off.

“We could book you to come back in and try another route but I’m booked until the end of the month,” she suggests.

“Of course you are, you’re like the only nice physician in the office, everyone wants to see you,” you laugh bitterly.

“There is something else that may help until we can see you in the office...many women have said that it helps,” she says.

You cross an arm around your chest, wincing slightly as your arm presses tightly against your chest, before dropping your arm back down at your side, “Okay…what is it?”

“You could massage them or have your husband stimulate your nipples,” she says nonchalantly.

“Stimulate my nipples?” you hesitate, your eyes widening at her suggestion.

“Yes, have him use his fingers or-”

“You’re not serious?”

Your doctor chuckles at your curiosity, “Yes, nipple stimulation and other sensual activities, can trigger and release the hormone, oxytocin, commonly referred to as the love hormone. Once oxytocin is triggered, your hormone levels are boosted and then it increases arousal and stress relief. Once it's released into the bloodstream, it helps alleviate breast tenderness and breast pain as well assisting with the flow of breast milk so yes, it’ll help.” she says pointedly.

You stare ahead, wide eyed and mouth agape. What the hell are you supposed to say to that?

“Look honey, many women have come in and told me directly that it helps, believe it or not, it even helps induce labor, but that’s beside the point, many women have been in your position and they have reported that it works. So at least try this out, and see how it makes you feel, just until we can get you an appointment and have you come in and then we can try something else. Alright?” she asks.

“Yeah alright, thanks again Doc,” you huff, your hand rubs at your temple before dragging it down your face.

“No problem hun, keep me updated through the portal,” she says.

“Will do,” you hung up the phone and tossed it on the couch.

That was six hours ago and now you’re standing in your bathroom as you wait for the bathtub to fill up. You read online that heat therapy could reduce some of the pain. While your husband was at work, you sprawled yourself out across the couch with a heating pad on your chest. It managed to ease the pain for a bit until the set timer turned the heating pad off and the second you stood up, the pain worsened again.

To be honest, you’re a little embarrassed to bring it up to Frankie. It's not like Frankie won’t want to do it, he’d be very interested but what the hell are you supposed to say to him. Hey honey, my tits hurt and they’re leaking breast milk. Can you play with them a little so they feel better? He loves to engage in a little titty appreciation but this is a whole different ball game. You really aren’t in the mood to have this conversation with Frankie tonight, unsure of how he would react and possibly causing a bigger issue.

You can hear the TV through the bathroom door, Frankie is watching some game. But when he hears you croak out in pain when you remove your bra, hands clutching at your swollen breasts, he moves lightning fast towards the bathroom door.

“Querida, are you alright in there?” he asks through the door, his hand wrapped around the door handle.

You bite down on your lip, sighing before you finally bite the bullet and admit what’s going on. You crack open the door just enough so he can hear you better.

“It’s-,” You let out another exhausted sigh as you rub your temple, feeling your cheeks warm.

“Remember, a few days ago, I went to my gynecologist and we decided to switch birth control methods?” He nods, eyes full of concern.

“The pills are making my hormones go crazy and they’re making my tits swell and well…” you pull the door open to gesture towards your breasts. “I’m like a fucking pregnant woman but without the damn pregnancy,” you grumble.

You immediately clock the worry on his face but Frankie can’t help the fact that he is practically salivating when he looks down at your tits. You notice his jaw slacken, his lips part as he takes in the curve of your breasts, they have grown a noticeable difference in size. You hear him inhale sharply when his stare drops to your nipples, dark and swollen.

Suddenly feeling a little shy under the intensity of his gaze, you bring a hand up to cover your breasts, he inhales once again before speaking, yet you speak before he does, “It’s fine, apparently a bath will help, and I’ve got the water running. I’ll be out in a few minutes babe,” you press, a tight smile on your face.

You see it all over his face, he wants to help but he doesn’t know how. His big, deep brown eyes filled with worry. “Okay baby, I’ll give you some privacy. I’ll be in the bedroom if you need anything,” he says quietly, eyebrows still raised. You can sense the uneasiness in his body language but he doesn’t press the subject.

You thank him and shut the door, hearing him step back towards the bed. You slip off your panties and toss them into the hamper, then step into the hot water, sighing as you dip beneath the water.

After a few short minutes, you slowly bring your hands up to cup your breasts, experimentally kneading them. You press your hands more firmly and you bite down on your lip as you try to muffle a quiet moan. Huh. It does help. You continue toying with them until the water is no longer warm and your fingers become pruny.

Dragging yourself out of the water and stepping out of the tub, you pull the plug out, the water spinning through the drain. Leisurely, you dry yourself off, pull a thin white tank top over your head, and drag a clean pair of blue lace panties over your legs.

As you open the door to let the steam out of the bathroom, you grab your fuzzy robe from the hook behind the door, wrap it around your damp body, and head into the bedroom to catch the rest of the game with your husband.

Yet, to your surprise, you find the TV off and instead see Frankie sitting up in bed, one hand tucked behind his head and the other holding his phone as he squints at the screen.

You chuckle as you walk over to your nightstand. “Thought you were supposed to be wearing your glasses?” You tease, your lips forming into a smile.

“I look dorky with ‘em, ‘sides I don’t need them right now,” he mimics your tone and turns his head to watch as you pump some of your cocoa butter body lotion into your hand and work it into your skin.

“So, I did some googling,” he starts, a sly smirk creeping up onto his face as he continues, “It said…messaging them and sucking on them would help.” His eyes are still on the bare parts of your damp skin, completely enamored by how your skin looks in the dim light of your bedroom.

You tense, hands freezing, streaks of lotion yet to be fully rubbed into your skin, “Baby, that’s ridiculous,” you laugh him off.

“No, I’m serious look,” Frankie sits up and moves across the bed, holding out his phone for you to read the article he was studying beforehand.

“I don’t know about this Frankie,” you shake your head, frowning while you avert your eyes from his.

“Come here,” smirking devilishly as he brings his hands up to your arms, pulling you towards the bed.

“Frankie–” you scoff, playfully rolling your eyes at him.

He tilts his head up to look up at you with those big brown eyes that you often find difficult turning down. “Trust me,” his hands rubbing up and down your arms soothingly.

“You know I do, Frankie, the hell did I marry you for,” you tease, you sneak your hands behind his neck and interlock your fingers as you lean down and press a soft kiss to his head.

“Then c’mere, let me help,” he whispers and it sounds more like a plea. He’s pulling you down onto the bed, guiding you to sit up against the pillows. His hands find your robe, untying the knot in the soft belt across your waist. You lean forward slightly while he pulls your robe off slowly, his eyes watching your face, searching for any indication to stop but he doesn’t find any.

He tosses the robe behind him on the bed as he leans down over you, nudging your legs open as he settles himself between your legs. He brings his hands back up to the thin material of your tank top, cupping your tender breasts in his large hands.

“You’re so beautiful, so perfect, fuck–, so pretty baby,” he babbles lowly, goosebumps erupt on your skin, even after years of being married to him he still knows exactly what to say to make you feel so desirable.

He gently squeezes your breasts, his thumb sweeps over your nipple back and forth, you whine softly as your hands find his hair, burying your fingers in his curls. It hurts but it’s pleasurable, the pressure he’s using feels better than what you were doing earlier in the bath.

Frankie pinches your covered nipples between his rough fingers, hardening under his touch, you hiss when he tweaks them tightly, Frankie pauses, his eyes meet yours for a moment, “it’s okay–feels good, keep going,” you whisper to him.

He brings his mouth down to one of your nipples and sucks it through the material with his other hand still fondling your other nipple. “Fuck– that feels good Frankie,” you moan, he whimpers lowly and feels his cock twitch in his boxers. Your eyes roll back in your head, your mouth falls open and he hollows his cheeks, sucking harder around your nipple.

His mouth lets go of your breast, you look down to see the wet patch that formed over your peaked-covered nipple before he hastily pulls the tank top over your head, tossing it onto the floor, Frankie lets out a shameless groan when his eyes hungrily lock on your bare chest like a missile to a target.

He leans in closer, his mouth hovering over your breast. You feel the warmth of his breath over your breast, a tingling sensation sneaks down your body. His hot mouth closes around your pebbled nipple.

“Shit, Frankie,” you arch further into his mouth, and he moans and his tongue flicks up against your peaked nipple, and then he bites down softly, his eyes open, looking up at you from under his eyelashes. Frankie feels a slight warm gush fill his mouth, his eyes slip closed, whimpering around the bud.

You tug on Frankie’s hair, pulling his mouth away from you, your stomach twisting at his reaction when he feels the gush of liquid filling his mouth. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know that would happen-”

“Baby, hey, it’s okay. I was just surprised-”

“No I know, it’s just gross,” you frown, feeling the pang of embarrassment in your belly.

“It’s not–it’s not gross. I–I liked it,” Frankie says sheepishly.

“Really?” you ask softly.

He laughs lightly and leans forward to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth then another just below your jaw. His beard scraping along your skin as he places wet open-mouthed kisses down your neck, all the way down past your collarbones until he reaches the valley of your breasts once again.

“Relax baby, I got ya,” he whispers against your skin.

Your eyes squeeze shut, your head falls back against the headboard, and your hand comes up to the nape of his neck, petting at his long brown curls. He ducks down to bring his mouth to your nipple, he parts his lips around the bud, his tongue circling around the bud a few times, licking at your nipple, he closes his lips and sucks softly before tugging it between his teeth, he hums around it, making you grasp at the sheets beneath you, a low ache building in the pit of your stomach.

“That’s it baby boy,” you say softly, petting his hair. You open your eyes when you feel him press his cock against your leg, his cock stirring in his boxers at your praise.

He’s loving this, loves the taste of you and loves how good he’s making you feel.

His hand palms your other breast, squeezing and kneading the meat of your tit, beads of milk collecting at the peak. He takes your nipple in between his calloused fingers and pinches it harder between his index and middle finger, the milk pours out from the bud down his hand and onto his forearm.

Frankie feels the warm liquid on his arm, his mouth letting go of your breast, his pupils full of lust never leaving your face as he lifts his left hand up and licks a long slow, thick stripe from his forearm up his hand. Your mouth falls open and your chest heaves at the sight.

“You taste so fucking sweet, baby,” he groans, his eyes closing at the taste of you. His cock twitches against your leg, now painfully hard in his boxers.

He dips his head back down and licks up the milk leaking down your torso up to your nipple. He moans once his hot mouth latches around the stiff peak and his tongue swirls around it. He laps up the warm white liquid he’s sucking out of your breast. “There you go baby, just like that,” you sigh, closing your eyes and your head falls back against the headboard.

One of his knees perches onto your leg, he grinds his cock against the meat of your thigh, he moans deeply, his fingers digging into the flesh of your breasts. “So, needy for me huh, baby boy,” you tut, gripping firmly onto his soft curls.

He whines quietly, and unbeknownst to Frankie, he starts rutting his hard length against your leg in slow, shallow thrusts, you feel a rumble of a moan in his throat around your nipple. At the sudden movement, your head snaps up to see your husband getting himself off against your body, his teeth sinking into your breast.

You’ve never seen him like this before, he’s insatiable and relentless and it makes your pussy pulse and clench around nothing.

“Ohhh that’s it– good boy Frankie,” you moan breathlessly, feeling him suck harder on your breast with a deep groan.

You grab at Frankie’s hair again, your hand combs his hair back while tugging at his hair, gently pulling his head back and he whines loudly when you pull his mouth away from your breast. You catch a glistening sheen on his lips when you direct his head to your other breast.

Your eyes meet his dark, blown out pupils as your thumb rubs his cheek down to the corner of his mouth. You thumb the bottom of his plump, soft lip, wiping the milk off of his mouth. Your thumb slips between his lips and you whisper, “Who’s my good boy?”

He shivers beneath your touch, “I am,” he murmurs softly, his head resting down on your chest once again. Your hand cradles his head and you move your hand down along his head to cup his face.

You watch your husband’s eyes shut as he closes his mouth around your nipple and continues suckling from your breast, “Fuck– Frankie, keep going,” you pant into his hair, your hands still toying with his curls, eliciting another whine from him.

He shifts and begins fucking himself into the mattress once again, seeking any type of friction possible.

Watching your husband getting himself off to your body sends a sharp, hot spark of arousal down your spine straight to your core, your pussy throbbing and your panties now wet and sticky with your slick.

You smirk and bring your lips down to his ear, whispering the word that you know lights a fire within him. “You’re making mommy feel so good baby,” and Frankie whimpers, his mouth swallowing your breast whole, his hips grinding down faster into the mattress.

“That’s it, baby, atta boy, such a good boy for mommy,” you coo into his ear. Frankie lets out a high-pitched whine, his hips stuttering and groaning when he feels himself spilling out all over the inside of his boxers. Your mouth falls open, your eyes wide as you stare at him, realizing he just came simply from putting his mouth on you.

His hips shudder, occasionally jerking erratically, his legs shaking uncontrollably as he hisses from overstimulation, you continue whispering praises into his ears.

While his mouth works on relieving your breast you take matters into your own hands, bringing your fingers down to your neglected cunt. You press your fingers into your covered slit, feeling the wetness of your pussy through the material before pushing your panties to the side. You move your fingers to your throbbing clit, circling eagerly while his tongue swirls over your nipple.

He bites down on the bud a little more harshly, feeling another gush of warm liquid in his mouth, “tastes so good mi corozòn,” he whimpers against your breast, closing his eyes while his teeth nip at the wet bud.

Feeling a cooling wetness from his eyes seeping onto your breast, you briefly look down to find tears stinging his eyes from the pleasure, the teeth marks on your nipples, your skin all wet and red from his mouth.

He continues sucking at your breast, licking up the sweet taste of you into his mouth and moaning around your nipple, savoring the taste.

You slip your fingers into your wet heat with a moan. “So good, Frankie, ohhh– you’re doing so well for mommy,” you gasp out while grinding your hips up into your own hand. He whimpers, his cock twitches, throbbing lightly against the mattress, he’s getting hard just from hearing that word once again.

Your other hand roughly tugs on Frankie’s soft locks, pushing his head further into you, swallowing more of your breast into his mouth.

Frankie was too far gone to notice, but you realize he’s grinding himself into the bed once again, still moaning and whimpering into your tender flesh. You thrust your fingers into your pussy, timing them to Frankie’s thrusts into the bed, the wet squelch from your fingers thrusting in and out obscenely echoes in your bedroom.

“That’s perfect, Frankie— don– don’t stop…shit. I’m so close–” You curl your fingers inside yourself, petting at the spongy spot deep inside while his teeth nip and lick and suck at your tit.

You shout Frankie’s name as your back arches off the bed, legs shaking around Frankie’s body when your orgasm finally sweeps over you.

He pulls off your nipple with a wet pop, moving fast to sit up and back on his knees, his hands making quick work of pulling off his underwear. His cock bobs up against the soft swell of his stomach. He hisses when he wraps a large hand around the girth and he thumbs the wide blunt of his tip smearing the beads of pearly white dribbling out from the slit.

Your tongue pokes out, licking your bottom lip before biting down on the flesh. Your hands massage your breasts, your fingers pinching your erect, sensitive nipples under Frankie’s fucked out gaze.

Desperately, he fists his cock over your figure. “Come, baby. Be a good boy and come for mommy,” you order him while staring into his eyes, dark and dilated, his mouth hanging open as he strokes his cock.

Your low voice and your words are all he needs to bring him over the edge. The thrusting of his hips gets more erratic as he jacks his cock tighter in his hand and increases the pace, the wet, lewd slap from his strokes gets louder, his whimpers and pants filling the otherwise quiet room.

“There you go, atta boy, give it to me Frankie, let it out," you encourage him softly.

Your eyes watch the muscles in his soft belly tighten and his thighs tensing up, his moans growing louder and louder and louder, his eyes roll back into his head, “Fuck– mami,” a long drawn out, agonizing groan slipping past his lips, you watch as his cock twitches in his hand, his hips stammer as long, thick, warm ropes of cum paint your stomach.

“That’s it baby, just like that, you did so good. So good Frankie,” you murmur. He opens his eyes and looks back down at you, still catching his breath while he watches the last of his cum spill onto your swollen breasts, he groans seeing the marks he’s left on your skin. Your tits are covered in splotches of red and teeth marks from his mouth, his come and the milk from your breasts leaking down your chest and onto your stomach.

His hair is a mess, his pupils are blown out, he looks completely in a haze, utterly fucked out. You smirk up at him and click your tongue, “You made such a mess on mommy, Frankie.”

His cheeks warm, the redness creeping down his neck and chest, he’s embarrassed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to do that,” he mumbles, his hand scratching the back of his neck.

You move your fingers down your stomach, gathering his cum onto your fingers, “Don’t get shy on me now, come here my love,” your other hand reaches for him.

He crawls up towards your side, you slip a coated finger into your mouth and you close your eyes and hum. Frankie curses quietly to himself, seeing your pearly-covered finger slipping into your mouth and back out devoid of sheen.

You bring a finger up to his mouth, your fingertip pressing against his lips, “open,” you order. You take advantage of his jaw slackening, sticking your glossy finger into his mouth and his lips close around your digit. You feel his tongue flatten underneath your finger then swirls it around your finger as he sucks it clean, he closes his eyes, his brows furrow, and he moans at the salty taste.

“See, I keep telling you, you taste good, sweetheart,” you smile down at him, tucking a single brown lock behind his ear.

“You did so good for me baby, made me feel so good,” you tell him while holding his patchy-bearded face. He chuckles timidly before pressing his lips to yours, licking behind your teeth, tasting himself in your mouth and mumbles a faint I love you against your lips.

Frankie pecks your lips again before sitting up and walking over to the bathroom. You hear him flick the light on and the tap turning on and off while your eyes drift shut. You feel the warm wet rag dragging across your tummy and your tits, and then down between your folds as he cleans you up with tenderness.

You open your eyes again when you hear him pad off towards the bathroom once more, watching him toss the washcloth back in the bathroom before he tucks himself into your side and nuzzles his face into the valley of your breasts, the coarse hairs of his beard tickling your skin.

Frankie’s low voice breaks the comfortable silence, “Next time it hurts, you tell me cariño, ‘m more than happy to do that again,” he says shyly, feeling the smile on his face against your chest.

You fail to suppress your giggle, “Yeah, you enjoyed yourself didn’t you, sweet boy?” Your fingers run through his long soft brown curls, your fingertips grazing down his neck, a hint of sweat at the end of his hair along the back of his neck.

“Mhm,” he hums, and you grin into his hair, pressing your lips to his messy curls, your eyelids heavy with sleep. He feels your fingers still, Frankie tilts his head to look up at you, “Don’t fall asleep yet, we’re not done mi vida, I still need to make you come again.”

#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales #sub!frankie morales #triple frontier fanfiction #frankie morales smut #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x y/n #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales fanfic #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #noelle's workshop #noelle writes

208 notes · View notes

bartxnhood · 1 year

Text

all the stars | atwow

| sully!family x fem!sully!reader

summary: based on this request.

warnings: reading feeling insecure, crying, jake and neytiri being the best parents to you

word bank: skxawng- idiot. ite- daughter. sa’nok - mother. itetsyip - little daughter(endearing). mawey - calm.

a/n: hi my lovies !! this is my first ever avatar piece so i’m so very sorry if it isn’t entirely accurate. i also haven’t seen twow yet (but i’ve basically had the entire movie spoiled so😭) so, im always open for criticism and feedback. also this didn’t go in the direction i wanted it to but i still hope you all enjoy this one <3

not proofread

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growing up as a sully had its hardships. you were different from the other na’vi people because of who your father was. they saw you differently, you had an extra finger, and you were slightly shorter than your siblings and the people in your village.

but, it never stopped your family from loving you unconditionally. jake was your number one supporter, as his firstborn daughter he was highly protective of you but he gave you the freedom you deserved because he knew you could handle yourself and he always kept an eye out for you.

neytiri, your mother was strong, brave, and capable of anything she had to do. you took a lot after her, you were skilled when it came to hunting. she taught you everything you knew. she was so proud to be your mother, to have you as her daughter. you were the most beautiful thing she had done.

you were very close with your siblings. growing up, you were still young with lo’ak was born but with kiri and tuk you would always play with them, you were the big sister everyone dreamed of.

with neteyam, it was different. sure, he may be older but you were always a helping hand if he needed you. or, if he was having a hard time he always came to you. he took care of you as an older brother should, but sometimes he just needs a shoulder to lean on.

“y/n!” tuk cheered as you walked back to your home, you had gone out with kiri for a while to enjoy nature and help your sister find some items for her jewelry making. “tuk-tuk!” you beamed as she ran into your arms. “i made you something!” she handed you a piece of jewelry she had made, “oh my, ewya, this is gorgeous!” you grinned, “thank you” she watched as you put the piece on and she giggled. “so pretty!” tuk left your embrace, leading you back home where you were met with the rest of your family.

on one occasion, lo’ak, neteyam, and your father went out to hunt for a while but when they returned you knew the atmosphere was dull. mostly coming from lo’ak, you felt his sadness. “did he yell at you again?” you pulled lo’ak to the side he nodded, hanging his head low. “i’ll talk with him, okay?” you smiled, bringing your younger brother into a hug. “stay out of trouble, skxawng” the both of you laughed.

you were the daughter and sister they adored.

though, when you arrived at the metkayina clan things shifted. you weren’t as happy as you used to be, and it was hard adjusting to the different lifestyle. it didn’t help how the people saw you as a demon, often making comments on your appearance.

of course, you changed. you were slowly beginning to hate yourself.

“ma ite” your ears perked up, whipping your head around to find your mother who was approaching. “sa’nok” you answered, looking down at the sand. “what is wrong my child?” she questioned, coming by your side. it was late into the night, you weren’t able to sleep. you were tired of being alone with your mind so, you decided to get up and sit for a while in attempts to clear your head.

your family had moved to the oceanside in hopes of refuge. unlike the others, you felt alone. compared to the forest this was all so different, you missed playing in the trees, laying in the lush forest grass with your siblings. getting used to the sand and water was different, but oh was it beautiful.

the others noticed how you were different they’d poke fun at your height, your hands, your fingers, and your hair. it hurt, you’d stay up every night wondering if you were the problem.

were you that much of a disappointment to your family?

you shrugged, turning and facing the sea. “i don’t know, mother” you lied, fidgeting with your fingers. “just could not sleep” you felt her hand rest on your shoulder, of course, you knew that she knew something was wrong. it was your mother, she knew everything. “something is troubling you” you nodded, pursing your lips. “what is it, my child?” tears welled in your eyes, ears flattened as you looked at your lap. “i’m alien. everyone hates me.”

neytiri felt her heartbreak, seeing you like this and thinking people could hate you. how could anyone hate her special girl? she pulled you close to her, resting her head on yours as you quietly sobbed into her chest “oh..itetsyip” she cooed, brushing your hair behind your ear.

“what’s going on?” jake emerges from the hut after hearing a bit of commotion. you both raised your head turning back to find your father. his eyes scanned you, and seeing your puffy eyes he went into full dad mode. then, he looked at neytiri and they held eye contact for a moment.

you weren’t okay.

“what’s wrong, babygirl?” he asked, coming to your side. you felt a lump in your throat when he asked, all this time you had been bottling it up and now, you were about to explode. “i’m so tired” you cried, falling into his arms. jake held you tightly, neytiri rubbing your back gently, “shhh, mawey mawey.” your mother hushed your cries.

“i’m sorry if i’m a disappointment, father. i’m trying my hardest” you cried into his arms. you weren’t able to take the pain much longer. you began to hate yourself. “look at me.” he pulled you from his embrace, holding your face. “you are not a disappointment. i don’t want you to ever say that about yourself again, okay?”

as a father, you’d never want to hear your children say they were a disappointment. you were the greatest thing jake ever did. “yes sir” you nodded, wiping away your tears. “my daughter.” neytiri grabbed your attention, wiping away your tears. “ewya blessed me with the honor of being your mother.” she smiled sadly, “more than all of the stars in the sky, you are so loved. ma y/n” she pressed a kiss on the top of your head.

“let us go to bed now, it is late.” she stood up, reaching for your hands and jake followed suit.

#avatar x reader #jake sully x reader #neytiri x reader #lo’ak x reader #neteyam x reader #kiri x reader #tuktirey #avatar imagine #avatar the way of water #atwow fanfiction #sully family #na’vi reader #y/n #avatar family #neteyam x na'vi!reader #jake sully x daughter #lo’ak x sister!reader

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koinotame · 27 days

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boob windows. that's it that's the fic

word count: 1.1K content warnings: this is meant to be yandere au and sagau/self aware au so uh. hint of that, but mostly just crack. nothing Super Nsfw but the whole thing is raunchy and suggestive humour

characters included: mostly ei, but childe, kaeya and briefly zhongli also make an appearance with some others mentioned

a/n: this is a repost (slightly edited)! this was on my to-edit-&-repost list for a while now and this seemed like a good day to do so lol. alas this was originally written before the sumeru release so while editing there wasn't really an opportunity for me to add in wriothesley apparently out-butting zhongli or lyney's tigh high garters and i only just realised kaveh could technically also count here so uh. forgive me. i'll write something for them some day

"is… is everything alright, your grace?"

you loudly suck up another boba pearl, not moving your gaze from where it’s been lodged the past several minutes. "mm, everything’s fine."

ei fidgets in front of you, the cup held tightly in her hands still almost full. she looks unsure, but decides that she knows better than to question you. "if you say so."

it’s clear this isn’t what she had in mind when she personally came to see you instead of sending the raiden shōgun to greet and attend to you. the one time she comes out of her plane, all you’re seemingly doing is ignoring all table manners and gawking at her chest.

yes, that’s right, you’re ogling her chest. or, more accurately, you’re ogling her tiddy window.

between her and kaeya, she’s showing off much more chest. but then kaeya knows what he’s doing, while ei just seems to have it there for convenience over aesthetic…

you squint at her while you get lost in thoughts, and ei’s fidgeting intensifies.

ah shit. you forgot about itto. he wins in terms of who shows off their chest the most, you guess. he’s even wearing that… you’re not sure what to call it but tit belt fits well enough. anyway, the tit belt accentuates his pecs very, very nicely, although they do hide his nips from sight. alas.

you suppose gorou and cyno also exist, but they don’t have the same appeal. oh, and navia and la signora, but both of them are just wearing a sleeveless, collarless dress, so you’re not sure that counts either.

but then by that argument, does itto count? he’s not even wearing a shirt. cyno isn’t wearing a shirt either. and what gorou has is more of a tummy window than anything… but he does have that little window?

between gorou and childe, gorou is definitely winning though. you’d apologise for slandering your poor ajax but between the little triangle he shows off and gorou’s entire tummy out… you’re not sorry. though… there’s something to be said about a small slither of skin inviting you to stick your hands into that gorou having his whole tummy out doesn’t have.

wait, wait. you just had a genius idea. actually, two.

first of all, zhongli with a tiddy window… you are considering. then again, you guess his biggest asset is his bubble butt.

second, and way bigger: an idol group with some of your characters… but they all have tiddy windows.

"…your grace?"

you’re brought out of your stupor by ei, who is gazing in concern at you. you blink at her.

she struggles to find words. "are… are you sure everything is alright? is something not to your liking?"

it’s then that you realise you’ve started drooling at some point. shit.

you hurriedly wipe at it and clear your throat. "yeah, I’m sure. sorry, were you saying anything?"

she looks taken aback. "no, please don’t apologise. I should be the one to… I shouldn’t have interrupted your thinking."

it’s then that childe happens to walk by, and, like the attention hog he is, tries to get a foot into the conversation. you stay mostly unresponsive while the two chat (which seems to be mostly childe trying to hold a conversation with you while ei admonishes him), your eyes drifting back to ei’s tiddy window.

you really could stare at that for the rest of your life.

childe then follows your line of sight and chokes.

…though more because of him trying to laugh while choking on the dango he was eating than embarrassment at having caught onto your very appropriate thoughts.

ei looks confused but makes no move to help him other than pushing his head away from the table so he doesn’t make a mess. you honestly can’t bring yourself to be embarrassed.

he finally manages to swallow properly (you almost want to pat him on the back and praise him for swallowing like a good boy) before turning to you.

"do you want me to strip? my chest looks much nicer, I assure you."

you and ei stare at him.

he raises his eyebrows, pointing at her. "her skin looks way too soft and pampered." she looks almost offended. "mine’s covered in scars and I have actual muscles, doesn’t that feel much better for fondling?"

"what if…" you lean closer to him mischievously, like you’re about to tell him some big secret. "I prefer soft chests?"

he deflates. ei flushes, ducking her head into her still-near-full cup of bubble tea. "well, if that’s what you prefer… I can’t get rid of the scars, but I can stop working out. hmm…" he looks like he’s starting to make serious plans.

"no, I honestly don’t really care. all tiddy is good tiddy." you clap your hands. "anyway! it’s more about the boob window. you already have a (sad) tummy window, so it wouldn’t work."

"why not? wouldn’t that be double the sexy?"

"no, it cancels out."

you’re going to ignore whatever gorou has going on, because that works pretty well.

ei looks unfathomably lost.

"and anyway, if we’re talking about tummy windows, gorou wins."

he deflates further.

then he perks up.

"what about…" he brings his fingers to his face. you think it’s an attempt at looking cool. "butt window?"

you deadpan. "have fun getting arrested for public indecency."

he winks at you. "I wouldn’t mind getting arrested if you’re the one punishing me."

you have to physically hold the electro archon back.

"why, I wasn’t expecting to run into any of you here. what are you three up to?" kaeya’s voice cuts through ei’s snarls all of a sudden. he seems amused, but there’s an edge in the way he eyes childe.

"I am definitely sexier than any archon or soldier," childe says at the exact same time that you say "we’re discussing tiddy windows."

kaeya lets out something between a snort and a chuckle. it’s a pretty sound, but you can’t let yourself be distracted by him. he knows what he’s doing.

"oh? in that department, don’t I win?"

you stare intently at his.

"do you want to touch?"

you move your stare to his face. "am I allowed to?"

he smiles, mirth in his eye. "you needn’t ask. all of me belongs to you, and that includes my chest."

you seriously consider it and childe takes the opportunity to shove himself between the two of you.

"wait, wait! I offered first! ignore him, I’m right here!" "your grace," ei cuts in, "if you’d like to, I don’t mind you touching any part of me."

"ugh, fine, fine! I’ll just sample all of you then. if you’re sure you’re okay with it."

zhongli, somehow, picks the absolute worst moment to walk in.

the look on his face is priceless (you can’t tell if he looks offended or jealous), but even that doesn’t compare to the feeling of soft tiddy in your hands.

you were right, tiddy windows really are the best.

#yandere #yandere x reader #x reader #genshin impact #yandere genshin impact #self aware au #self aware genshin #not sfw #lime #realistically ei probably WOULD have muscles (if not more than him) but. 1. none of the nonhuman characters in this game look like #they have an appropriate amount of muscle #and 2. the shogun is a puppet that presumably doesn't have actual muscles in the same sense as humans do in the first place. so.#i THINK this was supposed to take place in your teapot (hence why everyone is there despite logistics) but imagine whatever you want

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vandnana · 1 year

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In Love With The Enemy [Prologue]

Prologue: Playing Scientist

pairing: lo’ak x female turned na’vi reader

summary: during the time when jake became toruk makto, you were quaritch’s youngest and most valued soldier, the daughter he never had. but, pandora changed you and you died during the final battle, betraying quaritch and wishing that you had been able to do more. now, you have been reborn again, as a na’vi, tasked with quaritch’s new military avatar crew to kill Jake Sully. taking advantage of this second chance at life, you help the Sullys and fall in love along the way.

genre: fluff, angst

highlights: grace being like a mother to you and jake being like your father figure while quaritch is in his toxic dad era

warnings: mentions of blood, war, violence, adult language

word count: 6,265

note: thank you to everyone who has been so excited for this series! i wasn’t originally going to make this prologue, but i really wanted to establish the reader’s old life before she was revived and how close the reader was to jake and grace first before diving into the rest of the series!

[chapter 1] [chapter 2]

The forest of Pandora holds many dangers, but the most dangerous thing about her is that you may grow to love her too much.

You were the youngest in the regiment back then, too young for war and far too young for what was in store for you in Pandora. But, Quaritch took you in when you were a child. You had no family, no home, and no promise of a real future. He had seen himself in you: cunning, willing, strong, and unafraid. You were everything he could have hoped for in a daughter, but you were real. His prodigy. And not a day went by when you didn’t live up to those expectations. You loved being with Quaritch. He had become your father and he always thought that nothing could ever change that.

Then you met Grace.

You were only a child when you first met her, and having been around army dogs your whole life, meeting her was a breath of fresh air, air that you never knew you were missing.

She was hesitant at first. You were Quaritch’s kid, an actual carbon-copy of the worst trigger-happy moron out there. Yet, even with all your harsh military training, you maintained an unmistakeable innocence in your eyes, an innocence that Grace couldn’t ignore when you asked her to teach you about Pandora, about the Na’vi, about the avatars. You were curious, genuinely curious and for Grace, although she would never admit it, it was refreshing too.

“You know, for a little Marine, you’re actually pretty smart.” She was watching you with her elbow resting on the lab table as you took notes of your findings, your eyes glued to your notebook

You didn’t look up at her, “I don’t know about that. I just did what you told me to.”

She put a hand on top of your notebook, halting the pen in your hand, “What I told you to do was simply look at the sample.”

You looked at her with confused eyes, and she sighed, taking the notebook out of your reach.

Holding it up, she displayed your work in front of you, eyes flitting from your notebook to you, “I did not tell you classify your observations and make a surprisingly accurate diagram of the snaketree’s cellular levels.”

You nodded, acknowledging your mistake. You had disobeyed a direct order and unsure what else to say, you apologized on instinct. “I’m sorry, ma’am. It won’t happen again.”

Grace looked at you in awe, laughing suddenly, “This isn’t military training numbnuts. What you did was good work, real good work. I’m impressed.”

“Are you serious?” You were still in disbelief, but the feeling in your chest was one you’d never had before.

She smacked you lightly on the head, “Yes! You’re smarter than all the idiots in your squad, especially your father. And from now on, don’t call me ma’am, okay?”

You rubbed where she had hit you, smiling as you nodded, “Yes ma- I mean, yes Grace.”

Suddenly, you understood what you felt in your chest. It was different from the feeling you would get when you were praised by Quaritch. This feeling, it was like being recognized by a mother. Yes, you were that cunning, willing, strong, and fearless girl that Quaritch adored, but you were also smart beyond what you were told and you had an admirable moral compass that put the rest of your squad to shame.

Grace never let you forget that.

Still, you were Quaritch’s daughter, and being his daughter meant that you had to take on the role of who you always were. His perfect soldier.

The more time you spent on Pandora, the more you began to see past the façade you let yourself believe for so long. The mission was never about finding diplomatic solutions or building alliances. It was about destruction, money, and humanity’s wretched twist on glory, a misguided glory that Quaritch was more than happy to fulfill.

When Jake came on board, your father saw that potential, a soldier in with the wrong crowd, the thought invoking a vile taste in his mouth. Yet, with all his personal notions aside, there was an opportunity to be poached.

Jake was the key to the glory he was chasing.

Quaritch spared no time asking you to summon Jake. He was going to offer him a deal, one that he simply couldn’t refuse. You obliged to the simple request, but your heart was heavy. Six years you had been on Pandora and relations with the indigenous were only getting worse, and with Jake, your father finally found a reliable mole to fulfill his duties.

You made the short journey to the lab, the way so embedded into you that your legs were working on pure muscle memory. It had been a while since you had been there, too busy with AMP suit duty and perimeter watch to have any time to stop by. You commanded attention instantly walking through the door, the scientists greeting you warmly as you brushed past them.

Jake, who looked unabashedly lost among the labcoats, immediately looked your way, and seeing you in your full camo, he almost seemed relieved, the pristine, formalin smell of the lab permeating his nose was enough to suffocate him as he sat there, bored out of his mind.

“Jake Sully?” You approached, your demeanor intimidating at first, but betrayed by the smile on your face when you looked past him, waving.

He looked behind him to see Grace with a disapproving look in her eyes, “Shouldn’t you be playing soldier, little girl?”

“I am playing soldier...unfortunately. Which is why I’m here. I need to borrow yours.” You replied, turning your gaze to Jake.

Grace sighed, “Go ahead and take him. He’s pretty much useless here anyway,” Jake looked up at her, but he said nothing, merely scoffing.

“Don’t worry. I’ll return him to you as soon as possible.” You said sarcastically, putting your hand out in front of her and extending your pinkie, “I pinky promise.”

You laughed as she rolled her eyes at you, pushing your hand away, “I’d actually rather you keep him, but Selfridge seems to think I need another idiot with a gun.”

“Come on, play nice, Grace.” You reasoned.

She crossed her arms, lowering her eyes at such a hopeless request, “Just get the Marine out of my sight, will you? You’d be doing me such a favor, y/n.”

You glanced down at Jake, who was holding back all the snappy responses that were just at the tip of his tongue.

“Favor granted.” You replied simply with a smile, walking away, Jake following behind you.

As you reached the doorway, you halted, turning your head back, “I saw those samples you got earlier. I’ll sneak back here after dinner, just don’t look at them without me, okay?”

Looking over her shoulder, Grace couldn’t help but concede to a grin, “Wouldn’t dream of it, but it’s Max you really have to worry about.”

You put a finger out pointedly, your tone stern, “Tell him I’ll shoot him if he touches them.”

Grace chuckled, “Alright, alright miss Marine. I’ll pass along the message.”

With a final wave, you left, navigating through the halls with Jake beside you, “Sorry about Grace. She’s always prickly at first, but she’ll warm up to you eventually.”

“No kidding.” Jake huffed, looking up at you curiously as he kept up with your pace, “Where are you taking me anyway?”

“The Colonel wants to see you.” You replied, the heaviness in your heart suddenly obvious as you walked, the hallway widening out into one of the base’s hangars, the multiple flyers and AMP suits becoming your audience as you passed them.

Jake maintained his inspecting tone, eyes flitting from the path in front of him to you, “So, what are you? A soldier or one of the science sorties?”

“Oo “science sortie” I haven’t heard that one before.” You replied sarcastically, but you maintained your placid grin, “I’m y/n.”

He nodded, but still he continued, his tone so arrogant that it almost felt insulting, “Okay y/n...you didn’t answer my question. Playing soldier and playing scientist are two completely different games.”

You scoffed, making eye contact as you pointed to his legs, “And what’s your game? Are you a Marine or are you a cripple?”

He was stunned, having no clever retort, resorting to a simple shrug, “May be out, but you never lose the attitude.”

Having heard all the military cliches, you chuckled, “Look, there’s no game here. Not on Pandora. These RDA goons and this greedy company think they’re on the winning side of a pointless war. To be honest with you, I’d rather be doing what you’re doing.”

“So why aren’t you?” Jake asked, stopping to face you.

You halted, meeting his gaze, your expression visibly troubled.

“Lieutenant Quaritch.” A deep voice called from behind you, and you turned receiving the soldier’s salute.

“Warren...what can I do for you?” You asked.

The soldier pointed to one of the flyers just ahead, your best friend Trudy waving to you as your eyes stopped where she was, “I’ve been relieved of doorman duty. Trudy wanted me to tell you the spot is open for the taking.

Turning your attention to Jake, you asked, “How do you feel about being a doorman? Trudy flies all your “science sorties.”

Immediately, Jake agreed, “I’m your guy.”

Warren saluted again, acknowledging Jake with a nod before returning to the flyer.

The disgruntled expression on your face only lasted for a moment, but Jake saw it right away, his eyes softening as he looked at you. He wasn’t all that convinced of his position being covetable or about this war you had talked about, but he did understand the pressure you were under.

Choosing to lighten the mood, Jake took an opportunity to tease you, clearing his throat before speaking, “Lieutenant Quaritch, huh? That must get you a lot of dates.”

Somehow, Jake knew that it was exactly what you needed, wanting to avoid the conversation in front of too many prying ears. You gave into your own laughter, you responded snarkily, “Probably the same amount as you, old man.”

Jake scoffed, “Old man? I’m not that much older than you.”

Your eyes darted upward as you put a finger to your chin, your expression filled with feigned wonderment, “Really? I mean, you look like you’ve earned your senior discount with that wheelchair.”

He chuckled to himself, amused as he retorted, “I’m sure my senior discount doesn’t do your kids meal justice.”

You threw your head back in another fit of laughter, “I’ll give you that one Sully. For now.”

Stopping, you outstretched your arm, “The Colonel is right through there.” You pointed, seeing your father bench pressing in the makeshift workout room the soldiers created. Although its black, metal bars made it feel more like a prison.

Jake thanked you, and you nodded, putting a fist out, which he proudly bumped.

“Hey Jake,” You began, and he looked over his shoulder, waiting for what you had to say.

The seriousness in your voice was stark as you gave him a curt expression, “I meant what I said earlier about a pointless war. Whatever my dad offers you, he’ll mean it. My dad takes care of his own. Just don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

He squinted at you inquisitively, “Wasn’t planning to.”

You turned your heel, looking over your shoulder before leaving, “See you around, old man, unless you want to go back to your retirement home on earth.”

“Go crawl back to your crib, won’t you?” He yelled after you, and with your back turned, you flipped him off, his chuckle becoming fainter and fainter as you walked away.

You stopped by Trudy and she stopped what she was doing, getting up from her crouched position, “Hey, hey what’s wrong? You’ve got that look in your eye.”

Looking back, you watched as Jake talked to your father, “I don’t know. I just have a bad feeling, Trudy.”

Trudy put a comforting hand on your back, “Why don’t we go to the caf and raid the dessert pantry? That always makes you feel better.”

“Can’t hurt.” You replied, the two of you hastily walking to the cafeteria.

You felt slightly better because of Trudy’s efforts, but that bad feeling still plagued you. When night fell, you walked to the soldiers’ quarters, making your way to the far end of it to find your father in his room.

“What did Sully say, sir?” Keeping your nonchalance, you showed no heightened emotions, standing perfectly as your father turned his attention to you.

He had a smirk on his face, which gave away his answer, “We’ll have these savages by the balls in no time.”

“What exactly are you having him do?” You pushed on, maintaining your stoic expression.

Quaritch walked over to you, “I thought about sending you instead. Don’t think it didn’t cross my mind seeing as that Augustine bitch is trying to brainwash you into believe her tree-hugging bullshit.”

Still, you gave him an unreadable expression, waiting for him to continue what he was saying.

“But, you don’t have an avatar. Sully can gather intel that we need from the inside. Understand?”

“Yes, sir. I understand.” You stood with perfect posture as silence enveloped you.

He smiled at you, putting a hand on your cheek, “Now, go on to bed baby girl. We got a long day ahead of us.”

Could you blame Jake for taking the deal? He didn’t know that he was really making a deal with the devil.

Jake was like you at first. Ignorant. He didn’t fully grasp the world he was entering into, clinging onto the comfort of what he had always known. He was a Marine who figured it was just another hellhole, another tour that would add to his long list of sins.

He would get a reversal, his old life before a big hole was blown right through the middle of it. Reporting intel was a cakewalk to Jake, and if that meant the promise of his legs back, then there was nothing to lose.

Three months. That was how long Jake had to negotiate the Na’vi’s relocation.

It didn’t take long for Grace to find out that Jake was talking to the Colonel, Max rushing in to deliver the news to you all, his mannerisms frantic as he threw his hands up. Grace had her usual cigarette in her mouth, and in her burning rage, she almost bit down on it, her teeth barely sinking in as she grit her teeth.

Taking it out of her mouth, she let a puff of smoke escape and you all felt her rage as her smoke cloud engulfed you all, “Those idiots have no business sticking their noses in my department.”

The rest of you were silent, listening as she continued her rant. Jake was untouchable, strangely chosen by the Omaticaya, and unfortunately, her only way back in with the clan. You could see her thinking as her eyes went to the ceiling, her forehead furrowing as she considered what her next move was. Seemingly, she had found the answer after her mental contemplation, immediately ordering everyone to gather everything up.

Quickly, she walked over to her station, her eyes scanning the contents of the table.

You followed after her, “What are you doing to do?”

She handed you her cigarette, her hands at work as she began to organize what was in front of her, “We’re getting out of Dodge. I’m not about to let your brainless father and that ass-hat Selfridge micro-manage this thing.”

She had handed you the cigarette so haphazardly that you almost grabbed the part that had been lit, cinging it on your belt once she gave it to you, “So, where are we going?”

She stopped, facing you with a warning look, “We? You really think daddy dearest is gonna let you out of his sight? He already gets that ugly vein in his forehead every time you do anything that involves me.”

“Let him have his ugly vein because I’m not staying here if you’re not.” You protested, searching her eyes for approval, but she only looked at you with a pessimistic expression.

She put a hand on your cheek, her steely tone betrayed by the concern in her eyes, “Don’t push it. “

You placed a hand over hers, “You can’t change my mind. So, just tell me. Where are you thinking of moving everything?”

Grace groaned at your stubbornness, letting go of her hold on your face as she pulled her tablet out to show you, “Site 26, up in the Hallelujah Mountains.”

Your eyes lit up as an idea sprang into your mind, “I have to go.” You said abruptly making your way back to the hangar, your eyes avidly searching for your father.

When you caught sight of him, he was about to get into an AMP suit, but the sound you calling him made him jump back down, his head turned in your direction.

He immediately gave you a toothy grin, pleased to see you as he put an affectionate hand on your back, “Is my little girl keepin’ everyone in line?”

“I’m practically walking intimidation to these people, sir.” You joked, but he took you seriously, looking at you with such pride.

“Nothing wrong with being feared. That’s how we Quaritchs get it done.”

“Speaking of getting things done,” He leaned in closer, attentive as he waited for you to continue, “The scientists are about to have a change in scenery. I know you got Jake in there, but let me fly with Trudy. With me around too, you’ve practically got your dream team.”

Facing you, he put his hands on your shoulders, his smile even wider than before as the corners of his eyes crinkled in pure regard for you, “Taking initiative. I wish I had ten more like you.”

You smiled back, “So, I have your approval?”

“You’ve got my approval,” His tone changing ominously as he stared down at you, “But don’t let these limp-dick science majors fool you. There ain’t nothing worth saving here. You know the mission, y/n.”

Hugging him, you let the smile on your face fall, the graveness in his tone sending a whirring ache in your stomach. “You know me better than that, dad. I’m your daughter.” You reassured him, your voice so convincing that even you had almost believed the lie you were feeding him.

He leaned back, looking at you with a pleased grin, “Damn right you are.”

“After all this time, we finally get to fly together. Ain’t that a bitch.” Trudy said, handing you bags as you set them into the back of her flyer.

“Better late than never.” You hummed, overjoyed to finally be away from the base.

After everything was secured, everyone’s avatars were loaded on, their impossibly large stature so lifeless that they almost seemed like statues. Flying through the mountains, you all looked around in awe, Trudy laughing at you all as your mouths gaped open, too consumed in absolute wonderment to even process her laugh. This wasn’t the first time you had seen the mountains, but that didn’t make them any less remarkable. Landing, you all wasted no time making yourselves comfortable, picking out your bunks, setting your stuff down, and inspecting the entire place.

Over the next few weeks, Jake stayed true to what he was ordered to do, diligent and detailed with every report after his excursions using his avatar. Sometimes, he would do them alone, always making sure that no one was watching, but other times you were right beside him, cringing as he attempted to make sense of the Omaticaya.

After the first month, you could sense Jake’s weariness as he closed his video log, his finger nervously hovering over the button to send it in.

Walking over, you placed a hand on the table, “Yeah, I’d be hesitating to send that in too. You look like crap, old man.” You snickered, hoping to subside his worries with your joke.

He met your eyes, annoyed, “Whatever, baby face. Don’t you have a kids meal to eat or something?.”

“I had to check on my favorite old guy. You know, make sure you didn’t keel over or anything.” You pouted, earning a scowl from him.

Taking a seat on top of the table, you tilted your head at him, What’s with the hesitation? You usually just send things in and walk away.” You prodded.

He pressed the button, not wanting to explain himself, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Lowering your eyes at him, you scoffed, “It’s not a crime to like it here. Should I remind you how earth is practically just a ticking time bomb? The core is caving in on itself as we speak.”

“I want my legs back.” He replied, but even he wasn’t convinced by his tone.

Getting up, you let your arms fall to your sides, “You have legs.”

“Not always.” Jake snapped back.

“You know Jake, like it or not, blue’s always been your color.” You hinted, leaving him to contemplate your words as you went back to your bunk.

He was fighting hard denial, falling in love with the forest little by little, and everything it was giving him. Jake didn’t realize how much he missed running, hell even walking was a blessing. Things were hard at first, but with Neytiri pushing his limits, he couldn’t even complain, too grateful that he was even able to get back up from falling.

And suddenly, Jake finally had something to lose.

You watched as everything was backwards for Jake, the world he had thrust himself into for a simple mission becoming the reality, while his waking life had become the dream. Pandora was changing him, just like it changed you.

Learning the ways of the Omaticaya was the catalyst, but then there was also Grace, and Norm, and of course, you. While he had found unlikely friendships with Norm and Grace, you had become close friends since the day you first met.

In truth, you reminded him of his brother, Tommy, the science guy, the smarter one. But Tommy didn’t have that callous edge that Jake’s military background imprinted on him. It was the one thing about Jake that Tommy could never relate to.

You could though, and you did.

Every time.

You were practically cut from the same tree, and despite your usual dizzying scientific discussions, Na’vi lingo and occasional latin-rooted vernacular, you actually understood him without really trying.

You were younger than him, younger than everyone, a constant cause for concern because aside from all your one-liners and jokes, Jake felt responsible for you. You were better than him in so many ways, and he respected you, cared about you, more than he cared about himself.

And the longer you were around Jake, the more you got to know him, and the easier it became to see his internal struggle. He didn’t know who he was anymore, his concept of loyalty faltering as the burden of what Quaritch had asked him had finally laid stones in his heart.

Jake’s three months had gone by in a blink. To the disappointment of your father, his last report was more than three weeks from that deadline. Your father had called him back to base, Jake’s lag stirring his intolerance for deviancy, but you intercepted it, offering to talk to him yourself.

You waited for Jake by his pod, looking out at the Pandora forest through the window and taking in the tranquility of the scene before you. Beyond the clearing were the endless flora and fauna and amidst the air and soft dirt, were speckles of life in the form of the local insects and animals. You peered outside in awe, wondering what it would feel like to explore the forest without the confines of your feeble humanity.

Behind you, you could hear the pod open, stirring you away from your thoughts. You turned around, Jake’s expression completely contemplative as he noticed you.

You gave him an equally reflective expression, your mind carrying an unwieldy weight as you dreaded the conversation that daunted the both of you.

He pulled himself out of the pod, but you remained where you were. “My dad is starting to question your resolve. Will Neytiri and her people move from HomeTree?”

You knew the answer already, and Jake buried his face in his hands, “They don’t want anything. There’s nothing to trade, but what could they possibly want from us? Lite beer and blue jeans? They’re never gonna leave, and I don’t blame them.”

You hung your head low, “It’s not wrong for you to like it here, Jake. You didn’t do anything wrong. My father roped you into this mess.”

He lifted his head up from his hands, his expression so burdened and beaten down, “I can barely remember my old life y/n. I don’t even know who I am anymore.”

You leaned forward, putting comforting hands on his shoulders, “You know who you are Jake.”

He looked up, his eyes begging you to tell him who that was. “You’re one of The People now, and this forest is your home. You can protect it still.”

Jake never cried, but he almost did as he avoided your eyes, “You once told me not to make a promise I can’t keep.”he let out a defeated sigh, “Should have taken you seriously back then.”

“What matters is what you do now. Saving them, that’s all that matters. I’ll tell my dad what he wants to hear, but you know what you have to do, and you’re the only one who can do it.” You kept a meek smile, patting his shoulders.

He was silent for a moment, nodding as he took in your words, “Whatever happens, I’m not bringing you down with me. Who knows what your dad will do when he finds out you’ve gone rogue.” His face was etched in concern, his worry for you embedded in the lines of his forehead.

You shrugged, your expression grave as you frowned, “A father protects. It’s what gives him meaning.”

You paused, looking down at your clasped hands as you reminisced about the life you had back on earth, “I owe Quaritch my life, you know. My real parents didn’t want me and no one else did either. For a long time, he was all I had, and I thought that everything he did was to protect me.”

You met Jake’s eyes again, your expression fierce with determination, “But, kids grow up and they realize who their parents are and they either accept that or fight it with all they got. I choose to fight.”

Jake’s expression softened as you continued on, your emotion suddenly overwhelming as you felt your voice almost break, “You, Grace, Trudy, Norm, you guys are my family. I got your back Jake. No matter what.”

He put a hand on your head, a genuine smile on his lips, “Don’t worry about me. You’re the baby. It’s my job to protect you.”

You shook your head, “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“What can I say?” He sighed, shrugging, “I’m a stubborn old man.”

The next day, the bulldozers came and not long after that came the destruction of HomeTree. There was nothing you all could do except sit and watch as Quaritch ordered the columns to be brought down, the Na’vi scattering in waves of blue as they witnessed their home engulf in flames, the cataclysmic reds and oranges muting the once green landscape and settling into the soulless smoke cloud that rose above them all, its presence like a deadly omen.

Grace, Norm, and Jake were detained immediately, and just like Jake had said, he protected you, pretending you had no involvement in anything that happened. You, Trudy, and Max did you all you could to help them escape when you got the chance, and as you approached her flyer, Jake stopped, urging you to leave so you wouldn’t get caught.

You refused, insisting to come with them, but Grace had already made the decision for you, pulling you into a hug, she caressed your hair, “You need to stay here, baby girl.”

You could feel tears fall down your face as you wrapped your arms around her, savoring her embrace before letting go, unwillingly giving in to the urgency of the situation.

As they entered into the hangar, you ran back to the heart of the base, hiding while soldiers charged toward them, your father taking the lead. Later that night, you found out Grace was dying and you cried alone. You were beyond consolation, your grief consuming your heart, the ache tormenting you as you sat in the base, unable to do anything for her. You had seen death. Countless times. But not being with her for hers felt like you were the one you had been killed.

It was hard to feign your innocence after you found out that it was your father who shot her, and it became damn near impossible when Jake told you she had finally passed. Still, you were strong, playing the perfect soldier until the final battle came.

Fleets of ships entered into enemy territory, rows and rows of them creating an ugly, gray hoard amidst Pandora’s natural beauty. When you had entered, warriors on their ikrans swarmed, shooting left and right and bringing down the smaller flyers one by one.

You were with your father when he gave you the order to shoot Trudy down, her flyer adorned with war paint as she targeted your father’s ship, guns blazing.

“I won’t do it.” You refused outright.

In all your life, you had never been defiant, stunning him only for a second before he rose his voice at you, “Shoot her down, y/n!”

You got up, gritting your teeth as you spoke, your contempt silvery in your tongue, “I won’t kill my friend.”

Seething, he turned away from you, “If you won’t, I will.”

Before you could stop him he armed all pods, sending endless shots toward Trudy. You were frozen, unable to peel your eyes away as you watched her rotor explode, her flyer plummeting further and further down to the ground until she was engulfed in a deadly explosion. Still, you were agonized from the pain of losing Grace, but your loss became insurmountable watching your father murder your best friend.

He paid no mind to that pain as he continued his plight, too focused to care about what he had done to you. All felt hopeless suddenly, your heart breaking as you watched more destruction unfold before you. Ikran and Na’vi were being shot in the air and below you men and women were being shot down, the fits of fleeting light coming from the gunfire of the AMP suits still visible from so high up.

Then, as if a prayer had been answered, ikran were flying in swarms from all directions, their masses attacking ships and taking down sentries. On the other side of you, you saw Jake, landing on top of one of the ships, unleashing grenades and jumping off to land on the biggest ikran you had ever seen, Toruk.

You watched as Toruk maneuvered through the arching rock columns that surrounded the Tree of Souls and descended quickly to your father’s ship. With a loud thud, Jake was above you, unleashing grenades. Seeing him, your father steered the ship right, rupturing his balance as he fell backward. The grenade exploded, triggering the oxygen breach alarm. You grabbed an exo pack as you ran to the ship’s hatch, your father yanking you to the ground, his gun already in his hand as he stationed himself in the opening. Rushing, you took hold of the ladder, pushing past your father toward Jake, who was barely holding onto the ship, a missile already in his hand.

Jake threw the missile into the rotor as Quaritch fired a shot, the bullet meant for Jake hitting you as you blocked its path, the blood pooling in your chest instantly. In that moment, Quaritch dropped his gun, running toward you with his arms outstretched, his attempt at catching you futile as you already fell backwards.

A father protects. It’s what gives him meaning.

What Quaritch had failed to be, Jake fulfilled, scooping you into his arms as you both tumbled downward, tightly wrapping himself around your dying body to brace you from the impact. When you had finally fallen to the forest floor, you were heaving, your vision fading as he towered over you.

He was holding onto your limp body, tears streaming down his face. “No, no. You’re gonna be fine, y/n.”

You had never seen him cry before, and that made everything feel all the more heart-wrenching. There was no hope to save you.

You smiled at him like nothing was wrong, “You know me better than that Jake. I’m a scientist. I don’t believe in fairy tales.”

He let out a weak chuckle. It was the same thing that Grace had said to him when she lay dying, making his heart twist even more. He was in utter shock, his eyes suddenly drowned with tears while hugging you, as if doing so would bring back the warmth that was slowly leaving your body.

You stared at him, piecing your final words together as you could feel the creeping darkness approach. Putting a hand on his cheek, you finally knew what you wanted to say. “You’re a good man Jake. Thanks for being my family.”

“Y/n, you’re gonna be alright.” He cooed, his heart breaking as your face paled and paled.

Taking one final breath, you smiled, “You’ll make a great dad someday.”

“Y/n.” Jake’s voice quietly inaudible, but your eyes went blank and your hand dropped from his cheek.

Your body was cold and bloody as he held onto you, and as he tried so desperately to search for a remaining light in your eyes, he was only filled with more pain, an irrevocable pain welling inside of him, his heart blocking his mind from making sense of the fact that you were really dead.

You reminded Jake of his brother Tommy, and just like him, you were dead too. He felt like he had failed you, the pain and rage stirring inside of him becoming a strength as he went up against your father.

“Give it up, Quaritch. It’s all over.” Jake yelled out, his call becoming a perfectly timed distraction as Neytiri tried to free herself from the weight of a dead thanator.

“Nothing’s over while I’m breathing.” the Colonel spat, his words imbued with his pure hatred and scorn, “You killed my little girl, Sully. And for that, death is too good for you. I want to see you suffer.”

“It’s your fault she’s gone!” Jake hissed.

“She was my daughter, and I should have never trusted her with you. You think you’re one of them?” So blinded by his own rage, the Colonel blamed Jake for your death, the fuel of his grief giving him an unholy boost in his fighting spirit.

“Time to wake up.” Walking to the pod, he broke the window, filling the oxygen isolated space with Pandora’s air. Panting, Jake could feel his link go in and out, his body convulsing in response to the breach.

When Quaritch had turned back to Jake, he laughed maniacally, enjoying as he watched Jake struggle. Grabbing him by the hair, he pulled Jake’s knife out, “I’m gonna love cutting you up with your own knife.”

Jake even in his lightheaded state, managed to keep his resolve. Hissing aggressively as Quaritch inched and inched toward his neck, Jake could feel the imminence of blood being drawn until he stopped, Quaritch’s hands going limp, dropping Jake and the knife. As fast as the first came, so did a second, dealing the final blow. Neytiri watched as Quaritch died, satisfied as he became void of life, the misguided glory he was chasing dying with him.

Those who weren’t loyal to the Na’vi were sent back to earth, and in his last ditch attempt to save you, Jake had taken you before Mo’at, hoping that Great Mother still held your life in her intricate balance.

Mo’at pleaded for you underneath the Tree of Souls, the Great Mother’s roots glowing around your lifeless body, but dimming quickly.

Lifting her head up, Mo’at looked at Jake, choosing her words very carefully, “In this time of great sorrow, she cannot be saved Jake Sully, but the Great Mother still holds her in her heart. She is not gone from us forever.”

Neytiri held him as he stared ahead blankly, so struck by his grief that he hadn’t truly grasped what Mo’at was saying. When he had shaken himself out of his state, he picked your body up, burying you where they had buried Grace’s human body, the Omaticaya chanting to Eywa as Jake, Norm, and all the other scientists gathered to say their final goodbye.

And in that final goodbye, you too had become a relic of the past, but your memory lived on as Jake continued his life, your death a painful reminder that he must always protect his family.

You had told him something long ago, something he would never forget.

A father protects. It’s what gives him meaning.

Author’s Note:

My lovers,

how did you all like that prologue? please let me know in the comments!! i’d love to know what you think :) writing grace and trudy’s death hurt me in my soUL, ITS NOT THIS ANGSTY FOR THE LATER PARTS I SWEAR

again, i wanna thank you all for waiting so patiently for this series!!

part 1 is almost done as well and im beyond excited for you guys to see reader and jake reunite :) AND OFCCC READER AND LO’AK MEETING OMGGGGGG

for all those who wanted to be part of the taglist, you’re listed below

if you want to be tagged in the next parts, please comment on this post or send me a dm or an ask with your blog name!

Love,

Nana <3

taglist: [some of the blogs didn’t allow me to tag some blogs, but i wanted to include them anyways!] @fifty-shades-of-mischeif @pretty-npeach @tonni30 @kirikuki @itsemy01 @persondoingstuff @23victoria @soobinsrose @starjane312 @valentineoxox@imthefunniestpersonalive @justlillythinking @mae-is-crazy @scarletrosesposts @paniniii @bloodyziggy @mister-police @mrs-sullys-blog @niiight-dreamerrrr @promiseofeywa @wilmalovegood @sssspencerrr @mochi-yu @d4rno @lovekeeho @dreama-little-dreamof-me @bammtoli @strawberryclouds22 @neteyamoa @devil-on-acid @a-queen-blr @my-name-duh @mayabritjohn @annoyingstrawberryballoon @0-0h0-0 @glitter-in-my-heroin @katkat1918

#avatar loak #avatar #avatar x reader #avatar way of water #avatar fanfiction #loak sully #loak imagine #Jake Sully #jake sully x reader #loak #nanasavatarfics #nanasloversclan #nanasilwefic!

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