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rollinouttahere-writes · 5 months

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It took the better part of a year, but I've finally figured out where to go with Joyride. A lot of people have been asking for this, so I hope it lives up to your expectations.

Joyride (Part 2)

Part 1

Yandere Ace x GN Isekai Reader

4.8k words

Warning! This contains pretty much every Ace related spoiler btw!

When going into a world you already know everything about, you don’t exactly expect to be surprised by anything. Sure, there will be slight changes and alternate interactions now that you’ve been unceremoniously dropped in, but you had been anticipating for the story to follow all the same beats.

Which is why you were really thrown off when Ace didn’t go his separate way when he was supposed to.

Luffy had succeeded in defeating Crocodile and stopping his plan for dictatorship of Alabasta, but Ace was still here. Granted, having Ace around was hardly the worst thing that could happen, but you didn’t understand what was going on with him.

After your downright bizarre interaction during the little joyride he took you on, you’d honestly had every intention of avoiding him going forward. Then he threw a curveball at you by sincerely apologizing later that night. With everything going on right now he just got a little carried away, that’s all, he won’t harass you about it again. Or so he claimed.

You were skeptical initially, but true to his word, he hasn’t brought up you joining the Whitebeard Pirates since. Between that, and him having an unknown advantage over you by being a favorite character of yours, it was easy to find it within yourself to forgive him. You two have been borderline inseparable since, much to the chagrin of your crewmates.

While Ace hadn’t openly made further attempts to convince you to join his pops’ crew, he’d found a thinly veiled loophole in the form of telling you all kinds of stories about them. You knew this was in and of itself, a method to win you over, but deemed it not worth calling out. Besides, who were you to refuse the opportunity to get some Whitebeard Pirates lore?

There were many late nights filled with quiet conversations about various shenanigans the crew got up to in their free time, of which there were many. An unsurprising fact because of course having that many sibling jam packed onto a ship would turn it into a vessel of chaos.

If you had a weaker resolve, these stories might have won you over. But no, you need to go home.

Even though you weren’t convinced on switching crews, or even just staying here, there was a different problem arising from all your quality time together.

The longer you spoke and goofed around with him, the deeper and more intricate the conversations became, the more human he became to you. Or course, he’d technically always been a human being, but your mind had always registered him (as well as everyone else here) as a “character” first and foremost. A figure in a fictional story which you just so happened to be in temporarily.

Now? After spending so much time with him, aftering seeing him make decisions based off his own experiences and preferences rather than being dictated by some omnipotent author, things have changed. He wasn’t Portgas D. Ace, the fan favorite character from One Piece. He was just Ace, your friend.

With this came something you never saw coming. Guilt. An all consuming, agonizing guilt that picked away at you every single second of the day.

You knew what was to come. You knew what was going to happen to him. What were you doing about it? Absolutely nothing. And for what? For the sake of preserving a story that’s already been altered from your mere presence?

What a disgusting excuse of a friend you were.

The internal conflict you were going through hadn’t gone unnoticed, not when it was taking such a high toll on you. Nami was the first to start grilling you on it. Naturally, she immediately started pointing fingers at Ace as being the cause, which while not wrong, she wasn’t correct in the way she believed herself to be either. It was hardly his fault that you had a heavy conscience.

Sanji had also picked up on your struggles and was very concerned about the bags under your eyes, even offering to make some tea to assist with sleeping. An offer you turned down perhaps more harshly than truly necessary, but being trapped in a deeper sleep sounded awful with the nightmares you’ve been having.

It had been upsetting enough to watch Ace die through a screen, but in your dreams you were right there. It felt so real.

A suffocating heat burned at your skin and seared your lungs with every panicked breath, which only became more frantic as hot blood splattered over your face. Life was rapidly draining from Ace’s eyes as he collapsed into the waiting arms of his now deeply traumatized brother.

Your feet were rooted to the ground, all you could do was stare in horror as he looked up at you with tearful, pleading eyes. “Why?” The word was more so coughed out than spoken, spraying out more blood that he couldn’t afford to lose. An arm extended towards you, the hand locking onto your own. His nails dug into your skin, drawing out blood of your own to mix with his into a revolting cocktail. “You could have stopped this. How could you do this to me?”

The last word was wheezed out and his body went limp as his dead, lifeless eyes stared through you. A soul wrenching scream tore its way out of Luffy’s throat, only to morph into your own as you were mercifully ripped from your slumber.

The screaming damn near gave Ace a heart attack, you’re sure of it. This nightmare had occurred after you and him had become separated from the rest of the group while traversing the desert, and you had found a compact cave for the two of you to pass the night in.

What made it worse was how he reacted. He was so concerned, even fretting over you as you desperately tried to get your breathing under control. The compassion in his eyes had done nothing to comfort you, it only served to further sicken you. Here he was wanting to save you from something as trivial as a nightmare, yet you couldn’t be bothered to speak up on and prevent his upcoming demise.

The guilt was killing you, and the solution was not only clear, but easy. So why couldn’t you bring yourself to just tell him? To plead and beg for him to give up the chase and not throw his life away. Yet your lips remained sealed.

All of these elements came to a boil and demanded your attention, so you did what seemed to be the easiest thing to do in your situation. Drink it away.

Now that Luffy had awoken from his brief coma after fighting Crocodile, Alubarna Palace was hosting a lavish party in celebration and thanks for what everyone had done. And what high end party would be complete without absurd amounts of alcohol?

It started with one, purely to help ease your nerves. However, when it didn’t, you poured yourself another. And then a few more. Zoro had initially been thrilled to have you as a drinking buddy, but apparently even he had his limits and had cut you off.

“The hell’s gotten into you? You’re drinking like you’re trying to run from demons,” the bottle of expensive liquor had been moved out of reach when you tried to go for it again.

“You have no idea,” you slurred out, head spinning from your evening of poor decision making.

Zoro shot you a questioning look, but didn’t press it, likely knowing full well that getting a coherent conversation out of you right now would be impossible. He heaved out a sigh and stood up, “I’m going to get you some water, stay right there.”

Thoroughly defeated, you slumped back into your chair. After all that, you still couldn’t get your dilemma out of your head. Your “demons” continued gnawing at your soul, and all that your drinking had done about it was ensure that you would have a miserable hangover in the morning.

Your head lulled to the side, and you caught sight of a familiar orange hat. Speak of the devil. While you were in the throws of self inflicted misery, Ace was happily taking advantage of all the food being offered. Good for him. He deserved a nice night.

As if acting on its own, your body managed to get up onto its feet. You shambled towards him, doing your best not to fall flat on your face with each uncoordinated step. Whatever invisible force that had been helping you to make the walk to Ace failed you at the last second, and you crashed into him from behind.

“Shit! Wha- Oh, it’s just you,” Ace whirled around, visibly agitated, but his features relaxed when he realized who it was. He appeared to be ready to say more but you cut him off.

“I need to talk to you.”

Ace quirked a brow, “Yeah? What’s up?”

From the expectant look he was giving you, it’s clear that he’s waiting for you to spill your guts here and now. You shook your head, “No, it’s… It’s a secret. We have to go somewhere else.” Realization flashed across his face and he nodded. Fortunately for you, he led the way. You honestly did not think you’d be able to scout out a place for this discussion. You were finally going to come clean and tell him everything before you could sober up and come to your senses.

It was going well. At least it was, until he passed out and took you down with him. You both collided onto the floor with a resounding thud, him on top of you. The hall you’d slipped into was empty, meaning there was no one here to help you.

You groaned as you attempted to move, the fall had hit you harder than it should have thanks to the copious amounts of alcohol in your system. You were also mentally kicking yourself for not seeing this coming. He was eating when you stumbled into him, of course it was only a matter of time before this happened.

Whatever, there isn’t time to be bemoaning a minor inconvenience. You manage to shimmy out from under him and use the wall to get to your feet. Ace is snoring on the floor, not a care in the world. Hopefully he’ll wake up soon.

Taking a look around, you see a door just a couple steps away. You inch your way over to it and try the knob. It clicks open, and you peer in. Looks like some sort of guest room, and it’s empty. Perfect.

Pushing the door open fully, you turn back to Ace. He’s still asleep, but you don’t want to wait around for him to wake up on his own and run the risk of being seen. You lean down to grab the closest part of him, his right foot, and pull. You’re not sure if he’s actually heavy, or if you’re just too drunk for this, but you tip over while trying to do this and fall flat on your ass.

“Huh?” Ace’s head snapped up and he looked around owlishly. The second his eyes connected with yours, he remembered what he was doing before his narcoleptic tendencies took the wheel. He laughed, a light blush on his face, as he got to his feet, “Sorry about that, you alright?”

“I’m fine, get in here,” you urged him to hurry, which he did. In the time it took you to stand again, Ace had already slipped into the room, closed the door, and flicked on a lamp so you two wouldn’t be talking in complete darkness. You eye the door for a moment, then grab a chair and drag it over to wedge it under the doorknob. Someone walking in on the conversation you were about to have would be something of a worst case scenario.

Ace watched this curiously, “Is everything okay?”

This probably looked weird, but oh well, it’s about to get a lot weirder. You decide to sit on the bed and motion for Ace to join you, which he does. You take one of his hands in both of yours and stare at him intensely, “I need to tell you something. It’s going to sound insane, but you need to promise me you won’t tell anyone about this.”

He repeated his previous question, asking again if everything was okay, but you cut him off, “Promise me, please!”

Your desperation got through to him, “Okay, I promise! What’s going on?”

Here goes nothing. You take a deep breath and take the leap, “You need to stop going after Blackbeard.”

Ace recoiled immediately, and if you hadn’t been holding onto his hand for dear life, he probably would have backed away from you. “What? I can’t do that, why would y-”

“Let me finish!” You snapped at him, only to immediately regret it. You sighed, “Please. There’s more, please let me finish talking first, and then you can talk.”

While he did not look happy about it, he did relax his shoulders and settled back into the bed. You took this as your cue to continue, “You need to stop going after Blackbeard because you will die if you do.” Ace exhaled sharply and rolled his eyes at this, assuming that this was coming from a place of fear and doubt.

“I know this because,” you took in a shuddering breath, steeling yourself for what was to come. “I know this because in the world that I came from… This world is a story.”

Ace stares at you wide eyed and slack jawed. He laughed, but was very clearly uncomfortable, “I, uh, I think you’ve had a little too much to drink tonight. How about I take you back to your room to sleep it off, okay?”

He tried to stand, but you yanked him back down, “No! I’m not drunk! Well, I mean, I am, but I know what I’m talking about! I can prove it.”

His expression was nothing short of incredulous, but he indulged you, “Yeah, okay, sure. Go ahead, prove it.”

“You’re hunting down Blackbeard because he murdered Thatch so he could steal his devil fruit,” you started light. Ace had told you about Thatch being the one he was avenging, but he’d never mentioned the devil fruit before, likely not deeming it an important enough detail. His brows knit together and his eyes drifted upwards as he racked his brain to remember if maybe he actually had said something about it.

“Before you were with Whitebeard, you were captain of the Spade Pirates. Your first member was Masked Deuce, who you met while being stranded on an island together. It’s where you found your devil fruit and built Striker,” he hadn’t told you anything in regards to his old crew, and his face reflected that. You definitely had his attention now.

“You and Luffy were raised by mountain bandits because Garp couldn’t raise you two himself. It wasn’t just you guys, though, you had another brother named Sabo, but he was killed when he tried to set sail and got shot down,” at this point, you were saying whatever came to mind with no regard to whether or not it was a good idea to say this right now. You couldn’t bring yourself to keep looking him in the eye, so you settled for staring at his hand in yours. It was completely slack.

“Your parents are Portgas D. Rouge and Gol D. R-”

Before you could finish the sentence, Ace’s free hand clamped over your mouth with such ferocity that you almost fell off the bed. Forcing yourself to make eye contact again, you see that his are blown wide and wild. The color has been drained from his face and he looked physically ill from hearing everything you just threw at him.

An extremely tense moment passed with nothing to be heard beyond his labored breathing. Then, he hesitantly let go of your face and with a shaky voice said, “Okay. I’m sorry. I believe you. What… What’s going to happen if I keep pursuing Blackbeard?”

You attempted to swallow the lump in your throat, but it refused to go away, “When you catch up with him, you’ll fight, but lose. Your powers are no match for his, you don’t stand a chance against him. After your loss, he turns you in to the marines.

“Because of who your father is, they decide to make an example out of you and sentence you to death.”

“That bastard turns me in and I get executed?” He sounds like the wind has just been knocked out of him. Disbelief and bitterness are the two most prevalent emotions in his tone, but many others brew beneath the surface.

“Not exactly,” it’s true that he gets turned in and killed, but it’s nowhere near that simple and straightforward. “Luffy comes to your rescue at Marineford, and so does Whitebeard and a lot of his crew.”

Before you could go more into detail, Ace speaks up, “They… W-Why would they do that?”

“Why would they- You have to ask?!” Your voice raises and you have to remind yourself of just how much character development he has to go through in that arc to finally realize and accept the fact that he’s genuinely loved. “Because you’re family, their family! They care about you and don’t want to see you die!”

Your outburst shocked him, but not as much as seeing you start to cry did. His hand is abandoned and you lurch forward to bring him into a suffocatingly tight hug, “Y-You are so loved, you know that? They l-love you so much! A lot of people do! I do! We all want to see you live and be happy!” You limply hang off of him as more tears bubble to the surface, greedily taking the chance to escape with every sob as you finally let out everything you’ve been keeping in. Ace makes no move to return your embrace, he just sits there stiff as a board.

“A-And, at that battle, you’re killed by Admiral Akainu while protecting Luffy. He’s devastated by it, being forced to watch you die hurts him so bad,” you cling onto him tighter upon feeling him flinch from your words. “Whitebeard dies there too.”

“What?! How could anyone kill him? That can’t be right!” You’re wrenched off Ace violently and his stare is almost as unhinged as it was when you said his parents’ names.

“Blackbeard does it,” Ace freezes at this. “That should give you an idea of how strong he is. If he can kill Whitebeard, fighting you is nothing to him. Besides, you of all people would know how hard it is to kill him,” you chuckle but it’s humorless, empty even.

A heavy stretch of silence follows after that. Ace’s eyes don’t leave your face for even a second, desperately searching for anything that would tell him that this is all one big, sick joke. But there’s nothing of the sort.

Slowly, he releases your shoulders and he shifts away from you to rest his head in his hands. Without his support, you allow yourself to fall back onto the bed. Between all the alcohol and your emotional outburst, you’re exhausted and want nothing more than to sleep. You try to force yourself to stay awake, but it feels like an insurmountable task.

“Hey, Ace?” There’s no answer, but you continue anyway, “I’m sorry. I know that was a lot. If, um… If you don’t believe me about knowing what’s going to happen, stick around until after we set sail again. Bon Clay- Mr. 2- is going to bring the Going Merry over here so that we don’t have to backtrack. Marines will be all over the place, but he sacrifices himself so that Luffy and his crew can get away. Once they’ve lost the marines, Nico Robin will reveal herself to have been hiding on the ship and joins the crew.”

Ace continues to not react to what’s being said, you’re not even sure he’s listening to you at this point. As much as you want to comfort him, your limbs feel like lead and your head is swimming. The last thing you see is the jolly roger of the Whitebeard’s staring you down as you fade into darkness.

—

Consciousness comes back to you slowly. Painfully so. Before you can even make out your surroundings, you’re assaulted by the worst headache of your life. The stabbing pain behind your eyes is crippling, all you want is to retreat back to the comfort of sleep, but you know that’s not going to happen.

It doesn’t help that your mouth is so dry that you feel like you’re back in the desert. One hand comes up to gingerly massage your eyes. The action brought more discomfort than relief, but it did clear up your sight a little.

As your senses ebb back into you, you hone in on the pressure all over your body. It takes considerable effort, but you manage to lift your head enough to take a look. Your nose is less than an inch from bumping into someone else’s. Chopper’s to be exact. He was curled up into your side and using your chest as a pillow. Looking past him, Luffy was sprawled across your lap, belly up. Both of them were still asleep.

You prop yourself up on one arm. Chopper shifts, but doesn’t wake. Off to your side is a bedside table with a glass of water on it. Oh, thank God. Using the arm you aren’t propped up with, you grab it and bring the cup to your lips. The water is divine, an absolute blessing for your dry throat.

As you enjoy your drink, your eyes glance around to observe the rest of the room. It’s the one you all have been staying in since saving Alabasta. Most of your friends are in their respective beds, except for Chopper and Luffy, obviously. Zoro was also not in his bed, instead being slumped over in a chair next to your own.

Your eyes flicker over to the massive windows of the room, and you spot Ace sitting in the windowsill. From the way he’s positioned, he appears to be awake already. Your gaze narrows as you focus on him. Something tickled at the back of your mind, demanding to be remembered. But what?

“Y-You are so loved, you know that? They l-love you so much! A lot of people do! I do! We all want to see you live and be happy!”

The water going down your throat is suddenly going out of it when you choke. Memories come back and hit you like a train as you realize what exactly it is you did last night.

Naturally, this wakes up Chopper and Luffy, who are both jolted from their once peaceful sleep by you choking on your drink. Chopper immediately starts to panic, “AH! Don’t die, (Y/N)!”

—

It was crucial that you speak to Ace again, but it seemed like the world itself was committed to making sure that didn’t happen. Ace slipped out of the room while everyone was fussing over you, and it honestly felt like he was avoiding you now. Everytime you thought you might be able to catch him alone, either he vanishes, or someone else comes out of nowhere to drag you away.

Today was the day you all set sail from Alabasta, and while that did put you in close proximity with Ace, it also put everyone else within earshot of you two. And considering the delicate nature of what you needed to talk about, that was extremely inconvenient.

The only good thing was that the events following leaving Alabasta played out exactly how they were supposed to. Hopefully that meant that Ace would believe you and give up hunting down Blackbeard, but you won’t be able to confirm that unless you speak with him.

You were so stressed that you’d barely been able to focus on Robin being here. She “introduced” herself to you as if she hadn’t had an extremely uncomfortable run in with you in an alleyway back in Rainbase, but all you could manage was a half-assed handshake before excusing yourself.

For probably the fifteenth time today, you checked to make sure that Striker was still tied to the Merry. It was, much to your relief. But where was Ace hiding? You haven’t seen him since Robin showed herself.

The stress of trying and failing to corner him was doing nothing to help with your hangover, your head felt like it was about to explode. Did you still have Advil in the bag you got isekai’d here with? Maybe. Pushing off the railing, you march to where your room is while praying that you’re right about the painkillers.

You open the door without much thought, only to stop dead in your tracks when you catch sight of Ace rummaging through your belongings and stuffing them into his backpack. The door opening did briefly make him stop and peer over his shoulder to see who it was, but the second he saw it was you, he went right back to pillaging.

“Can I help you? Why are you robbing me?” You stomp over to where he’s crouched down and shove his shoulder.

“I’m not robbing you, I’m packing for you,” Ace mumbled, sounding lost in thought.

“Why would you be packing for me? Actually, you know what? That’s the least of my concerns right now, we need to talk about last night.”

“We’ll talk about it later, not here.” He still hasn’t properly faced you, and you were getting sick of only making eye contact with his tattoo and not him.

“Where else would we talk about it?!” You hissed.

Seeming content with his work, he stood up and kicked the dresser drawer shut, “On the Striker. Or maybe the Moby Dick, I guess. I’m going back and you’re coming with me.”

You can’t believe what you’re hearing, “Excuse me?”

“I’m going back to the Moby Dick, and you’re coming with me.” Ace had finally turned to face you. His eyes were sunken and vaguely bloodshot.

The sight catches you off guard, “Did you sleep at all last night?”

He shook his head, “No, we’re going to have to stop somewhere else to sleep before going the rest of the way back home.”

“Ace, I’m not going with you. Look, I’m happy that you’re calling off your hunt, relieved honestly, but I’m staying here.” You will ideally be figuring out how to go home sometime soon, there’s no sense in hopping around from crew to crew now.

One of his eyes twitched, and he looked exasperated, “You can’t stay here. You aren’t safe here.”

“What are you-”

“Let me finish,” the words were spoken calmly, but very firm. “I don’t think you understand how serious this is. You apparently know everything about this world and what’s going to happen in it, do you have any idea what will happen to you if word gets out about this?”

“You’re the only person I’ve told, so as long as you keep your mouth shut, I’ll be fine.”

“Until you get drunk again and tell someone else, then what?” His words were just as scathing as his gaze.

Your face flushed in shame, “That won’t happen again.”

“You don’t know that!” Ace snapped at you, then sighed and dragged a hand down his face, “This is for your own good. Nothing good will come from anyone else learning about this. If it ever got back to someone like Big Mom, she would send every single one of her children after you so she could have you on her side. And that’s the nicer option. I’m sure the marines would be more than happy to kill you off so that no one else could have you if they can’t.”

Throughout this entire conversation, his face had remained uncomfortably neutral, but now it cracked. Fondness peaked through the exhaustion as his expression softened ever so slightly. He steps forwards and brings you against him in a crushing embrace. His skin is hot to the touch, effectively chasing away any chill that you may have had.

“You said you wanted to see me live, and I want to see you live, too.” The words are hushed, you wouldn’t have been able to hear him if he hadn’t been speaking right next to your ear.

Reluctantly, he pulls himself away. His face is serious again, “We’re leaving tonight, be ready to go.”

“But-”

“If you don’t come willingly, I will make you. The only thing that you resisting will accomplish is making this messier than it needs to be. Even if you don’t like this now, you will thank me for it later.”

Ace spins on his heel and heads for the door. All you can do is stand there gawking at him as he leaves. Just before the door closes behind him, he spares a glance over his shoulder to say, “I’ll see you tonight.”

#one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #yandere one piece #portgas d ace #fire fist ace #monkey d luffy #nami #cat burglar nami #one piece #sanji #black leg sanji #tony tony chopper #nico robin #roronoa zoro #platonic yandere

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thepascalofus · 9 months

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Supply Run - Return (part two)

AO3

PART ONE

Supply Run - Exchange (part three)

Pairing: Mando/Din Djarin x afab!Reader

Word Count: 8.0k

Summary: You’ve been Mando’s crew partner for a year now. Throughout that year Mando has warmed up to you and given you signs that your heart throbbing crush on him is reciprocated. There’s one thing making you hesitate. The condoms he bought on the most recent supply run.

Chapter Summary: While Mando takes a trip to the market and gets what he needs, he ponders your relationship and what it means to him.

Content Warnings: MDNI, 18+ only! Switching POVs, post season 2, the Crest lives, strangers to friends to lovers, mentions of Grogu, soft!Mando, insecure!Mando (a smidge), helmet loopholes, pining, idiots in love, jealous!reader, sad!reader for a little, mentions of sex work (sex work is work!), eventual SMUT (making out, grinding, f!receiving fingering, f!receiving oral sex, p in v, PRAISE kink, dirty talk), FLUFF, cuddling, happy ending guaranteed!

A/N: Thank you all so much for the responses on the first part! This is my first fic that I've ever shared and it makes me so happy that other people enjoy my writing! Enjoy!

Mando handed his scope off to you in the worn down store. Wallpaper peeled from the ancient wooden planks of the walls. Cobwebs littered the untouched areas of the store. The work stations in the back, visible from the pick up counter at the front, were in complete disarray. Several projects started, but not finished. Several projects finished, but not retrieved.

You took the scope in your hand and twisted it in your hands until your gaze landed on the name of the manufacturer and the serial number. Your eyebrows shot up once the brand of the scope was revealed, it twisted in your hands once more. Hands raising the metal tube so it was level with your eyes, you looked into the scope.

“Ah! I know what it is!”

Mando watched in confusion as you ran to a workstation and grabbed a singular tool. How did you know what was wrong so quickly? He sat in the hull of the Crest for hours attempting to fix the scope. The motions of taking the scope apart and putting it back together were etched into his brain from the number of times he did so.

You returned to the front of the store with the tool in hand. “This manufacturer has been having these issues lately. They built their magnification system like no one else, but they didn’t seem to account for the need to recalibrate the scope every once in a while. Recalibrating too often causes the lenses to misalign.”

Mando calibrated his every day. He had to. It was part of his job. A miscalibration could be the difference between a two hour hunt and a twelve hour hunt.

Your face twisted in concentration as you inserted the tool into the side of the scope. Jostling the metal, it popped open and allowed access to the inside. “For some reason they put these weird pins in…” You trailed off while you removed a total of three thin metal pins. Once the pins were removed, you clicked the top of the scope back into place and handed it to Mando.

Mando previously took the scope apart countless times. He never noticed any pins.

“Twenty credits, please.” You said with a smile. Your gaze met his–you somehow found it through his black visor–and you maintained eye contact.

The display on the inside of Mando’s helmet only progressed seven minutes after he entered the store. Inside of his helmet his eyebrows shot up. He was impressed. Not only with your efficiency, but with the reasonable price as well.

“I’m impressed.” He stated. Nodding at you, he retrieved a few credits from his utility belt and set them on the paint chipped counter. He turned and walked a few paces and then stopped in front of the door.

He’s been looking for a crew mate for weeks. The potential candidates he’s stumbled across were either annoying, rude, or incompetent. Throughout his time as a bounty hunter he’s been to countless repair shops. The service was always lack-luster, prices were too high, repair time much too long.

Sure, he just met you eight minutes ago, but you had potential. He turned on his heel and faced you. Armor glinted in the low lighting of the run down shop.

“Are you in the market for a new job?”

–

Walking to the market, he’d been reflecting on his decision to bring you onto the Crest as a crew partner.

It was the best decision he ever made, besides saving Grogu from the Empire.

You were intelligent. Friendly. Resourceful. Efficient. Brave.

You stared a Mandalorian straight in the eyes–well, visor–and didn’t even flinch. You didn’t even break eye contact, unlike everyone else. People would turn to whoever they’re with to avoid his gaze. They spoke like he wasn’t a meter or two away–and like he couldn’t amplify their voices with his helmet.

His tall, broad stance usually set everyone on edge. The heavy weight of beskar armor, a reminder of his skillset, didn’t aid in calming the nerves of anyone either. He was typically soft spoken around others, as he noticed people’s reactions when he spoke–eyes wide, speech stuttering, shaking hands–scared.

Everyone was afraid of him.

Except you.

When you first boarded the Razor Crest, Mando was extremely careful in making sure you were comfortable. The majority of his days not hunting were spent in the cockpit or in his bunk. Whenever you crossed paths in the hull you offered him a small smile and quickly looked away. Did your bravery fade away?

He came back from a hunt one day, quarry in tow, and he was relieved to hear, “How was your day?” Fall from your lips once the bounty was in carbonite.

Still cautious–mindful of how the modulator made his voice sound–he kept his answers short and to the point.

“Fine.”

“Busy.”

“Awful.”

Hearing the four words you said after each return from a hunt, and being able to give you a response without you slinking away, made the hunts worth it.

One night always stood out in his mind. It was just like any other return from one of his hunts. Mando dragged the quarry up the Crest’s ramp by a cord tied around their ankles. He lifted the man to stand up, doing so effortlessly with a few grunts to spare.

Your living space was in the hull, so he always tried to make the ends of his hunts fast. You didn’t have any choice but to watch. Mando didn’t want to make you watch for too long. Maker, he didn’t want you to watch at all.

His fist slammed the button to begin the freezing process. Breathing heavily, he stood and watched the bounty as they froze into the carbonite cell. A blanket of silence covered the hull once the hissing of the freezing mechanisms came to a stop.

“How was your day?”

There it is. His favorite part after the hunt. Knowing you were there, safe within the hull, and that you wanted to be friendly with him–even after witnessing him freeze a person he tracked down for several hours.

“Nothing you want to hear about,” he replied, his voice tinged with tiredness. The helmet’s modulator most likely didn’t register the sleep in his voice. Truly, he didn’t think that you would want to hear about it. The Mandalorian was afraid that hearing about his hunts would put you on edge. You already extended a branch of friendliness to him twice a day. He didn’t want to give that up by talking about the bounties he tracks down.

“Try me.”

Those words.

Those words have only ever been spoken to him by enemies. It always caused annoyance to wash over him, head to toe. He’s a Mandalorian. Confident of his skills in combat. No matter the odds, Mando knew he would like them.

But when those words tumbled from your lips, it was different. When his enemies weren’t scared of him, it was annoying. When you weren’t scared of him, adoration filled his body. And not adoration in a patronizing way, but adoration as a form of respect.

It made him want you that much more.

Snapping out of his thoughts, Mando realized the crotch of his pants were tight. Nonchalantly, he clasped his hands together and rested them below his belt.

“Quarry tried to escape and they ran. Would have been back four hours ago,” the modulator gritted out. Again, he was conscious of how the modulator warped his voice. “Not too fun,” he added in an attempt to make the conversation more casual.

You were silent. He whispered a curse to himself under his helmet, one that he was certain wouldn’t be picked up by his modulator. Was his answer too much? Mando quickly became nervous and started to shift his weight from one foot to the other. The silence you left in the air made him a bit anxious.

The T shape of his visor peered over to you. You stood still in shock, reminiscent of the people that saw him in public. Before his thoughts could spiral too much, you replied, “Oh, I’m sorry.”

Dank farrik. He didn’t want you to feel like you had to comfort him. “You don’t have to be sorry,” his chest brushed against your shoulder as he swiftly hopped onto the first rung of the ladder up to the cockpit. “It’s my job.”

“That doesn’t mean it sucks any less,” you said. He smiled underneath his helmet at your consideration. Your eyes widened and your mouth opened and closed as you realized what you said, “sorry, I probably shouldn’t have said that your job sucks.”

You weren’t wrong. Making his way through tough terrain, relying on a blinking red light on a piece of metal to guide him. Finding them was a task in itself, but dragging them back to the Crest was the other half of his job that sucked. Mando looked over his shoulder at you and replied matter-of-factly, “My job does suck.”

A giggle bubbled out from your chest. Every once in a while you would be reading a funny article on your Holopad and your laughs would echo through the hull of the Crest, making their way up into the cockpit. He needed more of them. His silver helmet shook slightly from side to side and he turned back to climb the ladder. But not before he also let out a small chuckle.

If you were comfortable enough to stand up to him, and laugh at his awful attempts at jokes–after he just hauled a bounty onto the ship–Mando realized he was safe.

Not only were you safe with him. He felt safe with you, in more ways than one.

Kriff it. You extended a friendly attitude towards him–a faceless warrior covered in impenetrable armor–then he could extend a friendly attitude towards you as well.

You asked him about this day, both in the mornings and the evenings. He learned about what you like and didn’t like. One item stood out to him. Caf. He always entered into a cloud of caf scent when he sauntered into the hull in the mornings. Mando was usually up before you, so he figured he would start making you a cup every morning. Confident enough in knowing which kinds of caf you preferred, he would stock up on caf every supply run.

The Mandalorian got closer to you, both physically and emotionally. Sometimes he would catch his hands landing on your waist or your lower back when he passed you on the ship. You’d shoot him a small smile in response. The distance he kept from you only decreased. He wanted to see your smile more and more.

One thing he didn’t see coming was your interest in Mando’a. He would mumble to himself in the ship while completing various tasks.

“What’s that word mean?” You’d occasionally ask. The Mandalorian would explain their meanings, sometimes struggling to translate the word to Basic.

He must have taught you at least two dozen words in Mando’a by now. Each time you asked you would give him your full attention.

At night, if he amplified the sound with his helmet enough, he could hear you practicing the words and recalling their meanings. It motivated him to share more words with you.

–

All of these experiences have led to this day. He’s been planning it for a month or two now.

He wants to ask you on a date. Nerves bubbled up from his stomach and throughout his body. They suddenly came to a halt.

Not now. First, he needs to collect information on a quarry.

Lost in his thoughts, he looked up and the market filled his vision with you in his peripheral. It wasn’t too busy, part of the reason why he was comfortable enough for you to shop on your own. He clarified the meet up point to you and watched as you took off. You had a bounce in your step, probably due to your excitement at shopping alone.

Once he meandered further into the market he began to collect information. This market was the bounty’s last location. Mando’s guess was that he either simply wanted to be in a small city, gambled their life savings away, or they paid for visit after visit with the workers at the brothel until they ran out of credits.

Only one way to find out. The gambling and brothels didn’t start up until later in the afternoon. To kill the time, and to possibly find the quarry, Mando wandered throughout the different sections of the market.

He asked a few vendors about the bounty. Mando described the man to many market sellers and only got a slight lead from one woman donned in patterned fabrics.

“I think he went that way,” the woman gestured with one of her hands towards an intersection, “Take the left path. I don’t know anything else beyond that.”

Mando dropped a few credits into her hand and gave her a polite nod, “Thank you.” He continued on and curved his gait to take the left path. From the signs and general merchandise displayed on each stall, he knew he was entering the clothing section of the market.

The helmet covering his head swiveled from left to right and right to left. No one matched the description of his quarry. Repeating his previous process, he made his way down the stall-lined alley and asked a couple different vendors.

Once the last vendor finished talking, and provided him with another lead, he dug his hand into his pocket and slid the credits on the stall’s counter towards them. Turning his back towards the vendor, his feet carried him two steps back into the market.

Then he saw you.

You stood hunched over a table of colorful bracelets. Tapping his fingers to the temple of his helmet, Mando zoomed in and the helmet displayed your face to him, deep in thought. Looking down, you were hovering your hands over a grid of various green bracelets.

You stopped on one. Mostly brown, almost too much to be in the green section, Mando thought. Nonetheless, the green and silver streaks peeked in and out of the thick threads of brown that made up the bracelet. Your fingers sorted through the sizes of the bracelet and selected one that looked close to your size.

Clutching it in one hand, the other hand searched for another of the same bracelet. It was larger than the previous size. You set the smaller bracelet down and tested the strings. The bracelet was adjustable, and you smiled at the discovery.

You transferred the bracelets onto the table of the stall and used one hand to dig into your pockets. Palm held out flat, Mando guessed that about twenty credits sat in your palm. He followed your gaze to the sign listing the prices.

PRICES

1 bracelet = 15 credits

2 = 30 credits

3 = 45 credits

4 = 60 credits

Shoulders falling, you dropped the credits back into your pocket and returned the bracelets to their original spot in the grid of green. Ground crunched beneath your shoes as you turned and continued wandering through the market.

Mando noted it was the third stall to the left of the bright green stall on the left side of the alley.

Not wanting you to realize he saw you, the Mandalorian walked in the opposite direction you took. After twenty minutes he noticed that the stalls became much more strange than the stalls in the clothing section of the market. Peering at the different products for sale, he saw a potions shop offering “super strength elixir” and a vendor selling various pet-like creatures. A few more vendors passed his peripheral vision as he continued his strides. They came to a stop once a building larger than the surrounding stalls came into view.

His helmet tilted upwards to read the sign displayed front and center on the large building: BROTHEL.

Tapping the side of his helmet, the time on the helmet’s display indicated that the brothel and gambling scenes had just begun. Mando tapped the temple of his helmet once again and the warm bodies within the building lit up, like he had x-ray vision. He counted a dozen in total. One body stood in the same spot inside near an entryway–the bouncer, Mando thought.

The bouncer was the individual that allowed access in and out of the building. If their memory was decent, they would be like a living guest book. Mando figured he could bribe them to reveal information, which was his usual plan with most of the beings he spoke with.

He sauntered over to the side of the building the bouncer was standing at. A singular light flickered over the side door, the sun was still out, so Mando was confused why it was on. The beskar helmet observed the side door.

Metal. Double deadbolts. Keypad on the left side. Small slit at eye level–neck level for the Mandalorian.

As soon as he crouched down to look near the slit, it slid open and revealed a thick pair of black eyebrows. Black eyes bore into the brow of Mando’s helmet, as the bouncer couldn’t seem to find his eyes.

“Do you have an appointment?” The bouncer asked. The voice behind the door was gruff, as if the words had to crawl from the depths of his throat.

“No,” Mando responded.

Black eyes blinked and then disappeared when the bouncer closed the metal slit.

Mando was taken aback and furrowed his brow. His fist pounded on the door. He just wanted this hunt to be over with. He wanted to get back to you.

The slit in the door revealed two black eyes once more.

“I have credits and will pay you if you give me information on a client your establishment may have served.” Mando’s modulator gritted out loudly. Straight and to the point. All business.

Eyes disappeared again, but were then accompanied with the sounds of the deadbolts unlocking. The metal door swung open to reveal a man dressed in all black with a silver name tag. Black hair matched the rest of his ensemble.

Still holding the door, the bouncer asked, “What’s the bounty look like?”

An eyebrow raised inside Mando’s helmet, but he figured the bouncer knew the drill by now. Even other bounty hunters knew that brothels were what many bounties visited. A gloved hand unbuttoned a pocket on his belt and retrieved a bounty puck. Clicking the side of it, the puck displayed the quarry.

The man stepped out of the doorway and onto the pavement, pulling the door closed behind him. His black eyes slightly squinted when his gaze trailed up and down the hologram.

“Ah yeah, I’ve seen this guy. He has a type, always goes for the blondes.”

“Does he have any upcoming appointments?” Mando questioned.

The bouncer sighed in thought and pulled a small notepad from his pocket. Mando mirrored the man’s motion and produced a pen and notepad from his pocket.

“The guy has an appointment in two days. He just asked to see a blonde. Figures.” The man shrugged and opened his notepad. Mando noticed it was a planner, and the bouncer flipped to the pages for the appointments two days from today.

“Which workers would take him as a client?” Mando’s modulator churned the words. His pen clicked as he readied himself to write.

The man donned in black made a fist with one hand and raised a finger with each name, “Ari. Taima. And Nomi. They would be in rooms one, five, or seven.”

Wow, Mando thought, this guy really knew the drill. He quickly finished up writing down the names and room numbers of each worker. The pen scratched feverishly against the cream colored paper, leaving behind black strokes to form letters and numbers. Notepad folding closed and the pen clicking, signifying the end of his notes, Mando returned the pen and paper to their place in his pocket. His opposing hand reached into a different pocket and produced a sizable amount of credits. Feeling generous, thankful that this hunt was going to be quick, he compensated the bouncer handsomely.

First task done. Second task on the horizon.

Creaking produced from the hinges of the metal door as the bouncer disappeared behind it once more. Flickering light gleamed off the beskar armor that protected the Mandalorian in combat. Although he wasn’t going into combat, because he wouldn’t be nervous if he was.

Mando trained most of his life with the greatest warriors in the galaxy. Combat flowed through his blood easily. It was a part of him.

But he was never trained on how to ask people out on dates.

On top of that, he was never trained on how to ask you out on a date.

He didn’t want to misread the situation. You could just be friendly. Who would want to date a man and not know what he looks like? Who would want to constantly live on a ship, without a permanent home?

Being Mando, he prepared for the worst. If you said no, he figured that you would be uncomfortable living with the man who asked you out on a date. Knowing that he’s attracted to you. He would fly wherever you wanted and give you some credits to get started. Kriff, he’d send credits for however long it takes for you to get on your feet. Then he’d leave you alone.

Admittedly, the Mandalorian would probably keep an eye on you to make sure you were safe. You just wouldn’t know he’s there.

But if you said yes.

Mando’s chest bloomed with anticipation. Firework-like tingles trailed up and down his limbs at the thought. He bit his lip within the confines of his helmet when he realized his pants had gotten tighter. Thankfully he was a Mandalorian, because heat washed over his face, half due to arousal and the other half in embarrassment.

The brown eyes underneath the helmet widened. If he wanted to do more with you and you agreed, he didn’t have protection.

Turning on his heel, cape whipping behind him, he made a quick pace back to the brothel.

Once he arrived at the gray building, the light at the side of the building having more of a purpose, Mando glided towards the same door as before. Bringing a fist up to the metal, he knocked three times.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Clink. Shhhkt.

“Do you sell condoms?” the modulator quickly blurted.

All business.

—

He arrived at the meet up point before you. Leaning against a nearby tree, Mando checked the time constantly, as if he was devoted to the action more than his Creed. If you were late, he always went looking.

Thankfully, you trudged up to the food stall on time with a hefty bag full of purchases. Fine, brown gravel grinded against the soles of Mando’s shoes as he made his way over to you. His gloved hand slipped the bag from your grasp and the pair of you began walking back to the Crest.

Both of you carried on with your normal post-supply run routines. You and Mando, but this time just Mando, piled the purchases from the market onto the hull’s floor. From there, the items could be sorted through and put in their respective places around the Crest.

As Mando finished unloading the large bag of purchases, he quickly dug around for the receipts. He knew how much you liked to review the shopping haul each time a supply run was completed. Mando enjoyed seeing the satisfaction wash over your face after you read over the receipts.

But this time was different. You froze once you got to the last receipt.

Mando’s helmet tilted in confusion. He took a few steps closer towards you, “What’s wrong? Did we forget something?”

You remained still while your eyes darted over the lines on the receipt. With your back turned to him, Mando found the opportunity to zoom in on the ink printed on the flimsy paper.

ITEMS PURCHASED (1)

CONDOM - 12 PACK

Oh. Fuck. FUCK.

He hasn’t even asked you on a date yet and now you probably already think he’s a perv. Nerves took over his body as you continued to stand still.

Your hand quickly crushed the receipts and threw them in the trash, “Nope! The last receipt didn’t look familiar but,” you trailed off slightly but recovered, “I remembered what I bought from the place.” A nervous laugh–obviously fake, Mando knew what your real one sounded like–escaped from your lips.

He fucked it up. You knew he was interested in you like that. And you didn’t feel the same. He hasn’t even asked you on the date yet. It’s all screwed up now.

But he also felt like he didn’t have enough evidence. What if you did like him but the idea of…needing to use the condoms…made you nervous.

Mando had to at least try. The least he had to do was ask you.

He cleared his throat and grabbed the bag off of the floor. You stood away from him, biting the inside of your cheek, nervously watching his movements.

“I’m going to go to the night market,” he informed you, “I have some business with a bounty I need to take care of.”

The bounty wouldn’t be captured until two days from now. In reality, he was really going to go and purchase snacks, takeout, and a pair of those bracelets you admired. It would have been suspicious if he met you back at the meet up point with bags full of snacks. The beskar man figured it would be best to hold off on buying them until later, and tell you he was getting a bounty, so you wouldn’t catch on.

He should’ve waited for this second trip to buy the condoms, he thought.

–

Mando left to, “Go to the night market,” he said. You saw the condom listed on the market receipts, you knew where he went tonight. What he’s going to do.

The brothels.

Yeah, sure, he’s paying a worker to give him a service. No feelings attached. But you didn’t want him to be with anyone else. Was Mando necessarily yours? No. Have you ever had sex with him? Also no.

That didn’t stop you from getting jealous.

And it wasn’t just jealousy. It was fear. What if he fell in love with one of them? Or what if he was going on dates? He could have a romantic interest you don’t even know about. Next thing you know, they’re going steady and you’re kicked off the ship. Or worse, you have to watch him love someone that isn’t you.

No more silence with him in the cockpit, watching as the hyperspace lights soar past the windshield. Feet tapping down the ladder as you both began your nighttime routines. He’d wait in the hull near the door of the fresher in just his helmet, undershirt, sleep pants, and socks. As he lifted off the wall from his leaning stance he’d ask you, “Are you done?” Holding his own hands in front of him, trying to seem relaxed, as if he was trying to look less intimidating. “Yeah,” you’d quickly respond, leaving the fresher and brushing past him. Sometimes his hand found your waist as he passed, or the small of your back. “Thank you,” he’d grunt gently as he closed the fresher door.

No more of Mando letting out a small, “Good night,” before lingering on your closing eyes and watching as your lips smiled, forming your response, “Good night.”

Falling asleep, you knew you’d wake up to him. He would be up before you on most days, leaving you a fresh cup of caf and your favorite ration pack (when he had them). The short chatter between you two, going over the logistics of the next hunt, telling stories from your past, or just thinking out loud to each other. Gone.

You would be banished from home.

The fear struck your chest. Heat searing through your ribcage and meeting your spine, the visions repeated over and over in your head. Tears fell like waterfalls from your eyes. Most streams connected underneath your chin and trailed down your neck. Your back met the hull’s wall as you sank down onto the floor. Deep breaths. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Your head was heavy and numb.

Just breathe. You knew you weren’t going to die. Go through some heartbreak? Maybe, but you knew you’d be alive. It helped. Your breath slowed and the fear dissipated into the air around you. That didn’t stop the flow of tears down your cheeks as your eyes were fixed on the closed ramp.

–

Mando’s footsteps set a steady pace back to the market.

Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

He displayed a map of the marketplace as an overlay on the display of his helmet. Mando usually reserved this practice for combat to aid in determining exit strategies and the best plan of attack.

But now he was using it to calculate the most efficient route throughout the marketplace in order to see you again sooner.

Closing the overlay from the helmet’s display, he was met with the sight of the market. Long strings of lights decorated the different stalls. Many vendors took advantage of the dark and used different, bright combinations to reel in customers. Some lights were multicolored. Some flashing. Some huge and some small. He thought of the “ooh”s, and, “ahh”s that you would let out at the brilliant display.

The Mandalorian started in the food section of the market. Carefully examining which vendors carried your favorite snacks, he made purchase after purchase in quick succession. His helmet remained on a swivel, scanning the stalls from right to left and left to right.

A stall offering your favorite kind of takeout came into view.

Once Mando arrived at the stall he ordered two takeout meals. The vendor looked startled and confused as he ordered. They shakily accepted the credits for the two meals. Gazes drifted away from Mando and quickly returned as he stood waiting for the meals to be prepared. A bell rang and he retrieved two warm containers, placing them in his bag alongside the snacks.

One last stop. The bracelets.

Marching through the food district, he came upon an intersection at which the left path led him to the clothing district. Yet again, his helmet pivoted on his neck from one side to another.

The third stall to the left of the bright green stall on the left side of the alley.

Mando continued his steady pace until the bright green stall came into view. The brightness of the exterior paint was exaggerated by the warm light emitted by lanterns, which decorated the outside of the shop. He didn’t notice before but the store sold children’s clothes. Onesies. Small shoes. Tiny hats.

A small tunic. Small enough for a human child younger than one year old. The tunic reminded him of Grogu’s. Mando’s bare hands brushed against the material countless times as he cradled The Child in his arms.

The last time he spoke about Grogu was with you. You listened and offered support. He’s never had anyone do that for him.

His visor turned to his left. The soft fairy lights of the stall reflected off of the beskar helmet on his head. As if the beskar reflected a dark sky decorated with bright stars. Various fabrics hung from the side of the vendor’s stall to cover the old wooden planks. Little accessories were placed throughout the shop on different tables and displays.

Mando wasn’t focused on those items, he was focused on the long table of bracelets organized by color. His feet carried him to the green section. The helmet turned downwards to allow him to observe the selection.

Shit.

There were so many bracelets similar to the pair you held, just all in different combinations of green, silver, and brown. Was it the bracelet with the large green cord and the small silver and brown threads? Or the one with the large silver cord and green and brown threads? Or thick brown cord with streaks of green and silver? His hands hovered over the options, doing his best to recall the details from earlier in the day.

“It’s this one,” a woman’s voice said.

A bit startled, the Mandalorian looked up and found a woman standing on the other side of the table. She wore long robes with intricate patterns. Jewelry decorated every limb and part of her body, like jewels were dripping down from her skin from a storm of gemstones. Hair cascaded around her shoulders and down her back. Her smile was kind and her gaze met Mando at his eyebrow.

A good try, he thought.

“I’m sorry?” He replies. She couldn’t possibly know which bracelet he was trying to find.

“You were watching them earlier. From across the street,” she let out faint exhales as she let out a short laugh, “Maybe you should hide a little better next time.”

She reached out and picked two bracelets out of the display grid. “I remember the sizes too,” she said, “The person you watched held onto them for so long, they seemed pretty attached to them. I kept track of which bracelets they were just in case.” The robed woman shot him a friendly wink.

“In case of what?” Mando questioned. He was still in shock that the woman noticed him staring at you from across the street.

The woman glanced up at him like that was a dumb question, “In case you came back to get them, Mandalorian. This isn’t my first day on the job.”

It saved him the time and stress of trying to remember which one it was, so he shrugged and watched the woman’s jewelry dangle as she typed onto the register.

Beep. Beep. Beep beep. Ching.

“Okay sir, twenty credits please!” The woman extended her hand out and waited for Mando to place credits into her palm. She was met with the tilting of the black T shape on Mando’s beskar helmet.

“I thought the price was thirty,” he stated as he began to reach into his pockets to retrieve his credits.

The woman let out another small laugh, “Oh, I suppose I should have made the sign larger,” her decorated fingers pointed to a small sign above the one that displays the bracelet prices.

$10 OFF WHEN YOU BUY TWO OR MORE

Mando’s shoulders dip in realization that you could’ve bought the bracelets in the first place. A sigh escapes his modulator and he hands the credits over to the intricately robed vendor. The credits clink into her palm, and then into the register.

He waits silently for her to package them up in a small bag.

“They like you, you know,” the woman mentions, “No one like them would be deciding on which bracelets to buy for that long if they didn’t.” She paused as she was about to place the larger of the two into the small bag, “And look at the size of this one! It’s definitely for you.”

The Mandalorian nods, “I appreciate that,” he pauses before turning away, “let’s hope they do.”

–

Mando sets a faster pace back to the Crest than the one he took from the Crest to the market. He’s impatient, he can’t wait to walk up the ramp and see your body curled up, comfortable and safe, while you sleep soundly in your bed–if you can even call it that, he thought. You usually went to bed early when he went on hunts, otherwise you would be awake talking to him.

Slipping the bag from his shoulder, an ungloved hand rummaged through the contents searching for a small bag. His fingers found the familiar texture and he pulled it out from between the snacks and the takeout.

Mando slung the bag back over his shoulder, pulled the larger of the two bracelets out of the small bag, and slipped his hand through the ring of brown, silver, and green. Grabbing one of the ends with his fingers and pinning it to his palm, the other hand tightened the bracelet to a comfortable size around his wrist.

Once the small bag was returned to its place inside of the larger one, Mando peered around him to get a good look of his surroundings.

The sun was about to set, leaving only a sliver of light available to provide dim light to the landscape. Rocks littered the ground. Shadows from each one making them appear larger in the light of the impending dusk. He reached up and tapped a finger to the temple of his helmet. No living thing was around him.

He paused and set the bag on the ground. Doing one last scan of the area, one of his hands gripped the chin of his helmet and lifted the beskar from his head. The hand held the helmet at his side while he marveled at his wrist.

He caught a good patch of remaining light and watched as the green and silver threads gleamed against the thick brown ones. The bracelet was beautiful. Not only because of the design, but because you picked it out. And it was for him.

Becoming paranoid, the Mandalorian quickly slipped his helmet back onto his head. He waited for the seal of the helmet to engage before continuing back towards the Crest. This time, at an even faster pace.

–

You sat there until you heard heavy footsteps approaching from outside, the hydraulics of the ramp coming to life. Thinking fast, you stood up and made your way towards the fresher to start your nighttime routine.

“Why are you still awake?” Mando’s voice was confused. He stood in front at the top of the ramp with his helmet tilted, hands resting on his hips, but his shoulders were slumped, a bag slung around one. He looked…worried.

Mando was right. Usually when he went on hunts you went to bed early. Nowadays the only thing that kept you awake was him. Talking with him was how you spent most evenings on the Crest, your voices echoed and bounced back to each other in the hull.

He’s used to seeing you curled up on the sleeping pad covered in blankets. Soft breaths came from your body and radiated throughout the Crest. Just like a minute ago, his footsteps would come up the ramp with his bounty in tow. Soft grunts could be heard kitty-corner from your spot in the hull. A hiss of mechanisms as they froze the bounty in carbonite. Then a bit of silence.

The absence of the carbonite freezing stood out in your mind. No bounty, even when he said he was going to go and find one. Your eyes teared up slightly again as the realization truly set in. Mando really did go to the brothel.

You just wanted this night to be like any other night he came back to the Crest with a bounty.

After the bounty was frozen, heavy footsteps made their way across the floor of the hull. But they always stopped a few paces away from your bed, halting for a moment. Mando would complete his nightly routine. Setting the Crest’s coordinates for the next planet and showering in the fresher if he needed to–he usually did.

No matter what the events of his nightly routine were, it always ended with him standing in the doorway of his bunk–the sound of his footsteps always stopped partially inside.

“Good night, cyar'ika.”

You didn’t know what the Mando’a meant, since Mando never used that word around you, but you knew that the, “good night,” was all you needed to finally fall asleep.

You always waited up for him, only until reasonable hours of the night, of course, but he didn’t know it.

The sound of his footsteps in the present snapped you out of your hazy state. Crying really does a number on your brain.

“Just…couldn’t fall asleep,” you offered him a small smile as you pulled some products out of the tiny fresher cabinet. You wet your face and applied a small amount onto your fingertips, tapping them together for both hands to have the product. As you lifted your face and your hands to the mirror to begin washing your face, you were met with swollen lips, puffy eyes, and slight tear trails dried onto your face, despite the water you just splashed onto it. You froze.

There goes any of your chances to get away with how you spent your night. Staying up late staring at the Crest’s ramp. Waiting for Mando to come home. At least what you thought was home.

“What’s wrong?” Mando’s voice got clearer as he approached the fresher door. His strides long, footsteps clunking, as he removed his leather gloves and tucked the pair into his utility belt.

You went to turn away from him but he got there faster than you could. His ungloved hand rested on your shoulder, grip slow yet firm as he turned you to face him. He rubbed tiny circles onto your skin with his thumb once his eyes beneath the helmet noticed yours.

Your reflection on the silver beskar of his helmet stared back at you. Could you even get away with a lie at this point? What else would have made you cry? It’s not exactly like you could have said the truth either.

Oh yeah, I was sitting here having a panic attack as you participated in a perfectly normal service that is offered on this planet. Then I spiraled and thought about how you might not even want me to be here, that you’ll find another partner to be on this ship with you, and toss me away like none of this meant anything to you.

Mando’s hand waved in front of your face and it brought you back into the present moment. “Did someone come onto the ship while I was gone?” His voice gritted out from the helmet’s modulator.

“Maker, no,” you huffed and tried to look less suspicious, hoping he’ll just drop the topic.

“Then what is it?” He murmured, his modulator barely picking up his syllables. His wide shoulders took up most of the fresher’s door frame. The grip on your shoulder tightened slightly.

“It’s…I don’t think you’ll want to hear it.” You shrugged and repressed the heat of anxiety creeping down the back of your head. Turning to wash and dry your hands, you let out a sigh and started to walk towards the main open space of the hull. Your shoulder gently bumped him as you slid past his large frame in the doorway.

Suddenly your hips were being snapped backwards and dragged back towards the fresher. His damn finger was in your belt loop again.

He pulled you close to him, feeling the heat from his knuckle dig into your hip and spread throughout the rest of your body. His helmet leaned down to look you in the eye and tilted once again.

“Try me,” he paused. He brought his hand up to grip onto the valley where your neck meets your shoulder, slowly enough so you could back away if you so desired. His large palm and thick fingers were calloused and warm. The grip he had on you was still gentle, slightly squeezing. “You know you can tell me, right?”

You let a deep inhale permeate through your lungs. The words flowed through your individual cells. Thoughts of lying escaped your body with each breath. The debate inside your head would end. Whether he had those feelings for you or not.

“I got upset because you went to the brothel.” You told him. Lips trembling and eyes squinted open in an attempt to meet his gaze.

“The brothel?” He held both of your shoulders and brought his visor closer to your face. Thumbs rubbed your shoulders yet again. He sighed as your name left his lips and traveled through his helmet, “I didn’t go to a brothel tonight.” A titled T-shaped gaze met yours. You knew he was looking you in the eyes, and yours into his.

Brows furrowed, you sniffled slightly, “I-, I saw that condoms were on the market receipts.” The thumbs on your shoulders stopped, his chest didn’t rise and fall. He froze. You made Mando freeze.

“Look I know I’m just being dramatic and paying for that kind of thing is completely normal. I just,” you trailed off and thought of a quick replacement for your worry, “I was worried you would get hurt there.”

Mando’s shoulders fell and his helmet cocked to the side. “What?” He questioned. “How would I get hurt? None of the workers there had weapons.”

“How would you know that if you didn’t go?” You whispered to him. Your gaze left his and it dropped to the shape in the center of his chestplate. The crystal shape rose up and down slowly.

“I got information on a bounty there earlier,” he sounded like he was talking to a hurt animal. Gentle. Slow. Calm. “What's the actual reason you’re upset?”

Kriff it.

“I had a panic attack because I thought you went to the brothel. Maybe you would like the worker there more than you like me, I spiraled and thought about how you might not even want me to be here, that you’ll find another partner to be on this ship with you,” your chest heaved and as you listed off your previous thoughts of worry. Your hands shook as they landed on top of Mando’s, and you took a deep breath, eyes meeting his gaze like before, “and toss me away like none of this meant anything to you.”

Mando is quick. He flipped his hands to grab one of yours and tugged you into the hull. Kneeling, he opened a cloth bag, one from the market, and dug into it to search for something.

He actually went to the night market. You thought, now you look so clingy. So needy. He was just going to show you what he got to prove he went.

He turned and held his hand out. Sitting on top of the golden skin on his palm was a bracelet.

The bracelet from the market.

“I saw you looking at these, you looked for a long time and then put them down,” He stood up and set his gait to slow steps as he made his way over to you.

You laughed nervously, accompanied by a small sniffle, “Sorry yeah, I know I just should have been getting the stuff we needed. You didn’t have to go back and get it for-.” Mando raised a finger to halt your speech and continued what he was saying previously, “you put them down. You had two bracelets.”

“They had lots of them that I liked…I had two that were a tie and I just decided to get neither-.” Mando cut you off again.

“You were holding one bracelet consistently and then picked another in a bigger size,” you froze at his words. Dank farrik. Now he was going to think you’re super clingy.

“I wasn't completely sure who you wanted to wear the bracelet, but I took a guess.” He pulled his long sleeve past his elbow and revealed his bare forearm. Strong. Capable. Solid. And a matching bracelet was donned on his wrist.

Your cheeks radiated with heat as he took your wrist and put your bracelet on you. His warm fingertips brushed the soft skin of your wrist, sending chills throughout your body at the meticulous skin-on-skin contact.

Once the bracelet was secure around your wrist, Mando dipped his head and looked down at the floor. One of his hands gripped the underside of his helmet, and the other held onto your wrist. Your breath caught in your throat at the gesture. He quickly lifted his helmet to release his mouth, and he pressed three kisses on your wrist where the bracelet was. Mando’s lips were soft and timid, his hand caressing the skin on yours. Silver from his beskar helmet blocked your view, but Mando sealed his helmet and brought his eyes underneath the visor to look into yours.

“This means everything to me.”

Supply Run - Exchange (part three)

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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

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h3rmess · 1 month

Text

SAVE A HORSE, RIDE A COWBOY

Written by @h3rmess ✰

navi☆

-> cowboy!satoru x afab!reader x cowboy!suguru

warnings - SMUT! use of swear words, use of some spanish (im not native so please correct me if I got something wrong!!) Spanish translation at the end!!

notes - im literally screaming satosugu as cowboys have me in a CHOKEHOLDDD - smut is not usual from me pls don't cringe, or I'll cry

Wandering into the unfamiliar town, I looked around for anything that could indicate my next move. My horse, Lucky, was worn out beyond belief. The summer heat was like no other as she trotted through the desert. I dismounted, spotting a stable a few steps away from us. I led my girl into the stable, the shade it provided, relieving us instantly. I looked around to see if anyone was there.

"Hello? Anybody here?" I hollered, receiving no reply. With a huff, I stroked Lucky's head, comforting her, urging her to hold up a little longer.

A whistle echoed through the stable, catching my attention instantly.

"Well, ain't she a beauty!" His boots clicked on the ground, his hands in the loopholes of his jeans as he made his way in front of us.

"She really is." I looked at Lucky, petting her as she shook her head, neighing.

"I wasn't talking about the horse, muñeca." His voice deepened, igniting something in me.

He made his way closer towards me, inspecting me with careful eyes, his long black hair flowing out of his hat.

"What's a beauty like you doin' 'round here?" He neared me, his slender eyes making me feel like I had to submit to him.

"Oh! I - uh, got a lil' lost." I tried my best to maintain composure.

"Well, don't worry, amor, we'll take good care of you." He slung his arm around me, the proximity only worsening the heat I felt.

"W-we?" I stuttered, causing him to chuckle and turn his head to look behind him.

"Satoru!" He shouted.

As if on cue, a man came in riding a gorgeous brown horse, looking absolutely majestic.

"Yeah? Oh my!" He exclaimed, immediately jumping off his horse and walking towards me. "Who's this?" He asked the black hair man.

"She hasn't told us yet. What's your name, guapa?"

Me breath hitched before I told him, a satisfied hum leaving both their mouths.

"Pretty name for a pretty lady." The man with white hair spoke, taking his sunglasses off to reveal his huge, blue eyes. The colour mesmerised me, causing me to freeze in place, completely unable to move.

"¿Qué pasó, princesa? Cat got your tongue?" The person who I figured to be Satoru taunted, moving closer to me.

My heart beat quickened and I began to swear, thinking only one thing about these men ; they are so fuckable.

"What did you come here for, hm?" The black haired man spoke, his tone making me want to drop to my knees.

"My- uh- m-my horse, Lucky. She's dehydrated, and I wanted to get her some food, water, and rest." I stumbled over each word, making a fool of myself.

"Hear the way she's stuttering, Suguru!" Satoru nudged the black haired man as they both chuckled.

"She truly is precious. Can't let a gem like you get away now, can we?" Suguru's hand found its way to my chin, holding it firmly and lifting my head up to look into his eyes. "We'll get ya all fixed up, alright? Don't you worry, linda."

I nodded dumbly at the two men, following them into where the horses were kept, leading my girl on behind me.

They kept to their word, making sure Lucky had enough food and plenty of water and then allowing her to sleep. I was so grateful to them for lending us their resources out of the kindness of their hearts.

Those same hearts that I hadn't known wanted nothing more than to bend me over.

"She's all rested now, alright?" Satoru spoke, taking his hat off and taking a seat in a room separate to the stable. His legs were spread apart as sweat leaked down his semi-exposed chest. I tried to look at any modest part of him, but no matter how hard I tried, he managed to turn my thoughts lewd time and time again.

He sat on one side of me, Suguru, on the other in a similar position.

Would I be able to take them both? They both look so damn sexy right now. I wonder how big they are...

My thoughts caused my thighs to squeeze together. I thought about how they would manhandle me and I wouldn't complain. I yearned for friction, anything to give me a little bit of relief.

"¿Qué estás haciendo, muñequita?" Suguru asked, his hair out of its prevous bun and now falling sluttily onto his shoulders. It only made the heat between my legs grow, my thighs squeezing closer together.

I hadn't noticed, but I was staring. Intensely. I was undressing him with my eyes.

A finger snapped in front of my eyes, which happened to be Satoru's.

"You okay, querida?" He asked, his voice playful.

"Huh?" I replied simply, turning my head to face him.

"You've been looking at us like you want to fuck us since you got here." Suguru chimed in, making my face flush in embarrassment.

I tried to speak, but no words came out.

"You want us to fuck you, hm?" Satoru hummed, his sweet voice making a squirm slightly.

I nodded furiously, waiting for either of them to make a move.

"Use your words, mami." Suguru sent me over the edge as he placed his hand on my thigh, inching up closer and closer to my heat.

"Yes. Please, I need you... both of you." I mewled pathetically, embarrassed by the words that had just come out of my mouth.

With no hesitation, Suguru slipped his hands under my thighs, hoisting me up onto his lap. I felt his hardness underneath me, instinctively rolling my hips slowly over it, earning a soft grunt from him. His hands found my waist, caressing it up and down, further riling me up.

Satoru took my face in his hands, turning my head towards him and kissing me. He ate at my mouth, covering every single inch of my lips. I groaned into the kiss as Suguru's hands slipped under my skirt, holding onto the rim of my panties.

I grinned against him even harder, feeling Satoru's tongue slip into my mouth, digging its way down my throat.

"Calmate, girl!" Suguru announced, holding my hips to prevent any more movement.

Satoru pulled away from my lips, finding his way to my neck and sucking on the tender skin. I whimpered at his movements, making me grip on to Suguru's shoulders tighter than before.

His hands reached under my skirt, placing a singular finger pad on my clothed bunch of nerves. I cried out, needy and desperate, already fucked-out.

"So pretty..." Satoru whispered on my neck, the sensation paired with the praise, only making me wetter. I whined as I leaned into Suguru's chest.

"Please..." I cried as he massaged me, longing for closer contact.

"Hmm? Please what, amor?" His eyes were stuck on my tits which were squashed against his chest, making his cock twitch.

"I need you.." Satoru pulled away as I spoke, whisking me up and placing me on his lap, taking over Suguru's role.

"Need us how? Dime qué quieres, muñeca." Suguru's lips kissed my collar bone as Satoru unbuttoned my top.

I could only whimper as Satoru's left hand slipped beneath my panties, playing with my slick.

"She's so wet!" Satoru exclaimed, his lack of speech only to be blamed on him being completely immersed in the moment.

His finger moved to Suguru, who opened his mouth and sucked on it, tasting me.

"So sweet..." He groaned, palming himself through his jeans as he kissed my neck once more.

"I need to taste straight from the source. Would you like that, hermosa?" Satoru asked, pushing me down onto my back and moving himself in line with my still covered heat.

I nodded as he tugged at my panties before he stopped and looked up at me.

"Quiero oírte decirlo. Tell me that you want it." He asks for my consent as his face is between my legs, possibly being the hottest thing I've experienced.

"I want it." I tell him as he smirks, kissing up my thighs and sliding my panties down my legs.

"So pretty for us." He says, delving into my folds.

"The prettiest." Suguru adds.

TRANSLATION :

Muñeca = doll

Amor = love

Guapa = pretty

¿Qué pasó, princesa? = what happened, princess?

Linda = cutie

¿Qué estás haciendo, muñequita? = what are you doing, dolly?

Querida = dear

Mami = mommy

Calmate = take it easy

Dime qué quieres, muñeca = tell me what you want, doll

Hermosa = gorgeous

Quiero oírte decirlo = I want to hear you say it

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ronwestbreeze · 1 year

Text

TO YOU , WORLDS AWAY | PART ONE : CHAPTER TWO

pairing: jake sully x reader

summary: in which you are forced to be in the same vicinity as jake sully for months

warnings: none!

word count: 3.9k

author's note: yay another chapter!! :))

AO3 | prev | next

It had been a few weeks since the last time you had stepped foot in Hell’s Gate and ever since your conversation with Quaritch. Still, you had sent a few vague video messages for Grace and the newbies about the culture of Na’vi. The videos were mostly for Jake since Norm seemed well educated on the culture and language. It was easy for you to do and get out of the way one day a week. This was you being the tutor that Quaritch tried requesting. And technically you weren’t disobeying orders. But you did find yourself a loophole to avoid the Gate and Jake Sully all together.

That was until now.

“No!”

“Tinkers…” Grace sighed.

“Hell no, Augustine!”

You never thought you would find yourself yelling at Grace in all the time you’ve met her. It almost felt wrong. There was so much respect between you two, there was just never any way that you thought you’d be arguing with her this hotly, this irritated. Sure, there had been clashes in the past but those were tame and intellectual.

Now it was almost like a child snapping at their mother for the first time. You didn’t want to but your frustration and irritation had built up over time until it finally made you explode.

“He’s found and met the Omatikaya people, Tinkers. This could be our chance to rebuild a relationship with them if we do this right.” Grace's voice was cracking through the radio that you held in your hands. “And to do that we need a good set up, a good foundation away from the Gate. We have to have some distance, especially from Parker and Quaritch.”

That had made you stop. Your hands, which had been previously tinkering with your project, stopped moving as you focused your attention on the radio. “Why?” The question had come hastily, making you cringe at yourself. “I mean, what does this have to do with Quaritch?”

Grace responded in a lowered voice through the radio, “For some odd reason, I feel like you already know the answer to that, Tinkers. Which also explains your sudden attitude toward Jake. Yeah, don’t think I haven’t noticed, kid.” You rolled your eyes, knowing she was talking about your obvious steps to make sure you didn’t interact with Quaritch’s new puppet. And your lack of a response only confirmed Grace’s guess.

Really, there was no point in denying it. Grace knew you. And she knew Quaritch just as well as you did. She knew the tense relationship between you two, it was hard not to over the years of you being on Pandora. Which was one of the reasons why Grace had taken you under her wing, which was why you had always followed her around like a lost puppy in your first few years in Pandora. There was no hiding anything from Grace Augustine, especially when she decided to look after you when no one else would.

“And you think bringing everything up here, crowding my space…” Despite yourself, you glanced down at your project which was nearly finished. “How is this a good idea again—”

“We’re coming, Tinkers.” Grace said sternly. “You can stay cooped up in your lab all you want but we’re still coming, and kid, sorry but you’re going to have to deal with Sully’s presence whether you like it or not.”

She wasn’t wrong. Yes, your lab was connected to the mobile link station Site 26 which Grace and the others were free to use if they wanted. But this lab was your solitude, your own world of secrets.

You didn’t want Quaritch’s little spy anywhere near it.

“Meet you up there, kid.” Grace said before the radio went silent.

For a moment, you stared at Project Pandora. Then you got up and started cleaning up the desk you had been working at for the past few hours. Carefully, you placed the project in the cabinets beneath the desk and closed it, locking it with a padlock.

Perhaps you were being a bit paranoid but you couldn’t risk it. Hell, you couldn’t even risk Grace seeing it either. She’d try to talk you out of it if anything.

Hours had passed until the helicopter had arrived with Grace and the others. Despite your previous annoyance toward the new situation, you went out to greet them as they got off the helicopter.

“Hope you took care of the place since I left.” Grace commented as you fell into step side by side with her. “I’m not going to see a whole hoard of shit everywhere, will I, Tinkers?”

“I know how to clean my own shit.” You grumbled when stepping into the station. “If anything you’re more messy with me. Most of you shit is in there anyway.”

Grace rolled her eyes, setting her things down at an unoccupied desk. Norm trailed in, looking around with wide excited eyes. “So you’re telling me you’ve been staying up here in the Hallelujah Mountains for months now? How are you not amazed by this every day?”

You shrugged as the link beds were rolled in, “I guess you get used to the view every day.”

That wasn’t necessarily true. Still to this day you found yourself always amazed at where you were and how you often remembered that Earth was nothing compared to this. And that you didn’t miss the former planet one bit.

Norm shook his head in disbelief, “Have you ever explored more of this place?”

“On my own? No.” You found yourself chuckling self-deprecatingly. “Pandora may be beautiful but it's also dangerous, especially for those unskilled to handle it.”

As soon as you said that, Jake wheeled in. He took in his surroundings the same as Norm until your gazes connected. There was an unreadable expression on his face when he nodded toward you in acknowledgment, “Doc.”

“They haven’t killed you yet, I see.” You hummed, raising a single brow. “Can’t really tell if I’m impressed or disappointed.”

He gave a sarcastic smile, “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Doc. Have any more half assed advice for me?”

“Yeah, right up your—”

“Alright, kids.” Grace interrupted, glaring at the two of you. “If we’re all gonna be stuck here together for the next few months, we’re gonna have to suck it up and get along or else this whole thing is for nothing.”

You roll your eyes, before leaving to go back to your lab. That was your only place where it would be your solitude after. Seconds later your lab door opened and in came Grace who already wore a maternal stern look on her face upon looking at you slouched in your desk chair.

“Why are we even still working with him?” You hiss in Na’vi. “It’s like you said on the radio, you and I both know he’s working with Quaritch. We can’t trust him!”

“He will start learning their ways and they will accept him if we play this right, Tinkers. Think about it. Sully could be our chance to rebuild our relationship with them, to get them to trust us again.” Grace glanced over her shoulder at the now closed door before continuing. “And if it works maybe things will start to fall in place when it comes to Quaritch.”

You stood, shaking your head. “You have too much faith in him, Augustine. Whatever relationship you think we could salvage with them, it’s gone. They will never trust us again after what happened. And now letting him enter their clan as an outsider, lying to them, that is what you think is going to help?!”

Exhaustion fell onto her face as she placed her hands on her waist, switching to English. “You’re gonna have to trust me on this one, Tinkers. I need you to work with me here, I need you on my side.”

This was too reckless. All of it. And no matter what you did to stay out of it, somehow you were always dragged back into it. You were always hurt again. You didn’t want to be hurt. You didn’t want what happened last time to happen again. Not to the Na’vi. Hell, not to Grace. You can’t stand seeing her heart broken after what had happened again.

“He is not on our side.” You whispered, pointing to the door.

Grace did not respond and the conversation soon ended when Norm called for her. Before leaving your lab she gave you one final stern look, “Play nice. This place is about to be stuffy, kid.”

The first couple of weeks, you mostly kept to yourself in your lab, working on your project, video logging for yourself, or just other smaller projects. Just to keep yourself distracted and away from the main station. When you did come out of your lab, you’d mostly speak to Grace and Norm and kept your interactions with Jake to a minimum. Which most of the time included snarky remarks and or cursing at each other.

“She keeps calling me, skxawng.” Jake muttered one day while eating his breakfast before he’d hop into the link unit as usual. During his stay here, you had learned that Jake had met Neytiri, the Omatikaya clan leader’s daughter. You recognized the name mostly because you had met her in the past, her and her mother Mo’at, the Tsahik of the clan. It had been a while since you had seen either of them. “What does it even mean?”

“Moron.” You muttered, eating some of your yogurt.

“Yeah, right back at you, little shit.” Jake retorted.

Norm shook his head, hiding an amused snort behind his bowl of breakfast. You turned to Jake and raised your brows, “Skxawng, means moron, asshat. Though it’s pretty fitting for you, don’t you think?”

“Bite me.”

“Very mature.”

“Both of you sound like children!” Grace snapped from her spot at the desk in the corner. “For god’s sake, you’re adults! Act like it!”

“Tell that to her.” Jake commented.

You flipped him off.

But as time went by, you can admit that Jake was making bits of progress when it came to integrating into the Omatikaya. Some days, when you wanted a break from spending so much time in the lab, you’d be sitting on one of the cots watching Norm struggling to teach Jake the language and get easily frustrated at his slow learning.

“Oel ngati kameie.” Norm repeated for what sounded like the hundredth time that evening. “I see you. You almost had it on the ninetieth try.”

“Fuck off.” Jake rolled his eyes. “Oel ngati—”

“No, no, no!” Norm grumbled while you hid a smile behind the book you were reading.

“I’m saying exactly what you’re saying right now!”

“No you’re not—you know what?” Norm breathed out a sigh before pushing away from the table he was at, “Let’s take a really, really long break, yeah?” You watched as Norm exhaustedly rubbed his face and left the room, mumbling to himself in frustration.

Jake huffed and went quiet for a while. Right now it was just the two of you sitting in the room. You made no move to say or do anything, mostly just kept to yourself like you had been for the past week. While reading, you heard him start to mumble the same phrase over and over again, though his pronunciation was wrong each time.

And despite wanting to ignore him, your need to correct him eventually won.

“You really do have a thick skull, huh?” You commented. Jake turned his wheelchair away from you, pettily ignoring you. “You're sooo funny. Apologies for trying to help.”

“And since when have you ever tried to help me?” Jake snorted, glaring at you over his shoulder.

“Did you not watch the videos I sent you?”

“Fuck off.”

A small, amused smile tugged at your lip before you closed your book. “Quaritch did tell you to listen to me, make sure you survive and whatnot. Or are you not taking orders from him anymore?”

Jake didn't reply right away, instead he turned his chair so that he was facing you again, studying you with an unreadable expression. “You hate him.”

You scoffed, “Great job, Sherlock.”

Jake tilted his head, giving you a look, “He’s mentioned you a few times. Asks about you.”

Not really wanting to hear any of this, you got up and grabbed your book. “We’re definitely not having this conversation, especially not with you of all people.”

“Okay, then make something clear to me.” Jake called, rolling after you. “I don’t get it. He acts like the two of you are close and treats you like a family. And then there’s you, you can’t even stand to be in the same room with him.”

Now you were scowling and turned back to him, “Yes and it’s been a pretty great relationship so far. What’s your point, Puppet?”

He frowned at the nickname but continued, “It’s because of the school, isn’t it?”

That, you hadn’t expected. Really, you didn’t even know that he knew about that. Then again, Grace might’ve told him at some point. Still, the question threw you off. Enough that Jake could read the expression on your face, which confirmed his question without you having to say anything.

“I, uh, noticed the pictures with you and Grace’s avatars, with the kids.” Jake continued but a lot more carefully than before. “Grace told me about, um, Sylwanin and the other kids that died.” You winced terribly, barely able to hide it as you turned your gaze away from him. It had been awhile, no, a couple of years at least since it first happened.

You just never bothered talking about it again, never bothering to go back into your avatar form unless you absolutely needed to. Those deaths had weighed down on your shoulders forever.

Jake was still watching you as he spoke, “You blame him.”

“They were on his orders.” Was what you said, willing your voice to remain firm. Crossing your arms, you continued through gritted teeth, “If he ever thought of me as family he wouldn’t have allowed that to happen that day. Those were my friends he had gunned down.” You turn to look at Jake, frowning. “Could you forgive that?”

Surprisingly, his response was immediate. “No.”

Quietly, you watched him the same as he did you. And then you stopped, not wanting to read into anything more. Not wanting to discover anything more despite the growing doubt settling in as this conversation kept going.

“What else has he said?” You found yourself asking after a while, quietly. This now surprised Jake. “About me?”

Now it was his turn to look away from you for a moment before shrugging, “Says you guys used to be close, practically an uncle to you or something, I don’t remember.”

You nod, not protesting that. Despite everything, that was true. Your parents were both dead. Quaritch had known them both and you since you were young. He was a family friend. An uncle. The only person that cared for you that was left in this world.

And with everything that had happened between you two, that’s what broke your heart the most. No matter what, he was the last one left for you.

You walked toward the door to your lab but stopped before glancing over your shoulder toward Jake.

“It’s oel ngati kameie.” You pronounced slowly, doing the hand movement along with it. “You’ll get it at some point.”

“Wait!” Just as you opened the door, Jake had wheeled closer. “The way you say it, it’s different from how Norm did it.”

You shrugged, “Norm’s a bit too formal with his translations. Spend a little time with the Na’vi and listen to how they communicate with each other, that’s when you start to sound like them.”

Jake grinned a bit, “Why don’t you teach me? Call it a truce, you and I. Let’s make this work, yeah?”

“I don’t know.” You hummed stepping into your lab. “I still don’t like you very much.”

He raised a brow, a smirk on his lips, “You’re warming up to me though.”

“In your dreams, Puppet.”

“Video log, 100-something…I don’t know but I miss you guys.”

You say quietly to the camera. It was around night time in Pandora. The other should’ve been fast asleep by now or Jake was still in the link bed, parading around the forest with his avatar.

“It’s been a few months…since I’ve logged in, I think. I know I should be keeping up with them. And it’s been five years today since you guys left…Mom, I’ve improved and kept your work going. Hopefully I’ve done you justice…you know…I can’t exactly replace you. Your brilliance…everyone looks to me now that you’re gone…I don’t know how to feel about that. I’m not ready for it-I really don’t understand how these people think I could live up to you….”

There was a muffled sound outside of your lab. Someone was probably moving around. Whoever it was, you waited for a few seconds before you didn’t hear anymore thuds. You turned back to the camera.

“I think it was a mistake leaving me to Quaritch…and I know he’s one of your oldest friends Dad, but…this isn’t working anymore. Pandora has really shown me the truth. Something I was too naïve to notice before…but now that I do know the truth, I’m not sure….I’m not sure if I was ready for it…”

Knowing that these videos were being watched by the higher ups, you decided to cut the camera off before the tears came. The last thing you wanted was for them to see your vulnerability. To see how much their mission practically broke you. They wouldn’t have cared anyway. But it was embarrassing to imagine either way.

All you knew was that you never wanted them to ever see you cry. You would not grant them this.

The last thing they would see of you was not tears. No.

It would be a grin made of gasoline. And the fire you started in your wake.

Norm and Jake were arguing. You didn’t know what about but if you had to guess, it was probably Norm getting frustrated with Jake while he was supposed to be helping him with the language. And you were betting Jake was responding back like the smartass he was.

It wasn’t long before Grace jumped in to scold them like a parent. Now it would’ve been entertaining to listen to the three of them go at it, but they’re dumb fight was distracting you from your work, which was in itself a sin.

When the fighting never ceased, you gave up with the work you attempted to refocus on and stomped out of your lab. Outside of it, Jake and Norm were back at the small table in the corner going at it while Grace scowled and snapped at them from her spot across from them.

“—it’s like you’re trying to be dumb on purpose! How can you not get this?!” Norm snapped.

Jake scowled, “Kind of hard to listen to you when you’re talking out of your ass!”

“My god! Am I just surrounded by children these days? What the hell is wrong with you two?!” Grace glared at them.

You stood to the side and watched as they fought, both annoyed and intrigued.

Norm suddenly stood up, “You know, I don’t get it. I’ve studied and prepared myself for this for several years and he gets this chance in one go, why? What the hell has he done to even earn his place here?!”

“Spellman—” Grace sighed.

“So you're jealous?” Jake smirked, leaning back in his chair. “What, mad that I got the chief’s daughter and you got horseshit?”

You could tell Jake was just trying to get a rise out of Norm and the latter took the bait easily, “I deserve to be out there. I fucking speak the language—”

“Quaritch chose him.” Grace said simply, growing tired of the fight. “There’s nothing we could do to change that. And complaining about it sure as hell isn’t going to solve anything.” She then looked at you with a frown and spoke in Na’vi, “Are you just gonna stand there or are you going to add anything to this conversation?”

You shrugged indifferently, “You seem to have a handle on things.”

“Would the two of you stop that!” Norm snapped exasperatedly. “I can understand you! You’re not being secretive by talking in another language I know!”

Grace frowned, “Nobody said anything about being secretive, Spellman. Take a deep breath, alright? Yes, you are good at the language, which is why I need you to help Jake out here.”

Norm glared at Jake. Jake glared back, raising his brows provocatively.

You rolled your eyes before smacking Norm’s arm, “Go. I’ll take over.”

Grace raised his brows while Jake stared at you curiously and another expression you couldn’t make out. “You sure, Tinkers?”

“If it’ll get the two of these idiots to stop arguing, yeah, I’m sure.” You say, replacing the seat Norm had been sitting in before.

Norm scoffed, “Whatever.” He disappeared in the back.

“Let’s see here.” You say, looking at the notes that Norm had scribbled down. “Eywa ngahu.”

“What, no hello?” Jake grinned at you.

“Eywa ngahu.” You repeated sternly.

Jake rolled his eyes, “Eywa ngahu.”

“Good, good.” You nodded before glancing down at the papers, “Jesus, what is this handwriting?”

Jake leaned forward to get a better look at it, a little too close for your liking. He pointed to one of the phases, “Oel ngati kameie. I see you, right?”

You nodded while Grace from her corner of the room narrowed her eyes at him, “Just a few minutes ago you were struggling with it when Norm was teaching you.”

Jake shrugged innocently, “I guess I learn fast.”

“Bullshit.” Grace scoffed. She glanced from you to Jake with a strange yet knowing look before shaking her head and going back to work. Muttering under her breath, “Idiots…”

Now it was your turn to narrow your eyes at him. Jake just continued to stare at you innocently. You glanced back down at the papers noticing the red marks next to some of the phrases.

“Those were the ones we were gonna come back to.” Jake pointed out when he saw the question practically forming on your face. “They were the ones I struggled with the most.”

“Mmm.” You said for a moment. “Let’s go down the list. Ngaru lu fpom srak.”

“Ngaru lu fpom srak.”

“Fyape syaw fko ngar?”

“Jake Sully.”

You blink and Grace makes a sound that was suspiciously close to a snort. “You understood what I said?”

Jake nodded, “Yeah, it was a lot clearer when you said it.”

Bullshit. You pushed the papers away and leaned back in your chair, “Jake, were you purposefully acting obtuse just to get rid of Norm? Because if you were, that has got to be the most idiotic shit I’ve ever witnessed.”

In the corner of your eye, you could see Grace sneaking a look toward the two of you, waiting for a response.

“It’s not idiotic if it worked.” Jake winked, leaning forward on the table.

You shook your head in disbelief. And despite yourself a smile grew on your lips, “You’re such an asshole, Puppet.”

“I know. But you’re still here.”

“Shut up.”

taglist: @luvvfromme @sully-stick-together @dazedshoon @jakesullylvr @s-u-t @erenjaegerwifee @ssc7514 @cheari

#to you worlds away #avatar jake sully x reader #avatar jake sully #jake sully x reader #avatar way of water #avatar jake #jake sully #avatar 2 #avatar the way of water #jake sully fic #atwow

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mshroom1e · 1 year

Note

Hiiiii!!! Could I request something for Jamil? This one's probably considered crack and fluff but I'm not too sure.

So, reader (who's a female unless you only gender neutral s/o's) is the opposite of our boy Jamil; goofy, dorky, silly, snarky, lazy, and an overall bumbling idiot. Jamil is sure that someone like her can't be successful in life because she's so incompetent and playful (basically if Leona and Kalim had a kid, lol), there's absolutely no way she will ever surpass him-or anyone really- in anything. Or so he thought.

One day, Crewel asks her a rather difficult question that not even Jamil knows. So, imagine his shock when reader answers correctly. But, that's just dumb luck. Right?Nope! Kalim was throwing one of his parties and Jamil offers to cook the food only for the precious sunshine boy to reveal that reader's already got it covered. Cue reader and some other Scarabia students walking out of the kitchen with plates of delicious food. From then on, Jamil would get upstaged by reader everytime which made him jealous. Until, something happened that changed everything.

It was Jamil's birthday and he wasn't expecting much. Only to get a letter from reader asking him to come to Scarabia at night. He's confused but complies. When he gets there, all the lights are off. Now he's more confused and irritated, believing it to be some prank.

That's when the lights turn on and everyone including reader yells "Surprise!". On the table, laid all his favorite dishes made by reader herself. She also gives him a present, a pair of headphones she teamed up with the Shroud brothers to make for him.

Needless to say, Jamil is touched and has to stop himself from crying.

Heya! Thank you so much for the request!! Apologies in advance for any ooc Jamil moments since I'm still getting used to writing him into fics. I also made reader/Yuu a second year for story purposes. Thanks for bearing with me!

5 to 1 | Jamil x GN! Reader

type: fanfic

Summary: Jamil is constantly being one upped by none other than Yuu themselves. One day, he finds a little box sitting at his desk, and his curiously gets the better of him

3.5k words

Warning(s): none

Angry? No way. How could he possibly be angry? Jamil Viper, someone who was known for his levelheadedness and cool temper, there was no way he could ever be losing his head over anything. Nothing at all! Even thinking he was capable of blowing up in a fit of rage was preposterous.

If that was true, then why was he sitting in his room at 4 in the morning seething, clenching his fists, and staring at his homework? The bags under his bloodshot eyes were large enough to carry all of- no, double of Kalim's luggage when going on an overnight trip.

Well, it was all because of you.

Ever since you enrolled at NRC, through what Jamil at first assumed was some sort of loophole in the system, or as they say, a glitch in the matrix, he believed you were an absolute airhead. From your first year, you were in almost all of the same classes, and you were so- incapable. For example, there was one time when you were partnered up with Jamil for an alchemy lesson, and you accidentally turned half of the class into dogs for a week. Professor Crewel usually referred to his students as rambunctious puppies, but he never actually wished that they would turn into that.

Your path in that school was always followed by chaos, explosions, and magical mayhem.

Jamil loved you. Don't get him wrong. If he didn't, why else would he be dating you? It was just that your prescence always found a way to tickle his brain in the wrong way, and he got even angrier at himself each time for how deeper and deeper he fell in love with you. It was beyond him how he ended up dating you with your goofy, dorky, silly, snarky, lazy, idiot personality. Maybe it was your brutal honesty or the fact that Jamil was able to be his natural blunt self around you, and you never seemed to get offended or hurt by it. He was never like that to anyone except Kalim, of course, but that's different.

So, back to what Jamil was currently doing. As an end of topic assignment, Professor Trein asked for a 15-page essay on all the topics that your class had done on the history of magic. You were given 2 months to complete it. So, it was reasonable when Jamil, the professor and the entire of the class were absolutely diabolically flabbergasted after you turned in a 30 page essay a week after the assessment was given, like it was no trouble at all.

Jamil, personally, wasn't having it. There was no way he would let you surpass him like that in all your idiotic glory.

The next morning, Jamil arrived in alchemy class looking like he had just been through it all. His hair looked rough and dishevelled, the hoodie he wore under his blazer was inside out, and he wore the wrong shoes on each foot. The ten minutes of free time before class started was mainly you poking fun at Jamil, half teasing and half genuinely worried.

You shrugged when he told you everything was fine while he grumbled under his breath, deciding not to pry any further. You'd just have to pester him after class was over.

Today's lesson was one on theory. Crewel would teach the class some new alchemy related material while everyone took notes, well except you. You spent most of class time almost falling asleep, yawning, and nudging Jamil with your elbow. Normally, he would've made a snarky comment at you that would make you return it with an even snarkier reply, but he didn't have enough energy for your shenanigans at the moment.

You nearly jumped out of your own skeleton once the professor called you out and asked you to complete the chemical equation on the board. It was one of the most difficult to answer, as the names of the missing reactants were practically impossible to memorise.

"Oh, It's Ornithogalum adseptentrionesvergentulum and Parastratiosphecomyia stratiosphecomyioides," you answered without missing a beat.

"Colour me impressed," Crewel was pleasantly surprised, "But make sure you pay attention. I have no need for any unfocused pups in my classroom."

Jamil's eyes practically bulged out of his head. He had to blink twice before rendering what you said into his mind. He couldn't believe it even for a second. He was sure you weren't even paying attention the entire lecture, talkless of even memorising something that Crewel mentioned over half an hour ago. Even he had no idea what the answer was, so how on earth did you manage to answer it so easily? Surely it was just an odd stroke of luck, right?

"Rodger that, sir," you said smoothly. Crewel gave you a stern glance and continued on with the lesson.

Little did Jamil know, that was only the beginning of your win streak against him.

Recess was upon you at last, and you went to doing one of your favourite activities. Annoying Jamil. He was off 'babysitting Kalim' duty, as you liked to call it, since he was busy with club activities and Jamil could finally have some downtime. Well, if you don't count, you bugging him every other second.

"Your hair looks kinda messy. Didn't get enough sleep?" You suddenly said, making Jamil glance at you from the side.

He hummed.

Little did you know, you were the primary reason for him losing so much sleep.

"Want me to do it for you?" You asked, "You know, I'm nothing short of a pro hair stylist myself," You were definitely lying.

Surprisingly, he didn't take much convincing to eventually agree. Usually, he never let you lay even a finger on his hair, but today, he really couldn't be bothered.

You stood up from the bench, moving to stand behind him so you could do your magic on his hair.

To be completely honest, you had no idea what you were actually doing. You had seen Jamil do his hair about one time, so you decided to just go from what you saw then. First you parted the left side of his hair into three, then you begain braiding the three different parts in cornrows, added the three gold accessories you may or may not have stolen from his room, and boom, you were done.

"Done!"

Well, that was quick.

You summoned a mirror for Jamil to look at the final product of your work. Needless to say he was flabbergasted.

There was no way you just did his signature hairstyle a million times better than he did. The braids were even in swirly patterns for fs sake. Jamil wasn't going to lie to himself and say he wasn't jealous of your effortless skill.

For the rest of the day, Jamil unconsciously got slightly ticked off when seeing his reflection in the mirror.

You: 2

Jamil: 0

A few days later, you followed Jamil to club practice because, why not?

The basketball club was in the middle of a practice game, and you just spent most of the time admiring how cool Jamil looked.

A club member tossed a basketball at you and asked if you wanted to join. You didn't mind playing in uniform since it was already the end of the day anyway, so you agreed.

You lazily tossed the ball from where you sat in the bleachers at one of the nets and it went straight in with a satisfying swoop. Impressed, but more shocked, Jamil turned to you, eyebrows raised with shock, and you gave him a lazy smirk.

You: 3

Jamil: 0

Here came Coach Vargas' gym class. The worst nightmare of the Ignihyde dorm and the bane of most students' existence.

It was quite early in the year, so the coach decided on strength tests to see where everyone was currently at. He planned several activities for the whole class to do, most of them having little rules except the obvious 'NO MAGIC'.

First up was a simple ball toss. All you had to do was simply throw the ball as far as you could. Piece of cake.

When it was your turn, you picked up a ball and stood in the circle where you were to throw it from. You simply did a light stretch of your arm muscles and rolled your shoulders.

Without much effort, you drew your arm back and away the ball went. Jamil felt a gust of wind blow his hair back as the ball left your hand. It was less than a second before the poor ball was sent into the clouds and never to be seen again. Okay, maybe that was an exaggeration, but the ball did go really far.

Vargas laughed heartily in amusement once your score came up on the tablet in his hands. A neon-coloured "87 metres" flashed on the screen, reminding Jamil that you really did throw the ball that far.

You: 4

Jamil: 0

The rest of the gym lesson was just you beating poor Jamil at everything under the sun. In the short distance race, you practically bolted to the finish line, leaving Jamil in your dust, lifted almost 3 times as much as he could in the weight training, and cleared the sandpit in a single long jump test.

Needless to say, he was exhausted, both physically and mentally. Jamil couldn't help but make everything with you into a one-sided competition, which always resulted in him getting defeated by a landslide. But to be honest, he didn't mind losing because, when he entered his little contests with you, he was always trying his best.

"Jamil! We're having a party!"

"HUH?!"

Begrudgingly, Jamil followed Kalim into the common room of the Scarabia dorm. He mentally groaned, complaining to himself about never being able to catch a break. His lovely dorm leader usually threw his celebrations on a whim, unintentionally inconveniencing Jamil as he would be forced to make food for the guests to eat.

He had already started making a list of his chores to prepare the party in his head, not really paying attention to where the white-haired ball of sunshine was leading him to.

Eventually, the duo reached the kitchen, and Jamil's nose picked up a delicious scent coming from beyond the door. He wasn't sure what it was, but he was sure its scent alone rivalled his very own cooking.

Kalim pushed the door open with a smile on his face, revealing you, placing the final touches on a plate.

"Yuu offered to make the snacks so you didn't have to!" Kalim piped in.

"Oh, and, don't worry about the food being poisoned. I tasted everything in front of Kalim, so it's all safe," You added, "No need to thank me."

You glanced at Jamil and returned his stunned expression with a lazy smirk. Even in his own job he'd been assigned to from childhood, you still managed to one up him.

"Oh..." was all be could say.

"Wanna try some?" You picked up a piece of food and held it up to Jamil's mouth, "It tastes really good."

By this time, Kalim had already waddled off to wonder somewhere else in the dorm, leaving just you and Jamil in the kitchen.

It didn't take more than two seconds for Jamil to comply and open his mouth, allowing you to place the food inside it. You watched him expectantly as he slowly chewed, carefully savouring the flavour.

He was right. It definitely tasted better than his cooking. The flavours felt like they were dancing over and around his taste buds, exploding little delicious fireworks in his mouth. But he was too petty to admit that.

"Tastes good," He said with a relatively straight face compared to the thoughts swimming around in his head, screaming at him to compliment the taste more. He was definitely too petty for that.

You and your stupidly good cooking.

You: 5

Jamil: 0

Over the next few days, school continued as normal, well, as normal as it could be in a school like NRC.

Class was just about wrapped up for the day, students standing around, chatting, and not doing much else. Jamil entered the classroom after stepping out for a few minutes.

Someone had come to get him, claiming someone else wanted to talk to him about something. For a matter with a lot of 'someones' and 'somethings', there really was nothing. The person eventually never showed up, and Jamil shrugged and returned to his class to collect his belongings and retire for the day.

At his desk was a light orange gift box tied shut with a muted red bow. Jamil raised an eyebrow, glaning to the student in the desk next to his, wordlessly asking if they knew anything about it. They shrugged as if saying 'no', making Jamil even more perplexed.

He lifted the box, hoping it wasn't just some elaborate prank. He then shook it.

It was... empty?

Or so he thought.

Jamil opened the box, wary, half expecting something to pop out or explode in his face. His confusion grew as a letter sat at the bottom of the hollow cube, with the name 'Jamil' written in cursive. As far as he knew, he hadn't seen anyone with this type of writing before, so he couldn't narrow down the mystery gift giver.

He hastily opened the envelope to reveal a short letter written with what looked like a riddle.

'I see you have found my surprise, friend.

I hope you see this hunt to its end,

Your first prize lies at a location known well,

A place with goods, magic to sell,

Find this place, and then there will lie your next clue.'

He blinked.

What?

He read the note again to make sure he wasn't dreaming. At first, he planned to leave the note where it was and continue with his day, but as they say, curiosity killed the cat. Pocketing the letter, he set off to complete the silly mission.

Jamil arrived at the school store, a place fitting that description. On a bench in front of the store sat yet another light orange box that stuck out like a sore thumb. This time, with a matching orange bow.

Noticing the box right away, Jamil untied the ribbon and opened it, revealing another letter. He repeated his previous actions with the box and read the letter.

'I see you have discovered my second clue.

Worry not. This search will be brief.

You have one more clue after this one.

A castle made out of glass

Accompanied by plants few of them grass

Flowers and magical floras galore

But tending to them is kind of a chore'

It didn't take long for this clue to click in Jamil's head. The only place fitting that description was the botanical gardens, so off he went.

A few students lingered around the garden, some taking care of their plants whole others rested on benches and chattered.

There was a light tap on Jamil's shoulder, causing him to glance behind him. A cloaked figure held out another orange box to him, which was accompanied by a yellow ribbon. As soon as he picked the box from the mystery person's hands, they wordlessly walked away. Jamil spotted a lock of lavender hair peeking out of the hood and raised his eyebrow.

He shook his head with an airy laugh and opened the new box.

A letter, like usual.

'Your search will soon be over,

Go to a dorm where you reside,

You will find a surprise waiting inside.'

The clue was a little confusing but nothing that Jamil couldn't eventually figure out. The only place on campus that fitted the description was, of course, his dorm, Scarabia.

Jamil ventured to the mirror chamber and eventually to the given location, arms full of orange boxes that he decided to take with him for some reason. A string of glowing green lights illuminated the usual path to the entrance of the dorm in a long line, as if forging a path.

Eventually, he was led to the dorm's common room. The room was dark and as silent as a desert. 'That's it?' he thought, confused and slightly irritated at the time he spent on the hunt.

Jamil heared a quiet chuckle from somewhere close before he was bombarded with a sudden:

"SURPRISE!!"

His eyes widened, and he physically jumped back, ears attacked by the noise, and eyes suddenly ambushed with a flush of light. Poppers exploding with confetti ereupted all around him, a large banner saying "Happy Birthday, Jamil!!" above his head. His nerves only relaxed once he noticed you standing in front of him with a lazy grin on your face, surrounded by your classmates and some students from other years.

"Happy Birthday," You said in your usual calm, yet snarky voice.

The common room was decorated like it would be during one of Kalim's parties, however the banner had his name written on it in bold, sparkly letters, reminding him that he was the one who was being celebrated. His favourite dishes were all laid out on the table, cooked by none other than yourself.

He felt his eyes become wet but quickly blinked away whatever was forming in them before he could lose his composure.

Kalim practically hopped over to him with a huge smile on his face, "It was Yuu's idea to put this all together for you!"

Jamil turned to you, stunned, again. You returned his look with a genuine smile this time, though, instead of your default snarky smirk.

"Happy Birthday, Sea Snake," Floyd lazily strung his arm around Jamil's shoulder.

You invited almost everyone you and Jamil knew, and even a few third years. Jamil even saw a few members from the Diasomnia (hence the green fireflies) and Ignihyde dorms, surprised that you even managed to convince them to come.

After all greeting Jamil with birthday wishes and a few gifts here and there, you wisked him to a balcony, wanting to give him your gift in a quieter setting.

Gentle gusts of wind playfully tousled Jamil's long locks of hair as they glistened in the moonlight. He was still speechless.

"You- You did all this?" Jamil asked in a low voice, staring directly into your eyes.

"Well, I got a lot of help from everyone, but it was mainly my idea," You rubbed the back of your neck and stared at the ground, your face growing warm in an unusual flush of nervousness.

"I..." Jamil tried to say something, anything, but he wasn't sure what to say. Should he thank you? Should he just hug you? He wasn't sure. The only thing he could utter for now was, "Why? Why all this for me?"

Your eyes darted back at him, surprised. You knew he wasn't the most self-assured person ever, but it was still a little shocking to see him being so self-critical.

"Jamil-" You started, "You don't understand how much you need to be celebrated? Do you?"

You tried to play it off with your snarky demeanor but this time, you just couldn't.

"But I'm nothing special," He retorted.

"Oh, come on," you sighed, "You're literally the most special person to me, like ever."

You placed your gift on a nearby table and put both of your hands on his shoulders, holding him in place as you said what you wanted to say.

"You're smart, talented, a great cook, beautiful-"

"But you surpass me in almost everything," He cut you off, stepping back.

"That's because I- I'm always trying extra hard to impress you!" You blurted out, immediately slapping your hands over your mouth.

"You what...?"

"You're so good at everything yet you don't try to stand out, and I thought if I tried hard to impress you, you'd want to show off your talents more since I know you're so competitive."

Wow.

You seriously read him like an open book.

Jamil looked at you with a teasing smirk. Usually, it was you that had the snarky attitude. Oh, how the tables have turned.

"Dang it." You turned your head to the side and furrowed your brows.

"What about what you wanted to give me?" Jamil folded his arms with a light smile.

"Oh, yeah."

You picked up the box and pushed it in front of you, towards Jamil, sheepishly avoiding his eyes as he opened it. He pulled out a smaller box that was covered with a familiar neon blue.

"They're a pair of headphones I made for you myself, well with the help of the Shroud brothers, but I came up with the design myself, and the patterns reminded me of you so-"

A spark went off in Jamil's charcoal grey eyes as he cut you off with a swift kiss, his hands placing the box down on the outdoor table and reaching to hold yours. Murmurs from the party at the other side of the wall were reduced to background noise as your senses were suddenly occupied. His rich, floral scent filled your nose as he gently leaned into the kiss, causing you to fluster.

This time, he was the one who caught you off guard.

You: 5

Jamil: 1

#gn reader #twisted wonderland #twst fanfic #twst x reader #twst idia #twst jamil #jamil x yuu #jamil fluff #jamil viper #twst kalim #twisted wonderland x reader #floyd leech #fanfic #twst fic #divus crewel #twst crewel

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thetargaryenbride · 1 year

Text

Nail To The Coffin - S2 - Chapter 3

Warnings: brief mention of weed

Pairing: Steve Harrington x f!Byers!Reader

Word Count: 5197

↬ “I don’t want to see you crying over me, ok?” asked Eddie as he lifted his eyebrows and pinched your cheek lightly, making you close your eyes as you let a breathy laugh escape your nose.

“I’m not making any promises.”

This one ↟↟↟….is not going to age well when we reach season 4 :’D…unless…

A.N: This is sort of a…bittersweet chapter. Beware. As always, please do make me know if I’ve written certain characters OOC and if you think there is something that can be corrected within the story. Thank you for reading. Hope you like it! 🖤 🥀

Masterlist || Chapter 2 || Chapter 4

Two months ago…

“Hopper?” you asked once you opened the front door and saw the man standing there, hat in his hands as he fiddled with it for a while before placing it back on his head.

“Hey, kid. I heard you just got back home and uh…I know you probably want to be with your family but I need your help with something. You think you can spare me some time?” he asked and you nodded.

“Of course! It’s no problem at all!”

You quickly followed him into his car and the two headed off down an unfamiliar road. You wondered what was it that he needed help with and then suddenly he stopped the car.

“I need to tell you something,” he spoke after a minute of silence and you arched a curious eyebrow.

And then he told you how he found Eleven in the woods months ago – around Christmas. He told you how he brought her to his grandfather’s cabin, set traps and everything in order to make the place more secure, and how he’s been hiding her from everyone because he was trying to work out a loophole and find a way to get her off the scientists’ radar. You were quiet the whole time he was speaking, trying to be understanding of the whole situation until you remembered how Mike, Dustin, and Lucas had been utterly heartbroken back when they believed she had died in order to protect them.

How utterly heartbroken you had been when they delivered the news to you after you had asked why Eleven didn’t come to visit you at the hospital.

And the last straw snapped.

“I cannot believe you!” you raised your voice. “You-you kept this girl locked for almost ten months? What is wrong with you!?” you waved your hands.

“What do you want to do exactly, huh!? Let her go out there and risk her being seen by those jackasses?!” he shouted back. “They are everywhere! They are like-like the goddamn plague!” he hit the wheel, making you flinch. He opened and closed his mouth, not knowing if he should apologize for startling you, and opted to run a hand down his face while you let out a huff as you rubbed your temples.

You had to admit he had a point.

“All right, but…at least you should’ve told us about it! We’ve been dead worried, you know? Especially Mike! The kid’s going nuts wondering if she’s dead or still alive somewhere out there!” you snapped and he sighed.

“Yeah, I can’t risk telling the others! Someone is just…bound to open their big mouth at one point and let it slip!” he countered. “I’m gonna tell them… just not now.”

“Then why did you tell me!?” you asked incredulously.

“Because you’re mature enough not to speak openly about her and control yourself!” he bit back. “And because…because I need your help, ok? There are some things that only a woman can talk about. She needs a female presence in her life,” he grumbled and you did a double take.

“I’m sorry? Do you mean… like, a period talk or something?” you bit the inside of your mouth as you tried to suppress a smile from breaking out and he sputtered, fidgeting a bit in his seat.

“Yeah, for one.”

“Why not tell my mom then?”

“Because she’s an adult and Eleven doesn’t know her. You are closer to her age so she’ll feel more comfortable and…she knows you. She trusts you. Whenever she speaks of wanting to see someone, she mentions mostly you and Mike,” he explained and a sad smile graced your features as the two of you sat in silence for a minute.

“Of course, I’m going to help, old man,” you reassured him at last and he let out a relieved sigh. “But you have to promise that you’ll find a way to fix this, ok? She cannot stay locked up inside forever.”

“Of course…I’m working on it, kid… I’m working on it.”

Sunrays peeked through the blinds on the windows, hitting your face and making you groan as you tried to escape them. You snuggled into something warm and it helped to some extent. But then you came to the sudden realization that this warm thing was not a soft blanket.

It was solid.

And breathing.

Your eyes snapped open as you shot up in bed, looking frantically around you. You let out a choked gasp when Eddie’s sleeping form entered your vision. The bouncing of the mattress jerked the boy out of his sleep and not long after, his eyes were fluttering open and focusing on you.

The two of you stared at each other for a while before awkwardness began creeping into the atmosphere and you cleared your throat, slowly slithering out of the bed.

“I, uh, I’m sorry. I think…I think I passed out after stupidly mixing up weed and alcohol,” you gave him an awkward smile and his lip twitched as he let out a quiet laugh through his nose.

“Yeah, no, I gotcha. It’s ok,” he spoke groggily as he sat up. “Happens to the best of us,” he scratched the back of his head, running his hands through his hair and mussing it up a bit.

“Uhm, I’ll just…I’ll go take a shower and then I’ll make some breakfast,” you informed him with a tight smile and he nodded after which you grabbed a towel and headed for the bathroom.

You cursed silently as you got rid of your Halloween costume that was now all wrinkled and smelled of weed and quickly got under the shower, the warm water feeling refreshing as it cleansed your body from any filth and smell.

Last night, Eddie dragged you away from the party after the little incident with Tommy and brought you to his trailer where the two of you listened to rock and metal, he played guitar and taught you some tunes, you drank beer, and smoked some weed. You remembered falling into a depressive episode at one point and discarding all and any alcohol. You had been on the verge of crying when Eddie had reassured you that you were nothing like your father. He had hugged you and spoken to you and then you blacked out in his arms only to wake up…in his arms.

“Gosh, this is so embarrassing,” you muttered as you wrapped a towel around you and began brushing your teeth with the spare toothbrush Eddie always kept for you.

“Uh, hey, I got some clothes for you,” came Eddie’s voice from the other side of the door. “I’ve a spare pair of jeans…uh, clean underwear from the bag of spare clothes you left a couple of months ago,” he stuttered and cleared his throat. “A-and uh, a brand new t-shirt.”

“Thank you so much. You’re a life savior,” you opened the door just a bit so he could shove the clothes through and you grabbed them.

You carefully rubbed off any dampness with the towel before discarding it and throwing on your underwear and jeans. But when you unfolded the t-shirt, your eyes widened when they fell onto the familiar design Eddie had scribbled some time ago.

Hellfire.

You let out a gasp as you swung open the door and went into his bedroom.

“You did it!” you let out a squeal as you held the t-shirt in front of you, grabbing his attention and making him grin. “You printed it!”

“Well, it’s nothing too special, I mean, it’s just a white and black t-shirt with the print on it,” he rubbed the back of his head but you shook your head, giving him a proud smile.

“No way! I think it’s amazing! And the design is so cool! I’m just happy that you achieved what you wanted and finally founded the club!” you waved your arms subconsciously before dropping them down and his eyes widened comically as he sputtered and frantically tried looking anywhere but at you, making you scrunch up your eyebrows before realization hit you.

“Shit! Sorry! Uh…just, hol-hold on a second,” you stuttered as you hastily put on the t-shirt and straightened it up. “Ok! You can look now!” you let out a sharp exhale and he cleared his throat before obliging. “I’m really sorry,” you gave him an apologetic smile and he laughed breathily.

“N-no, it’s…it’s ok.”

“You can use the bathroom now. I’ll go make breakfast in the meantime,” you gave him one last smile before you headed for the kitchen, shutting your eyes and biting your lip in embarrassment as you walked briskly.

Eddie let out a quiet groan as he watched you walk away, his hands flying to cup his face as he whispered a ‘Fuck’ before he rubbed his face in frustration and rushed to the bathroom so he could take a cold shower.

“So, uh…I made French toast with jam and scrambled eggs with bacon. It’s not much but it’s some fuel,” you told him once you heard his footsteps get closer, back still turned on him because you didn’t have the courage to face him yet.

He leaned on the doorframe, taking in the sight in front of him, eyes softening and filling with love and admiration but these emotions were quickly squashed by contemplation and hesitation.

“Sounds great, though,” he finally spoke, trying to keep his usual attitude, as he kicked his feet off and walked towards the table, plopping down on a chair. You let out a sigh at his typical, joyous tone, the awkwardness dispersing a bit and you finally turned around to face him.

You gave him a smile as you put some food on his plate and then on yours. You put the pan in the sink and joined him as he began digging in.

“I have something to tell you, by the way…I wanted to do it yesterday but…I kinda forgot,” you began the conversation and he lifted his eyebrows.

“Yeah? What is it?”

“Well…you are currently standing in the presence of the new member of the cheerleading squad!” you exclaimed and his eyes widened.

“They invited you to join?”

“Oh, wow, thanks for believing in me,” you rolled your eyes with a smile and he let the fork down, leaning on the table to give you his full attention.

“You realize they only want you because you hang out with Harrington and because-“

“-I got accepted in a prestigious university and survived a ‘bear attack’, yeah, I know,” you quipped. “But look…the thing is…if I manage to get closer to them…who knows maybe I can start something good. You know… the beginning of change.”

“What do you mean by change?”

“Like, I can change their opinions on some stuff, ya know. Like for example that just because someone likes the fantasy genre, listens to metal, and dresses a bit differently, doesn’t make them a freak,” you shrugged and his eyes softened although there was skepticism swimming deep inside.

“I’m not sure that people who are set in their ways can be changed that easily.”

“Maybe, maybe not… We’ll never know unless we try, right?” you shot him an encouraging smile.

While you loved the idea of dancing and cheering for Steve and wearing a pretty uniform with glittery pompoms, the main reason why you decided to accept the offer was because you wanted to get closer to the most popular girls, hoping to slowly be able to change their views on things. Many people at school followed the example of the popular students like little sheep. It was a blessing and a curse, depending on what kind of views the populars had. In Hawkins High’s case, it was sort of mixed. It wasn’t a hopeless situation but it needed some work. For the sake of Will, Mike, Dustin, and Lucas, you hoped that you’d be able to change some things before you graduated.

“You know… I wish we could share more moments like that,” spoke Eddie suddenly after you had finished the rest of the breakfast in silence and you looked at him in confusion.

“Like what?”

“Like that,” he shrugged. “Enjoying time together…just the two of us,” he muttered, focusing on the table as his fingers played with the rim of the tablecloth and then he abruptly paused as his eyes widened, suddenly being painfully aware of what he had just said, body tensing and blood running cold in his vessels.

Your eyes also widened, face blanching as his words and expression registered in your mind and awareness crept into your heart.

“Eddie-“

“No, man, don’t,” he cut you off, his eyes shutting and face contorting in regret and visible embarrassment, “-don’t say anything,” he stammered out as he lifted his hand off the table before dropping it back down, his rings hitting the wood causing a loud noise that made you flinch. “I know what you’re thinking. We don’t…need to have the whole conversation or whatever,” he huffed as he ran his hands down his face and you frowned.

“No, Eddie, you usually run away and hide when you’re upset or when you have to deal with something serious like this. But this time I’m not gonna let you shut down. We’re having this talk.”

“And what do you want me to say?” he snapped as his eyes shot to look at you, lips tightened as he gnawed on the inside of his mouth. “You want me to say that I’ve… felt this way since I fucking met you?” his eyebrows shot to his hairline as his wide, panicked eyes pierced yours. He fidgeted in his seat and then looked away, letting out a heavy, shaky exhale, making you bite your lip and clench your hands into fists, nails digging painfully into your skin. But the physical pain couldn’t distract you from the heartache that was shattering you from the inside out.

“Eddie-“

“You know, it's fine,” he looked at you then and gave you a pained smile. “I know that you love Harrington,” he rapidly fired out and you shrunk in your seat, cheeks heating up, “so don’t… feel like you have to return my feelings, ok? Just…just keep being yourself, hm?” his tone softened as his lips twitched a couple of times as if he couldn’t decide if he wanted to keep up the painful smile or just allow himself to frown. “I’m fine with… loving you from afar,” he gulped as he finally confessed and your whole body tensed even more, eyes welling up with tears as your mouth opened and closed, not knowing what to say.

“Eddie…I…”

“You don’t have to say anything,” his hands hit the table lightly as he jumped to his feet and paced a little, swinging his arms back and forth before he neared the sofa, his back still turned on you. “You know, this was actually weighing me down for a long time… So I’m kinda…glad that I lost control for a second there and blurted this shit out,” he snorted lightly. “Cause now I feel a bit lighter and maybe, just maybe, I’ll be able to…move on easier,” he let out a sigh then sharply turned around to face you, leaning on the sofa and putting one leg over the over as one hand went to grasp his upper arm, fingers clenching and unclenching around the thick fabric of his clothes. “I want to keep being friends…if that’s ok with you?” he tilted his head and your fists loosened as you went to aggressively wipe your eyes before the tears could escape. You stood up from the seat and took a deep breath before finding the strength to give him a smile, albeit a sad one.

“Of course, I want to keep being friends, you dummy,” you told him softly and he smiled.

You approached him slowly, all fidgety, your hands wringing as your fingers scratched, pinched and pulled at your skin and you wondered if what you wanted to do was smart. Before you could reach a conclusion you were already standing in front of the boy and pulling him for a hug. He stood there frozen for a couple of seconds before his arms slowly moved to engulf you and return the hug.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered against his shoulder and he let out a weak chuckle.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

You parted then and looked at one another before he went to wipe a stray tear off your cheek that had escaped you in your frantic attempt to dry your eyes.

“And I don’t want to see you crying over me, ok?” asked Eddie as he lifted his eyebrows and pinched your cheek lightly, making you close your eyes as you let a breathy laugh escape your nose.

“I’m not making any promises.”

“Well, ugh, you better do, otherwise I’m not driving you to school.”

“We came here with my car, though.”

“Shit, that’s right.”

The morning and lunch had passed fairly quickly and before you knew it, the classes were over and it was now time for your first cheer practice. You had met Tina and Margot and the three of you skipped to the female dressing room at the gym where they gave you your uniform.

You smiled at yourself in the mirror as you observed the cream, green and marigold colors that you now wore. It looked nice on you. Very neat.

Shortly after, other girls began piling in and getting dressed, talking animatedly amongst themselves. Each one came to introduce herself to you and you did the same as you joined the talk. It was sort of refreshing to talk about mundane stuff or gossip considering that the past year was spent in dark corners of your mind or discussing depressive things like trauma, panic attacks, nightmares and whatnot. It was nice to be able to talk about normal girly things.

“By the way, you’re not dating that freak, are you?” asked one of the girls and you scrunched up your eyebrows.

“Who?”

“The Munson guy.”

“Why would you think that?” you scratched your arm awkwardly and she shrugged.

“Well, last night at the party he dragged you away, and…everyone was kinda curious to know what happened afterward,” she smirked and you chuckled.

“Nothing, really. I dropped him in his neighborhood and he went home. So did I.”

It was a blatant lie but what were you supposed to say? Oh, we hang out, we drank, we smoked weed, I cried my eyes out and we both fell asleep in the same bed and then he saw me half naked.

Not suspicious at all.

“You do know that he…dragged me away from the party because Tommy was a jerk, right? There was no other…reason.”

“Fair point. Tommy is a dick. I would’ve left too,” hummed Margot as she focused on putting on more mascara and observed her look in her compact mirror.

“Although I’m not sure if Munson is a better company,” added Tina while tying her shoelaces and you held back a scowl.

“Why do you think so?”

“Well, his father for one. I’m not sure if I want to be around someone who was brought up by such a parent. I mean, you never know, right?” she asked the others agreed.

“Well, I don’t think we are defined by our parents,” you went into defense. “I mean, look at me. My father is a total asshole and a drunkard but I’m nothing like him.”

“Yeah but Eddie is actually selling drugs,” she countered knowingly and you shut your mouth.

You didn’t know how to respond to that.

“Well, uh… you do have a point about that but… trust me, he’s actually a very chill guy. I think that some of you might actually like him if you give him a chance. I’m pretty sure he’s gonna treat you, ladies, with more respect than half the guys at this school,” you gave them a smile and some of them chuckled while others remained skeptical.

The practice had gone very well. They had shown you the choreography they had come up with so far. It wasn’t that hard to memorize and apply and they had been impressed.

Chrissy and Lorelei were the sweetest of everyone and they were eager to get to know you and become your friends which you appreciated a lot.

“Hey,” called Steve as he jogged over to you while you were bending to pick up the jacket you had discarded.

“Hi!”

“I love those colors on you…It suits you,” he complimented after looking you up and down, admiring your appearance, and you smiled shyly, looking down at yourself for a moment before back at him.

“Yeah? Well, I’ll wear them more often from now on.”

“We’re like, teammates now, aren’t we? Super cool,” he grinned but it wasn’t his usual bright grin or teasing grin or any other typical Steve grin. It felt like his energy was a bit off today.

Duller.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” you asked and he looked away, sighing.

“I, uh…it’s a long story.”

“Does it involve Nancy?” you lifted a brow and he nodded.

“Mhm…”

You looked around and saw that the girls were nowhere to be seen which meant they had headed to the female dressing room while most of the boys were coming into the gym which meant that the male dressing room was probably empty.

“Come with me,” you grabbed his elbow and tugged lightly. He scrunched up his forehead in confusion but followed you nonetheless.

From afar, Billy saw the interaction, and a frown formed on his face. He watched you drag Steve away and wondered what kind of relationship the two of you had. He wondered if he should confront you about it.

“Alright…tell me…what’s going on with you two?” you finally asked the boy after the two of you made sure there was really no one in the dressing room and sneaked inside, sitting on the benches.

“Uh, I don’t even know where to start,” he rubbed the back of his neck. “Last night, she got very drunk. You were there when she started drinking! I’ve never seen her like that.”

“Yeah, it was not very Nancy-like,” you agreed.

“I tried to stop her and she spilled her drink on herself,” he recounted and you cringed. Red punch on a white dress was not a good combination. “She got mad at me and escaped to the restroom so I…took the chance to go talk to her. Ask her what’s wrong.” He ran a hand through his hair as he let out a pitiful sigh and looked at you. “And she just said that everything was bullshit. She said that we killed Barb, that I’m bullshit, that we’re faking that everything is ok when it’s not, that our relationship is bullshit, bullshit, bullshit, and that shee…doesn’t love me,” he tightened his lips as a combination of pained, withering and humiliating expression formed on his face and you bit the inside of your lip as you gave him a pitiful gaze.

You felt sorry for him.

But at the same time, your heart began beating faster and something akin to hope began blooming inside of you.

“She was just…drunk, Steve. Maybe she didn’t mean it,” you hesitantly put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed, hoping to give him some reassurance but deep down you knew that when people got drunk they lost all filter and all control. They would tell things as they truly think them exactly because this self-control and filter thins under the influence. That’s the reason why you never got drunk around Steve because you were afraid you’d end up spilling something you shouldn’t.

“Yeah, I don’t know about that,” he muttered.

“Maybe you should go talk to her, hm? Ask her what she thinks now that she’s sober,” you offered and he nodded.

“Yeah, I guess I’ll do that later.”

After that, the two of you headed out of the locker room and back to the gym.

“Sorry, I can’t stay to watch the practice. I have to go pick up my brother. That was the deal since both of us have after-class activities today,” you told the boy.

Just when you were about to turn around and go back to the female locker rooms, someone strolled towards you.

“Yeah, sure, it’s no problem. See you tomorrow,” he smiled before jogging away.

“Well, that was interesting. I didn’t know you had that many boys wrapped around your finger. Yet you don’t want to give me a chance?” said Billy as he gave you a challenging look and you frowned.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t you? Even after last night’s party?” he shortened the distance, coming to stand right in front of you and you held your breath as he leaned in alarmingly close, your chests almost brushing, your cheeks flushing at the way he looked at you. There was just something about those blue eyes of his.

“What about the party?” you muttered as you tried to not look into his irises and he smirked.

“You have two knights in shining armor looking after you. I almost thought they were your boyfriends with the way they defended you,” he whispered and you could feel his breath hitting your cheek. “Now, I don’t know about the long-haired one but isn’t Harrington taken? It’s kinda suspicious that you’re dragging him in empty dress rooms to do who knows what.”

“What are you implying exactly?” you narrowed your eyes.

“I don’t know, you tell me,” he chuckled deeply. “You’re supposed to be one of the smartest here, right? Figure it out.”

“I’m not-“ you raised your voice before you realized that there were people around, eyes darting to check if you had drawn anyone’s attention. “I’m not fucking Steve or trying to steal him or whatever twisted narrative you’re trying to push here,” you hissed.

“I’m not pushing anything,” he shrugged.

“Billy, don’t play games with me. I’m not in the mood.”

“That’s a shame,” he drawled as he got even closer to you, his hand suddenly moving to grasp the back of your head, fingers burying into your hair. “Cause I love playing games with you,” he smiled smugly as he looked at your lips, then into your eyes, fingers tugging at the bow that held part of your hair up and untangling it. He slipped it out of your locks and dangled it in your face before taking a step back and bringing the piece of satin fabric to his lips, placing a kiss on it.

“That’s gonna bring me good luck today when I kick Harrington’s ass in practice,” he grinned charmingly as he put the ribbon in his pocket and gave you a wink before slowly backing away. You just stood there frozen, not knowing how to respond to that, when he began jogging backward as he kept his eyes glued on you before turning around and joining his team.

You snapped back into motion, finally letting out the breath you were holding. You put a hand on your hip while the other went to fix your messed-up hair as you huffed in frustration.

Your focus shifted to Steve who was glaring daggers at Billy. Sensing your gaze, he turned to look at you, shrugging his shoulders and shaking his head with scrunched-up eyebrows as if to ask ‘What’s his problem’ and you shrugged, pursing your lips. His expression turned into one of concern, asking if you were ok to which you waved your hand dismissively and nodded before bidding him goodbye and heading for the dressing room.

It was empty.

You took your leather jacket out of your locker, folded it, and buried your face in the fabric, letting out a muffled scream.

You took a deep breath and let out a long exhale as you started taking out your things from the locker. You looked at your watch, letting out a curse as you noticed that you were late and AV class was supposed to be ending very soon. Not having time to get dressed, you opted to stay in your cheerleading uniform and rushed to organize your belongings before grabbing your bag and bolting out of the building, briskly walking towards the neighbor one of the Middle School.

Some people were going to be the death of you. At this point, you preferred battling a Demogorgon once again instead of dealing with boys.

But when you went to the classroom where AV club was held, you found it empty.

You put down your bag and rummaged through it, taking out your walkie-talkie.

“Hey, guys? Can anybody hear me? Where are you at?”

“Y/N!? What’s going on? Why are you calling?” asked Mike after a moment of silence and you tsk-ed.

“I’m supposed to pick up Will after AV class but there’s no one in here. Where are you?” you repeated the question and there was more silence before Dustin’s voice came through.

“U-uh, we’re just…we’re in the hallways!” he stuttered and you furrowed your eyebrows.

“Which one?”

“East Wing!”

“West Wing!” Mike and Lucas spoke at once and you chuckled dryly.

“Ok, you do know that I can definitely tell you’re lying, right? Can someone tell me what in the world is going on and where is Will?!”

“Last I heard from him, he was at the bathrooms by Mr. Salerno’s,” said Dustin and you groaned.

“I’m going and he better be there. You guys have some explanations to deliver,” you grit out into the device before closing it and shoving it back in your bag before bolting out of the classroom and towards the bathrooms in question.

You were hurrying down the still-familiar hallways until you reached the one where the bathroom was located, noticing that Mike, Lucas, and the redheaded girl – who you supposed was related to Billy – were heading towards the bathroom as well. All of you met in front of the place before storming inside where you found Dustin at the end of the room, standing in front of a cubicle.

“Where’s Dart?” asked Mike and you did a double-take.

“I don’t know,” shrugged Dustin. “Not here.”

“What?”

“He said by Salerno’s, right?”

“Yeah, maybe Will has him.”

“Hold on, hold on, hold on!” you exclaimed as you waved your hands, drawing the kids’ attention. “What is going on here? What mess have you gotten yourselves into and who the hell is Dart?” you asked as you looked at each and every one of them and they looked at one another, gulping.

“Uh, it’s a-it’s a long story,” stuttered out Dustin and you huffed.

“Alright then, you’ll tell me all about it, after we find Will,” you quipped before whirling and exiting the place, the kids following close behind. “By the way, what’s your name?” you turned to look at the redhead who was walking by your side.

“Max.”

“Nice to meet you,” you sent her a smile as you reached a hand that she accepted for a handshake, returning the smile.

“Me too.”

#stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfiction #will byers x reader #jonathan byers x reader #steve x reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfic #eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #billy hargove x reader #hopper x reader #reader #reader insert #Spotify

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angelasscribbles · 11 months

Text

Victim of Love Chapter 6: Quagmire

Series: Victim of Love

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings: Liam x Riley (for now), Drake x Riley

Word Count: 1,404

Rating: MA

A/N: This is not sweet, canon Liam. Things are complicated. He might be a little selfish in this one.

Warnings for this chapter: None really. A very heated argument lol.

Song Inspiration for series: Victim of Love by The Eagles

I see a broken heart

You got your stories to tell

My other stuff: Master List.

Drake was afraid that lunch with Liam was going to be awkward, all things considered. But it wasn’t. They quickly fell back into the old, familiar patterns of their friendship. The teasing, the bantering, and the habit of telling each other everything.

Well, almost everything.

Drake squirmed uncomfortably when Liam asked about his love life. He decided to evade rather than lie, “Probably less complicated than yours.”

“Probably,” Liam mused as he lifted his water glass to his lips, “I haven’t seen Riley in weeks and last night, she wouldn’t even let me touch her!”

“What?” Drake almost choked on the forkful of potatoes he had just stuck in his mouth. That news made him happier than it should have.

Liam set his glass on the table and pushed it away with a sigh, “She’s angry. I don’t blame her, all things considered, but-“

“What is the story there?” Drake had paused chewing, eyes locked on his best friend as he waited for answers.

“As I told you, the council wouldn’t approve her nor would my father.”

“Because she’s a commoner?” He remembered Liam had told him that much at the wedding.

Liam nodded, “Yes.”

Drake placed his fork on his plate and leaned back in his chair as he regarded his friend solemnly, “And there was nothing you could do? No negotiations? No loopholes? I mean…clearly, she’s a duchess now…”

There were always loopholes.

Liam shrugged, “If Riley hadn’t existed, then my decision would have been easy. You’ve seen my wife. She’s not exactly hard to look at and she was raised for ruling. She handles the role well.”

“So what? You wanted to have your cake and eat it too?”

“Is that so bad?”

Drake’s mouth fell open, “I mean…it doesn’t seem fair to either woman.”

“I’m surprised at your reaction, it’s nothing you don’t do.”

“What isn’t?”

“Sleeping with multiple partners.”

“That’s true but I’m not in a committed relationship.”

“Are you saying that if you found the right woman, you would give up all the others?”

Emerald eyes swam through his head as he nodded, “I would.”

Liam scoffed, “I’m not sure I believe that but regardless, you know that marrying was never about love and the commitment and duty part is all about Cordonia.”

“So you two have agreed on an open relationship?”

“Oh, heavens no!” Liam reached for a roll, “Can you imagine the scandal if the queen had an affair?”

Drake’s brows drew together in confusion, “But you’re having an affair!”

“That’s different.”

“How?”

“First of all, because I’m the king. I can do what I want. Second of all, I can’t produce a child with the wrong parentage. She can. Even if I impregnated someone else, the public wouldn’t care. But if the queen had an illegitimate child? No. That can’t happen.”

“But-“

Liam waved his hand dismissively, “I know, I know. It seems unfair, but it’s the way of the world. I don’t make the rules.”

“You’re literally the king, you ass.” Drake shook his head half in amusement and half in disbelief.

“Even that has it’s limits.”

“So, your wife doesn’t know about Riley?”

“I wouldn’t say that….”

“And Riley is okay with your marriage?”

“I wouldn’t say that either,” Liam sighed, “It’s….complicated.”

The door to the private dining room opened and Drake choked on his food again as Liam sprang to his feet.

Riley went willingly into Liam’s embrace, but her eyes zeroed in on Drake as she returned the hug. Turning her head to the side so Liam’s kiss landed on her cheek, she greeted them both with, “Good morning.”

Liam chuckled, “it’s afternoon, love. This is lunch.”

“For you,” Riley scoffed as she took a seat at the table, “first meal of the day is breakfast no matter what time it’s served.”

“Riley tends to burn the midnight oil,” Liam explained as he retook his seat.

“I’m a raging night owl, he means,” she smiled at Drake and his heart somehow managed to plummet and soar at the same time.

Drake cleared his throat as he reached for his water glass, “I wasn’t aware you’d be joining us.”

“Liam insisted,” she paused as a server placed a dish in front of her then spoke to her plate as she pushed the food around with her fork, “sorry I was late. I was a bit hung over this morning.”

“I want you two to get to know each other!” Liam interjected.

Riley’s eyes lifted from her plate to meet Drakes; her gaze laden with amused irony.

“Ah…I….” Drake had never been struck speechless before, but then he’d never been in such an awkward situation.

He was saved from answering when the door to the dining room opened again. The queen strode into the room, fury etched on every feature of her face, “I knew I’d find you with her!”

Riley’s fork clattered to her plate as an exaggerated sigh escaped her, “Just fucking peachy…”

Liam was on his feet again, “Darling, you’re supposed to be resting-“

“How can I rest when I know she’s here?” the new arrival leaned around Liam’s body to glare at Riley, “It’s bad enough when you disappear for days at a time to Valtoria, or she follows you to Paris but here you are carrying on under my own roof!”

Riley turned in astonishment, “Are you serious right now? After what you did to me?”

“What I did to you? You’re the one fucking my husband even though you know I’m pregnant and shouldn’t be placed under any undo stress! Have you no shame?”

“Me?” Riley pushed away from the table and strode toward the other woman, shoving past Liam as she went, “You’re the one that married the man I loved even though you were supposed to be my best friend!”

“I was your best friend, Riley! But I was sent here for a specific purpose, and I fulfilled that purpose!”

“Oh really, Hana? Don’t pretend that you gave a shit about what your parents wanted…you married him to punish me for not returning your feelings!”

Hana stumbled back like she’d been hit, “That’s an outrageous accusation!”

Riley scoffed, “It’s the truth! Two nights before the coronation you tried to get me to run away with you and when I told you that I was in love with Liam, you-“

“Riley, please,” Liam reached for her arm in an attempt to defuse the situation.

She jerked her arm out of his grasp and spun on him, “Fuck you Liam! You didn’t even try to fight for us and out of everyone you could have chosen, you picked my best fucking friend!”

Hana’s voice shook with outrage, “If you were my friend, Riley, you wouldn’t be sleeping with my husband!”

“If you were my friend, Hana, you wouldn’t have married the man that had already made promises to me! The man that fucked me in the hedge maze five minutes before getting engaged to you!”

Hana’s body jerked back at the revelation and a malicious smile spread across Riley’s face, “Oh, you didn’t know about that, huh?”

Hana’s face darkened even more as her eyes filled with angry tears, “I….you’re lying!”

“Sure I am,” Riley’s composure was back, “Keep telling yourself that because we both know he won’t tell the truth about a goddamn thing!”

Riley turned and headed for the door, “Fuck both of you! You deserve each other!”

Liam started to go after her, “Riley, wait!”

Hana stepped in front of him, “Liam! Are you serious right now? You’re going to chase after your whore? I’m your wife!”

Drake, who had sat watching the whole exchange with wide eyes scrambled to his feet. Clamping a hand on Liam’s shoulder, he told him, “It’s okay, deal with your wife. Stress can’t be good for the baby….I’ll go after Riley.”

“But…you barely know her…”

“You’re right. I just met her. But it doesn’t seem like she’s in the mood to deal with you right now, does it?”

Liam’s shoulders slumped as he blew out a breath of frustration, “You’re right. Thank you, Drake.”

“Sure,” he said as he headed for the door.

Don’t thank me. I don’t deserve it.

He threw a glance over his shoulder as he exited the dining room. Liam had Hana wrapped in his arms.

Drake shook his head as let the door fall shut and took off down the hall after Riley.

#victim of love #angelasscribbles #trr au #drake walker #drake x mc #drake x riley #the royal romance #trr #the royal romance fanfic #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week #choices #liam rys #choices stories you play

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halloweenbitch2764 · 1 year

Note

Don’t know if you’ll do this but it sounds so good but I cannot finds the words but I know someone else will; what if the female SO of Max was either forced or almost abused by Danny Johnson/Ghostface and Max got even with them with maybe the entity’s permission or they found a loophole maybe? :3

Sorry I took so long to get to this. Thank you for the request!

TW: Hints about almost SA and mentions of violence (nothing really specific will be mentioned)

Max Getting Revenge on Ghostface

Max knew something was wrong when you stopped talking as much

You always seemed a thousand miles away

He'd try to question you on it but you'd always tell him it was nothing and you were fine

He knew better than to believe that

It didn't take long for you to breakdown

He visited you between trials and found you on your bed, sobbing into your knees which were pulled up to your chest

He immediately ran over and pulled you into his lap as you cried into his chest

He ran his fingers through your hair soothingly until you calmed down enough to talk

"Want to talk about it?" He asked, not wanting to upset you further

You nodded

You explained how Ghostface had cornered you and got handsy

You pushed him off and told him that you had a boyfriend and weren't interested in anything to do with him

He didn't take kindly to that

You were lucky you got out before it got further than it had

Not that you escaped unscathed

Max had fire in his eyes as he listened to the encounter

He hasn't felt such fury since...well, ever

He reassured you he'd handle it and continued to comfort you

Soon enough you had to go off to a trial and it left him alone

Your trial was average, nothing special or out of the ordinary

When you got back, Max was sitting on your bed with blood covering his tank top

"Um...Max?"

He looked up from his thoughtful state and smiled at you

"Why is there blood on you?"

He waved his hand slightly

"Asked entity if I could handle it. Entity was more than happy to let me."

You didn't ask for any details and just enjoyed his affection

#the hillbilly #dbd hillbilly #hillbilly x reader #dead by daylight hillbilly #hillbilly #danny johnson #dbd ghostface #dead by daylight x reader #dead by daylight #dbd headcanons #dead by daylight headcanons

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sitchski · 2 years

Text

Distraction — Eddie Munson x black!fem reader

summary: you needed a distraction from the stress your homework was giving you and luckily, eddie was there to provide it.

cw: dom!eddie, bratty!nervous!reader, praise kink, face slapping, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), dirty talk (minors dni!)

word count: 3k

“Goddammit.”

you were so over it. why did calculus have to be so difficult? not just difficult but unnecessarily difficult? you had breezed through all the studying for your other subjects, all the homework you were assigned.

it was just. calculus.

in hawkins high’s library, you had found a loophole. see, ms. rivers (the librarian), was young. meaning it was stupendously easy to get on her good side.

and in the right corner of the library, the “closed off area” led to a tranquil, secluded section. where ms. rivers herself went to at times. there stood a desk, chair and was surrounded by bookcases — not in the suffocating way and more in the ‘if the walls were books’ way. it was also accompanied with a skylight, giving the space just the right amount of greenery to soothe the soul from a school day. a ladder sat lonely in the room, used for reaching the higher spots of the rows of shelves.

you got on her good side. you got the secret spot. simple.

but right now its serenity wasn’t helping, as you were even more tense than when you entered.

you decided on giving up, pushing away your things and hoping to meet up with someone in your class later who knew what the hell the worksheet was talking about.

you got up to look at the bookcases. eyes skimming over the spines upon spines of books, you settled on a classic. i know why the caged bird sings by maya angelou. also known as your goddess.

you began to try to let your mind indulge in the story. try to forget to be aware of your surroundings. the book needed your full attention so, that’s what you’d give it.

except you couldn’t. the harder you stared at the words to try and make sense of them, the less they became comprehensible.

you sighed, ready to get up and leave. your point of focus was lost and you were starting to regret giving up your free time to walk all the way from the other side of school to get here.

“oh. uh…”

what you didn’t expect when your back was turned to put away the book was another person when you turned around.

it was eddie munson. dubbed as the school’s ‘freak’ by many of the assholes that walked the same halls as you.

personally, you never saw him as such. you shared one or two classes but the barrier of differing friendship groups stopped you guys from having actual conversations. all you knew was, he wasn’t what people tended to make of him. he was a little witty, a little eccentric, and in most cases, a little kind. you gave him props honestly. his ability to care about school’s subcultures, its bursts of outrageous gossip every once in a while was so low that he minded his business.

“s-sorry, i- didn’t know anyone else was…” he paused for a moment, not truly believing what he was seeing. “you know about here?” he questioned.

to be honest, you were as confused as him. seems as though you weren’t the only one who has exclusive access.

“ms. rivers isn’t as trustworthy as those kind eyes make her seem…” you muttered back, earning a little laugh from him. you locked eyes and there was this comfortable silence.

he gave you the once over, then walked to the desk, peering at the worksheet on it. which was embarrassing since you had only written your name and three different wrong answers to the first question. you tried your best not to snicker at him tripping due to the ladder, watching him try to play it off cool.

you hurriedly picked up your pencil case, trying to leave so eddie could have the space to himself. “well, i should get going—”

“is this coleman’s homework?” he asked, his eyes trained on the paper before his eyes darted up at you. you nodded, sliding the sheet closer to your side.

he knew because that was one of the classes you two shared. he was also extremely smart in that class. he was one of the only three to score nearly 100% on the treacherous sheet of torture also known as a mr coleman’s test.

“i thought i’d do it now and get it over with. hence,” you raised your hands up, “you finding me here. but i’m bombing. like, hiroshima-level impact.”

“you really don’t get it, huh?”

“i’m in the one place in this entire school that doesn’t make me wanna shoot my brains out. yet these questions are makin’ me wanna know the nearest gun shop,” you digressed, shoving your pencil case into your tote bag.

as soon as it dropped in there though, eddie took it back out. you couldn’t even process that since he took the sheet out of your grasp too.

“let me know the directions and i’ll drive us. just been the same room as the esteemed hawkins’ tigers and i’d rather have my brains be splattered than deal with that level of testosterone ever again,” he muttered while looking at the sheet.

without even stopping yourself, you laughed at his remark. as it died down, you watched as he took a seat on the chair, after fishing out the crinkled, folded replica of the sheet from his pocket and laying it on the table.

you probably looked rude staring but he looked weird doing things with no context. he glanced at your frozen figure for a split second then grabbed two pencils from your case.

“you gonna keep staring at me, y/n, or d’you wanna learn how to do this?” he asked you yet another question despite your state clearly not associating your speechlessness with shock.

well, it was understandable. you and eddie weren’t friends like that. sure, you never had a problem with him. also, the passive but humorous comments he made towards any member of the basketball team when they tried to make him a victim of their harsh remarks was inadvertently admirable. and, he appreciated your shared distate for the team’s captain.

but again, you two were not friends.

now here he was, offering you homework help in a class he places top 3 in. he shouldn’t be helping you, he should swimming in a pool of self-actualisation and gloat.

it was a confusing matter. not confusing enough, however, for you to sit on the desk and pay attention to him. you crossed your left leg over the other, making your left foot waver right infront of his arm and your right was next to his left thigh.

once eddie’s teaching session began, you once again found it hard to get it right. not because you weren’t focused. oh no, you were focused. just on something else this time.

hands. his calloused, veiny hands. with small scars in hidden places. fingernails almost chewed to the nub probably from nervous habit. on the fingers were silver rings. some plain, some with skulls.

goosebumps arose on your skin — the rising action to the beautiful story you’re typewriting in your head. as you wrote of the spark of cold those rings would give you around your neck. as eddie kissed you. a rough, intoxicating kiss where the only logical thing to do would be keep kissing you.

“hello? earth to y/n?” the same hands you were fantasising about waved afore your daydreaming eyes to get you back into the room.

eddie was now raised up from his seat to be able to get his hand right infront of you. his brown, doe eyes looking quizzically at you. making them look better, making him look better.

amidst ridding yourself of distraction, you discovered a new one. eddie munson’s eyes… how the spherical hypnosis painted in a chocolate hue entrapped you.

his concerned face just made you stare at him harder. his furrowed eyebrows and pursed lips. his adorable curiosity made him seem even cuter to you than you initially wanted.

“you really spaced out there… you okay?” he asked, eyes dancing around your emotionless face.

you had never looked at him in this way, nor were you complaining. it was so understandable though, he had gotten so close to you. he had made you laugh, helped you with your homework, asked you if you were okay.

and doing it all in such an attractive manner that you couldn’t help but act on impulse. although eddie wasn’t your first kiss, the way you did it gave that impression for sure.

you pressed your lips against his with haste, your eyes shutting tight and body immensely stiff. when your eyes opened, you were met with a reaction you expected that didn’t really want.

eddie looked at you shocked but you couldn’t tell what kind of shocked it was. good shocked or bad shocked? fuck, what kind of shocked is it?!

“sorry,” you blurted out with embarrassed eyes and stiff posture. you gripped onto the edge of the desk so hard there was now a caramel hue to your brown knuckles.

he was still staring at you like you had just told him his uncle died or something. except this time, his eyes flickered down to your lips. since he still wasn’t speaking, you decided to dig a bigger hole and keep talking.

“you were- i just couldn’t focus like, the whole time you were tryna help me. then you just kept starin’ at me. and i had wanted to do that since you sat down an—” you caught yourself, shutting your eyes tight again.

why the fuck would you say that?

“why the fuck would i say that?” you thought out loud. you looked back up at him, except he didn’t so shocked anymore. if anything he looked… amused.

he had a lopsided smirk, the right corner of his mouth lazily upturned at your erratic state. maybe you shouldn’t have kept talking.

“sorry. i’m- m’really sorry, i should—” you stammeringly apologised, getting up from the desk. fingers struggling to grasp onto the handles of your bag like you trying to hold onto your sanity.

the only logical thing would be to walk away as you cursed yourself under your breath. so this moment doesn’t have to worsen.

“y/n.” only a simple call of your name got you to quieten down. that and the fact he grabbed your hand to stop you. you turned around to eye him, while he stared at you.

nothing was said. nothing could be said when he took a step closer to you, backing you up against a bookcase, to kiss you.

he kissed your bottom lip; a soft, chaste kiss. so soft you could almost hear the hatching of the cocoons that set free butterflies in the pit of your stomach.

more made home there the less chaste the kiss got. when his rings made you gasp as his hands held your cheeks. from that cold you had been imagining. giving him an opportunity to let his tongue slide into your mouth.

the iambic pentameter fluttered in the gates known as your rib cage, going so high up in iambs you were scared it was going to burst.

a hum escaped as he found a rhythm with the way he kissed you but was messed up by your constant gasping and hums. he pulled away with a look of concern he’d never had.

“y/n.”

“yeah?” you timidly answered, your voice so shaky from the nervousness. it’s funny, since in your mind there was no telling how bold you were.

“no one’s gonna know what we do. it’s just you… and i… alright?” he reassured. you nodded but he wasn’t satisfied with that.

“be vocal with me, hmm? it’s alright, yes?” his voice was soft but stern. warm but from the mouth of a brute so, you knew you had to listen.

“yes.”

“good,” he showed you a half smile, kissing your cheek. then trailed them down to your neck. where he sucked, bit and licked on your skin. desperate to leave a mark on you.

“and it’s good if i kiss you here, isn’t it, y/n?” he questioned you. your moans had surpassed your level of talking; the pleasure was started to get so intense you felt you didn’t need to say anything.

naturally, you thought it was fine that your vocal chords couldn’t push out anything other than an nonverbal expression of elation. but eddie wasn’t really having that.

he bit onto your skin and while in a context other than this, it would hurt you, it excited you. let you know he wasn’t doing the comfortable shit. he was doing what would never distract you.

jolting, you froze back in place once again as he kitty licked on that bruising spot to soothe you. “your words…” he muttered onto your neck. you breathed out heavily and shakily, pushing out a ‘yes’ from your voice only just above a mutter.

sadism. you could feel the sadism of his smile without even looking at him directly. it was on your flesh and he pressed it in with his kisses. you only registered his hands when they had skilfully slipped up your right thigh and hovered right over your panties.

fingertips flicking at the embroidered bow, digits dangerously close to your clothed clit and heart hyperventilating in tune with yours, he snuck his hand inside your panties.

you wanted to be quiet. oh, so desperately. but it was eddie. and yes, while you hadn’t looked at him so much before this moment, he was never unattractive to you. maybe your own mind and insecurities immediately associated him with the unattainable people at your school. but for what it’s worth, it was a fantasy to have someone so hot, so mysterious, so intriguing take intrigue in you.

“shit,” his voice was hardly audible as he watched the mess you were making on his fingers. well, it was his fault.

“and it’s good if i touch you here too? yeah, baby?” he asked hurriedly, like he wanted you to say yes immediately so he could get to doing all the things he’s currently imagining now here with you like this.

“isn’t it obvious?” you breathlessly goaded in hopes of him finally getting to the good bit. but he would only tease you more. his fingers went back up and away from your folds. stop right above your clit. not touching it, just hovering above it.

“you should watch your mouth before i stop,” he ordered. his breath fanned against your lips and you almost whimpered at how desperate you were for him to make you feel good.

the silence you showed was noticeable, making him chuckle. “so you can listen to me when m’touching you? when m’giving you hickeys and fuckin’ kissin’ you? when i’m doing bad shit to you? hmm?”

“that’s the problem,” you rolled your eyes, agitated at his effrontery with his efforts he began with, “you aren’t touching me right now. s’posed to distract me and you aren’t even doing that, are you?”

matching his energy worked massively. since his agitation caused him to skip whatever he was hoping to do and push two fingers inside of you. the rings he adorned brushed your pussy lips to create this beautiful blend of heat and cold.

you probably weren’t even aware yourself of how much noise you were really making but what mattered to eddie was that you weren’t talking out your ass anymore. you were focused on the feeling of his fingers working their way in and out of you with a quickness that was almost making you shiver.

your hand ran through his hair, while the other latched onto the bookcase for stability. eddie just watched. watched your wetness lap up on his calloused hand, dripping down to the knuckle.

it was all he could draw his attention to; the sound, your movement and the rush it was giving him. it was only after he got off on it, that he looked at you. “what was that?” he teased, making eye contact with you. for a second, it was just silence. reading the lust written all over those brown pupils.

then from there, it was feverish. your lips latched onto eachother’s like you were needed for the other to breathe. your arms folded around his neck as you took long, hard and harsh gasps for air inbetween your kisses.

distractions had come in all sorts of forms for you. in a riveting book, in the aimless conversations you and your friends had, or an episode of the golden girls. but not once did you think your procrastinating mind put focus on this.

focusing solely on making sure your legs wrapped around eddie’s torso. focusing solely on the rush you got when your covered clit pushed up against his bulge. focusing solely on the annoying barrier that were your clothes.

you sucked on his tongue, bit on his bottom lip, kissed wildly as he carried you over to the desk. for a second, he pulled away and you watched as he spun you both around briefly to knock over everything that was still on that desk to sit you right ontop of it.

your legs dropped but still opened for him and he slid himself inbetween them. one hand gripped your left thigh and the other gripped your neck. the choking excited you and the occasional squeeze he gave your pressure points had your pussy clenching on nothing but air.

his attention drove away from your lips and then to your body. delicately, he removes your cardigan, kissing the right shoulder that just became exposed to him. lips on your neck, trailing down to your collarbones, ascending to the closed valley of your breasts due to the tight black t-shirt you sported.

he pulled back to admire the shine his trail of saliva now gave then gazed at you. who was just patiently waiting for him to make his next move.

“black suits you, y’know,” he commented and it was so randomly put out there you couldn’t help but crack a smile. “yeah?” your smile caused him to mirror it.

“mhmm. looks hot on you,” he added. the random compliment was barely acknowledged as he pecked your skin under the hem before slowly lifting your shirt up.

air hit your nipples, both of them hardening and poking out. you wanted to convince yourself that the look on eddie’s face was a figment of your imagination. that it was all heightened, since your brain had floated away in this lustful high.

but it was all real. he marvelled at you, feeling at your brown areola and watching you shiver from his contact. without warning, his lips latched onto your boob. instinctively your hand ran through his hair. and since there was so much of it, it felt good to him.

while his mouth sucked on your breast, swapping around and giving attention to both, his fingers took a high dose of wanderlust. following a downward pathway to your inner thighs. finding the treasure that was your core at the end of it.

coating his fingers in your juices again, his fingers get lost in your entrance. working fast and hard for you. you barely cared how much noise you were making. it was only going to get worse if you two continued.

and you were going to continue. this man had excited you too much for it to stop now. it seemed as he was on the same track anyways. he stopped paying attention to the upper body and decided to meet where his fingers were. the white tennis skirt you had on was soon bunched up around your waist, with your panties carelessly being flung to the floor.

once you were ready to complain to him about his fingers slipping from inside you, you were shut up with something better.

“eddie! eddie!” you cried out as he mercilessly pushed his tongue in and out of you, pausing from the motion to lick a stripe up your folds to taste you.

“you’re soaking,” his eyebrows were furrowed as he watched your body move with his motions when he circled your clit harshly. you squirmed for him and he seemed to really enjoy that.

“you losin’ it for me sweetheart? when i do filthy shit like this for you, huh?” he questioned, so disgusting elated with how you were ready to come undone for him. all he needed was to give you that push.

he licked his fingers, feeling around before pushing the two digits into you once again. you cried for him, even his name fanning past your lips but he didn’t care. he could stay watching you like this for hours.

“fuckin’ gettin’ me hard, turning me on with the way you were starin’ at me. fuck, you’re so fucking sexy, sweetheart,” his frustration was so apparent. the state you were in, as much as he enjoyed the teasing, it also made him lose his own control.

you ran your hands through his hair. that brown, unkempt mane. the disorder tying in with your control as fucking eddie ‘the freak’ munson spat on your clit, sadistcally watching it drip down your slit and mix in with your wetness only to lick it back up.

“fuck…” your body juddered at how sudden and pleasurable the feeling was. and how the desire to feel it again stirred up inside your heart.

a panting and heaving mess, you gazed dreamily at eddie as he stood up. it was clear his control was hanging by a thread as his fingers fumbled frantically with his belt to get his jeans off.

eventually, they were a pool at his feet and he was making his way towards you again. harshly, he pulled you to the edge of the desk, making you squeal a little.

“coulda got a splinter,” you mumbled. and while that was more of a comment to yourself, eddie was still able to hear you. he snickered a little before letting out a deep chuckle, you feeling it rumble in his chest.

after getting his laugh out, he looked at you with adoring eyes. a hand reaches out to caress your face, his thumb going to run down your bottom lip.

“this mouth, y/n l/n,” he said in a singsong tone which made you just want to challenge him. “wow, he knows my last name?! i’m so surprised,” your sarcastic tone just made him laugh again.

he grabbed your face, thumb under your ear and fingers resting under your jaw, so your focus was trained on one spot of his body.

“yeah and what’s mine? we take a class together, you should know this,” he teased, looking deadly serious. however, you played dumb, looking up to the ceiling pretending to be in thought.

“did it begin with an a? or an o? it was definitely a vowel, right?” you questioned stupidly, biting your bottom lip to suppress your cheeky smile.

lightly, his hand on your jaw raises to slap your right cheek. “haha,” he satirically retorted, eyes dancing around but finally focused on your lips.

his kiss yours, his tongue slyly slipping into it and finding a rhythm when colliding with yours. as you kiss, your hands feel down his abdomen. for what you wanted. his cock inside of you. his cock penetrating you. you two finally connecting after all this tension and head bumping.

you needed to be relieved.

he clocked onto your movements and broke from the kiss to watch you. from removing his black boxers, his cock broke free from restraint. he was already hard and you were already quite intimidated.

“holy shit, eddie…” you trailed off, reaching a hand out to feel it. as soon as your hand touched it, he hissed in pleasure. you were going to spit on your hand but eddie fixed that problem.

he slipped his shirt over his head, as it was getting in the way of what he was trying to do. then spat on his dick to give it more leverage as your hand stroked it.

whilst your hand rubbed against him, you looked up from watching yourself at work. to see eddie staring at you oddly. his mouth was uttering small curses and eyes not being able to fixate on a specific part.

you decided not to acknowledge the hard stare and shifted closer to him. he took over, running his dick over your folds before pushing the tip in.

there was a gasp both of you shared when the head of his cock settled into you. you bit your lip at the pleasure and you watched eddie as his eyes stared at nothing in particular. you wrapped an arm around his back as he pushed himself into you further, your wetness making the friction feel even better to him.

your moans were choked as he staggeringly goes in and out, your tightness not doing him any favours with finding a pace to start off at. to steady you, he grabbed a hold of your neck which you whimpered at.

“relax, baby. relax…” he whispered to you, probably hoping you’d stop clenching so hard. but the pressure and pleasure made for so much overwhelm you didn’t think he’d be able to push all the way into you.

ofcourse it felt good. you let him know that by the sharp, breathy moans you were exhaling. he kissed you to shut you up, also using it as a way to get closer to you. to push further in you.

as you felt his dick tap to a very sensitive wall in your body, you cried out louder into his mouth, the sound vibrating onto the tongue you entrapped with your lips. you arched your back at the feeling grew stronger and stronger.

he pulled away from the kiss and connected his forehead to yours, his eyebrows furrowing as a groan rumbled in his chest. this excited you — knowing that you made him lose control as much as he was losing it.

he pulled back out to thrust all the way back in. eyes rolling to the back of your head briefly, you got lightheaded from it. not in a painful way, in an elated way. in a way where you desperately needed more now that it was given to you.

“you like that?” he mumbled. although his voice seemed confident, his eyes had a little bit of fear in them. fear that he was going too rough on you.

but as you murmured that you loved it with your voice trembling, making the request to go faster, he knew exactly what he needed to do for you. he knew what his purpose in this library was.

to give you the best distraction ever.

by your request, his strokes were deeper, faster. so fast the table began to creak and shake in time with the friction. he plunged his dick in and out of your walls while his head buried into the crook of your neck.

this way you got to hear him. hear the little curses he muttered everytime you clenched your walls around his shaft, the groans, the moans. all of it was music to your ears. all of it made you wetter.

you began to grind your hips to match with his and heard his breath hitch as he seemed to really enjoy that. he cursed loud and held your thigh up to be able to get in deeper inside you from the angle you were in.

it felt almost like he was trying to one up you. he didn’t want to lose control of the experience he wanted to give you. as if he was a tyrant trying to keep order of the beautiful bodily temple he was making home in. so you let him. he fucked you in a way that you believed was merciless. a purely tyrannical fuck.

the pleasure of him hitting the spot inside you over and over again caused you to be blindsided by what he was looking at. without warning, you felt him stop.

your arm that was still wrapped around his back only gripped his shoulder as he lifted you. within seconds you felt your back hit something hard. and your ass perched atop something of the same feel. you looked to the side and realised he had sat you ontop of the ladder opposite the table that he stylishly bumped into.

his cock was still inside your pussy, enjoying the wetness that dripped on it and painted onto his shaft to create this beautiful sheen that captivated you everytime you looked at it. all he had to was push out and in to get your attention back.

and he did exactly. you needed to keep up, bitch.

your left hand wrapped around the ladder step above you and your right made home in his hair. which was wildly spiralled around his head, bouncing each time his dick nestled in you fully.

you looked to down to watch it, obsessing over how beautiful it looked. the contrast of your skin colours next to eachother, and how pleasurable his dick was making you feel each time it went in.

you didn’t get to enjoy the show for much long as eddie grabbed your neck and got closer to you. he slapped your face again, seemingly annoyed at the fact that his attention was on you and not his dick.

“keep lookin’ at me. i want you lookin’ at me with that pretty face, baby,” he ordered and you felt so succumbed to not do anything else other than listen.

although it felt intense, everything was already intense. weirdly enough, it made you feel seen. comfortable. like he only had eyes for you in this very moment. one would argue that you’re getting too dreamy about getting laid in your school library but a dream scenario calls for some dreamy feelings.

as he filled you up, you felt your heart beating faster. your stomach felt heavy — the harder eddie thrusted into you, the heavier your stomach felt.

“eddie, eddie, eddie…” you called his name, not even knowing what to say after. your eyes shut and your head threw itself back. you were trying to let him know but it was so powerful you were ready to let go.

“m’gonna cum, eddie. fuck, it feels so good!” you whined. the ticklish feeling of kisses on the bridge of your neck calmed you a bit. still keeping at his vigorous pace, he kissed your neck harder, marking it.

“cum for me, baby. fuck, you’re so fuckin’ pretty, hmm? you gonna cum f’me? yeah?” his voice almost taunted you, jeered at your weakness. you’re about to moan loudly but he drowned it out with the heavy tongue kiss he gave you.

you came for him hard, feeling him grunt into the kiss also. “shit!” he exclaimed on your lips. he watched your body shiver and shake, seemingly in a trance at the sight. “just like that, baby, yeah,” he praised, eyes wandering all over you, “you’re so good. so fuckin’ good.”

I LEFT THIS FOR AGES BUT HERE IT IS AND I COULDNT BE BOTHERED TO FINISH IT OKAY BYE

#eddie munson #eddie st4 #eddie my beloved #joseph quinn #stranger things #stranger things 4 #eddie stranger things #sitchski #eddie munson x black!reader #eddie munson x reader

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denaphoenix · 9 months

Text

GO2 closed caption hell

Welcome to the comprehensive compilation of my absolute favorite mistranscribed captions in Good Omens, season 2, ranging from slightly wrong to deeply troubling - documented for everyone to enjoy before maybe, hopefully, one day, they fix them.

Let us begin, because... while the subtitles really should have read civilian non-combatants, I do quite think that:

Sooo... Here's the structure: I will start with some simple, relatively harmless misheard captions, then we move to names, on to my gripe with non-captioning, before getting into those captions where someone seriously dropped the ball, changing some important meanings, and, because, really, we all need a laugh, all that will be intersected with my absolute favorite, genuinely funny bits. So stick with me, on this beautiful ride.

Starting out with...

Which, of course, I would assume should have been a stripper deliver-O-gram, like a kiss-o-gram, and not a shoutout to a well-known British food-delivery service. However, I definitely would consider ordering at Deliveroo, if my food came with a side of amnesiac John Ham, so I doubt they mind the accidental promotion too much.

Speaking of food. When Jim later DOES deliver food, what is clearly said as "they are little pieces changes to "good old"

And I'm also pretty certain that Shax's taunt a bit later was supposed to be sous-chef as well.

And there are not just misheard captions, but also outright typos, such as God only being interested in exactly one of blameless Job's blameless goats.

Maybe that one goat they mentioned in the contract is special? Maybe it's the loophole Crawley found in order to spare all the others? Maybe it's just an ordinary cock-up. I know what my money's on.

And speaking of Crawley... At the time of Job, the demon was still millennia out from changing the first vowel in his name, and Mr. Neil Gaiman has officially assured us that Aziraphale did remember not having heard of a name change yet, and got it correctly.

The captions however were ahead of their time.

And in that same episode, yet another person was mislabeled, if only in mentioning.

While it is anyone's guess who Lady Brackney is (I'm certain she's a perfectly respectable Lady), Crowley was indeed ordering for Lady Bracknell, the fictitious brainchild of Sir Oscar Wilde in the importance of being Earnest, who, according to Britannica.com "is the embodiment of conventional upper-class Victorian respectability" (the lady, not the sir).

Aziraphale himself, of course, was called Mr. Phale enough times I have given up on screenshotting them all.

And the misnaming doesn't stop there. Just an episode after the Lady Brackney incident, Let's see" suddenly transforms into Aziraphale giving Crowley's car a nickname...

and Shax's name becomes completely silent...

...meaning that our deaf friends can come to the faulty conclusion that Shax was rude enough to not introduce herself wanted to keep that upper hand Aziraphale had mentioned her having. (and don't think I don't appreciate the single dot that was put there in its stead. The dot made it exponentially more funny, really)

The whole scene is quite bad when it comes to subtitles (I swear, that whole episode must have been subtitled by a person with an auditory processing disorder), but the other ones, I'll get to later. There is a structure after all -

- and still one great misnaming to point out with the great Furfur becoming... Fofo.

But back to the bit about Shax's name not being captioned at all. We are quite lucky that that is the only time something is not captioned at all. However, there are other parts that skip heavy bits of dialogue, and while there is a reason for it, I do still have a gripe with it. I am, of course, talking about not captioning the foreign dialogue.

Because while even those who do not understand German, do hear that Fräulein Greta Kleinschmidt calls his colleague "Dummkopf", and those who are able to hear, AND speak German will know she called him a dunce, the non-hearing community only gets the information that the "female zombie" is:

In fact, non of the German dialogue is transcribed.

Neither is the French dialogue by the way. We only learn that Aziraphale is:

as he struggles his way through a full invitation for the "réunion de l'association de tous les commerçantes de la rue", and that, after her informing him that she speaks perfect English, he simply

But we never get a transcript for what he says.

(Until now, because I won't stand for it. The conversation is: Bonjour Justine! Pardonnez moi, mais, [...] Excellente! Well, uhm, viens, maintenant, j'ai un réunion de l'association de tous les commerçantes de la rue dans mon magasin de livres - des - des livres (sic). Je serais honoré si vous pouviaiez (sic) venir. Il y aura des vol-au-vents.")

Then he informs her of the time, and buggers off to tell Crowley, who points out that his french should be better, how he's looking for the (non-existent) feather of the (non-existent) gardener of his (non-existent) aunt: "Ou est la plume du jardinier de ma tante?" which Crowley then repeats by pointing out he's "spent the last 250 years wittering about...

And by the way, I have decided that that "taunt" instead of "tante" is not a mistake in my books, but a funny pun that you can rip out of my cold, dead hands (as well as definitely a mistake.)

But despite neither transcribing the French, nor the German, the Chinese already comes pre-translated - it's just a pity that that translation comes without any disclaimer that they're currently speaking Chinese.

But, admittedly, transcribing the dialogue in 汉字 or even in pinyin would have been less understandable.

All in all, I see no excuse for there not being at least transcriptions for the foreign languages. After all, a bilingual non-hearing person should be able to profit from their bilingualism just as much as a hearing one. While this still happens all to often, I think it is an accessibility issue that needs to be pointed out.

But moving on. Those of you still with me after my whole language rant might remember how I mentioned that I would postpone the rest of the problems in episode 4 for later, and later it is, so let's get into some transcriptions that are seriously baffling, and do change meanings significantly.

Shax's name not being transcribed might have been already bad, but the rest of her dialogue is just as bad. First the captions inform us that:

Even though I have the fleeting suspicion she wanted to seem "in distress" rather than what the captions suggest.

Then she completely messes with the timline,

And, yes, once again, Mr. Gaiman had to specifically inform people that it was indeed eighty, ninety years, which adds up with when the whole Blitz-thing happened. And the downright baffling errors don't stop there.

Greta's "Well, I suppose that's dinner" becomes

And the beautiful finish of the fart song becomes completely jumbled. Instead of legs being "far apart" they are "full apart", and the following lyric should have been "her bottom did sing".

And by the way, I am heartbroken that Crowley's "little demonic miracle of my own" became a

Because we have established that Crowley is a demon, not a man. But what can you expect from mere paltry humans.

Sorry, chicken it again, it seems to be poultry humans.

Aziraphale, later gets completely dehumanized, going from a book seller to "the book selling"

and Crowley grows some unprecedented self-esteem, deciding that instead of Aziraphale:

And, yes, he is, damn it, but that's not what he said, unfortunately.

But he still doesn't deserve to be...

And while smut is very funny, I still believe he said "smote".

Which reminds me...

The weirdest wrong sentence is one that would have later be repeated almost verbatim, which makes the error just seriously confusing.

It should of course be "it would make it seem", even though that one, at least isn't too bad.

The most grievous error, however, is reserved for the fact that people reliant on closed captions will never learn that Shax BROUGHT CROWLEY'S MAIL to their battle, changing that line into the non-descript "brought him out" instead of "brought your mail".

That line was crucial! Come on! And the next few sentences after it make pretty little sense without that information.

They also l miss out on her beautiful neologism "dangerosity", with it the -osity bit being transcribed as

Somebody, please, explain!

The point stands, and while I could go on for several more pictures, I think I've made it well already.

And to be honest, sometimes it is simply hard to tell if the captions are wrong. They are simply unreliable at this point in time. At other times of course, the damned humorously turn into

So this is just as much of an appreciation post for how ridiculously off the captions are at times, as it is trying to serve as a reminder that this is what you get when you don't pay your writers. It's their job to write the scripts, and it would have been Neil Gaiman's job to check for all those errors the fans now had to suffer through/laugh at, if he wasn't on strike. This is what happens if "just anyone" does it. So let this remind you that the people who do it WELL deserve the fair pay they are currently fighting for.

#good omens #go2 spoilers #caption hell #writer's strike #misspelling #ineffable #misheard lyrics #kinda #this took like 8 hours #why am i like this #can i get a wahoo

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