#near realized he did not have a father and accepted that hole as it was

[nilsavatar]

DAY 2 - EATING OUT

Parings: Ao'nung x Fem!human

Genre/Warnings: NSFW/MDNI, no use of Y/N, SMUT in the end, fingering, praising, size difference, soft-dom Ao'nung, fluff Ao'nung, oral (f receiving), slow-burn, ANGST, mention of KirixSpider. All characters are AGED-UP.

Summary: After Kiri's seizure, against all odds Jake convinces Ronal and Tonowari to agree to the temporary setup of a human camp at Awa'atlu. Ao'nung is against it, but meeting Spider's twin sister will change his mind about the aliens. Or at least about her.

Word Count: 6,6k

Masterlist - Request a fic

In the eyes of any Na'vi, human beings knew nothing but destruction. They killed, they plundered, they looted, they stole.

Ao'nung was no exception, despite never having had a chance to meet one. His opinions were based on tales — far from flattering —, testimonies from the not-too-distant past, and the tulkun carcasses moored offshore. A single precise hole pierced their palate to the brain. Too precise to be an accidental wound. Therefore, when his parents agreed for a temporary lab to be set up near Awa'atlu following Kiri's seizure, Ao'nung fiercely opposed it. Never had he leveraged his title as he did that day.

"I appreciate your stance, ma‘itan (son), but you are not yet olo'eyktan. Until then, you will do as you are told."

He might have done as he was ordered, but that did not imply that he would become familiar with the ketuwong (aliens). Or so he believed. One thing about humans still eluded him. Something that would systematically dismantle all his beliefs.

Their immense complexity. Capable of atrocious cruelties, harbored in them also an incredible goodness. A combination of oxymorons made up the intricate human nature. Malice and kindness. Destructiveness and creativity. Cowardice and tenacity. Ignorance and intelligence.

Hatred and love.

Even the lowliest creature, as that who’d usurped and appropriated his world as if they had the authority, had beauty. He saw it in how they dealt with Kiri and the kind smiles they looked at Lo’ak from afar. They seemed to empathize with his discomfort and the feeling of being different, as they were just as out of place as he was on Eywa'eveng (Pandora). Even in the sympathetic or unaffected strains with which they accepted the coldness and suspicion of the natives. Neytiri included.

When contemplating the woman, the boy frequently pondered the reason for the intense hostility; after all, her husband was formally one of them. He knew their story though, as everyone on Pandora. His father himself was a constant reminder of it by the almost inexplicable condescension he reserved for the Sullys.  The legendary Toruk Makto and Palulukan Makto. The chosen ones who led the clans to victory against the Sky People. The same ones who now walked among the reef people with their tails between their legs. Quite literally.

He experienced firsthand the feeling of being a letdown and living in the constant shadow of a flawless sibling.

Tsireya. His sweet little sister, the family's ray of sunshine, was both loved and hated by him. At times, he found comfort in the idea that, if she did not exist, perhaps their parents would be less strict with him.

Na'vi and Terrestrials weren’t so different after all. The same conflicting feelings coexisted in their hearts. The same inconsistency. Like loving an alien in an artificial body, but abhorring his origins. And now that he had a way to deal with them every day, even if from a distance, he realized more and more how much they had in common. At first glance, they might have seemed absolutely diverse. Humans were so small in comparison, so vulnerable. A simple, well-aimed kick could have shattered their fragile bones. They looked delicate, their skin velvety soft. Women at least, from what little he had deduced observing the only human girl on the island. 

Celeste Socorro.

Besides her small size and complete unsuitability to survive on the satellite, her colors were all wrong and seemed to lack uniformity with other specimens of her species. A commonality, it appeared. Their hair varied between disparate shades, their complexions tended to be warm and earthy, and there was no trace of blue excluding the irises of some of them. Celeste wasn’t one of those, though. Her eyes were black; a sun-dried bark brown color made it challenging to distinguish the pupil unless carefully scrutinized. Straw-blond strands, often gathered in a loose ponytail, ran halfway down her back. A few unruly wisps fell to the edges of her mask. Like other humans, she had a sense of modesty that he couldn’t get. Her body was almost entirely veiled by clothing, which didn’t compliment her frame.

Another reason for calling her odd was he couldn't explain why he was interested in her. He should have felt disgust, or at least indifference, but instead, none of this seemed to shake him when his eyes rested on her petite figure. Indeed, he had even found himself looking for her in the crowd. It usually took place at times of maximum distraction. When none of his duties could occupy his day and he loitered around the village. Thoughts wandered, confused until they took the form of the girl. He was frequently bombarded by reality itself. As if to shout in his face that he could not elude her.

Today was no exception. Irritated as never by Celeste's visage intruding on his mind to pay attention to where his heavy legs were taking him, her voice infiltrated his ears. Looking around, Ao'nung realized he was right near the Sullys’ marui. Inside, Kiri was styling Celeste’s hair, while the girl held in her small hands a monitor depicting a scan of Kiri's brain — something he had learned in that brief time in contact with the aliens. From the way the halfbreed rolled her eyes, she was familiar with her friend’s rather authoritative recommendations. 

He had a certain fascination with tawtute (human) contraptions, despite having a fictional feel to native eyes. They were the preserve of a technological development aimed at minimizing the fate of their physical weakness.  He somehow admired their perseverance, their intellectual flare, their nearly utopian idea of progress, but at the expense of what? They had lost any kind of attachment to their intimate and spiritual sphere, chasing answers that did nothing but create new questions and new quests. That same progress that had been born with good intentions to improve their conditions, to help, to save, had repeatedly set them against each other. Because, apparently, the instinct of prevarication and the lure of power were stronger than anything else. Devoid of unified purpose, they were nothing more than a dull shell of flesh.

An incredibly cute wrapper if they had asked his opinion about the human girl without an avatar.

“Even though I know he isn’t our father, he has his memory. He’s built on his genetic code. I can’t help but wonder if a side of him loves us. If he loved our mother.” The silence that had fallen was suffocating when she spoke again. “It seemed like it when he recognized us. The way he looked at us. He wasn’t just surprised; his eyes were the same Jake has for you. He had the eyes of a father, even if it lasted only for a moment. Spider and his mouth,” she mumbled in a bitter laugh. “That’s the only way I can keep my wits, knowing that my brother is in his hands.” 

Brother, he didn’t know she had a brother. But thinking about it, he made a brief connection to the human boy the Sully siblings often mentioned, and everything became tremendously obvious. Ao'nung wondered about the number of others who shared their situation. Terrestrial children born on Pandora. Normally, that would have made his skin crawl, but not today. Not as he eyed Celeste.

“We'll set him free," Kiri said with the sweetest of smiles adorning her face in a purple blush. Her gaze lost in emptiness as expert fingers danced over the fragile scalp of the girl sitting in front of her, intent on sorting the top section of her hair into soft braids and joining them in a single one. The remaining locks fell in graceful waves over her shoulders and around the small of her waist. Celeste snorted sourly, "When? When will your father decide to stop burying his head in the sand?" Her friend’s hands froze as she winced at the viciousness of those words, at the suffering that flowed from the rigidity of her posture. Her expression, once infused with tender hopefulness, now radiated immense sadness. Kiri knew deep in her heart that her parents would do nothing to take Spider back. Neytiri despised them as humans and Jake… Well, Jake felt pity for the Socorro twins, he saw himself in them. Having them around was like reliving the half-life he had before he became Omatikaya. A feeling for which he would give anything to never have to face it again, to bury it along with his past. Because, in a way, he felt like he had stolen the serenity he now had. From Tsu'tey. From Grace.

From Tommy.

They’d all lost their life for him to gain something instead. He’d gained a home, a mate, a family. Enough for him to no longer be invulnerable. If once he had nothing to lose, now he had everything to lose. He would do anything, make any gesture to safeguard what was his greatest strength, but above all, his greatest weakness.

Even sacrifice an innocent kid.

"Cel-" “No, don’t make up excuses for them. Don't insult me by saying they're waiting for the perfect moment to rescue him. They ain't gonna do that. As long as Quaritch doesn’t pull enough strings to force your parents out, no one will do anything.” Celeste’s eyes burned like glowing embers as she stared into Kiri’s liquid amber ones. Sorry to bring this up. I hoped our reunion would be better. The joy of seeing you again, my BFF, my sis, lingered with me. But… you bailed on us and left us to face the RDA alone.  The Omatikaya are standing up to defend the rainforest. The Timpani are their allies now, and the Tawkami are helping with the injured. All this while you were here checking out the sights, learning the way of a new clan. But, as soon as you needed us, you remembered the ones you left to die.” Kiri knew her friend was right to be resentful, to feel wronged, that her heart was bleeding in terror over her brother’s plight, but now she was being unfair. ”Did you think we asked for this? Hiding among strangers? We lost everything. Our home, our people, our status. We don’t belong anywhere, we just have ourselves.”

However distorted by the mask, Celeste’s expression was all too eloquent. She knew way too well what it felt like to be at the extremes of a stray cat. “It’s always about you, huh? But we're talking about Spider here. Quit whining about how much you miss him, moony-eyed whenever you talk about him. When Neytiri decided to leave him behind, you didn’t fight back. You didn't protest when Jake said it was too risky to go back for him.” “Why did you?” “With Neteyam holding me back! A fully grown male Na’vi clutching a small human girl as if I were a viperwolf puppy? What could I have done? Tell me.” Kiri couldn’t answer. “Exactly. Nothing. I am powerless before you.” The tawtute woman stood up toward the entrance furiously, but just as she was about to cross the threshold, she turned one last time to implant her shining, weeping eyes on her dear friend. It's scary to think what they're doing to him. They’re probably brainwashing him with nonsense. The more he stays with them, the more they drive him away from us. Spider's heart is tough, but we Sky People can be corrupted in a jiffy. Especially when they know how to get under our skin and give us a sense of belonging. When on the other side, they have our father.” “Nash and Mary are your parents. Norm, Max. We are your family!” “This is right if you leverage on logic. But let's be real, when has logic ever worked?” A heavy sigh lightened her lungs. “Sorry if I’m dumping it all on you. You have nothin’ to do with it, you have no fault except lovin’ him as much as I do.”

Maybe even more.

“It’s just—.” The tremor in her voice prevented her from finishing the sentence, but the meaning was painfully clear. Celeste was worried about Spider. She was terrified. “We lost him. Even if he manages to come back to us, he will never be what he used to be.”

Perhaps following her hadn't been the smartest choice. They hardly knew each other, and this sudden concern of his was undoubtedly misplaced. Why would she, a human, want to open up to him, of all people? The Metkayina prince, who had never had the courtesy to hide his dislike for her people. Who had never reserved a kind word for the Sullys, let alone for an abandoned little human girl like her.

There was the risk she would misinterpret his intentions — Lo’ak had warned her about him. At worst, she would take him for a creep. But he just couldn't help himself. The way she had come out of the marui, the scowl on her face, plain to see despite the stark reflection of the sun on her mask, and her hunched shoulders. Everything about her, whether it was her warm smile as she played with Tuk, the dedication with which she analyzed every new thing that came her way. Even the misery that filled those intense dark eyes, now flickering with tears, drew him in.

Celeste sat on the seashore. The heavy combat boots, which seemed to have seen better days, had been tossed to her right side as now the waves' soothing motion caressed her feet. Her toes fiddled with the sand while her gaze wandered to the horizon. The gentle breeze from the ocean tousled her half-leaved braids, dragging with it the distant calls of animals.

Ao’nung stood dumbfounded behind a palm tree, trying to gather the courage to approach her. What could he have said to her? It’s not like he could just show up and sit next to her, engaging in who knows what sort of conversation. Up to that point, they had hardly spoken to each other, leaving out forms of convenience. The guy wasn’t Lo’ak or Neteyam. He wasn’t someone familiar enough to even just sit beside her in silence, for his presence would be comforting to her. Nor did he own that innate coolness and likability Rotxo had. Maybe it would be the girl herself who would come to him.

“Don't bother taunting me now that there's no audience. I'm not in the mood for your immaturity.”

Well, roughly. At least it could be considered an icebreaker.

“I don’t plan on messing with you.” "Stalking must be a habit of yours, then.” That had taken him by surprise. He was convinced she hadn't noticed, but the girl had read right through him. She was more receptive and aware of her surroundings than he imagined. And to say that Ao'nung had even been careful to cover his tracks. “I remind you I grew up in the middle of the forest. It’s called mere survival,” she stated as if she had read his mind. “You’re just an open book,” confusion painted on his face (he didn’t know what a book was), “You’re very expressive, it’s easy to catch what you’re thinking.”  “Is that so?” commented in a whisper as he took a seat to her left. “It explains a lot of things.” “If you’re not here to torment me, what brings you here?”. “We started off on the wrong foot.” “That’s an understatement.” “I expected Lo’ak to tell you about how I behaved when they arrived. About the incident at Three Brother Rocks.” “Another euphemism. Anyway, I didn’t need to be updated on the hard time he had here with all of you. I was prepared for what was going to happen. I don’t blame you, you know? Probably if the roles were reversed, we humans would have done the same thing. It’s only natural to fear the difference, especially when they have done little to show their good side. But if you’re trying to apologize, it’s not me you have to ask.” “If it’s all right with you, I would simply like to sit here. We don’t have to talk.” She sketched a smile. “Something tells me that even if I told you I’d rather be alone, you’d still stay.” Ao’nung seemed to weigh his next words, although an eloquent smirk was making its way onto his lips already. “This is still my island. No one can tell me to leave.” “The island of your clan.” “Indeed.” “The Metkayina have so many islands, I’m sure the next chief can go wherever he wishes.” “I suppose so, but this future chief wishes to be here,” he deftly twisted her words, a hint of sarcasm dirtying his voice. “Of all the territories of my people, this beach is my favorite. It’s secluded, hardly anyone ever comes here. It’s not a suitable spot for fishing, perfect if you’re looking for solitude and a place to empty your mind.” “It’s your safe haven, then. My bad if I took it from you, I didn’t mean to.” She made to leave, but Ao’nung stopped her. The grip on her hand was incredibly light, cautious, almost caring. “I don’t mind sharing it with you.”

“Despite growing up among you, I am always surprised how different the concept of personal space is between humans and Na’vi.” “Are we intrusive?” he chuckled. “You touch quite a bit! Especially the hair,” she gave him an elusive smile. “To braid each other’s hair is a way of strengthening bonds. We take care of one other.” “On Earth, we call it grooming. it’s a socialization technique.” “What I said.” Celeste was careful to add that specialists used this term to describe behaviors observed in the animal kingdom. Although they also fall under it, people dislike to be compared to animals, and the Na’vi were no exception.

Styling her hair had become a routine since they had established that uncanny friendship. If it could be called that. Celeste wouldn’t have been sure where to place it, really. So many were the unspoken things between them. Talks that couldn’t be addressed without prodding the touchy attitude of one or the other. She felt a strange sensation in her stomach from the occasional intense glances. As if her insides were all of a sudden twisting around, tearing her breath away.

Although they had not put up posters, it was pretty obvious that Celeste was getting close to someone local. People began asking questions. 

As if catching them together frequently wasn’t already a blatant response.

So many minor details that make up a bigger picture. Starting with the very braids and nacre pearls that adorned the girl’s hair, in a style that differed altogether from Omatikaya customs. And ending with the perpetual jubilation that seemed to have taken the place of severity over Ao’nung’s face. This one aspect clearly demonstrated that something was happening between them.  The attitudinal shift was way too remarkable. He was no longer so grumpy or difficult to deal with. He now seemed to have grown accustomed to the human presence in the village, even paying daily visits to the lab, driven by curiosity and eagerness to learn. His interactions with Sky People were nearly quotidian, so much so that he had adopted some English terms into his linguistic repertoire. A language he was picking up incredibly fast and had become common ground with the Sully siblings. They had yet to reach a point where they could call each other friends, but it was a step in the right direction. Who knew it would take the influence of a tawtute girl for them to establish a truce.

In any case, this had not been enough for Neteyam and Lo’ak to stop keeping an eye on her, still weirded out by that unexpected connection with such an asshole — somebody who seemed to show his genuine side only to her. They didn’t trust him fully, although he had shown he respected her and was the sole one able to bring a sincere smile back to her beautiful face.

They were her brothers after all. Their duty was to protect her.

As the man traced an intricate weave of braids starting at the crown of her head and extending a little further back anchored by bright blue beads from Nom’s Delight, Celeste didn’t miss the opportunity to tease him. “You’re better than I thought at this,” she said, observing the effort he was putting into it through a hand mirror. “When you have a sister, you are forced to learn.” “You’re the one who makes her look so fabulous with those hairstyles. I thought was your mother doing.” “She would like to, but she’s got no time. So...” “You act like it bugs you, but deep down you love doing it for her.” No response other than a resounding snort and an eye roll that did not escape the mirror. “it’s nice. It’s your way of showing her your love.” “I guess we all end up succumbing to our sisters in one way or another.” She chuckled, “I assume so.” A sudden veil of sadness darkened her eyes, although the shadow of an affectionate smile lingered on her rosy lips.

“And... how are things? Got used to the reef yet? You have met no one like us before.” The sudden change of subject served as a clear distraction from thinking about Spider. But, however poorly, it succeeded as an attempt, Celeste was still grateful to him. “To be honest, I saw pictures of you. I already had an idea of what you looked like. Yet seeing you in person is a whole other thing.” She was staring at him. “May I?” she asked, extending her hand toward the stake on his arm. Celeste was surprised at the hard but flexible texture. She had imagined it cartilaginous, but there was clearly a muscular structure underneath the fin-like membrane. She traced the entire outline of the excrescence. From the elbow to the wrist and then along the back of the hand where the pinky finger started, which appeared far more robust than the Na’vi of the forests. Like the rest of their frame. Taking advantage of her own petite figure, the girl wedged herself under his arm so she could analyze his back muscles. Defined and prominent, they followed the line of a chunkier ribcage.  If the Omatikaya sternum had always seemed pronounced, the Metkayina’s was bulky.

Ao’nung trembled under the imperceptible touch of her fingers as they came down to graze the base of his solid tail, and he blushed. A violet-pinkish tint colored his nose and cheekbones, making the azure of his eyes even more vivid. He had to hold his breath as he turned just enough to hide his face.  In vain. “I’m sorry. I went too far. It’s a susceptible spot, isn’t it?” "It's all good," he shrugged and shook his head. "Hey, fun fact, humans used to have tails," she said with a chuckle and a hint of guilt. As if it were an attempt to make it up to him. “Well, it wasn’t really a “tail” per se. It was more of an appendage. 25 million years ago, this mutation happened. It left only a handful of caudal vertebrae to form the coccyx.” Ao’nung stared at her raptly. Although he didn’t understand a significant part of what she said (too many specific English terms were mixed in with the Na’vi), it fascinated him to hear her talk about such distant and complicated topics. “Believe it or not, we have a small tail when we're embryos that eventually merges with our spine.” “I can’t picture you with a tail.” ”Me neither. A human with a tail,” she laughed. “I’ve heard of rare cases of babies being born with a tiny stump, but it is removed.” The boy scratched his throat, another slight blush clouding his cheeks. “Which one do you like best?” “Hmm?” The way she tilted her head doubtfully was tremendously adorable. “Which kind of tail do you prefer? Ours or the forest people’s?” The girl took her chin between her teeny tiny fingers. “Actually, never crossed my mind. I didn’t really consider how it looks, just how well it adapts to the environment. You Na’vi are built differently than us humans, with a physical differentiation that we do not have. Nor do other species that lived on Earth, as far as I know, with rare exceptions.”

Like dogs, she restrained herself from saying that. Celeste supposed he wouldn’t like being compared to a pet, in scientific terms or not. "But if I had to pick, I guess yours is more unique. To the forest natives I am used to, though, so…” The answer he received did not meet his expectations, yet it sufficed for Ao'nung's pride. In its own way, it was equivalent to being told he was better looking than Lo’ak or Neteyam. Or whatever other male there was in the Omatikaya clan.

“Want to check out anything else? Dunno, the stripes or the nictitating membrane. But I gotta submerge my head for that one or it won’t come out.” He said the last sentence in a pensive tone. “There is one thing I would like to look at. That's not really a physical trait, it's more of a cultural thing.” “What is it?” “Your tattoo.”  Not waiting for an answer, she took his arm between both hands, running her gaze over the elaborate tribal pattern that dyed much of his arm black. From the wrist to the deltoid, and a small portion of the trapezius and pectoral. Segments, waves, and stick figures that showed achievement, status, and social position. Each addition was a rite of passage, a goal attained, and his role in the clan. The art of tattooing was a widespread practice. All tattoos were considered a gift from both Eywa and the clan. They were unique and told the story of the individual’s life. In particular, arm tattoos represented the more exposed protective shield of the seawall, meant to protect the Metkayina from dangerous wildlife lurking within their oceans. Thus a hunter, a warrior, somebody strong who could provide for the clan. "This one's more pigmented," Celeste noted. “It’s recent. It symbolizes the secure embrace of the central island. Someday, I'm gonna be the olo'eyktan. I'll be responsible for looking after my people, both inside and out, keeping them safe and leading them.” Absentmindedly, she traced the outlines of the design imprinted at hip level and outlining the pelvis, causing him a shiver that she pretended to ignore.

“You know, how I learned about Metkayina is kinda funny.” The sentence sounded totally random, but it still aroused his interest. The Socorro twins weren’t the sole human children born on Pandora; others had preceded them during the first colonization attempt. They were the fruit of unlikely loves and irrepressible passions that took place on sleepless nights at headquarters. Where the risk of accidental death and the fear that they had not really lived took over, silencing all appropriate doubts. All those children were grown up enough to survive cryo, unlike Spider and Celeste. But although they had left Pandora, a trace of them remained.; a legacy from when the base still communicated regularly with planet Earth. Cartoons. Of them all, the little girl’s favorite was the Little Mermaid. A veritable obsession, Spider and Lo’ak would complain, earning a tugged smile from Neteyam and a frown from the child herself, for, from that moment on, legends about mermaids became her main interest.

“It is uncertain they exist, but here on Pandora there is a sea folk who are close to them.”

"As foolish as it may sounds, when I was growing up I wanted to find one.” Ao'nung let out an amused snort. “Silly, isn't it? They are an Earth legend, it's impossible to find them here on Pandora. Yet, the thing I wanted most in the world was to see one. Even if only from a distance. When Jake would take us to play near the coast, I would always stare out to sea, hoping to catch a glint of the sun bouncing off the scales. After all, what could have been more extraordinary than a fish-tailed human who could breathe underwater. It gave me an inexplicable sense of freedom, hope. I guess I wanted to be one of them to escape the reality of being born in the most inhospitable place possible for my species. A child who belonged to nothing and no one, confined behind a mask. You know, it was right around that time that I first heard about you. From Norm." "Norm?" "The scientist I came here with." The boy's lips drew a silent O. "Norm showed me documents about you, explaining your communion with the sea. How your bodies had adapted to swimming and apnea.”

"Like mermaids!" She commented ecstatically, with childlike wonder in her big brown eyes. Norm laughed, "Something like that.”

"I think you are the closest thing to a siren. Or a sea monster." He attempted with a sly expression to which the man replied with a smile and a quick shake of his head."From the way you describe them, there are female specimens." "On no, there are also tritons, their male counterparts. They just aren't mentioned often in fairy tales. In the past on Earth, role diversification was very pronounced between men and women. The latter were discriminated against to the point that they weren’t allowed so many things, including traveling by sea. Women aboard ships were said to bring bad luck." Ao'nung's disgusted expression said a lot about his opinion on the subject, Humans really are that stupid. Yet, he didn’t utter a word, preferring to keep listening. "Since legend has it that the people of the sea feed on human flesh-and the only seafaring people at that time were men-they were described as women of rare beauty and a bewitching voice. By singing they hypnotized sailors who, dragged underwater, drowned."

"You tawtute have interesting stories," he said dangerously close to her face in a melodious voice. "Sorry to disappoint you, but my legs do not turn into fishtails in the water, and my voice has no such power," he smiled cunningly, and Celeste was tempted to deny that last statement. "I do confirm, though, that I have a taste for human flesh. I could eat you in one mouthful."

Her heart lost a beat. The allussiveness at the bottom of his eyes made them a very dark shade, of the usual vibrant blue there was hardly a trace left. Ao'nung wanted her. Here and now. On that same beach that 

had been more often than she could count witness to their growing closeness. More than she wanted to admit. She would be lying if she claimed not to have noticed how the Na'vi looked at her, with a fondeness she was not used to. How his hands rested that extra moment on her. Perfect reflections of the behavior she also displayed toward him, unable to restrain herself. That candor was disarming though, totally unsuspected.

They weren’t just friends, that was evident by now.

But as she searched for something to say that was not unintelligible babble, he did something even more surprising. Gently he pulled Celeste onto his lap, with one hand encircling her back, and the other tilting her neck back just enough to bring her face close to his. And slowly, without ever looking away, he rested his forehead against the glass of the mask. He closed his eyes, inhaled and finally placed his lips against the surface. Parochial in the face, at first the girl did not know what to do, yet a little encouragement — Ao'nung's fingers pressing a little more on the nape of her neck — was enough to induce her to approach the glass. It was weird to describe what she felt. Despite the barrier, on the other side she felt the pressure of Ao'nung's kiss, his lips molding against the smooth surface.

Their first kiss. Just as strange as them.

She sensed him smiling against her lips as he returned the kiss. He sank his face into her neck and, for a long moment, the two just breathed, reveling in each other's warmth. After the gentle start, her fingers slid over his ankle and up his calf, then over the knee that brushed against his pelvis. Certain that no one would find them there, what was left of Celeste's clothes scattered across the sand. Believe it or not, Ao’nung was the sweetest man in the world in bed, cuddling her by whispering sweet nothings in her ear. Their bodies rocked together as they listened to the creaking of palm trees and the rustle of the sea sliding against the shoreline. And she melted in his strong arms, malleable as clay. There was something indescribable in the mischief that shone through his eyes, soon replaced by impatience as he laid her on the ground. Celeste shivered as he positioned himself between her legs. The coils of her stomach tensed as he brought her shins to the sides of his head and anchored himself to her thighs. It was very tender and affectionate the way he caressed her, "Don't hide from me." Slowly she opened her legs, allowing a glimpse of the folds, wet and glistening. She yearned so much for him to touch her, but even without speaking Ao'nung had already noticed, staring at her through impossibly black eyelashes. He slipped two fingers into his mouth, smeared them with saliva, and brought them back down to slide over her clitoris. Without warning he peeled back the fabric and pushed them inside, swirling them upward, and she gasped. He removed his fingers only to put them back in her mouth and swirled his tongue around to taste some of her flavors. He kept his eyes on her as he emitted a little mumbling around his phalanges, his 

smile was salacious, "Tasty." She was about to say his name when he lifted that last flap of fiber between them and purred. A small smile pressed against his knee pleased by such surrender. He kissed him softly, languidly, but when he dragged. his lips over her inner thigh, his voice was dangerously excited, "You don't know how long I've been waiting for this." She was breathing heavily, absolutely humiliated to be there, with her legs spread apart and her vulva squished in the face of the raven-haired man who seemed so eager to have that perfect face splattered with her. On the beach to boot. Ao'nung leaned forward, arms firmly hooked at her knees to block her movements, "Let me know when you're about to come," for a handful of fleeting seconds she let her heavenly smile return. He watched her features, savoring every single expression as she turned into a disaster of sobs and gasps, "I want to eat you.” Jaws teasing the elastic skin, tongue titillating her clitoris, phalanges rhythmically violating her, reveling in the way her heels tapped on his massive shoulders, how her back arched in unnatural poses. As his fingers churned in circular motions to stimulate that much sought-after spongy pad, she felt mounting inside her the nagging sensation of having to go to the bathroom, just at that crucial moment. She tightened her pelvic muscles. "A-ao'nung... s-stop… I have to p—" "It's squirt," quivered the man's voice, one corner of his mouth lifted higher than the other, staring at her so haughtily, so victoriously, "Relax, let go," he hissed.

"N-no, please, I'm not comfortable." "Making people uncomfortable is what I do best." He wanted a show. That sentence seemed to cast a spell on her, because with another hit, she felt something thicken in her pit, she clung to the boy's hair, "I can't hold it anymore!" The man lifted his fingers and, before she could lament the loss, replaced them with the tip of his tongue. His wet fingertips held her widened opening, diving between her thighs to devour her in a way that made her gasp and tug at her dark locks, "God, Nung... I'm going to...," escaped her by closing her knees around his head. Ao'nung growled upon hearing that new nickname as he lapped at every crevice between her walls. The tip of his nose brushed against her spongy nub continually, but only when he moaned did he decide to gather it between his lips, sucking it greedily; the same with which he moistened them when the spray hit him. The final stimulation he needed to climax. "At last," he exclaimed panting as he ravenously cleansed her. She felt the viscosity of her own arousal sticking in her inner-thigh where Ao'nung's moist cheeks brushed against her. She was stunned, breathless and exhausted as he rolled onto his back and laid Celeste on his chest. A proud smile colored his face. He stroked her chin, relieved to look him straight in the eye, those sharp, criminal eyes, and haphazardly dusted the grains of sand from her hair and later from her body.

Blissing in the warmth of the sun, the tenderness of his embrace, and the comfort of his heart, Celeste snuggled against his chest, closed her eyelids, and dozed off. A soft smile adorned her lips.

In Ao'nung's arms, she was finally home.

For the tattoo description I took inspiration from this AMAZING picture, created by the indescribably talented @cinetrix

Special thanks to @pandoraslxna for the prompt!

#avatar the way of water #avatar fanfiction #aonung #ao'nung #ao'nung x reader #ao'nung x fem!reader #ao'nung smut #ao'nung x you #avatar 2 #lunaskinktober2023 #aonung x reader #aonung smut #aonung fluff #aonung x you #atwow #avatar twow #avatar 2009 #avatar 2022 #avatar #james cameron avatar #avatar smut #avatar fic #avatar fluff #ao'nung fic #ao'nung fanfiction #ao'nung fluff #ao'nung x reader smut #ao'nung x female reader smut #ao'nung x oc #ao'nung x human reader

[outlaw-apologist]

Save Yourself | GN!Reader x Various (RDR2)

Summary: It’s the beginning of the end and gang members are starting to flee. Things are looking grim, fights are breaking out. Arthur begins to realize you’re in danger. However, he’s not entirely sure whose side you’re on. It’s time for an unfortunate conversation.

Multiple endings if a specific gang member is your lover

Pairings: Friend!Arthur, Arthur, Charles, Hosea, Javier, John, Kieran, Dutch

Warnings: Mentions of death,  Murfree Brood activities AO3 LINK

The air was so thick you couldn’t breathe. Was it the humidity of this shit-hole or the unsettling presence of iron and burnt skin wafting forward from the cave so rank you could almost taste it? Perhaps it was the mood everyone was simmering in now that betrayals have been made? You weren’t too sure, but it was hard to exist inside of. Whatever it was, it was only worsened by the heavy loss you held in your chest. Hosea, who had been a father figure in your life, and Lenny. Truth be told, you thought Sean’s death was pretty horrific. Never did you imagine you’d lose so many of your family in such a short period of time.

Molly’s death seemed to haunt everyone, even those who hated her. Was she a rat? Nobody could agree on an answer. To certain gang members it was a just cause and a good riddance; while to others it birthed paranoia in their minds that they, while innocent, may be next. You couldn’t sleep. Not that most of the gang could. Echoes of the Murfree Brood washed over Beaver’s Hollow all day and all night creating a sense of unease. They could return and attack at any moment. Slit your throats and skin you alive. Could you really trust those on guard duty when arguments are breaking out daily?

The line was being drawn in dirt before everyone eyes. Sides were being picked. You knew it was coming. Everyone did. It was hard to believe. Hard to accept. Everyone here… You love them all so much! Some more than others, but the fact still stands that these people have been your life and your family for years. This was all you knew. It scared you. Who were you without the gang? What would you do? Where would you go? That monstrous weight of reality sunk in while you watched Arthur physically remove Strauss from camp. No one said a word.

Because soon it’ll be their turn.

Because soon it’ll be yours.

Waiting for the other shoe to drop was agony. Frightened whispers were exchanged between the women as the men threw words like ‘brothers’, ‘loyalty’, ‘rat’, and ‘betrayal’ around violently. “It’ll be okay.” So many tried to comfort each other, but you know the truth. You know it’ll only get worse from here and it weighed heavy on your mind the past few nights while staying up listening to strange calls from the forest and arguments around the fire.

You didn’t know what to choose or where to go. You love everyone so much, life without them seemed terrifying. A loss within its self you’ll have to grieve hand in hand with the deaths. How could you do that to yourself when you’re already so down? Maybe dying with them would be best… You could tell Arthur’s nearing his end and he seems to know it too. Watching him die, watching everyone lose their heads trying to make sense of everything, knowing more deaths will come and not knowing who will be the next to go… Hell… It was hell.

“Looks like Trelawny is gone for good.” You gazed up as Arthur leaned against the tree across from where you were trying to read in an attempt to escape the reality of things. With a sigh you folded the book shut, studying Arthur’s pale face. It’s hard to believe this is the man who had been so strong for you all these years. Who was as healthy as a bounding deer only months ago. Seeing hin in such a state broke you in ways you couldn’t even describe.

“It’s probably for the best.” Was all you managed to say. It was hard but you tried to keep your feelings swallowed away. Arthur didn’t need that on his plate right now.

You were surprised when he bent down, meeting you at eye-level. “Ride with me.” There was no room for argument, it must be something serious. You both rose in silence, making your way through camp towards the horses. As you walked you couldn’t help but to check on Karen who was passed out drunk, making sure she won’t choke to death on her own spit while you’re gone. Jack waddled past the two of you. “Have you seen Kane? I can’t find him anywhere.” Your eyes scanned the area as you realized you too haven't seen the dog around for some time. “He might be out exploring. I’m sure he’ll come back.” Your words were little comfort for the boy who walked off with a pouted lip to ask someone else.

“It’ll be okay.” Arthur’s voice startled you out of your thoughts. He must’ve noticed a tint of darkness wash over your face. “I mean… It’s not okay, but we’ll make it okay.” Tired eyes searched your features. He was trying hard to understand where your head-space was at in all of this.

Pulling yourself into your saddle, you tugged the reigns of your horse. “I know. We always do the best we can, right?”

“That’s right.” Something in his voice gave way to his heart in this moment. He was just as torn up about all this as you were.

The ride was silent. You both just sat with your peace while riding towards the East Grizzlies. “I thought… Uh… We’d head up to O’Creagh’s Run. Maybe do some fishin’.”

“Sounds good, Arthur.”

“I had a friend up here, Hamish, he’s a funny guy. An old veteran who lost his leg. Found him on the side of the road one day while I was uh,” he shrugged, “wonderin’ around. Said his horse bucked him and took his false leg, asked me to get it back. After that he invited me to go huntin’ a few times. We had a nice talk, recalled our lives and the things we should’ve done different. That’s how I got Buell here.” Arthur pat Buell lovingly as he spoke. “Old Hamish didn’t make it back from one of our hunting trips, asked me to take care of him. How could I say no?” His voice was soft since Arthur switched from talking to you to talking to the horse himself.

A fond laugh found its way past your lips. Arthur loved animals so much, it was endearing. You could tell he cared greatly for Buell. “I did wonder when I saw Buell show up suddenly. Found a good match after Boadicea?”

“I think so.” He flashed you a brilliant smile. “I hate to think our time together might be cut short with all this-” He waved his hand as if motioning to some abstract thought-form created by Dutch’s recent behavior. “Boadicea was my girl. But Buell? Well, I think I can trust him to carry me for the rest of my days. He’s strong, stubborn-”

“Like you.” You interjected cheekily, causing Arthur to playfully roll his eyes.

“If you say so.”

Soon you came upon the lake and slowed your horses. Despite his physical state, Arthur still helped you down, giving you an affectionate pat on the back. “The real reason I wanted to bring you out here… Well… We need to have a talk, away from all this mess.” You could tell it was hard for him to get these words out. Arthur didn’t quite know exactly where you stand and a part of him was worried he’ll make the situation worse than it already is.

Your legs carried you until the front of your boots were licked by lapping water. This place is peaceful, you thought. Not muggy. Not decaying. Immediately you sucked in a deep inhale, allowing your lungs to fill with crisp clean mountain air. Deer bound across the other side of the lake and you can see colorful fish dart beneath the waters surface. In this moment you felt so much gratitude towards Arthur for taking you here. “This is a good place to have it, can probably keep my head straight here for once.”

He grunted in agreement. “I know what you mean. Beaver’s Hollow…”

“More like Beaver’s Shithole.” You sat a moment, screwing the components of your rod together before accepting the bait Arthur stretched out in the palm of his hand. He let out a hearty laugh which then dribbled into a coughing fit. Without a second thought you rubbed his back while passing over your water canteen.

“I’m fine.” He waved it away, wiping his mouth while his chest settled.

Silence spread over the shore. You and Arthur soaking in each other’s company. The only sounds that reached your ears for awhile were of your lines casting and the chattering ducks. “I wanted to ask you something.”

“Shoot.” You cocked your head to look up at Arthur. His eyes were trained on the water, as if trying to see something.

“Where’s your head at with all this? I mean Javier is…. And Bill hasn’t had a thought a day in his life, but he’s stayin’ with Dutch. Then there’s that business with Marston being broken out too early, there was talk of hanging him for Christ’s sake!”

“I know…” You paused, reflecting on the tone in Arthur’s voice. His heart is broken for his brothers. For his family. “I saw the way Dutch talked to you yesterday, couldn’t believe my own ears. Looks like Micah’s the golden child now.”

Arthur let out a mirthless laugh. “I said to John just the other day, looks like we don’t gotta worry about who Dutch’s favorite is anymore.”

“You went and blew that bridge up, right?”

“Yeah, we did it.”

“How’d that go?”

He shrugged. “Almost got ran over by a train, but it went as well as expected. Don’t know if this is the noise Dutch wanted. Seems idiotic if you ask me.”

“I’m gonna be honest Arthur, I don’t know what he’s thinking. I don’t understand any of this. New York? We hardly survived Saint Denis and that’s nothing compared to New York… It makes no damn sense. He gets pissed off when people treat us like a bunch of yokels but that’s who we are. That’s who we’ve always been.”

“Don’t I know it. But Dutch… He’s gone. He’s changed. I don’t know when it happened or why. I-” Arthur shook his head, eyes tilting up to watch the clouds float by, “I tried so hard to make sense of it all and I just can’t wrap my mind around it.”

“John mentioned he thinks it was the trolley accident but I remember even at Horseshoe, Hosea was calling him out on his bullshit. He started changing things then. The plan he had was good, was solid. If we had just gone West, back to our home… And bought some land we could’ve lived peaceful lives.” Old feelings of upset swelled in your belly as you reflected on your time camping out at Horseshoe Overlook. It now seemed as though it were a lifetime ago instead of mere months. You paused to let it settle before continuing. “Hosea knew then.”

Arthur’s eyes squinted and you could tell he too was recalling these moments. “I remember that. He said something to Marston, told him to get out while he can. Take Abigail and the boy and run far far away. Suppose he knew something was up before the rest of us did. Hosea knows Dutch best… knew…”

The correction made you both flinch. It still wasn’t real, Hosea being gone.

Thankfully attention was diverted when a fish tugged at your line. Jerking the rod sideways you quickly reeled it in with excitement. “I caught something!”

“Let’s see it.” Arthur leaned down to scoop your fish out of the water, showing off a nice pike. “Not bad.”

Pulling out the hook, you decided to stow the fish away. “Nice dinner, we’ll have to cook it before we head back, I don’t think Pearson would be happy with our fish haul.”

“Probably not.” Arthur mused. “I’ve seen him drinking recently. Karen too, poor Karen.”

“She hasn’t been the same since Sean.”

“None of us have, but she definitely took the worst of it. This whole thing… I guess we’re at the end now.” He side-eyed you in an attempt to measure your reaction. “You know, while we’re about all this…. I know it’s not easy but you should get yourself out. Start makin’ a plan, do something. I don’t want this to end with you gettin’ hurt.”

Anxiety shot through your heart like a streak of lightening across a pitch black sky. “Arthur-”

He said you name quietly in an effort to silence you. “There’s no way forward now and some distance between you and this will do you some good. You’ve been with us for a long time. Hell, we had a good run. But, John and I were talking, and I know you wanna stay loyal to Dutch, but we ain't the ones who changed. I’m afraid… well… I’m afraid Dutch’s gonna get you killed. Losing you ain’t worth all the money in the world.” The tears in Arthur’s eyes showed you just how much those words meant to him.

___

If Arthur is your friend/brother and you have no lover in the gang:

“Obviously I can’t tell you what to do and I don’t wanna force you to pick sides. Javier and Bill are our brothers and I don’t wanna fight them. You’re my family before everything else, before money, always. Get yourself out. Make a life for yourself.”

You stay silent, holding eye-contact with your long time friend. “Is this really how you feel?”

His head dipped down as he kicked at a stone. “It is.”

Nodding, you let out a tensed breath. “What about you?”

“I’ll be fine. Just- put yourself first. You worked yourself to death for this gang, that’s good enough. I don’t need to be burying you too. So get out of here. It doesn’t have to be now, it doesn’t have to be tonight.” You watched as Arthur fished a bill clip out of his bag. “When the time comes, take this and go.”

Taking the wad of cash, you flipped through seventy bucks. “Arthur, I don’t need your money.”

“Oh yes you do! Don’t pretend with me, I ain’t that stupid. How you gonna start a new life with ten cents to your name? Dutch has all our money, every last dime of it hidden somewhere out there. You take this and you make the best of it. I don’t need it anymore.”

You reached over, gently squeezing Arthur’s shoulder in solidarity. There was a moment where you both swapped fond smiles. “Thank you Arthur, truly.”

“Don’t mention it. Go somewhere and start right. No more of this life, got it?”

“Got it.”

“Now,” he picked up his rod again, “let’s catch me a fish so I don’t go hungry.” Arthur’s laugh rang out across the lake, sounding wonderful to your ears. There was something so bittersweet about this moment in time. The other shoe has dropped. This will probably be one of the last peaceful moments you’ll have with Arthur.

___

If Arthur is your lover:

You could feel your own oncoming tears now starting to burn the corners of your eyes yet not ready to spill. No… Not like this. This can’t be how things go. “Run away with me!” You blurted desperately.

Arthur seemed confused as you grabbed his hands, squeezing them tight as if you were afraid he would leave you. “What?”

“Run away with me, Arthur. We can… I don’t know. Get you somewhere warm and dry. I heard Colorado’s a great place for people with tuberculous. We can go West, just like we wanted. We can make a home for ourselves, get another dog.”

Arthur forced himself to turn away in an attempt to hide his tears, shaking his head while repeating your name like a mantra. “What about the rest of the gang?”

“They can come with us! Listen, we can make plans for everyone to slip away and make their escape. Then, if they want, they can join us again. We can get that land together. Build a house or two. That was our idea all along, right?” You gently pulled him towards you, wrapping your arms around his thin waist. God he had lost so much weight in the past month… “Arthur… Please look at me.”

“Christ.” Came Arthur’s trembling words. He finally looked at you. Crying. He wanted so desperately to have a life with you. A future. Reaching out he caressed your cheek. “It won’t work, sweetheart. Not with the price on my head. We’d be runnin’ forever and you need to get out of this life.”

You frantically searched his face, hopelessly trying to hold onto any crumb of information that might aid your racing mind. “Then… We’ll help everyone else get out and we hide in the Rocky Mountains. I heard the Pinkertons don’t bother searching anywhere past Telluride. Let’s go to Colorado city, it’s our kind of place. Real rough and the law is loose there.”

He scoffed, pulling away from you in frustration. “Damn it! Just stop. Why’dya gotta be so damn stubborn all the time?”

“Oh, I’m the stubborn one?”

“Look at me.” He raised his arms out, doing a little spin so you could take in all of him. “I ain’t making it to no Colorado city. I’m dying. It’s too late for me. But you? You have your whole life ahead of you.”

“Arthur-”

He interrupted you, words cutting like a knife. There was no changing his mind. “Get yourself that plot of land in the West. Somewhere nice, peaceful. Get yourself a hound, okay?” You hadn’t noticed in the heat of things; tears of frustration and heartache that were clouding your vision now fell freely over your rosy cheeks while Arthur pushed a huge wad of cash into your shaking hands. “There’s a thousand here.”

“A thousand?” You breathed, simply staring at the money. You made no move to count it or put it away. It was just too… surreal. Too fake. This couldn’t be happening…

“Should be enough. I can try to get you some more, but…” The flat of his palm dragged across his tear stained cheeks. “Don’t waste your life on me. Find a nice man to settle down with, you deserve that much. I can’t go with you… I wish I could I-”

“I don’t want to leave you.”

Arthur flinched at the heartbreak in your voice. This was just as hard on him as it was on you. “I know darlin’. But I rather die happy knowing you got out and you’re long gone before anything can happen to you. You can finally live the life I could never give you.” His large hand gently folded your fingers over the money and he guided you to your satchel, prompting you to tuck the money away safely. “Please… Please, this is all I ask.”

A gut wrenching sob ripped through your trembling form. All of your pent up negative feelings were rearing their ugly head, stampeding through you like wild horses until you completely broke. You found yourself in Arthur’s arms, sobbing miserably into his shoulder. “I love you.”

“I know.” His voice held just as much pain while he said your name and kissed your hair. “Now set me free. I’ll always love you, wherever you go. So leave.”

“Okay.” You whispered. “If this is what you really want, I’ll do it.”

“Thank you.”

___

If Charles is your lover:

“Charles has a good head on his shoulders. He and I’ve spoke about this and-”

Now it all made sense. “He asked you to talk to me.”

“He did.” Arthur confirmed. He gently said your name to draw your attention back towards him. “Look, I get why he’s worried. You’ve known me far longer than he’s known you. We’re family and you’re one loyal piece of work.”

It was hard to fight the small sad smile that made its way to your lips. “He wants out then?”

“Charles? Shit, he’s your partner. You know what he wants. He just doesn’t know if you’ll choose him or me.” Abandoning his rod, Arthur took out a pack of smokes, placing a cigarette between his lips. “Choose him.” He struck the match on the bottom of his boot only to flick it away once the cigarette was lit.

“Arthur-” You scoffed. “Charles knows what you and John mean to me. What this gang means to me. I know he won’t ask me to pick sides, but you and I’ve been together for far too long. It seems wrong if I don’t see this through with you ‘til the end….”

He simply shook his head. “This is the end. Everything beyond this is some fucked up story we ain’t got time for. Dutch’s twisted fairy-tale. I’m already on my way out a different route. Hell, even Marston’s realizing he needs to pack his family up and leave. You’re right about Charles, but to be frank, he shouldn’t have to ask you to pick sides. You choose him. You always choose him, you hear me?”

Arthur’s words dissipated into the air followed by a long silence as you tried to register everything being said. “I hear you.”

“Good.” He picked his rod back up, attempting to keep the fish interested by reeling it in a bit. “I’m happy for you, ya know? Out of all the men you could’ve ended up with I’m happy you’re with him. He’ll take care of you, treat you right.”

You gently elbowed him, wearing a shit eating grin. “Does that mean we have your blessing to marry?” You took delight as Arthur squinted at you.

“As if you need my blessing. But yeah, you have it.”

You both laughed and for awhile it was peaceful as you fished. “It still feels wrong.”

“I know it does. It is wrong, Dutch should’ve never gotten us in this situation to begin with.”

“And now I have to leave my brothers behind.” Even though they were your own words they shocked you as they reached your ears. Realization finally hit you like a fearful deer frozen in front of an oncoming train. “I don’t want this situation to be the last time I see you, Arthur.” You reached up to brush away a stray tear. “I can’t bear the thought of that.”

He hummed in appreciation. “I know. But we’re all leaving one way or another. I rather you leave right.” Shuffling beside you drew your attention over to him as he pulled a bill clip from his satchel. “It ain’t much but Charles is a capable man. I’m sure this’ll last you long enough.”

You counted out fifty dollars. “Arthur-”

“Don’t you say you can’t go accepting my money. You can and you will. Charles sure as hell won’t. That doesn’t change the fact that you need money to survive.” He eyed you almost threateningly. “Put that way before I make you.”

There was no arguing with him, you knew better and so the money disappeared into your bag without fuss. “Thank you. For always taking care of me. I wish you could come with us, I know Charles feels the same.”

Arthur simply shook his head. “I have a lot of unfinished business to take care of. And, if I’m honest, I’ll sleep better at night knowing you got out safe before anything gets worse.” He took a final drag of his cigarette before stomping it out, then he pulled you into a tight embrace. “You live a good life for me, okay?”

A shaky breath rattled your body while you hugged him for dear life. God, did you love this man. He always cared about you before anything else. “Okay. I will.” The promise was true to your heart. Anything for Arthur.

You two stayed hugging for awhile until a tug on Arthur’s line diverted the emotional tension. “Looks like I got dinner!” He giddily grabbed at the pole, reeling it in. “Check out the size of this one! You sir, are a fish.”

You couldn’t help but to laugh and admire the way the setting sun illuminated him. There Arthur was, one of the most genuine human beings you’ve ever met. Your heart swelled with love and adoration for him in that moment, just appreciating it for what it is. This will be one of your last core memories with him, you thought. Might as well make it last.

___

If Hosea was your lover:

“I know you stayed loyal to us because of Hosea, but… I think he’d want you out.”

It was hard considering what Hosea would want for you in this situation. He had wanted you out since Blackwater but you insisted he should stay with his found family… The family that got him killed. Not that you blamed Arthur and John, but you weren’t stupid. You knew Hosea didn’t feel great about the bank robbery and you knew Dutch played his hand. There was a time you were upset with Arthur for not taking Hosea’s side that evening, yet you had seen how much guilt riddled him already and so any harsh feelings fell away almost as quickly as they began.

“He would. He did.” You finally spoke, idly playing with a loose strand of your hair. “But I know if he were here he’d want to make sure you boys were safe. I can’t do that to him. I want to fulfill his wishes if I can.”

Arthur scoffed, shaking his head while cursing your name beneath his breath. “Don’t do this to yourself. Look at’cha,” he motioned to you, “you’re exhausted. You’re miserable. You need to go. Before Dutch decides his dear old friend’s lover is a rat or- whatever’s going on now. Don’t stay in this mess on his account. That’s what got him shot. He should’ve left with you when he had the chance.”

“There’s no point in should’ve’s Mr. Morgan.” Arthur’s face softened when he realized you’re on the verge of tears.

“I know.” He said quickly, voice dropping to a harmless tone. It wasn’t Arthur’s intention to drag you down further. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. I just want you to understand.”

“The message is loud and clear.” You sat yourself on a nice rock, needing something solid beneath you in an attempt to help ground your raging feelings. “Hosea loves you boys so much. I love you boys… And the girls too, of course. I guess… I feel like I have a responsibility to make sure you’re all okay.”

Arthur stepped forward and bent down to meet you at your level respectfully. “Thank you. I truly do mean that, but you’ll get yourself killed. Now, how are John and I supposed to live knowing Hosea would beat our ass for letting you get hurt? I know it’s scary. Hell, it’s scary for me too. Hosea’s gone. He made it out his own way. It’s only right you go too. Live your life for him, it’ll make him happy.”

You looked down when Arthur placed something in your hands. “You’re giving me this?”

“Sorry it ain’t much, but you’ll need the money. Abigail snatched up Hosea’s savings before they moved camp, gave it to me in case I wanted to put it in the box but it only seems right if you have it. This is your money now.” He gently squeezed your hand, flashing a tired yet genuine smile. “Thank you for making Hosea happy for all these years. We had a good run.”

You searched his fatigued face, taking note of how genuine Arthur looked. His eyes heavy with pain and his smile was somber from old memories. “Yeah,” you breathed out a mirthless laugh, “we did.” It was truly over now. Time to let go. “I know there’s nothing I can do for you, Arthur. That’s why you’ve been so quiet with everyone, isn’t it? Because it’s bad…. Hosea, he-” Your fingers idly played with the dollar bills in your hands. “Well, you know. He was sick for awhile. Not sure if it’s what you have or not but- He lived quite long.”

“He did. Not as long as he should have, but you’re right. Can’t say I have the same fortune as he had, or maybe I do in another sick way. I don’t know. All of this is confusing. Despite everything, one thing has been clear to me for some time now. You belong somewhere you can build a nice peaceful life. I don’t know exactly what I believe in just yet, but I do know… Wherever Hosea is, if he can look down at you and know you’re safe and happy, then that’s enough.”

No longer could your tears be held back. You let out a soft cry, leaning down to rest your forehead on Arthur’s shoulder “Thank you Arthur. I wish I could do more… Just… Please keep him company until I can come home to him.”

“You have my word.”

____

If Javier is your lover:

“I won’t stop you if you choose to stay. I know your loyalties probably lie more with Javier than Dutch himself, but Javier is… Well…. He’s something else. I ain’t gonna lie, it hurts knowing this is what he’s choosing.”

You nodded slowly, seeming to understand what Arthur meant. He and Javier have been brothers long before you joined the gang. It must be hard knowing a bond like that was being broken. Javier himself has been devastated Arthur and John aren’t on his side.

“After everything Javier’s been though… I don’t think he can picture a life without Dutch. Whether he’s giving too much importance to him in his life or not, it’s not my place to say.” You turned kind eyes towards Arthur. “Just know there’s more to this than loyalty. This is bringing up a lot of feelings in him and I don’t think he knows what to do with them. Somewhere along the way Dutch become his safe place.”

Arthur hums slowly, squinting as he listened. “I’m not sure I fully get what you mean, but I think I understand. I’m just worried is all.”

“You and me both.” You sighed, staring up at the orange sky. Your eyes followed the darkening clouds as night approached. “If I’m honest, I don’t know what to do. I can’t lose Javi... He’s my everything.”

“I know. I can’t even begin to imagine how you feel. I know your relationship is none of my business, I just can’t help but to worry about you. Javier ain’t got his head on straight and I’m afraid Dutch’ll have the barrel of his gun right at your temple while Javier’s swearing he won’t shoot you. I don’t know how much he can be trusted right now and I mean no offense by that. He’s my brother, and you’re my family same as him.”

Arthur rubbed the sweat from his brow before continuing. “I’m not gonna tell you to leave him or nothin’ like that. Just… Make yourself scarce for awhile. Get out of the line of fire. Javier’ll find you again. Come what may, he does love you.”

It killed you to consider something like this. Everything was happening so fast it was frightening. There’s even a small part of you that fears someone will claim you’re a rat and you’ll end up with a bullet in your skull. If that happened… would Javier watch you die with disgust on his face? Or would he be heartbroken for you, his lover?

You know Javier would never hurt you. He’s always been sweet on you, so much so the camp used to playfully make sick noises whenever they ran into you two… It’s hard to believe that wasn’t so long ago, when you were all friends and jokes were harmless. You hated how things became. You finally got your Javi back from Guarma and now… This all must be so traumatic for him. It sure was for you.

“Arthur… If I leave it’ll destroy him.” You finally look down, electing to study a rock beside your shoe. “I can’t do that to him.”

Arthur was silent for a long time. You could tell this decision pained him. He’s always been someone who cared deeply for you and your well-being. “Okay.” It was such a simple response, yet it was not uttered lightly. Arthur knew there was nothing he could do. “Just pretend I didn’t say anything.”

You gently pressed your elbow to his arm in an attempt to lighten his mood. “And Arthur?” He grunted in response. “Thank you for always being such a good friend. I’m sorry it’s come to this. I hate seeing you two fight. I know you’re doing the best you can and it hasn’t been easy on you… Just… Thank you.”

A warm arm embraced you in a side hug, causing you to look up at Arthur’s smiling face. He really did just want you to be happy. “Don’t worry about it. Just catch me a fish. I’m hungry!”

“Huh?” You laughed, wiggling out of the hug. “What makes you think I’m catching your dinner?”

“You’re the one who knows Javier’s secret fishing techniques. I’m sure you can manage.”

Maybe this decision isn’t the right one. You didn’t know. But, for now, you enjoy the last moments of happiness with your dear old friend, Arthur Morgan.

_____

If John is your lover:

“Your relationship is none of my business. I know you and John are sweet on each other, but I also know he cares for that boy and his mother. If you can… take them with you. Maybe some good can come out of Jack’s life.”

You took time to consider Arthur’s words carefully. “I hate that everything’s so complicated.” You admit. “I know our relationship ain’t the most proper thing to do, but you can’t choose who you fall in love with.”

“I know-” Arthur laughed a little followed by a few body shaking coughs. “Maybe I fell in love with the wrong people, I don’t know. But I get what you mean. Love is complicated business.”

“Jack, he’s… Such a cute kid. John already told me Abigail might know where Dutch hid the money… I understand she’s not fond of me and I don’t blame her. I’m worried she might only help herself and Jack.”

“Abigail? No, she’s not like that.” Arthur’s hands came to rest on his gun belt while he took you in, giving you a gentle smile. “Even if she did, she has every right to. That boy should come first.”

“I can’t argue with that.”

“You and John will be fine. You’re a good shot and he’s… A mangy coyote of sorts.”

Arthur’s comment amused you enough for a chuckle to pass your lips. Your eyes settle on the ducks resting across the shore for awhile, watching them prune themselves. Life as a duck must be so peaceful, you thought. They only had to worry about surviving… Then again maybe you and the ducks were one in the same. In the end everything is just trying to survive, including you. “You don’t think John’ll leave me to save Abigail and Jack, do you?”

“I don’t know,” he confessed, “but what I do know is that he loves you. At least, I think he does. It’s hard to tell with him sometimes. After he left Abigail and Jack like that… I’m glad he realizes he messed up. But… Marston…” Shaking his head, Arthur slowly began reeling in his lure in hopes it would invite a fish to his hook. “My best advice is to get friendly with Abigail and all three of you make a plan together. Don’t try to go it alone, it’ll only make things harder.

You nodded in understanding. “I love Jack, I really do. Every day I hear him ask Abigail why everyone’s being so mean and it breaks my heart. He shouldn’t have to grow up like this. And John… Well, of course I want him out too. He almost died for Dutch’s foolishness. Dutch could’ve saved him in Saint Denis!”

“I agree with you, but maybe it was a blessin’ in disguise.”

You scoffed, brows furrowing with both upset and confusion. “How can you say that, Arthur!?”

He held his hand up in surrender, signaling that he meant nothing nasty by it. “Our boat sank to the bottom of the ocean. The chaos was so great, I’m not sure if I could’ve grabbed Marston before the damn thing went under. You know he can’t swim. I’m glad he was in prison than with us. If he was there… You can break a man outta prison but you can’t break a man outta death.”

Shoulders falling, you searched Arthur’s face. It was easy to get lost in your feelings nowadays but you knew Arthur’s words rang true. So much gratitude was held in your heart for Arthur Morgan. Saving John all those times… You didn’t know what would happen without him. “I know I haven’t said it enough, Arthur, but you’re a good friend.”

“Maybe sometimes, but not always.” He gave you a knowing look, offering a small smile to show he appreciated your words. “Take care of them for me, okay? Make sure Marston stays straight and Jack has a good life.”

“I will.” You promised.

____

If Kieran was your lover

“I’m surprised you stuck with us for this long after….” Arthur trailed off. He was struggling to figure out the right way to bring him up. “Kieran was a good kid. I didn’t know him well but I liked him enough. I know you loved him a lot and he was real sweet on you… After what happened to him... After you watched…” He fell silent again, afraid he’ll say the wrong thing. “Look, all I’m sayin’ is maybe it’s time to find somewhere peaceful.”

You searched Arthur’s face, desperation reflecting on your own. “But… Where will I go?”

“I don’t know.”

“How will I make money?”

“I’ll give you some money, so don’t worry about that. I’ll find something for you. We’ll figure it out. It’s the least I can do after all this mess. Kieran didn’t deserve what happened to him. If you want to watch Colm swing you’re welcome to come with us, but I doubt that’s any business you wanna stick your nose in. I’m sure there’ll be plenty of O’Driscoll boys there.”

You sucked in a shaky breath, eyes clouding up at the very thought of your beloved Kieran. What a gentle soul with his whole life ripped away from him. You two had spoken about maybe one day owning a stable together, or trying to make a life for the both of you… Those dreams shattered your heart these past few months. The image of his death still haunts you. “I’ll thank about it.” You responded to Arthur’s hanging comment. You weren’t sure if you wanted to see any more death. “I’m going to be honest… I don’t know if there’s anything out there for me.”

“Sure there is.” Arthur gently nudged you in a brotherly way. “I know it’s hard to see the future now, but Kieran had big plans for the both of you, didn’t he? You can still do that if you want. Wherever he is, I’m sure that would make him mighty happy. Or- uh… I don’t know… We’ll figure something out.”

Imagining yourself surrounded by beautiful horses made you smile. “It would be peaceful. I could use a little peace in my life after all this.”

“Yeah, me too.” He chuckled. “Whatever you decide now you don’t have to do that forever. Just take each day at a time. But one things for certain, you need to leave.”

“I know.” Your voice shook with emotion. “This has all been scary and I feel so overwhelmed.”

Stepping sideways, Arthur wrapped an arm around you and pulled you into a warm side hug. He rubbed your arm in an attempt to soothe your fears. He wasn’t good at comforting people but he hoped this would do something. “Hell, I feel the same way. But we’ll get you taken care of. Don’t you worry.”

“Thank you, Arthur. I’ll try to be strong. I think… I want to live the life Kieran always wanted but never had. And maybe… If he’s ever here with me… He’ll be able to enjoy it too.”

“That sounds nice. I think you’re right, I’m sure he’d love it.” Arthur’s blessing lifted a weight off your shoulders. He was one of the few members of the gang you trusted with your life. If he agreed it would be good for you then it must be the right choice.

Calmness washed over you for the first time in days. Your gaze met the clouds, wondering if Kieran could see you right now. “Then it’s settled.” You decided. “I’ll pack tonight.”

____

If Dutch is your lover

“I know you love him.” Arthur gently placed a hand on your shoulder, giving it a little squeeze. “Dutch is.. was my family. But all this insanity…”

You immediately pulled away from Arthur. You weren't upset with him, Dutch had been treating you coldly too. But to think your Dutch wasn’t the man you loved anymore was terrifying. What happened to him? Was everything a lie? Did Dutch sell you a dream? It made you ill trying to make sense of everything. Arthur pulled you out of your thoughts by gently calling your name.

“Look, I’m sorry but after Molly they’re already looking for someone else to be the rat. Now, I don’t know if we have a rat or not, but if we do it sure as hell ain’t you. Bill’s been talkin’. His words don’t mean much to anyone with half a brain but Micah’s starting to agree with him and now those words are gettin’ into Dutch’s ears. I don’t want to see anything bad happen to you.”

Your jaw dropped in disbelief. “They’re saying all that… About me?” A dark look washed over Arthur’s face confirming his truthfulness. Fear froze your blood ice cold. Suddenly you were hit with a silent understanding that you probably won’t make it out of this alive even if you didn’t want to betray Dutch. “Shit!”

“I know.” A weary sigh left Arthur’s lips. “The girls in camp are real worried about you. Molly loved Dutch in her own special way, look where that got her.”

Wrapping your arms around yourself in an attempt to find comfort, you stared at the ground in contemplation. “I know... Shit, Arthur! Dutch… The Dutch I know is such a loving man. Someone who always wanted to do right by everyone, who wanted to see orphans taken off the streets. This isn’t him.”

“Look at me.” Arthur murmured your name so you’d raise your head. “That Dutch is gone. I wish it weren’t the case, but it is.”

“Is he still in there?”

“I don’t know. If he is… He’s buried deep inside. I can’t see him no more and I tried… I really tried.”

“I can’t give up now! I-” You trailed off in an attempt to swallow down the cries that wanted to escape your lips. “After Hosea, I’m afraid of leaving him alone.”

Arthur understood. You could tell he felt similarly and that this was destroying him as much as it was destroying you. “It’s hard. I hate going against him like this, he’s all I’ve ever know. I wish there was a way to… Uh…. I don’t know… But we can’t risk it. I can’t make you do anything you don’t wanna do. All I’m saying is that it might be better to cut your losses. Leave now so you can remember Dutch as the savior you knew instead of the man he became.”

“Betrayal is out of the question even if I don’t wanna stay.”

“C’mon now. That’s not true.” You could hear the groan in his voice. “You stayed loyal far longer than you needed to. Sometimes things just end. Knowing when to step away isn’t betrayal.”

“I guess.” Your finger brushed against your cheek to catch a falling tear. “I don’t know what happened to him, Arthur. I miss him so much. All I want is my Dutch back.”

Arthur abandoned his pole to pull you into a tight hug. Such a simple gesture, you hadn’t been hugged in so long. You didn’t even realize how badly you needed a hug until your emotions broke through your walls. He gently rubbed your back as you wept openly into his shoulder. Arthur’s voice was soft and soothing while he spoke. “Me too. But he ain’t comin’ back. I wish he was… Believe me. We’ll have to do the best we can. We’ll get through this. Just consider it, alright? That’s all I ask.”

“Alright.” You whispered, holding onto him for dear life. You couldn’t bear the thought of your family falling away just yet. Trying to dismiss your anxiety you close your eyes and take in a shaky breath. All the crying in the world won’t help you. It was over whether you liked it or not.

You felt gratitude towards Arthur for being so patient with you. He held you until you felt well enough. “Now, let’s get you that fish dinner.” You could feel the rumble of laughter in Arthur’s chest as he responded heartily with ‘Gladly!’. Dutch was gone, but it made you feel better that you at least still had Arthur.

#Arthur Morgan x Reader #Charles Smith x reader #john marston x reader #Dutch van der linde x reader #Hosea Matthews x reader #kieran duffy x reader #javier escuella x reader #Arthur Morgan #Charles Smith #john marston #dutch van der linde #hosea matthews #javier escuella #kieran duffy #rdr2 #rdr2 x reader #reader insert #writing #my writing

[ecoamerica]

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

#ACLA24 #ACLA24Leaders #youtube #youtube video #climate leaders #climate solutions #climate action #climate and environment #climate #climate change #climate and health #climate blog #climate justice #climate news #weather and climate #environmental news #environment #environmental awareness #environment and health #environmental #environmental issues #environmental justice #environment protection #environmental health #Youtube

[multifariousqueer]

My Blood- Miles Morales x reader

A/n: y’all better prep for this. This might be the darkest fic I’ve ever written but it’s good. Keep requesting and have a good day❤️

Warnings: mentions of death, grief, angst, mentions of blood, you sobbing 24/7, major angst warnings, it’s just sad man

It seemed the fight went on for a millennia. Miles throwing punches, kicks, venom strikes and none of it seemed to work. This guy was just too powerful and too determined, even for Miles. Every kick and punch just seemed to exhaust Miles more than it did to help, the villain just kept making holes and disorienting him.

“You took everything from me, now; I’m gonna take everyone and everything from you” the ominous voice said to Miles

His voice filled Miles’ head and projected his evil plan. Images of you falling to your death and just as Miles catches you, your spine snaps from the impact, killing you. More horrible images were implanted in Miles’ head of his father saving a child at his own expense, being crushed by rubble. The villains voice echoing in Miles’ head and the horrible images were enough to knock your boyfriend off kilter just long enough for the villain to stab Miles in his stomach. As he felt his vision blur, he saw the villain wave and disappear, leaving Miles to bleed out. Fortunately, he was able to sling a web and come over to your dorm.

It was a warm, summer day; school ending soon and you packing and saying your goodbyes when you heard a harsh knock at your window. You almost didn’t answer it because Miles’ knocks were taps and playful but this sounded pained, like a struggling animal. You ran to your window when you saw him; his suit had a growing stain where there was a piece of glass stuck in it, the eyes on his mask were squinted and he looked like he was dying.

“MILES, Que pasa? What happened? Oh my God you’re bleeding!” You screamed, tears flooding your eyes and slipping down your cheeks as you saw your boyfriend, near death

“ah- mami it’s okay. You can patch it up okay? Everything is okay.” he said in a pained whisper

You did your best to get him out of his suit, cutting around where the shard was and doing your best to not hurt him even though it was impossible. You slipped off his mask to see a black eye, a cut lip and small cuts littering the rest of his face, even with this, he was still the most gorgeous man you’d ever seen and you were so lucky to have him.

When you finally saw the wound, you realized this wasn’t something you could fix. A deep gash, littered with purple around it as it slowly dripped out Miles’ blood greeted you and you knew this could be a mortal wound. Miles kept trying to stay awake for you but he was slipping in and out of conciseness and you did everything you could to relieve him, you iced around the wound, cleaned around it and held it. Eventually you couldn’t take it and neither could he:

“Miles baby we have to go to the hospital"

“no mami no. I’ll be okay-“ Miles started before squinting and slumping over.

“MILES??” You cried, fearing this could be the end.

You dialed 911 and told them the situation, however, they asked how he got hurt like this and you lied saying he was ambushed by gang members. Miles had his eyes closed as he tried to not slump over and die but he could feel his heart slowing and his mind slipping away. All he could do in this time was think about you and what would happen to you and his parents if he died; that was the only thing keeping him from accepting his demise.

After the longest three minutes of your life, they wheeled Miles out on a stretcher and asked you about the gang members that assaulted your beloved and you made up some lie about their faces being covered with shiesty masks. That was enough for them and they saw how scared you were and let you ride with him in the ambulance. Just then, his dad came and saw what was going on:

“Miles? MILES?? THATS MY SON LET ME THROUGH I AM CAPTAIN” He shouted through the crowd of people and health officials.

“Mr. Morales?” you said, through tears. He pulled you into an embrace as you both exchanged tears

“Y/n, what happened?” He asked

“I-I don’t know, he just came home like this” you said, technically it wasn’t a lie

“I’m calling Rio” he said.

When Rio got the call, she fell to her knees and sobbed. She rushed outside to grab a cab before asking how you were. Even in times of peril, you could still count on the fact that the Morales family loved you like one of their own.

The ambulance arrived to the hospital quickly as Miles had an oxygen mask on. His eyes were fluttering open and shut as you held his hand and placed a kiss on his knuckles, like he would do to you all the time. You reflected on all of the memories and on all of the moments you two shared together; birthdays, holidays, regular days, school days and the hour when he left you:

“Miles baby be safe. Come home to me, mi Corazon. Te amo” you said, pressing your nose to his and connecting your foreheads for a moment. You always did this and it was your tradition before he went out for a mission

“I’ll come home, hermosa. I promise, I’ll be okay. I love you too” Miles said before pressing a final kiss on your lips and pulling down his mask.

A tear fell down your face as you whispered into his hand:

“God please, I know I don’t worship as much as I should but please, spare the love of my life, I can’t live without him” you said, shaking a bit

“Do you wanna say a prayer, y/n” Jeff asked you

“yeah sure.” as you two said a prayer, hanging onto each of Miles’ hands.

Before you knew it, he was being wheeled into the emergency room where they stripped him and prepped him for surgery. As y’all got out, the nurse told you guys you couldn’t go any further:

“I’m sorry but he is in critical condition and we can’t allow people back there right now. We will give updates as they come” the nurse said

“I’m his father, his mother is on the way, she is a nurse here” Jeff said

“And I’m his girlfriend. He is also my best friend.” you said, feeling slightly inferior

“Okay, good to know and my name is Yelena if you need anything at all” the nurse said

“okay” you and Jeff said in unison

It seemed like you were waiting a lifetime but Rio came in and you guys exchanged words and greetings:

“I remember when he was a small boy. He would always color on the walls and I would tell him ‘parar, Miles!’ and he would say ‘lo siento, mami’ and I would kiss him on the face for using Spanish properly” she chuckled

“so he was always artistic?” you asked with a faint smile

Rio smiled and nodded, wiping a tear from her face as she rubbed your back. You leaned into her because even though she wasn’t your real mom, she never showed it, she treated you like you were her own, even when you and Miles would fight. It seemed that the idea of fighting with Miles was both a luxury and an absurdity.

“Can you guys follow me, please?” Yelena asked

You all followed her to a small room; you knew what this was seeing as whenever someone in your family was about to die, they would take you here and prepare you for the worst.

“So Miles isn’t doing good. We have him on a ventilator and he’s in a coma due to blood loss, we can try to give him a transfusion and medications but it isn’t looking too good. Then again things can change but right now, prepare for the worst” the nurse said grimly

You all sobbed as you couldn’t believe it. This time yesterday, you were on top of him, laughing, and now he was dying. It seemed unfair, like a fever dream you were dying to awake from but it was real. This entire experience was sobering and you were about to lose your soulmate, your, friend, your Miles

Miles POV:

I woke up in a white room, it looks just like my room just white. Pictures of my family, friends and Y/n were scattered about and the only things in color.

“Am I dead?” I questioned

Suddenly, I heard a knock on the door and in walked a man that looked strikingly familiar:

“Uncle Aaron?"

#mcu fanfiction #miles morales x y/n #miles morales x reader #miles morales headcannons #miles morales #miles x reader #across the spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #spiderman #across the spiderverse spoilers #spiderman into the spiderverse #into the spider verse #this is so sad #damn I cooked with this #spiderverse #across the spiderverse fanart #miles molares #marvel #foryou #miles!spiderman

[ereardon]

That Summer Part Ten [Bradley Bradshaw x Reader]

A Bradley Bradshaw AU

Synopsis: One night during the summer you turned eighteen, you woke up to a surprise. Your father, a retired Navy Admiral, had posted bail for the son of a former colleague who was now orphaned and had gotten himself mixed up with the law. Instead of letting him get lost in the judicial system, your father signed himself up as Bradley Bradshaw’s guardian to prevent him from going to juvie. You were explicitly told to stay away from the boy in the attic room. But as the summer went on, you and Bradley struck up an unlikely friendship that turned into a forbidden relationship. Bradley tipped your world upside down, challenging everything you had once thought you knew. How could the two of you think it would end any differently than it did when your father called the cops the night he found the two of you in bed together?

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Reader 

Warnings: Cursing, angst, alcohol, smut, police

Chapter summary: Y/N and Bradley deal with the aftermath of the debutant ball; the two spend their last night together

Wordcount: 3.2K

Series masterlist here; Part Nine here

A large figure stepped forward, casting a shadow from the lights and blocking part of your view. “Get out.” 

Pierce frowned. “What?” 

You recognized the shadow. Your father nodded at Bradley before grabbing the back of Pierce’s tux near the neck like he was a kitten getting dragged around by its mother. “You fucking lay a hand on my daughter ever again and I’ll make sure you’re in jail. Now get the fuck out of here.” He practically tossed Pierce toward his parents. 

The room felt like it was spinning. Even the band had stopped playing. It was just you, wearing a stupid white dress, staring at the mess in front of you. 

Your father watched as Pierce’s parents ushered him off toward the door at the side of the room. His eyes were raging when he turned to you. “Pumpkin,” he said quietly, one hand between your shoulders, “time to go.” 

“But–”

“No buts,” he said. “Bradley, come on, you too.” 

You hung your head as your father escorted you off the dance floor toward the door that Pierce and his parents had just exited out of. Bradley was on your heels. Even from a room away, you could feel your mother’s stare boring holes into the back of your dress. You were shocked the material didn’t just singe and fall right off, leaving you naked in the middle of the dance floor. Not that being naked would change how embarrassing this all was. 

“Daddy, I–” 

Your father shook his head. “Not now, Y/N. We’ll meet you two at home.” 

You nodded. Bradley’s brown eyes flicked to yours and he tipped his head. You followed him out to the car, sliding into the passenger seat, head pressed back against the headrest. “What the fuck just happened?” 

Bradley turned the key in the ignition. “Exactly what was always bound to happen, Birdy. I ruined it. I ruined everything.” 

“No.” You turned to look at him. Bradley’s hands were gripping the wheel tightly. “Bradley, stop it. This wasn’t your fault. This was Pierce. That mangy little shit.” 

He shook his head. “It was me. If you had just gone to the dance with someone else, someone who was an actual match, this would never have happened.” 

“I’m glad it happened,” you said and Bradley’s open mouth was caught in the headlights of an oncoming car. Surprise. Shock. “Seriously. Fuck them, fuck all of them. I never realized how fucked all of this was until you got here. If they can’t accept one outsider, what is this all?” 

Bradley sighed. “It’s always going to be like this, Birdy. They know it. I know it. When are you going to realize that you can’t fix it?” 

You closed your eyes. “I have to try,” you whispered. “I might not be able to fix it. But I have to try. Because if it comes down to you or them, it’s you, Bradley. It’s always going to be you.” 

Bradley gripped the steering wheel so hard he thought it might burst into flames or disintegrate into powder. He loved you enough that it hurt. 

Knowing that one day, soon, it was going to all come crashing down. That the two of you existed in just a small slice of time. That there was no going forward and no going back. It was here, now, and that was it. 

Everything else was just white space. 

***

Back at the house, all of the lights were off except the ones in your father’s study. 

“Y/N.” His voice boomed as you and Bradley slipped through the front door. You stood with your heels dangling from your fingertips. “Come inside.” 

You ducked your head, walking toward the study. Bradley shifted toward the stairs and your father’s voice caught him. 

“Bradley. Stay down here, please. I want to talk to you next.” 

The study was cold and you found yourself shivering as you sat down on the dimpled leather couch across from your parents. Your mother’s face was stoic. Cold. 

“Y/N,” your father said, standing next to the chair your mother sat in, his hand loosely gripping a rocks glass. “Tell me the truth. Is there something going on between you and Bradley?” 

“We’re friends.” 

“Friends?” 

You nodded. “He’s my friend. You said to be a good neighbor and that’s what I’m doing.” 

Your mother scoffed. “Daniel. She’s lying. Look at her.” 

Your palms started to sweat. “Mama, I–” 

“Mama.” She shook her head in disgust. “You only do that when you’re in trouble. And you’re in trouble, Y/N, if you’ve even thought about crossing the line with that boy.” 

“Evelyn.” Her name on your father’s lips made her clam up. “Let Y/N tell us her side of the story.” 

Both sets of eyes turned to you. You felt heavy under their gaze. “There’s no story. Pierce has liked me for years but I’m not interested in him. He got jealous that I said I’d go with anyone else, and he was drunk. That’s it, that’s the only thing that happened.” 

Your mother squinted. “Tell us the truth. Have you fooled around with that boy?” 

Bradley, you wanted to say. His name is Bradley. Instead, you lied. “No.”

“Are you sure?” 

Your father interrupted. “She answered your question, Evelyn. Let’s trust her answer.” He looked at you and shook his head. “Go to bed, Y/N. It’s been a long day. We can talk more tomorrow.” 

You nodded and stood up, reaching for the door. 

“Send Bradley in,” he added. “You and your mother can go to bed.” 

Your mother followed you out the door. Bradley looked up from the darkened foyer and you nodded. He skimmed past you, hand just barely brushing the skirt of your dress. Your father closed the door behind the two of them, plunging you and your mother into darkness. 

She turned on a light that illuminated the staircase and crossed her arms over her chest. 

“I hope you’re telling us the truth,” she said quietly, “or else you’re going to send this family into ruin.”

And then she was gone, disappearing down the hallway. You watched her go before climbing the stairs. It felt like you were climbing toward purgatory. 

***

Bradley hated your father’s study. It felt like a mafia boss scene from a movie. Dark leather sofas, bar cart, the wooden built-in shelves everywhere you looked. 

And then your father, standing by the empty fireplace, scotch in hand, mouth tied in a tight line. 

“I’d like for you to tell me your side of the story, son. From the beginning.” 

Bradley took a deep breath. He couldn’t screw this up. He couldn’t let it all crumble. 

Once he was done, your father rattled the glass in his hand and sat down on the couch opposite Bradley. He lifted his gaze until his eyes were locked on Bradley’s brown ones. “I’m only going to ask this one time. Are you in love with my daughter?” 

Bradley felt the air in the room freeze despite the August heat. Sweat dotted his hairline. He pressed his fingers into the fabric of his dress pants. 

What could he say? Admit that he loved you. That you were the only person who made life worth living. Explain that you had changed absolutely everything for him. That he would go to the ends of the earth to keep you safe. That one look from you could turn his entire mood around. 

But admitting that he loved you would be signing the death warrant on your relationship. And if he vowed to never hurt you, to keep you safe, to love you for the rest of his days, he couldn’t tell him. He couldn’t tell anyone, but you. 

So he had to lie. And hope that it would suffice. Even if the hiding felt like the worst lie he had ever told. Even if it broke him. 

Bradley shook his head. “No, sir, I’m not. We’re friends, that’s all. I would never violate your trust like that. You took me in, and I’m extremely grateful. To you, and Mrs. Sullivan, and Y/N.” 

Your father took a sip of his drink, never blinking. Once he set it down, he nodded. Bradley let out a sharp breath. “She’s the only thing I have,” he said, “that is worth anything. One day you’ll have a daughter and you’ll know. It’s your job to protect her. Keep her safe. Make sure she does everything right. Everything you failed to do correctly the first time. Make sure she finds a man who loves her and treats her right. Watch her start a family of her own. Know that no matter what you’ve done, no matter what you failed at, she turned out alright. Your children are just your heart, walking outside of your body, Bradley. You sign it away the day they’re born and you never get it back. Y/N, she’s my heart. And it’s my job to protect her, no matter what.”

“I understand, sir.” 

He stood up and Bradley followed suit. “You protected my heart tonight,” your father added, softer this time. He placed one hand on Bradley’s shoulder. “I’m grateful.” 

Bradley nodded. 

“Goodnight, son,” he said, walking Bradley to the door. “Do me a favor? Watch out for her. She’s not as strong as she thinks she is.” 

And then he shut the door and Bradley was alone in the foyer once again. He looked up the long stairwell toward the second floor. How many more nights did he have in this house? How many more nights did he have with you? As Bradley climbed the stairs, slowly, anxiously, he felt a pull. It was the knowledge that you were up there, waiting for him. That you were the one who could set him free. 

You turned as Bradley nudged the door open. Just your head creaked around as you sat on the edge of the bed facing the window and the water below, white silky dress fanned out around your hips, white satin gloves still suctioned to your hands and arms. 

“Did he?” 

Bradley shook his head and you let out a sigh of relief, hanging your head. He crossed the room, standing above you. “Birdy?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I love you,” he whispered. 

“I love you, too.” You frowned. 

Bradley sucked in a deep breath. “But I don’t think this is fair to you.” 

“What are you saying?” 

“I don’t want to be the reason you get in trouble, Y/N,” Bradley said softly. “I’m not worth it.” 

You stood up, placing one hand on each of his cheeks. “Yes, you are. Don’t say that you’re not.” 

He tried to shake his head and you held him sternly. “I don’t care if this all blows up in my face. It’s worth it. You’re worth it.” 

“What could you possibly see in me?” he asked. 

“I see you.”

“That can’t be enough.” His voice was thin. Barely a whisper. 

“Bradley.” He raised his eyes to look at you. “When are you going to realize that you’re absolutely enough?” 

And then your lips were on his. He tasted like rum and sadness and you wanted to wrap him up tightly, make sure he knew you would never let him go. 

You pulled away, turning around slowly. “Unzip me.” 

It was slow. Like you had all the time in the world. Wordlessly you let Bradley unzip your dress. Your eyes never left his as you stepped out of the white silk, letting it pool on the floor, standing in front of him in only a pair of panties and your silk gloves. 

He let you slide off his bowtie, unbutton the stiff white buttons of his shirt, unzip his pants, lead him to the bed quietly. 

You whimpered softly as Bradley traced the lines of your body with his fingertips before pressing inside of you, breaking you open, claiming you as his own. It was just him, filling you, over and over, his lips on yours, his moans bleeding into your own, and the two of you were a tangle of limbs and sighs and shudders until everything was still. 

After, you lay wrapped in his arms, the sweat on your skin cooling from the air flowing through the fan. You tipped your head to the side and looked up at him. “Do you think your mom knows about us?” you asked softly. 

“I do,” Bradley replied. 

“Would she be happy that we’re together?” 

He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, nestling his lips close to your temple. “You were the one thing that has always been missing. She would know that in a heartbeat.” 

You fell asleep, held together by Bradley’s embrace. 

In the morning, with the sunlight streaming in on your face, you sat up. 

The bed was empty. And for a fleeting moment, you realized what it would be like to lose him. 

For a moment, you thought maybe it had all been a dream. 

***

You got sloppy. That was the first thing you thought when it all fell apart. 

All summer you had been careful to click the lock on your door. Make sure you and Bradley didn’t hold lingering gazes in front of your parents. 

You never saw the shadow shifting behind the windows as darkness spilled around the house. You never once stopped to think that Louise had seen you.

The second thought you had was that you didn’t even know who you were anymore without Bradley. 

That without him, you might not be able to survive. 

***

The water was cold as it rushed over your limbs. You laughed. A true, genuine laugh. Head tipped back, hair slipping down beneath the inky surface of the ocean. When you looked up, Bradley was smiling at you, his teeth seemingly brighter from the light of the full moon. 

“You look happy,” he said. 

You swam over to him, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders. “I am.” 

“Good,” he whispered. “I like seeing you happy.” 

Your thumb slid down his cheek. “I never realized until you came along that I wasn’t actually happy. I was complacent.” 

“But now?” 

“Now,” you murmured, “I really am happy.” 

He smiled and you inched closer, sealing your lips over his, feeling the waterline bob around your shoulders, brushing against your jaw as Bradley’s hands held onto your waist. “Let’s go inside,” he said softly. 

You untangled yourself, dashing out toward shore, grabbing your clothes from the beach, shaking out the sand. “I’ll race you.” 

Bradley took off, long limbs taking him further, and you laughed, the sound echoing out against the sand dunes, as the two of you rushed toward the house. Your wet footsteps marked the side stairs, the living room, trailing up the stairs toward your bedroom. 

You could barely peel yourself off of Bradley long enough to shower. He chuckled when you pulled him in under the stream of water, running your fingers through his hair, spreading shampoo along his hairline, massaging it in softly. 

Bradley held you carefully as the two of you tripped back toward the bed. You held in quiet moans as Bradley parted between your legs, licking through your folds, his tongue dancing on your clit, causing you to see stars as you vibrated on the bed. 

He grunted as you hiked your leg over his hip, pulling him in close as his cock plunged deep inside of you, his lips pressed against yours, swallowing your moans. 

Your fingertips dragged down his back, clawing at him, bringing him closer, hips rising off of the bed to meet his thrusts. 

You leaned back, Bradley’s brown eyes finding yours. You watched as he broke apart, holding him close as he collapsed on your chest, crying out as you came around his stilled cock, walls pulsating as you held him gently, afraid to let him go. 

The two of you didn’t even bother to clean up. Instead, you simply pulled the thin sheet over your sweaty bodies, Bradley opening his arms and letting you sink down against him. 

“What if we stayed like this forever?” you whispered. 

“Still wouldn’t be long enough,” Bradley murmured, fingers stroking softly down your bare arm. 

“Come with me,” you said, turning to him. “To California.” 

“And do what?” 

“Anything. Whatever you want to do. I just can’t lose you.” 

Bradley threaded his fingers in yours, the coolness of his mother’s wedding on your finger brushing against his skin. “I can’t lose you either, Birdy.” 

“So will you come with me?” 

Bradley nodded. “Yeah, I’ll come.” 

You grinned, rolling over, kissing him again. He was warm and familiar and you wondered how you had ever lived without knowing Bradley Bradshaw. 

Bradley smiled, lips pulling up at the corners, your smaller hands warm against his bare skin. He was going home. 

And this time, he would take you with him. 

***

It took you a moment to register what was happening. 

One moment you were asleep, peacefully, in Bradley’s arms. 

The next moment there was a barrage of noise and lights and chaos. You felt hands on your arms, someone dragging you to standing, forcing you into a robe, the bright overhead lights burning your eyes. 

When you opened them, it was hell. 

Your mother’s hands pushing, hard, against your skin, tightening the robe around your bare body. Your father, standing in the doorway, eyes hard, as he supervised a cop, the same one who had arrived that first night with Bradley, carting him away. 

You watched in horror as the police officer dragged Bradley from the bed, his bare limbs dragging on the ground as he turned around, one arm outstretched. 

Reaching for you. 

You lurched from your mother’s grasp, running to Bradley, circling your arms around his neck, clinging for dear life. 

“Stop, stop!” you screamed but they were already peeling you two apart, your father’s hands prying your fingers off of Bradley’s skin, holding you back. 

“It’s OK,” Bradley said softly, his eyes glued to yours as the police officer tossed clothes at him, twisting his arm around his back, “Birdy, it’s OK. Let me go. I promise it’ll be OK.” 

“No.” You shook your head, tears swelling in your eyes like the tide at dawn. 

“It’ll be alright,” he said as the cop placed one hand on the back of Bradley’s head, turning him, pushing him out into the hallway. “I’ll see you soon.” 

"Stop it!" you yelled. "Where are you taking him? Bradley! Bradley!"

You screamed. And screamed. The scream never ended. Not as they carted Bradley outside. Not when you collapsed at your father’s feet in a pool of tears. Not when you heard the door close or the police car drive off. 

You screamed until there was nothing left. Until the only thing you could hear was Bradley’s voice in the back of your mind, like a ghost. 

Something that would haunt you for the rest of your life.

A/N: This is the second to last chapter of this series! Next chapter we'll pick up from where the series started, approximately 12 years later.

Tag list (or turn on notifications for my library page @ereardon):

@double-j @topguncultleader @hangmandruigandmav @blue-aconite @minamisulemisa @shawnsblue @seresinhangmanjake @babyminghao @crthurston @shanimallina87 @teacupsandtopgun

@angelbabyange @taytaylala12 @mizzzpink @wkndwlff @mygyn @sadpetalsstuff @xoxabs88xox @averyhotchner @oneelleandaneye

@rosewritesitout @atarmychick007 @khaylin27 @wittywhispers @wildlyobserving @eyesthatroll @localhockeygirl @xomrsalliej4787xo @rosiahills22 @teacupsandtopgun @sexytholland @djs8891 @rxmtoon @cactajuice @purplevortexx @dempy @lemur46 @louie-bug @arson-tm @valkyrja-siren-blog @avengers-fixation @fudge13 @a-court-of-roscoe-and-baby @not-two-shrimp @abaker74 @evans-dejong

@eli2447 @ducks118 @cherrycola27 @leigh70 @hotellnights

@babyminghao @taytaylala12 @bradshawseresinbabe @theweekndhistorybook @mandylove1000 @avengersfan25

#bradley rooster x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw fic #rooster fanfic #rooster imagine #rooster top gun #rooster x reader #bradley x reader #top gun imagine #top gun x reader #top gun maverick imagine #top gun fanfiction #reader fic #bradley bradshaw au #rooster au #that summer #bradley bradshaw x reader #hurt/comfort #bradley bradshaw smut #rooster smut #bradley bradshaw fanfiction

[schweety]

i've been bitching about the ending non-stop so i sat down and thought about how i would've ended it, so here are my thoughts (unhinged)

first and foremost: hiyori's death

how i would have done it: she had an unique status as an half-ayakashi. a few chaps back, when she was almost sucked into that hole, i wholly believed adachitoka was planning for her to go to the underworld to meet izanami. i'd have loved to see her meet the goddess of death, somehow get the info on how to break the koto no ha (as izanami is surely still mad at father), making a promise to her to bring father to her and then return to the near shore (as she's half-human) to kill father without having to die for the melodrama of it all.

and to make her return to her body, yato'd have had to cut their ties once and for all, making her forget about him (this would have been just as emotional and dramatic as her death!)

second: the whole heaven arc

i would've shown at least SOMETHING about heaven (like a covenant) officially pardoning bishamon and co. and amaterasu announcing that heaven had to change their ways in order to never let anything like this happen again. amaterasu saw first-hand what corruption could lead to and an insight into her mind, her thoughts and learnings all brought to her by yato would've resolved at least some of the loose threads from the heaven arc.

third: god's greatest secret

this wasn't resolved at all by adachitoka. kazuma and yukine have been touched by GGS and lived! nice, but what about the secret as a whole? honestly, all gods should be deadly afraid of them bc of this and not allow their shinkis to hang with them at all lol.

the whole point of GGS was that the painful, regretful death of their past lives would corrupt a shinki. the solution to this whole thing, in my eyes? break the taboo as a whole. not sure how exactly i'd have handled this, but if all shinkis knew their past lives, they could start healing each other together, playing back into the famous quote that ,,only humans can help humans'', which shinki are. ofc, this would need like a whole arc of itself so the ending in the manga is fine, i guess. they just don't rly talk about it lol.

fourth: father

OOOH what wasted potential! he was so complex and then they went ''haha, bad guy go blubblub'' which i honestly don't even mind at all. but i'd have added at least one scene of him meeting izanami back in the underworld, with her wearing kaya's face once again. he'd hear kaya's words ''to let it go'' one last time before he accepts his death and failure, embracing izanami and meeting his end therem eternal limbo. it'd have been a deserved death, bc he was (comically) evil and did terrible things but with some more context and depth to his character (which he always had!).

fifth, yato's lifeline (the most important one)

the literal plotpoint of the manga was yato being recognized as a god by the people. the whole twitter debacle was funny, yeah, but oh so cheap.

i personally would've loved for him to realize, after saving hiyori, that he actually wasn't disappearing at all, making him realize that there were people believing in him (like masaomi). they could've cut back to the little boy with his cat, who still thought about yato as his saviour, or to the girl he saved in chapter 1, who remembered a god that had brought her happiness. he'd have realized that, while bringing calamity, he had also been a god of fortune to them all the time. would've been such a nice, full circle and such a good pointe to this whole lifeline thematic and another realization that father had been lying to him all along. BUT NO. TWITTER SAVED HIM. hsuiahfsdufhudzshf

and lastly, the timeskip:

honestly? i liked this about the chap. showing hiyori as a doctor, her thriving, i was so happy! i would've kept that. also i like the fact that yato hid her diary from her, in order to let her live her life after cutting their ties, peak drama, mwah!

of course, she remembers him, i loved how his name formed on her lips and boom, there he was, on the tree

i would've added a convo, something, anything!!! they haven't talked in yrs (real-time!) so they should've exchanged words, a hug, WHATEVER, accepting their love for each other, accepting that she has to live on on the near shore, as much as it dooms their relationship. some frigging acknowledgment of their feelings for each other, come on!

also, yatorine reunion, before we cut to the end page where hiyori writes in her diary about yato.

the rest? i was fine with. take has a good end, bishamon has a good end, nora especially won! i liked these points but like… everything else i pointed out? too sad we're left with these threads hanging loose, i guess :(

#noragami #noragami spoilers #i haven't written anything this long since uni so uh #you can see how badly this is affecting me #my shizz #i have a headache

[satansapostle6]

Kids | Rodrick Heffley

Spotify Playlist Link

Rodrick Heffley becomes obsessed when he finally meets his thirty-five year old band mate, Bill Walter’s, younger sister.

Warnings: Mature themes/language. Sexual content.

“Black Hole Sun”

“This Night Has Opened My Eyes”

Rodrick hadn’t gone to school for almost a whole week. No one had even seen him apart from his father and brothers(he had been refusing to acknowledge his mother’s presence ever since the incident).

Susan had since apologized for what she’d said about and to Sara Walter, but Rodrick refused to accept her many apologies so long as they didn’t include an admission of guilt. Although Susan was sympathetic to his pain, she still did not quite apologize for her role in the re-traumatizing of Sara, who still hadn’t spoken to him since everything that had happened at the Heffley house.

There was a gentle knock on Rodrick Heffley’s bedroom door as his father entered the room with dinner, concerned.

“Rodrick,” Frank Heffley said, cautiously entering room.

“Go away,” Rodrick mumbled, hidden under blankets and pillows alike.

“I brought you some spaghetti, and garlic bread,” he attempted entice him. “Your mom made your favorite.”

“Tell her I’m not hungry,” Rodrick said emptily.

“Rodrick. You haven’t eaten since last night,” his father stated, concerned. “You need to eat something. I’m getting concerned.”

“I’m not hungry,” he repeated.

Frank sighed, sitting down at the edge of the bed. “This isn’t healthy… Is there something else you’re hungry for? Maybe I can go pick something up.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“I’ll get you Taco Bell. Or McDonald’s! How does a happy meal sound?” he asked hopefully.

But Rodrick didn’t seem very receptive.

“What am I, four?”

“It was worth a shot.”

Frank looked at the lump beneath the covers, fully aware Rodrick hadn’t showered in about two days, and was so upset he refused to even listen to music, any music: it just all reminded him too much of Sara.

“Look, I know Your mom’s really sorry about what happened the other day. She’s apologized multiple times now, you know,” he reminded him.

“No, she hasn’t,” Rodrick insisted. “Not really.”

Rodrick heard nothing as Frank remained in the room for another moment, setting the plate of food down on the floor before silently leaving. Rodrick thought he knew where his father was going; back downstairs, and eventually upstairs again for bed, but he was wrong.

“I’m stepping out,” Frank Heffley announced to his family, before grabbing his jacket and leaving.

“For what?” Susan Heffley questioned, not receiving an answer.

*****

Frank knocked on the door, praying for an answer. After a few moments, the door opened, as he whispered a frantic thanks to whatever beings did or didn’t exist. But another obstacle was revealed.

“What do you want?” a voice said coldly.

“Bill,” Frank realized, immediately feeling incredibly guilty.

“That’s me,” Bill said stiffly.

Clearly, he’d heard everything, or at least enough.

“Bill, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he sighed, hanging his head in shame.

“Don’t tell me,” he responded laconically.

“See, that’s what I could use your help with,” Frank said, thrilled to be finally getting somewhere, “I want to tell your sister. Please.”

“Why should I let anyone in your family anywhere near her?” Bill demanded, his paternal instincts toward his younger sister kicking in. “All you Heffleys do is judge people, and hurt people. My sister’s barely left her room in a fucking week, and she won’t drink anything that’s not wine, or vodka.”

“Yes, I know,” Frank promised him humbly, “But I wanna fix that… Please. Just let me speak to her,” he begged Bill.

“Why? So you can just call us white trash again?” he asked expectantly.

“Words cannot express how awful I feel about that, Bill,” Frank breathed. “I know that Susan and I have both spoken ill about your family on multiple occasions… and I know that I’ve never made an effort to make you feel welcome in our home even though you’ve always been nothing but kind to us. It’s unfair, and I’m sorry,” he apologized.

Bill still had nothing to say as he studied him, wondering whether the apology was sincere.

“You and your sister have proven to be nothing but friends to our family, and we’ve spat in your faces every time,” Frank said guiltily. “I know I can’t make up for that kind of close-minded, immature behavior… But I wanna try. Please,” he begged.

Bill Walter stood there, silent, for a moment, considering his options before eventually opening the door out of kindness, despite the fact that he probably didn’t deserve it.

“Fine. If not for me, then for my sister.”

“Yes! Thank you! Thank you so much!” Frank gasped, eagerly following him inside.

“Who’s this asshole?” Randy called from his armchair.

“He’s probably thinking the same thing!” Bill shouted back as he silently led Frank to Sara’s bedroom.

Frank looked back awkwardly at the unpleasant man, not quite sure what to think. Bill knocked on his younger sister’s door, waiting for a response. “Sara?”

“Yeah?” she called.

“…Mr. Heffley’s here to see you,” Bill informed her.

“…Huh?”

“Mr. Heffley’s here to see you,” he echoed. “He wants to apologize. He seems pretty serious about it…”

Sara quickly opened her bedroom door, seeming to have been laying on her bed, drawing. Frank couldn’t help notice with his keen father’s eyes that she looked awful; her hair was a mess, her makeup didn’t look like it was all applied today, and beneath her eyes, black smudges were married with dark circles.

“Does he?” she asked sharply, cold eyes fixed on Frank.

“Yes,” the man nodded earnestly, “He does.”

Sara studied him for a moment, before turning back to her brother. “Leave us.”

“Are you sure?” Bill asked skeptically.

“Yeah,” she nodded, eyes fixed on Frank as Bill just walked away, knowing better than to question his sister.

Sara opened the door wider as Frank gingerly stepped inside, not knowing how to go about this interaction. She shut the door, crossing her arms expectantly.

“How are you doing, Sara?” he asked kindly, genuinely worried after having seen the state of her.

“I haven’t slept in three days,” she remarked. “So. Let’s hear it,” she said, sounding less confrontational than Frank had anticipated, given that she was more than entitled to her feelings of rage.

“Sara, I… I want to apologize. For Susan, and for myself,” he said slowly as she just listened. “We were judgmental, and unwelcoming, and unfair.”

“‘We’?” Sara asked.

“I’m equally to blame,” Frank nodded earnestly. “I should’ve stepped in more whenever Susan got angry at you. You did nothing to deserve that.”

“You’re right,” she said softly.

“Listen… I don’t want you to think we haven’t noticed the difference you’ve made in Rodrick’s life lately,” he told her. “Because we do. I do. He’s happier, and calmer, and he cares more, about school, and his brothers…”

“Then why did Susan say I’m a bad influence?” Sara demanded, as Frank prepared himself for the question.

“Sara…” he was afraid he didn’t have the words in his vocabulary to explain why she had been made his family’s scapegoat. “Rodrick and his mother have always had a very complicated relationship. She wants the best for him, and he wants her to back off,” Frank said.

“You know I’m not the best,” Sara reminded him. “I’ll never be.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” he interjected logically.

Sara paused for a moment, taking in what he said.

“Look, I know about what you and Rodrick do; you’re kids; both of you. Of course you’re gonna do all that stuff,” he admitted.

“But?”

“But, Sara, you’re a good kid,” Frank told her. “…My sons love you. All of them,” he expressed.

Sara’s gaze softened as she took in his point.

“Manny adores you; you’re one of the only people he still lets pick him up. And Greg thinks very highly of you,” he continued, “Greg’s thirteen; he doesn’t think highly of anything.”

“What’s your point?” she asked quietly.

“My point is, that we’ve taken you for granted,” Frank summarized. “Your influence on Rodrick, and our family, has only been positive, if anything.”

“And what do you want me to do?” she asked tearfully, a look of frustration in her bloodshot eyes. “Your wife hates me.”

“No, she doesn’t,” Frank insisted sympathetically, “She doesn’t know you.”

“She doesn’t want to,” Sara insisted. “She thinks I’m trash. End of story.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” Frank tried to convince her as she just stood there, a pained expression on her face. “Sara. Do you really want this to be the end of you and Rodrick?”

She was silent as she considered his question, her chest tightening.

“I’m not saying the two of you will definitely last forever,” Frank offered thoughtfully, trying to sound realistic, “But… is a little conflict gonna stop you from finding out for sure?” he asked, hopeful that she’d listen.

Sara looked up at Frank, a pain in the child’s eyes he wished he could heal.

“You can leave now,” she said with finality.

Frank tilted his head in confusion, unsure of what to make of her sudden conclusion of their conversation.

“Sara.”

“You said your piece,” she stated, looking more tired than anything. “I heard what you have to say.”

He was strangely shocked by her response.

“If you want me to go, I’ll go,” he agreed reluctantly, respecting her wishes with his hand on the doorknob. “But, remember. If you break Rodrick’s heart, our whole family goes down with him. That’s the kind of family we are.”

Sara’s eyes followed him as he left the room, leaving her to her thoughts.

*****

“This sucks,” Greg Heffley sighed, watching the edit of his and Rowley’s video of them on their bikes at the skatepark.

“Why can’t we get it right?” Rowley complained pitifully.

“Because. Sara always helps with these,” Greg reminded him as he flopped down onto his bed. “She always helps pick the clips, and the music.”

“We know good music,” Rowley insisted optimistically.

“No, we don’t,” Greg gave up. “Not like Sara. And even if we did, we still wouldn’t be able to use it as good as her.”

“What do we do to get her back?” his friend asked.

“Get a new mom?” Greg offered the only suggestion he could come up with.

He found he had meant that a bit too much.

“I miss Sara. Having you and Rodrick is like having brothers,” Rowley thought wistfully, “But having Sara is like having a sister.”

“Yeah,” Greg agreed, feeling the words deeply.

The two of them were sharing a rather melancholy moment, at least before their silence was drowned out by the increasing sounds of screaming coming from the garage. Rodrick and the guys had been practicing for their gig this weekend at a backyard party, and it seemed like they were reaching for peak of their song. Until it didn’t.

“Dude!”

“What the fuck?!”

“-Some dumb ass fucking shit—!”

Greg looked around in confusion as he tried to rational the snippets that he was hearing coming from downstairs.

“Are they fighting?” he wondered out loud.

“They play metal,” Rowley reminded him.

“No, this is different from that,” Greg said, leaving to go check on his brother’s band.

Rowley followed him down to the garage, and it seemed he was right. Something was going on between Rodrick, Chris, and Ben, worse than anything that had happened in a while.

“Fuck you, you’re being a fucking asshole!” Ben shouted angrily.

“Should we be down here?” Rowley questioned anxiously.

Greg just ignored him as they watched from the doorway. The guys hadn’t even noticed them, they were so caught up in the drama.

“I’m not an asshole, you’re just a fucking dick, dude!” Rodrick shouted back, seeming genuinely upset.

“Whatever!” Ben cried. “Your set list is shit!”

“Guys, let’s all just chill! I think everything’s getting a little outta hand,” Bill reminded his band mates.

“Yeah, guys, let’s chill,” Chris agreed, also uncomfortable.

“Shut the fuck up, Chris!” Ben snapped.

“Hey, you shut the fuck up,” Rodrick demanded, suddenly threatening him with an abandoned drumstick, “Or I’m gonna fucking snap your neck—!”

Greg turned in horror to see his mother hurriedly rushing past him and Rowley.

“Hey, what is going on here?!” Susan questioned.

“Nothing, Mom, Ben’s just about to get rocked.”

“Rodrick Heffley, don’t you hit anyone in this house!” Susan scolded him.

“Right,” Rodrick nodded, not missing a beat, “Let’s take this outside, you little bitch!”

“Rodrick!” Susan Heffley shrieked.

“Everybody, let’s just take a fucking chill pill!” Bill exclaimed, extremely tense.

“Don’t tell me to fucking calm down, this is my house!” Rodrick shouted over him.

“Actually, this is my house, and I will not tolerate violence, or frankly, any of the language that’s being used!” Susan interrupted.

Rodrick glared at Ben with a hatred that had been building up and simmering for years, chucking one of the drumsticks in his hand over Ben’s head.

“Rodrick!” Susan cried, horrified at his behavior. “Don’t throw things at people!”

Greg and Rowley watched, kind of scared, as the situation began to escalate.

“Yeah! Listen to your mommy, Rodrick!” Ben taunted. “Don’t throw things at people!”

“Fuck you, you fucking loser!” he boomed.

“Rodrick! Upstairs, now!” Susan yelled.

“Come on, Rod!” Ben jeered. “Be a good little bitch!”

“Ben, shut the fuck up!” Chris said impatiently.

“I’ll make you my bitch!” he fired back.

“Guys! Enough!” Bill began to lose his temper.

“All of you, there are other people in this house,” Susan reminded them, “If you can’t be respectful, then leave.”

“We’re really sorry, Mrs. Heffley,” Bill apologized hastily as he eyed all of his band mates, “We’ll stop bothering you guys. It won’t happen again.”

“Sorry, Mrs. Heffley,” Chris added courteously, “We’ll stop.”

“Yeah, we’ll be quiet, Mrs. Heffley,” Ben promised, completely full of shit.

She eyed the group of boys skeptically before deciding to take their word for it. “Okay. But one more disturbance, and none of you are welcome here ever again. Got it?” she asked the room.

“Got it,” Bill promised.

“Yes,” Chris assured her kindly.

“Got it,” Ben nodded.

“Okay. Thank you,” Susan said, slowly turning around as she wanted nothing to do with the group of boys.

Rodrick, who had been silent and plotting the entire time, glowered hatefully in Ben’s direction before making up his mind and chucking the one lone drumstick left in his hand straight at Ben’s head, which was met with an immediate hothead reaction.

“You fucking piece of shit!” Ben hollered as a fully fledged fight broke out.

Before anyone could do anything, Ben was charging Rodrick, who had decided to go all in and angrily leapt over the drum set at him and tackled him to the ground with a loud thrashing of the cymbals. Chris was in shock and Bill jumped in, almost dog piling on top of them to pull Rodrick off of Ben.

Susan screamed for her husband as Greg and Rowley froze, no clue as to what they were supposed to do. Rowley was spooked like a cat, and Greg found himself having a desire to go home despite already being there.

“I don’t like this!” Rowley wailed.

“Me neither,” Greg agreed, not having much else to offer.

But Rowley was completely distraught.

“Sara wouldn’t let this happen!”

-

“Losing My Religion”

#rodrick heffley #rodrick fanfic #rodrick rules #rodrick x reader #doawk rodrick #diary of a wimpy kid rodrick #doawk #diary of a wimpy kid #rodrick x y/n #rodrick heffley x y/n #rodrick heffley x reader #devon bostick

[niyana-the-ambiguous-mobian]

You know that Luca short, Ciao Alberto, where Alberto tries to bond with Massimo and it ends with them accepting each other as father and son? I think that could apply well with Tom and either Tails or Knuckles, because on the one hand, Knuckles has a hole in his heart where his biological father once was, but on the other hand, Tails never had the best experience with people before meeting Sonic.

God, I’ve seen that short too and HONESTLY I CAN PICTURE IT IN MY HEAD.

I feel like it could be better for Knuckles on this instance if we’re including THAT SCENE near the end of it, instead of what Alberto said, maybe Knuckles is more insistent on doing more heavy lifting or work whenever Tom is about to do it, he’s gotten more used to being around him that he’s trying to have Tom as often not leave cause he immediately feels the huge absence of his presence

Tom realizes this and tries to console the echidna about it but the guy isn’t hearing it, leading the two to go back and forth to where it almost gets a little heated, causing Tom to question why he is acting this way.

“I just don’t want you to leave again, father!”

They are both stunned, not knowing what to say to the other. Knuckles keeps his head lowered, to scared in his thoughts to even move, Tom lets out a sigh and gingerly touches his arm, causing Knuckles to flinch a bit but he still looks at him.

“I remember missing my dad too, even when I was around your age. Even if he said he would “be back sooner than I thought”, it still didn’t make the feeling go away until he was back safe at home.”

"But, there was one thing that he taught me to do whenever I felt anxious and scared whenever he wasn’t around."

Knuckles tilted his head. "What was it?"

Tom takes his hand and gently clasps it with Knuckles' hand, bringing both hands to his chest.

"He would tell me, remember the way my heart gives its beat." He then moves the hands to Knuckles' chest, "and remember the way your heart gives a beat. Whenever you feel like you miss me, just listen to the beating of your heart with my heart and always be beating alongside yours even when we're miles apart."

Knuckles blinks. "And did it work, for you?"

The man gives him a smile. "That depends, do you feel calm?"

"Yes."

"Do you feel safe?"

"Yes."

"Do you still feel upset?"

"...yes."

"Then it worked."

He paused and looked up at him in surprise and awe. "H-how did you know that would work?"

Tom gave him a quick wink. "Parents always have a bit of magic to help their kids. It's our job to share that magic so you can have it when we're not around."

"That's astounding."

He gave Knuckles a pat on his head. "It definitely is."

#asks answered #anonymous #tom wachowski #knuckles wachowski #scu knuckles

[raflovestuffs]

Blame's on me

Here's the story I'm finally done writing thanks to the help of my friend who helped me a LOT. This fic was a big challenge for me because I never wrote about the Avatar universe. But I felt in love with Jake and Neytiri's kids in ATWOW. Their story and the tragic ending moved me. And I felt the need to write about how Lo'ak finally accept he's not responsible of his brother's death. I need this comfort fic so I wrote it. And I was inspired by so many people in this fandom! I thank them for helping me making this fic the best possible.

Finally, here are two songs that inspired me to describe Lo'ak's emotions: Blame by Graves and Blame's on me by Alexander Stewart which gave the name of this one shot.

Also I did some of the prompts @movietimegirl shared :)

I hope you'll enjoy this story as much as I do. Please give me feedbacks so I can know what you thought of it! See you soon folks!

...

Alone. 

Misunderstood.

As far back as he could remember, Lo'ak had always felt all alone.

But his brother was dead. And now he felt the loneliness more than ever. He realized that, before today, he had never really been alone. Neteyam had always been by his side. And it took his death to realize that.

Neteyam, his lifelong protector, had died protecting him one last time. He would have to go on without him. And it was all his fault, he knew it. If he hadn't forced him to go back for Spider, Neteyam wouldn't have been shot, and he would still be alive.

Although Lo'ak had always felt left out, Neteyam had always been there for him and often made up for his mistakes. His habit of putting himself in danger had killed his brother. He would never forgive himself. 

All the events of the last few months came back to his mind in succession. Lo'ak regularly endangered his brothers and sisters. He had deliberately disobeyed his father to retrieve weapons during the maglev raid, and his brother had almost died in the attack. Then he had endangered his sisters and even Spider by taking them to the old shack where they had met Quaritch... he couldn't help but feel that he was the reason for their escape. At least, taking refuge within the Metkayina clan had allowed him to meet Tsireya and Payakan. But then again, during the battle, Lo'ak had left his sisters in the hands of Quaritch, and they had all nearly drowned... All the mistakes that he didn’t see.

"You've done enough." 

His father was right. 

Neteyam died because of him. He knew it was too late for apologies. It was all his fault. 

"Alien, that’s all they see."

His brother had tried to love him when he hated himself. Lo'ak was an outcast, they were all right to reject him.

He was no good for anyone. His presence only hurt the others. Everyone was probably better off without him anyway. He had seen the pain in his mother's eyes. He knew that his presence alone reminded her that he was the only reason for her immeasurable sadness. And he didn't want to inflict that on her. 

So Lo'ak stayed alone, in a far corner of the village. He took refuge near the mangroves, a place with dense vegetation where he could vanish without trace. But it was at the foot of the mangroves that he came to rest and think. Where natural terraces of rocks overlooking the sea had formed. It was his and Tsireya's secret place. She taught him the way of water here. The rocky bank opened up into a large hole more than ten meters deep. Lo'ak, as a forest boy, had room for improvement but she had taken the time to teach him. To teach them. 

He would balance between the rocks and then sit on the edge, gazing out at the endless ocean for hours, his eyes lost in the horizon. Tsireya had come to see him a few times. She had sat next to him, she had tried to talk to him. But no words could come out of his mouth. So she just sat there, beside him, silent. He knew how lucky he was to have her as her friend. She could see into him. But he felt unworthy. She and Neteyam were also very close, he knew they talked about him behind his back. And he had torn that away from her too.

The only one he could still confide in was Payakan, his spiritual brother, who he was perched on right now.

"Payakan, how am I going to move forward without him?" the teenager breathed, lying on the animal's massive shell.

"Be patient Lo'ak," uttered Payakan. 

"You know what I told him before all of this happened?" He stood up, waving his hands.

"I told him you were my brother... that I would never be him... the perfect son..." 

His eyes darkened.

"Oh Payakan... what have I done..." 

The boy looked down at his hands as if they were still soaked with his brother's blood. 

"It's no use blaming yourself," his friend tried to reassure him.

Lo'ak said nothing. He thought of his brother. He would do whatever he could to make him say "it's okay" again,to make him tell that everything would go back to the way it was. He hated just what it came to. He lost him, now he felt lost. But he couldn't hold it against him, only he was to blame. Just like Payakan, he would have to pay for it the rest of his life. 

Did that make him a killer? 

He sat up, bringing his legs up to him and wrapping his arms around them. He tried to hold back the tears but felt them burning his eyes. Sobbing, the boy buried his head in his lap and let the sadness flow out of him. 

...

"Lo'ak!"

His name had come to him like a distant echo. He thought he recognized a familiar voice. Once he had gathered his wits, he looked up to try to distinguish where the call was coming from. It was Kiri and Spider, he should have known. The darkness was waiting for him.  They were always supposed to be home by eclipse...

When his sister arrived at his level, she simply put her hand on his shoulder and smiled sincerely.

"Lo'ak, it's time to go home."

If Kiri had come all the way here accompanied by Spider, it was because their parents must have been worried about him not coming home. She was playing her big sister role by bringing him back before they got too worried. The young na'vi did not flinch and gladly followed her after saying goodbye to Payakan. 

When they reached the village, Lo'ak was surprised to see Norman's avatar there talking with his father. He approached him with a smile.

"Norm, I didn't expect to see you here!” 

For the first time in a while, Lo'ak had surprised himself with a sense of joy. Seeing Norm again felt so good.

"Hey boy! It's good to see you!" he said, giving him a hug. "Spider needed an oxygen refill so I came to bring it. Without a helicopter this time..."

He realized at that moment that he must have felt responsible for them being spotted by Quaritch before the big fight. 

"I know about Neteyam. I'm sorry," Norm told him sincerely.

He had watched them grow up. It must have been heartbreaking for him too. Norm was part of the family, he was like an uncle to them. Lo'ak hated himself even more. He nodded sadly. Norm patted him affectionately on the back before letting the boy go. The teenager greeted his parents briefly before heading for their marui. 

Turning back to Jake, Norm sighed.

"How’s he doing?"

"He does what he can as we all do. But it's really hard for him. We barely see him anymore."

"Have you two been talking?"

Jake pursed his lips. He knew for a fact that talking with his son would help him accept what had happened, it would help them both. But it was all still too fresh. And the truth is, he didn't even know what to say to him. Lo'ak was young, death was still a complex concept at that age.

"Jake..." Norm breathed, pulling him out of his thoughts.

"I know... but what do you want me to tell him?"

The avatar laid a loving hand on his friend's shoulder. 

"Have you told him about Tom yet?"

Jake sighed. Tommy. 

"Well, maybe you should," Norm continued.

Norm was right, Jake knew. He had hardly mentioned Tom's name in the presence of his sons. 

He watched Lo'ak in the distance, eating his meal away from the rest of the clan. He couldn't help but see himself in him. In fact, Neteyam and Lo'ak reminded him a lot of him and Tom. Neteyam was very wise and quiet by nature, and resembled his twin in every way, while Lo'ak had inherited more of his personality traits, especially his rebellious side. In Neteyam's shadow, Lo'ak was trying to carve out a place for himself, just as his father did when everything his older brother did was a success - the great scientist. Jake had wanted to give meaning to his life and that is why he joined the military. He believed he had found something worth fighting for. Then he lost the use of his legs. And Tom got killed. Nothing made sense anymore. Just like today.

But Neteyam's death was still too recent. When the time was right, he would talk to Lo'ak.

"Not today, Norm."

Jake stood up to come sit next to his son, out of the way.

"Hey son..." he breathed, pausing to make sure he had Lo'ak's attention. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," the interested party replied unconvincingly.

"Your mother is worried about you," his father insisted before adding "...and so am I."

"Like that matters..." the boy then sighed, deliberately avoiding his father's gaze.

"Lo'ak..."

Jake's face broke down. Talking to his youngest son had always been difficult and the current situation wasn't helping. He had lost a son, but Lo'ak had lost a brother. A situation he knew all too well and it reminded him of how similar he and Lo'ak were in their fate. He only hoped that time would allow them to heal their wounds. 

It was time for their family to come together.

…

Tomorrow, it was decided. The Sullys had gathered their belongings to return to their people for a while. They were going back to the Omatikaya clan to replenish their resources and gather supplies, mainly weapons and medicine. 

Straddling her ikran, Neytiri kissed Tuktirey's forehead. 

"Let's go home."

The same rain that had led them to the sea people led them back to the forest people. The eight-hour flight on the back of their ikrans was exhausting. They arrived drained, their limbs weighed down and dehydrated. They suffered in every way possible, but it was worth it. Because Neytiri needed to be reunited with her people, and so did the children. 

The Tree of Souls stood before them with Mo'at at its base. No words were needed. She took her daughter in her arms, sucking in all the pain that was hers. Mo'at knew. And who better than a mother to understand the pain of a grieving mother? They were soon joined by Kiri and Tuk. The latter  threw herself into her grandmother's arms. 

Around them, the Omatikaya people flocked to meet them. There were hugs, there were pats, and words of compassion: "Ngaytxo", "Eywa ngahu", echoes of apologies from the people showing their support. There was this oppressive atmosphere of sadness and grief.

Jake couldn’t breathe.

He hadn't felt such an intense struggle since the time he almost suffocated to death: his lungs emptying of their oxygen. But right now it was worse: he felt like he wasn't alive. It was too heavy, he couldn't stand there and pretend everything was okay. He needed to be alone to take time to process his pain.

In the midst of all this, Lo'ak was also suffering. He looked around at all the people with anxiety, wondering if they blamed him for his brother's death. Did they know what happened or did they only know that Neteyam was gone forever?

His mother drew him out of his thoughts: 

"Where’s your father?" 

"I'm going to look for him," Lo'ak replied, without thinking.

…

The forest of Pandora.

Jake felt as if he had left it years ago when it had only been a few months. It had seemed like an eternity. To find himself there, the place that had made him fall in love, it brought him comfort. He could breathe again. He wandered without thinking of where he was going, he let himself be guided by his steps. Then he stopped dead in his tracks. This place, this light, this greenery, these waterfalls, this lake... it was the place where he used to fish with his oldest son. He crouched down at the water's edge, as if Neteyam was going to show him his latest catch. A big one, without a doubt.

But nothing happened. He was alone here. And the only face he could see in the water’s reflection was his own. He looked miserable with his eyes eaten away by fatigue and his wounds still very apparent. He saw a tear roll down his cheek. He looked away to look in the distance. He saw himself washing the lifeless body of his son beside Neytiri again, this image haunted him. He broke down in tears, letting it all out. Jake mourned the death of his son for the first time.

...

Lo'ak walked deeper into the forest. Following familiar paths, he hoped to run into his father. He couldn't have gone far anyway. It must have been a few minutes since he realized he was gone.

A noise attracted him. He looked up. Sobs. It was a man crying. And that man was none other than his own dad. Lo'ak could not believe it, he had never seen his father cry. It was only when he saw him in the distance, kneeling on the ground, one hand on his forehead, looking down at the water at his feet, that he could believe what he had heard. His father was crying.

Lo'ak approached and without even realizing it, he stood behind him not knowing what to say. Jake hadn't even noticed his presence.

When Neytiri had asked him to go look for his father, Lo'ak had thought he would simply tell him his mom was looking for him and then take him back to the village. But now that he had found him, he understood the reason why his father had slipped away. Asking him to return was the last thing he wanted to do.

And the reason beyond that was that in his dad’s presence, Lo'ak felt the need to justify himself. He felt the need to apologize, to ask his dad to blame him, to put Neteyam's death on his shoulders and not his. 

"I'm sorry he's not here with us," Lo'ak began.

Jake looked up, realizing he was no longer alone. 

"I'm not like him, I wish I was, but I'm just an alien, demon blood. I'm sorry I'm not the son you wanted me to be. I'm sorry I’m not him..."

"Lo'ak..." Jake whispered, trying to stop him.

But the teenager barely took a breath between each sentence, his thoughts moving faster than his speech. He was hyperventilating, spitting out all his words like stones that he wanted to get rid of his heart as soon as possible. 

"I'm sorry, it's all my fault. I should have listened to you, but then again, I wanted to do things my way and it led him to death. It should have been me. I'm sorry I killed him!"

As he said this last sentence, Lo'ak burst into tears. He looked down to avoid his father's gaze, he didn't want him to feel sorry for him, pretty much on the contrary.

"Remember I told you I had a brother?" Jake asked abruptly to his son, breaking the silence. 

"Um... yes. Tom, I think his name was," Lo'ak sniffed.

"That's right, Tom, my twin brother."

"But you never really talk about him."

And there was a good reason for that.

"He's dead. He got shot, too."

Lo'ak looked up at his father.

"Dad... I didn't know. I thought he was on Earth."

"The reason I came to Pandora the reason all of this happened was because he died. I was offered to take over his contract, to pilot his avatar," Jake confessed.

"You mean you could have never come?" asked Lo'ak, clearly surprised.

"Well... Tom was a great scientist, he studied hard to come to Pandora. He was brilliant, he was good at everything. The Avatar mission was his dream."

"Weren't you interested in that?"

"I grew up hearing about it, but I never figured  I’d be going there. Tommy had been preparing for this his whole life, he was the one looking for answers.”

"Did you two get along well?"

"To tell you the truth, he and I were very different. I preferred to go out, to go on adventures, whereas he was very calm by nature, he liked to read a lot. We used to read together, we loved the heroes of Greek mythology..."

Lo'ak didn't understand everything his dad talked about, but he was glad to know that he had a brother and that he could understand him.

"It must have been hard… losing him."

Jake remembered the night his brother died like it was yesterday.

"You know, the night before he died, the two of us met at a bar to talk. It was to tell me he was officially leaving for Pandora in a week. I wanted to celebrate with him, cause I knew we wouldn't see each other again for a long time. It takes  six years to get here, you know. But he didn't want to stay, he had things to do, he wanted to go back and I didn't hold him back. After that, I found out that a guy with a gun shot him, for the paper in his wallet."

Jake left his sentence hanging. He hadn't thought about it in quite a while, but discussing it with his son made him realize that he could help him.

"You don't know how much I blame myself for what happened."

"But it wasn't your fault! It was that guy who killed him! You didn't do it!" Lo'ak became revolted.

And that was exactly the reaction Jake was expecting. He put his hands on his son's shoulders and looked him straight in the eye.

"Just as you are not responsible for your brother's death, Lo'ak." 

The young boy looked away, holding back tears.

"Son, you meant well, it wasn't your fault."

Lo'ak suddenly realized that his father felt as guilty as he did, and despite all this, he had moved on, admitting that the real culprit laid elsewhere. Lo'ak snuggled into his father's arms. Jake held him tightly to his heart.

When he ended their embrace, Jake rubbed the top of his head in the same way Neteyam used to do with Lo'ak, reminding him he was the one who taught him this move in the first place.

"Let's go find your mom." 

…

Utralä (a)Nawm

We are all seeds

ayrina’l(u) ayoeng,

of the great tree

A peyä tìtxur mì hinam awngeyä

whose strength is in our legs

N(a) aysangek afkeu,

like the mighty trunks,

Mì pun

in our arms

N(a) ayvul ahusawnu,

as sheltering branches

M(ì) aynar

in our eyes

Na seze

the blue-flower

A ’ong ne tsawke.

which unfolds the sun

Utralä (a)Nawm

we are all seeds

ayrina’ l(u) ayoeng,

of the great tree

A peyä tìrol m(ì) awnga.

whose song is within us.

The Na’vi say that there is no death, only change. The Sully's life would never be the same again. All the events they faced for several months had changed them. They were forest people, but they were also sea people now: Neteyam rested with their ancestors. Once the Remembrance Ceremony was over, they gathered as a family with Mo'at to honor the memory of their son and brother one last time. 

A few days later, it was already time for them to leave. Staying here too long could put the People in danger and that was the last thing they wanted after all that had happened. Restocked with medical and military supplies, they were ready to return to the place they now called kelku, home, knowing that it was only a “see you soon” not a farewell.

...

When she saw the Sully return, Tsireya felt that Lo'ak's relationship with her father had changed.

That evening, Tsireya sat down beside Lo'ak. Without saying a word, she simply rested her head on his shoulder, affectionately stroking his chest to calm his breathing, as she used to do during their training sessions. She closed her eyes as if lulled by the steady rise of his chest. No words were needed, they were just happy to feel each other's presence again.

"You know, I've talked to my dad," Lo'ak confided to her after a moment.

She had suspected it, but she was so happy that he confided in her that she didn't let him know.

"I'm so glad you finally were able to talk to your dad. Told you he would understand," she breathed before adding, "I'm so proud of you Lo'ak."

"Thank you, Tsireya, for being my friend."

He placed his hand on the one Tsireya had placed over his heart earlier and smiled at her.

She smiled back at him, revealing the dimples that Lo'ak had a secret adoration for. . 

The look on her face, however, changed to a more serious one. She put both hands around his face.

"Lo'ak, I think you’re ready to see your brother now." 

Lo'ak knew she was right. But he wasn't sure he could do it. What if he couldn't connect with him? 

"Tsireya, I don't know if I..." he choked as he placed his hand over hers.

"You have to," she insisted, her eyes moist.

She paused to hold back a sob. It saddened her to see Lo'ak so alone. She was sure that seeing her brother again would allow him to finally accept what had happened and move on. 

"He's waiting for you, Lo'ak," she whispered, like a prayer.

The boy took her in his arms.

"You're right," he whispered in her ear as he tightened his embrace. "I'll go to the Tree of Souls early tomorrow morning.

From their marui, Neytiri watched the scene fondly. 

"I'm glad Lo'ak was able to find a friend in Tsireya, who truly understands him." 

Her gaze turned to Jake, who squeezed her hand in response. They smiled at each other.

…

The light of day was barely palpable when Lo'ak climbed down from the hammock in which he had been sleeping earlier. Without a sound, he unhooked it from the ends of the marui, rolled it up and put it away in a corner. He had finally found the will to go and see his brother, but he did not want to be disturbed in his solemn approach.

The village was surprisingly quiet. Everyone was asleep and he didn't cross paths with panyone on his way. All he had to do was call his ilu who would lead him to the Tree of Souls. 

It was still a big journey and it gave him time to think. A thousand times he had thought of turning back, dreading the moment of reunion too much. But on the other hand, he couldn't help thinking about his dad's confidences, about his past and about his brother. He didn't want to have any regrets.

The Tree of Souls loomed under his feet. He took a deep breath and dived down to find his brother.

...

"Neteyam?" 

Lo'ak looked around for his brother. He couldn't see him anywhere. What if...?

"My baby bro!" a voice came from behind him.

Lo'ak immediately turned around. He smiled as he saw his older brother facing him.

"So the mighty warrior is being grounded. No flying for a month huh?" his older brother teased him, patting his head affectionately.

"I deserved it... You almost got killed because of me..." replied Lo'ak, using a more serious tone.

"Oh that? It was nothing... Grandma treated me well, I should be able to get away with it!" Neteyam joked.

"Come here, I'm not done with you!" 

Kiri had just grabbed him by the shoulders to sit him down to apply more solution to his wounds.

"Ouch!" 

He gritted his teeth.

"Hold still, this should ease your pain."

Seeing his brother in pain, Lo'ak's face darkened.

"Don't make that face, baby brother!" Neteyam reassured him, "What did Dad ask you to do? Taking care of the ikrans I bet..."

He felt the tears come to his eyes. 

"Neteyam... if I had listened to you, none of this would have happened..." he paused, thinking about how recent events had kept coming. "I promise I’ll listen to you from now on..."

Neteyam looked at Lo'ak with seriousness. He placed a loving hand on his brother's shoulders and looked him in the eye.

"Don't blame yourself, baby brother, we couldn't have foreseen what would happen. None of this is your fault Lo'ak. Promise me you'll forgive yourself, okay bro?"

Despite everything that happened, his brother had forgiven him. 

"I promise," he conceded before throwing himself into his arms, finally letting his tears fall.

"I'll always be there for you Lo'ak. Always."

#avatar #avatar2 #avatar3 #avatar fanfiction #avatar twow #avatar the way of water #jake sully #lo'ak #neteyam #neytiri #spider socorro #kiri sully #tsireya #loreya #jeytiri #Youtube

[inmyfxith]

Being Jimmy Darling's sister

Warnings: Body deformation (anophthalmia), violence

Before meeting Elsa Mars

Your birth had not been pleasant for your mother, the crowd gathered around her to see a monster giving birth to another was the main reason.

Your chances of living a "normal" life seemed extremely low, and your premature birth did not bode well. One more show that would bring in a few dollars for Dell Toledo's little family.

Family on the verge of breaking up with your arrival. Despite your small stature, no physical deformity was able to win over the audience, so they quickly asked Dell for their money back.

It was only when your mother cleaned your skin that she realized that her hope of you growing up with what she didn't have vanished. She hadn't had a chance to see the color of your eyes and hadn't really paid attention because of the situation. But Ethel suddenly became aware that she would never see it. Your eyelids, shorter than those of an ordinary baby, formed a kind of protection around two empty, dark sockets.

Another of her children had just been struck down by bad luck. After Jimmy, Dell could not help but suspect that none of his children would ever have a simple life, and he found that very hard to accept.

He seemed distressed the first time he held you in his arms where you seemed even smaller. Not knowing how to accept it, Dell left the dilapidated trailer that served as his family's home for a few days, wandering the bars of the area and drowning his sorrows in drink, leaving his wife alone with two very young children.

The evening of his reappearance, an argument broke out between the children's parents. The father of the family blamed his wife for all the evils that afflicted him, the lack of income, the birth of his children... And, before he committed the irreparable after having grabbed a pillow, Ethel found the strength to throw him out of the house to save her children.

From then on, the little family moved from freakshow to freakshow, leaving them successively for different reasons. Some did not accept children, even deformed ones, others were particularly inclined to have them around for more obscure reasons.

Growing up without one of your senses only amplified the others. Your hearing allowed you to hear sounds that others only ignored, your sense of smell proved to be a formidable weapon in distinguishing the people around you, and your touch, when combined with your imagination, proved to be even more accurate than the vision of the average person.

At a very early age, whenever you were picked up by someone, your first instinct was always to touch the person's face and to define the way the person was holding you. But most of the time, no one, except your mother and your brother, dared to approach you. Your deformity made you a monster to people who defined themselves as normal.

As the years went by, your relationship with Jimmy evolved. Due to the lack of money, it was more than common for you to share a bed or stick together when you had to sleep outside.

He was particularly protective, and seemed to make it a point to help you become self-sufficient while keeping an eye on you. Especially after the Capitola incident near Tallahassee.

You had just turned thirteen, and your family performed repeatedly in a small traveling troupe. Trips into town were rare but not non-existent and were strategically planned. You only went out at certain times of the day when few people were on the streets.

What you didn't know that day was that the schools were closed. A group of several boys found you, and took you to a seemingly more secluded area over the slight echo that rose around you. After the taunts, the physical violence began with repeated shoving and slapping before one of them stuck his finger in the holes that only partially covered your eyelids. A new pain emerged from this unpleasant experience, and, having tried to be brave until then, tears began to flow from your tear ducts, further frightening the boys who eventually let you go in disgust.

From then on, your escapades in the city were only in the presence of Ethel or Jimmy, who went into a real rage when he realized what had happened to you. As if he felt responsible for what you had been through.

But your lifestyle changed dramatically when a woman came to Ethel pretending to help support her grown children.

In the freakshow

Elsa became over the years a sort of aunt, very close to your mother. The other members of the troupe didn't treat you differently, didn't try to touch you, and most importantly, didn't make derogatory comments that you were only blind and not deaf.

Soon, an act was put together for you. Plunged into permanent darkness, your only cues were the smell of popcorn and the applause of the audience.

Elsa Mars' troupe quickly became a small family, with everyone looking out for everyone else. But Jimmy seemed to do it more.

Your inability to see the world allowed you to not judge anyone by their looks, even unconsciously. So when a clown with a face disfigured by gunfire found a place in the troupe, you tried to help him fit in. But the world is still cruel, even in a group of monsters. And the friendly clown was forced to leave Jupiter because he scared the children.

Your place in the camp was relatively like your mother's, you cooked meals together, took care of everything and everyone, and Ethel took advantage of these moments to share her love for Emily Dickinson with you.

“I’m Nobody! Who are you ? Are you — Nobody too ?” Ethel exclaimed as she cleaned the potatoes used to make soup. Sitting alone around a table, the old woman enjoyed evaluating her memory. “Then there is a pair of us! You added as you placed a kiss on her cheek before moving around the table to help her.

But your favorite moments came at nightfall when everyone was in bed. You and Jimmy would meet at the edge of the field that housed the main tent and trailers. There, he would light a fire to warm you from the night chill before telling you what he had done during the day, some of what was bothering him, omitting of course everything that could affect you from near or far.

Jimmy would then listen to you, paying attention to every detail and sometimes asking questions to try to understand how you felt. And a lot of your night was spent doing just that.

A large part of your night was devoted only to him.

#ahs #american horror story #ahs freakshow #american horror story freakshow #ahs headcanon #american horror story headcanon #ahs imagine #ahs imagines #american horror story imagine #american horror story imagines #Jimmy Darling #Evan Peters #Ethel Darling #kathy bates #Elsa Mars #jessica lange #dell toledo

[nevergonnasimpyoumikey]

Always Sunny

My fic for the It's Always Sunny in Los Santos summer event @gtavfest :') I was originally going to write something very different but then the need for some angst hit me and here we are, getting a glimpse of how Amanda's doing after their move to LS.

TW: canon-typical body issues, depressive thoughts

***

ALWAYS SUNNY

On their third day in Los Santos, the kids beg them to go to the beach. 

Their house is still a mess, both empty and messy at the same time; they don’t have enough furniture to fill out all the space, and the few reminders of their past lives are still in boxes, but then Michael, too, looks at her like he’s aching to do it. She doesn’t find the strength in her to say no even though she is tired after shopping and organizing all morning, trying to make their enormous house feel like home.

He lets Michael take the lead as they go to a mall and shop for beach toys, swimwear, big towels, sunscreen, snacks — that’s what her husband does well, spends money to make the kids happy. And they are, even just thinking about their day. Michael buys a disposable camera just for the day, acting more of a father than he has since the kids were in diapers. 

Amanda tries on a bikini, stares at her flabby reflection in the mirror, and realizes she will not fit in with the young, hot things that fill this city. It was different in the Midwest. She was a catch there, even as a mother of two. Here, she can’t compete. She buys a simple black one-piece that covers her stomach with ruching but shows her breasts and a big hat to hide underneath. She helps Tracey choose her very first bikini, a brown and orange pair with a cartoon parrot, and manages a smile at her burst of excitement. She thinks she’s so grown up, but Amanda just wishes she could be a little kid for a few more years.

Growing up too soon never did her any favors.

They change into their swimwear at the mall, except for Michael, who claims he doesn’t feel like swimming today. She is not in the mood to question it even though the kids pout a bit, and she thinks she knows Michael likes swimming. It doesn’t matter to her if he will or not.

The beach is full of people, but they find a nice spot close to the pier. She makes them all wear sunscreen, and the kids go for a swim, Michael watching over them near the water while she lies down to sunbathe; her excuse to not have to move around all that much. 

“It’s really the ocean, oh my God,” she hears Tracey squeal from a distance, and Michael laughs and says something so quietly she can’t quite make it out. She closes her eyes and tries not to think of anything. 

When the kids get bored of swimming, or more like walking around and lying in the shallow water, they come to devour their chocolate bars and sodas while Michael’s staring out the sea. Amanda makes the kids put on clothes again to protect them from the sun, and then they start playing with their beach toys — even Tracey embraces the childish activity of shoveling sand and digging holes, and Jimmy looks happy to have her company. 

Michael plops down next to her on the towel a while later. “It’s always sunny in Los Santos, babe,” he sighs happily. “We’ll be happy here. We made the right choice.”

The sunglasses hide her teary eyes, not that Michael thinks or cares to look, anyway, fiddling with the camera he bought. It doesn’t matter that she’s feeling detached; he thinks the sun and the ocean and all the money he’s stolen will eventually fix them. So she doesn’t argue with him. Instead, she watches the people around them, noticing a few college guys ogling at her body as they walk by. It’s a small confidence boost, one she gladly accepts. 

“Dad!” Jimmy yells excitedly. “Come make a sand castle with me!” 

Michael looks surprised. It’s no secret that he has been distant with the kids, always too busy or tired to connect with them. She has to nudge him with her foot and take the camera from him before he gets up, brushes sand off his shorts, and joins them. She takes a few pictures of them as they play, Jimmy and Michael posing for the camera first. Tracey fills the rest of the roll with images of seashells and cute dogs and whatnot.

It might be sunny, but Amanda doesn’t feel it, not when everything is still so raw and she misses everyone and everything she left behind. Still, watching her family so happy, she dares to hope it will get better. 

Meanwhile, she has to rely on the pills in her purse. 

#gta v fest #gta #gta v #gta fanfiction #michael/amanda #michael de santa #amanda de santa #jimmy de santa #tracey de santa #tw: body issues #tw: depressive thoughts #my fics

[lightweaving]

1 + itachi x kurenai for the ask meme uwuw

Prompt: "We'll always toe that fine line but never actually, like, cross it, will we?"

Hehe thanks for this ask - DAMN I actually had so much fun writing this pair, and it went way longer than I expected oops. But hope you enjoy!

Moving On

Length: 1.6k

Summary: After Asuma's death, Kurenai goes on a journey to rediscover who she is.

It had been much easier than Kurenai had expected to leave Konoha in the wake of Asuma's death. Nobody really wanted to force a grieving mother-to-be to stay, and her excuse that she wanted to visit an aunt – indefinitely – was immediately accepted, and a chit clearing her for departure was granted.

As she left the gates of Konoha behind her, her heart swelled with relief. Finally. The streets of Konoha held far too many memories, and all of them served to remind her that she would be raising hers and Asuma's child alone. Here, in the woods that surrounded Konoha, she could think of happier memories – of the way Kiba always gave an exuberant yell and tore off with Akamaru, returning only when he realized he had no idea where the team was actually going. Of how Hinata's shoulders relaxed, and she stood taller once outside the sphere of her father's influence. How Shino peered around curiously, looking for plants his kikaichu would find interesting.

Out here, she could remember that she'd had a life before Asuma, and one that would go on without him. That the gaping hole he left behind would one day be filled again. That there was a future for her beyond the disgrace of being an unwed mother, and beyond raising Asuma's child without him.

She wouldn't be gone for too long, she promised herself. Just a month or two. Just long enough for her to find some strength in herself to return to face the ghosts of everything she and Asuma could have been.

---

Three weeks later, she found herself in a tavern, sipping on a glass of water. Anyone who got near her would have sworn that it was sake, and the bartender himself would have insisted he'd poured her his finest brew, but they didn't call Kurenai a master of genjutsu for nothing.

Her eyes roved the tavern, listening to the drunken slurs of the patrons, watching them flail about, an indulgent smile upon her face. She'd always enjoyed people-watching, and there was just something so refreshingly honest about the intoxicated. And of course, it helped that hearing the unfiltered thoughts of those who thought themselves surrounded by similarly compromised people helped enrich her illusions.

It had been far too long since she'd done this. She'd loved how larger than life Asuma was, how dynamic and charismatic, but it did mean that her eyes always found him. It did mean that there wasn't space for her to pay attention to anyone else, when focusing on him – his booming laughter, his all-encompassing warmth, his consuming love – was so much more rewarding.

It was only due to her skill with observation that she noticed a sort of patchy area to the right of the bar. Somehow, her gaze refused to fix on it, and simply slid off onto other patrons. Even disrupting her chakra and doing a genjutsu release didn't help her see through the illusion – it only peeled away a layer of outward concealment that obscured the illusion itself. She frowned, her muscles tensing. This was bad. That level of genjutsu implied a prodigious skill – one she had only encountered once before. Her hand passed protectively over her womb. Getting involved in an altercation here would do little good. She had to protect the final remnant of Asuma left in the world.

She left the tavern and shrouded herself in shadows, waiting for the unknown nin to leave. She'd mark which way he passed, before making her own departure from the town in the opposite direction.

And yet, when she spotted Uchiha Itachi striding along as if he had every right to be there, her blood boiled. Akatsuki. His hand might not have been the one that slew Asuma, but it didn't matter. He was still one of them.

And this time, she wouldn't lose to him.

She'd failed to snare him the last time because the illusion had been too obvious. This time, she'd make him think he was walking the path he intended to, even as he actually walked toward her. And the instant he passed her, she'd stick a kunai in his back. Simple.

But easier said than done. As her hand plunged towards him, he spun around and clasped her wrist, arresting her movement.

"I would have thought you would have learned your lesson from our last encounter," he said coolly. "Genjutsu of that level does not work on me."

She snarled. Arrogant prick. He thought he was all that just because he had a Sharingan, didn't he? It pissed her off, just as much as it irritated her every time people speculated if she was an Uchiha. Her genjutsu was all her own, with no doujutsu powering it.

"You were still caught in it. Enough to come here, weren't you?" She pulled another kunai, intending to stab him in the stomach, and found herself pinned against a tree, staring into the mesmerizing spinning of his tomoe.

No. So stupid, so reckless, and now she and her child were both going to die here.

"I have no quarrel with you," he said smoothly. "And little desire to harm a pregnant mother. I followed your genjutsu so you would be assured of your safety, but I will not tolerate an attack on my person." He released her and stepped backward. "Do not be foolish. Do not press the limits of my mercy. Go home."

And with a final jerk of his head toward her protruding belly, he turned to leave. Her teeth clenched. Of course. The Sharingan had allowed him to see through the genjutsu she'd cast to mask all signs of the pregnancy. And yet… nothing she had heard of Uchiha Itachi had ever indicated any sort of sentimentality or mercy. Pregnant or not, as far as his dossier should be concerned, she should be dead.

---

Curiosity had supposedly killed the cat, and it might still kill her and her unborn child. But that same part of Kurenai that enjoyed watching people demanded that she unravel the mystery of Uchiha Itachi. There had been plenty of pregnant women among the Uchiha clan on the day he had massacred them. Civilian ones, no less. So why should a kunoichi, and one who had attacked him on multiple occasions no less, be an exception to his ruthlessness?

Except, she was. This made the fourth time he had averted her attack and declared that she should stop trying his patience. But his threats had grown stale in the face of her continued safety, and this time, she found herself examining his features instead. His sharp nose, his long eyelashes, the deep tear troughs that gave him a look of fatigue. He really was quite beautiful. She didn't normally go in for younger men, but damn if this position – with his body pressing hers against a tree – wasn't making her feel things.

Asuma would have cheered her on. Itachi was exactly the kind of man he found attractive, and they'd certainly talked about opening their bed to a third multiple times. A madness seized her, and she pressed her lips against his.

They were warm, and soft. And then, she found her face scraped by the rough bark of the tree, her wrists twisted painfully behind her, and the chill of metal against the back of her neck. She noted in a detached fashion that this would mark their first encounter where she sustained any sort of wound.

"Do not push me," he said. "My patience is wearing thin. If you have any sense of self-preservation, you will return to your village and cease your pointless tracking."

She probably would have listened to him, if it wasn't for the part of her mind that sounded like Asuma egging her on. You're a gorgeous woman, Kurenai. Use it. Fuck him senseless. And if you can't fuck him, then fuck with him.

How had this happened? How had she gone from wanting to kill Uchiha Itachi, to wanting to understand him, to wanting to bed him?

"I'm still alive when there's no reason for it. You want this too, don't you?" she purred. Slowly, she thrust her hips back, gyrating against him. Apart from a sharp inhale, there was no response. No further twisting of her wrists, no bite of his blade against her skin. She smirked. "Every time, you've pinned my body under yours. Every time, you've warned me that this is the last time. But every time, I walk away without a scratch. There's no need to pretend, Uchiha Itachi. We've been toeing that line we'll never cross. But we'll never walk away from it either, won't we?"

"Your presume much," he said icily, releasing her. She didn't even have time to turn around before he was gone.

She'd hit a nerve, alright.

---

Two months later, Kurenai walked back through the gates of Konoha with her head held high. Her illusions may not have worked on Itachi, but her wiles had. After that last encounter, she hadn't been able to pick up so much of a trace of him. He'd begun covering his tracks.

And wasn't that just something, to know that she'd managed to freak him out enough that the predator had felt the need to run from one he considered prey?

Her hands brushed over her belly once more as she walked past Yakiniku-Q, where she and Asuma had had their first date. She could move on. She knew that now. She'd never entirely let go of him, and a part of him would always be within her, urging her to be reckless and impulsive. And she would always love him.

But having felt another man's lips on hers, having heard Asuma encouraging her to just go for it – her life wasn't over. Not really. She could continue to be a kunoichi once her kid was old enough, and even if she never fell in love again, she could still be with other people.

She was going to be just fine.

#yuhi kurenai #uchiha itachi #itakure #itachi x kurenai #past asukure #naruto fanfic #grieving #lightweaver writes #asks #naruto rarepairs

[acidcities]

death note headcanons for father's day, why not:

L knew his birth father when he was very young but has no memories of him

young light feigned indifference to soichiro in order to get him to talk about cases at home

sayu on the other hand went through a phase of refusing to talk to him since he was always gone

when mello is stressed he pretends to talk to his father even though he never knew him

near never viewed roger as a father figure. he always accepted the fact he would never have that

misa was closer to her father than her mother

#i also think L asked wammy about his father one time #but when wammy asked if he was sure he wanted to know about him #he lied and told him no even though he really did #i think mello would talk to his father as one would talk to god #maybe he blurred the lines #sayu hated that soichiro put his job first and it took her a long time to act like she didn't #light knew soichiro would never just talk about cases #so he'd talk about his grades and pieces of information he noticed in the news about criminal trials #until soichiro thought him a good resource #misa i don't really know #she's shifty i feel like she lies as much as L but it's never fully addressed #near realized he did not have a father and accepted that hole as it was #are these depressing? #idk i think not #they're just highlighting the wide range of impacts fathers can have #father's day #l lawliet #sayu yagami #soichiro yagami #near #mello #misa amane #death note #light yagami

[alreadyblondenow]

The morning and evening star | Johnny Suh

Johnny Suh x female!Reader  

▸ too much fluff, too much smut, angst, prince of Egypt AU, slave reader ▸ Part of NCT Historical AU Collaboration hosted by @puppywritings ▸ In ancient Egypt, the Pharaoh is referred as “Morning and Evening Star”

Summary: Fighting the battles for his kingdom and for his ill father, Johnny, a prince of Egypt was given a beautiful gift the night before a great war starts. The given gift, which is you, gave the prince a very hard time but soon your heart softened the moment you allow yourself to get to know him. As you both fall in love sooner than expected, you thought that Johnny will give you your freedom but he can’t because that means letting you go. Johnny treated you as a gold and you became his most precious jewel. He kept you inside the palace, gave you a place to paint on and kept you in his life for as long as he can. But not long enough. 

Word count: 8,441k Warnings: Smut, Smut, Smut, its a Johnny fic what do you expect?, mentions of slavery (if that bothers you, please click away), mentions of blood, mentions of death, mentions of sadness, self doubt, possessiveness, unprotected sex, oral sex (female),  rough sex, slight exhibitionism, fingering, mentions of bruises, spitting. Mentions of other idols, and Johnny’s parents. Pregnancy, (if that bothers you please click away), mature themes, murder, family betrayal, mentions of gods bc hello its Egypt A/N: Pure fiction. Inspired by my favorite movies that I grew up watching with my family during family movie nights.. haha. (Troy, prince of Egypt, Exodus: Gods and kings, Tangled, and Gods of Egypt) 

Taglist:  @doyounglover  @puppywritings  @commentgirl @mischiefmakerliesmith5  @wonderfulkoreanpop  @ethaeriyeol @suhpersonic @sunshinedhyuck @sighreal @jb-hope94​ 

To William, thank you so much for this wonderful collab! I’m lucky enough to join last minute and I hope this fic gives justice to your wonderful collab. Thank you so much! 

On a beautiful quiet night in Egypt, under the dark sky that's full of stars, a young prince is out on the terrace to look at his kingdom and admire it even with the slightest light. The moon shines beautifully and so he expects that that is a good sign that the night will be even more beautiful.

A royal banquet is waiting for his presence. Another gathering where the richest families in Egypt wish the young prince to bring peace, victory, and finally put an end to this war against the enemies.

“I can already feel the weight of my father’s crown mother, what should I do?” Johnny asks his mother as they accompany each other to the royal banquet.

“You do the right and wises thing, my son. Be a better pharaoh than your father,” his mother advises. Caressing his son’s face before they enter the room and telling him to have long patience with the ignorant people who are going to have a word with him tonight.

When everyone welcomed both the prince and the royal wife, they all cheered happily, shouting and howling for the prince while the blaring sounds of percussion and tambourine started playing. Men and women were always mesmerized by Johnny’s perfect built, architects and sculptors are dying to make him their inspiration and make him a big statue. Even the beauty of every gold he’s wearing in his body right now has no match for his natural handsomeness and godlike features.

“My son, who has fought many battles for me over my reign since I was declared ill, will be the one who will lead you to peace and victory,” he pats Johnny’s shoulder before he continues and looked to his assistants. “So before a great war starts tomorrow, I present to you this gift,” he nods and signals his assistant to bring it in.

And when people started to make way for the gift, loud grunts, and nonstop whining were heard across the room… while the people just watched the guards drag her in to be presented to the prince. “Amusement my prince,” one of the assistants says and pushed her further in front of the prince.

Johnny then lowered himself to check the gift that's been presented to him. Left and right he turned the girl’s face to admire it, and when he finally smirked because he liked the gift, the girl spits on his face. Loud whispers of shocked people surrounded the room, telling the girl that she has no respect for the prince of Egypt. Of course, Johnny can’t let his people see that it’s alright for a slave to disrespect him, and so he did something… something he’s not going to be proud of but will surely wow the people watching.

He grabbed a glass of wine, drank a mouthful and spit it on the girl’s face in front of everyone, and poured the remaining wine from his cup on her clothes. “Be careful slave” the prince says, pointing a finger that has a big golden ring around it to remind her who she’s talking to. “Dry her off and lock her in my room. Go,” he commands and the guards responded immediately.

The royal banquet carries on without even bothering further about the slave. Everyone drank delicious sweet wine, chattered nonstop about their richest and the things they desire in life and bid the prince of Egypt good night before they all went home.

But even though the night carried on as it should be, his mind can’t stop reminding him about the awful thing he did earlier. And so after the royal banquet, he asked for a tray of fruits and brought it to his room… for you.

Behind the thin curtains of his bed, he sees your silhouette and shook his head as a sign of disappointment to himself before he apologizes to you. He joined you in bed, sat so far away but still, he saw that no one tended to you, that no one helped you or even gave you dry clothes. “Why must you disrespect me like that?” Johnny left the question as he disappears for a minute and returned with a damped cloth and his sleeping robe. He hands it to you because he wouldn’t dare touch you without your permission, but instead of accepting the kindness that the prince is giving to you, you rolled your eyes at him, sat up and kept your distance.

“I’m sorry” he whispers but you heard it. “I may be a fool or I act tough in everyone’s eyes, especially my father’s but my mother did not raise me like that,” he added and reached for the damped clothed and came near you. Johnny wiped your face carefully like he is not the future pharaoh of Egypt and humbling himself for you.

After cleaning your skin, you shamelessly removed your clothes in front of him and looked straight into his eyes to search for lust and to finally finish this long night. And just like those men and women, architects and sculptors who lusted over his body, Johnny… lusted for you.

If you strip away every gold in Johnny’s body tonight, you will see goosebumps around his skin. He very much wants to have you tonight and pleasure himself but he still feels very guilty about what he did earlier. Almost as if he felt that he’s not worthy of you.

“If I give you pleasure tonight and have me as much as you want and as many as you like, will you free me?” you ask crawling near him wearing nothing but a cheap necklace. The prince then caressed your face, traced the curves of your body while looking directly into your eyes, showing you that he wanted to accept your offer so bad but not tonight.

“Tempting. But tonight, you rest” he says softly, trying so hard not to kiss you down the mattress and hurt you so good for the whole night. But even though he would rather do filthy things to you, he reached for his robe and made you wear it to bed. “May I be forgiven before I sleep tonight?” he says, smiling weakly and pushing you slowly to the mattress. He sat next to you while waiting for your answer.

“Only if you forgive me from what I did”

He chuckled and got up from the bed to leave you finally so you could get your rest. “Then it's settled. Let’s start again tomorrow when I come home… if… I’ll still be alive” he says, and left a sweet smile.

They say that men who will go to war the next day never get a peaceful sleep not unless they exhaust themselves from pleasure and eventually sleep like a baby. And that’s when you realized that the prince of Egypt sacrificed his sleep for you. Now you feel even more guilty because you took away his very chance to sleep peacefully for the last time… if he dies in battle tomorrow.  

But for Johnny, knowing that he put a decent woman in bed and earned her forgiveness is better than pleasure or getting to enjoy lust before a battle. You were sleeping like a baby, he thought. The whole night he sat on the chair beside his bed, guarding you, and admiring you. Until the sun finally showed up and it's time for him to go.

The battle was bloody as expect but Johnny did not expect that their army will fall on the first day of the war. His soldiers needed to take him back to the palace and protect him from there, even though he wanted to fight until his dying breath. Not run like a coward and let his men die.

The soldiers brought him back safely, but Johnny was not pleased. He arrived at the palace furious and more than angry to his general that he yelled at the nurse who is supposed to treat his wounds and his maids to clean all the blood and dirt on his face and body. Johnny is hurt, physically but his pride is crushed, and that hurts even more than his wounds.

He was repeating the battle plan and their strategy in his mind over and over again to look for holes, to look for people to blame but he just can’t. Until eventually he fell asleep even though he’s in so much pain.

“You” the head of the nurses points at you, “you treat his wounds. Or else his majesty will die because of infection and it will be on your account “ she gave you the things you needed to treat a wound properly, complete expensive materials and ointments to heal the bruises faster but the problem is you don’t how to use them. You’re not stupid and you know a thing or two, but the person whom you’re about to treat is not just anybody, and that makes you nervous alone.

Quietly, you entered his room. It was cold and only a few candles are lit and you see his majesty curled up in a ball. Vulnerable, in pain, and suffering emotionally.

Before you even touch him, this scenario reminded you about his kindness the other night. How he touched you so delicately and how he wiped the traces of expensive wine on your skin so gently. Now it's your turn. You started by stripping off his armor, the golds, and silvers that protect him until he’s exposed with nothing but the minimal cloth that covers his manhood.

Carefully, you wipe away the dirt on his face until his handsomeness is visible again, closely you make sure you did not miss a spot and clean him well. Touching his big arms almost felt like you’re committing a great sin, his chest looked so strong even though it’s covered with bruises now which you’re going to take care of in a few minutes.

Then he wakes up and he sees you treating his wounds.  

Glad to see that it’s you who’s taking care of him because for some reason you make him soft. He let out a sharp sigh and in an instant, you were shaking for you thought he will shout at you. But no. “I think I may have a broken bone, can you help me get up?” he weakly asks you.

“O-of course,” you slightly panicked but you did your best to support him with all your strength.

“Give me some water,” he says and you followed, helping him drink so he wouldn’t move too much. "You know you’re not a maid here. You’re a gift. A gift to me” he says sternly like he wanted you to take his pride. “Thank you. For taking care of me in my vulnerable state, sleep beside me I’m in pain”

And without hesitation, you did. This time, it's you who’s guarding him to his sleep. Although it hurts you to watch him suffer like this, you didn’t have a choice but to further take care of him.

On the next day, the nurses treated him the right way and adjusted his broken bones which made him feel better in an instant. You thought you will be released by then because you’re completely useless to his majesty, but you realized that he’s only keeping you for his pleasure and nothing has happened between you two yet.

So in the meantime, you decided to make yourself useful and learn the basics of treating a wound and make sure you know exactly what you’re doing whenever his majesty feels any discomfort.

He healed for days. Did not speak for days. And still, he hasn’t touched you. Oh you wish he would already so you can guarantee your freedom. Your family should be worried by now and probably thinks that you’re already dead. You can’t help but think about your family, your ill father and your younger brothers who need you, in which you can only sigh as you think about it while you take a breather at the palace terrace.  

“I bring good news,” a voice disturbed you and your thoughts, “we are winning the war,” he said weakly.

“Ah. But you don’t sound so pleased? May I ask why?” you turned around to face the prince and slowly came closer to him.

“Because I am here resting and healing while my men fight in the war when I should be leading them” the disappointment in his voice is obvious. He pulled you closer to seek comfort, holding you by the waist and keeping himself calm by smelling your unique scent.

“Lead them once more when you’re healed. For now, rest so you can go in battle with them again. You’re next to your father, and if you die on that battlefield then who will lead us?” bravely you soothed his strong back, feeling him shiver once your fingertips made contact with his skin and your warm palm gives him great calm.

“You remind me of one specific person,” he says, and you wonder if it's one of his lovers, “you remind me of my mother. Who is a great queen of Egypt” and right then and there you feel guilty for judging a loving son who respects his mother so much. Hearing those words from him made you happy and proud of yourself because now you feel useful.

He pulls away from his soft embrace and looked deeply into your eyes, asking for permission to do something to you but he’s not saying anything. It’s his eyes who are doing the talking. “You may,” you said and let out a nervous giggle before the prince finally planted a kiss on your lips.

A kiss that’s wet and quick but made your whole body warm and you wish he would kiss you a little longer but who are you to request?

“I’ll take you somewhere private,” he said when he stopped the kiss and smirked.

And so in the middle of the night, you followed the prince to that private place he told you. Hand in hand you walk in the dark, exchanging whispers when you ask him something and he answers you.

“Close your eyes” he whispers and you followed immediately. Feeling him walk away for a few seconds and then he’s right behind you, feeling him motion you towards somewhere. And when you opened your eyes, what you just saw took your breath away.

A sky full of stars shining brightly and beautifully. You can’t take your eyes off of the sky because you’ve never seen anything like this and even though your neck already feels tired from looking up, you look a little bit longer and savor this very moment. “So this is where the prince of Egypt go whenever he’s tired? I assume?” you asked, smiling like a fool because you’re still mesmerized.

“Yes. This is where I think, hum a few songs, and be myself. No judging eyes, no wars- it’s quiet right? The only part of the palace where it’s really quiet. When I become pharaoh my room will be placed here and I will curse who dares to ruin my peace” he giggles to himself and points at the nearly done construction. The future bedroom of the new pharaoh, big, lavish, and peaceful. It suits him.

“I’m so tired of worrying and thinking about the future” he admitted weakly, closing his eyes and resting his head on yours. Embracing you from behind and caging you with his strong arms. Of course, this bold move made you nervous, the prince of Egypt is keeping you in his arms right now, who wouldn’t?

“Then you must rest,” you said and he only hummed and let out soft sighs.

“Can I have not only your lips but your whole being too?” he asked with the utmost care, careful not to offend you or make you feel like a whore. Then suddenly you feel his lips on your skin, cold lips that felt heavenly, soft lips that you imagine to be on yours. but he’s placing sweet kisses on your neck that made you gasp sharply, close your eyes and accept what he’s doing.

With heavy breaths and soft moans, you try so hard to let out a few words “Do you even need to ask? You’re the morning and evening star you should do as you please,” you croak.  

And because you have given him your consent, his kisses became intense that you’re sure you felt his teeth brush on your skin. And because of the pretty sounds that he’s making it is very much obvious that he is enjoying himself especially now that his big hands are roaming free around your body. Kneading your breast and telling you that they’re soft while his mouth is near your ear and he nibbles your earlobe as he pleases.

He twirls you and made you face him before he devours your lips once again, kissing you with want and with a mixture of lust while motioning you towards the huge bed. He sat on the edge of the bed, making you stand still in front of him, “Virgin?” he asked shamelessly, you shook your head 'no' shyly. “Shame” he added before he stands up and removes his robe, exposing himself to you. Now you understand why everyone in Egypt lusts for him.

Gently he runs his hands on your shoulder, untying the knot that secures your dress and letting it fall down at your feet. “Beautiful,” he says.

The night wasn’t exactly hot but the prince made you sweat in bed the whole night. He was careful but all the things that he did to you were rough, he was very stressed and tired indeed. The way he kisses you, the way he bites your neck and mark you his, the way he holds you in place while he thrusts so roughly. All you can do is whine deliciously, groan and let out sharp gasps and heavy breaths.

Again, he was rough but you loved everything that he’s doing.

“Last one and I promise to give you rest,” he said with ragged breaths. Lips on the side of your face while his big hands knead your breast from behind and preventing you to fall on the mattress. You arch your back as much you can so you can manage to take the overstimulation and sensitivity but the prince is fucking you good that your knees are about to give up.

When he is so close to his sweet release, he pushed your body on the mattress and slapped your left ass cheek one too many times before he pulls out and pumps his cock away from your hole.

Weak. Tired and aching. You curl your body and hug yourself as you wait for the prince to cover you with his warmth again. But not long after he came down from his sweet release, he is holding you by the ankle and the next thing you know he is hooking his arms around your legs, spreading your folds and running his fingers on your wet slit while watching you lose your mind and beg for him. His tongue was heavenly and he was licking you slow like he’s waiting for you to calm down and accept the pleasure that he’s doing. Up and down, he licked you slow and listened to you wherever you want him on a certain spot. And when you had your sweet release and let out a high pitched moan, you did not beg for him to stop and you chose to overstimulate yourself.

“You sleep in my arms tonight,” he says, kissing you sweetly before he lies beside you and spread one arm to keep you close.

Although you're both exhausted and tired from pleasuring each other, that is not the reason why you and the prince stayed up until the sun is rising. The whole time, he was playing with your fingers, caressing your body and feeling his fingertips glide on your skin while he listens to you. Listening and not just hearing you talk. He was keeping the conversation with you, throwing you a lot of questions, hard and easy ones. It was his first time knowing someone he fucked.

“Tell me more” he says, leaving a kiss on your shoulder as you enjoy your comfort while you lie on your side and admire his godlike features. He was asking for more stories about your childhood because he didn’t have one. He was giving you kisses in exchange for your stories that make him feel alive and present in this world.

“Are you not tired?” you asked him with a smile.

“Talk until I fall asleep” he drags you near him so he can cage you with his strong arms and keep you close until he wakes up. He closes his eyes and waited for you to talk again, drawing small circles on your back so you know that he’s still awake.

“Paint, I love to paint,” you said, and told him stories about how the colors make you feel alive and whenever you paint, you feel free. You were talking and talking and talking until you got too carried away and did not notice that he had finally fallen asleep and you decided you should too.

In his arms, you slept well and dreamt about home. You see how your family welcomed you home and their faces were clear as day, almost as if you’re not dreaming. Ever since the prince showed you kindness, you’ve been sleeping better and for that you are thankful. But for now, your beautiful sleep needed to be disturbed for a very sweet kiss woke you up.

“You smile in your sleep,” the prince says, greeting you good morning and seeing his naked body first thing in the morning. You sat up from the mattress and covered yourself with the Egyptian cotton blanket, squinting your eyes to protect it from the bright sun. “Good morning my gift,” he greets you again, caressing your thigh under the blanket. Oh its too early to commit sin but the way he makes you feel good with his finger is inviting. “Spread your legs,” he says, and so you did.

Up and down he moves his two fingers in your very wet slit, you almost feel sorry for ruining these expensive sheets with your juices, but what can you do? The prince wants you soaked. “You were so amazing last night that I dreamt about you,” he came closer to you and removed his fingers to join you under the blanket and position himself in between your legs.

“You had me under the stars last night, are you going to have me under the sun too?” You asked with a playful tone, giggling under the covers with him and enjoying the closeness of your body. He is a big man, but his warm body feels good on top of you. Skin to skin, chest to chest, while his manhood is inside you. “You’re rather gentle now,” you added, letting out a soft moan and smiling weakly at him.

“It’s too early to be rough” he smiles and grabs your waist, thrusting deeper while he kisses your neck and marks you wherever he wants especially on your chest area, or swipe his tongue on you and devour your sweet lips.

“Thank you, I still ache from last night” you inform him, returning his sweet kisses with a smile and soft giggle that is soon replaced with a delicious moan.

“Apologies then, what do you feel now?” deeper and slower he goes. Making you feel every bit of him by stretching you so good while he holds your hand and kisses them while he thrusts. “Not going to l-last longer” he says and gave you a few sharp thrusts, making your breast bounce then did not hesitate to pull out and pumped his manhood away from you, ruining the expensive sheets with his thick cum.

He feels so warm and weak, groaning while you watch him pump his cock in front of you. What a sight. The prince looked so hot. All naked and glistening as the morning light shines upon him. “Do you know it's a crime to stare at me like that?” He asks with a smile. It was a joke but you can’t help but think that you’re lucky enough to see him like this, to look at him with lustful eyes to hold him whenever it pleases you.

“W-were not yet done?” you ask when you saw him spreading your legs again, oh his stamina is unbelievable. He didn’t answer your question but instead, he kisses your lower abdomen and kissed your body and breasts until he reaches your lips. And there’s that feeling again that the world is stopping whenever his lips touch yours, you like what’s happening and you don’t care if you’re not home anymore. Or maybe that’s the lust talking.

“Where did you learn how to kiss like that” it was not a question, he just simply wanted to let you know that your kisses do something to him. And while kissing you, the prince felt something he has never felt before. He was quite sure that it’s called admiration and want. He is slowly becoming possessive with every swipe of his tongue on your lips, he is slowly falling into your charms with every touch of your hands on his chest and the way your hands roam around like he is yours.

“I know I promised your freedom but can you stay a little longer?” he kisses your hands and kept them close to his heart. A gesture that is saying he is requesting, asking politely, and leaving you the decision because he respects you.

“I’ll stay” you answered without hesitation because it is what your heart wants. He has been nice to you, although he needed to put an act first but his true colors were inviting. “With two conditions,” you added, stopping him from attacking you with kisses.

“No lies and don’t die whenever you go to war,” you said sternly to which he’s very happy to hear.

After that beautiful morning, you and the prince spend your entire day naked in his comfortable bed, enjoying the lovely weather of Egypt and its calm breeze. Talking and exchanging stories, knowing each other deeper and accepting each other through honesty.  

Then night after night the prince have you on every corner of his room or wherever he pleases. Making beautiful and lustful memories all around the palace. And whenever you’re both clothed and decent, he walks with you and shows everyone that you now have a special place in his life, something you’re never going to get used to but slowly it sinks in. You started dressing up in expensive clothes because he says so, giving you expensive jewelry all around your wrists and your neck. But most importantly, he is giving you more reasons to stay with him.

One fine day while you were waiting for Johnny with a book in your hand, he arrived very excited and was in a rush to bring you somewhere. Perhaps another secret place where he can fuck you? Or a surprise picnic? You really have no clue. But when you finally arrived at the place where he is very much excited to show you, every wild guess disappeared for you know exactly what the place is for.

Different colors of vibrant pigments, all came in different sizes. Paintbrushes from small to big ones made with soft hairs. And the canvas… is the place itself. “Johnny, this place is huge. I feel so small,” you said, feeling dizzy with how high the walls are but you are very much excited to paint on those.

“Paint all you want from now on, I know how you miss your home. I hope this will suffice” he gently pats your head, cup your face, and kissed you. “I have to go somewhere… dangerous again” he informs you, hoping to get a positive reaction from you.

Well, you can’t stop him and you know that all too well. You were quiet and if you’re being honest you don’t know what to say, but you do know that you want him to go home in one piece. “Remember your promise,” is all you can say to him.

“I won’t die” he giggles and intertwines your fingers with his.

When the prince left the next morning, you can’t help but worry for him and be scared that something bad might happen. But whenever you remember his bright smile when he promised you he won’t die, your heart warms instantly and you can finally get on with your day.

Using the gifts that the prince left you, you painted for hours and hours, from sun up until sundown. Sleeping on the floor next to the paints rather than the huge and comfortable bed because you can’t handle the cold there. And whenever you’re taking a rest from painting, you still spend your time alone rather than make friends and talk to the maids.

It was lonely when Johnny is not around. You don’t know when will he arrive, and worrying will do no good so you waited patiently instead. Day after day you did the same things. Paint, eat alone, be alone, paint some more and sleep on the cold floor.

Until finally, a pair of arms surprised you, encircled perfectly on your waist and you can finally feel that familiar warmth again. You put down the paintbrush and tried turning around to welcome him home with kisses but he stopped you. “I look filthy” he said, but you did not care and still turned around.

To your surprise, you almost did not recognize him. His face is full of dirt and blood, small and big bruises on his face but thankfully no broken bones this time. He was quiet. No sweet kisses for you and obviously he’s tired. “We both look dirty” he giggles and reached for your hand to wipe off the paint from it, “what you did here is beautiful” he said and pulls you to a hug which you returned without having second thoughts.

He recognizes your paintings. He is sure that it's from your home, memories from home to keep you happy perhaps. Johnny searched for anything or something that says you missed him too while he’s away, perhaps a sunflower? But he found none. Little did he know, that you missed him terribly too that you chose to sleep on the floor.

After your quick reunion, you washed his face, treated his wounds and decided to take a warm bath together. The silence was deafening and so you talked and talked until he finally says something.  

“Do I make you happy?” he asks sincerely while scrubbing your back and pouring warm water on your skin. Bathing with him brings you a different kind of calm. You nod your head ‘yes’ to answer his question, caressing his thighs underwater. Then you feel him kiss your neck softly and encircle his arms on your waist underwater.

“I’m setting you free” he says.

And those words made your heart ache in an instant that you turned and faced him with worried eyes. You should be happy by now because finally you can be free and see your family, but why are you sad? He just came back and now you’re going to be separated again?

“But” he added which made you nervous even more.

“It pains me to let you go. That’s why I promise to take care of you and love you day and night… if you choose to stay” you always see him as an honest and sincere man but now his sincerity is different. It has a mixture of hurt and hopelessness like he already knew you’re going to leave him that’s why he made such an offer and confessed in the middle of a huge bathroom and while taking a bath.

“A few months ago, I told you I’ll stay and that’s not because I’m doing you a favor but because I really wanted to stay with you. I’m still choosing to stay-“

He cut you off with sweet kisses until water splashed on you and him, there are tears in his eyes but it wasn’t visible because of the water. Happy tears that only you can give him.

And that is how your story with Johnny started. It started with doing what your heart wants with all honesty, choosing to love each other and stay together. After that very momentous bath, he became Johnny to you and not the prince of Egypt, but the man you chose to love from now on.

YEARS LATER    

Life with Johnny was never easy but it was full of love and he had kept his promise. Everyday, day and night he loved you more and more each day. And eventually, fucking was replaced by passionate love making which something you both love doing.

“So good” he groans and lets out soft moans while you bounce your body on top of him, driving him crazy and make him beg for more. You intertwined your fingers with his, sucking his fingers while your roll your hips deliciously. He can be rough with you in order to drive him mad, but you, you need only lustful eyes, your womanhood, and your tongue.

“Ooooh-“ he groaned a little louder than before and shoots his thick cum inside you while you drill your hips make sure you won’t miss a drop. “I hope you get pregnant this time” he said with ragged breaths, encircling his arms around you and placed sweet kisses on your face and on your lips.

You’ve been trying to have a child now but the gods are not in favor of it, so you and Johnny decided to try until you succeed. Usually, one round is not enough for the both of you but when you both realized that it’s going to be like this forever, there is no need to exhaust yourselves anymore because you can simply make love again tomorrow.  

“If you don’t mind me asking, how many babies are we going to have in the future?” your question made him laugh. The sound of his giggles vibrates on your body because you’re too close with each other and you can’t help but laugh with him too.

“A lot,” he simply answers your question and kisses you before he covers your body with a thicker blanket.

Life with Johnny is sweet, not because you’re now comfortable and he showers you with gold. But because he showers you with the love you deserve and he now takes care of your family too and even provided your father’s medicine. Even though you haven’t seen them in years, now they know that you’re in good hands for you write to them and let them know that you’re well. But for Johnny’s safety, you didn’t dare tell them that you are in a relationship with him.

It may be sweet and comfortable for you, but it is not always like this. Of course, there are hard times that you have to face with Johnny. Like when his advisors see you as his whore and not someone whom he truly loves, when his father did not accept you and almost took away Johnny’s right to the throne, and when you planned on running away so the people around him can stop doubting him as the future ruler. All these problems but Johnny chose you. Always.

“I love you”

He whispers and caressed your face while watching you sleep. Having one last look before he starts his day without you and faces yet another stressful day.  

Now that his coronation is getting near, many people have been seeking his attention and had been trying to rebel against him. He may be a great fighter, and he honors the throne, but the people around him do not see him as someone who can rule and solve the nation’s problems.

Heartbroken. That’s what he feels when he thinks about being king in the next few weeks.

“My uncle and cousins are active lately, seeking the people of Egypt’s hearts, courting them, and feeding them lies. My own family... is planning to overthrow me” he informs you. Frustrated and stressed beyond you could have ever imagined. It pains you to see him like this.

“I am no advisor. But be strong my love and still do your best to rule, prove them wrong” you encourage him, trying your best to give him strength. But all he gave you is a sly smile and a kiss on the forehead, leaving you to go and study more about the things he should know for his kingdom until eventually, you find him asleep on his desk. Shivering from a cold night and all you can do is put a blanket around him.

After a few weeks, Johnny is crowned king of Egypt. A celebration that’s very beautiful but you’re not allowed to stand near him because you’re a slave and people will recognize you. But you know all too well that Johnny imagines you being on his side.

They say that the crown is naturally heavy but if it weighs too much that even your heart can’t carry it, then you are not fit to rule. And that is exactly what Johnny feels right now, but trying is the most important thing for him. Running away from his duty is not him. He will continue to try and be a better pharaoh than his father.

“Where have you been?” you giggle and soothe his strong arms that are encircled around your waist. Accepting the kisses he’s giving to you for it has been far too long since the last time you’ve been together alone. He had been working hard for his nation, he looked tired than ever.

“It’s beautiful. You’re beautiful” he says while looking at the sunflowers you painted on the walls. A thousand sunflowers for the gods, in exchange for Johnny’s safety… or a child, if they permit. “I visited our room last night, but you weren’t there. I knew you were here but I needed to go already. I’ve missed you so much” he turned your body so he could see you finally, cleaning your hands full of paint with his own clothes. A gesture that simply tells you that whenever he’s with you he’s just a simple man who loves you so much and not the king of Egypt.

“I’ve been sleeping on the floor. I’m in a rush to finish this so I can finally offer something to the gods and they can grant me my wish” you rake his long hair away from his face.

“Now, now, that’s not how a future queen of Egypt should behave, my love” he smirked and you rolled your eyes, picking up the used paintbrushes and cleaning them.

Then you realized he said something.

“Say that again, my love” you request as you watch him come closer to you with a smile. “Was that a question? You never addressed me as someone-“

“Will you marry me? Be the queen of Egypt and become my wife? Be my best advisor, help me to be a better man?” he finally said it. Straight forward and will all honesty, as always.

“Y-yes. Of course, I would like to be your wife. But your people won’t allow it,” you answered excitedly. Eyes with tears that continuously flow. He cupped your face and thanked you for saying yes, not caring about your concern for he doesn’t care what others will say.

The celebration of being engaged is continued in your shared room with wine, fruits, hope, and dreams. It was a night a fun night with your future husband where you enjoy the company of each other after such a long time. Johnny made sure that you made the right decision and promised you a better life.

“What more could be better? We have everything already Johnny” you put a grape in his mouth before you lie beside him.

“What was your prayers to the gods again?” he asks, out of nowhere. To be honest you did not expect he would be interested. “Maybe I can give it to you instead?” he added and it instantly made your heart full.

“My first prayer is, for your safety wherever you go. Nothing scares me the most than knowing that wherever you go, your life is always in danger my love” he tightens his embrace, silently thanking the gods for bringing you into his life.

“And the second?”

You breathe deeply first before you answer him, “A baby… but your safety comes first” you said sternly, pointing at his chest and drilling your pointer finger on his skin so he knows how scared you are. He caught your hand and kiss it one too many times.

“I love you, I promise to be careful so we can make babies during our marriage,” he promised sincerely.

On the next day, Johnny’s first agenda was to tell everyone about the good news. At least its a good news for him, but not for everyone. His father, advisors and other members of the elite society were disappointed upon hearing that he wants to marry a slave.

When Johnny became king, all of Egypt starved. That’s why everyone thinks that being married to a slave and throwing a big wedding is not appropriate.

“Do you think I’m a pushover? I am the morning and evening star, your king, and I kept this nation together and kept it safe with all my power. You owe me your lives. And I am not seeking your approval, I am simply telling you that I am to be married to the woman I love. Besides, I don’t want to see your faces on my wedding day and ruined it for me”

Silence ate the room and only the sound of afternoon winds surrounds the room. “Dismissed” he commands and they immediately left, leaving Johnny alone with his thoughts.

The wedding was simple and private because it is what you wanted and thankfully Johnny is not a fan of grand celebrations too. You both thought that the gods will spare your wedding day and give you a peaceful day just this once. But no, because a murder took place in the palace and it happened while you and Johnny are enjoying your wedding night.

He is deep inside you, thrusting roughly but with care at the same time. Hands on your waist to keep you in position as he fucks you from behind and leave kisses on your shoulders.

You were moaning so good, while you grip the sheets and part your lips, telling your husband how you feel and beg for more.

Until his advisors entered the room uninvited and have no care for privacy. Johnny quickly covered your body and hid you behind him. “YOU HAVE NO RESPECT!” He shouted so loud that you were sure everyone in the palace heard him.

But still, his advisors did not move an inch and waited for him to stop shouting.

“Our king... y-your parents have been murdered”

And that is when everything turned black in Johnny’s eyes. He put on his robe, ran towards his parent's room and saw the gruesome murder.

He didn’t understand why but he was heartbroken and very much angry that he punished all the guards on duty that night and everyone staying at the palace except you.

Well, you wouldn’t think that you’re not being punished. You’ve been feeling sick for days already and you have been having morning sickness more often. Then you realized you haven’t bled yet and immediately called a nurse, a good friend whom you can trust to confirm if you are with child.

You are.

And that is your punishment. Knowing that your prayer has been answered but Johnny is grieving and is away from you. Not seeing your husband and knowing that he’s out there punishing people, punishing innocent people makes your heart break. Apparently, asking for a peaceful life is too much.

Finally, Johnny found out who plotted his parent’s murder. And it is no other than his cousins who wanted him to give up the throne. And because of that, his anger grew much worse. Now he does not only punish people but also put them to death for Johnny believes that he is being betrayed by the people around him.

It has become the darkest time in Egypt.

“The is the only place that I can show my weak and grieving side. I’m so tired, my love. This is not me but all of Egypt is mad and wants to kill me. What can I do?” You hush him and gave him a tight embrace which he accepted and returned. “Do you want to kill me too?” He asks you and you can’t believe you’re hearing this from him.

“Never. I did not paint a thousand sunflowers for the gods so that I can wish you to be gone” you sat on his lap and reached for his hand, putting it above your belly. Hoping that he understands what you’re saying.

He did. But he wasn’t happy.

And all you can do is understand him because he is going through so much right now.

“The gods must hate me so much to give us a child during these dark times” he said bitterly.

You didn’t have a choice but to get up from his lap and place a kiss on his temple. You may miss him. So much. But it is useless to have a conversation with someone who’s full of hatred towards the world.

“I’m sorry, my love. I’m blinded with anger” he tried reaching for your hand but you refuse and lie on your side of the bed. Closing your eyes and remembering the happy memories you had with him over the years.

“Do you know what’s on my mind?” you did not answer him, “I would like to give up the throne and live a simple and fruitful life with you but I can’t. Kings don’t run away from battles” he says. Keeping you close and leaving kisses on your clothed stomach. Chanting apologies and saying how much he loves you before you both sleep.

Day after day, Johnny became even more scared for you and especially for your child. Now that you have a chance to be a family, Johnny is even more obsessed with fixing everything using his own ways but everything is not going according to plan. The assassins weren’t satisfied yet and they have been killing innocent people that Johnny trusts. And his cousins won’t admit the crime that they have been doing for Johnny lacks proof. It frustrates him greatly.

Now that you’re with child he stays with you from sun up, to sundown. He doesn’t care if people are uncomfortable with seeing the king with a slave, all that matters now is your safety. He is scared to the bone that he carries his sword around him and does not go to sleep so he could guard you in your sleep.

“I used to do this during your first nights here. I guard you in your sleep and watch you smile as you dream. But that’s maybe because back then we have peace. I’m sorry I can’t give you a peaceful life”

As Johnny continues to think of many ways on how to protect you, he kept you hidden in your museum and watched you paint. It calms him. And as he looks around the place, he looked long and hard at your artwork and remember the days when you used to miss home. Then he realized that it is the only way to keep you safe. The only problem is you will not agree on it.

“You do know that when I leave and they found out that you’re all alone now, they will not stop until they kill you then take your throne” you said sternly. Hearing his plan about sending you home makes you angry and misses him already.

“As long as I fight until the end. The only way to stop them and keep you safe is to give them the satisfaction of killing me. No one knew about our child, please listen to me my love. This is the only way that I can give our child a peaceful life” he begs.

You don’t want to admit that he is right and you don’t have any other choice now. But leaving him pains you greatly, that even just thinking about it scares you.

Eventually, you and Johnny plotted your escape and made you go home safe. With the help of your family and a few soldiers, they managed to get you out of the palace without anyone noticing it. But you can’t let go of Johnny’s hand. You kissed and kissed until there's no more time left to be together. You said your goodbyes and final promises to each other and accept your fate.

“I’ll find you in our second life, whatever happens. Live my love, live happily” he says and removed your tight grip before he disappears with his soldiers. And that is your last memory of the man you loved.

It was the darkest moment for the both of you.  

Johnny knew that being away from you will not be easy and it will make him weak in an instant. In fact, it made him crazy. Everyday, he goes to your museum and seeks comfort with your paintings. Constantly thinks about you and pray that you are well and healthy.  

“Finally, you’re safe” he murmured.

After a few days, the news that the king is dead has spread all across Egypt and everyone celebrated. Everyone except you and the few people who knew the truth about the assassination in the palace. Hearing them celebrate sickens you for they don’t know how Johnny struggled to keep his nation alive and safe and that he is not the enemy, the true enemy is the one sitting on the throne now.

Hearing that he was assassinated in your museum broke your heart for you knew that he longed for you until his dying breath.

After all, the thousand sunflowers you painted for the gods did not go to waste. But it was your second wish that they granted and not the first.

#nct-writers #neosmutcollective #kpopscape #neowritingsnet #kwritersworldnet #cznnet #kdiner #nct smut #johnny smut #johnny nct #nct johnny #johnny fluff #nct johnny fluff #nct johnny x reader #nct x reader #nct #nct 127 smut #nct 127 fluff #nct 127 angst #nct angst #nct johnny angst #nct johnny smut

[sparrownatural]

there’s too much pain

GOOD MORNING VIETNAM!

Sam sat bolt upright in bed, his eyes wide, his chest heaving, his fingers curling into the sheets beneath him. It took him a full minute and a half to see his bedroom in the bunker rather than the cage he’d thrown himself into in the pits of Hell. 

Sorry if it’s a bit chilly. Most people think I burn hot. It’s actually quite the opposite.

He began trembling, wrapping his arms around his large frame, making him look a lot smaller than he actually was.

It took him a lot longer than that to convince himself he really wasn’t in the cage anymore.

A wrestling match inside your noggin? I like the idea. Just you and me, one round? No tricks. You win, you jump in the hole. I win... well then I win. What do you say, Sam? A fiddle of gold against your soul says I’m better than you.

It took everything inside him to not get up and fling his fist against the wall. 

He squeezed his eyes tight shut.

Dean would’ve done that. And maybe it would help. But Sam stayed put.

Putting his fist through the wall wouldn’t solve anything, not really. In fact, it would probably make the hallucinations, the nightmares, that much worse. 

Sam pressed his thumb against the scar on his palm again. 

Dean’s voice echoed through his mind, loud and crystal clear.

You have to make it stone number one and build on it.

But it was nowhere near loud enough to drown out the other voices murmuring in the background.

Sam grimaced.

The nightmares and the hallucinations were going to be worse. 

Already, images of the past began to filter their way through his mind and Sam trembled in his bed.

He saw himself lying on a bed of nails, each sharp point digging into his back, making him scream as they went through fat and muscle and finally reached bone.

He saw himself nailed to a cross, his palms and soles dripping blood to a floor he couldn’t see. 

This he’d accepted gracefully.

He saw the twisted features of his brother that wasn’t his brother above him as a hand held him down on his knees, forcing him to do things he never consented to in the first place. 

He saw cage bars and walls as he felt the perpetrator of these terrors do a whole lot worse than that.

He couldn’t even say his name now. Nor could he think it. 

What, are you a pussy, Sammy? Can’t even say my name?

Sam grimaced and flinched. 

“Sammy?” 

Again, Sam flinched. 

When he saw his brother standing in the doorway to his bedroom, his eyes wide and alarmed, his chest heaving just as his little brother’s had been a moment ago, his hands bracing himself against the doorjamb, he realized must’ve screamed or shouted or something. 

Sam swallowed hard and forced a smile. “I’m fine,” he insisted.

Maybe he’s a hallucination, too. Maybe you’re still trapped in Hell with me, Sam. You know how many times I took on his skin to show you what true violence was. 

Oh yes, he did. 

He did indeed.

I’ve been waiting for you for a long long time. Come on, Sam. You have to admit, you can feel it, right? The exhilaration. And you know why that is? Because we are two halves made whole. M.F.E.O. Literally.

His impulse to break his knuckles against the wall strengthened considerably.

“Sam?”

“I said I’m fine, Dean.”

He was still holding himself, wanting more than anything for it to be his brother’s arms around him, just so he could, at least, know he was real. 

But the thought of being touched by anyone at all?

It made him shudder and gasp and grimace. 

Touch meant nothing good. Not anymore. Now it meant pain and horror and fright. 

He thought of their childhood, of all they had suffered at the hands of their father and, sometimes, others who liked to take advantage of homeless little boys. 

That looked like a fairytale after his time in the cage, and how could he ever truly survive after that?

He had no answers for that. 

He could tell from the look on Dean’s face, he didn’t either.

You can’t lie to me. I see it all. How odd you always felt. How out of place in that family of yours. And why shouldn’t you have? They were foster care, at best! I’m your real family!

It was the very last thing Sam wanted to believe, and yet, how could he ever possibly argue?

Was it not Dean that had told him he misbehaved too much and that was why their father favored him over Sam? Was it not their father who had told him to never come back if he went to college? 

And was he not the one of the three of them – the four of them if he included the mother he’d never known – that had demon blood running through his veins? 

It was very hard to disagree with logic and facts. 

Sam had always been one for both. Had he not been going to school to be a lawyer after all?

All those times you ran away, you weren’t running from them: you were running towards me.

“Sam?” 

Dean’s voice again.

Again, Sam trembled, unsure not if it was from fright or chill.

“I know you’re not him,” he whispered at last, not looking at his brother. “I know you’re not real.”

Sam didn’t see it, his gaze instead fixated on the floor at the foot of his bed, but Dean deflated, his shock morphing into overwhelming anguish. 

It had been months since Sam was forced to reenter the cage. 

Or rather, in Dean’s opinion, since he’d allowed his brother to put himself back there.

He’d thought it was a bad idea from the beginning and had tried everything in his power to convince Sam that he should do otherwise. 

Nothing had worked.

And now Sam was falling apart again.

He still remembered with stark clarity the way the mental hospital his brother had been taken to when he couldn’t sleep had looked. 

He remembered how it smelled too, but no one ever asked him about that one.

He wasn’t sure he’d be able to talk about it without screaming anyway.

If it makes you comfy, you could call me God.

Sam didn’t know it, but Dean had heard him whisper that in his sleep more than once. 

Sam had been through too much and Dean knew he’d blame himself forever.

Sam saw none of this battle going on behind his brother’s eyes. He only trembled and stared at nothing with eyes glazed over like the Krispy Kreme donuts Dean used to buy. 

He used to eat the whole box of them too.

“Sam, it’s just me,” he heard the soft, careful voice of his brother say somewhere off to his right. “You’re safe, okay? You’re home.”

Home. 

He had a home now. That was right.

He hadn’t ever had one of those before. Not in his living memory.

Sam blinked and looked up at Dean.

Come on, Sam. Pay attention to me, I’m bored!

He didn’t.

Dean was right there in front of him.

And he knew his tormentor would never ever call this place home, not even in the depths of his most perverse delusions. 

He would never allow him to think, for even a second, he had any sort of sense of security. 

“Dean…” Sam gasped at last and, without thinking, reached for his brother, again four years old. 

Dean came to him, his own arms outstretched, and the moment Sam saw them, his eyes went wide, and he pushed himself back. He pushed himself back so far he fell off the bed. He hardly noticed the pain as he pressed himself up against the concrete wall of his bedroom. 

“Don’t touch me!” he gasped, his eyes wide with fear. 

The agony in Dean’s eyes intensified. 

This is your fault, something whispered in his mind. You let him go back there and now look what’s happened to him. Because of you.

If Dean had had a gun right then, he very likely would’ve shot them both.

“Please…don’t touch me…” Sam’s eyes filled with tears as he stared up at his brother, the images of his time in the cage very slowly evaporating and leaving behind reality. 

And something more than that too.

Vague memories of when he was two and six and three and four and eight and twelve and sixteen all flashing through his mind all at once. 

Dean picking him up after he skinned his knees on the playground at school.

Dean making him breakfast, lunch, and dinner when their father was gone for weeks on end.

Dean giving him Christmas presents because their father forgot.

Dean letting him curl up next to him in bed because it was thundering out or he’d had a nightmare.

And now there was Dean again, standing on the other side of the bed, tears in his own eyes, as he watched his little brother suffer through things that, even as a survivor of Hell himself, he couldn’t possibly imagine.

He had spent only a fraction of the time Sam had in the pit and, while that had damaged him, the damage it had done to Sam was on another level entirely.

A ragged breath escaped Sam and, just as before, he reached for him and whispered, “Dean…”

Dean, very slowly, walked around the bed, kneeled before his brother, and gathered him in his arms. He buried his face in his baby brother’s hair, his fingers also curling in the soft strands.

Sam, just as slowly as his brother had moved towards him, wrapped his arms around Dean, his eyelids fluttering shut, a shuddering breath leaving him on a long sigh.

You’re betting on Dean?

I always have.

For the first time in what felt like his entire life, Sam Winchester felt safe.

#spn #supernatural #sam winchester #sam winchester fic #wincest #gencest #fic rec #fanfic #fanfiction #fic #spn fic #spn fic rec #spn fanfic #spn fanfiction #wincest fic rec #wincest fic #wincest fanfic #wincest fanfiction #gencest fic rec #gencest fic #gencest fanfic #cage!sam #supernatural fic #supernatural fic rec #supernatural fanfic #sam winchester fic rec #hymns #i got this as a request and i rly rly hope i did it justice!!!!

[gryffindors-weasley]

It’s Not Living If It’s Not With You

Young!Sirius Black x Reader

Summary: After several moments having gone by of the two of you skirting around your feelings, the right time finally arises.

Word Count: 5.9k oops

Warnings: mild angst, smoking, mutual pining, fluff, kissing

It had been no secret that Sirius Black had a penchant for walking on the wild side, for being braver than most in nearly everything he’s done and will do. There were times where he had been perhaps too adventurous for his own good, but that would never stop him from continuing on with his habits. There was never a dull moment so long as he was around for it, but, over the years he’s come to realize those moments aren’t complete unless one person in particular is there to share them with. You.

October 19, 1977

You stood at the base of the carpeted stairs with your arms crossed over your chest, lips parted as you tried your hardest to mull over the words just spoken to you. The offer just given to you that required an answer of approval; anything other than yes simply wouldn’t be accepted. That would be downright ridiculous.

“On a what?” You ask once you’d thought about it for a few seconds, unsure if you’d even heard him correctly and immediately hushed for your nearly too loud tone of surprise.

Sirius stood before you with a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth as he tucked his hair behind his ear, a chunk falling back in his face. His smile was far more than telling that he was up to no good at all, but you were beginning to realize that he hardly ever was. He lifted his hand and swirled the lone set of glimmering metallic keys around his finger, his smile only widening at the thought running through his mind.

“A drive,” he said, speaking as if it were completely and utterly normal to be taking his best friends’ fathers car without permission. As if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

A laugh fell past his lips upon seeing your mouth open and close a few times in confusion, in contemplation, head tilted and brows furrowed as you looked up at him curiously. “You are planning on taking Mr. Potter’s beloved car?”

He nods, “yes, Y/n/n, that’s the one.”

“And you’re planning on dragging me along to get in the inevitable trouble you’ll be getting into once he sees it’s missing?”

“That’s the idea, yes,” he smiles.

You squint up at him and meet his gray gaze, his own stare holding something akin to mischief as he was rapidly growing more antsy and impatient by the second with your hesitancy. You turn and look over your shoulder, peering into the living room just mere paces away from where the two of you had stood in the Potter household. Mr. Potter had been reclined in his favorite chair as a miscellaneous television show had been playing, fast asleep with that morning’s paper in his lap and his glasses halfway down his nose. The setting sun had been spilling through the open blinds, casting stripes of orange on the walls as a lamp on an end table illuminated the room.

Mrs. Potter had taken her knitting elsewhere to avoid her husband’s very obvious snoring, presumably tucked away comfortably in their bedroom and would likely remain there except to wake her husband should he not be in bed by ten o’clock. James hadn’t come home yet, having been out in the town with Lily. Time never seemed to exist when he was with her, always finding himself returning home far past curfew to be teased by Sirius for being too lovestruck for his own good. Though, it was something James had readily fired back because he too was just as in love even though he’d denied it.

So, needless to say, Sirius was bored and itching to get out of the house.

You turned back to him with pursed lips, his brow raised in anticipation as he rocked back and forth from his heels to his toes.

“Why do I feel like this isn’t the first time you’ve done this?” You ask, voice just above a whisper.

“Oh, come on.” His eye roll is immediate as he grabs your hand, tugging you out of the door with a smile on his lips. You tried not to let your cheeks burn at the feel of his hand in yours, the hand that had yet to let go as he looked back and smiled at you. “And no, it’s not the first time.”

It was your turn to roll your eyes now as he let go of your hand in favor of opening your door with a dramatic wave of his hand to gesture towards your seat, nearly walking into the hood of the pristine car from being far too busy sending you a smile. He makes up for it as he hops over the door and into the driver’s seat with ease, flashing you a smile as he puts the keys in the ignition.

He pauses for a few seconds seemingly not of his own accord, momentarily taken by the way the setting sun glimmers on your skin and sparkles in your eyes. By the way you’re smiling at him even when he’s being a complete idiot who trips over his own two feet because he’s too busy doing exactly what he is doing in the current moment. Staring.

He often wonders how he manages to stay so collected around you, exchanging his fond feelings for charm and witty comebacks to your even wittier quips. But clearly, so clearly his attempts to appear so collected were rapidly crumbling around him with each passing second he spends staring at you. Though even so, he finds he doesn’t have it in him to cut it out.

“Well, are we going to drive or wait for Mr. Potter to catch us?” You tease, pinching his chin gently in your hand to further your taunting. “If you take a picture it just might last longer.”

He rolls his eyes and puts the car in gear, setting off down the road. You pretend your stomach isn’t a mess of butterflies at the way he’d been gazing, you try to keep your mind from playing into the flurry of possibilities of what it might mean. But absolutely nothing could stop the way your cheeks burned as a result, but the wind in your hair was easy to focus on, the wind pressing on your palms as you stuck your hands above you.

Sirius let out a holler as he sped off down the countryside, the breeze sifting through his hair as your brief moment of shared smiles only added to the exhilaration you felt having taken the car without permission. As he turned the radio up to an ever familiar classic rock song.

Yeah, it was totally worth it.

March 7, 1978

The common room was filled with giddy gryffindors and colored team flags that night, half of them still cheery over the outstanding victory of the quidditch team earlier that evening. Still dressed in their jerseys, their faces still painted red and yellow. The other half were having just as much fun as an endless amount of laughter filters through the room and bounces off its stone walls.

James, of course, had been amongst the happiest—it was his team that had won after all. And Lily had fallen close behind him, her fond gaze set on her lover as much as she would beg to differ. Remus was just happy to be there in the moment with his best friends, his smile near constant much like everyone else in the room.

Everything was a haze of gryffindor colors; red pillows scattered on the floor from those who’d stood on the couches, ruffled tapestries along the walls. The latest hits from Queen and ABBA had been playing on repeat as everyone in the room had been having the night of their lives in the name of victory, good natured fun filling boisterously in the cozy space. It was a good night really, but everyone you’d hoped to be there wasn’t in attendance, the one person you found yourself wanting to see most wasn’t there.

Sirius.

He’d disappeared shortly after the match, one he’d sat through with merely half as much enthusiasm as he’d usually had in support of one of his best friends. Of course he’d made it a priority to congratulate him on his winning, he always had and he always will, but you were quick to realize even amongst the bustling crowd of cheerful teens that he hadn’t made it back to the common room with the rest of the group.

It was entirely too easy to tell when he wasn’t around, it always was. Things had lacked a certain light, a certain energy only his charisma could bring forth in anywhere he’d gone. It wasn’t far off to say that he’d been important to your tight knit group of friends; he was chaotic, he was rebellious, he was Sirius.

You had barely gone ten minutes in that party before you found yourself slipping from the common room in search of your best friend. You knew just where to find him as you navigated the dimly moonlit corridors with purpose in your stride, the music still ringing in your ears despite your otherwise quiet surroundings. He was rather predictable to the select few who knew him almost better than he knew himself, but you still held hope in your heart that he’d be just where you’d felt he’d run off to as you climbed the spiral staircase.

You were right.

A soft smile tugged at the corner of your mouth when your gaze fell upon the raven haired boy, his dimpled chin in his palm as he sat alone. His gaze was set on the stars above, glimmering bright and high in the sky in the perfect view given from the astronomy tower. You sighed softly at the sight of him before you, shoulders slumping a bit as you approach him.

“The party is downstairs, you know,” you spoke lightheartedly, moving to sit down with him and nudging him with your elbow when you did so. “It happens to be one of our last here.”

“I’m not really in the partying mood, Y/n/n,” he grumbles with a soft huff, his gaze focused ahead of him and his jaw clenching. Though he finds himself nudging you knee with his moments later in hopes that it’d soften the accidental harshness of his tone. He hadn’t meant to sound so irritated, especially not with you.

You sigh softly, your eyes dropping to where he’d been continuously picking at a hole in the knee of his jeans before lifting to him once more. You were certain you knew just what was plaguing his mind for the entirety of the day, at least that long and possibly more. It wasn’t uncommon for him to linger on the past and rightfully so, but you decided against speaking further on the subject as a smile pulls at the corners of your mouth.

“Are you ever?” You jest, making light of the brooding expression on his face.

He finally looks at you then, his eyes narrowed in a gray stare at your words as he tries his very hardest to stifle his smile. “Have you come to bother me, Y/n?”

You shoved at his shoulder lightly as your mouth fell agape in only half surprise at his words, laughter leaving your lips nonetheless as you squinted up at him. “Sirius Orion Black, I wholeheartedly believe it is my job to bother you.”

He rolls his eyes then, a scoff sounding and soon to be followed by the laugh leaving his lips as he shook his head. “Well I’m wholeheartedly convinced that you’re doing a wonderful job.”

His quip is as lighthearted as your own as you share a look of scrunched noses and faux frowns, ones that fade into soft smiles as you bring yourself to look away before your cheeks burn redder than the crimson shirt you’d been wearing. Unbeknownst to you, and something that he doesn’t plan to shed any light on, he was grateful for the lack of proper lighting otherwise you just might see the matching shade of red on his face. Something only ever achievable by you even if you hadn’t known it.

Your mingled laughter had quieted as you sat with him, and you couldn’t help but to steal another glance in his direction. His lingering smile was evident even as strands of black hair splayed across his cheek from where they’d once been tucked behind his ear. One that just minutes before was far from making its appearance when he’d sat there by himself and drowned in the gravity of his past leading up to this point.

His closest friends had never failed to bring out the absolute best in him, something he found himself immensely grateful to have. To be able to be loyal to people he knows will always want what is best for him. But as he sits there, no longer alone as he had been in that tower for a short while, he’s with the one person he had hoped would come looking for him. The one person always stuck on his mind and he knows you always will be.

You found it in yourself to look away from your best friend just a little too late as you bit the inside of your cheek, having known he’d caught your stare but too prideful to check and make sure he really had. Instead, you drop your head to rest on his shoulder and grab his hand with a squeeze, the softest of reminders that you were there. It was an action that made his heart flutter and race all the same.

“Eager to hold my hand, Y/n?” He teases, his charm making its reappearance.

You lift your head and release his hand with a poorly attempted glare, holding his gaze only briefly before you fell back into your previous position. “You really do make it terribly hard to tolerate, do you know that, Sirius?”

His smile widens as your words, his laughter sounding once more.

“Well, I wholeheartedly believe it is my job to do so,” he states, repeating your earlier choice of words as he rests his head atop yours.

“And I’m wholeheartedly convinced you’re doing a wonderful job.”

He nudges your foot with his converse in response, cheek still pressed to the top of your head as he laughs when you do the same. You really were something else entirely and he knew that, you were witty and fierce and entirely too extraordinary for him to begin to fathom. He’s quiet for a moment as he thinks things over, as he enjoys your company and the way you chose to leave the fun of the party in favor of finding him. Yeah, he still can never believe it. He’s quiet for a few more moments as he mulls over his next words.

“I didn’t say you had to let go of my hand,” he mumbles, tossing it out as a suggestion he hopes you understood the point of.

He didn’t have to wonder too long as your hand soon slips in his once more, thumbs crossing over and fingertips curling over the backs of your clasped hands. A softer smile is shared but unseen, and he’s quickly reminded that a moment like this is much better than being by himself, than being at a celebratory party.

June 19, 1979

The lake. It was a meeting spot to rival all others the very moment your group of friends had first laid eyes on it. The discovery was entirely accidental, something stumbled upon in an attempt to find the absolute perfect spot to camp. In fact, it was so perfect that James had tied one of his old shirts around a tree branch for future visits, to unofficially claim it as your own. It was absolutely incredible and seemingly unknown to most anyone else which you found next to impossible—it was too amazing not to be. But, whenever the trip was made, which was more often than not, no one else had ever been there to spoil the fun.

Clusters of wildflowers and dozens upon dozens of trees lined the perimeter of the open water, each one a different height than the last but all extraordinarily beautiful in their own way. Those very trees were also perfect for tucking yourself against with your favorite book at the moment, the right amount of shade to combat the summer sun so long as you’ve got a blanket to sit on.

“Do you think they’ll ever get tired of throwing each other in the water?” Lily asks, a smile on her lips as she shakes her head.

You follow her gaze to the sight ahead of you, Sirius over James’ shoulder having had his fate set in stone as he’s thrown into the lake with an unceremonious landing. You watched as he rose to the surface, mouth agape in shock at the completely expected action as he’s quick to cast an aguamenti spell in his best friend’s direction. It wasn’t until his gaze fell upon you that you found it the right time to look away, his smile too distracting for your own good as your cheeks burned at the brief moment. One that most certainly did not go unnoticed by a very intelligent Lily Evans.

You were fairly positive that there wasn’t a single thing that could get past her, especially not the very obliviously in love friends she’s got. It wasn’t exactly hard to tell either, she’s sure that a complete stranger could even see it if they’d spent merely five minutes in the same room with the top of you. Your rosy cheeks and unbreakable smile were telling enough of that very fact, a reaction most always elicited by the dark haired goofball not far away.

“No, I don’t think they will,” you finally manage once you realize you hadn’t answered her yet. Your gaze darts to her once more and her eyes are already cast on you, her brow raised and the corner of her mouth quirked up. “What?”

She rolls her eyes, a laugh falling from her lips as she shakes her head once more. “You really are terrible at hiding your feelings, you know.”

Your mouth falls open slightly as your brows furrow, a scoff sounding as if she’d been entirely absurd. “Feelings? Don’t be ridiculous, Lily.”

“Then I suppose you’re blushing just for the fun of it, you’re smiling over absolutely nothing?” She says, getting up from her checkered blanket and walking backwards away from you.

“And where are you going?”

“Seems like someone can’t stay away from you!” She jests rushing off towards James after tossing a wink your way, leaving you to frown and scoff once more.

It wasn’t until you pulled your gaze from her that you understood what she was getting at, the very one in question making his way undoubtedly towards you. Your eyes rolled as you bit the inside of your cheek to contain your grin, your grip on your book clutching tighter as he approached you.

“You better not be looking to throw me in the lake,” you state, brow raised as you cross one ankle over the other.

“Are you going to read all day, Y/n?” He asks, snatching the sunglasses from the top of your head just to see your frown. His grin only became more teasing at the very audible huff leaving your lips at the action.

“Perhaps I just might be able to if you stop distracting me,” you quip, frowning as you watch the smile on his lips widen.

“Then I guess that’s just too bad,” he counters, fully realizing what you had just said in that moment as a smirk appears. “Wait a minute, I’m distracting?”

You shake your head and bite back your smile again as he sits the red framed sunglasses on his nose and roots around in his shoe, pulling out a cigarette and a lighter he kept tucked in there when he wasn’t wearing them much to your obvious dismay. And as if it weren’t already terribly obvious that he’d known of said feelings, his laughter before even seeing your expression was telling enough of that very fact.

“Sirius,” you start, frowning as his mischievous grey stare meets yours. “I told you not to smoke near my books. One wrong move and you’ll burn the pages.”

He’s quick to laugh as he lights it, nearly choking on the smoke as he’d done so and you laughed in response to it. “Y/n, that’s most definitely impossible and you know it. Besides, when have I ever followed the rules?”

He laid his head in your lap, his raven hair splaying across your legs and dampening the corners of your book pages and you’re absolutely convinced he’d done it on purpose. They’d warped almost in an instant and you huffed, knowing immediately that getting any form of quality reading done would be next to impossible beyond that point. Not with the smoke billowing away from you or your best friend making little effort to take your mind elsewhere.

“Those shades aren’t hiding the fact that you’re staring, you know,” you say, peering down at him over the wrinkled pages of your book.

He scoffed at your accusation, though a smile still tugged at his lips as he swiped the book from your hand and took another puff from his cigarette. “Was not,” he defends, though the way the very corners of his mouth quirk up and the softest of blushes stain his cheeks, you know you’d hit the nail on the head. He lifts the cherry red glasses and looks at you, no longer attempting to fight his smile before lowering them and letting his head fall back in your lap. “I definitely was not.”

“Yeah, whatever you say,” you sigh, grinning up at the sky as you toss your book to the side. “Whatever you say.”

September 30, 1979

The wedding of James and Lily was perhaps the most special event that was shared amongst your group of friends, the most celebratory. It had been a small one; you were quite sure there weren’t more people there than you could count in both your hands, just close friends and family.

The location was nothing short of perfect and familiar; the beloved clearing by that lake you all had treasured so fondly. The trees had begun to fade from rich greens to even richer reds and oranges, the wild flowers still in full bloom regardless of the cooling temperatures as fall began to become noticeable.

This was perhaps one of the few and rare occasions everyone had dressed up, and even then you’d have to say it was rather casual compared to most weddings you could think of. But Lily and James weren’t ones to follow the norm, though Sirius had most certainly been pushing the envelope. He’d showed up in a suit of James’, his grass stained converse not failing to make their appearance to top off the otherwise perfect outfit. Lily hadn’t been exactly thrilled at the best man’s choice in shoes, but she quickly focused her attention on more pressing matters. Marrying the love of her life.

It couldn’t have been more perfect than it was, having been surrounded by the people that mattered most to everyone. Not a dry eye was left, especially not from Sirius and Remus, even more so Sirius. He’d tried his hardest to deny the fact that he was absolutely most certainly emotional over the union of two of his best friends, having cleared his throat more often than nod to rid himself of the lump within it. But no matter how hard he’d tried to play tough, it was far more obvious that he wasn’t as he read his speech.

Now, as the sun had nearly completely set and the night had begun, it was then that you found yourself reunited with the one person you always seemed to think about. The one person that had joined James and Remus in being the life of the party. Not a dull moment would ever exist so long as they were in attendance.

“Might I have this dance with you, Y/n?” He asks, a goofy smile on his lips and his hand outstretched towards you.

You rolled your eyes at his rather disheveled appearance, his once pristine suit now looking worse for wear as he’d discarded his blazer somewhere that would probably take some searching to find. The top buttons of his dress shirt had been undone, the very collar ruffled and his sleeves rolled up and wrinkled. Not to mention it was half untucked ever since he’d gotten his start on karaoke; all else had become unimportant the moment Queen had come on.

Perhaps your most favorite part of his newfound look was the black tie that disappeared from around his neck in favor of being tied around his head. Either he had no clue it was there or he simply didn’t mind the fact that it was, and your bets were on a little bit of both. His hair was a bit of a mess as it fell over the fabric on his forehead, but one thing had remained constant the entirety of that day. His smile.

“A dance?” You repeat, unable to fight your own grin as you look from his hand to his gaze.

The corners of his mouth quirk up higher than they’d been in that moment as his eyes roll. “I’ve only been waiting the whole night.”

“Is that so?” You inquire, slipping your hand in his and you’re quick to be pulled closer. Your giddy squeal of surprise had sounded amongst the boastful chatter and cheer all around you. Not to mention the same ABBA song that’d been playing for what had to be the fifth time now as per James’ request. “I had no idea you were so eager to dance with me.”

He lifts your hand to twirl you, hands clasped and arms extending as he spins himself for the fun of it. He nearly tripped over his own two feet but if it meant he’d see you smile then it made the slight embarrassment all the more worth it to him.

“There happens to be a lot you don’t know about me,” he says, brow raised as he falls as seriously as he could muster which hadn’t been very much. “A lot.”

You paused in your tracks as his hands settled on your waist, a mild look of concern flashing across his face until he saw the expression he knew so well in yours. “That is entirely untrue and you know it. In fact, I know more about you than I ever cared to.”

His eyes roll once more at your teasing as he lifts you off your feet in a lighthearted retaliation, spinning you once and twice and even a third time as the breeze washes over you and your laughter mingles amongst everyone else’s. He finds himself staring again as he sets you back on your feet, busying himself with reciting the lyrics to Waterloo as long as it means you hadn’t noticed his admiration. You seem to be far too taken by the off key singing, though you couldn’t bring yourself to ever be annoyed.

His singing dwindled and his voice lowered after a short while, his arm remained hooked around your waist save for when he’d twirled you a few more times. You tried your hardest not to play into the fact that your heart had been racing for reasons other than the dance you’d been sharing. To not dwell on the fact that his hand was in yours and his absentminded hums of music had filled the space between you. Should another Led Zeppelin song come on, everyone will simply have to be subject to more singing. Or the fading scent of his cologne that wafted your way with every movement and every gust of wind.

A laugh fell past your lips in that moment, catching his attention immediately.

“What?” He asks, amused and curious. He knows the meaning behind that laugh and he knows surely you’ve got something on your mind.

“I thought you hated ABBA,” you jest, raising your brows. He tips his head back at your comment, his hair flopping backward briefly as a groan fell from his lips. “I’m starting to believe otherwise with the way you know just about every word to every one of their songs that’s come on.”

“Must you be so observant?” He huffs.

“How could I not be?”

He scrunches his nose and mocks your words, your laughter immediate as you return the gesture.

Things fell quiet between you after that for a while then, leaving you both to bask in the music that’d since been turned down, the conversations that since lessened the more the night continued on. Leaving Sirius to think for more than a few moments about just how many hours and minutes he’d waited to dance with you. Or how you rested your head on his chest and he hoped you hadn’t heard just how heavily his heart had been beating. If you had, he’d simply just blame it on the way he’d carried on that night. The adrenaline.

He knew in the coming days and weeks and months and years, ever since the day he met you, that you’d take up the forefront of his mind and he’s yet to be proved otherwise. You’ve made yourself be the calm to his chaos, the one he will always seek out even when he doesn’t realize it. He knows as he dances with you to a song he always swore he hated that he wouldn’t trade it for the world. Not even when you tease him for knowing every lyric. Not even when you tell him he smokes too much and he knows it to be true. Not even when you put those bloody flowers in his hair. Not even when you push his buttons and argue with him for being so foolishly reckless at times. You were just as stubborn as him and he knows he’s met his match.

He doesn’t know quite when he’s known himself to be in love with you, it’s all kind of faded and muddled together. But in the current moment as minutes collect and time passes with the laughter of his friends and newfound family, with you, he knows he’s got what he needs.

“Sirius?” You ask softly, curiously after a while, your gaze falling upon him.

“Yes?”

He finds himself tucking your hair behind your ear, the tips of his fingers tracing over your flushed cheek. He was very much aware of the heat rising in your face at the action, very aware without the need to see it in the glow of the moon. Because there’s this thing you do each and every time you’re flustered, he’s noticed, and each time you look away and smile. You smile and purse your lips and it’s become painfully obvious to him that you were always trying to fight the crimson in your cheeks.

“Have you really wanted to dance with me all night?” You finally say, your smile soft as your eyes nearly sparkled in the moonlit glow you stood under.

A soft laugh leaves his lips as he himself looked away, knowing that habit of yours he knew so very well had rubbed off on him. But he turns back to you, eyes gray and full of something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. “Yes, Y/n. It’s always you that I want to dance with.”

You try your hardest to ignore the flutter in your heart at his words, to contain the butterflies in your stomach. The way he’d looked at you, a certain sincerity in his words and a certain something in his gaze making it near impossible to think straight. The way he looked, goofy and the embodiment of utter chaos—it had you unable to look at just anything else. Though you will admit, as of late it’s always seemed to be rather hard to look anywhere else for more than a few moments so long as Sirius had been close by.

So, as you stood there half-dancing to the melody of a song you hadn’t fully been paying attention to, you find yourself focused on him. Without second thought you lift your hand, grasping the tie around his head softly to you with the fabric between your fingers. He looked absolutely ridiculous and that was for certain, ruffles of black hair dusting his shoulders as that very tie tickled over his nose with every gust of wind. His cheeks were a bit rosy from the energy he put forth that evening you presumed, unaware that a good bit of it had been caused by you.

You tuck the charcoal colored fabric behind his ear, a laugh falling from your lips and mischief dancing in your eyes that told him surely you’d had something on your mind.

“Then I believe it is my duty to tell you that you really are the worst dancer.” There it is.

He pulls you closer, his laughter puffing against your skin as your own continues giddily. “And who’s to say I wasn’t just trying to give you a chance?”

You bite the inside of your cheek to stifle another bout of giggles, you refuse to give him that satisfaction. But the closeness between the two of you had proven to be far more effective in shutting you up as his nose nudged against your own. He couldn’t bring himself to refrain from resting his forehead on yours in a matter of moments, his lashes fluttering and mingling with yours. Your heart hammered in your chest yet felt calm all the same, as if this was exactly where you were meant to be. You knew it was.

“Well,” you start, voice soft as he smiles softly, more so when you accidentally step on the toes of his grass stained converse. “Then I’d say that was awfully nice of you.”

The scrunched noses and soft laughter you share only lingers for mere fleeting moments before his lips brush over yours, featherlight and hesitant. But it was then that you lean on your toes and kiss him fully, his hand squeezing yours as his smile presses against your lips as you continue to sway together. Never mind the three friends of yours watching that very moment with the largest of grins and maybe some teary eyes from James. Never mind Lily high-fiving Remus before extending their hands to James to collect their bet money. You were kissing your best friend, the raven haired wizard that never failed to get on your nerves in the best of ways. The one that could bring life into any room he’d walked into.

“Does this mean you love me too?” He asks, eyes crinkling from his grin and laughter immediate, “Because that would really be awfully embarrassing if—”

“Yes, I love you,” you laugh against his lips to shut him up, closing the space between you once more. “I love you.”

In that moment as he kissed you, as the tips of his fingers brushed across your cheek and the light of the moon washed over you, he knew. It has been you that ignites every moment into the light that it is, the one he finds he can’t ever stop thinking of.

It’s not living if it’s not with you.

—

Tags: @anchoeritic @gxtitobxby @vogueweasley @ch0colatefr0gs @amourtentiaa @hahee154hq @snitches-at-dawn @dracosathenaeum @harrysweasleys @awritingtree @writeroutoftime

#sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #sirius black fic #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black oneshot #sirius black fluff #sirius black imagine

[babyjamiebarnes]

Build-A-Bear

Part One

Featuring: Bucky x Stark!reader, dad!Tony, Peter Parker (platonic), background MCU characters

Warnings: [chapter] language; [series] language, smut, violence

Summary: The only people who knew she was actually a Stark were her dad, her step-mom Pepper, and her “uncles” Happy and Rhodey. A promotion within Stark Industries takes her from an already-sought after position in the Weapons Anaylsis Unit straight to the Avengers as a Weapons Enhancement Specialist... which means her dad is her new boss. There’s only one rule at work: no fraternizing with coworkers. There’s one more rule at home: no dating any Avengers. So what is she supposed to do when a grumpy super soldier becomes not-so-grumpy around her? At 25, do her dad’s rules still apply? Or is her entire livelihood at risk?

Author’s Note: I’ve written a decent portion of this but know I won’t keep writing it or post it unless I hold myself accountable and get it out there in the first place 🙈 I haven’t written much for Marvel yet but I’ve read plenty and have written for other fandoms in the past (not to mention the writing degree on my wall lol). I’ll try to post every 2-3 days to keep this moving! And if you like it and want to, buy me a coffee!

No one knew Tony Stark had a daughter. No one but Tony Stark and his daughter. Well, and her step-mom Pepper. And her godfather Rhodey. And her uncle-not-uncle Happy. But no one in their everyday lives knew. She was given her mother’s maiden name and kept a secret, even when she turned 17 and moved to a small apartment near NYU’s campus (with Happy stationed right next door, of course) to start life as a truly normal adult, or as close to normal as an undercover Stark could be. When she graduated with her PhDs in robotics and electrical engineering at 25 — proving brains really do run in the family — she moved into her own apartment in Manhattan, funded by her father under the pseudonym “Michael Myers.” Subtlety was never his strong suit.

Fortunately for you, growing up without the Stark name let you live a relatively normal life. It also allowed you to apply for a position within Stark Industries without being ushered past any red tape because of who your father is. Outside of the financial advantage you had, you worked for your spot in a STEM career. You suffered through every man in your field belittling your work despite knowing less than you. You dealt with the constant interruptions and “well, actually” because of your gender. You powered through late nights and early mornings when your mind was flowing too smoothly to quit.

The last thing you wanted to do was have all that work disregarded because you shared a name with genius billionaire playboy philanthropist Tony Stark. So you filled out the application, sent in your resume and cover letter, and attached three letters of recommendation from your professors. You went through hours of interviews, background checks (conveniently redacting your father’s name), and polygraph tests until that offer letter showed up in your email. You even had to sign the Non-Disclosure Agreements that would bar you from discussing *anything* work-related with anyone outside of your department.

You spent your first year in the weapons analysis department, evaluating alien weaponry and determining how it worked and how to disable it. You had your fair share of mishaps, of course. Holes blasted into walls, fried robot dummies, even burnt animal carcasses. By the end of your first year, your supervisor sent a commendation and proposal for you for an undisclosed promotion. After Pepper Potts “thoroughly examined your resume, cover letter, and accomplishments during your tenure with Stark Industries,” as the letter read, you were awarded a position working on the Avengers’ weapons as a Weapons Enhancement Specialist. You’d never see a fight in-person, but you were assigned to work on advancements and post-battle repairs for everyone, from the Winter Soldier’s arm to the Falcon’s wings to Vision’s... everything. The only heroes you wouldn’t work on were Iron Man and War Machine (those were your dad’s territory) and Spider-Man.

On your first day in your new position, the one and only Pepper Potts showed you to your new lab on the 47th floor. It took all your willpower to look your step-mother in the eye and say, “Wow, Miss Potts. This is amazing. It’s such an honor to meet you,” with a straight face to convince any passerby that you had no outside affiliation with her. Even if her eyes stayed steady on you, you could see her mentally rolling them.

Once you were alone behind the doors of the elevator, conversation changed course.

“You’re going to be sharing a lab with someone else,” Pepper said.

“Sweet. As long as they’re competent, that’s fine by me,” you shrugged. Part of earning your degrees was learning to share a workspace with others, even those who bumbled and fumbled with no idea what they were doing. You’d had more hair singed by nearby explosions than you’d like to admit.

“He’s still in college so he’s not here as often as the others. Most of his work will be on Spider-Man’s gadgets and suit, but you can use him for any help you need.”

Walking past the familiar faces of Dr. Banner and Dr. Cho in their respective labs, Pepper ushered you into your lab, where you were met by your father and put on the same excited facade you did with Pepper.

“Oh my god, you’re Tony Stark! This is incredible! It’s such an honor to meet you, sir!”

He shook his head at you and reluctantly accepted your outstretched hand. Oh, the jokes you’d be making at family dinners.

“Yeah, anyway, this is your new lab, Miss [Y/L/N]. Make yourself at home. This lab rat over here is mister Parker. If you have any questions, he can at least bullshit an answer for you.”

The young man on the other side of the lab perked up at the sound of his name. He tugged the goggles off his face and set down his soldering rod to rush over to you.

“Hi. Hi, I’m Peter,” he said, reaching his hand out to you.

“I’m [Y/N]. It’s nice to meet you, lab partner.”

He looked to be a bit younger than you and at least relatively smart, if the MIT sweatshirt peeking out from under his lab coat said anything. If your dad gave him an internship like this, you knew you shouldn’t question it. He had to be a genius.

The kid just smiled at you, continuing to shake your hand past what most would deem socially acceptable.

“Okay, enough of that,” Tony said, pushing on your joined hands to separate you two. “Mister Parker might be in and out of the lab from time to time. He joins the Avengers on the occasional recon mission for immediate repairs but since he’s on break from classes, you’ll see him more often than not. Play nice.”

When he noticed you surreptitiously looking Peter up and down, he added, “Remember, no fraternizing with coworkers.” He pointed a finger directly at you before he spun and pointed to your fellow lab mate, realizing he should warn Peter too to save face.

“All the blueprints you need for the Tin Man’s arm are in the system. We’ll have you start on that and see what you can do about minimizing the sound that thing makes. Any other questions, give Pep a call.”

“Thank you, mister Stark. I really do appreciate everything,” you said genuinely.

“Yeah, well… don’t let me down,” he replied, patting you on the shoulder on his way out. Pepper followed close behind, leaving you alone with Peter Parker.

“So Peter,” you started, sliding onto the lab chair next to where he remained standing, “tell me about yourself.”

“Uh… what do you want to know?” he asked as he shoved his hands into his coat pockets.

“How old are you?” you asked immediately.

“I’m 21.”

Only four years younger than you. So you’d probably get along just fine.

“I assume you’re at MIT?” He nodded. “What are you studying?”

“Biomolecular and mechanical engineering.” He said it so casually, you’d think he was talking about the last song he heard on the radio.

“Damn,” you responded, eyes wide. “I thought robotics and electrical engineering was wild but fuck, that sounds like hell.”

He laughed and nodded, letting a bit of the tension in his shoulders fall. “Yeah, it’s not easy. But it’s worth it.”

He shot you a small smile before gesturing back at his project. “I should probably get back to work and let you get started.”

For the rest of the day, you familiarized yourself with the Winter Soldier’s arm to figure out how to… turn the volume down? You assumed it was the gears inside causing the noise, but part of you wanted to outfit an audio jack and speaker just to fuck with your dad.

You and Peter worked in relative silence, aside from the playlist he had quietly playing through the lab sound system. When lunch rolled around, however, you finally spoke up.

“Hey Peter,” you called, his eyes flicking from the chemical beakers in front of him up to you. “First of all, what are you doing?”

“Um, it’s Spider-Man’s web fluid. Just trying to find more durable combinations.”

“Interesting.” As much as you wanted to touch the stringy substance, you knew better than to fiddle with someone else’s lab work. “Okay so second thing, in my last position, I’d just order food and have it brought to my floor but now that I’m on an exclusive floor, what do you do for lunch?”

“Oh, there are a couple security guys who have clearance to come into this floor. They just can’t get into any rooms so you’d have to meet them at the elevator. But I usually find something in the kitchen down the hall.”

“Oh, sweet. Thanks!” you said as you made your way out the door. Before you could fully exit, you turned back to see if Peter wanted you to grab anything. Once he promised he’d take his own break ‘once I get this one thing figured out,’ you continued to make your way to the kitchen.

As you drew closer to the doorway, you could hear three voices speaking over each other. They didn’t sound angry, but they were definitely arguing. You opened the door anyway and almost immediately froze in your tracks. The Falcon stood with one hand on his own head and one on the Winter Soldier’s head while Captain America rolled his eyes before those same eyes landed on you, along with the rest of the room.

“Perfect,” Sam started. “Hey new girl, between the three of us,” he said, pointing to himself, the Soldier, and the Captain, “who has the best hair?”

“First of all, my name is [Y/N]. Second,” you continued, making your way past them to the fridge you hoped your dad kept stocked with goodies, “that’s an unfair question.”

You grabbed a soda and popped it open before turning back to the three men. “Your hair suits each of you. Cap wouldn’t look good with Winter Soldier hair and Falcon wouldn’t look good with Cap’s hair.” You took a few steps closer, leaning against the island counter between you and eyeing each of them. Your eyes settled on the Winter Soldier, unashamedly flitting across his face and admiring the sharpness of his features. “You,” pointing at him, “could probably pull off either of their looks, though.”

Bucky smirked at you, but his rosy cheeks gave away a hint of embarrassment at your compliment. Steve and Sam, on the other hand, weren’t taking it quite as gracefully.

“What?!” Sam shouted. “Okay, now I know you’re lying. I could pull off Cap’s hair for sure.”

“You know, I think shaggy hair would really suit me,” Cap said, only half sarcastically.

You giggled to yourself as the three of them started talking over each other again, all dead set on their own hair being the best of them and positive they could pull off the others’ looks. While they bickered, you searched the pantry until you found a snack to at least get you through the remainder of the day.

“Alright boys, it’s been fun but I have work to do,” you said as you walked past them again. “Actually, wait. Bucky — can I call you Bucky?” He nodded even though you continued anyway. “If you could stop by lab six today, I’d love to check out your arm in person. The digital renderings aren’t quite the same.”

“Uh, okay. Sure. I’ll find you,” he said quietly.

“Sweet, thanks!” And with that, you skedaddled back to your lab.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x Stark!reader #Stark!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes series #bucky x Stark!reader