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oitommothetease · 3 years

Text

Invisible String (8/?)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female reader (Modern AU)

Description: James Buchanan Barnes, the owner of the most expensive-looking club in town and your new apartment. He was a dick and you hated him. What could possibly go wrong when you, the new girl in town, start bartending at his club to pursue your dreams?

Word Count: 2.4k words

Your parents’ house was exactly how you remembered it, but again, it had been only two months since you last saw it. Contrary to your usual life, a lot has changed in two months. You aren't working in a cubicle anymore, you're not going on random blind dates that your sister and mother plot for you. What you are doing is bartending in a town far away from your family. You're fake dating your boss who happens to be the most dangerous person in the town, at least that's what you've heard of the rumors, but so far, James has been nothing but non-threatening to you. Yes, he was mean in the beginning, but a lot has changed since then.

And now sitting in front of your parents with James beside you, eating lunch; you recall Barry's diner and you miss the food there. It's funny because you always thought that this was your home, your family and everything associated with them should make you feel at peace, but you were feeling everything but that. You were restless and anxious, and you wanted to go to that cozy dinner with James where Sally would tell you anecdotes about her life. You wanted to sit with James and watch him debunk the myths about his career that you believed were true your whole life. Turns out, he doesn't cut off people’s dick for disrespecting him. Who would have thought? And you decided that maybe you should stop reading those stupid mafia stories.

James sensed your discomfort, you don't know how he does that, but he always knows when something is bothering you. He brought his chair closer to you in hopes of providing you some relief. And it did, his presence made you feel at ease and you weren't sure how you felt about it. You knew you were dependent on him for comfort since the incident at his club, but being with him didn't make you feel caged.

You always thought that a relationship would make you feel stuck. That's why you never engaged in one, but with James, it felt liberating. Maybe because this wasn't real and the moment this turns real, it'll be a shithole. At least that's what you told yourself.

“So, what do you do, James?” your father asked, and you nearly choked on your food. James's hand involuntarily reached towards your back, his thumb running soothing circles while his palms patted gently.

“I own a club and a few other buildings in town,” your faux boyfriend answered, and you were thankful he didn't get into his other business. You wanted to ask about all the rumors in town and why people are so scared of him and why does everyone in the club carries a gun, but you were scared to ask. You feared that you wouldn't like the answers. Honestly, that's false, you weren't scared of the answers, you were scared that what if he closes himself again the moment you step into uncharted territory. And you really liked this fun, caring, swiftie James.

Everybody was sitting silently at the table which was unusual because usually family dinners were the place where everyone pointed out your faults. Carol kept glancing at your parents every few seconds and vice versa. Your brother-in-law, Nick, was focused on the food and their kids were taking a nap.

You were going to thank your stars for this peaceful lunch when your sister broke off the silence. “So, how did you two meet?”

Every head on the table turned towards you expectantly, waiting for you to explain how you met James. What were you supposed to say? That you met when you interviewed for your current job and he clearly rejected you?

Before the panic could make its way to the surface, James' palm landed on yours softly, grounding you. Your sister's eyes fell to your hands on the table and she scoffed.

“We're glad you're happy, but at least don't forget basic table etiquette,” She commented. How could you forget the ‘no hands on the table while eating’ rule? Just when you were about to remove your hand from the table, James held your hand and placed it on his lap, lacing his fingers with yours.

“Auntie Y/N!” A shriek made you turn behind, and you saw your nephew and niece running towards you with the biggest grin on their faces. Both the kids jumped in your embrace without a care of their surroundings and you stifled a laugh.

Bucky didn't like kids, hated them, to be honest. In his defense, what's there to like, they're always whining and crying, but seeing you attempting to straddle two 5-year-olds on your lap while their mother complained might change his opinions on the subject.

You didn't like kids either, except your nephew and niece. They were perfect in your eyes, but maybe you were a bit partial because you sort of shared genes with them. You were so focused on the stories Alec and Izzy were telling you that you didn't notice the eyes that were fixed on you. James looked at you with not only adoration, but also devotion. He knew if he kept looking at you like that, he'd be deep in shit, but it was too late now.

After dinner, you made your way to the bedroom, only to realize that there was one bed. Fuck. You really should have thought this through.

Before the embarrassment could seep in, James started collecting a blanket and some pillows. “I'll take the floor,” He said.

You frowned. “No, James. You've already done so much for me. Take the bed, please.”

James pretended not to hear you and started preparing his bed on the floor.

“Seriously?” You queried, slightly huffing at his childish behavior. “You're gonna pretend you didn't hear me. How old are you, five?”

Without saying a word, James started humming a tune and situated himself on the makeshift bed on the floor and closed his eyes.

You stomped your foot furiously, yeah, maybe you were a little childish too. Without muttering another word, you made your way towards the bed and tucked yourself in a comfortable position.

“You were saying something?” James asked, his voice laced with tease, and you huffed at his tomfoolery.

“Yeah, just how immature you are.”

“Sorry, I didn't hear that. What was that?” you couldn't see him, but you knew he was doing some theatrical actions by putting his hands on his ears for better listening or furrowing his eyes in feigned confusion. “That I'm so smart? Oh, why, thank you. You're not so bad yourself.”

“That's real mature, James,” you murmured, clearly not enjoying his antics.

A comfortable silence fell in the room. The only thing that could be heard was your breathing and the air conditioner that always sucked in your childhood room but your parents never thought it was a primary concern. Oh, yeah, also, you were staying in your teenage room with your boss. You tried telling your parents that you could get a hotel, but they insisted so now James could see one direction posters on the wall right in front of him.

You would have assumed that he fell asleep if he hadn't broken the silence. “I know it's not my business and you don't have to answer if you don't want to,” he paused, wondering whether he is crossing a line by asking you this. “But why do you let them treat you like that?”

You coughed in surprise, you clearly did not expect him to ask this. You thought maybe he was going to ask you who is your favorite one direction member. Anything really, expect this. “Wow, you do not beat around the bush.”

You could hear him shuffling and once he settled you were sure he was facing you. Well, the bed actually. You did the same, turning towards him. You couldn't see him, but it still felt so intimate.

“I'm honest with people I trust,” he informed and you smiled, thinking about the time when he told you he did not trust you or your intentions.

“What do I get in return?” you teased, although you would have told him without getting anything in return.

“What do you want?”

You debated for a minute whether you should go forward and just ask him so you did. “What do you do?”

You didn't expect him to actually answer. You knew that your relationship (whatever that was) with James had increased from where it was a few months ago. You deeply cared for each other and had mutual trust in the other. But you still didn't know about the actual work he did. Your realtor told you that he was a criminal, a mobster to be exact, and had sketchy connections with the mafia but you didn't know the exact nature of his work.

He signed heavily and you were ready to drop the subject, scared that it would only push him away again and you couldn't lose whatever you had this early.

“We provide weapons to the government at a cheaper price, eliminate problems or shootouts that the government is too scared to take the blame for,” he said, voice unwavering but you could sense the tension. Bucky thought that telling you about his work would make you fear him, and he didn't want to risk losing the progress he made with you, but he also knew that if he wanted you in his life in any form then he has to be honest with you. “We don't do the kind of stuff you're thinking of, it's mostly assisting the government to do stuff where they don't want to get their hands dirty.”

“Why?”

“How would you feel if the leaders of your country were involved in shady business?” It was a rhetorical answer, of course, you would feel unsafe, but your sleep-dazed brain was about to muster up an answer but he quickly spoke. “So if it backfires then they don't lose their men and women and can blame it on us, the criminals.”

“So that's why you weren't scared if I went to the cops? Because you kinda work for them?” you asked. His reaction made a lot of sense now, but some part of your brain hoped that he did that for you. That he would defy the police for you.

“Off charts yeah,” he answered, “Although that has nothing to do with why I wanted you to go to the cops. I wanted you to because what Rumlow did was unacceptable and he should pay for his actions.”

“Wow,” you didn't know what to say. Anything further could push him back to the 'I don't trust you' James and you couldn't risk that.

Bucky didn't want to elaborate further, “Your turn.”

“Sir, you just set yourself up for the biggest disappointment,” you joked, already imagining his reaction and smiling to yourself.

“I let them treat me like this because they are my family,” you replied honestly. “I don't have anyone else but them.”

Bucky knew all about the issues that come with family, but he didn't think you'd be the victim of it. Bucky realized that in his head, he had conjured up a version of you that was perfect, so if he were to know you better, it would decrease his crush on you, right?

Wrong. The more Bucky got to know you, the more he realized you weren't some angel and were just a vulnerable human like everyone, and the more he wanted you, all of you.

“Where does Rumlow come in this?” you questioned.

“His work is dirty like drugs, sex trafficking so he doesn't work well with government or any sort of authority,” he explained, “He's one of the problems they wanna eliminate but can't because he's too powerful. He works with Hydra.”

“Wasn't Hydra a myth?” you queried. You have heard stories about Hydra too, how Bucky was their rival. You assumed it was about territory or money. You know, like in the movies.

“Nah, doll, it's real. He's part of that organization and that makes him shielded from us and literally everyone.”

“So you're technically not… you know, killing people for fun like the mafia and all? You're like undercover agents,” you concluded and he shook his head, chuckling at the disappointment in your voice.

In your defense, you expected him to be the movie-type mafia boss who kills people for raising their voice but again, this is not a movie.

“If it makes you feel better, we smuggle weapons for the government. We're still criminals and dangerous,” he articulated, his tone laced with amusement at your reaction.

“No offense, but that's a horrible career. Is that what you wanted to do growing up?” you asked, yawning, your eyelids becoming heavy from the exhaustion.

“No,” he answered truthfully. “Not everyone gets a choice, doll. My dad was murdered when I was a kid and I was shoved into the business to protect my family.”

“Where are they? Your family, I mean,” you inquired, hoping you weren't overstepping.

“Ma basically hates me and my sister maintains her distance, but it's for her own safety.”

You didn't ask about them further, realizing his family was a touchy subject for him. You could relate to that. “What do you want to do?”

Out of all your questions and weird assumptions, this took James by surprise. No one asked him what he wanted to do. Hell, he didn't even ask him that, and now someone finally asked him, he didn't know what to answer. You understood his silence, you always understood everything James felt even without it being voiced. He generally hated when people predicted him, he prided himself on being unpredictable but not with you. James wanted nothing more than to just be Bucky with you.

“Don’t worry, you'll figure something out,” you mumbled, already drifting off to sleep.

James turned towards the opposite side. “Sleep well, doll.” he murmured, his breath growing even, matching yours.

TAGS: @bananapipedreams @akkinda10 @rivers-rambles21 @emmabarnes @goodcleanfunsis @valsworldofcreativity @boofy1998 @marvel-3407

#bucky fanfic #Bucky Barnes #bucky fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky x you #mob!bucky x reader #bucky x y/n

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infernal-fire · 3 years

Text

five types of love.

what to expect: smut, swearing, friends w/ benefits arrangement, mention of Imposter syndrome, fluff, angst, heartbreak, overstimulation, implied creampie, rough sex

a/n: a little warning; you will be choosing your ending - there is a happy one and a sad one. a huge shoutout to @mollygetssherlockcoffee and @angrybirdcr for talking to me about the fic and offering such amazing advice! and @tuiccim was so damn lovely, even offered to beta this (though all mistakes are my own).

summary: you once heard that there were eight types of love. you only knew of five; the five that caused you to fall for one, blue-eyed menace.

Ludus: uncommitted, casual love that can attribute to a flirtatious and fun conquest. Not to be mistaken for Eros.

“I think we’re forgetting the reason why the mission failed in the first place. If the older fellow took a suggestion once in a-”

“-Tony, you know damn well that there were civilians in there.”

Steve and Tony glared at each other from across the briefing room. The tension in the room was exorbitant, but then again, it had been that way since Bucky joined the team.

“This is exactly why we need the new girl. You super-soldiers and billionaires are getting tangled up in each others’ asses and forgetting about what it’s like for the normal people,” Rhodey sighed.

“The last thing we need is another trainee fucking up orders,” Tony snorted and began messing with his tech. The projector flipped through random screens, FRIDAY most likely filtering out the irrelevant news.

“If you have a problem, maybe you should say it to his face,” Steve seethed, now standing up to match Tony’s stance. Usually, this type of jab at Bucky wouldn’t rile him up, but the super-soldier was at his wit’s end following the events of the latest mission.

Beside him, Bucky lightly tugged on his friend’s hand, signalling him to disengage.

“You’re with them?” Tony incredulously questioned Rhodey.

“I’m with the idea of calming this room down.”

“Besides, she’s already been prepped for her first mission,” Natasha piped up. “We’re supposed to have a sit-down in 5 minutes... that is, if you boys can get your shit together.”

The room broke out into a chorus of muttering and everyone settled in their seats again. Captain strode to the front of the room and pulled up his game plan, fiddling with the map FRIDAY was projecting.

You, on the other hand, could not decide how to act in front of the Avengers: Laidback? They wouldn’t take you seriously. Know-it-all? No, that was Stark’s play. Timid Tiffany? If you wanted to seem secretly conceited? Sure. That would work for now.

When Vision floated out to bring you in, you didn’t even flinch at the unforeseen phasing. Impressed at your lack of a reaction, Vision faltered before ever-so-courteously introducing himself.

Could this sentient being laugh of his own volition? You gave him your name and dramatically curtsied to test your theory; he could laugh, and you were pleasantly surprised to find that it was not at all robotic.

You felt the room intently eye you as you ambled to your seat beside one, blue-eyed menace. You half-expected the team to introduce themselves, but who were you kidding - anyone could hear the argument from three corridors away. There was no point in pretending like they wanted you here, but that wouldn’t deter you.

You glanced at your neighbour, met with the pleasant face of the one and only. James Buchanan Barnes was known to be a handsome devil, but the reputation of the Winter Soldier often precedes him; that, unfortunately, does not stop you from eyeing him.

When he caught your stare, you scolded yourself. You’re such a creep.

When he smirked at your ogling, you praised yourself. Oh, hello there.

This is gonna be fun.

Eros: sexual, passionate love that is fueled by lust.

It didn’t happen after the first mission; he had the decency to wait until the fourth mission to knock on your door.

You had been putting away the last of your belongings, finally adjusting to the grandiose living conditions the Avengers Tower provided.

As soon as you unlocked your knob, the door flung open; Bucky's stare was partially inhibited by his hooded eyes. He hadn’t always looked at you like that.

Like what?

With unadulterated craving.

That day, he strode in like he owned the place. You didn’t expect the shove that caused you to land on your bed with an oomph. Bucky wasted no time, climbing onto your form, straddling you. By the time you understood what was happening, a single finger was pressed into your lips.

“Either tell me you don’t want this right fucking now,” he leaned in, close to your face, “or shut the fuck up and let me use you.”

You whimpered in response.

“Not good enough.”

“Use me.”

That’s all the affirmation he needed.

You pushed off the bed to try and meet his lips but he firmly pinned you down by your shoulders. Bucky reached into your panties and circled your clit without hesitation. It only took some swivelling, his intense gaze and the unexpected plunge of his fingers in your channel to make you see stars. Bucky had made you come before kissing you.

When he finally slotted his lips against yours, it was nothing short of all-consuming; you hadn’t even realized the absence of clothes on your body. Had it been ten minutes? Or thirty? It was hard to tell when you were being ravaged by another.

He made you come twice more: once with his fingers’ repeated dipping and pressing into the soft, spongy part of your cunt. The second time was with the talented sucking and flicking of his tongue. Technically, it was the third time.

None of your past partners had been this steadfast in their duty to pleasure you. You were already putty in his hands, ready to be moulded according to his needs. Part of you was ready to tap out, unable to fathom the likelihood of coming over his cock again, but the better half of you needed it.

In your orgasmic haze, you failed to notice that his clothes were being discarded - if you did, it would have given you the opportunity to gawk at the body that you so desperately wanted to see shirtless. When you finally registered his naked person, your hand involuntarily traced the connection between the metal arm and flesh. He threw his head back and groaned before kissing you again.

He pulled off, just enough to get a good look.

“Look at you, all fucked out. I didn’t even put my cock in.”

He pumped his shaft with fervour before pushing the blunt head against your slit. You winced at his attempt to put it in.

“Made you cum three times and you’re still too fucking tight,” he muttered and ran his length up and down your folds. Once he had accumulated enough slick he tried again, this time, successful.

You moaned as he slowly sunk in and buried his cock to its absolute limit. If the walls of your pussy had a voice, it would be absolutely hoarse. You also realized that he only bestowed the three orgasms in hopes of reprieving the pain of the stretch. Without the preparation, he might have torn you in half.

When he began moving, the only thing that was slow or soft about him was his lips against your skin. The thrusts were punishing; if it wasn’t obvious that he was angry before, this made it clear as day.

You screamed and moaned, alternating between keening and arching your back; the pleas did nothing to falter his furious pace. The smacking of your skin was only heightened by the slick that your cunt produced in attempts to accommodate his length. Every time he pulled out, his balls were connected to your sex with a string of come.

If someone told you that you could come five times within forty minutes, you would have face painted and dressed them up like a clown.

Now you laid in bed, being used like a rag doll, begging Bucky to stop you from coming a sixth time that session. It was usually the dirty talk that got you off, but he hadn’t said anything aside from the occasional ‘shut up’ or ‘shhh’. His movements alone had you convulsing around his length.

His thrusts didn’t get sloppy. Rather, they increased in force, as his cock sought space beyond your cervix. You tried to scream, but all that came out was more broken tears and cries. At last, he let out a pornographic moan as his load flooded your insides. Sure, you had let past boyfriends come in you, but you never actually felt the liquid shoot up inside you, until today.

Following the pop sound that his cock made as it pulled out, you whined again. You could feel your heartbeat throb down there.

He flipped you onto your stomach and smacked your ass, laughing at the way you sobbed in pain before disappearing from your room altogether.

He was gone as fast as he showed up.

And he ruined everyone else for you.

In all fairness... you asked for it.

Philia: the deep, virtuous love that is formed in a good friendship. Lovers share a strong bond when Eros and Philia feed into each other.

What started as a release from the frustrations that accrue on the battlefield turned into a deep connection that neither of you had anticipated. Sex had only been used as a tool in the act of psychological detachment until that day.

It was a failed date of some sort: either you had been stood up or the guy was a total moron. You could wrack your brain for the memory, but in any matter, it was all irrelevant now.

You were upset, not just at your lack of a love life, but at the imposter syndrome that had weaselled its way into your liveliness. Feeling like you weren’t enough was catching up to your daily life and even Bucky had noticed the hesitation during your post-mission escapades.

Before you knew it, your hand was knocking on Bucky’s door at the ripe hour of 1 AM.

You heard the muffled thumps of his footsteps and considered booking it out of there, but before you made up your mind, the door opened. As you had predicted, Bucky was wide-awake.

“What?”

You had wanted to sass him for his tone but decided against it since you were the one who interrupted his 1 AM activities. You shook your head from the clouds and mumbled incoherently, starting to walk away. The coldness of his metal arm abruptly gripped your wrist.

“Are you okay?”

You hated that question. You could be doing so good, holding in the burden of a horrible week, but the moment someone asks you that question, the dam would disintegrate into dust, only to be washed away by the inevitable waterworks.

The sob you let out didn’t loosen his hold. He let you cry and watched as you tried to wipe away the unrelenting tears, still refusing to close the gap between your bodies. Finally, you shuffled into his arms where he bear-hugged you, cupping the back of your neck and holding it to the junction of his neck.

"You smell nice,” you sniffled.

He lightly chuckled before dragging you into his room and seating you on the bed. He ordered you to stay there and rummaged around his cupboard before pulling out a bottle with red liquid sloshing around.

“You keep that in your room?” you snickered, wiping your nose with the back of your hand, before blanching at your state. Hell, he had seen you naked, how you look right now is the least of your concerns.

“In case of emergencies,” he winked. “This seems like a real emergency.”

A fresh wave of tears pooled in your waterline as you peered at your hands that were picking at each other.

“I don’t have wine glasses, so we can just chug.”

Bucky stuck out the bottle and you grasped it firmly before gulping one-fourth of it. That’s all the coaxing it took to get you to spill.

You don’t even remember what you talked about, but before either of you realized, 3 AM blinked on the digital clock that hung above the bed frame. You were almost asleep, now resting on Bucky’s lap while he occasionally hummed or offered his two cents. Right before you drifted off, the super-soldier lifted you, placing you under a cover. He climbed in from the other side, one hand cupping your face, the other snaking around your waist.

“Thanks, Buck.”

“It’s gonna be okay. You’re okay,” he whispered.

Your eyes drooped but swiftly opened as Bucky leaned in, resting his forehead against yours. His lips barely touched yours, grazing their presence, but you moved, tenderly catching them. He returned the movement, the delicacy of his actions reflected in the softness of his eyes.

You pulled away and the two of you wordlessly bore into each other’s eyes. At last, you succumbed to the fatigue, as did he; both of you resting in the others’ possession.

Mania: an unhealthy, obsessive love that plagues the mind.

It was the third time Bucky didn’t show up at your door after a mission. Three missions, each of them ending in something that would have indubitably pissed him off - after all, they were HYDRA bases. That’s when you first suspected it.

The second was when you noted his intentional avoidance of your presence. Whether it be the kitchen, the gym or the hallways, the stealthy ex-assassin didn’t have trouble actively dodging you. Initially, you chalked it up to wanting space or simply taking a break.

Then you heard it.

Why was it that your gut told you to go right then? All this time you had been biding, yet it was at this precise moment that your hunch asked you to speak to him. It could’ve been the duration of the month that it took you to prepare yourself, but it had to be now. You raised your hand, prepping to knock on the door, but stopped.

Your hand froze mid-air. The elegant laugh of another girl sounded behind the door. It was faint, the noise slightly suppressed by the wall between you.

It could be anyone.

But it wasn’t. Your intuition, the one that told you to come here right now, was wise enough to know that this wasn’t just anyone. It was her.

You cupped your mouth to stop the sob that threatened to liberate itself from the confines of your constricted airway. You fell forward, onto your knees, as if to pray to the gods to not let it happen. But it already did. You let go of your mouth, gasping for air from holding your breath all this time.

Shoulders sagged and spine bent, you stalked back to your room like a zombie. Face devoid of all emotion, you fell onto the corner of your bed and crumpled into a ball. For twelve hours, you laid there. Sometimes sleeping, other times letting the tears leak out of the corners of your eyes. Memories of his fingers weaving through your own, the pleasures that chilled you to the bone. Most of all, the way you held his head to your chest as he whimpered about the nightmares that invaded his nights. It felt like those things happened to someone else. Nothing more than a distant memory.

Your heart clenched, tugging on the heartstring that you once thought was connected to him.

It was as if he knew you stood outside his door that day. There was an unspoken agreement to never speak of it. Yes, yes, don’t ever speak of it. The dam that you built so carefully will come crashing down. He stopped avoiding you, but you wished he didn’t; it was crueller to be reminded, easier to pretend he didn’t exist.

Be honest with yourself.

You didn’t pretend like he didn’t exist.

In fact, the first thought after waking up? Bucky. Last thought before going to sleep? My Buck. Every time he wasn’t around? James Buchanan Barnes.

Please, don’t act like every waking moment isn’t spent loving him. Because deep down, you know what’s true.

He never did introduce the mystery girl to anyone at the Tower, but you knew his disappearance after missions could be credited to her. Did he take out his anger on her as he did to you? Or were you nothing more than a toy?

Guilt was one of the few emotions you could make out from the rare occasions you caught his stare. Longing was there too, but you couldn’t be sure that you weren’t projecting. Months went by, waiting for thoughts of him to abandon your disturbed mind. The time never came.

As promised, he ruined anyone else for you.

Pragma: the type of love that endures all shortcomings. Committed relationships that stay in love have an element of significant Pragma to them.

a happy ending.

That relationship may have ended but it didn’t mean he would come back to you.

He did come back. But he wasn’t yours. Bucky made that clear when two more relationships ensued the last. Each time, the buffer period between them was filled by you.

His back-up plan. That’s what you had been reduced to.

After the third time he brought a new girl, you’d think you would be used to it, maybe even uncaring. Unfortunately, the opposite would always prevail.

Steve caught your fist and tutted, commenting on the bad form. You stopped, shook your shoulders and began hopping on the balls of your feet again. Jab, jab. Swing. At first, you’d imagine the faces of those girls. Nowadays, it was easier to envision the pads Steve held as his best friend’s face.

“Bucky’s girl broke up with him.”

“Oh,” you made out, focus slightly wavering.

“You know what happened?”

“Are you asking me ‘cause you wanna know or because you already know?”

“I already know,” he sighed, lowering the hand pads.

He exhaled your name, shaking his and rubbing the bridge of his nose. “When are you two gonna stop playing around?”

“I really don’t understand, Steve.”

“You know why she broke up with him?” You blinked, tongue poking the inside of your cheek in anticipation of an answer.

“He moaned your name during sex.”

“God, that’s so corny,” you huffed, now beginning to make your way out of the boxing ring.

“So what, you’re gonna do nothing? Keep letting him use you?” Steve jogged to catch up to you.

“No,” you faced him, “I’m not letting him use me as a fallback anymore. I’m putting an end to it.”

Steve pursed his lips and shot you and exasperated look before shaking his head. “Don’t let something good go to waste.”

It used to be something good.

You wondered if you could hold up the promise you had just declared to Steve; in the past, you failed every time he showed up at your door. Bucky knew exactly how to play into your emotions, how to say the right things every time. And just like that, the next morning you’d end up in his arms. That stops today.

Determined, you practically punched the button to go up on the elevator and impatiently tapped your foot. As the doors slid closed, you took one look at yourself and turned away, fighting the urge to fix your appearance for him. The doors opened again and you check the floor number, ready to step out, but stopped at the sound of your name. His ex. You almost ran off, unwilling to put up with an angry ex, but she called on you again. You sheepishly stood there, as if you were the one who did something wrong, until she stepped in and pressed the button to go to the lobby.

The silence stretched on, much like your patience. Does she even know who you are?

“We were both fooling ourselves.”

You turn to check if she was speaking to you. Her stare was unwavering and she maintained eye contact that almost made you squirm.

“We both love different people.” She smiled, an obvious melancholy tainting her face. You stood there, absolutely clueless as to how you should respond.

“It’s too late for me, but it’s not for the two of you. Just... don’t let him go. He’s one of the good ones.”

You turned again, now looking down at the ground. Even if she expected you to say something back, it was impossible, at this point. Your mind was in shambles, everything she said contradicting the choice you made five minutes ago.

After what seemed like an eternity, the doors opened and she stepped out. She turned one last time and nodded as if you knew what to do now.

Bucky’s door was unlocked. You called out his name, barely above a whisper and sauntered with hesitation lining your every step. Nothing. Empty. He wasn’t there.

It was a sign. You almost ignored the advice his ex gave, ready to walk into his room and end things. Your shoulder slumped as if your bore the weight of the world on them as you slunk back to your room. Now it would take another outburst or another month to prepare yourself to talk to him again.

As the days went by, you barely saw him around. It reminded you of the times he intentionally ignored you, except this time, you weren’t sure it was intentional. When you did see him, it was clear that he wasn’t doing good; his beard was unkept and scraggly, the bags under his eyes heavier than any trauma he carried. You pretended as though you didn’t notice and went about your routine.

1 AM

A knock sounded at your door. You knew who it was, how could you not, but hoped it wasn’t him anyway. The encounter would most likely end with tears or sex and you didn’t favour either outcome.

You waited a minute. Maybe he would leave if he assumed you were asleep. The knock sounded again.

You cracked the door open. Whatever you were expecting, surely, it wasn’t this. Eyes red and puffy, it was clear he had been crying and most definitely not sleeping.

He held up a wine bottle, and chuckled pathetically at himself.

“Maybe this is bad idea,” he sniffled and wiped his nose with the sleeve of his left arm.

It didn’t feel right to say anything. Rather, you opened the door wider and beckoned for him to step in.

“Emergency?” you asked with a little smile. God, you were so close to crying and he hasn’t even said anything.

“Oh yeah. Big emergency.”

He sat on your bed and felt the sheets, trying to remember the feeling of it on his knees. The days he would buck into you while you clutched them like a vice. The soldier pursed his lips and watched as you settled beside him.

“You don’t have to talk... if you don’t want to,” you said. Your voice cracked and you almost smacked yourself for being so weak around him.

“But I do. I should talk. I have so much to say... Can I explain?” He turned to face you, reaching out for your hands, holding them in his own. You didn’t say anything, opting to return his request with a pleading look in your eyes. He knew what the look meant: just don’t break my heart. Again. He took a deep breath in acknowledgement, trying to form the words that would help you understand.

“I can’t believe I hurt you. I swear, I didn’t know I was doing it, at first.” You mustered your best unbelieving look, almost scoffing for good measure. “No, really,” he hastily added.

A few tears streamed down your face and you frantically tried to wipe them. Bucky took one look at you before he began breaking down, tears slipping down his face.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to cry... I just- I don’t understand? I thought things were good?” you questioned. You had given up on trying to wipe your tears, as did he.

“I wasn’t supposed to fall for you. And by the time I realized, we were so far in. Then I found a distraction... and I really thought I was over you,” he paused, wondering if he should continue or not. You showed no sign of speaking up, so he went on.

“I didn’t think you cared. I didn’t think you felt the same way. I was so convinced that you wouldn’t blink twice but then... but, I-... I heard you at the door that day. I wanted to kick her out and hold you, but I-...”

“But you what? You what, Bucky?”

“I thought it was too late for us. I thought I ruined everything.”

“Then why are you here now?”

“Don’t be mad,” he murmured, retracting his hands and fiddling with his fingers.

“I don’t think anyone can ever replace what we had. Maybe... still have? Because you’re it for me. I’m sorry it took me this long to realize that. I was on the brink of losing myself.” He looked up at you, eyes brimming with a new wave of tears. He mumbled your name weakly, croaking out a please at the end.

You curled in on yourself and fell into his arms, hoping that was enough of a answer.

“I can’t promise you that everything will be back to normal by tomorrow morning... but with some time, I can learn to trust you again.”

Above you, Bucky hurriedly nodded. At the state he’s in right now, you suspected that you could ask him to sell his soul and he would agree.

“And if you ever break my heart again-,”

“-I would die before that happens,” he finished for you, kissing the top of your head for good measure.

“I love you,” you whimpered, “so fucking much.”

“I love you too. I really love you too,” he affirmed and encased you with his arms again.

Though there had been some rough patches on the road to happiness, with Bucky by your side, you felt as though you could make it through anything; for that, is the power of pragmatic love.

an unfortunate ending.

The tears that would’ve been shed during the ceremony have dried on your pillowcase about five hours ago. Now, you sat beside the team, waiting for her to walk down the aisle.

Bucky looked nervous, as if he were reconsidering his life decisions. The little devil on your shoulder was holding onto every little thing he did: the wrinkle of his forehead, his repeated tugging on the suit and his flustered glancing around. Oh lord, and when he accidentally locked eyes with you? You may have bitten your lip and looked away in contempt but the shoulder-devil was as persistent as ever.

He secretly still wants you.

Shut up.

He wants to call it off.

Get a life.

At last, the lucky girl stood at the end of the winding path and you couldn’t help but sneak a look at the groom. His tension and nervousness crumbled at the sight of her; it was difficult not to feel happy that he had found the one that made him feel this way.

It may have been him for you, but that notion was long forgotten, a nuisance of memory at most. Your love for him, regardless of the storms it has endured, is no longer respected or wanted by either party.

If he loves her, why does he come to you when things get bad?

You shook your head at that, having no answer for the nature of his secret infidelity. It was nothing more than taking out his frustrations on you - much like the old days.

Your reminiscing was cut short when a voice asked everyone to rise for the bride. You stood and straightened out your outfit, flicking off the little white petal that clung to your maroon dress. A hand grasped your own, and you turned to see Steve smile reassuringly. You squeeze his hand in appreciation and turned your attention to the white-clad figure walking down the aisle.

And that’s all you remember. You wish you could recall the rest of the wedding. You really do. Too preoccupied with what was going to happen after the event, you disassociated from the ordeal altogether. No matter how hard you grilled yourself, nothing would come to mind - dissociative amnesia only occurs as a protective coping mechanism during traumatic events; was that what Bucky’s wedding was to you?

What type of question is that?

For once, you agreed with the little red beast that sat on your shoulder. Long ago, the first time you saw someone else Bucky’s arms, the devil pierced the pitchfork right through the angel’s heart. These days, it was all you could think of.

After the bride and groom exchanged ‘I do’s’, you willed yourself to stay a while longer. Your only companion, Steve, slow danced with you in silence, knowing that whatever he says would be of no consolation. Bucky did have half a mind to ask you for a dance, but he saw you leave. You didn’t think anyone did. He waited for you to turn and look at him one last time, but you never did. It’s okay, he thought. I didn’t deserve her anyway.

No one saw you after that.

On your bed, Steve found a single note that didn’t explain anything more than what he already knew. If anything, it simply affirmed that you were gone for good. Your things packed up, no trace of a person ever having lived there. Even if he pulled some strings, it would take years to find you again.

After all, you had already been lost for quite some time.

hey folks. i know this seems a little desperate-sounding but i would really appreciate reblogs and would absolutely love to hear your thoughts on the story. what was you favourite part? which part made you feel some way? i really love knowing these things. love each and every single one of you.

Masterlist

Shoot me a message or fill out the form in my bio to be added to my tag list!

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan fic #sebastian stan character #bucky barnes #bucky fic #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you

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anonymousfiction211 · 3 years

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(reader is from asgard) After Loki faked his death, he transforms into the smallest creature and watches over the avengers tower only to see his childhood only friend and crush fall in depression. The others try to help but her anger is so much for her that she almost destroys everything with the powers she didn't knew she had. She admits to them how much she loved him and only then he realizes. I can't think of an ending. Also, sorry if this is too specific!

Word count: 2.026 words A/N: This story is set between Loki’s fake death in Thor 2 and the end of the movie. Hope you like it! Warning: Angst

Watching over you You were stirring in your sleep again. Something you did often lately. From behind your closed eyes tears started to flow over your cheeks, wetting the pillow underneath you. Right now, Loki wanted nothing more than to wake you and hold you close to him, hoping to comfort you. Tell you that everything is going to be okay. But he couldn’t do any of that. He was dead, or at least that is what everyone thinks. Plus, he had to change back to himself, and he couldn’t risk that either. It was safer to stay in this form. He wasn’t even supposed to be here, he should be in Asgard, planning the best moment to strike against Odin. But he couldn’t help himself, he had to see how you were doing. Even with dark circles under your eyes and in lazy/comfortable clothes, you still were beautiful to him. Something he would have told you, he wanted to tell you for so long, but every time you looked at him his tongue had failed him. You finally fell back in a peaceful slumber. Loki decided he would stay for one more night and then get to work. He flew to the ceiling above you, looked one more time at you sleeping form, before falling asleep himself.

Next morning

The sun was already shining brightly trough the windows. Loki had been watching you all morning. You hadn’t bothered setting an alarm clock, and when you woke up you grunted and turned around. There was a knock on the door.“(Y/N), time to get out of bed!” Natasha said. When you didn’t respond she entered the bedroom. It was her day today. You didn’t know it, you hadn’t even noticed a pattern. But some of the Avengers divided days among them to look after you. They were worried about the state you were in. Barely coming out of your room, not eating, not showering, and not wanting to talk about it. Not everyone agreed to it, however. Since not all people could understand that it was losing him what was causing you to act this way. To be honest, Loki never anticipated that you would be this much affected by his death. The two of you were friends since you were kids. You were one of the few people that somehow got him to open up. It didn’t take long to develop a crush on you, but he wasn’t the only one. A lot of guys in Asgard had, how could they not? You were beautiful, kind, patient, and the way you laughed sounded like Valhalla itself. Even tough you had a lot of friends, you always made time for him. You truly were the kindest person he had ever met.

Loki’s thoughts were interrupted when he heard you yell. “Just leave me alone!” He was shocked. In all the time that he’d known you, he never heard you yell. You never even raised your voice. Always staying calm, because no matter how angry you were ‘raising your voice was a sign for people that you weren’t in control of yourself anymore’ you once said to him. Natasha somehow got you to agree to get out of bed. The Widow is rather good in manipulation, Loki had to admit. “Once you’re ready, meet me in the training room. Oh, and don’t forget to open a window. You’re starting to attract flies.” Natasha said while she was leaving your room. You turned around and were staring at the fly on your ceiling for a few minutes. Loki thought you were about to cry again, but you held back your tears and got out of bed. If only you knew it was him on the ceiling.

Once you were gone, Loki in his fly-form, buzzed towards the training room too. Settling on the top of a punching bag, giving him an excellent view over the whole room. Your training with Natasha was hilarious to watch. He loved to watch you kick someone’s ass, and as a trained warrior Natasha didn’t stand much of a chance. Tough she held up against you longer than Loki would have guessed. “So, are you liking Earth, or ehm.. Midgard as you say it, so far?” Natasha asked you. “It’s fine” you replied rather uninterested in engaging in a conversation. “Thor hoped bringing you here would distract you a bit. Is it working?” Natasha went on. “Look, I get what you all are trying to do. And it’s not that I’m ungrateful, but I just want to be alone right now” you replied while making your way to the exit. “(Y/N), we can help you” Natasha tried one last time. When you turned back Loki saw different emotions on your face. It went quickly, but he noticed the sad expression with tears forming in your eyes. You blinked to vanish the tears, and your expression changed from sad to angry, and he swore that in between he saw regret. Why regret? Regret for what? he wondered. “Stop, just stop okay. You all hated him, so don’t for a second pretend that you even care” you spat back, angrily slamming the door on your way out.

The rest of the afternoon, you got your wish. Nobody bothered to see how you were doing or to get you out of bed again. This angered Loki much, but then again it was his fault you were feeling this way. While you were crying, Loki was lost in thought again. He should, he really should go back to Asgard after today. But how could he, knowing you were hurting. He couldn’t leave you like this, but he also couldn’t bare to watch it for much longer. If he knew how much his death would affect you, he would have thought of another plan to avoid going back to his cell. Even when he was locked up, you visited him often. You weren’t angry with him, just glad he was still alive. To his surprise you got guards to agree to let you into his cell. Playing games, reading, and laughing together. He thought he would never see you again after his failed attempt to rule Midgard. Even tough he never truly wanted to rule Midgard, but had to fulfil his assignment, and saw no way of escaping his faith. That was something he couldn’t tell people. He had almost told you, the first time you visited. He really wanted to, he couldn’t stand the thought of you thinking of him like everybody else did. But he was struggling with the words and then the guards came to tell the two of you, that the visiting time was over. Before you left his cell you gave him a kiss on his cheek. “When you’re ready to tell me, I’ll be there” you had whispered. That kiss on his cheek was the best moment of his life.

In the end of the afternoon the Soldier had entered your room. He convinced you to get out of bed and took you to the living room. Loki, of course, flying right behind the two of you. Most of the team was already sitting in the living room. Thor was still on Asgard, and Loki noticed that Tony and Clint were also missing. You sat down, staring at the floor. “(Y/N), we really think you should get some professional help. We are getting worried about you” Steve began this little intervention. He was getting on and on about mental health, grief, and your sudden anger outbursts. If Loki were able in this form he would have rolled his eyes at the boring lecture. Before you got a chance to reply that door of the living room burst open. A very intoxicated Tony walked through them, going straight to the bar to pour himself another drink. I should have killed that men when I had the chance Loki thought.

Steve cleared his throat “Do you mind?” he said, clearly irritated by Tony’s behaviour. “Come on, is she still moping around because he’s dead” You looked up and gave Tony a murderous look. “Tony, stay out of this” Natasha warned him. Instead of taking her warning, Tony walked towards the group. “Come on, we all know the world is a better place without him” he continued. You stood up from your chair, balling your fists. “It’s not. Now, shut up” you yelled. “He was arrogant, egotistic, a murderer and just evil” Tony said while raising his voice. “Why would you even miss him? Why would anyone even care?” The anger was flaring through your eyes. At this point you were screaming. “He was not perfect, but who is?! He was kind, funny and incredibly smart. And given what he had to deal with in his life he is a better man than you ever could be!” You fell back in your chair, and noticed the tears falling from your face.

There was a long silence. Then Natasha broke it “You were in love with him” she said. Everyone looked at you. Loki began to grow very nervous and was holding his breath, waiting for you to react. “I am” you whispered. “Did he know?” she asked. “I- eh, no… Right before he and Thor would leave I wanted to tell him. But I got scared and decided to tell him afterwards.. and now..” you cried. “Maybe if I had, he would have stayed, or things would be different” you went on. Loki couldn’t believe what he was hearing. You were in love with HIM? Why? How long? And why hadn’t he noticed or told you that he felt the same way? He really was the stupidest man alive right now. Wait, what? You’re blaming yourself for his death?

“How could anyone ever love that monster?” Tony said. Before Loki could keep track of his thoughts you were on your feet. A sudden energy blast flew across the room, knocking Tony to the wall, he was laying unconsciousness on the ground. Everyone, including you and Loki, were in complete shock. Bruce went to Tony and confirmed that he was okay. “You have powers?” Steve asked. You were standing in pure shock, staring at your hands. Loki was also in shock, he recognized that kind of magic. It was the same as his. All this time he’d known you, he never sensed that you had magic. How could he never have known all these things about you? How could he have been so stupid? So blind? You ran towards your room and Loki flew as fast as he could. Maybe he should reveal himself, after all the only other known person for her magic was his mother. But she wasn’t alive anymore. He was, he could teach you everything he knows. Before he had a chance to decide the Soldier walked in your room.

“(Y/N), are you okay?” he asked. Stupid question, she thinks the person she loves is dead, she just discovered she has magic, a underappreciated trait from where she’s from and is currently crying Loki thought. After your stopped crying you finally spoke up. “How’s Tony doing?” you asked meekly. Loki couldn’t believe that you would even consider his wellbeing, but also loved you for it. “He will be fine, he had it coming. He is an ass when he is that drunk” Steve said. “Thor comes in next week, and we will figure something out. Maybe he knows someone who can teach you” he went on. “Do you guys want me to go back to Asgard?” you asked. Steve gave you a reassuring smile “You’re welcome for as long as you like” he said. You started to cry again, and he put his arms around you, holding you close. Loki felt jealousy stirring inside him. He wanted to be the one who could hold you in his arms. Not being able to watch anymore he flew away. He had work to do. He had a throne to conquer and think how he was going to make up for everything he is putting you through. He couldn’t wait to have you rule by his side. His queen.

#loki #loki fanfic #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki x reader #loki x you #loki x ofc #loki x original female character #loki marvel #marvel #mcu #mcu x you #mcu x reader #loki fandom #loki story

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soyeahitsmiddleearth · 3 years

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hello! i was wondering if you could write the following request; you are a member of the Brotherhood, the most dangerous assassins league of Middle Earth. To say that the Company of Thorin Oakenshield is both impressed and intimidated is an understatement.

The Company/Reader: Killer Good Looks pt.1

Trigger Warnings: Referenced assault and child abuse, murder

----

To say you're an excellent fighter would be a gross understatement.

You're the very definition of a rogue; you like shiny things, you're stealthy, cunning, persuasive, what are we missing...? Oh! And you're also an infamous deadly assassin for hire, and you get hired alright.

You're wanted (in more ways than one), for people are always looking for someone to fulfill their dirty deeds for them.

Almost everything is on the table with you; you'll steal things for people (and yourself), kill if the price is right, infiltrate and lie, and many other things, however, there are some things off limits.

For example, you won't kill kids. You never have and you never will, you flat out refuse; you also don't sell yourself to others for pleasure or other things of inappropriate nature; and, most importantly of all, you don't kill those whom you have a relationship with (meaning you don't kill friends, though those are few and far between).

When you were but a child your parents sold you off to put bread on their table, and you knew nothing but torment from that moment on.

For months the lady's husband would sneak into your rooms at night, and she would always pretend not to notice; she took to releasing her frustrations out on you under the false pretense that you were an issue, beating you, berating you, yelling, abusing; they were horrible people taking advantage of a 10 year old child in every way imaginable.

You felt no remorse when you finally gathered the courage to slit their throats one night, and to this day you still don't.

The news of your deeds spread quickly, for they proved to be quite shocking and a wonderful topic for conversation.

A mere child servant manages to kill their masters unseen and unheard, escaping into the night never to be seen again? That would catch anyones attention. And it certainly caught the attention of The Brotherhood.

They found you, took you in, and honed your sloppy skills to make you into the perfect, lethal weapon.

You've killed more people than you can count, stolen more than even the richest man has, and lied to everyone you've ever met at least once.

It's safe to say that you're not exactly a stand up citizen.

Your name, as well as the name of the organization who taught you all you know, is well known throughout Middle Earth which is why you were, ultimately, employed to assist and protect the line of Durin in their journey to reclaim Erebor...

Except, unbeknownst to them, you have ulterior orders from The Brotherhood regarding the operation.

Once the dragon is either confirmed dead or slain and the mountain is reclaimed, you are to kill the Durin's (and anyone else who stands in your way) and claim the mountain for The Brotherhood.

When you were first given this assignment you had no qualms with it.

Yes, dwarfs are strong, brave, and resilient, but you are fast, intelligent, and one of the best fighters in the organization because of your early start and ability to disconnect yourself from almost every situation. Also, you don't know them, any of them, and you've never had trouble killing royal, powerful people before.

It was supposed to be easy.

You joined the group in a cute little place called The Shire in a hobbit hole belonging to one Bilbo Baggins, and when you met everyone you figured that killing them would be easy, but as time went on you began to forget about your mission.

Everything started out simple. You didn't talk much and they stayed away from you for the most part; partially out of intimidation, but also from reservations on disturbing you.

You're a private person, and they'd hate to make you dislike them by being nosy or prying.

Gandalf is the only one who knows of your past, but even knowing who you truly are, he never for a second suspected what your true purpose was.

It's around the time you all leave Rivendell and return to the road when things start to change.

Thorin wanted to keep a schedule and reach the Misty Mountains before the end of the 4th week, and halfway into the 4th, you're already there are the entrance to the mountain pass.

Because the group makes such excellent time Thorin chooses to reward the group with a day and night full of rest to spend restocking supplies, regrouping, and relaxing, which is something that benefits you all greatly.

By this point, you've worked up enough 'trust' to actually sleep in short bursts around them, and you take full advantage of this day of rest to regain your strength.

At some point during the night you manage to fall asleep, and hen you wake you find that you managed to pass out for a good 4 hours.

The very first thing you notice is Dwalin sitting not far from you, and the blanket draped over your resting form.

To say you're taken off guard would be an understatement, for you never expected to be treated with such tenderness (or at least, tenderness by your definition considering the life you've lead).

"Dwalin...?" You call after a time of looking ahead, wanting to find out his motivations.

His gaze snaps over to you and a small, greeting smile falls upon his lips, "Good evening. It is mid-night, I'm sure you'd like to know."

You glance briefly up at the sky and observe the position of the moon and stars and find that he's correct, then your gaze returns to his face. "I see. What are you doing over here, though?"

The balding dwarf looks a tad more sheepish when you ask your question, and his voice contains slight embarrassment, "Well, we know you don't much like sleeping around us, or in general, so I thought that keeping watch here may help you feel even a bit safer."

Those words shock you to your very core.

"You'll always be safe with us, you should know. You protect us in waking, so the least we can do is return the favor in sleeping."

Any and all responses that come to your mind in this moment seem inadequate in comparison to his declaration, so you're left sitting there looking at him with a blank, yet dumbfounded stare.

"You needn't say anything in response. I just thought you should know." Another smile graces upon his lips, and then his attention turns back out towards the darkened tree line surrounding the mini camp in a half circle. "Sleep more if the desire is to suddenly strike you."

And, for some odd reason, you do.

---

For the first time in what has to be years, you sleep through the night and do not wake again until the sun beckons you to do so.

When the first light shines through the trees and makes the forest sparkle with morning magic, you arise and find that a new dwarf, Ori, has taken the place of Dwalin.

A feeling, one that you can't identify, rises within you, and you find yourself unable to handle it.

"Ori." You greet curtly, "I am going to depart for a time. Expect me back in 20 minutes."

The young dwarf looks up at you and nods shallowly, not even entertaining the thought that you would need an escort. "Alright. Get back safely."

His words linger with you after you leave, for the act of being cared for is alien to you.

When was the last time someone genuinely cared for your well-being and not just what they would lose if you were to perish? When was the last time someone thought of you as a person who could be harmed instead of a weapon that maybe tarnished every-so-often?

These thoughts plague your mind as you go to search the game traps you lay around the camp the morning before, and you find that the prize is well worth the early journey.

3 rabbits, 2 squirrels, and a wild hog around 2 feet long and a foot wide. The hog you caught along the way, actually. It had been sniffing around one of the game traps you sent (the trap wouldn't have been strong enough to hold it anyways), and you wasted no time in throwing a dagger straight into its' head.

You string up the rabbits into a line of rope and carry the hog over your shoulders (it's really heavy, so you made sure to evenly distribute the weight), and then you head straight for the group with your prizes in hand.

When you enter the clearing you're noticed immediately, for the game hanging from your body draw a lot of attention.

"Odin's beard!" Gloin exclaims, jumping up from his spot once his eyes fall upon you, "Look at all of that!"

All eyes are on you as soon as the red-haired dwarf alerts them to your presence, but you maintain a mask of nothing even despite your discomfort with being the center of attention.

"Where did you get all that?" Fili calls, getting up and approaching you to help carry the load.

You shrug off the line of rabbits and squirrels to him when he begins to tug on it and bring the hog to the middle of the camp, dropping it down heavily.

Bombur looks up at you with a grand smile and praises you in his low, baritone voice, "Well will you look at that! Now that's a hog."

You dip your head in acknowledgement of his compliments and offer right after, "Do you want me to skin them?"

"Oh, no, no! You have done more enough for us, we can manage that at the very least." The older dwarf assures you, patting the fat belly of the swine, "Thank you, lass. We haven't had a commendable meal in months, so this will be a real treat."

You received so many compliments and acclimations that you almost began to blush, but that's an unconscious ability that had left you a long time ago.

Everyone traveled with full bellies that afternoon, and there was plenty of leftovers to last everyone well into the next day as well.

Things like this are seldom the topic of talk or praise in the organization you work for, and you can never rely on anyone. You're all thieves, after all. Liars, tricksters, murderers... how could you trust someone like that to have your back? But... somehow, they trust you to protect them and their precious royal friends.

You: the liar, trickster, and murderer.

They sleep in your presence as if you hadn't stolen millions in treasure, product, and money; as if you hadn't killed a quarter of the people you've met in your lifetime. They trust you, the real you (or at least the realest version of you that there is), and it's a truly foreign feeling.

Of course, even though these good feelings long since lost to you have returned for a time, you keep yourself in check with the thoughts of what they would do to you if they found about your true intentions.

The images of their betrayed, angry faces, the disgust that would shine in their eyes when they realize what you're truly capable of... you're always sure to not lose sight of your end goal; the Mountain of Erebor and its' lost treasure. If you're to fail, you're certain that you'll be killed (either by the dwarfs or The Brotherhood), so you don't even entertain the thought of abandoning your mission.

---

Later in the day, during the trek up those horrible, treacherous mountains, you're approached by Bofur, the hat wearing dwarf with a smile more contagious than any sickness.

"Hello." You greet curtly when he falls into step beside you, eyeing him in your peripherals. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"Oh, no." He shakes his head no and reaches up to straighten his fur hat, "You just looked a little lonely, is all."

Lonely, huh?

You don't reply right away and look ahead with your usual blank expression and dull eyes, though you do feel an uncomfortable, appreciative feeling swell inside of you. "I am not lonely." You inform him matter-of-factly, though when you glance down at his face you see that your words have slightly hurt his feelings.

Your heart twists slightly painfully when you see his saddened countenance, and before you can even think about it you're blurting out, "But I welcome the company regardless."

His frown is immediately replaced with a brilliant smile and his eyes positively shine with enthusiasm; you never thought your acceptance would garner such a reaction from him (much less anyone for that matter).

The dwarf practically talks your ear off while the 15 of you travel up the Misty Mountains, telling you everything he possibly can about his homeland, family, and feelings regarding the journey (as well as other things), and while all this incessant blathering would normally irk you, you actually find that you quite like it.

Bofur's excited speech does eventually die down when it starts to rain, though, for he and yourself both think it safer to concentrate on the hike as its level of danger grows.

It isn't long before night falls, and once it does the rain becomes a much more dangerous obstacle.

There is lower visibility and the rocks become horribly slippery, though neither of these things could ever hope to top the giant stone beasts that begin to battle right in front of you all.

The stone giants don't seem notice any of you, and if they do then they simply don't care, and you all barely escape with your lives. They throw huge boulders bigger than any building you've ever seen, and their hand-to-hand combat leaves you all shaking against the mountainside, fearful of falling to your deaths as you sway every which way.

To your, and everyone else's luck and great joy, a little cave in the mountainside appears before you all (after a horrible death scare with half of the company), and it becomes your resting spot for the night.

You, like usual, choose a spot closest to the cave entrance with rock that covers both your back and left side and fall asleep effortlessly. You plan on only resting for four or so hours, hopefully until the rain passes, and then you can resume watch so the others may regain their strength (they're heavier and bigger than you, so they need more rest and food).

Those 4 hours (and an extra half!) pass by without issue and your internal clock eventually wakes you up.

One of the first things you see when your eyes flutter open is the stone ceiling of the cave hovering above you, and the next is Bofur who sits in the little watch spot right across from your sleeping area.

You sit up as soon as your sleep addled mind clears and your blurry eyes gain focus and call softly, "Bofur, go ahead and take a rest. I can resume your watch."

The dwarf jumps slightly when your soft voice breaks through the silence and reaches out to him, but he doesn't move to get up. Instead, a small smile upturns the corners of his lips and he whispers back, "No, you do a watch of your own every night and refuse to wake anyone else up often enough. Please, go back to sleep."

He noticed that?

You can't even keep the surprise from your face, for your eyes widen almost imperceptibly and your lips part slightly. "I..." You've been shocked speechless, something that you thought impossible.

"We have all noticed, in case you're wondering. Now, go ahead and resume sleep. I've still got another 30 minutes of watch."

And, for some reason, you don't protest.

Sleep calls to you and tugs at your eyelids, making them heavy and causing your eyes to burn. What spell have they put you under to make you tired again under a simple command, you wonder?

You fall back asleep despite yourself, but it doesn't last long, for within 20 minutes after Bilbo tries to leave and the storm begins to quiet, the floor opens beneath you all and swallows everyone whole.

#the company x reader #thorin oakenshield #bofur #dwalin #bilbo #fili #kili #assassin reader #reader insert #the hobbit fanfiction #the hobbit #bofur x reader #thorin oakenshield x reader #dwalin x reader #bilbo x reader #kili x reader #fili x reader

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weasleyantics · 3 years

Text

TERRYFIED

Summary: You’ve been friends with the twins for as long as you can remember, although your feelings for George developed into something more over the years. You’ve never been able to muster up the courage to confess but will that change after you almost lost him?

A/N: this takes place during the Deathly Hollows (when they’re transporting Harry to the Burrow). Also this is the first thing that I’ve wrote so I hope you like it and feel free to request for other Harry Potter character! 🖤 (English isn’t my first language so if there’s any mistakes you can tell me so I can correct them 😊)

I listened to this while writing this so if you want to check it out here it is: https://open.spotify.com/track/7gYwIAHB6VxzLJFSZMMv8i?si=twJ7AA0eTvWg3daZU1BTJQ

Saying that the last couple of years hadn’t gone as you’d expected was an understatement. Since Voldemort came back everything went downhill. You had to endure your last year at Hogwarts without your best friends since they went off to start their business, you were truly happy and proud of them but having to stand up to Umbridge on your own wasn’t easy. After graduation, you moved in with the twins and helped them with the shop while you were beginning your preparation to be an auror and helped the Order.

That’s how you found yourself in Privet Drive, about to go on the most dangerous mission you’ve done until now. You were standing next to Fred and George while Moody was explaining the plan.

“Are you okay?” George whispered looking at your concerned face.

“Yeah, it’s just...” You fidgeted nervously “I have an off feeling about this.” You answered looking up at him.

“Everything will be fine, Moody has been planning this for months and you know the guy, there’s nothing that can escape him and his spinning eye.”He said gesturing weirdly to make you smile. “Besides I’ll be there with you.”

“You’re probably right, although having your idiotic ass with us will probably increase our possibilities to die.” You said as yo shoved him lightly and gave him a small smile.

“Hey! That was rude of you my lady, I was just trying to be a gentleman.” He said while pretending to be hurt which only made your smile grow bigger. George had always been really good at making you feel at ease.

“Is everything clear?” Moody said breaking the moment as he finished explaining. Once everyone answered and got ready you went outside to get on your transports.

You were still nervous about all of this, there was something that didn’t feel right to you. You found yourself looking at George, something that happened quite often over the course of the past few years. If someone asked you when you fell in love with George Weasley you wouldn’t be able to answer, it just happened, it was slow and you didn’t even realise you were falling.

“Everything will be alright, don’t worry.” George said as he got on his broom.

“I still can’t get over the fact that you look like Harry.” You said still looking at him.

“I know! I mean look at Freddie and I, we look identical.” He joked.

“What a tragedy! Everyone knew I was the better looking twin and now I don’t even know who I am!” Fred yelled being dramatic.

You couldn’t help but smile at the twins antics, they were able to make anyone light up even in the worst situations. Then Moody told everyone to get ready to go.

“See you at the Burrow darling.” George said as he winked at you.

“Don’t fall off your broom Weasley.” You smiled at him one last time before taking off.

——————————————————————————

You were one of the first ones to get to the Burrow. Getting here was hell, you had been ratted out, you saw Moody falling off his broom and couldn’t stop replaying the scene on your head, feeling useless for not being able to do anything to save him. You were pacing back and forth on the living room, worried sick about the ones who hadn’t arrived yet. Molly seemed just as nervous as you since no one from her family had returned.

What if something had happened to them? What if one of the twins fell of their broom? Maybe this was why you were feeling off. Suddenly your train of thought got interrupted by loud voices, someone had arrived. You ran outside as fast as you could to see who it was. The first thing that you saw was Remus, who seemed to be safe, but just as you were about to let about a sigh of relief you saw George. He was being carried by Remus and seemed to be half unconscious, there was blood coming out of his head and his side was almost completely covered by it. You felt your heart stop at that moment.

“Ginny clear the living room and bring me the first aid kid fast!” You yelled as you ran towards Remus and George. “What happened?”

“A curse got him, he almost dodged it but it got his ear.” Remus said with a strained voice.

You helped him to carry George inside as fast as you could and got him to lay on the sofa. Ginny had already brought you what you asked for and Molly was next to the sofa on the verge of tears looking at her son.

“George can you hear me?” You were trying to be as calm as you could but you. He didn’t respond at first which only made you even more worried, you couldn’t lose him, you just couldn’t. “George please.” You said squeezing his hand.

“That was one hell of a ride” His voice was so quiet that you thought you’d imagined it.

You immediately started to take care of him. “Vulnera Sanentur.” You waved your wand in front of the wound, trying to heal it as much as you could.

You were so focused on healing George and bandaging his head that you didn’t even notice that the rest had arrived. Fred was by your side talking to George but you couldn’t even hear what they were saying. Everything was kind of a blurr to you.

“Y/N?” George said looking at you. You hadn’t realised that you had been staying still for a couple minutes now.

“I’m sorry, I...” The rush of adrenaline you had felt until then was starting to fade and you were exhausted. “I think I’m going to go to get some rest, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You got up as quickly as possible and ran off to your room. It was just too much to process, you had lost Moody, George had been hit by a curse and, miraculously, had only lost an ear. What would’ve happened if you’d lost him? You couldn’t even bear the thought of it.

——————————————————————————

After a couple hours tossing around on your bed you decided to go downstairs to get a cup of water and maybe walk outside for a bit to try to clear up your head. Once you were in the kitchen you opened up the cabinet where the Wasleys usually kept their cups and mugs, but you couldn’t reach the top shelf to get them.

“Do you need help with that?” The sudden voice made you jump.

George was leaning on the doorframe with his arms crossed around his chest, his hair was a mess and he looked as if he couldn’t sleep either, faint dark circles were starting to form under his eyes and he seemed really tired. Despite that, he was looking at you with a smile on his face, as if seeing you failing to reach the cups amused him.

You just stood there, with the cup in your hands, unable to look away from him. You couldn’t say anything, after everything that happened that night nothing seemed enough. You hadn’t even processed the fact that, although he was injured, he was safe and he was there with you.

“Here let me help you with that.” Before you were able to answer he moved to stand right behind you and reached for the cup. “Here.” He handed you the cup with the smile still present on his face.

“How are you doing darling?” He asked, after moving a couple of steps back to be able to look at you. That question finally made something snap inside of you.

“How am I doing? You’re asking me how I’m doing?” Your voice came out louder than you had expected it. “You got hit by a freaking curse and you’re asking me how I’m doing. You shouldn’t even be here, you should be resting.”

“You left in a rush earlier, besides I’m okay it’s nothing, just a little scratch.” He was trying to calm you down but it wasn’t going to work.

“It’s not nothing, George. Tonight was awfully dangerous and you’re just walking around acting like everything’s fine as if it was over.” You voice was even louder than before.

“Hey, look at me, I’m okay.” He tried to reach out to you but you brushed him away.

“Stop saying that it’s fine! Don’t you get it? I could’ve lost you George.” You were almost yelling at this point as you came closer to him and started to hit his chest with your finger. “How do you think I felt when I saw you arrive with blood everywhere?! What would’ve happened if Remus hadn’t been there?! I... I could’ve lost you.” The last part came out like a faint whisper.

George just stood there for what felt like an eternity, starting at you. Slowly he came even closer to you, he moved his hands up to cup your cheeks and he started to wipe away the tears that were falling down your face. Just when you were about to say something more he crashed his lips onto yours. At first you stood still trying to figure out what was happening. Soon you started to kiss him back.

The kiss started soft, as if both of you were afraid that the other would disappear at any moment. George’s hands moved from your face to your waist, bringing you even closer to him. You brought you hands up to the back of his neck as the kiss got more intense. Neither of you wanted to let go of the other but you needed to breathe.

“I told you that everything would be fine, didn’t I?” He said as he leaned his forehead against yours.

“You’re an idiot you know that?” You said with your eyes still closed from the kiss. “I’m sorry for yelling at you, I just couldn’t bare the thought of losing you and the fact that I never got to tell you how I felt made it even worse.”

You cupped his face with one of your hands, carefully caressing his cheek with you thumb. He clasped his eyes and leaned into your touch.

“And how do you feel about me?” His voice was just loud enough so you could hear it.

“I’m in love with you George Weasley.”

“Well that’s good because I’m madly in love with you Y/N Y/L/N.”

This time it was you who leaned in to kiss him. You had found a light in the darkness that you were living and you were going to hold onto it.

#george weasley angst #george weasley fluff #george weasley imagine #harry potter #harry potter imagine #weasley twins #george weasley #fred weasley #george weasley x reader #deathly hollows #Spotify #george weasley oneshot #harry potter x reader #harry potter oneshot #weasley twins imagine #Weasley twins oneshot

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ricksroaches · 3 years

Text

Jimin - Dysphoria ch. 2

pairing: Yoongi x Reader, OT7 x Reader (platonic)

summary: Jimin gets in trouble defending Y/N. Later that night things get deep.

notes: Y/N is based of an OC so if a few traits don't match yours I'm sorry T.T. To clear things up, this chapter takes place like a year before the actual storyline. Present day, Y/N and Jimin are juniors.

word count: 4.5k

warnings: cursing, mental illness, drugs (weed, LSD), smut (fingering, spanking, v penetration), mentions of sexual assault

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Jimin lost his virginity when he was 14.

Too fast? Ight let’s take it back a little.

Jimin was the perfect kid. Obedient, polite, compassionate, the ultimate parent dream package. He was born to please everyone. To give everyone joy, even if that joy was his own. But it wasn’t enough when it came to his parents. Their marriage was rocky even before he was in the picture. They divorced, and his dad moved out when he was 8, leaving his mom to raise him and his older sister by herself. He got a good lawyer and ended up getting out of custody, but his mom managed to get decent child support out of it. If one thing is true about this world it’s that a man with deep pockets can get whatever he wants.

Jimin wouldn’t see his dad for another four years, but life went on as it does; he continued to excel in dance, make good grades, make everyone happy. That was, until Seunghyun came into the picture.

He seemed okay at first. His mom had met him through a friend, and it didn’t take long for them to start dating. He was nice enough, handsome enough, wealthy enough. Jimin remembered the day he met him for the first time.

“Hey, Jimin right?”

“Yes sir.”

“I’ve heard a lot about you. Your mom talks about you a lot.”

“…thank you?”

He laughed. “How old are you?”

“11.”

There was a pause. He simply nodded a few times before clapping him on the shoulder. “You’re a good kid. Keep that up.”

Seunghyun began coming over more and more frequently, most times even staying the night. Jimin had grown to like him quite a bit. He always brought something for him like a candy bar or a pair of Ray Bans he didn’t wear anymore. He often took him out to get ice cream and other spur of the moment treats.

Jimin's sister, Roseanne, was also a dancer. In fact, she was the reason he started. She was the whole world in his eyes and the most beautiful dancer he’d ever seen. Her dancing was the kind that sucked the air out of the room. No one dared breathe as everyone’s eyes followed her fluid movements. You simply couldn’t take your eyes off her in fear of missing a detail. It didn’t matter what you were doing. If Rose was dancing, you were watching.

Rose had a dance tournament in L.A., a solid 6 hour drive from their home in San Francisco. Mom was too busy with work to take her, so Seunghyun offered which she gratefully accepted. Jimin wasn’t worried at all, he knew she’d beat everyone there, which was why it surprised him to see her come home with a broken spirit. When he asked her what happened she simply said, “I didn’t make it.” He consoled her while she wept throughout the next two nights.

It wasn’t until the boys’ trip Seunghyun planned as an extra birthday gift that he would understand Rose’s tears. He’d just turned 12.

Jimin separated his life into two books. One of his life before that trip. The other, his life since. He often kept himself up at night wishing he hadn’t gone, and that he would never become the person he is now.

What happened on the trip, however, it didn’t stop. In fact, it happened more and more often, and it wasn’t just him, it was Rose too. The night Jimin heard Seunghyun slip into his sister's room next door, he made a decision.

He started taking the brunt of Seunghyun’s doings to keep him away from Rose. He could tell she was wilting. Her dance had become lethargic and she rarely competed anymore. Jimin wouldn’t have that. If he had one purpose in this world, it was to make Roseanne happy.

The promiscuity began in 7th grade with his first kiss at the back to school dance with Megan Shelby, one of the most popular girls in school. Their brief relationship rocketed him to the top of the dating hierarchy. By the end of the semester, he’d had 3 girlfriends and 4 boyfriends. Oh yeah, he knew he swung that way for a while now.

By 8th grade, things became more sexual. He just needed more. That rush that he got feeling someone else’s lips on his, getting to touch their body any way he liked, being touched himself, it was addictive. In those moments, he could forget about everything and enjoy himself for once.

His first nude was leaked by a boy who pretended to be gay for a month so Jimin would send to him. He didn’t have much shame when it came to sending nudes. He never asked for any, he was a gentleman. But if asked, if the guy was cute enough, he would.

Jacob. God that boy. Jimin was head over heels for that boy. Whatever he wanted, Jimin did. His first time giving head was pretty scary. He gagged a lot and could barely fit half of him, but it was the hardest he’d ever been in his life.

It didn’t take long for Jacob to want more than blowjobs. It was a spur of the moment thing, really. It was the summer before freshman year, Jacob had gotten them invited to a high school party, and Jimin’s mom had just broken up with Seunghyun (for reasons unrelated to this story). That was also the first night Jimin had ever gotten drunk. This was his night to secretly celebrate his freedom from the burden he lived with for three years. He took to the stuff rather quickly and before long Jacob was carrying him slurring up the stairs to a bedroom for him to rest.

Jimin playfully initiated a make out session that got pretty hot and heavy thanks to the alcohol. It was then that Jacob pulled back and popped the question. Jimin thought about it for a good 4 seconds before smashing his lips back onto his beloved boyfriend’s.

A new chapter in the Book of Jimin was written that night.

Jacob ended up cheating on him to which Jimin proceeded to rack up the highest body count in the school. It’s ancient history.

Despite his vigorous sexual awakening, Jimin remained the same angel in every adult’s eyes. It was hard to live with the memories of Seunghyun that plagued him almost every waking moment. He was finding it more and more difficult to come up with excuses for his breakdowns that sent him home from school. He couldn’t tell his mom. It would break her heart. So he dealt with it on his own, hiding all of his pain and fear behind a polite smile.

~~~

SOPHOMORE YEAR - OCTOBER

“All I’m saying is, dying of old age is like dying from not dying.”

Jimin swung his locker closed revealing the unzipped hoodie clad Y/N leaning against the locker beside him. “It took you ten minutes just to say that?”

“If you won’t appreciate my philosophical ideas then I will take them elsewhere.” He eyed her down.

“Y/N, you probably can’t even stand up straight right now.”

“And why might you say that?”

“Because it’s the last day before fall break I know you're high as tits right now.” She let out a slurred chuckle. She leaned her temple against the red metal and gazed at him with a dopey smile spread across her face. “Yeah, uh huh. Didn’t even share with me, bitchass. Now let’s go.”

“Yessir.” She stuffed her hand in her shorts pockets in search of her keys when a rough slap to her ass made her stiff as a board.

“Nice ass, L/N. You should wear those more often.” She could barely recognize the voice as Will Jacobs before he was on the floor with Jimin on top of absolutely wailing on him. He paused his assault briefly.

“You never touch her! You hear me?!”

Will glanced at her before zoning back in on Jimin. “Her? Tell her not to wear something like that and not expect feedbac-” he was cut off by Jimin's fist connecting to his nose with a delicious crunch. He didn’t stop, though. He kept punching and punching and punching. By now, a crowd had formed shouting and chanting for either boy. Y/N didn’t do anything to stop it. She stood there, keys dangling from her finger, in stoned awe. Although the sober side of her would’ve enjoyed to see it happen nonetheless. She was also too stoned to warn him about the principle marching towards the pair.

“JIMIN PARK!” His fist stopped midair, fully reared back to strike. The circle scattered like rats upon their fighters’ capture. He was yanked up by the back of his shirt and Will was hauled to his feet by two security guards, a shit eating grin on his blood smeared face. Jimin turned to Y/N, who’s mouth was still hanging open, while being dragged to the office.

“Just go without me. This is gonna be a while.” To which she dumbly nodded and made her way out of the building baked and confused.

~~~

The sun had set and Y/N still had no word from Jimin. She assumed his mom took his phone as punishment or something so she went about her business, albeit a little bummed.

She had just settled on her bed with her bong nestled in her lap when a soft knock at her window made her jump. She whirled around to see Jimin crouched outside her window. She unlatched it and shoved it up with a half annoyed huff half sigh of relief. “What the hell are you doing?” He ignored her query and slipped through the window and rolled onto her floor.

“I told my mom I’m at Tae’s. I just wanted to see you after earlier.” With a nod of approval, she turned around to inspect her bong for any damage.

“I live alone dipshit you could’ve used the door.”

“Oh, right. I keep forgetting that.”

Yes. Y/N lives alone. We’ll unpack that later.

“So what happened?” She settled back in her spot but set the hot pink crystal contraption on her nightstand. Jimin crawled onto her bed and collapsed into the soft blankets. The smell of weed mingled with the lavender fabric softener to create a devastating blend that could knock anyone out for hours.

“Most of it was just them saying how disappointed they were and how I tainted my ‘flawless’ record. They didn’t even address the reason I gave them for doing it.” His lips twitched into a hateful scowl briefly. “They’re suspending me for three days.”

“But it’s fall break.”

“Exactly, that’s why I’m suspended the first three days we get back. Jokes on them, I just got my break extended.”

“What about Will?”

“He was in the nurse’s office the whole time.” She casually lifted her fist and he bumped it.

“That’s my guy.”

There was a comfortable silence while the two relived the moment in their heads. She was thinking about how stupid she probably looked watching the ordeal. He wished he’d done more damage.

“Hey, Jimmy boy?”

“Yes, bitch?”

“You wanna get high?”

Y/N had just gotten a new sheet and wanted to try it out. They placed the tabs on each other’s tongues and watched the little mushroom design dissolve. An hour later they were sitting across from each other staring at the other giggling incoherently.

She studied every one of his features like it was the first time she’d seen him all over again. His peach hair was parted down the middle, bangs brushing his temples. His clean, solid eyebrows were in perfect contrast to his sun kissed skin. His eyes formed tiny crescents when he smiled only adding to his adorable look. His smile…….his smile. Perfect, pink, pillowy lips she could only describe as belonging to an angel. Glowing white teeth that radiated beauty every time he opened his mouth. His face slowly began to look like an oil painting on canvas the longer she stared at him. Her smile grew ever wider as she traced the brush strokes along his jaw and the delicate shading of his toned neck.

Jimin gazed at Y/N’s face with pure adoration. All of his love for her magnetized by the dopamine dump in his brain, and he hoped she saw herself the way he did. Her wild curls wiggled in place like a cute version of Medusa’s snakes. Very fun to look at when there’s a whole mane of it. Her freckles sparkled like dots of purple and blue glitter and the moonlight that hit the apple of her cheek shimmered and twinkled like it was coated in diamond dust. A barely audible giggle slipped from her parted lips. It made him giggle too. “What?”

“I’m just so happy…” her spacey smile said it all. He could see in her eyes that she truly meant it. He watched as the color changed from blue, to green, to hazel, to grey. The colors mixed and faded slowly and if you didn’t focus you wouldn’t catch it. He counted each individual fleck of gold in the center of her irises and they glowed like fireflies on a summer night.

“…Jimin..?”

He snapped out of his daze to see that her eyes were wider than they were before. He also realized that she was laying on the bed, and he was on top of her. He was frozen. When did that even happen? He stared back at her with equal shock but neither moved away. Her eyes didn’t show any signs of fear or discomfort. She was just surprised.

Every thought he ever had about her was rammed to the front of his mind and he had the crushing need to show her how special she truly was to him. Without further ado, he smashed his lips down onto hers. She let out the tiniest squeak before quickly returning the favor. She carded her fingers through his hair and pulled him father down to deepen the kiss. His chest was now pressed against hers and the grip on his hair tightened. Few breaths were taken between kisses while she pushed his jacket down his arms and let it drop to the floor.

Jimin took it upon himself to slip his hands under the hem of her shirt and pull it over her head. He slid his palms up and down and stomach and waist, completely lost in the distorted sense of touch that hypnotized him. He was reminded of his task by a soft tug on the hem of his own shirt which he hastily peeled off before diving back into another kiss. He took his course to her jaw and then found purchase on her neck, sucking and biting until wine colored marks dotted her entire neck and collarbone. He made quick work of her plain black bra and tossed it behind him to an unknown corner of the room. He got to work making his marks anywhere and everywhere he could reach. The sharp rise of her chest when she gasped only spurred him on.

His hands snaked down her naked torso and yanked her sleep shorts out from under her before slipping his fingers under the waistband of her undies. Simple black Calvin Klein cheeky cut. Modest, yet tasteful. Her thighs jerked when he found her clit and started rubbing smooth circles, drawing out a silent cry from her behind his lips. He made sure she was good and wet before sinking two fingers past her lips, earning another heavy gasp that made her chest heave against his. He broke the kiss and leaned back much to her disappointment. He pumped his fingers in and out, finding every little nook and cranny to massage. He pressed his palm into the space between her belly button and her entrance and curled his fingers in a ‘come here’ motion, eliciting a satisfying cry from her. He burned the sight of her back arching off the bed at his handiwork into his memory permanently.

He curled and pumped his fingers faster and faster until her walls clenched around his digits and her body shuddered and twitched from the force of the climax he’d brought her. She collapsed against the bed a heaving mess and he gazed down at her with a devilish smile. Demon Jimin had come out to play.

In a flash, he was out of his jeans and back on top in only his boxers. His muscular thighs and arms caged her underneath him as he raked his eyes over her figure before landing on her last remaining article of clothing. Before she knew it, she’d been flipped onto her stomach. His hands glided up her thighs and kneaded the flesh of her ass. With a rough tug, she heard the sound of fabric tearing and cold air hit her core sending a shudder down her spine.

A single, dazzling smack stung her right cheek before the pain was kneaded away. He pressed his body into hers and spoke low in her ear, “You feel that? Only I’m allowed to do that. No one else.”

She could feel the familiar hardness grinding against her ass sending another shiver through her body. He chuckled darkly. “You like that, don’t you?” She nodded, her face pressed into her pillow. He dug his fingers into her hips and abruptly yanked them into the air. Her yelp was muffled by the pillow but he definitely heard it. His boxers were discarded and he lined himself up at her entrance. He teased his tip against her folds watching them flinch with every touch. He sunk his full length into her evoking a high pitched cry from her and a low groan that ripped through his chest.

He wasted no time setting a rhythmic pace that had them both a moaning mess. They could feel every single square inch in 4K and their brains could barely keep up. He was so lost in the feeling he didn’t realize he’d sped up significantly and she was gripping the pillow to muffle her pleasured cries. “Why are you hiding those beautiful noises?” He wrapped his hand around her neck and hoisted her upright on her knees. “I want to hear everything that I do to you. Don’t you dare hold back, because if you go quiet I’ll only fuck you harder.”

He sacrificed speed for force in the new position. More sounds of pleasure spilled from her lips with each snap of his hips. His arm snaked between her breasts to grip her neck and pull her to his chest while he fucked into her with devastating force. The harder he rammed her cervix the louder the cries he squeezed out of her. He increased his speed once again leaving her a rag doll in his arms.

With another flip, she was on her back again and he was back inside her before her vision steadied. He hooked her thighs over his own to get a better angle which sent her curling off the mattress once again. Her head was thrown back and her eyes were squeezed shut to concentrate on the feeling. He gripped both cheeks in one hand and pulled her face down. “Look at me.” Her eyes fluttered open and she tried to find his face among the stars that jumbled her vision. He lined her face up with his, “I want to see those pretty eyes when I make you cum around my dick.” She breathlessly nodded and tried to maintain his scalding gaze while her body was getting shoved into the mattress with every thrust. The headboard cracked against the wall, accompanying her escalating cries when his thumb moved to circle her clit again.

“..-m I’m-”

“Go ahead. Do it.”

Her walls instantly clenched around him eliciting a jagged groan and his daze darkened. He pounded into her while her climax had her screaming loud enough for him to break. He finished after a burst of inhumanly fast strokes, burying his shaft as deep as he could to shoot his load and riding it out with a few hard snaps of his hips. His eyes never left the sea of her irises.

He leaned back and sat on his heels. The only sound in the room was their ragged breaths. He let his head fall back to relish in the aftermath of his ministrations. She watched the beads of sweat trickle between his abs with each swell of his chest. She never thought she’d find herself in this compromising position with someone like Jimin. Yeah, they made out a few times when they were bored but that couldn’t hold a candle to what just went down.

Jimin slid out and rolled over to lay next to her.

“Jimin?”

“Yeah?”

“What are you?”

After a shower that quickly turned into round two, they were dressed and tucked in bed. Her head rested on his chest while she fiddled with the collar of the oversized (on her) grey shirt she’d given him. His arm was wrapped around her waist and his fingers traced her ribs under her shirt in slow, meditative strokes. The old Jimin was back.

“Jimin?”

“Yeah?”

“Why’d you freak so hard with Will? You’ve never gotten in a fight at school, ever.” Her head bobbed with the heavy sigh that escaped him. She lifted her head to look at him. He stared up at the ceiling with a distant look in his eyes. His pink lips curved in a slight grimace.

“You don’t have to tell me.”

“No. I had to tell someone eventually. It might as well be now with someone I trust.” She couldn’t help the rush of confidence at his comment. That good feeling died quickly when she processed what he said. “My mom used to date this guy, Seunghyun.” He had to pause to adjust to saying his name. “He was nice. I liked him. A lot.” She watched his eyes dart around the ceiling trying to remember details of the memory. “They’d been dating for about a year. He was gonna take me on a boys trip to his lake house for my birthday. My sister….She tried to convince me not to go and…and I didn’t know why.” His voice trembled with the last words. “The first night he made me sleep in the same bed as him…The second night…” He looked up to blink the tears out of his eyes. She reached up and wiped them for him with her thumb. “The second night, we were getting ready for bed, and he asked me if…if I knew what sex was. I said yes thinking he was trying to give me the talk. He asked me…..if I ever touched myself…I didn’t know what to say so I said no.” His voice caught in his throat, his words coming out at a higher pitch. “He-” His lips pulled back in a quivering frown and his chest beat with one single, silent sob.

“It’s alright, it’s alright, take your time.”

“He came up behind me…and he stuc-….he stuck his hand…down my underwear.” His free hand flew to cover his squeezed shut eyes, gripping his forehead. “He kept asking be if I liked how it felt…I said I-I didn’t know so he kept going.” It tore her apart to see him struggling to speak the way he was. Tears of her own started to stream down her cheeks. “I worked up the courage to tell him to stop and he did. I tried to sleep on the couch in the other room but I woke up in his bed the next day. I don’t know if he…did anything, but the third night I was standing on the dock connected to the house. It was too dark for the neighbors to see anything. He came up to me again. He asked how I liked the night before again and I was too afraid to say anything so I didn’t. He did it again, but this time he pulled his out and…tried to get me to…t-touch it. I didn’t so he took my hand in his and…,” he took a deep breath “and he…u-used it to-”

“You don’t have to say it.”

He nodded

“I never finished…he did. I don’t remember the last day but I remember on the ride home, he said that if I told my mom….it would break her heart. And I didn’t want to break her heart-”

His sobs came out in soft, rapid beats but she was quick to pull him into her chest to soak her t-shirt. He buried his face in the crook of her neck and squeezed both arms around her torso while his cries shook the pair in silence. She didn’t say anything, simply wrapping her arms around his neck and planting kisses on his ears and shoulders.

“That wasn’t the only time, was it.” He weakly shook his head into her neck. “You don’t have to talk about it. You already did so great. You’re safe.” She continued to stroke his hair while his shaking began to plateau.

“You’re safe.”

~~~

The next morning was peaceful. Jimin woke up not feeling like shit like he’d expected. He actually felt….good. Given the bomb he dropped last night. But, she didn’t treat him any differently than she did the day before, and he was grateful.

She cooked for him while he showered, and they hung out having their regular old conversations like nothing happened. Although he noticed something. She was sober. It was nearing 6:00pm and he hadn’t seen or smelled weed since he barged in on her session. She stayed sober….for him. He didn’t like to admit it, but he enjoyed sober Y/N better. Granted, he still loved her any other day of the week, but he loved seeing her natural personality when she wasn’t in a dark place at the moment. And she didn’t seem to be now. Sober Y/N was smart. Sober Y/N gave great advice, and before she dropped him off at home, she left him with some.

Jimin typed in the code on the door and the lock clicked with a mechanical whir. Making sure not to make much noise, he shut the door behind him. He made his way upstairs and down the hall. Framed photos of him and Rose dotted the walls, and as time went by, their smiles were more and more forced. No one could tell but them. He eventually stopped in front of the door he was looking for. He softly knocked and he heard a muffled ‘come in.’ He opened the door to his mom’s room where she was sitting in bed, reading glasses on her nose, looking over the blueprints she’d drawn. She was an architect.

“Mom?”

“Yes?”

“Can I talk to you about something?”

Cover photos by @BIGHITTED on Twitter

#bts #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts angst #jimin #jimin x reader #jimin smut #bts smut

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crashingmeteorz · 4 years

Text

you’d better look out below

an au where tarrlok leaves the north pole with noatak.

title from arcade fire’s “wake up”. word count: 8k. read on ao3.

trigger warnings for: self-harm, child abuse (implied), violence

Tarrlok has asked about their mom four times already, and Noatak can tell by the way he stares off into the northern sky, he’s working up to a fifth.

“She’ll be fine,” snaps Noatak. Tarrlok’s eyes go wide as saucers, and Noatak pretends he can’t see the tears forming there.

“I didn’t say anything-“

“You were thinking it,” Noatak grunts, and the conversation stops abruptly. Tarrlok goes back to gazing out their boat.

It’s slow going, getting out of the north. They’ve been sailing for three days straight, and they can survive on the fish they catch and the salt water they purify, but that doesn’t stop them from going stir-crazy. Noatak would just bend them across the sea, but the noise attaracts the attention of tiger-sharks, and Tarrlok begged him to just rely on the waves and their oars. Noatak wonders darkly if this would have been easier on his own.

Tarrlok is company, at least, but he spends most of the journey worrying over their mother, or asking if they’re close to land. He’s hopeless at bending, compared to Noatak, and he eats a lot for such a scrawny kid. Lately, Noatak’s been fantasizing about pushing him overboard. It wouldn’t be fatal or anything, he’s a waterbender after all, it just might shut him up for longer than 10 minutes.

But Noatak lets the fantasy in, sits with it for a while, and then lets it out. He won’t be like their father anymore.

“She wouldn’t want us to be miserable, Tarrlok,” Noatak says as gently as he can. He doesn’t understand his brother’s concern for her - she never questioned their father’s influence, never wondered why her sons were always so miserable to train with him. But Tarrlok was always the softer one, he wouldn’t hurt a dragonfly even if it bit him on the nose.

“I just don’t want him to take it out on her,” Tarrlok says sadly. It’s certainly a possibility, without his sons to bully anymore. But Noatak’s doubtful.

“He won’t,” says Noatak confidently. “He has nothing to fight for anymore. He’ll just turn into the bitter old man he was always meant to be.”

For the first time all day, Tarrlok seems to relax. He takes off his glove and trails his fingers in the water absently, watching his wobbly reflection stare back at him from the sea. Noatak hunches over, shifting further down into his seat. Tarrlok still enjoys the little things, the feel of the water on his skin, the way the breeze ruffles his coat, the vision of white surrounding them. By the time he was Tarrlok’s age, most of that had been tainted.

It’s confusing, to feel both affection and envy for this quality his brother has. He wants to protect Tarrlok, he wants to be like Tarrlok, he wants Tarrlok out of his life. Noatak doesn’t know how much of his anger is his father, and how much is just him.

“Can we go to Kyoshi Island? I want to see the elephant koi,” says Tarrlok, oblivious as always.

“We’re going to the first port we see and moving inland,” is Noatak’s terse reply. Tarrlok nods sagely, seemingly satisfied. Then-

“So is the first port Kyoshi Island or...?”

“No, Tarrlok,” Noatak says through gritted teeth, “we are not going to Kyoshi Island.”

“Oh, okay,” says Tarrlok, disappointment written all over his face. Noatak can’t find the energy to care. “It’s just-“

“Enough,” says Noatak tersely. Tarrlok clamps his mouth shut. Noatak hates how ugly he sounds, how Tarrlok recoils. It’s a familiar sight, and it’s not one Noatak enjoys.

“I’m sorry,” Noatak says, trying not to sound as irritated as he feels. “I’m just sick of this boat. Things will be better when we reach dry land.”

“How are we gonna pay for stuff?” Noatak asks, immediately forgiving.

“We’ll sell the boat and go from there. If we need to live off the land for a while we can.”

Tarrlok looks backwards, in the direction of what used to be their home.

“I’m glad we left,” Tarrlok says honestly, and Noatak feels a sudden burst of joy. It’s the first time he’s expressed any relief about leaving. “But I think I’ll miss home.”

“One day, you’ll forget all about that place. Besides,” Noatak says, reaching over to clap his brother on the shoulder, “we’re together, Tarrlok. We’ll make a new home.”

It’s mid-afternoon on the fourth day when they spot land. Tarrlok had finally grown irritable as well, and they were liable to strangle each other when he excitedly pointed out the rocky shore.

They sail for another hour before finding a small fishing village where they can dock. Tarrlok had begged for them to just stop near the rocks and bend the water to bring them in safely, but Noatak had refused. They couldn’t risk damaging the boat, it was their only source of income at the moment.

The local fishermen eye the boat curiously. Being of watertribe origin, it’s sturdy and narrow, perfect for avoiding boulders among the rapids. Noatak informs them he won’t settle for less than 30 gold pieces. They laugh in his face.

“Gold pieces?” asks an elderly fisherman. “Boy, we use yuans here, or didn’t you know?”

“I’ll give you 30 yuans for it, how about that?” calls another to uproarious laughter. Noatak’s smart enough to figure out that’d be a robbery, so he grabs Tarrlok by the shoulder and stomps away.

“Where are we going?” asks Tarrlok, ducking his head to avoid the teasing sailors.

“Into the market. Well listen to the sales and try to figure out the going-rate of yuans,” Noatak explains, steering Tarrlok along the winding path.

“Couldn’t we just ask someone?” Tarrlok says in confusion.

“So they can scam us? I don’t think so.”

They spend almost an hour in the market. It takes them 20 minutes just to find items moderately close in value to their boat, and even that is a crapshoot. They end up listening to jewelers and one exotic pet salesman. Tarrlok beams at a sleeping jackalope.

“Isn’t he cold all the way up here?” Tarrlok asks the merchant.

“Oh, very,” says the man in a very sad, and very fake, voice. “Are you going somewhere warmer? Perhaps you could take him with you?”

“Noatak, can we?” Tarrlok asks excitedly. “You said we’re going somewhere warmer -“

“No,” Noatak says, eyeing the price on the jackalope’s cage - 50 yuans, almost a quarter of what he’s thinking of asking for their boat. “And he’s fine, Tarrlok. The desert freezes at night. I’m sure he’s used to it.”

The merchant gives Noatak a nasty look as he nods for Tarrlok to follow him back to the docks. Noatak doesn’t miss the way his brother hangs his head.

“Maybe we can find you a less expensive pet,” Noatak suggests.

“Sure,” Tarrlok says dejectedly. Okay. They might be able to splurge on the jackalope. Besides, it might keep Tarrlok’s attention off of him for a while.

When they get to where they tied the boat, there’s nothing there. Tarrlok isn’t really paying attention, and Noatak knows panicking won’t help, so he circles the docks. And then he does it again.

“You,” he says, shoving a finger at the old man from earlier. “What’d you do with our boat?”

“Tell you what,” says the old man as the sailors snicker, “give me 30 gold pieces, I’ll take you to it!” The fishermen’s laughter roars in his ears. Noatak grabs the front of the old man’s coat with both fists. The dock goes quiet.

“Tell me where my boat is,” Noatak seethes, “or I’ll turn you inside out.”

“Noatak!” shouts Tarrlok. Out of the corner of his eye, Noatak can see the advancing fishermen. He releases the old man, and the other men relax a little.

Then, almost inexplicably, the old man begins walking backwards, inching to the edge of the dock. His eyes bulge out of his skull. He opens his mouth, but no sounds come out. Everyone shouts in concern, yelling for him to stop.

“Noatak,” Tarrlok whispers, reaching out to hold his brother’s hand. When their fingers interlock, Noatak realizes his younger brother is shaking.

The old man stops suddenly, just before the edge of the platform, and falls to his knees. The other sailors run to him, asking him questions, suggesting a heart attack. Noatak and Tarrlok melt away, forgotten.

They sprint back to the marketplace, and Noatak pointedly does not mention the tears streaming down Tarrlok’s face. They round a corner and Noatak skids to a stop. He grabs Tarrlok and they hide in an alleyway, beside the exotic pet hawker.

“Don’t,” Tarrlok whispers.

“You want the jackalope or not?” Noatak asks him, trying to keep anger out of his voice. Tarrlok looks to the greasy merchant, to the animal far too big for its cage. He nods.

Noatak tries to be quick, not out of mercy, but out of a desire not to arouse suspicion. The merchant chokes out a protest, but is unable to stop himself from picking up the keys and unlocking the jackalope’s cage. He pokes at the thing, once, twice, and then the animal is awake and bounding out into the sunlight.

Tarrlok waits until it is about to pass their alleyway and reaches out, cuddling it. At first the jackalope struggles, scratching Tarrlok’s cheek with its antlers, and then it relaxes, nosing at Tarrlok’s chest.

“He smells the sea prunes,” Tarrlok says laughing. Noatak watches as the merchant gets his bearings back and starts looking around frantically.

“He can eat them later, let’s go,” Noatak grunts, and the two of them sprint out of the market, the animal seller none the wiser.

Later, when they make camp in a cave along the forested path, the jackalope is resting in Tarrlok’s lap and Tarrlok’s stroking its ears thoughtfully.

“What’s on your mind?” Noatak asks him, all venom gone. Even with their earlier failures, Noatak’s just relieved to be on solid ground.

“We could’ve been caught today,” Tarrlok tells him. “They would’ve arrested us.”

“No one can bloodbend in daylight except for dad, and everyone assumes he died over 15 years ago,” Noatak tells him. “You heard them, they thought the old man had a heart attack.”

“What about the merchant?”

“No one saw that, Tarrlok,” Noatak says tiredly, flopping down by the fire.

“Still, if they talk, they might put it together, it could come back to us-“

“Tarrlok, we’re not getting caught,” Noatak says firmly. Tarrlok frowns and goes back to petting the jackalope.

“That’s not all,” he says after a little while. “I shouldn’t have let you bloodbend that merchant. It wasn’t right.”

“He’s a lowlife scam artist, just like those sailors and he deserved-“

“You’ve never been bloodbent before, Noatak. How could you know that they deserved it?”

Noatak doesn’t really know what to say to that. Guilt pools in his belly and slithers it’s way up to his chest, wrapping around his heart.

“We’re starting over, right?” Tarrlok asks him after what feels like forever.

“Right,” Noatak agrees.

“Then no more bloodbending.”

“Tarrlok-“

“No more bloodbending, Noatak,” Tarrlok says severely, staring hard at his brother. “Or I leave.”

Then leave, hisses a nasty voice in Noatak’s head, but it’s practically drowned out by the rushing panic. Tarrlok can’t leave - Noatak is doing this, all of this for Tarrlok. He doesn’t know what he’s doing out here if his brother isn’t with him.

“Fine,” he relents. “We’re good enough waterbenders without it, anyway.”

Tarrlok smiles at him, and the ocean of fear in Noatak’s ears dulls to a trickle. It’s not ideal, but then maybe it’s for the best. Bloodbending, more than anything else, was his father’s most precious lesson. If he and Tarrlok abandoned it now, Yakone’s teachings would die with them.

“We’re really sticking it to dad, huh?” Tarrlok says as though he’s read Noatak’s mind, unable to keep the glee out of his voice.

“Yeah,” Noatak agrees grinning, “we are.”

They spend the entire next day walking. They happen upon a traveling fruit vendor and offer some water tribe delicacies in exchange for fresh apples and moon peaches. They get sticky from the juices, and Tarrlok’s jackalope licks his face clean.

“You’ll have to name the thing,” Noatak tells him, trying and failing not to smile at the two of them. He can’t remember the last time Tarrlok looked so happy.

“I’m thinking Jack,” Tarrlok says, lying flat on his back and allowing the animal to sit on his chest and lap at his cheeks.

“You’re not serious?” Noatak asks him incredulously. “That is the stupidest name I’ve ever heard.”

“Well, what’s your idea?” Tarrlok says, sitting suddenly. The jackalope squeaks indignantly, and then stretches up to resume its feast.

“What about Zhī?” he asks. Tarrlok laughs loudly.

“Perfect!” he says. “From now on, youre T - hey don’t lick inside my mouth you weirdo!”

They move on, traveling for almost a week. Noatak struggles to hunt without bloodbending, but together they manage to develop a system - Tarrlok frightens the animals in Noatak's direction, and then Noatak stuns them with a water whip. It's not fail-safe, but it gets them some meat, at least. One day they travel for almost 12 hours without food, only stopping to rest their feet, climbing winding hills until the sun is just beginning to set. At last they spot a large, walled-in structure sitting prettily at the bottom of a mountain. Tarrlok’s stomach growls.

“We’ll see if they’re willing to trade,” Noatak says, and they make their way to the front gates, only to find out the structure is an abbey. Both boys bow upon being welcomed in by the Mother Superior.

“Where are your parents?” asks one of the sisters, who offers them supper, much to the brothers’ relief.

“They passed away a month ago,” Noatak says quickly. It’s not a total lie - he and Tarrlok ran into the blizzard about a month ago, around the same time Noatak had decided his parents were dead to him. The nuns all make varying noises of distress, and Noatak arranges his face to look appropriately sad. Tarrlok just keeps chewing until his brother nudges him, and then he bows his head to hide his stuffed cheeks.

“There’s a large sanctuary south of here, but it’s quite the journey,” says the woman who fed them, Sister Meifen. “You two are welcome to stay here, until we can find you proper arrangements.”

“Thank you, but-“

“Is it okay if Zhī stays, too?” asks Tarrlok, picking up the jackalope and showing them all. The nuns titter at the animal, and reach out to pet the its fluffy ears.

Noatak isn’t sure how it happens, but before he knows it, he and Tarrlok have each been given a mat and linens for bed. They’re told the nuns wake early, so don’t expect to sleep in. Noatak doesn’t really know why it matters if they sleep in, because they’re not nuns, but he agrees anyway.

“Tarrlok, we can’t stay here,” Noatak whispers to his brother. “We’re not getting sent to any sanctuary.”

“Then what are we doing?” Tarrlok asks him.

“I don’t know, but I’ll be 18 soon, so I can be your guardian-“

“In four years!” hisses Tarrlok. Noatak shushes him.

“I look older than I am,” Noatak whispers. “We’ll get jobs somewhere, Omashu, maybe.”

“But that’s so far from here!” Tarrlok argues. Noatak rolls his eyes.

“How do you know that?” he asks his younger brother. “You don’t even know where Kyoshi Island is.” Tarrlok pouts.

“Sister Meifen said so,” Tarrlok says, sticking his tongue out. “What about Republic City? That’s just south of here-“

“We are not going there,” Noatak interrupts coldly. “Or did you forget where dad grew up?”

Tarrlok shuffles under his blanket. Zhī snorts a little and adjusts as Tarrlok moves.

“I didn’t think that would matter,” Tarrlok says in a small voice.

“Of course it matters,” Noatak says bitterly, even though he’s not exactly sure why. Then, with less heat, “We’ll find a place. A village or something."

Tarrlok doesn't say anything in response. Noatak waits him out

"But, in the meantime, we can stay here, okay?" Noatak says after a while, as a peace offering. "It's safe and they'll keep us fed. We'll just have to listen in, make sure they don't plan anything without telling us. I'll see if I can find some maps, maybe you can finally learn to read one, right Tarrlok? Tarrlok?"

Noatak nudges his brother lightly, but the younger boy only lets out a snore. Noatak sighs and settles into his mat. There are worse places to be in, and as mistrustful as he is, he doesn't really think a bunch of nuns will try to trick them.

He also thought their boat was safe in the fishing village. Suddenly, Noatak's wide awake. He scooches closer to Tarrlok. Their father never went into detail about his work in Republic City, but Noatak recalls a few stories of children going missing. The superstitious blamed it on spirits. Their father blamed it on interested buyers.

"What does that mean?" a much younger Tarrlok had asked. Yakone only let out a dark laugh. If Noatak's certain of anything on this journey, he's certain he'll do anything to protect Tarrlok, and he doesn't care who he has to hurt to do it, nuns included.

Noatak doesn't remember falling asleep, but the next thing he knows he's being shaken awake.

"What is it, what's wrong?" he barks, sitting straight up. Tarrlok is squatting in front of him with a sleepy smile and messy hair. At least someone slept well.

"Nothing," Tarrlok says happily. "But Mother Superior says we need to earn our keep, whatever that means."

"It means she's putting us to work," Noatak grumbles, motioning for Tarrlok to turn so he can fix his hair. He begins to affix the usual pair of ponytails, and then stops himself.

"Wanna try a different style?" Noatak asks.

"I don't know," says Tarrlok. "I always wear it this way."

"What about something more traditional, like the chief wears?" suggests Noatak. Tarrlok hesitates a moment too long, and Noatak begins to part his hair in disappointment.

"Sure," Tarrlok says suddenly. "Let's try it." Noatak grins. He combs Tarrlok's hair and gathers a section of it up in the center of his head, pulling it into a ponytail, making sure to include side pieces so that it stays out of the boy's face.

"You missed a piece," Tarrlok singsongs, picking up a chunk of hair by his right ear and waving it with his fingers.

"Not necessarily." Noatak makes a small braid out of the hanging piece, leaves the end free, and then affixes the beads they usually use on Noatak's two low-hanging ponytails. He ties the braid.

"Aren't these for warriors?" Tarrlok asks him hesitantly, taking the braid between his fingers.

"They signify battles won," Noatak says. He does not elaborate any further. "Leave it. It suits you."

He fixes his own hair, and then they're off to report to Sister Meifen.

The nun is delighted when they tell her they're waterbenders. She shows them the perfumes the nuns make here at the abbey, as well as the scented soaps and bath products. She asks them if they'd be willing to help her separate the vats of solution into smaller vials. She explains that they sell their products as a means of fundraising for the abbey, and that excess sales go to the less fortunate.

"Did you know," Sister Meifen says almost smugly, "that the great Chief Katara once stayed here? She, Councilman Sokka, and Avatar Aang used this abbey as a resting place during the avatar's preparation to fight the Firelord."

"How interesting," Noatak says evenly, exchanging an awkward look with Tarrlok. They'd certainly heard a lot about Chief Katara and the others, though none of it as reverential as Sister Meifen might think.

"Who knows?" says the nun, raising her eyesbrows playfully at them. "Maybe you two will prove just as talented as her."

Noatak doesn't really know how he manages not to roll his eyes. The effort almost gives him a headache.

It's easy work, more precision than anything else, which Tarrlok has always struggled with. After his third spill, he curses and balls his fist.

"Careful," mutters Noatak, effortlessly dividing the perfume up into 10 different vials. "I don't think they'd like your language."

"I don't get it," Tarrlok groans. His cheeks redden with frustration. "This is easy. Why can't I do it?"

"You haven't had to bend in a while. Take a break."

Tarrlok doesn't seem satisfied, squeezing his nails into his palms, straightening his hands out to stretch his fingers, and then repeating the process. Noatak glances over to his brother and realizes Tarrlok's palms are red and raw. He stops his work.

"Tarrlok," he says in what he hopes is a calming voice. It still comes out nastier than he'd like.

"What?" his brother snaps, fingers still curling in and out, in and out. Noatak reaches for his hand. Tarrlok freezes, and looks down in confusion.

"We'll work on your control another time," Noatak tells him, and it comes out too sharp. He loosens his grip on Tarrlok's hand significantly, speaks in almost a whisper. "Let's see if we can find a different job for you."

"What's the point?" Tarrlok asks, voice tight. "I'll just screw it up."

"Dad's not here, Tarrlok," Noatak tells him sternly, making sure not to let his hand squeeze. "Don't let him get to you from across the ocean."

Tarrlok nods, though he's clearly still upset. They find the sisters feeding Zhī bits of whatever it is they're preparing for lunch. Fortunately the jackalope has a sense of loyalty, and bounds over to Tarrlok the moment he spots him, leaping into the boy's arms. Tarrlok brightens considerably.

"Tarrlok hurt his wrist the other day," Noatak says easily. Tarrlok side-eyes him, and then lets his right wrist hang limp atop Zhī. "I can continue filling the vials, but it irritates his hand. Is there somewhere else he can help?"

Fortunately the nuns seem to see Tarrlok as a little darling, and are more than happy to give him a less intensive job.

"But for now," Sister Meifen tells them, "you've earned a break. It's lunchtime."

They stay at the abbey for one week, and then two. Tarrlok follows Sister Meifen around like a loyal dog, and Noatak successfully bites his tonuge. Tarrlok's obviously latching on to the first kind woman he meets, but he's happy, and he's not bringing up their mother as much, so Noatak leaves it.

The nuns aren't quite as fond of Noatak, which is no surprise. Boys stop being cute once they start to look like men, and Tarrlok has enough baby fat left to get his cheeks pinched by older women with no sense of personal boundaries. It probably doesn't help that Noatak watches Tarrlok like a hawk, often pausing his work when he hasn't heard Zhī’s surprisingly loud squeaks or the sound of Tarrlok's laughter. The latter is almost a shoddy indicator - he's not used to hearing it so often, but he's warming up to the sound.

In any event, Noatak gets his work done in record time each day, and when he finishes he offers to assist in other areas. It's not exactly a deep relationship, but the nuns are grateful for his willingness to work. They always give him extra helpings at meals. One evening he notices Tarrlok staring into his cleared plate, so he offers some of his own food. Tarrlok greedily accepts.

"Tarrlok, why didn't you just say you were still hungry?" Mother Superior gently scolds him. Tarrlok freezes like a deer in headlights.

"I, I'm sorry-"

"You should have offered him more food," Noatak says sharply. The table goes quiet.

"It's my fault, Mother Superior," Sister Meifen says. "I always give Tarrlok snacks during the day, but today we were so busy scent-testing we didn’t stop for anything. I should have told him he could ask for seconds."

The sister and Mother Superior exchange a look that Noatak doesn't understand, but they seem to come to some sort of agreement, and dinner resumes. Tarrlok blushes furiously, leaving the food untouched until Noatak nudges him.

"Eat," Noatak says. "Also, when were you going to share your snacks, huh?"

Tarrlok grins sheepishly, and finishes his dinner.

In the evenings before bed, they practice waterbending. Noatak recalls what his father would say, how he would react, and tries to do the opposite of that. He finds himself getting frustrated easily when Tarrlok messes up, but he keeps the anger from seeping out into his tone. He overcompensates when Tarrlok gets it right, complimenting him profusely. It feels fake, but Tarrlok's smile is genuine, so he keeps at it.

By their third week, Tarrlok joins him at the perfume. He's thinking too hard about it, hyping it up too much. He waltzes up to the ceramic pots like they're a pack of wolves ready to strike. When he first goes to divide up the liquid, he spills it all on the stones.

"Breathe," Noatak tells him in a calm voice, clamping down on the part of him that's laughing viciously. "It's just perfume, Tarrlok. You can do this in your sleep."

Tarrlok nods, too seriously, but does as Noatak says, takes a deep calming breath, and bends the perfume perfectly. Noatak smiles broadly, telling Tarrlok he did great, and it feels genuine this time.

They get through all of the vials without a single mess. It takes almost as long as when Noatak worked alone, due to Tarrlok's cautious approach, but when they finish Tarrlok's beaming with pride. Sister Meifen takes his face in her hands and congratulates him on his improvement.

"Noatak's a great teacher," he says happily. Sister Meifen nods almost gratefully at Noatak. He doesn't nod back. She's been acting like she's Tarrlok's mother, like Noatak’s some wayward stranger who took this precious kid under his wing. Everything about this place makes Noatak feel like he's a transient and Tarrlok's their newest resident.

He's antsy to leave.

The nuns get antsy as well, towards the end of their third week there. He'd noticed them cleaning with more vigor, returning from the market with a variety of fruits, vegetables, and, to Tarrlok's delight, sweets. They're all whispering to each other hurriedly, but when Noatak gets near, they quiet at once and go about their day. It's infuriating.

"You need to try and find out what's going on around here," Noatak mutters to Tarrlok while they're dividing up the perfumes. "Don't make it obvious, but see what you can find out from Sister Meifen."

"She said something about a party yesterday," Tarrlok says nonchalantly. "It's probably that."

Noatak freezes his motions and nearly drops the liquid. He sends the perfume shooting down so viciously into the vials that they shatter. Tarrlok stops what he's doing, surprised.

"It's a going-away party." Noatak feels his whole body shaking with anger. He can only think of one reason the nuns would keep this from him, wouldn’t just tell them they've found a suitable sanctuary.

They're going to separate Noatak from Tarrlok.

Well, they're going to try. They'll have to kill him first, and somehow he doesn't think these nuns have it in them.

"Noatak?" Tarrlok asks, but Noatak doesn't hear him. His ears are ringing too loud.

"Finish this...crap," Noatak spits out, stalking away to find Mother Superior. A thousand scenarios run through his head, each more violent than the last. Several of them involve bloodbending Sister Meifen off a cliff.

When he gets inside, he hears male voices, and it's all the confirmation he needs.

"It's truly an honor to host you-" Mother Superior is saying when Noatak rips open the curtain and reveals-

The Avatar. The literal Avatar. Avatar Aang is talking to Mother Superior. There's another man with him, much younger and with skin closer to Noatak's, but wearing the same air nomad robes and sharing the same surprised expression.

"Noatak!" Mother Superior starts in surprise, eyebrows drawn together sternly. She's too startled by his sudden appearance to say much else. Noatak shakes his head and gathers himself, remembering his resolve.

"Are you going to take me away?" he asks The Actual Real Life Avatar, pointing an accusatory finger in his face. Mother Superior looks scandalized. The Avatar just looks amused.

"I don't think so," Avatar Aang, THE Avatar Aang says slowly. "Did you want me to take you away?"

"No." Noatak lowers his finger slowly as realization hits him. The nuns are throwing a party. The Avatar is here. The Avatar doesn't know who he is.

"The party's for you," Noatak says, thinking out loud and feeling incredibly stupid.

"A party?" asks the legendary, bridge-between-the-worlds, bringer-of-peace Avatar, clapping his hands in delight.

"Well, yes, of a kind, but, Noatak!" says Mother Superior. "What in the world are you doing, bursting in here like this? And accosting Avatar Aang like that, it's the height of disrespect-"

"Please, Mother Superior," the very-much real Avatar says with what can only be described as a goofy grin on his face, "I barely respect myself. It seems like there may have been a miscommunication." He gestures to Noatak, and Noatak realizes he's being asked to speak.

"I thought you were throwing a going-away party," he tells Mother Superior with as much dignity as he can muster, "for me. I thought you were separating Tarrlok and I."

As an afterthought, he bows to the Avatar. Mother Superior walks over to Noatak, and he absolutely refuses to back away despite his screaming instincts. To his surprise, she cups his cheek in her hand.

"Dear boy," the Mother Superior says in the softest voice he's ever heard her use, "I would never separate you from your brother. Frankly, we'd keep you both all to ourselves, but it's not right to deprive children the opportunity for a loving family out of selfishness."

Noatak allows himself to lean into the older woman's warm touch, for just the barest of seconds. He uses it to ground himself. The nun's confession is overwhelming, to say the least.

Then he stands straight and bows deeply to her, far deeper and far longer than he did for the living-legend Avatar.

"I apologize, Mother Superior," Noatak says sincerely, gravely. "I misread the situation. I did not mean to embarass you." She smiles at him a moment longer, and then turns back to her usual severe self.

"Go get your brother and wash up. We have guests."

Noatak's too relieved to notice the curious look Avatar Aang gives him as he turns on his heel to go find Tarrlok.

"Do you think he's hear to arrest us?" Tarrlok asks for what feels like the millionth time as Noatak brushes his hair. The nuns have prepared a luncheon feast, and it seems all work activities for the day have been cancelled.

"No, Tarrlok," Noatak says tiredly. He doesn't have the strength for his usual annoyance. The day's earlier panic knocked him out. "He didn't even know who I was."

"What if he was just pretending?" Tarrlok presses.

"He's the Avatar," Noatak reminds him, placing the beads at the end of Tarrlok's braid - he's been wearing his hair this way since Noatak first suggested it. "He took dad's bending away. He doesn't need to pretend."

"I can't believe you talked to him," Tarrlok gushes, switching tones with lightning speed. Noatak doesn't know how he does it. "What was he like?"

Noatak had, smartly, in his opinion, left out a few key details of his encounter with the Avatar.

"Fine," Noatak says in a bored voice as he brushes his own hair. Tarrlok rolls his eyes, dissatisfied.

"Nice," Noatak adds. "Dopey."

"Dopey?" Tarrlok repeats. "He's the Avatar! How could he be dopey?"

"Ask him yourself," Noatak suggests, standing once his own ponytail's secure. Tarrlok follows suit and they head into the dining hall.

"I'm not asking the Avatar if he's dopey," Tarrlok mutters under his breath. Noatak grins.

They dine on fruits and nuts, and then they are served sweet buns and bean curry. There's no meat, presumably since the Avatar and his company are vegetarians, but it's very filling. Tarrlok can't get enough of it. They nuns have pushed away the tables and set up mats like the ones Noatak and Tarrlok have been sleeping on. It's the most casual Noatak's ever seen the abbey. He and Tarrlok find a pair of corner mats and keep to themselves.

"May we join you?" says a deep, friendly voice. Tarrlok's jaw drops, and so does the dumpling he was holding. Avatar Aang and the younger man he was with are standing above them. The Avatar is smiling broadly, the other man looks like he's trying to smile, but it's something akin to a grimace. Noatak very badly wants to say no, but after his earlier display, he owes it to the nuns to be polite.

"It would be our honor," he answers, bowing his head. Tarrlok swallows whatever was in his mouth and bows as well. The Avatar and his companion settle beside them.

"We were never properly introduced," he says kindly, looking between the brothers. "I'm Aang, and this is my son, Tenzin."

Tenzin bows his head.

"Noatak," he says, pointing to himself, "and Tarrlok."

"I wanted to say I'm terribly sorry about your parents," Avatar Aang says seriously, and Tarrlok freezes again. "When Mother Superior told me how recently you lost them, my heart broke for you."

Noatak doesn't think Tarrlok could sigh any louder. Fortunately, the Avatar seems to take it as a display of sadness.

"Thank you," Noatak says politely. "We'll be alright, as long as we have each other."

Avatar Aang smiles sadly at him.

"I'm glad to hear it," he says, and in spite of his misgivings, Noatak is inclined to believe him. Their father had always spoken of the Avatar's weakness, his bleeding heart. Noatak eventually took that to mean that Avatar Aang possessed compassion, which Yakone was sorely unfamilar with.

"I'm going to sound like everyone's grandpa," the Avatar continues, looking at an absolutely starstruck Tarrlok, "but when I was your age, my friends were all the family I had. I know how important it is to have someone you can rely on."

Noatak realizes with a start he's talking about Chief Katara and the other important people his father despised. For some reason Noatak still feels a pang of anger for Chief Katara, mixed in somewhere with his anger for Yakone. Misplaced loyalty, maybe? He's not sure.

"What brought you to the abbey?" Tarrlok asks curiously.

"I thought it would be nice to visit the sisters, their abbey’s on the way home from the Southern Air Temple. You see, it was time for Tenzin here to select an air bison," Aang says proudly, clapping his son on the shoulder. "Traditionally air nomads choose their bisons during childhood, but we needed to ensure the herd was healthy and happy before separating them. Tell them his name!"

Tenzin blushes furiously, which Noatak finds pretty funny considering he's a grown-man.

"Oogi," he says quietly, but the man's baritone reverberates whether he wants it to or not. Noatak can't help it. He barks out a laugh, and quickly attempts to cover it up with a cough.

"That's great!" Tarrlok says sincerely. He whistles, and his jackalope comes careening towards them. Noatak's not sure when he tought him that trick. Tarrlok holds the animal up proudly, and Noatak notes it's getting a little heavy in the middle. "This is Zhī!"

"Hello, Zhī," Aang beams, reaching out to the jackalope and offering it a carrot. Zhī sniffs at the vegetable, and then leaps a little too excitedly, landing on Aang's head. Noatak and Tarrlok gasp in horror. The Avatar and Tenzin laugh.

"I'm great with animals," Aang chuckles, extracting Zhī and setting him in his lap while the jackrabbit munches on the carrot. Tarrlok, for his part, is ecstatic about this turn of events and chats happily with Aang and Tenzin, trading animal stories. The Avatar mentions his lemur, Momo, who apparently resides on Air Temple Island for the most part. Tarrlok asks them if they've ever encountered another jackalope in their travels.

"They're usually found in the Ba Sing Se Desert," Tenzin muses. "This one's pretty far from home. Where did you happen to find him?"

Tarrlok glances at Noatak nervously.

"We met it in the fishing village north of here," Noatak says, smooth as anything, "there was an exotic animal merchant there, and he accidentally let some of the animals out. We would have brought him back, but Zhī didn't seem to be very well cared for."

Tenzin nods, smiling at little at him, apparently satisfied with the explanation. Aang squints a little, his calm expression never faltering. Noatak stares back at the Avatar with what he hopes is a neutral expression. He also hopes Tarrlok is smart enough to keep his head down.

"Well, I can't fault you," Aang says lightly. "I'm an animal-lover myself, after all. I hate the thought of them feeling uncomfortable. It's why we left the bisons a little south of here, Oogi isn't great with small spaces just yet."

"They're here?" Tarrlok asks in wonder. Aang smiles warmly at him.

"Would you like to meet them? After dessert, of course."

Tarrlok again looks to Noatak, who glares at his younger brother. Why would the Avatar offer them such a thing? He's certain Aang doesn't know they're Yakone's sons, but he doesn't know what the endgame is here. What reason would the Avatar have to introduce a pair of orphans to his precious air bisons?

"Sure," Noatak says after mulling it over. He'll just have to stay on his guard. If he and Tarrlok need to make a daring escape, well, it's about time they move along, anyway.

Tarrlok tears through his fruit tarts like a rabid platypus-bear, except sloppier. Aang and Tenzin leave to sit with the nuns, and Noatak hears them expressing gratitude for the traditional air nomad meals. Noatak had always beleived that the monks ate very little, refusing indulgences. But while Tenzin appears more reserved, Avatar Aang digs into his deserts almost as heartily as Tarrlok. He's nothing like Noatak would expect. He's just kind of...

Dopey.

"I can't believe we're eating with the Avatar," Tarrlok says through a moutful of macaroons. Then, lowering his voice to a whisper he says, "Imagine the look on dad's face."

Noatak silences him with a glare.

It's late afternoon when the Avatar and his son finally stop chatting with the nuns and suggest they go meet Appa and Oogi. Noatak fills his waterskin up, just in case. He's not idiotic enough to think he could win against the Avatar in a fight, but he's sure he could create enough of a diversion to buy them time to escape.

They follow the winding path to a wooded area, and Aang cups his hands around his mouth.

"Appa!" he calls in a singsong. "Appa! Oogi! Where are you?" In response, something among the trees lets out a loud groan. Aang, at nearly 60 years old, takes off at a run towards the bison.

"Dad!" Tenzin shouts, running after him. Noatak and Tarrlok glance at each other, and then they're following suit. They tear through the brush and leaves, Tarrlok giggling all the while, Zhī being jostled under the boy's arm. Noatak hears the groan again and turns a sharp corner, barely managing to grab Tarrlok by the elbow so that he doesn't go sprinting off in the wrong direction. At last they crash through a clearing, and are greeted by the sight of two grown-men cuddling up to a pair of enrmormous furry creatures.

"Wow," Tarrlok breathes, and Noatak can't help but feel the same sense of awe. The bisons are huge, bigger than they could have ever imagined. The biggest creatures up north are the yaks, and they don't hold a candle to Appa and Oogi. And the bisons are, for lack of a better term, adorable - fluffy and incredibly affectionate, if the way they respond to their masters' attention is any indication.

"Come meet them!" Aang calls, waving them over. Tarrlok doesn't hesitate, he runs over to Oogi, the closest one, and immediately begins petting the bison's face. Zhī struggles free of Tarrlok's hold and begins sniffing at Oogi's feet. Noatak is more cautious, approaching Appa slowly. He's never loved animals the way Tarrlok does, but he's more than happy to get a closer look at the unusual beast.

"He won't bite," Aang says gently after Noatak just stands in front of Appa for a few minutes, staring. Noatak still doesn't really care to pet the animal, but he can tell how highly the Avatar regards Appa, and he doesn't want to insult him. Steadying himself, Noatak reaches out to gingerly presse his hand to the bison's wet nose. Noatak holds his breath. Then, Appa leans into the touch, letting out a low snort.

Something both foreign and familiar washes over Noatak. It's not an emotion he can identify, but it feels warm.

He and Tarrlok spend the next few hours playing with the bison. Appa is far older than Oogi, evident by the slow way he moves and the gray around his eyes, but Noatak is more than happy to sit by the bison's belly and rest in his fur. Avatar Aang sits beside him. Oogi is excitable, jumping around the clearing with Tarrlok, and eventually Tenzin, once he loosens up. The airbenders tell them all about the bisons, how they can fly long distances without growing tired, how they can carry whole families on their backs, how they're inherently gentle creatures.

"Oogi came from the Northern Air Temple," Aang explains proudly. "An old friend of mine, Teo, he's been helping to repopulate them up there. He designed Oogi's saddle, actually."

They talk for hours, the sun going lower and lower, and Noatak grows tired, comfortable in the softness of Appa's fur. Even Tarrlok and Oogi tire eventually, flopping down among the leaves.

"It's getting late," Tenzin says, producing some snacks for Appa and Oogi as he speaks. "We should head back to the abbey for the evening." Aang nods, and, in the first display of airbending Noatak's seen yet, the Avatar breezes effortlessly into a standing position. He offers Noatak his hand. Noatak eyes him suspiciously, and then, letting exhaustion win, allows himself to be pulled up.

The journey back to the abbey feels far longer than the first time. When they arrive, Tarrlok is swept up into a loving hug by Sister Meifen, and she even reaches out to hug Noatak as well, although he doesn't reciprocate. Noatak doesn't know why she's being so affectionate, they were only gone for a few hours.

When he and Tarrlok find their sleeping quarters, they both fall asleep the moment they lay down.

In the morning they're roused by Mother Superior.

"Get dressed, you two," she says. "The Avatar would like to speak with you."

"Couldn't he speak with us after sunrise?" Tarrlok whines, rubbing at his eyes. Noatak puts himself together quickly, a ball of nerves. He's not sure why Aang has taken such an interest in them, but he was under the impression the Avatar would be leaving today. They already saw the bison, what else is there to do?

When Noatak and Tarrlok trudge over to Aang, Tarrlok's still half asleep. He's tied his coat around his waist and has Zhī sleeping in the hood. Both the Avatar and his son are meditating. Aang peeks an eye open as he hears their footsteps approach.

"Ah!" he says, motioning them over. They sit cross-legged in front of him, and Tarrlok practically sits on Zhī who squeaks and trudges into the boy's lap. "I'm sorry about the early wake-up call, but Tenzin and I are leaving soon, and I wanted to discuss something with you both. Well, you three."

"Is everything alright?" Noatak asks in as relaxed a voice as he can muster. Aang smiles warmly at him.

"Yes, Noatak, everything's fine. You aren't in trouble," Aang says. Noatak feels his heart slow down, lets his facial features relax.

"I told you last night I was devastated to hear about what happened to you," Aang explains. "Mother Superior told me how you're both talented waterbenders. I immediately felt like our meeting was more than luck - like we were all meant to be here in this place, at this time."

"I am fortunate enough to be married to the Chief of the Southern Water Tribe, and, in my biased opinion, one of the greatest waterbenders the world has ever known. Although I'm sure I'm not alone in saying so," Aang adds, winking.

"What I'm trying to say is - if the two of you are looking for a more permanent home, I would be honored if you would return to the Southern Water Tribe with me."

Noatak's mouth flies open, but no words come out. Tarrlok's eyes are practically bursting out of his head. Zhī, oblivious, sighs sleepily.

"Like...to live with you?" is all Noatak can manage. Tenzin chuckles. Aang inclines his head.

"If you'd like," the Avatar says, voice light but sincere.

"But you're the Avatar," Tarrlok says in confusion. Aang laughs, throwing an arm around his son.

"I'm also a father to three incredible young people, if I do say so myself," he says merrily. He retracts his arm and looks seriously between Noatak and Tarrlok. "You're under no obligation to come with me. If it's not what you want, I completely understand."

"How do you know Chief Katara won't mind?" Noatak asks him suspiciously. Aang smiles, his eyes lighting up with adoration.

"If you knew my mother," Tenzin tells them, "you wouldn't even be asking that question. Helping people is her passion."

Every fiber of Noatak's body is screaming in protest, telling him to grab Tarrlok and run for the sea, to run far away from these men and their promises. But he's planted in place, rooted by disbelief and confusion, and, worst of all, hope. It seems too good to be true. But then, if it is true, there's no where safer for him and Tarrlok from their father than the other side of the world, among the people Yakone hates most.

"May I speak with my brother?" Noatak asks. Aang inclines his head again, and he and Tarrlok step out into a hallway, leaving Zhī in the airbenders’ care.

"I think we should go with them," Tarrlok says the moment they're out of earshot. Noatak grimaces.

"I think we should discuss it," Noatak says irritably. "We can't just go with them-"

"What, like we just left the North Pole?" Tarrlok hisses. "He's the Avatar, he won't hurt us."

Noatak bites his tongue, refusing to let spill all the angry words about how parents aren't supposed to hurt you, either. Now's not the time for that discussion.

"Tarrlok," he says, trying desperately to convey severity. Thankfully, Tarrlok closes his mouth and listens. "If we do this, that's it. We live in the South Pole from now on. We listen to Avatar Aang and Chief Katara. We're Noatak and Tarrlok, the tragic boys who lost their parents. We give up our freedom."

"I don't think we're giving up our freedom," Noatak says, looking back towards the room where they left Aang. "Aang - the Avatar, he seems like he loves freedom. I just think we'd be safe."

Noatak looks back towards the room as well. They could say no, grab Zhī, and head southeast, towards Ba Sing Se. They'd make it, he's sure, living off scraps, resting their heads somewhere new each month, doing odd jobs. They could survive like that for a few years, until Noatak found a decent job. But would they be happy?

Noatak can practically feel Appa's soft fur under his hands. He can hear Tarrlok's hysterical laughter as Oogi and Zhī licked him mercilessly.

"Okay," Noatak says to Aang, once they've reentered the room. "We'll go with you."

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sweet-baby-abdl · 3 years

Text

Who's the Baby?

Author: Horatio Husky

Contains: Sissification, ABDL, Fantasy, Mind-altering

Chapter 1.

Babysitting

Scrolling through his Instagram feed was the only thing that kept Phillip's mind from brooding over the fact that today was probably not going to be as entertaining as his friends who were showing off on social media.

He looked up glumly to see the houses passing by as the car he sat in rumbled along the suburban streets, heading straight towards his aunt's house for a day of babysitting.

His mother had lightly scolded him before they had sat down in the car, chastising him for protesting in helping her sister out even after she said she would pay him well.

Fifty bucks for a whole afternoon of fun with my baby cousin... Hurray... the teenager thought to himself sarcastically, as the car made a left turn onto the street where his aunt lived.

"Oh don't look so grumpy Phil, this is the kind of stuff you can put down as work experience. Taking care of little kids is a more important job than you might think, plus it'll teach you some patience! You're getting paid too so remember to thank Aunt Becky, okay?"

"Yes Mom..." came the tired response as he rolled his eyes, adding a tally to the count of how many times his mother reminded him to thank his aunt. Counting this one, the amount was now at five.

"And don't forget, Penny is still really little so no rough-housing or horseplay, do you understand the young man?"

Yes, Mom!" came a more exasperated reply from Phillip. Of course, he knew not to play roughly with a little girl, he might have been a grumpy teenager from time to time but he was never mean or unfair.

No, Phillip wasn't worried that he wouldn't know how to properly play with a little girl, in fact, he could imagine pretty clearly what games she would probably be interested in playing. He was more concerned over the fact that he would probably be bored out of his mind the entire time.

Thankfully he had slipped some of his advanced math assignments into his backpack, he was sure he'd be able to find a spare hour or two while his cousin preoccupied herself to at least get ahead on a little homework.

As the minivan pulled into his aunt's driveway he groaned internally, seeing the mess of children's toys spread across the front lawn which he knew extended into the house.

His aunt always believed that a child's environment shouldn't be too constricted or organized to allow them to use their creativity to their fullest. Philip just interpreted this as a lame excuse to not have to clean up after Penny's famous 'playtime adventures' she always subjected her babysitters to.

Opening the door and shouldering his backpack, he hopped out of his car and waved at his mom as she pulled out of the driveway, making it pretty obvious that she was not in the mood to interact with her sister either.

Real encouraging Mom... he thought to himself, as he watched his mom wave cheerily back as she slowly accelerated down the street, taking a right and vanishing from his sight.

Mentally preparing himself, he turned around on his heels and walked up to the front door, ringing the doorbell twice.

"PHILLY!" came a muffled scream from behind the door, which he knew belonged to his baby cousin. She was six years old now, but everyone still referred to her as the baby cousin of the family, as she was the youngest.

He heard the doorknob jiggle as the door sprung open and Penny looked up at him with a wide smile across her face, leaning back she yelled into the house.

"Mommy Philly is here! Philly is here!"

"Come on in Phillip! I'm baking cookies!

Penny grabbed his hand, practically pulling him inside of the house as she leaned over and pulled the door shut with more a little more force than was probably necessary. Feeling grateful that at least her hand wasn't sticky, Phil allowed himself to be pulled along down the hallway and into the kitchen.

His aunt Becky greeted him with a smile that went up to her eyes, looked up from the tray of cookies she was just pulling out of the oven.

"Hi there sweetie, come here and try one while they're still hot and gooey!"

Phillip couldn't help but smile, sure his aunt was a little be eccentric compared to his own family but she did now how to make somebody's day. He and Penny walked over, Phil grabbing a cookie gingerly and blowing on it before taking a small bite.

Delicious, as always. Aunt Becky beamed as she saw her nephew enjoying her baking, clucking her tongue with amusement as she walked over to the dough she was kneading.

"As your grandma always said, the best way to get to a man's heart is through his stomach. Why don't you two grab an extra cookie and mosey on over to the living room, hmm?"

Philip did not need to be prodded twice, eagerly he snatched up another cookie before finishing his first one and walked over to the living room, unshouldering his backpack and letting it drop softly onto the ground.

Becky followed suit, plopping herself down right next to him on the couch as he rummaged through his backpack, having placed the cookies in his mouth to free both of his hands.

Having yet to master the concept of personal space, at least according to Philip, his cousin scooched over on the couch until she was practically pressing up against him, looking curious as to what he was going to bring out of his backpack.

"Oh oh! Did you bring any toys? Or coloring books? Or movies? What's in the bag, Philly?"

Feeling slightly annoyed at his cousin's incessant questions, he responded with a dry, "Nope, homework!"

A thick, red colored textbook labeled, "Calculus Based Physics for the Advanced" along with a calculator, a few pencils, and an eraser tumbled out of his backpack.

Penny wore an almost sour expression, and her nose turned up slightly as she exclaimed, "Ewwww, you brought homework? That's like, the opposite of fun."

Phillip rolled his eyes, he obviously could not expect his baby cousin to understand his love with problem-solving and his enjoyment of mathematics. Still, he rolled his eyes at her disgust.

"Math can be fun Penny, it is fun for me because I've become pretty good at it."

A half grin formed on his face as suddenly he opened the book to a random page, swiftly shoving it towards Penny's face and exclaiming, "Ooohhhh scary math book!"

She screamed in response, tumbling off of the couch with a giddy smile on her face as she ran away from him and out of the living room, presumably to take refuge in her room.

Phillip rolled his eyes once more and took a sizable bite out of one of the cookies as he opened his notebook up, his mind already returning to the problem that he had last been trying to work through.

Just as he felt he had just figured out an effective strategy, he felt something impact the back of the couch and his vision was filled with pink fur.

"Bunny says hello Philly!"

Annoyed, Phillip pulled the large, pink bunny stuffie that his cousin had draped over his head off of him, looking over at her sideways to indicate that he was not amused with her distractions.

Just as he was about to open his mouth to express his perturbance, Aunt Becky bustled into the room with her coat on and a handbag slung over her shoulder.

"Alright darlings! I'm going to be heading out to run a few errands and to see some friends, I'll see you all later this evening! Behave now!"

With that, she walked out of the house and closed the door behind her with a soft click.

Penny turned her eyes over to Phillip, the sparkle in them practically shining out of them as she exclaimed.

"Let's play pretend!"

Phillip shook his head, nodding towards the unsolved math problems he still had to complete.

"I need to get these done, I want to get ahead on my homework this week."

"Pleeeeeeaaaaase? Pretty pretty pleeeaaaase?"

Her bottom lip quivered, and for a second Phillip was concerned that she would actually start crying. That is until he remembered that she seemed to have developed a special talent for crocodile tears.

"No, Penny. I need to work, go find something to play with by yourself."

"Aww come on! You're no fun! I'll tell your Mom that you didn't give me any attention at all if you don't play with me!"

Phillip realized that maybe his little cousin was a little bit more advanced than he imagined, for he did not want Penny to complain to his Mom about how bad a job he did. After all, he did promise that he would look after Penny.

Moving slowly and lethargically, as to indicate that he was not doing this willingly and only because she would not stop nagging, he put away his maths homework while Penny jumped up and down excitedly.

"Fine, we can play a little bit but only for a little bit, I do need to finish this homework today. Does that sound fair?"

"Okay! Okay! That sounds good to me! Let's play house! Let's play house!"

At this she jumped off the back of the couch and started running around it in circles, skipping from foot to foot as she began to sing excitedly.

"I'm gonna be the babysitter! And you're gonna be the babysat!"

Phil rolled his eyes, of course his baby cousin would choose the least fun option for him. He had a feeling that most people his age, even those who despised math, would choose it over a game like this. Then again, he did have a pretty big bias.

"Fine, I'll be the baby. But only for a little bit, understand?"

Penny seemed to not register his indignation as she dashed out of the living room, yelling behind her.

"I'll grab all the props! You sit tight baby!"

I can't believe I actually agreed to do this... I have to pretend to be a baby to a six-year-old? This sure isn't something I'm going to be sharing at lunch tomorrow...

He sat on the couch glibly, resting his chin on his hand as he waited for her to come back. Within a minute he heard her footsteps coming back down the hallway, and saw that she held in her arms an overwhelming amount of pink, frilly clothes and other accessories.

Phil watched as she practically collapsed onto the soft carpeting in front of the couch, dropping all of the things she had gathered onto the floor.

With his eyebrow raised, he saw Penny resurface from the pile of play clothes and baby props she had gotten, and pull out a pink dress with white ruffles on the shoulders and around the waist that looked to be just around her size.

Phil noted the skirt was covered with frills and pink ruffles, almost to a ridiculous extent. He wondered where his aunt had even found such a thing, perhaps at a costume store or purchased online for a Halloween costume.

Before he had an opportunity to further ruminate as to where his cousin had gotten so many things, Penny exclaimed.

"You're the baby girl, put this dress on!"

Phil's eyes widened as he realized what his cousin was expecting, he had thought at least he was going to be a baby boy. He had expected to be wearing baby blues and greens, not pinks and purples.

"No."

"Pleeeeeease!"

"I said no."

"Aw come on, let's play pretend! I'll let you do all the homework you want after we're done!"

Stealing himself and glancing at the window as if somebody might be there, peering in on them, he rolled his eyes and nodded as Penny squealed with glee.

She scampered over to him, dress still in hand and pulled him up to his feet.

"We're going to pretend this dress fits perfectly on you, so come here so I can put it on you!"

Reluctantly, Phil kneeled down and bent his head forward so that she might pull the dress over his head. As she did so he pulled his arms upwards, pushing them through the holes in the sleeves and his head through the collar.

Penny tugged, and pulled the dress all the way down until he had put the whole thing on completely. Phil looked down on himself, noting that the frilly skirt went down just above his knees. The short, puffy sleeves stopped just past his shoulders.

He grimaced, wondering what he would look like in front of a mirror.

As if she had read his mind, Penny ran over to the corner of the living room where he saw a bunch of big colorful boxes containing her toys were placed. Opening the lid of one of the boxes, Penny lifted out a large, stand-alone mirror just around her height.

She placed it gently on the ground and wheeled it over to Phil, who when he saw himself standing there, dressed in a well-fitting dress. He could not help himself, he blushed bright red causing Penny to squeal with delight.

"Philly baby looks super cute! She must love her dress to have such wosey cheeks, huh wittle baby?"

His blush only furthered at her baby talk, realizing that he was growing quite embarrassed from the spectacle.

"Yeah yeah yeah I look adorable, okay what's next let's keep this moving."

Without warning, Penny walked up to him from behind the mirror and jumped up, popping something into his mouth.

The small pacifier he had seen tumble out of his bundle of props had now been lodged in his mouth, the bulb practically filling it entirely and making it very difficult for him to speak.

He tried to pull it out, noting the pink guard and the sparkles that it had been covered with as Penny exclaimed.

"Ah ah ah! Fussy babies get pacis! And you were being a very fussy baby girl!"

Phil suckled on the bulb a few times, feeling rather sheepish at having been told off by a six-year-old like he was the baby cousin in the family.

He shook his head, whatever, he thought to himself, as long as this speeds up play time...

Chapter 2. Tea Party

Phillip looked down at the frills and ruffles that now surrounded his waist and legs, it almost seemed as if the color pink seemed even more intense and girlish now that he was wearing it.

Whatever... let's just get this all over with... suckling on the pacifier, he stood in front of the couch and watched Penny continue digging through the pile of props she had brought.

"Found it!"

Resurfacing from the pile, Penny proudly held up a pink, loudly crinkling baby diaper decorated with patterns of rainbow ponies, princesses dressed in similar clothes to Philip waving magical wands, and castles waving cheerfully colored flags.

"I used to wear these when I was a baby! But now you're a baby and babies need to wear diapers because they're not potty trained! Now we're going to pretend, come over and lay down so that I can change you into your big diapers now baby girl!"

Where did she even find that thing? Hmmm, knowing Aunt Becky she probably saved a few for sentimental purposes.

He looked around, noting the vast amount of knick knacks and various other useless items that seemed to decorate the entire house. It made sense to him that her aunt would have kept a few spare diapers for sentimental purposes.

He sighed, laying himself down and allowing her cousin to place him into the diaper, unfolding it and taping it onto him. It took a few attempts to do so, as her fingers kept getting stuck on the tapes.

Every time she got stuck she giggled loudly, which only made the diapering process even longer as Philip found himself covering his face in shame, the pacifier still firmly lodged in his mouth and getting suckled on as he tried to not think about what was happening.

After a minute, she patted his diapered behind affectionately.

"All diapered up baby girl! Now you can make all the tinkles and stinkies you want and it'll stay in your diapers for your babysitter to change!"

Philip gathered himself to his feet again, feeling the thick padding between his thighs driving his legs apart several inches. The diaper hugged his waist firmly, its thickness and apparently absorbency not lost on Philip as he couldn't help but marvel just how well the diaper fit him.

"It's a good thing that I have diapers in your size too! You seem like a baby that probably makes extra big messes too!"

She stifled a giggle behind her palm as Philip's face reddened once again. He clasped his hands nervously in front of him, feeling grateful that the dress at least seemed to cover the diaper well, although his extra padded behind was a little bit more distinct outlined than it had been previously.

Penny began to skip and dance around him, singing in her sing-song tone of hers.

"Philly is a baaaby! Philly is a baaaby! Philly is a baaaby and we all faaall down!"

With that, she flounced down onto the pile of clothes backwards, falling into a fit of giggles. Philip found himself sitting on his butt, the pink, girlish diapers helping to cushion his fall as he realized he must have fallen down at the same time as her.

I didn't... why did I... but I didn't...

He felt utterly confused, it was almost as if he had instinctively obeyed Penny when she had exclaimed that they would all fall down, but he did not even consider falling down. He had simply done as she had commanded.

Before he had further time to ruminate, Penny jumped up once more and exclaimed happily.

"Okay baby girl, it's play time!"

Grabbing him by the hand, she led him over into her room. Phillipy found that his ability to walk was now significantly hindered, and he was forced to waddle awkwardly the entire way over to her doorway.

"Awww, wittle baby's learning how to toddle! What a good little baby girl!"

Penny cooed loudly, gently squeezing his hand as she grinned up at him, the gaps in her teeth where she had lost her baby teeth proudly displayed.

where he found that several stuffed animals, chairs, and a toy tea set had been set up and was waiting for them when they walked in.

"I already set everything up, you can take a seat next to Mr. Monkey!"

A large stuffed monkey sat closest to the door, leaning slightly to his side with a large, happy expression sewed across his face.

An elephant, giraffe, alien, and a pink bunny were also seated around the table, each propped up in plastic chairs and leaning slightly to one side or another.

Crinkling loudly, Philip maneuvered himself over to the table and sat down, looking around at the other guests at the table and then examining the tea cups and set in front of him.

"It's tea time everyone! And we have a very special guest today, a little baby girl that I'm babysitting named Philly!"

Phillip looked around, and saw that all of the stuffed animals had straightened themselves up now. While their facial expressions had not changed from the blank or happy faces they had displayed previously, they seemed to actually look at him alertly.

As Penny sat herself down, they accompanied and copied her movement as she reached for a cup of tea and brought it to her lips, slurping loudly.

The stuffed animals grasped their cups in turn, bringing them to their nonexistent lips and tipping the cups backwards as if pouring the tea into their mouths.

Philip reached over to do the same, but he must have moved to hastily or misjudged the distance. He grasped over the cup, but his fingers clumsily moved over it, tipping it over to its side and spilling the tea all over the table cloth.

"Oh no! Baby made a biiiiig mess! Silly me for thinking that a little baby girl like you can sip tea from a cup like a big girl like me! Let me get the big baby a baba to dwink fwom!"

Delving into her baby talk towards the end of her sentence, the little girl jumped up from her seat and dashed out of the room, quickly returning with a plastic baby bottle toy that was colored white, indicating that it was full of milk.

"Open wide baby! We gotta get all the num-nums into your tum-tums!"

Before he had a chance to protest, Penny pulled the large pacifier from his mouth and forcefully inserted the nipple of the bottle into his mouth.

Without even thinking, he began to suckle earnestly from the bottle, letting the sweet, warm milk trickle into his mouth for him to swallow.

His cheeks burned with blush, and he found it difficult to put together the thoughts or words to protest. He knew something about this did not feel right, but he just could not finger out why. It was as if every time he tried to think about it some pleasant, stifling cloud floated over his mind.

He felt as if his thoughts were dampened, and it was just so much easier to listen to his babysitter and drink from the bottle, just like the good little baby girl that he knew she wanted him to be.

He continued to drink for several minutes, feeling the contents of the bottle filling the inside of his tummy causing him to feel warm and soft.

Penny stood patiently holding the bottle to his lips, and she continued to coo and gush over him praising him for being such a helpless little thing and a very good girl for being so hungry for her baba.

His cheeks began to feel sore from his blushing, and he was just beginning to think that his insides might burst from the effort when at last the bottle was finished.

"Good girl! Now it's time to burp the baby!"

Grabbing his arm gently she pulled him forward, resting his chest against her shoulder as she began to pat his back firmly.

When after a few pats he let out a loud belch, his eyes widened in surprise. He had not expected for the pats to actually work, and the redness returned to his cheeks as a single coherent thought managed to bubble itself to the surface of his consciousness.

My baby cousin just burped me like a newborn infant...

"There, aaall better! Doesn't that feel better, baby girl?"

Gently pushing him back into his previous sitting position, she grabbed his arm once again and pulled him to his feet.

"Now it's time to play with toys! Oh oh, let's play with some dollies and blocks! I'll try and teach the baby how to spell her pretty name!"

With no choice other than to follow, and his head still feeling foggy, he was dragged by her over to the corner of her room next to her bed, where a toy chest sat practically overflowing with toys.

Kneeling next to the large chest, she began to rummage through the large container.

"Sit, baby!"

She commanded, and immediately Phillip flopped down onto his seat, waiting patiently for her as she began to take out toys. Dolls, styrofoam blocks, several large building blocks, a stacking ring set, and a few jingly toys that were obviously intended for a child much younger than her.

"Oh these are just perfect for you! We've got plenty of baby toys for little girls like you to play with!"

The burning in his cheeks did not subside as he suckled on his pacifier nervously, eyeing the various playtime toys she had brought out and already finding himself tempted to pick some of them up.

He was not sure why he felt as if something was wrong, should he not be excited to be getting to play with his babysitter?

He shook his head once more, a frown forming on his face as he knitted his brows. Was he not supposed to be the one that was babysitting? Did he not have homework to do?

Just as he was trying to remember what kind of homework he was supposed to be doing, Penny reached over and handed him one of the stacking ring sets.

"Here you go baby girl, try and put it back together again!"

She proceeded to unstack the rings, placing them gently on the carpeting around the spire as she chittered to him cheerfully, encouraging him to put them back together again.

He looked down, picking up some of the rings and appreciating their bright colors, marveling at how incredibly appetizing they looked.

He wondered why he had such a temptation to put them in his mouth, and before he realized it he heard a soft click as it bumped against his pacifier ring.

"Silly! Those aren't for eating! Aww, is the baby teething?"

Penny teased, reaching over to grab some blocks and arranging them in front of him, as if to spell something out.

He gazed at the letters, wondering what they were spelling out as the lines and shapes meant nothing to him.

Did he not know how to read? No, he thought dumbly as he picked up some of the blocks, stacking them on top of each other. Little baby girls do not know how to read yet, do they?

The sudden barrage of thoughts seemed to be too much for his head, for he opened his mouth and his pacifier almost fell out of his mouth.

Penny piped up, cooing over him as she spoke to him in an almost sing-song voice.

"Awww, is the wittle baby tiwed? Does somebawdy need a naaap?"

A feeling of indignation feeled the teenager's mind, and he instinctively crossed his arms, puffing his cheeks out and shaking his head, a frown forming on his face.

"Wooks wike the wittle baby is fussy! Probably in big need of a nap, let's give the baby girl her bottle first though!"

Jumping up, Penny ran out of the room leaving Phil's cheeks to blush as he realized that he was going to be bottlefed by a six year old.

Still, he had a hard time figuring out why such a thing would be so embarassing, after all he was just a baby girl and Penny was his babysitter.

Or... is it the other way around?

Running back into the room, a toy baby bottle firmly grasped in her land, she grabbed the oversized-looking baby and lead him over to a part of her room occupied by several large, friendly looking stuffed animals.

"Sit down here sweetie while Penny-wenny gives you your baba before you go ni-ni!"

With that childish sentence complete, she pointed down onto the ground, where Phillip found himself immediately and obediently sitting down upon, moving in unison Penny gently guided his head into her waiting lap.

Once comfortable lounging in the 6 year old's lap, Penny promptly popped out his pacifier and unceremoniously shoved the nipple of the practically dripping bottle into his mouth.

The formula tasted slightly bitter, and he had concentrated to keep himself from choking as he gulped down swallow after swallow.

While he drank, Penny petted his hair affectionately, commenting on what a good little baby girl she had and how well she was eating up her din-din.

As per usual, his cheeks were a fiery red as his mind searched further for a reason why he should not be in this situation.

At last the bottle was emptied, and before he could realize what was happening he let out a large belch, just as the nipple of the bottle was released from his lips.

"Good girls! Making burpies for her sitter!"

Penny praised with delight, as she set the bottle aside and stood up, beckoning for Philip to do the same.

Moving as if his body were no longer under control, he watched as she lead him over to a makeshift crib she had fashioned out of her bed, lining the edge of her bed with various toys and stuffed animals to attempt to simulate a crib.

"Now it's time to put the little baby to bed, ni-ni sweetie!"

She lowered the bars of the crib, pointing inside to instruct him to crawl inside. Whining, his cheeks still burning he did so, laying his head down onto a pillow.

"Don't forget your binky little one, sweet dreams!"

Almost reflexively, Philip began to suckle on the pacifier as the bars of the crib were raised. He felt a sudden fatigue washing over him, as if the playtime and everything they had done together leading up to this point had actually tired him out.

He brought the blanket closer to his chin, snuggling down onto the mattress as he faded into sleep. He mumbled something into the pacifier, something along the lines of not feeling tired at all.

Penny giggled, skipping out of the room before turning around, and quietly closing the door behind her.

Right before she shut it, she whispered, "Goodnight sweetie, thanks for playing!" before shutting the door with a click.

Epilogue

Philip blearily opened his eyes. What met his gaze was the sight of the girlish bedroom that he had been playing in just a few hours before.

He blinked a few times, readjusting his vision as the room came into focus once again. He looked around the room in slight confusion.

Wasn't he supposed to be doing something with Penny?

He frowned, suckling on the pacifier bulb still lodged in his mouth as his diaper crinkled loudly as he sat up in bed.

Baby... babysitting?

He looked down, seeing the frilly pink dress and feeling the thick, cushioning feeling of the diaper resting beneath his bottom.

A yawn escaped him, causing his pacifier to drop onto his lap as he rubbed his eyes, feeling as though he were still somehow asleep.

The door opened, and suddenly the sound of his mother talking to his aunt could be heard coming from the doorway.

"Oh yes, I know Philip can be quite the handful sometimes. But you know, what can you do about kids these days."

Before he was able to react properly, the door opened and Penny burst through the door.

"Oh! You're awake baby, your Mommy is here to pick you up from babysitting! You're going home now!"

Before he had finished processing the information, the door opened wider and his mother stood in the doorway, shaking her head side to side with a broad smile on her face.

"Well, well, well it looks like a certain little princess just woke up from her nap! I wonder what kind of mischief Penny is going to tell me that you got up to today, huh missy?"

She strode forward and popped the pacifier that had fallen into his frilly lap back into his mouth, gently stroking his hair as she tut-tutted over him.

"My goodness you really must have been a tired little girl, huh? Are you ready to go home now after Penny did such a good job babysitting for me?"

Philip was unable to respond, something told him that his mother usually did not talk to him in such a manner.

As pleasant as it felt to be doted over as much as she was doing, it almost felt like he might be a little too old for this kind of treatment.

Feeling confused, tired, and the slight urge to pee. He was about to open his mouth to respond when a sudden warmth began to grow on the front of his diaper.

He looked down, his cheeks reddening suddenly as he realized that he was now wetting uncontrollably into the front of his diaper.

Penny giggled, pointing with her finger as her other hand covered her mouth as she exclaimed.

"Look! Philly's had a wittle accident in her diaper!"

Upon the conclusion of this statement, Philip felt almost as if he were about to cry. It truly had been an accident, he had noticed a slight twinge in his bladder upon waking up but nothing prepared him for the fact that he apparently had lost complete control.

As the front of his diaper swelled to a larger, more pronounced size and the color of the rainbow ponies turned into a more yellowish tinge.

Reaching over his mother gently felt the front of his now exposed padding, gently squishing it with her fingers before placing a finger inside the lining of the front of his diaper and checking the inside for wetness.

"I think my little princess really soaked this one! Here sweetie, let's take you home and get you changed into a fresh diaper. I've already got all your stuff in the car. Hop up sweetie!"

With surprising strength his mother scooped him up into her arms, placing a protective yet firm hand underneath his bottom as she lifted him up.

Helpless to stop her, the poor sissified baby could only look behind his mother's shoulder back at Penny, who wore a particularly proud expression.

She beamed at him, waving with both hands and yelling.

"Bye bye baby girl! See you later!"

His mother stepped out of the door of his aunt's house and headed towards the car, humming under her breath as she opened the sliding door to his van.

"There we are, now let's buckle you up into your kiddy seat."

Looking behind him Phil saw to his confusion that a large baby seat with a particularly robust looking harness was now installed, the straps open and waiting for somebody to be placed inside.

With a crinkle and a slight squelching noise, his bottom was deposited into the waiting seat. Pulling the straps over his limbs, the buckles clicking into place giving him a strong sense of security.

Still feeling confused, embarrassed, and slightly sleepy the poor oversized baby could only suckle on his pacifier helplessly as he watched his mom walk up to the driver's seat.

He blinked his eyes slowly, everything was beginning to feel too complicated and confusing to him. He yawned once again, without even realizing it wetting a little bit more into the front of his diapers as his eyelids grew heavy.

He had a feeling that something still wasn't all that right, but with the comfort of the harness keeping him in place as his Mommy peeled out of the driveway, he had a feeling that everything would be alright.

Just before he fell asleep once again, his mother spoke softly to him, as if attempting to further lull him into a sense of security.

"Now I know you get all fussy when your diaper gets soggy and you don't get changes for a bit princess, but I promise that once we get home I'll run you a nice, warm bath and make you a baba, okay sweetie?"

Philip wanted to respond, but that would have required taking the pacifier out of his mouth. That was something that he really did not want to do.

The sissy baby simply let out a sigh of acknowledgement, and snuggled down deeper into his harnessed seat. A nap sounded just about perfect right now.

35 notes · View notes

harringtonheartache · 4 years

Text

Daybreak | Part Sixteen

Part Seventeen

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Lab Escapee! Reader?

Summary: Part sixteen of this fic. What’s to happen and whose to blame?

Word Count: 2,800 +

Warning(s): Cussing, mild injury description

A/N: Just a thank-you to everyone who is reading & enjoying 🥺

Hopper paced in the kitchen of the Harrington home, his shoes squeaking against the hardwood every time he turned too quickly. A notepad, one-fourth used, sat turned over in his hands, and he stopped his marching to scratch words across a new page. He wrote it all out, hoping that seeing the story in the form of a list may provide him with a simplified perspective; a math problem to be solved on paper. With every bullet point he felt more like ripping the page from his notebook entirely, convinced that if anyone saw it, it would look like he had scribbled down an idea for a bad sci-fi movie. He finished the list anyway, and the last point written in all capital letters read: SHE SAYS WILL IS IN THE ‘UPSIDE-DOWN’. Big cartoonish quotes around the last word.

The only person in the house who could claim it as his own residence entered the kitchen alone, joining Hopper who leaned over his notepad like a kid cramming for a test that he forgot to study for. Steve put one hand down on the counter and leaned against it, agitated. He asked a question simply: “what happens next,” and Hopper slowly raised his head from his notes. His face was dismayed, and it took him a second to think up a response. “Wh- what happens next? I don’t know what happens next, Harrington.” He spoke down to the teenager as he stood up to his full height.

Steve gave him a defeated look, then hardened his expression to mirror Hopper’s own irritance. He wasn’t able to speak before Hopper continued. “If I am being honest, everything she told me today is…” he looked away from Steve, eyes still wide as his hand wavered in the air, beckoning the words to come to him. “... pretty much unusable,” he finished.

“Unuse-” the word wasn’t even complete from Steve’s mouth, and he looked at Hopper wildly. “What do you mean? She just answered all of your questions, willingly, and you can’t use any of it? She just gave you so much on-”

“Look, kid. What she told me sounds like delusion. Maybe the effects of trauma — I understand that the lab wasn’t good to her-”

“Good to her?” Steve’s second hand hit the countertop with a smack. “They fucking tortured her. But what she’s told you aren’t lies. I've seen this shit first-hand.” The curses came out clean, fear of authority gone.

Hopper sighed, picking up his notepad and backing up to lean back against the neighboring counter. He looked at Steve with a tight mouth, flipping closed his notes with a swing of his hand. “If I go into the station with the information she told me, nothing will happen. Even worse, CPS will come for the girl. Unidentifiable and without residence, she’ll be taken.”

Steve butted in again, eager to combat anything coming from the sheriff’s mouth. “No. If you call Child Protective Services, the lab will find out somehow and they’ll come get her.” He would admit that his voice sounded weak, like begging from a small child. His words were true though, and this fear that action he was without control over would be taken made his raging heartbeat audible to him in his ears. “She- she does have residence,” he added breathily, one hand lifting from the counter as he looked down to himself.

“You are not residence. She may be staying here, but this is not her legal home,” Hopper jabbed.

Steve sighed, a mixture of aggravation and defeat, head rolling back as he did so.

“I know you want to protect her,” Hopper’s voice was low yet strong, careful to enunciate. It sounded like the voice of bad news, a tone that was rehearsed, and Steve wished he would turn this speech filter off. “But the things she is telling me are crazy,” Hop cursed himself for his inability to think of a better word to use, but crazy was just so fitting.

“It’s all true, though. Ask me. Ask Dustin. We’ve witnessed it. You- you’ve witnessed it. I mean, you’ve seen the lab. Does that look like an innocent place?” Desperate was a fitting word for Steve’s tone, but it didn’t come off as artificial.

Hopper didn’t say anything quite yet, a look of incapability flashing across his face as he hoped Steve would just continue. And he did, picking up momentum as he spoke. “We can show you. She can prove to you that she has powers, I swear, just not yet. You saw what she looked like when we pulled her out of that place, she needs to rest. But- but,” his eyes were wide now, and stared down Hopper frantically. “She can show you, okay? You need to believe us. She can’t fu-” he stuttered over his cursing this time, like he had realized it would be of no help. His facial expression softened as he finished the word anyway. “-fucking go back there again. I broke that promise once, I won’t do it again.”

Hopper stepped down from Steve’s front porch, his legs tired despite the lack of work they had done, off to his car still decorated with fresh scratches across the hood. The argument had ushered him out after it’s conclusion, a lazy (yet genuinely unsure) ‘For now just rest up, we’ll figure this out’ acting as his last words and only instruction. He sat in his car for a few minutes before driving off, finally sliding a hand into the tight restraint of his front pocket and slipping from it his carton of cigarettes. He didn’t even bother to roll a window down before lighting one up.

Steve stood in his doorway for a minute after the door had shut, a closing hand against it as he looked down at his shoes. The creak of unsure footsteps against the hardwood floor drew his head back up, and Nine stood before him: her presence small, her face apologetic.

“Hey!” Steve said, the word a shocked reaction more than a greeting. “Do…” he trailed off as he took his hand from against the door, suddenly feeling the need to entertain, as if Nine were a house guest he was disappointing. “Want lunch? ...Maybe a late lunch, I guess.” His dire attempt to recover the easygoing atmosphere of their earlier morning came off unsettling, like a cover-up. He was desperate for both of them to forget Hopper’s visit, ignore the inevitable while they still had time to. He tried to lead the way with his proposition of a meal, but Nine’s gaze only wavered confusedly from down the hall. Sunlight poured in through the windows, the only source of light in the house as of right now, light switches left untouched for movie-viewing. It illuminated the corridor, painting it a warm color despite the feeling of cold in the space between them. She wanted to advance, perhaps shake the air of the stale feeling, but stayed where she was. “What’s happening?” she said, her voice quiet enough to be lost if it hadn’t been for the harsh silence.

Steve shook his head as if he didn’t know what she was talking about, but could only bring himself to do so moderately. He warmed his expression and tied his voice in ribbons. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t…” Nine stopped, one foot shifting her stance as she bounced uncomfortably. “Don’t pretend.” Her words were solid the second time, and her demeanor circled from worry to intolerance. She bit at her tongue, rethinking her delivery and considering backpedaling to relay it a little softer. She didn’t though, and Steve broke the extended silence with a sigh. He had been caught, and his arms hung at his sides as he took a few steps towards Nine. She breathed out too, a release of anxiety, and felt thankful for this break in what felt like a performance from both of them.

“I don’t really know what’s happening,” Steve said, now landed fully in front of Nine as he looked down upon her grievingly. He wanted to place his hands on either one of her arms, rubbing them up and down lightly in a cheesy ‘we’ll get through this, honey!’ manner that you’d expect from a married couple. He stopped himself, figuring it was in bad taste. Patronizing, maybe, and he didn’t want her to feel like she deserved to be addressed that way. Like she was separate from the solution; like she was the problem, in fact. “Hopper doesn’t really know what to think, but you’re safe. He isn’t going to do anything that will put you in danger,” he told her instead.

“He doesn’t believe me,” she said, looking up and drawing her eyebrows downward as she retreated back to her cold tone. “I have to show him, Steve,” his name came out softer, and she realized it was because she didn’t want to be mad at him. She wasn’t mad at him, and she wanted him to know this.

His eyes turned bigger, but with sorrow, not shock. He tilted his head and tucked his bottom lip in his mouth to bite.

He looked pained, and Nine considered his ask. ‘You can’t use your powers’ he had told her. It was a strange sentence to repeat in her head, as her body usually rattled with demands to do the exact opposite. It felt warm, the foreign request for self-preservation above all else, and she felt bad for not being able to enjoy it. Or feeling able to comply, either.

“I don’t want you to feel pressured,” Steve said, voice quieted like Nine had started out. “I know that it feels urgent, but you’re hurt, and you need to recover. That is what’s most important”.

She looked at him, and they both had a sorrowful gloss over their eyes.

“What about Will?” she asked, voice hushed again.

“I know you want to help, but you have to take care of yourself first. We will find him,” Steve said, voice steady with a confidence he hoped would convince. His eyes peaked to her arm, still wrapped tightly in white, and contemplated how long he should wait to change the bandaging. ‘You have to take care of yourself first’ more accurately meant you have to let me take care of you first.

Nine inhaled, tried to still her breath from shuttering. Her head felt heavy, and she looked away from him as if it would clear her mind, make her train of thought run smoother.

“What if it’s my fault he’s gone?”

She phrased her words like a question, but it felt more like a confession the way it creeped from her mouth, slow and whispered like they were sharing secrets in a public setting. Will stood as a picture in her mind, the background a black void he threatened to fall into. Steve pulled his head back, questioning if he had heard her right and hoping that he hadn’t. He almost stammered out his own question, but stilled his tongue. He now did reach out, one hand cupping her shoulder, his grip strong. A little bit of tension she had been holding in her arm dropped intrinsically.

“Nothing that has happened is your fault,” he said, whispering it like his own secret, voice sweet like syrup. He was careful to enunciate, wanting her to soak up every word. If he sharpened his words maybe he’d penetrate her doubt.

Nine pictured Steve sitting in a small room, the man she could now attach a visual to — Hopper — standing in front of him. She thought of him stuttering over his answers, Hopper’s face glowing with a red rage as he snapped at him to spit it out. Consequences for Steve worse than a wounded ankle had begun emerging from the dark of her mind, the wordless arguing she heard from a room over looping in the background of the ugly scenario she couldn’t help her thoughts from drifting to.

“Nine? Nothing is your fault,” Steve repeated. Nine looked up this time and stared at his black eye, still swollen. Purple skin that held a shine to it to remind her of a contradictory repercussion; an ulterior consequence that she had a better idea about. A situation that her mind could run with — she knew the people at Hawkins’ Lab. Go ahead, picture him bloodied and broken by the familiar faces in white coats, it would be so easy to do!

“Nine…”

That black eye is just the beginning…

Her mind was making her promises.

“You’re not safe,” she barked, and Steve almost flinched. His widened eyes blinked once, twice before he spoke again. His voice was still gentle despite her increased volume. He couldn’t help it. “What are you talking about? I’m fine,” he told her, shaking his head. The shine of his bruised skin caught the light.

“No you’re not, and neither is Will.”

“Will is going to be fine too. He’s stuck — in that place — but that’s not something to blame yourself for,” he said, his heart burning with the need for her understanding. He wanted to place his second hand on her other shoulder to parallel the first, shake some sense into her like the message would stick if he just tried harder.

“He’s stuck there because of me!” Her voice faltered, cracked for the first time that Steve had heard. It shocked him; he was used to her steady speaking. “The thing that took him there, the monster that we saw in the woods, it got out because of me,” she said, retreating to a calmer volume, tone still unable to match.

He stood in front of her, unsure and therefore silent. His hand dropped from her shoulder, and brushed her arm on the way down to reach for her hand instead. Nine twitched, pulled away from his grasp as tears she tried to blink away formed in her vision. She kept blinking as she opened her mouth to speak again, voice decreasing in strength between each pause. “I’m the one they used to reach it, and it followed me out when I escaped. It got Will and it hurt you and so will they.” Her certainties rushed from her mouth in a list, and little Will returned as a mental image; a supervisor of her words.

Steve watched, mouth opening but ill-prepared. A single tear escaped from Nine’s bitter eyes, but she swiped it away like a drop of blood from her nose. “What they did to you, what they made you do, isn’t your fault. Nine, you can’t carry that guilt.” A second tear fell, but she didn’t bother with wiping it from her cheek this time. It ran hot down her face, then disappeared down the length of her neck.

“You’re not safe helping me,” she said, words teetering on the verge of a whisper, admission leaving her throat like a broken realization that she just couldn’t help but say out loud.

And Steve still stood, arms now drooped at his sides, heartbeat heard in his ears again. In his mind, ideas bounced around detailing what she meant — what would happen to him, how it would end. Theories spun around, himself a human target on a wooden board being struck by knives. He stilled his thoughts, latching onto only one.

“I don’t care,” he said. “I don’t care that I’m not safe, because you aren’t either, and that’s more important to me.” He looked into her eyes, and this time she believed that his words were true. She breathed out, a gentle shutter that looked like it should be accompanied by heavy tears; a dry sob that folded her shoulders, pain too tired for crying. She held out, begging Steve with silence to take back his proclamation, but he didn’t.

“You are my priority, and I’m helping you no matter what.”

Nine didn’t speak back, just watched him as he slowly returned his hand to where it was on her arm. This time she let him, her body swaying slightly with her heartache. Steve bent down marginally, peering into her eyes as a determined tear finally dropped to her face. He raised his other hand, quickly placing his palm against her cheek, three fingers folded underneath her chin, and brushed it away with his thumb. He took his hand away immediately — like he hadn’t thought through the action and didn’t want to linger. Like it was purely instinctual. Then, he wrapped his arm around to place a gentle hand on her back, guiding her to his chest in a tight embrace. He rested his chin on her head as he held her to him, and his warm body slowed her raging heart. “We’re going to be okay,” he breathed as they rocked back and forth in the empty house.

---

Tag List: @ggclarissa @gurl-ly @hyp-oh-critical @alewifex @we-are-band-sexuals @cpt-lamby @l0ve-0f-my-life @easvtohate @used-avocado @kwyloz @itzpikapie @samwise-babeyy @rapsfryingpan @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @mochminnie @peterwandaparker @ayamecrevan @lilyhw1 @seninjakitey @lulurose17 @write-from-the-heart @harringtonlr @sledgy14 @stranger-names

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve x reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington series #st #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #ST fic #ST fanfic #jim hopper

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perseusjackson-jasongrace · 4 years

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Hey! How are you? Hope you are doing well!

I read your jealous!percy fanfiction and OH MY GODS is it possible to be in love with a fanfiction because I really was!!

Can I request for a part two??

Please feel free to ignore this if you are busy or cannot do it right now!

I just wanted to say that I really do adore you and your content!!!

Thank you!!!

When I tell you I sat in my room and cried when I saw this ask?!? Thank you so much for your lovely words angel💖🥺they really do mean the world! And I’m so so so happy you enjoy the mess I put out☀️

Your wish is my command so here is Part 2 of the Jealous! Percy fic. There is no jelly Perc in this one but there's enough fluff you may have a cavity after all this sweet👀

Please enjoy!

Masterlist

Percy puts the final bauble on the Christmas tree and stands back to admire his work. The tree glitters brightly, a combination of tinsel and the soft yellow lights wrapping around the branches. The low melody of Christmas music comes from the small radio sitting on the bookshelf and the coco steaming on his coffee table looks more than inviting. He figures if he, and his band of misfit daddy and/or mommy issue group of friends, couldn't go home for Christmas he would do his best to bring the festivities here. The one person he really wants here is going to California for the holidays, something he hasn't done in years, and although Percy is disappointed he knows his friends will make the most of the time anyway.

He collapses onto his couch, staring at his hard work and takes a small sip from the steaming mug. His laptop is silently playing some Christmas movie or the other and the mountain of notebooks and pens on the table shake precariously. A small collection of weathered envelopes sits to one side; cards for his friends. They had promised no gifts, as they do every year, and instead sought to make the cheesiest, funniest, most tear worthy cards. There were different categories and if you won you got to pick the holiday games or what happens to the losers.

A single knock at his door pulls a frown onto his face. He considers ignoring it, mostly because he wasn't expecting anyone, but it starts back up a moment later and he resigns to a baseball bat and a cautious glance. He eases the door open and bursts out laughing as he sees who's behind it.

"What?" His unexpected guest gives him a wide eyed look, "Did I forget pants or something?"

"I thought you were a really polite murderer."

"What?" Confusion is etched so perfectly across that beautiful face Percy can't help but laugh again.

"Come in my love," He moves out the way and let's his boyfriend pass.

Just as he closes the door again Jason Grace pulls him by the wrist and crashes their bodies together.

"I missed you," The blonde breathes, and he has to hide the shiver that races up his spine at those husky words.

"We saw each other two days ago?"

"Maybe I'm an addict."

"Please kiss me. Right now."

And those blue eyes glitter with joy as their lips meet. It is soft and patient and full of sweet wonder. Jason threads his hands through those black curls and slants his head slightly, trying to get closer, if that were even possible. Percy swipes his tongue across the blonde's lip and his mouth parts in a little gasp. Their kiss deepens, turns to languid exploring and content passion.

When they break apart they are out of breath and the smiles taking over their faces make the sun look dim.

"Missed me that much huh?"

"More," A golden hand strokes his flushed cheek.

"What are you doing here?" He leans into the hand, looks up, into that adoring gaze, "I thought you were going to Cali to be with your father?"

"He has a last minute work trip," The blonde rolls his eyes, "I'd rather spend the holidays with you anyway."

"Well the gang is coming over tomorrow but we have tonight and every day after that all to ourselves."

"Who knew we'd be here?" Jason sighs, laying one of Percy's hands against his thundering heart.

"Not me," He giggles, "I thought I'd be spending my Christmas pretending I haven't been pining over you and maybe drinking unhealthy amounts of coco."

His boyfriend scrunches his nose, "Why do you even like the stuff? It tastes like bitter bean water."

"I think you're talking about coffee," His green eyes sparkle with amusement.

"Ugh don't even get me started on that stuff. Tea is the only valid hot beverage." The blonde huffs as they stow his stuff in the bedroom and flop down on the couch.

"You are such an old man," He shakes his head, rubbing a thumb over his palm.

"What time is everyone else coming tomorrow? And who is?"

"They'll be here between eleven and one because I told them ten. And it's Frank, Haze, Leo, and Reyna. Everyone else is with their families."

Jason snuggles into him, hair tickling his neck as he rests against his shoulders. A muffled yawn escapes him and Percy's heart clenches for the gentleness of the situation.

"You want some tea?"

"No," He yawns again, "I'll need to pee every five seconds in the night."

He laughs, and his boyfriend whips his body up, eyes wide with horror, "Sorry that was probably too much information."

"Are you kidding I’ve seen you throw up your guts because of food poisoning. That was hilarious."

"Shut up," Jason mumbles, golden cheeks heating, "We don't talk about that."

"I think it's the only time I've ever seen you look disheveled."

He shudders, laying his head back on Percy's shoulder, "I never went to feel like that again. I swear I was dying."

They settle into the quiet, the hum of the radiator and the low music still playing from the radio washing over them. Jason intertwines their fingers, tracing patterns against the back of his boyfriend's beautiful brown skin. And that's how they fall asleep, slowly and indulgent. As if they can hang up time on a hook and take it down when they need it next.

When Percy's alarm starts playing the next morning he groans loudly and stretches out. His boyfriend mumbles something and snuggles further into his side. He strokes a hand through those sunlight strands and drops a kiss on his forehead.

"I have to get everything ready, my love."

"Don't leave," He garbles, "You warm."

"I promise I'll be back. Why don't you go sleep in the room. You'll be more comfortable there"

"Want you," His voice is raspy with sleep and Percy has to stop himself from yanking his boyfriend by the hoodie and planting a passion fueled kiss on his lips.

"If I don't set up we'll never be ready by the time the gang comes."

Jason simply holds his arms up, blue eyes unfocused and gives him a lopsided smile. With a sigh that hides his amused affection he loops his arms under the blonde's, wrapping them around his back, and grabs his legs.

"You ready my love?"

A nod, and fumbling kiss into his neck is the reply. And then Percy is lifting up his boyfriend and carrying him through the apartment and into his room.

"Mhmm," Jason hums onto his skin, "Smells like you."

"You like it?"

"Smells good," He bobs his head as he snuggles into the duvet, "Like ocean and rain."

Percy just smiles and brushes his lips across the blonde's gently, "Sleep."

As he turns to walk away Jason catches his wrist and tugs him back.

"Stay," His blue eyes are wide with pleading, "Please."

"But i—" He starts, and then he's falling onto the bed and wrapping his arm around his boyfriend, "We are going to be so late."

Jason kisses his cheek, his nose, his other cheek, before finally reaching his lips.

"Iss okay," He's already falling back asleep.

Their breathing slows, and they find each other once more, in a land as perfect as this one.

***

"Well good morning lover boys," A delighted voice squeals.

Percy moans, muttering something unintelligible and buries himself into the sheets.

"I take it nobody has ordered our Christmas feast or started on the Eggnog Nogfest?" Another voice giggles.

"Go, sleep, warm." He tries to form a coherent thought.

"If y'all don't get your asses up right now I'm pouring ice water on both of you." A husky growl comes from right over them.

Ocean eyes blink open as he struggles to bring the room into focus.

A scary, bright-eyed Reyna is glaring at them and Leo is leaning against the door frame, mirth swimming in his expression.

"Finally," Hazel laughs, "So can we get this party started?"

"Ugh," Percy groans, "What time is it?"

"Half twelve. We let ourselves in after knocking at your door so long your neighbor came to tell you off for having sex in the kitchen."

"What?" He isn't awake enough for Leo's explanations.

"Cause you know banging against the wall?" His friend prompts but Percy just waves him off and rubs at his eyes, nudging Jason to get up.

"So when's lunch?"

Frank steps into the room with a reassuring smile, "On the way. I just ordered."

"Are we having Christmas in here then?" He asks.

"Sounds like a plan to me," Reyna shrugs.

And before Percy can protest Leo is catapulting onto the bed and Hazel is flopping over their legs.

"Wow Jase," She pokes at the blonde, "You bony shins are really comfortable against my spine."

"Who asked you to collapse onto my bones?" He grumbles, trying to wake himself up.

"Who asked you to be sleeping on Christmas morning?" She shoots back cheekily.

"Touchè." He grins, moving over to make her comfortable.

"Well," Percy looks at his friends, eyes shining, "What are you two waiting for? Get on here!"

Reyna and Frank shake their heads, like the parents they were so rightfully labeled, but happiness sparks in their eyes and they dive under the covers.

"So who wants to play Go Fish or Forfeit?" Leo smiles gleefully.

A shout of excitement goes up and they all shuffle into a circle, the blue-threaded black silk duvet being tucked around them. He grabs the double pack of cards he keeps at his nightstand and distributes seven per person.

"Everyone know the rules?" He asks.

They all nod. So the Christmas festivities begin.

And there in that room, on that bed, Percy and his friends know what warmth feels like, and the glittering in their eyes can only mean love.

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queenofheaven82 · 3 years

Text

PART I -- Small Beginnings

This is dedicated to everyone who put their back into creating The Mighty Ducks franchise. From the first time I watched it as a ten-year-old girl, I was captivated. Thank you for whipping up the magic. I'm honored to be a part of spreading it by way of this fanfiction.

This is also for every young girl who struggles to do life every day. You are seen and loved.

***

A/N: I'm choosing, for this story, to slightly alter the timeline to more closely reflect the actors' ages than what was presented in the films. It never seemed accurate to me that they were ten, twelve and fourteen respectively when most of them were obviously at least sixteen by D3. I realize this would skew the fact that in D3 they were still JV, but just work with me here and pretend it all worked out somehow. :)

Winter 1992

Twelve-year-old Lacey bit off a sliver of thumbnail and pushed back a stray lock of frizzy brown hair. The boys on skates, unrecognizable in all the padding and helmets, were filing out onto the ice, sailing hockey pucks back and forth to warm up before the game. The air was electric.

This was hockey, after all. The sport Minnesotians lived for, much to Lacey's chagrin. Hockey, to her, was just... hockey. Nothing special. Kids with sticks and pucks, hurting each other just to shoot something in a net. But her almost-stepbrother Davy played left wing for the illustrious Hawks, and that meant she could count on spending most Friday evenings at the rink.

It was going to be a long couple of hours, so she pulled out the Babysitter's Club book she'd stashed in her backpack, ignoring how her fingers throbbed from having bitten her nails too short again.

"Alright then!" Lanky Stuart plunked into the seat beside her, a stray piece of popcorn falling onto the page of her book and leaving a trail of grease as she shook it off. "Who ordered Milk Duds?" his cheerful, Scottish brogue boomed in her ears above the murmurs of the crowd. "Mum, was that you?" he reached across Lacey and her Mom snatched the Milk Duds quickly from her boyfriend.

"Thank God. And tell me you didn't forget the gummy bears."

Stuart handed them over with a flourish. "Not so. And I believe someone ordered peanut M&M's! Who could that be? Do you know, Lacey?"

Lacey looked up and gave Stuart a quick smile. "Thanks," she mumbled. She had ordered no such thing, but it was like Stuart to remember her favorite candy. She set the bag in her lap and continued to read.

"Come sit down!" she heard Hurricane Mom shout to the twins for the millionth time in a half hour. "Halen, don't make me come over there. Ariel, do you want gummies or not? Lacey, what are you doing?!" her mom turned to her, swatting her hand away from her mouth. "You'll start bleeding again!"

Lacey sighed and slipped her hand underneath her thigh to keep herself from biting more.

Her mom had been fun and easygoing once. She hadn't yelled, hadn't always had that line between her brows from worrying so much, and was always the first to join in when Stuart announced spontaneous dance parties in the living room, blaring his British pop cassettes.

But that was before everything had happened. The past two years had been very different.

The rink gave off a chill Lacey couldn't get warm against until Stuart placed his jacket across her shoulders. "Oh, are we back to Mary Anne now?" he reached over to look at her book cover. "She your favorite lass of them all?"

Lacey shook her head. "Dawn is."

"Dawn? The one from New York who eats junk food?"

Lacey cracked a smile. "You're mixing like three of them up."

"I could have sworn Dawn was the New Yorker. Oh, OH!" Stuart leapt to his feet suddenly, along with almost everyone around them. The hockey game was now well underway, and all around Lacey came shouts of "BANKS! BANKS! BANKS!"

She should have prepared herself for this outburst of cheering for the Hawks' star player, but Lacey was taken offguard and clapped her hands over her ears, heart racing. Clamping her eyes shut, she tried to do what Dr. Heffner had told her to do and imagine a meadow. With a creek, and fireflies circling her head. No, fairies. Better. They were each wearing pastel-colored dresses. And they were singing--

"BANKS! BANKS! BANKS!"

How she wished Adam Banks would just score already and people would stop shouting. What if she couldn't make it past this one?

The fairies suddenly morphed into angry bees that swarmed madly in her brain.

Lacey bent over to hold her head between her knees as she rocked gently, waiting for it to stop.

Just when she'd formed fistfuls of hair and prepared to jerk hard, a final cheer erupted, and the noise subsided.

"Uh oh. You okay, Baby?" she felt her mom's hands pulling her hair off her neck.

This was the mom she needed so desperately.

"Breathe. Breathe." her mom began to breathe with her as Lacey tried to fill her lungs deeply, keeping her eyes closed for a minute.

"Lacey? Gee, I'm...I'm sorry," she heard Stuart's voice.

"These games aren't good for her, I told you. Next time you can come watch Davy by yourself," her mom snapped.

"Sometimes she does loud noises just fine! How was I supposed to know?" he stood quickly. "You go ahead and take her home. I'll keep the twins and we'll finish watching Davy play."

"No I'm okay," Lacey finally managed to squeak. "It's fine now, I promise."

The panic was abating, but ever so slowly. Lacy tried to force it out by sheer will, but it was like trying to bail water out of a sinking ship with an eyedropper.

"Don't think about it," her mother cut in quickly. "For one thing, Dr. Heffner says be present in the moment. We're at Davy's hockey game, and you're reading a book. You get lost reading and then things startle you. Here." Lacey felt the book being pulled from her hands. "Did you pull any hair out this time?"

Her mom examined her hair, looking for the tell-tale signs.

"No, I didn't pull," Lacey answered, flushing in deep embarrassment. "Can we please just watch the game? I'm fine."

For the next hour, Lacey tried to focus her attention on Stuart's son, Davy, who played hockey for a league of rich kids called the Hawks. His mother, Stuart's ex-wife, lived in the right part of town to allow for it. But Davy mostly just "rode the bench" during games, a fact Stuart continually pointed out with annoyance.

"He almost made that last shot! Riley ought to give him another chance! He always takes him out early and replaces him with that McGill kid."

But time was almost up before they knew it, and Davy had secured only a precious few minutes on the ice.

Lacey wasn't sure what the point was in these weekly games. Davy never played, and the ending was always predictable -- the Hawks creamed the Cardinals 10-2.

The Hawks always won.

"Och, nearly made it! So close!" Stuart gave Davy's shoulder a fond squeeze on the way to the car. "Even closer than last time!"

"Almost doesn't count, though, Dad," Davy huffed. "Coach says one more game like I played today and I'll be on the bench for good.

"Well." Stuart noticeably forced a pleasant tone. "We'll just have to see about that. I'm not above tal--"

"Darlene Primmer?"

Lacey looked over and saw their landlord -- Mr. Philip Banks -- fast approaching, his son Adam, the big shiny Hawks superstar, on his heels. Her stomach sank. This meant her mom would stay in a sour mood for the rest of the night.

She looked up to catch her mom rolling her eyes. "Go on to the car, Stuart. Take the girls," her mom slowed her pace.

Stuart hesitated, taking a deep breath before gently tugging Davy's arm. "Ari... Halen, let's go. Lacey?"

But Lacey moved in closer to her mom to give Stuart the clue she wasn't leaving. Something must be wrong.

Mr. Banks caught up with them. "Hi. Hey there," he flashed a smooth smile toward her after greeting her mom. "I noticed I didn't receive anything in the mail this past week. We talked about this, Ms. Primmer, didn't we?" he reached up to tug at his collar. "I'm sorry to have to say this, but time's up. You're behind by two months."

Her mom let out a noisy breath. "Phil, I still need more time. Lacey's had some doctor bills and the twins needed school clothes. How am I supposed to do all this by myself? You told me you'd cut me a break when I needed it, and well, I need it now. Working in a warehouse makes me pennies, but you wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

Lacey forced herself to look over at Adam, embarrassed that her mom had mentioned the doctor bills. But Adam's eyes were averted, almost like she wasn't even worth looking at it.

Rich boy...

Mr. Banks crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. "I've given you plenty of breaks already, Ms. Primmer. I need the rent this week, or I'll be forced to take this to court."

Lacey watched as her mom bit her lip but recovered quickly. "Then you'll have it. Whatever, just don't harass me and my kid out here in public, alright?"

"Whoa whoa, no one's harassing anyone here," Mr. Banks lifted his hands. "This doesn't need to go any further if you'll come through this week as I've asked you. You might consider asking... Stuart, is it?... isn't he your younger girls' father? Couldn't he help you out in a pinch?"

"That's none of your damn business, Phil," Lacey's mother's back stiffened. "But if you must know, I make my own way and pay for my own stuff. Stuart doesn't take care of me. I do it myself. So give me this week and I'll get it straightened out, yeah?"

Before Lacey realized it, her hand went back to her mouth. What would happen if her mother didn't make rent this week? They wouldn't have anywhere to go. They could go to Stuart's, but he only lived in a two-bedroom apartment. And anyway, why wouldn't her mom let Stuart help them? He'd offered so many times. He'd even proposed more than once since Halen and Ariel had been born, but her mom was so stubborn in her refusal. Would she have to stop seeing Dr. Heffner? And what if it still didn't make any difference and her mom couldn't afford to live in their cheerful little townhouse any more? Would they be homeless and have to go eat at the soup kitchen around all those other people?

She wasn't sure how long Adam Banks had been staring at her, but when she realized it, she was immediately uncomfortable and wanted to run to the car.

"Do you know you're bleeding?"

Mr. Banks turned quickly around. "Son, I'm having a conversation. Go wait in the--"

"She's bleeding," Adam repeated to his father.

Lacey felt sick. She was doing it again.

She brought her hand down and saw that the last three fingernails of her right hand had been bitten down to the quick, and were indeed blooming blood. She suddenly noticed the coppery taste of it in her mouth.

Lacey panicked and tried to shove her hand quickly into her jeans pocket, but Adam was pulling the burgundy scarf from around his neck and pushing it toward her. "Here. You can use this."

She blinked, frozen to the spot and unable to reach for the scarf before her mother got there to it first.

"No thank you," her mom snapped, pushing Adam's hand with the scarf back toward him. She turned back to Mr. Banks. "My kid has problems handling stress, alright? Thanks a billion for setting her off."

Lacey limply allowed her mom to pull her hand up and away from her, presumably to keep the blood off her clothes. "I'll have your money this week." She took a step past a bewildered Mr. Banks. "Now leave us alone."

With that, she pulled Lacey back toward the building and the women's restroom to wash her hand off.

Lacey tried to look back toward Adam, feeling sorry she'd not been able to tell him thank you, but his dad was turning him away and they had begun the walk toward their car.

"M-Mom, it was nice of him to try to give me his scarf. You didn't have to be mean."

"I wasn't mean," her mother clipped. "I just wanted them to know we don't need their help. Lacey, people like that..." she could feel her mother trembling slightly with anger. "... They think they're God's gift to the world. And the rest of us low-lives should be grateful they let us breathe the same air. I mean, the man brought Stuart into this for God's sake! As if Stuart and my situation is any of his concern. I'm telling you, if--"

But Lacey was tuning her mother out.

She'd unwittingly bitten her nails down too low before in school, embarrassing herself royally when the blood began to pour down her fingers..

Fruit loops... Vampire... Flesh eater... Loosey Lacey...

Not once had anyone even offered her a Kleenex other than a teacher. So how could Adam be so bad if he'd tried to do something so nice for her?

Lacey thought about it all while her mother washed off her fingertips and wrapped them up in paper towels, never once pausing her tirade against the Bankses.

Finally, her heart dared to smile.

Stuart was one of the only people who was kind to her for no good reason, but he was a grownup. Now, someone her own age had been, too.

She didn't have to be so afraid all the time, did she?

#adam banks #mighty ducks #trichotillomania #young adult

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gaamagirl565 · 4 years

Text

Matters of the heart S2 ep 14

Matters of the heart Season 2 Episode 14 Family never forgets

{OPENING CREDITS} {open to night in the dark kingdom; Isaiah shuffles around the alleyway packing items into a sack; Gaia gets up and walks over to him and tries to lick him and mess with the bag} Isaiah: AUGH! Gaia nooo! Shh! Let go you’re gonna- Benny: ‘saiah? {both turn around and look at a sleepy benny rubbing her eyes} Isaiah: Now look what you did. {he snatches the bag back} Benny: what are you doing? The moons still out...i’m sleepy.. Isaiah: Sorry I woke you. but I'm packing. we need to get on the road as soon as we can if we're going to make good time. {She gets up from her place on the ground and stretches then when she looks at Isaiah she cringes} Isaiah: What? Benny: you look dead. Isaiah: gee thanks… Benny: no I'm serious! you look pale and you got dark circles under your eyes did you even sleep? Isaiah: of course I slept! Benny: then you're not very good at it! Isaiah: I didn't realize sleeping was a skill set. anyway, now that you're up and we're all packed we might as well get moving. we could probably make some good distance from the dark Kingdom by sun up. Benny: do we have to? can we actually wait for sun up? Isaiah: sorry Benny but we have to get going my family is probably really worried about me if they don't already think I'm dead. Benny: they probably do think you're dead. I mean just considering you. Isaiah: aren't you just a ray of sunshine in the mornings? Benny: Well come on if we really are leaving... we can probably stop by the forest and fill up our goatskins in the river. Isaiah: good idea… {Benny stops and looks back at the town before fully exiting the alleyway} Isaiah: you okay? {Benny clutches her necklace} Benny: yeah! let's go! { Benny runs off towards the gate with Gaia; Isaiah shakes his head and smirks before coughing into his hand; when he pulls his hand away it has droplets of a black liquid that is now dripping from his mouth; he also looks startled at the condition of his fingers which have now turned a blackish purple with long black nails growing out of them} Benny: ‘Saiah!! Come onnn!! { Isaiah wipes the black liquid from his mouth and runs off towards her; cut to Zapada sitting in the kitchen sewing something with a cup of tea next to her; Noremoth walks into the room} Noremoth: ahem… {Zapada looks up and looks uncomfortable before going back to her sewing} Noremoth: Oh come on! you can't just pretend that you didn't see me! Zapada: if you had eyes you would notice that I had acknowledged you I just choose not to speak to you. Noremoth: you and about every other woman here… Zapada: hmph! Noremoth: Do you know where Varian went? Zapada: you mean Varian my husband? of course I know where he went he went to the fields. even with everything going on there is still a village to run. Noremoth: ... hey ummm.. your... you're a female right? Zapada:... if I wasn't I'd be concerned as to why I'm pregnant… Noremoth: sorry dumb question. Anyway, how can I get a woman to speak to me if they're angry I've never really dealt with any of this. Zapada: let me guess you're used to using your charm in a problem that involves a woman yes? Noremoth: kind of, yeah. I just want to talk to Catalina but I can't even get her to look at me. Zapada: you're completely hopeless. she wants you to recognize what you did was wrong. if you start with that she should be able to listen. Noremoth: everyone keeps saying this was my fault I wasn't even near Isaiah when he died! Zapada: it doesn't matter if you were near him what matters is you were part of the group that caused it! Poor Catalina probably feels hurt and used! she doesn't just want you to say sorry she wants you to show that you're sorry! Noremoth: how do I do that!? is not just saying it enough? Zapada: how you do it is up to you but- Augh! {Zapada clutches her stomach} Noremoth:...uhhhh...Should I go get someone? you okay? that thing isn’t going to go pop goes the weasel on me right now is it? Zapada:..shut...up… {Noremoth stares at her for a moment before she relaxes} Zapada: phew...Well that was...something... stop looking at me like that I'm perfectly fine. Noremoth: Y- you're sure? seriously I could go get someone. Zapada: I said I am fine... why don't you looking for my husband. Noremoth: R-right...umm.. thanks... for everything... I think. {He turns to leave and zapada rolls her eyes; cut to isaiah walking on the side of the road holding the map; he looks disturbed by the sunlight and tries to shield himself} Isaiah: Is it hot to you? Benny: nope! actually it's kind of nice today. Isaiah: of course it is… Benny: seriously you okay? Isaiah: I'm fine really… Benny: you don't look okay... you still look pale. actually you look like you're about to fall over and die. Isaiah: aren't you blunt.. {Peering off to the side we see Vergus and two cult members hiding in the brush with their wagon} Cult member 1: honestly why did we steal all this stuff if you're only going to hide in the brush every 5 minutes on the road? Cult member 2: she's right you know we do have enough money to buy stuff… we don't exactly have to steal. Vergus: honestly where's the fun in that? think of it as a tax for all that Society has done to us. also that's not the reason we're hiding. Cult member 2: then why are we hiding, Vergus!? Vergus: Shut it! Look! {He points over to Benny and Isaiah walking by} Cult member 1: it's just some kids… should we know something about them? Vergus: I wouldn't believe it if I wasn't seeing it right now...that's the child that holds some of the vessel's power. Cult member 2: what? well let's get him then? honestly, what are we waiting for!? Vergus: patience! we're on a busy road. people are constantly riding past. if we just run up and grab two children on a busy road people will see us as nothing more than kidnappers. Cult member 2: Fair point.. but then what are we supposed to do we can't just let them go and I thought Larkspur said this kid was dead! Vergus: To be honest we thought he was... the kid fell off the side of a cliff. but that doesn't matter now look at the state of him. the magic is finally overthrowing his system he won't be able to hold out much longer. even if he collapses during the day would be too dangerous to grab them in daylight. will wait till the cover of darkness. I'm sure Larkspur will be quite pleased. {They slink back into the brush; cut to an ax coming down on a log; pan over to Varian cutting wood and Noremoth walking over} Noremoth: There you are! Varian: what? Noremoth: I've been looking all over for you and-... what are you doing? Varian: chopping wood, what are you doing? Noremoth: no need to be hostile. I'm just confused. Varian: honestly how can you be confused by the concept of chopping wood!? Noremoth: well... because you're doing it. Varian:... I feel like I should take that as an insult but I am not sure… Noremoth: does everyone here take everything as an insult!? Cat: no just when it comes from you. {Noremoth screams girlishly and jumps back around} Noremoth:...DON’T DO THAT! Kiera: sorry not sorry… {they fist bump} Noremoth:.. as I was saying. the reason I'm confused is Varian is the leader why is he working as well shouldn't he just be supervising his followers? {They all stare at him puzzled} Noremoth: what? Cat: you're not serious... are you? Varian: that's not really how being the leader of the village works. Kiera: I don't normally get into this but even I know that's not how being a leader works. Cat: everyone pulls their weight. being a leader doesn't mean you get some sort of free pass from doing work. Varian: look… {Varian points out all the villagers doing their Fair Share of work} Varian: we all work together to survive. For example, the baker provides food s, Carpenters repair homes and build new ones, and the Millers provide flour and lumber for them, We all work together. Cat: its a cycle… {Cat and Noremoth share eye contact before she turns away} Varian: I'm doing my part. I'm helping supply wood for the village this is my job for now. Noremoth: for now? Varian: I still have to oversee Crop Production and make sure that the borders are safe. then I have to write a letter of my findings On the Border to the king. Noremoth: you do all of this for your village? Varian: everyone pulls their weight. Noremoth: what if... what if someone gets hurt? or sick? Varian: then we find someone to take their job for them. Noremoth: oh... so they're done away with. Varian: WHAT!? Kiera: what the hell… Noremoth: you just said that there were placed! Varian: until they're better! we don't just do away with them! we have a physician that nurses them back to health! we don't just leave a person behind because they get hurt or sick! Cat: is that what your people do? Noremoth:... yes… {They all look mildly shocked} Noremoth: minor injuries are no problem, the same with minor illnesses as well. as long as you're able to get on your feet you're fine. but if you're seriously hurt or ill... Larkspur orders us to… {catalina walks away with her hands up} Noremoth: Cat! wait I-! Varian: Let Her Go... that's pretty messed up to hear. Noremoth: …. as much as I still believe in our cause... perhaps it's time to accept that we're going about it the wrong way. {Varian drops his ax} Varian: what are you saying? Noremoth: our cause was to bring about a new form of society for those trampled by it. you already know that. at first I thought it was the right thing to do. but lately things have been changing. as time goes on we care less and less about the people who join us. we don't care who we hurt. what we have to do. Varian: let me guess, your great leader doesn't agree with your view of things? Noremoth: not even in the slightest. it's going to be the death of us. Varian: your idea is a good one. build a community in which you all work together and which those were down on their luck come to you to join a community of people who are just like them. but like you said the way you're going about it is incredibly wrong. A new Zhan tiri won’t help. it won't bring about a new Authority. it'll make things ten times worse. Noremoth: I think you're right... I hate to admit that and those words feel like they're burning my mouth. but I definitely think you're right. Larkspur has to be stopped. Varian: And Corona can help you stop her... we weren't there for you then let us be there for you now. {Varian unrolls a map onto a stump and hands Noremoth a quill} Varian: but you need to help me in return. {Noremoth looks seriously at him before taking the quill; cut to Varian slamming open the door to the house and running in and past a clearly distressed Zapada} Zapada: I-Iubirea mea? {Cat and Keira walk in with noremoth} Varian: not now Zapada...I have to write a message to the king… Keira: um, V? Varian: I finally have The Hideout that the cult is currently staying at! I need to write a letter to the king saying that I'm heading out immediately. Zapada: CE!? Catalina: Say what now!? Noremoth: this is not what I agreed to! Varian: you finally gave me their location I can't turn this opportunity down now! I'm going to send the letter to the king and he'll have reinforcements right behind me is I'm heading up there. {Zapada whilst clutching her stomach grabs his arm} Zapada: have you gone mad!? you've seen what they can do with a group of their own! you're only one man! they're dealing with one bee and then there's dealing with the whole hive! {Varian yanks his arm away} Varian: you don't understand what they've done to me! to my family! Zapada: AM I NOT ALSO YOUR FAMILY!? Varian: YOU KNOW YOU ARE! Zapada: Yet recently you treat me as if i’m not! Varian: YOU KNOW I CARE FOR YOU! Zapada: it would not kill you to show it! Varian: I’M DOING THIS FOR YOU! Zapada: no! you're doing this because you're filled with hatred! Varian: YOU KNOW WHAT!? I am filled with hatred! I am so filled with hatred for these people you don't even understand! they killed my father, my wife, and my son! there is no way in this world or the next someone like you could ever understand! Zapada: C-Couldn’t I!? Varian: No not in a million years! Zapada: AUGH! {Zapada grabs her stomach and doubles over; Cat and Kiera run over to her; Varian’s look of anger is replaced with shock} Varian: Z-Zapada? Zapada: ...it will cease in a few moments… Catalina: Zapada... have you been dealing with this all day? Zapada: Y-yes…and they get stronger... Catalina: Zapada...I-I think your in labour! {Zapada screams yet again and grips Keira’s arm} Keira: ow Ow OW! Noremoth: w-what do we do!? Catalina: uhh..umm… {Keira smacks Varian} Keira: HEY! Varian! Wife having baby here! Varian: R-right..sorry! Catalina: Come on! Lets get her to a bed! Noremoth: wait I want to help! What can I do!? Zapada: AUUGH! Catalina: Varian, take her up to your room! {Varian picks her up and carries her upstairs with Keira in tow} Catalina: Noremoth, we need towels! And hot water! Also, get some string and something sharp! {Noremoth salutes} Noremoth: Got it! {Cat runs up the stairs and to the room; when she opens the door, Zapada is laying on the bed with Varian holding her hand} Varian: i-it’s gonna be okay! I promise! Zapada: Ngghh!! I’m having trouble believing that! {Noremoth runs in with hot water and other supplies} Noremoth: I got it! Catalina: Thanks, now out! Noremoth: R-right sorry! {He runs out and Varian goes to follow him; Zapada grabs onto his arm} Varian: huh!? Zapada: Please no...i’m still...angry at you...but I’m frightened..please… {Varian hesitates for a moment before propping her up and sitting behind her, letting her rest against him} Catalina: Varian!? Varian: i’m not leaving! Look at her, she’s terrified. Catalina: but- Varian: I’m not asking permission. Catalina:...fine… Varian: it’s gonna be okay… I’m not going anywhere. {Zapada weakly smiles but it quickly fades and she screams again; cut to the countryside; Isaiah slowly tags along behind Benny} Benny: you okay ‘saiah? {Isaiah doesn’t answer; his vision looks blurry; suddenly The whites of his eyes turned pink and his irises turn a bright neon green; he collapses} Benny: ‘SAIAH! {She runs over to him} Isaiah: *in a deep evil voice* DON’T TOUCH ME! {she jumps back; he struggles to get up but only collapses and pants exhausted} Isaiah: grr...my body is weak… {more black liquid pours from his mouth; his eyes flicker in colour and his body twitches; he groans in pain; cult members watch from the thick brush; eventually, he passes out} Benny: Isaiah!? {she whimpers and checks his breathing then sighs in relief; she slowly drags him off the road and into the soft grass; she goes into their bag and takes out a small soup pot and starts setting up a fire; she then looks over at the forest} Benny: I'll be back... that’s a promise. {she walks into the forest and starts looking around; she looks over and sees a small stream; A turtle sits on by it; Benny picks up a rock} Benny:...sorry mister turtle… {She throws the rock; cut to Zapada letting out a scream of pain} Catalina: You’re almost there, Zapada! Varian: i-is she okay? Catalina: she’s fine Varian. This isn’t exactly a pleasant feeling. Keira: I can attest to that from what i’m seeing… {Zapada shouts and Noremoth flinches outside the room} Catalina: You’re almost done! Just one more time! I swear! {Varian wipes her forehead and kisses her temple before giving her a reassuring smile; Zapada’s lip quivers and she tightly shuts her eyes as she yells out one last time before flumping back against Varian’s chest; a cry fills the room} Catalina: YOU DID IT! You did it Zapada! It’s a boy! {she holds up the black-haired infant and Zapada lets out a half cry half chuckle; Varian smiles and laughs with her; Catalina wraps the baby and hands him over to them} Zapada: ei, bine ai venit, baietelul meu.. {Varian tears up and caresses his son’s face; Cat pulls Keira out of the room} Varian: he’s perfect… Zapada: he has your hair… Varian: and your nose. What a day...Zapada? Zapada: hmm? Varian: I’m sorry...i’m so sorry for..everything… {she kisses him} Zapada: I have already forgiven you. let us not focus on that…look at this beautiful boy that we've just brought into the world. what should we call you? Varian: oh man you're right we never really did decide on a name. Zapada: think I might have an idea... Sterling. Varian: Sterling? like sterling sil-... it's perfect… {Cut to Cat washing her hands downstairs; Noremoth walks in the room} Noremoth: ... nice work today. Cat: thanks… Noremoth: no really... none of us had any idea what to do. you took the helm and you steered us out of the storm. {Cat turns to walk away but Noremoth grabs her hand} Noremoth: Catalina I am trying. I know you hate me for what I did. you have every right to be angry with me. please realize that I am trying. damn it, I'm not going to stop trying. I know what I did was bad. and maybe I don't deserve it but all I'm asking is that you give me the chance to prove myself. Catalina:... fine... maybe I am being a bit unfair. but you can't really blame me. I thought you were my friend. I trusted you. even if you weren't the direct cause of it, somebody died because I trusted you! I should have warned the king that you were there. Noremoth: I never meant for him to die. it was never the plan. I thought I was doing what was right. I truly did. I'm going to be honest right now. I really do like you and the last thing on earth I wanted to do was hurt you. I'm just hoping that even if you are still mad at me can we start over? or is it too late for me to apologize to you? {Catalina looks over at him} Catalina: you know this might just be the adrenaline of me having just delivered a baby talking... but alright... but I want you to know it's going to be a long time before I can ever trust you. but I'll give you the chance to prove yourself in the time being. Noremoth: that's all I'm asking. {he pulls her into a hug; she hesitantly hugs back; cut to Benny stirring a pot of stew} Benny: I got everything from the forest! I'm sure you're going to love it! everyone loves Turtles stew!... I think... never really cooked before. {isaiah groans and rolls over to face her} Isaiah: I'm sure it will be great..sorry... crappy time to decide to get sick huh? Benny: yep pretty much… Isaiah: umm... Benny? what is even in that?

Benny: ummm.. a turtle... some tubers that I found... Wild Onion... also a bit of wild garlic. Isaiah:...better than nothing. {Benny continues stirring the pot but then looks up and gasps} Benny: ‘Saiah!!! {Isaiah turns around to Vergus grabbing him and the screen goes black} {END CREDITS}

#tangled #rapunzel’s tangled adventure #matters of the heart #tangled the series #fanfic #catalina and keira #Varian #zapada #varian x oc #MotH #Noremoth #TTS #RTA #tts oc #rta oc #Isaiah

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ella-se-vuelve-loca · 4 years

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Secret Santa | Erick Brian Colón (4th Day of 🎄)

I’ve got more fluff coming your way guys! I hope you enjoy! 💕

(Credits to the owner for this picture!!!)

Christmas is a wonderful time of the year. It’s the time to be with family, friends and the people who love you. It’s also a time where people can express their feelings for each other… if only it were that easy for me.

(Y/N)… I’ve been pinning over her for a few years now.

It’s not easy telling someone you like them for the fear of being rejected… but what if we become something more? I have to take this chance to tell her. I looked up and saw Richard holding a drink in his hand and he tried to get everyone’s attention.

“Bienvenidos a todos!” Everyone quieted down as their attention now turned to him. “Gracias por venir a mi casa. I know you guys are excited to get this party started. I know you are, that’s for sure.” He laughed as he mentioned over to Chris.

“Ayeee..” Chris held up his drink in the air as he laughed. “Anyways, uh gift exchanges will happen later on in the night. So go on and chat, get a drink, some food, ya know what I’m sayin’? Haha I hope you all have a great time and let’s get this started.” Everyone cheered as he went to go walk over to his brother Yashua. Music started playing and people started conversing with one another.

I looked around and saw smiles on everyone’s faces. But there’s one smile I didn’t see… where is (Y/N)? She’s not getting a drink… or food… or talking with Joel… I don’t see her.

“Ella todovía no está aquí.” I looked to my side and saw Zabdiel standing next to me. “Quien?” I asked and he just laughed. “Erick…” He just raised his eyebrows and had a knowing look on his face. “Sabes de quien estoy hablando..” Heat quickly spread through my face when I realized that I may not have been as discreet as I thought with my feelings. “She texted me a few minutes ago. She’ll be here in a bit.”

“How did you figure it out?” I asked him. “It wasn’t that hard. Seeing how you two act differently around each other... I put one and one together and well, you know..”

I looked down at the gift in my hands. I really hope she likes it.

“No te preocupes, Erick. She’ll be here soon and, oh I don’t know, maybe something will blossom between the two of you.” He smiled and took a sip of his drink. “I don’t know if I can do this.” I spoke and he shook his head. “Hermano, it’s been a few years. If you don’t say something now, someone will come in and swoop her away from you.”

We talked for a few minutes more and for a moment, I almost forgot what I was nervous about. Then… she walked in. She looked beautiful.

I could feel my heart pounding at the thought of me actually telling her tonight. What would she say? If she didn’t feel the same, would we still even be friends after that?

She looked around for a moment and when her eyes landed on mine, she gave me the biggest smile, showing off her pearly whites. “Go to her..” Zabdiel spoke, before slightly pushing me forward. I made my way over to where she was and greeted her with a hug.

“Hey, you. It’s been a while.” She spoke as he returned my hug and I just laughed. “It sure has.” We pulled away and I noticed her Christmas bag in her hands. “Who’s it for?” I mentioned down to her gift as she lifted it up. “It’s for Joel and don’t ask me what it is haha it’s a surprise.” She smiled and looked down at the box in my hands. “Who’s your gift for?”

“O – Oh um.. it’s um.. it’s for someone really special.” I missed the way her face fell slightly by me looking over at the box that’s actually meant for her. “Well, I’m sure they’ll love it because it’s from you.”

While we were too busy talking, we failed to notice Richard and Chris looking over at us. “What do you say?” Chris asked as he took a sip from his drink. “I think he’ll tell her before the end of the night.” Richard spoke as he nodded his head and turned to look at his friend. “Really? I don’t think he’ll say it. Not tonight, at least.”

“What do you say we make a little wager on this?” Richard raised his eyebrows and Chris held a smile on his face. “A wager? Like what, 20 bucks or something?” He nodded. “Sure. One of us is about to become 20 bucks richer and that person is gonna be me.” He chuckled and held out his hand. “Okay. Deal.” He shook his hand and the deal was set.

We talked for a few minutes before she left to go and place her gift on the table, where other boxes and bags were, and got caught up in a conversation with somebody. I looked around and saw some people doing karaoke, others were getting themselves things to eat and everyone was honestly just having a good time.

I looked over at her and saw her talking with some random guy I didn’t know and couldn’t help but feel a bit jealous. I know we’re not together, but seeing her with him really made me wish we were. He seemed a little too close for comfort, so I stood up, grabbed my “secret Santa” gift and walked outside for a few moments. It wasn’t that cold, so being out here wasn’t really a problem.

I sighed and looked down at the box in front of me. Maybe I should’ve gotten something different, no? I mean, she deserves much more than something as simple as this… but maybe sometimes, the best gifts in life are simple and when they come from the heart.

“Hey.” I heard someone slide open the door and walked outside. I turned and was met with her, a smile immediately forming on my face. “Hey.”

“What are you doing out here?” She asked and closed the door behind her as she walked closer to me. “Oh no reason. I just needed to come out and get away from the music real quick.” She nodded her head and stood next to me. “I see you have your secret Santa gift.” I looked down and nodded. “Oh, yeah uh I guess I do.”

“Who’s the special someone?”

“What?”

“Earlier when I asked, you said it was for someone special so… who is it?”

I held up the box and slowly handed it to her. “You.”

“Me?” I nodded. “You were my secret Santa this year… I hope you like it.” She opened the box carefully and took out what was inside. “Erick, is this – ” I nodded and she laughed. “You always end up taking my hoodies because you’re cold 24/7, so I figured I’d give you my favorite one.” She took it out of the box and held the piece of fabric close to her chest. “I – I know it’s not much, but – ”

“Oh my God, I love it!” She quickly put the hoodie on and twirled around, showing it off. “Thank you so much, Erick!” She leaned in and gave me a hug. “Now you’ll always have a piece of me when I’m away on tour..”

We pulled away and she grabbed the box once more, only now noticing there’s one more thing inside. “Oh, what’s this?”

The card! I forgot to take the card out!

“Nothing no it’s nothing! It’s just a simple card, you know? Saying Merry Christmas and all that.”

“Well, if it’s just a simple card, it doesn’t matter if I look at it, no? I wanna see what lousy card you got me this year.” She smiled and opened the envelope. “You really don’t need to look at it right now..”

“Nonsense! I love reading these cards haha..” She opened the card as I looked away in embarrassment.

“Oh my gosh, really? This picture?” She laughed. It was a photo of the two of us when we were at a random store and we both wore really funny hats and made a silly face. “Yeah haha..” She moved the picture off to the side as she said out loud what I wrote in the card.

“La major photo que tengo, es aquella en la cuál sonrío por ti. Esta vida es mía, pero este corazón es suyo. Prefiero un minuto contigo a una eternidad sin ti. Te amo, (Y/N) – por siempre y para siempre.”

It became quiet as she read over the words and I just so badly wanted to run away and forget that this moment in time even happened. “Erick… I..”

“No necesitas decir nada, (Y/N). Por favor… let’s just pretend that this never happened. I don’t want to lose our friendship over this because you mean too much to me..” She walked closer until we were face to face. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to fall in love with you..”

She slowly wrapped her arms around my neck and a confused look spread across my face. “(Y/N), what are you – ”

She then pressed her lips against my own and I kid you not, it literally felt like we were the only two people here on earth. I hesitantly placed my hands on her waist and held her close to me as she smiled into our short sweet kiss. She pulled away and looked up at me.

“Um.. what – what was that?” She chuckled and answered. “In case you couldn’t tell, I’m in love with you too, you dork. I’ve been waiting for you to make a move for the longest now.”

I chuckled and cupped her cheek with my hand, rubbing small circles. “I’m sorry that I kept you waiting, princesa.” I leaned my forehead against hers and let out a sigh. “It’s okay.. it was worth the wait.” She smiled.

Inside, was Chris and Richard looking at the two lovebirds from the window, as Richard now held out his hand. “Pay up, bro. You lost the bet.” He sighed and took out a 20 from his wallet and gave it to him. “Damnit, I really thought he wouldn’t say anything until the whole party was over.”

“Nah, look at them. It was bound to happen tonight, one way or another.” He smiled as he put the extra 20 bucks in his pocket. “Yeah yeah whatever.” Chris laughed and continued to look at the younger boy, who he considered his younger brother, confess his feelings to that “someone special”.

“I guess it was bound to happen one way or another tonight, man.”

#Alondra’s 12 Days of Christmas #cncowners #cnco #cnco imagines #erick brian colon #erick brian colon imagines #erick christmas imagine #christmas imagines #happy holidays

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