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guav · 2 years

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Hiii!!! Can I request a girlfriend Rindou reader, where Tenjiku doesn't even know he has a girlfriend like Ran doesn't even know, and so she meets Tenjiku, and she can fight really really good and she's like PRETTY PRETTY and like how...? Did RINDOU EVEN GET HER? And she stars to catch other members eyes ;)

ᥫ᭡ for haitani rindou and tenjiku, WAREHOUSE ROMCOM.

in which you insist on meeting your boyfriend's current gang and fuck, you definitely just knocked out one of their captains.

𔘓 it's my first time writing for some of these guys so i'm sorry if they're ooc D: you used she/her and mentioned girlfriend so i'll be using those for this fic :] around 3.1k words of chaos.

“rin, how come i’ve never met any of your friends?”

the timing doesn’t allow for a deep conversation. rindou’s too busy messing with his laptop, one earbud immersing him in whatever program was running. meanwhile, a catalog resting on your lap took half your attention.

as expected, the question is around the fifth priority in rindou’s head. “buncha smelly thugs, you wouldn’t like ‘em.”

“and you’re not in that demographic?” you idly munch on some snacks you scavenged from his pantry.

“no, i’m not.” rindou scoffs like you just spat on his entire bloodline. “i’m your handsome boyfriend who you love very, very much.”

oh, this sweater has a really nice discount. “what about your brother? i've never seen him either, i’m starting to think you’re actually an only child.”

he’s gonna pretend like his comment going ignored didn’t sting a little.

“you should be grateful, once you meet ran you’ll be cursed with a killer headache for the rest of your life.”

somehow it doesn’t seem as bad, nor does it deter you in the slightest. whine all he wants, rindou loves his brother. he knows it, and so do you.

“rinnie.” a vein could very well pop out his head at the dumb nickname. “are you embarrassed of me?”

(you know rindou would kiss the floor you walk on. still? good leverage).

his typing halts, left earbud joining the right to hang around his neck. a thousand times of the same coercion tactics should have prepared him better. should have. be as it may, rindou’s heartbeat stops for a minute.

you’re the one good thing he’s got going on, why would he ne embarrassed of you? no, never, he loves you too much.

not like he’d willingly admit to it, though. “a little” his typing resumes, this time a little more attentive to the situation. safety measures and all that.

seems he’s not budging. the playful banter turns into a bitter taste in your mouth. “rude.”

rindou doesn’t like your sudden silence. it cuts at his facade like the dullest of knives—painfully slow.

he can’t win against you. if there's one more thing he hates more than sweaty gym equipment is getting on your bad side.

“i’m not embarrassed, you’re just too pretty for them.” it’s not a lie.

“flattery won’t save you from sleeping on the couch.”

he’s in his own home, it's his couch and bed. “if i take you to meet them once,” rindou emphasizes the word, “will you be pleased?”

you would, “a little.”

works for him.

rindou groans like the sore loser he is, yet hands you an earbud. “whatever, don’t come cryin’ when you realize they're actually lame."

secretly, he prays you don't like them better than him.

"they're your friends—or gang, i'm guessing—i would never think bad of them."

aren't you just a godsend? rindou breathes a chuckle, pressing play. whatever wrinkles remained on his face washed away when you bobbed your head to his mix. he forgives you for being a pain in his ass.

everything’s fair in love and war; you came and conquered with ease. as implicit as he fights to keep it, rindou's a big softie for you.

you lean over to kiss his temple, maybe you’ll buy that sweater you saw for this special occasion.

just this once, punctuality would be the death of you.

the only street light a couple meters away flickers every two minutes, you’ve got no service, and the run-down warehouse you’re leaning on is the shadiest spot rindou’s asked you to meet at. seriously, what’s his issue?

“little late for someone like you to be out alone, isn’t it?” couldn’t have said it better, voice you've never heard before.

..wait.

with a gulp, you turn to meet whoever was talking to you. it’s not the least comforting when you have to look up to see his face. tall, weird eyebrows, and overall menacing.

for once in your goddamn life, think!

“yeah—i mean, it must suck to be alone in the dead of night.” you laugh nervously, as if to quell the goosebumps rising in your arms. “not me though, nope.”

mochi squints his eyes. you can’t be serious, right? there’s no one else in the entire block. “‘s that so?”

one gulp to hush your anxiety. “yup, my boyfriend’s waiting for me, if i don’t show he’ll come looking,” great, now you’re shaking.

he’s not gonna buy it. this is the end, death by two hands the size of your head. truly tragic.

“only a shitty boyfriend would leave you all alone like this,” he huffs. it’s true, part of him wants to wait and chew out whoever this man is.

safe to say, you have to agree. rindou is a dead man as soon as he shows his face, and it won’t be at the hands of this monster of a guy.

blame it on your current hyperfocus on every little thing (something’s gotta make up for your obvious lack of fight or flight) you can’t help but notice he’s wearing all red—is that a gang uniform?

funny how hope goes out as quick as that.

rindou’s uniform is most definitely not red. the fight bound to unleash is already brewing inside your mind, you’re not even sure if rindou can take a hit from this guy. if he ever gets here, only one of these two would walk away.

you have to act, fast.

“it’s not safe, what’s a thing like you gonna do if—”

he makes the mistake of looking into your eyes. they’re wide, like a deer caught in headlights; innocent.

mochizuki’s second mistake is not noticing the right hook you swing.

the light flickers again, and one of tenjiku’s heavenly kings falls unconscious.

it goes without saying you fucking panic.

“i didn't mean to—shit!” you’re kneeling beside his body, checking for pulse. of course there's still a pulse, there’s no way you could actually kill a guy like that. “i’m so, so sorry.”

he didn’t even try to hurt you. are you the monster here?

initially, you were worried rindou would be the one to start a fight if he saw you cornered by the guy. never would you have thought the culprit would be none other than yourself.

quickly, your sweater becomes a makeshift pillow—the least you could do for knocking the living daylights out of him. though you do cringe when the brand-new fabric soaks up all the dirt on the ground.

it’s okay, surely once he wakes again you can explain you didn’t mean to hit him. you were aiming for… a fly? a mosquito? those can carry deadly diseases. sure, let’s go with that.

kakucho doesn’t know what he just walked into.

there’s a stranger kneeling beside mochi whispering in a fret to herself, something about the last recorded case of dengue fever in japan. right, he was also unconscious.

soon, you notice him too. particularly his red uniform.

there’s a brief pause in which you just stare at each other.

come to think of it, you’d probably kick the bucket in these clothes, and you wouldn’t mind. dying with these on would be something you can live with—or die, rather? idioms are dumb. point is, you picked a really nice outfit for your supposed date with rindou.

rindou haitani, who somehow managed to be late enough to miss you picking a fight with another gang member.

the silence is deadly.

“you’re… his friend, right?” cautiously, you’re the one to break it. “i figured he'd appreciate a pillow to enjoy his nap.”

so why was his cheek painted a raging red? god, that’s a nasty bruise.

kakucho blinks twice. then, he looks around, trying to discern any other lifeform in close vicinity. any possible culprit. anything to explain what the fuck is going on.

“are you alone?” the question is courtesy, he already knows the answer.

“no.” maybe he didn’t know after all.

he narrows his eyes, and you rush to fix whatever mistake you made. “my boyfriend—and friends, so many friends, are waiting on me. they’ll know if i don’t show up.”

you’re nervous. kakucho steps closer, and you’re quick to jump on your feet. “you’re right, i should probably go—”

“did you do this?”

“do what?”

as if it wasn’t obvious, he waves his arm at his fallen friend. “this.”

it’s been a long night. you’re frustrated, terrified out of your goddamn mind, and you can’t help the panic tears that start to form.

“i’m so sorry!” you bow, trying to hold back from outright sobbing in front of the delinquent. “he—i was alone, and he came around and-and started talking to me and i just, i got scared!”

kakucho blinks, again.

“i didn’t mean to hurt him, i’m sure he’s a great guy, i was just jumpy, and fuck i didn't mean to cause any trouble.”

tears run down your cheeks, mourning both your sweater as a breeze rolls by and your wasted last moments of youth. great, you’re making it awkward.

sometimes instincts take over, and kakucho is unsure why he’s shrugging off his tenjiku coat. neither does he have an answer as to why he reached to drape it over your shoulders.

“c’mon, just breathe.”

you do. you take a deep, deep breath, and your problems start to lessen. not actually though, the other gang member is still very much on the ground. however, it's nice not feeling in immediate danger anymore.

kakucho settles down next to mochi, and pats the ground next to him. “sit.”

last thing he tasked you ended up helping, so you decide to listen once more. a respectable distance away from him, you sit.

he’s not sure where to start. there’s so many questions he needs the answer to.

(how did you take out mochi? how did you know the exact warehouse where the higher-ups were meeting tonight?)

but he keeps quiet.

either way, any explanations coming from you would be interrupted by hiccuping, and he didn’t want to risk any more crying from you.

“am i in trouble?”

the answer should be obvious. kakucho knows you’re aware of the mess you’re in now. still, there must be something missing. “i can count with one hand the people who’ve been able to take mochi out.”

so that’s his name. your gaze lands on him, peacefully resting. it’s a nice name.

“so i need you to be honest,” kakucho tries his best to speak gently. “did you do this?”

he takes in a sharp breath when you nod.

“...how?”

the strained chuckle that leaves your lips makes his heart skip a beat or two. “i just, y’know, hit him.”

“but, how?” the mere thought is baffling to him.

“i can show you if you want.” you bite back. it’s playful. now you can cross-out befriending a random delinquent from your bucket list.

“never thought i’d see kakucho flirting.” a new voice enters the array. “didn’t know he had it in him.”

white hair flows freely, unfazed by the unresponsive commander beside the two. his presence exudes commands without diction. explain, now.

kakucho’s posture stiffens, and he’s quick to get back on his feet. “i arrived and mochi was knocked out, seemingly by,” he pauses to look at you. “uh, what’s your name?”

you match his movements, standing up and completely ignoring his question. “i’m really sorry about that, i didn’t know he was—”

izana interrupts the meaningless spiel, “your name, what is it?"

shivers crawl up your spine. a phantom would be more merciful with the frighten. so you answer his question.

and just like that, poor mochi is forgotten. "i like your name, it's nice on the ears."

you know better than to grimace at the compliment (was it really?) "i should get going, i don't want to be in your hair any longer."

izana follows your every movement with violet eyes. not a word is uttered, just a plastered, quite unsettling smile on his face as acknowledgment.

right, your idiot boyfriend. one quick glance at the no signal on your phone serves as a reminder you're stranded.

a jingle brings you back to reality. it's izana, tilting his head. "what's wrong?"

well, you're certain all trains back home stopped doing rounds about half an hour ago, and there’s no way you can catch a ride from either of these two.

(the guy with the scar would probably do it, he seems kind. the urge to squish his cheeks like a grandma would is intense.)

"actually," an awkward laugh makes up for the nerves rattling within. "i.. can't leave, not yet."

his patience is wearing thin, you presume. "is that so?"

from behind you, kakucho shifts. would they even go for a one on two? when you're the one wearing heels?

"i told kakucho—" you glance back to confirm you remembered his name correctly, biting back a smile when he looks surprised. "—i was waiting for my friends and boyfriend, specifically at this exact, dirty warehouse."

izana doesn't look satisfied.

"half of that was a lie, it's just my boyfriend i'm supposed to meet." this doesn't seem to be getting any better.

he's thinking about something.

"i know i shouldn't have lied, but it's basic street smarts! can't blame me for that."

he steps closer, seemingly having resolved whatever idea was brewing in his head.

you're close to going on another rant on street safety, or maybe going for another swing, but izana makes you stop dead in your tracks. "do you wanna be kakucho's girlfriend?"

smelly thugs was cutting it short, this guy was bizarre as fuck.

kakucho is grateful you don’t have eyes on the back of your head. tenjiku’s number two, overwhelmed with a barrage of embarrassment and murderous tendencies for his one and only king.

(was he that obvious? were his fleeting glances that easy to notice?)

izana on the other hand had only just begun his career as a salesman. “kakucho here is a great guy—the definition of a gentleman and a picture-perfect servant.”

odd way of selling someone for a boyfriend. you’d have a few pointers and even additions to his pitch, except you literally have a boyfriend, and you’ve told him so.

you check for the hour. maybe you’ll consider his proposal if kakucho isn’t horrid with meeting on time. “go on.”

two heavenly kings have yet to show their faces, another is knocked out, and the last is close to digging himself an early grave.

“so you’ll date kakucho then?”

has he heard a single word you’ve spoken? “i have a boyfriend.”

“it’s a yes or no question, preferably yes or yes.”

it’s better if you ignore the vague implication of a threat behind his statement. “rain check?”

that seems to please him. “i’m izana,” he offers his hand for a handshake. “pleasure doing business with you.”

“cool.” you’re absolutely sure he’s missing a screw in his head, but it’s funny.

“too late to join the roster?” to absolutely no one’s surprise, it’s a new voice joining this sick joke of a night. you’re amazed at the fact four men have managed to show up unannounced to your date, and none are the one you're actually going out with.

izana turns to meet the new addition, eyebrow raising at the fact it’s only half the duo.

“he’s finding a spot to park, sent me to check on that one over there.” one hand points to you, the other toys with a dual-colored braid.

he’s clad in a black uniform—just like rindou’s. everything's even more confusing now, hurray you!

kakucho, who’s more than grateful to leave the past conversation behind, begins to process the situation. “you know ran?”

“ran?” puzzle pieces are slowly coming together. “as in haitani? ran haitani?”

the man himself lets out a low whistle. “sorry man, only been here for at least half a minute and i’m already takin' the spotlight—nothing personal.”

that’s not how you meant it at all. “no-”

“kakucho gave her his jacket.” izana you are not helping.

“that has nothing to do with this.” kakucho pleads to everything under the sun for his boss to just, shut up. just this once.

“ran, where’s ri-”

“see? already reeling back to me, i think i've got more game than you.” rindou was right, he’s a living headache.

izana tugs at your blouse. “you already said yes on kakucho, no take backs.”

“that never happened.” kakucho, angel on earth, everyone.

something boils from within. "i have a boyfriend."

“you’re too pretty for him.” he blurts without an ounce of hesitation in his body. it’s amusing how ran said the same thing as rindou—they really are family. still, no. does he even know you're dating his brother?

the situation is getting out of hand, your patience is being tested, and you just want to go home at this point.

at this rate you’re sending ran home with half his braids in your fist, izana is getting his arm put in a cast if he utters another word, and kakucho is getting his jacket back and a pat on the head.

there are a few reasons you’re dating rindou haitani. among the perks lies the telepathic bond you two have—whatever you think, rindou is already doing. which is exactly why ran is suddenly getting his braid damn near ripped out by gloved hands.

“wanna say that again?” rindou holds the hair tightly in a fist, he’s fuming. “c'mon, don’t pussy out now.”

the three of you gawk at the scene. kakucho and you in shock, izana in awe. the man of the hour arrived, and everything took a turn for the worse.

the youngest haitani has always followed his older brother like a best friend and inspiration. it’s a relationship based on respect for the other and no one else. sure, they have disagreements, but rindou admires no one more than ran.

the haitani brothers, joined at the hip by crime and blood, now tearing each other apart in the pettiest of ways.

ran, tallest, oldest, arguably strongest, hisses in pain by the harsh tugging. “why dontcha rip it out while y’re fucking at it? whatever got into you?”

izana pokes a finger into your side for the second time. “you know rindou?”

your eyes are glued on the brothers. ran keeps whining, rindou is professing his undying and very much ongoing love for you. “yeah, we’re dating.”

a pause. a long one at that.

“...why?” he sounds puzzled.

rindou screams insults at ran and soon drags his hair-stylist through the mud too, for some reason. “what do you mean by that?”

izana blinks at you like the answer is obvious. “is he like, forcing you or something?”

“what?”

kakucho, who’s been silently witnessing the convo fights to stifle his laughter. it’s of no use, not when you’re throwing his jacket back at his face to shush him. it’s a strong throw, sending him backwards a step or two.

izana thinks you’re funny, too. “you are too pretty for him.”

⠀⠀⠀⠀navi.⠀＆⠀m.list.⠀＆⠀send me an ask!

#ok i had fun writing this one #rindou x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #tenjiku x reader #izana x reader #ran x reader #kakucho x reader #rindou haitani #izana kurokawa #kakucho hitto #ran haitani #tokyo rev x reader #tr x reader #tenjiku #ROGUEL1KE #fem reader #female reader

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purple-babygirl · 3 months

Text

don't call me daddy

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x little!f!reader

Word count: 4,826

Summary : In a world where littles are openly themselves, they volunteer to help and be helped by willing caregivers. In spite of himself, Bucky finds himself stuck with one and to keep the nagging away, he has to learn how to be around her with everything that that entails.

Warnings: Bucky is mean, a couple of insults, mistreatment of age regressed reader, crying, mentions of hot liquid getting on skin, crying, mentions of the r-word and the s-word, Bucky's PTSD & nightmares

A/N: so this is an idea I've had for forever and I finally mustered up enough courage to share it with you guys. Please enjoy and let me know what you think and if you have anything you'd like to suggest for the upcoming parts. I love you 💜

“This sounds stupid,” Bucky grumbled when Sam suggested the program.

“It's not stupid, Buck and it works!”

“If it worked for you doesn't mean it's gonna work for me, Sam. You have patience and it's in your nature to want to take care of people.”

“Says the one who looked out for Steve all his life!”

“Steve was one person and he was actually dumb, he wasn’t acting like he can't fucking feed himself!”

“They're not acting. They're age regressed.” Sam tried to remain calm.

“What does that even mean!”

“It means—”

“You know what? I don't care because I'm not doing it.” Bucky smiled before leaving Sam's house and going back to hide in his own.

But Sam was persistent. He was determined to get Bucky help that would actually help. So he suggested the program to Bucky's therapist and before Bucky could punch him, she was having him sign the contract.

“Sam, I don't wanna meet anyone. It's not gonna work anyway so let's just pick any of them.”

“They're not service dogs, Bucky!”

“Really? Because that's exactly what it sounds like they are to me.”

Sam glared at him, elbowing his side as a short lady with a kind smile approached them.

Bucky didn't pay her much attention. He didn't want to be here and he didn't care what she was reciting.

Only thing that caught his attention was when she asked him what age he would prefer so she could introduce him to a group of littles.

He was dreading this. It was stupid.

“…what are you looking for?” Bucky caught the end of her talk with Sam.

“I don't know, someone who can talk like they're not retarded,” he answered the lady rudely and she smiled in understanding when Sam apologized.

“They're not retarded. All of them are perfectly healthy and okay. They're age regressed,” she told Bucky and he rolled his eyes so hard he felt they might never return from the back of his head.

He hated those two words. Age regressed, what the fuck did that even mean?

“Maybe we can meet some of the littles who are not so young, like 6 year olds?” Sam suggested and she nodded, leading them to a building with long corridors and lots of doors.

Bucky could see adult women and men playing with dolls, sleeping with pacifiers and some of them even had other people feeding them.

What the hell was this place? Did they expect him to do that? With a person perfectly capable of handling his or her own self but chooses not to?! Was this the 21st century? Because he didn’t like it very much.

The lady led them inside her office and got a group of files out of some organized drawer. She'd barely laid them out on the table before Bucky was slamming his finger on one.

“We'll take this one,” he said, staring at the lady in disinterest.

“But you haven't even seen them,” Sam said between his teeth, kicking his leg under the table. He wished Bucky cared enough to do this right.

“I've seen enough. I pick this file and I wanna leave,” Bucky seethed back.

“This is Doll. She's one of the softest littles I've ever met and I think you've made a great choice, Mr. Barnes.”

“You call her Doll?”

“Yes, real names aren't revealed for the privacy of our littles unless they decide otherwise and she chose the name herself when she joined us.” The lady smiled kindly, making Bucky even madder.

“Whatever, let's get this over with. Tell her to come so we could leave.”

“Mr. Barnes, I have to admit your attitude towards this is very concerning and I fear I cannot risk the peace of our littles who confide in us to find them safe partners! Like I said she's one of the gentlest and I need to know you're going to treat her right before I even let you meet her!” The woman voiced her concerns and Bucky sighed.

He couldn't blow this now. He's come far enough with this whole process and if he went back to his therapist like that she was definitely going to get out her dreadful notebook.

He had to take this girl home tonight or else they would make him go through this same process over and over again.

“I'm sorry. I'm just a little confused, I guess.” Bucky scratched his beard.

“That's okay.” She smiled again, “most of our visitors are, but you can always ask.”

“Well— what is wrong with them?!” He exclaimed, gesturing with his hands in the air.

Sam kicked him again and glared.

“What? She said I could ask!”

“It's okay,” she told Sam with a chuckle.

“Nothing is wrong with them. Them regressing in age is their way to cope and relieve anxiety or deal with other mental illnesses such as traumatic experiences, or even just stress. It's a freer, calmer state of mind for them to return to when it's no longer easy for them to be big.”

Her calm, kind manner while explaining this made Bucky even angrier inside. This wasn’t normal and they should all stop acting like it was.

“So they're supposed to be helping me with my issues but they're dealing with their own issues?”

Like he originally thought, this was stupid.

“Yes, it's a mutual helping program.” The lady confirmed.

“Oh. And what's this Doll's issue?”

“Doll reverts to age regression as a coping mechanism for her depression and PTSD. She's been doing great lately actually!”

“Is she suddenly gonna go grownup or?” Bucky continued, involuntarily asking every question on his mind.

“No, like I said, Doll reverts to little space for the comfort and safety of it and while she can coax herself out of her headspace, she rarely ever chooses to.”

“But she can?”

“Yes. But I need to tell you, Mr. Barnes, that this is not why you're here.” She reminded, wanting to ensure the safety of self expression for the little one.

“I know.”

“I also need you to promise me to be a good caregiver for her. She's a sweet girl and I can guarantee she will be good for you.”

“I promise.” Bucky knew he was lying but he couldn’t care less about his honesty at the moment.

“And it’s never acceptable to make fun of her or try to force her into a more grownup headspace. That only makes it worse and her mind regresses further.”

“So what she becomes younger?!” He was trying so hard not to get frustrated, why make him!

“That's correct.” She nodded.

“How young?” Sam asked.

“The youngest she's ever been is 4.”

“Oh.” Great. Just great.

“She can still talk just fine,” she reassured them, knowing Bucky didn't want anyone who couldn't talk or seemed 'retarded'.

“Okay, good.” Bucky nodded, wanting to get out of the place as soon as possible.

“Would you like to meet Doll now or do you wanna take a look at the rest of the files?”

“I'll meet her.” Bucky stood up, hand already at the doorknob.

The meeting thing went relatively well and Bucky was surprised the girl wasn't intimidated by his frown or intense stare. She was mesmerized by the metal arm even.

He wasn't going to lie to himself, he still thought this whole thing was dumb but he needed to convince his therapist and everyone that he was okay again so they'd leave him alone.

She didn’t ask him any questions or have any conditions. She just stared at him with wide, sparkly eyes.

A minute later he heard the girl whisper her agreement to the short lady.

Apparently, she was big enough to make the decision to leave with a strange man she didn't know but not enough to properly dress herself or sleep without a damn toy.

Bucky was relieved anyway; glad she was idiotic enough to choose him so he wouldn't have to meet with any other 'littles'. And she wasn't ugly to look at either.

The old lady had a word with her privately before she was packing a bag and they were on their way to Bucky’s place.

“Where do I stay, daddy?”

Bucky hasn’t said a word to her since they’d left the institution. He made her carry her bag from the car to the elevator and from the elevator inside the apartment. He wasn’t going to be nobody’s maid.

She was physically capable and that didn’t need a professional to see it.

“I don’t know, figure it out.” Bucky shrugged, kicking his shoes off by the door and stepping inside.

She followed his lead and neatly placed her shoes at the corner by the door as well.

“Where do you want me to stay, daddy?” she asked politely, wanting to make him comfortable, seeing he was the owner of the house.

He was making her a little nervous.

This wasn’t his energy back at the institution and she tried her best not to get scared.

“I don't want you. I never did,” Bucky told her the minute she sat on his couch, throwing his keys on the wooden coffee table, “We're just gonna pretend your presence here is changing something and then I'm gonna return you.”

I don't want you.

She's definitely heard that before.

Return her. Like she was some sort of item. She wasn't what he wanted and it cracked her trained-to-love heart.

“Yes, daddy,” she replied brokenly, tears threatening to spill over the rims of her eyes.

Nothing was worse than feeling unwanted.

“Don't call me that.” Bucky snapped.

“B— But you're my daddy.” She was seriously confused now. Why would he pick her if he didn’t want this?

“I'm not your anything and stop acting so small, you look grown up enough to me.”

Why did he take her home if he didn’t like her and didn’t want to be her Daddy?

“I'm not acting.” Tears rolled down her cheeks and she felt more insecure than ever.

“Yeah, yeah, you're age regressed. Whatever, just don't call me that. I'm no one's daddy.” Bucky took his shirt off throwing it on the couch beside her, making her flinch.

“But what should I call you if not—”

“Call me Mr. Barnes, if you're so keen on being polite.” Bucky rolled his eyes.

“Yes, Mr. Barnes.” She sniffled.

“And stop crying.” He huffed.

“Yes, Mr. Barnes.” She quickly wiped at her face, holding the rest of her tears inside and forcing the lump in her throat further down.

Bucky muttered something under his breath before snatching his shirt and leaving to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him as she flinched again.

He didn't say she was a good girl for calling him what he wanted, or for stopping her crying when she was told to. He didn't like her and he wanted to return her.

What was she supposed to do until he sent her back? He didn't want her help even if they said he needed it.

Was it going to be like this for the next 3 months? How was she going to do all of the grown up stuff if Daddy Mr. Barnes didn't help her? How was she going to live? And why did she still care to try her best to be good for the harsh, blue-eyed man?

She didn’t know what to do so she sloppily changed her clothes by herself, putting her socks in the hamper to be washed like a good girl.

She washed her hands and feet by herself, unknowingly making Bucky think he was right all along about letting her do things on her own as she should.

That was until he put a hot cup of instant noodles before her for dinner though. He refused to help her eat and she accidentally spilled hot soup over her hand and the wooden table. It was chaos.

Bucky cursed out loud and she started crying in pain.

He had enough pity on her to drag her to the bathroom and put her hand under the cold water. If his hold on her arm hurt, she didn’t say anything.

“Keep it there, don’t you dare move.”

“Mr. Barnes, don’t leave,” she sniffled, eyes red and in pain.

“I’m not leaving you in the Sahara desert.” Bucky rolled his eyes, “I gotta go clean the mess you made.” He left her in the bathroom and she kept her hand under the water, not daring to move like she was told.

“How hard is it to eat fucking noodles! It’s not quantum physics!” Bucky muttered angrily as he wiped the soup off the table with a cloth.

“Fuck that age regression shit I am done!” He took their noodle cups to the kitchen and dumped both in the bin.

“What are you still doing in there! It’s not like you got burnt by lava!” Bucky shouted to her, walking to the bathroom.

“I— I— Mr. Barnes, you told me not to move.” She began crying again at his angry demeanor.

“For fuck’s sake,” Bucky groaned, “do you ever stop crying?!”

“I’m s-sorry.” She hiccupped. She didn’t know what to say or how to please him she just wanted him to stop glaring at her. She was scared.

“Get out of there and dry your hands,” Bucky told her, sitting on the couch with a sigh.

“Yes, Mr. Barnes.” Came her chocked whisper.

“Does it hurt?” Bucky asked when she came out of the bathroom, tears drying on her cheeks.

The question surprised her. Maybe he did care after all.

“Burns a little,” she told him, pointing to the back of her hand where the skin got burnt.

“I might have a cream here somewhere,” he said, trying his best to keep an unconcerned expression on.

She took a look around when Bucky stood up to look in the kitchen. It was a cozy place and she wasn’t too needy but she couldn’t help but wonder about where she was going to sleep.

There didn’t seem to be enough furniture in here.

“Try not to touch it and you should be fine in the morning,” Bucky instructed after applying the burns cream to the sensitive area of skin.

“Thank you, Mr. Barnes.” She whispered before absentmindedly pecking Bucky’s cheek.

Bucky’s eyes widened at her guts. He certainly didn’t see that coming. It was her first night here how was she so bold!

His breath stuttered out of his lungs but he quickly recomposed himself.

Bucky’s jaw clenched and he gave her a dark stare.

“Do you have a death wish?”

“N— No.” She quickly shook her head.

“Did I give you permission to do that?”

“No.” She shook her head again, sort of knowing where this was going. She was going to get punished.

“Then why’d you do it?” Bucky sneered through his teeth.

“To th— thank Mr. Barnes.” He made her so nervous she could barely hear herself answer him.

Bucky hated her. She had no sense of boundaries. He hated the way she cried all the time. He hated the way she referred to him in third person.

He hated her.

“You already said that, didn’t you?”

She nodded.

“Don’t do it again.” Was all Bucky said and she was relieved.

“Yes, Mr. Barnes.”

Bucky scoffed and stood up to put the cream back where he found it.

Turned out, Bucky had no bed. He slept on the floor and he didn’t need one.

“But where do I sleep, Mr. Barnes?” She asked in a small voice.

“Anywhere that is not next to me,” Bucky replied, not even sparing her a glance.

“Can I sleep here?” she asked, patting the couch.

“Suit yourself.”

“Thank you, Mr. Barnes.” She gave a shy smile.

“I didn’t make the damn couch. Just go to sleep.”

“Bad word again,” she whispered.

“What was that?” Bucky raised an eyebrow.

“Nothing.” She slammed a hand on her mouth.

“Repeat what you just said if you know what’s good for you.” Bucky glared.

“I— Mr. Barnes said a bad word,” she whispered shakily.

“Yeah, well, it’s my house! I’ll talk however I want!” Bucky raised his voice.

“Yes, Mr. Barnes.” She nodded, not even thinking about arguing that he shouldn’t curse in front of a little.

“Go to sleep.”

“Yes, Mr. Barnes.” She quickly plopped on the couch, covering herself with a blanket, and burying her face in a cushion.

Bucky almost chuckled; almost thought it was cute but he shook the smile off his face quickly and sighed, taking his shirt off and getting himself on the hard floor, easily falling asleep.

He always falls asleep so fast because nightmares usually wake him up few hours after; he be waiting for bed time all day.

She peeked from under the blanket when she heard Bucky snore, carefully tiptoeing to her bag to get her stuffie. She took one look at shirtless Bucky, her cheeks heating up, before sliding back under the covers on the couch.

Her Daddy that didn’t like to be called Daddy was beautiful.

It has started again. He’s chasing a person, he corners them to where they could not run anymore, his left hand wraps around their throat, they struggle and beg and then snap. He kills them.

Bucky startled awake, having a hard time taking his breath only to find her on the floor next to him.

Her eyes were full of worry and maybe even sympathy as she clutched a stuffed animal. Bucky didn’t like it.

“It’s okay, Daddy— Mr. Barnes. ‘T was just a bad dream.” She whispered, dropping her stuffie to wrap her short arms around Bucky.

He wouldn’t admit it but it felt nice to be held. Something inside him wanted to succumb to the gentleness of her gesture. But Bucky shut that down at once.

“Get off,” Bucky huffed tiredly as the girl clung to him and rubbed his sweaty back.

“But—”

“Get. Off.” He repeated, grinding his teeth and she reluctantly slipped off his lap and went back to her spot on the floor.

She stared at him as he panted and frowned for a second before leaving the room.

Bucky scoffed, rubbing a hand down his hot face. She probably went to cry in the bathroom again; such a crybaby.

Except she didn’t.

She returned with a relatively cool glass of water, only half full. She didn't want to be bad and spill.

“I got you water, Mr. Barnes.” She carefully got on her knees and offered him the cup.

“Stop saying my name so much.” Bucky snatched the cup out of her hand, gulping down the water without showing an ounce of gratitude.

She pouted, crawling to her bag to get him tissues because she didn’t see any around.

“So you do know how to act around liquids after all.” Bucky taunted, still not over the fact that she spilled soup over his table before taking the tissues from her to wipe his forehead.

“Do you want me to sing you a lullaby, Mr. Barnes? It helps me after bad dreams.” She suggested, desperately hoping he would let her help.

“Not all of us act like kids to flee our nightmares.”

“Mr. Barnes.” Her eyes filled with tears and it was the last thing Bucky wanted to deal with, “I’m not acting.”

She was hurt but he didn’t care. He said what he said.

“Get back on the couch, I wanna go to sleep.” Bucky dismissed, pushing the empty glass against the wall.

“Yes, Mr. Barnes.” She whispered dejectedly, taking her friend and crawling back to the couch.

The same thing happened every night for another four nights. At this point she was really worried about the man she started singing lullabies anyway, not waiting for his permission.

“Hey, you!”

“Doll,” she corrected.

“Whatever! Shut up already. I told you I don’t need your stupid singing.” Bucky growled into his pillow.

He was lying. He hated admitting it but he was. Her voice was actually angelic. He never went back to sleep again after a nightmare but that changed when she ignored his wishes and started singing. Bucky could drift off again to her soft voice.

He could get more hours of nightmareless sleep because of her lullabies. But he was too stubborn to admit anything that came from her was working for him.

It must be a coincidence. He probably fell asleep again because he was exhausted from being mad at her all day.

“I know Mr. Barnes doesn’t need it. It’s for me.” She lied as well. She knew lying wasn’t good girl like but she was helping Mr. Barnes; it was for good reason.

“Mr. Barnes,” her small voice called to him but Bucky was ignoring her.

He was pretending he couldn’t hear her and continued staring at the TV because she talked too much for his liking.

“Mr. Barnes.” She ever so lightly touched Bucky’s arm.

“What!” he spit suddenly, making her jump.

“We— We need to go shopping. Mrs. Morrison will visit tomorrow.”

She knew the process and for some reason didn’t want to be taken away from Bucky.

If Mrs. Morrison came and saw the way the apartment was or the way Bucky treated Doll, she was definitely going to make her leave with her.

“What?!”

“It’s day five.” She reminded, tilting her head to the side.

“Yeah, so?” Bucky’s body fully turned to face her.

“Tomorrow’s visit day. We have to go shopping.”

“How do I know you’re not lying just to get me to buy you things?”

“I don’t lie, Mr. Barnes.” She assured him, looking hurt at even the suggestion.

“It’s in the papers,” she told him, referring to the contract he’s signed as well as the guide he was provided with her file before leaving the institution.

Bucky narrowed his eyes at her, but stood up to look at the papers he’d carelessly shoved in a drawer in the kitchen a few days ago.

“Shit,” he muttered when he saw she wasn’t lying. He heard her whisper bad word but chose to ignore it.

There were scheduled visits listed with different time intervals between each visit for the next three months.

Bucky groaned, throwing the paper sheet back in the drawer and slamming it shut.

“Put your clothes on, we’re going fucking shopping.”

“Bad word.”

“Don’t even—” she ran to the bathroom to change before Bucky could get angrier.

What has Sam gotten him into?

“Why’s your hair so messy!” Bucky asked, shoving her out of his way to grab a jar of peanut butter and put in the cart.

“I don’t know how to do it on my own an’ Mr. Barnes kept telling me to hurry up.”

Her voice was so small and if Bucky wasn’t so infuriated by the situation he would’ve felt bad for how he spoke to her.

“You’d think you’d actually look decent enough after taking forever to get ready.” Bucky huffed.

She remained silent, looking down and closing in on herself.

“Do you eat this?” Bucky asked, waving a box of corn flakes in front of her.

“Yes, Mr. Barnes.”

Bucky nodded, throwing the box in the cart.

“Didn’t I tell you to stop saying my name so much?”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Barn—” Bucky’s cold stare stopped the word on her tongue.

“Call me Bucky.”

He didn’t want her to call him Bucky. But if that Mrs. Morrison was visiting tomorrow she couldn’t know he made her speak to him formally.

“Bucky?”

“Bucky.”

“Yes, Bucky.” She smiled shyly, feeling one step closer to the man.

Bucky didn’t know his life would turn upside down so fast.

He never cared about grocery shopping because he didn’t need that much stuff and he mostly ate at restaurants or diners or bought take out. He mainly just had beer filling his fridge.

But with her tied to him now he was buying all kinds of food: fresh vegetables and fruits, juice boxes, snack bars and way too many Oreos. Not to mention the toiletries he had to pay for because aside from her tooth and hair brushes, she came with nothing.

“Bucky, can we please get this?” she asked, pointing to a stuffed white wolf.

“No, you already have one at home. I see it every night.”

“Please, Bucky, please. Pretty please,” she begged, giving puppy eyes and pressing her palms together even.

“Okay, fine, shut up. God!” Bucky grumpily put the toy in the cart and got them to the nearest cashier before she could pick anything else.

She was so happy and was going to cherish her new stuffie more than ever.

Bucky was pacing back and forth in the living room. He needed to find a way to convince her not to tell Mrs. Morrison or whatever her name was how he treated her.

He didn’t want her to know she had any type of power over him because of the situation.

Bucky definitely wasn’t going to say please, but he also knew he couldn’t scare her into saying what he wanted.

“Bucky, please go to bed. Wolfie can’t sleep.” She whined, hugging her newest stuffie to her heart.

Bucky gave her yet another hard glare. She made him so angry that sometimes he forgot how to function. She was so spoiled and oblivious.

“I won’t say anything to Mrs. Morrison,” she whispered.

“You think I care what you have to say?! They could take you right now for all I care!” Bucky replied angrily.

“I know…” she mumbled, “I don’t want them to.”

Her words left Bucky without a reply. He was confused. She didn’t want to leave? Why not? Bucky hasn’t said one kind word to her since she’s been entrusted to him.

Was she some type of masochist?

“I wanna stay with Bucky. Sing him lullabies and eat noodles with him,” she said, her voice soft and heavy with sleep, before her eyes shut as she drifted off.

Her words put Bucky at ease for now and he got on the floor to finally try to get some sleep. He tried to ignore the way they affected him though.

“Bucky,” she called gently.

“Hmm.”

“I need to shower,” came her timid whisper.

“Do you see me using the bathroom?! Help yourself.” Bucky huffed, stirring the sugar in his mug.

“I can’t.”

“What do you mean you can’t?!” he snapped, throwing the spoon in the sink.

“I need Bucky’s help.” Her face was on fire with embarrassment of having to say this out loud.

“For fuck’s sake,” Bucky rolled his eyes, pushing his mug aside before grabbing her arm and pushing her to the bathroom.

She whimpered as they stood before the glass door of the shower.

“This, because you’re not stupid you’re just age regressed, opens the hot water.” Bucky pointed to the tap handle on the right. “This opens the cold water. And this—”

“Bucky, that’s not what I need help with.” She shook her head, biting down on her lip.

“What do you want from me then?!” Bucky had no patience and her bashfulness wasn’t helping.

She raised her arms up before whispering, “I need Bucky to gimme a shower.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Bad word.”

“Don’t start now! You don’t know how to shower?!”

She shook her head, pouting as her eyes got teary again, “not when little.”

“This is bullshit. I didn’t even wanna do this. Damn you, Sam Wilson!” Bucky said, walking out of the bathroom angrily as she trailed behind him like the lost puppy she was.

“Bad word.”

“Stop!” Bucky boomed and she put her hands behind her back timidly.

“Please, Bucky,” she begged, getting hold of his hand.

“No! On my dead body!”

“Stand straight or I swear I’m gonna leave you here and go!”

“Yes, Bucky,” she giggled, the water trickling down her spine tickling her.

“Now what?” He huffed, trying not to stare at her naked chest.

“Now, this.” She held up the bottle of conditioner for him and Bucky sighed before taking it and squeezing some on his hand.

He was about to smooth it down her scalp when she moved away.

“No, no! This goes on the ends or else it gives you dandruff,” She said and Bucky would’ve facepalmed so hard if it wasn’t for the slippery matter covering his palms.

This was going to be long.

She was fast asleep on Bucky’s couch after her shower, so peaceful and without a care in the world.

Bucky envied her as he got in place on the floor. He really wished he had enough flexibility in him to accept help and care from someone.

But no, he didn't need her. He didn't need any of this. He just had to go through tomorrow and the rest will figure itself out.

Yeah, yeah just tomorrow for now, Bucky thought as he drifted off.

part II

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matrixbearer2024 · 3 months

Note

not a request but i just wanna get an idea that i absolutely MUST get out of my brain before it consumes my entire being. So, your “get off my screen series”. You know that trend where ppl put that one vox vid of his face on their tv and put like hus hat and/or body attached to the tv. Imagine vox somehow finds a way to do that and y/n just does this.

THATS IT LMAO ABSOLUTELY LOVE AND ADORE YOUR SERIES. ANYTIME I SEE IT’S UPDATED IT MAKES MY DAY<3

TikTok Trending, Posts and Memes

Vox x CollegeStudent!Reader

A/N: With how many ideas you guys have at this point I might just continue to write short scenarios for this AU with all the ideas you guys are giving me- it's absolutely amazing seeing what y'all come up with and I'm just living for it hahahaha! Thank you guys so much!

The week you had was... interesting to say the least.

Vox had challenged you to at least take up basic programming, claiming you were too impatient to learn.

So you, being the persistent and stubborn you-

Decided to prove him wrong.

Besides, it can't be that bad if he knows how to do it.

You wouldn't tell him because it'd probably make him butthurt-

But you were sure Vox was 1000% more impatient than you.

You took up computer science for extra credit, quickly learning the ins and outs of basic coding.

It was just a world of syntax and numbers but you definitely found it fun.

And useful too-

Especially when you wanted to explicitly screw with others.

Vox may or may not have slightly taught you how to hack.

But you weren't using it for anything bad!

Just to change the final grade of some asshole students so they'd have to repeat the class.

That's what they get for just randomly tripping you in the hall the other day.

Vox was slightly proud but also kind of concerned-

You'd definitely end up where he was at this rate.

Thankfully though, you decided not to do anything too crazy since.

Instead you've been messing around on your devices alongside the tech overlord.

From practicing how to send him encrypted messages-

To straight up just shitposting all over his monitors.

It's not so fun now is it Voxxy?

You would sometimes try to transfer him around to other devices that weren't your own to see if he could actually do anything.

Well, he could- but it only worked if he was directly connected to it.

Meaning he had to be plugged in.

How he was able to connect to all your devices wirelessly without limitation?

Neither of you had a clue.

You both first tested it on your best friend's phone, only for Vox to immediately go back to your computer and blow up your notifications.

"Nope nope nope nope, that's the last time I let you plug me into some random fucking phone-"

"What?? What happened??? And it's not random, it's (Friend Name)'s Phone."

"Dollface, you know Valentino right? The one I told you about?"

"The pornstar? What about?"

You didn't exactly like where this conversation was going.

You had an inkling where it would end and you were already cringing.

"Yeeaaaah, I've known him for quite some time so I would think I've seen nearly everything."

"Get to the point Vox-"

"And yet I am somehow utterly disgusted by your friend's search history."

"Yeah, uh... I'd rather you don't tell me."

"I figured. Though it makes me curious about what yours looks like."

That gave you pause, given how Vox had practically invaded your entire computer-

Hell, he even gave your files a new sorting system-

You were surprised he hadn't gone through your search history.

Of all the things you'd think that was what he'd ransack first.

"You haven't checked my search history yet?"

"Why would I? It's not like I'm trying to find your secret porn stash or something."

"Bruh, why would I even have that."

"Your friend had one, I just guessed."

"Touché."

You were a little touched that Vox cared about you enough not to really dig into your secrets.

Or well, the things you wanted to keep secret.

For a big bad overlord, he was kind of a sweetheart.

"Okay now I definitely wanna see what you've got hidden in there-"

"FUCK OFF YOU STUPID OLD PICTUREBOX-"

"YOU CAN'T STOP ME BITCH-"

You know what, you retracted your previous statement.

He's a fucking jerk.

Vox quickly dug through your search history while the tiny desktop companion in his likeness refused to give you control over the cursor.

You couldn't stop him even if you tried.

His phone blew up from notifications with you cursing at him or just calling him names.

He just laughed at your dismay and continued to dig through.

Okay- wow.

While he didn't initially expect it from you, Vox reckoned he probably should've.

Much like how people had celebrity crushes, he figured you would have your own.

It just so happened that it wasn't a celebrity and it was a fictional character instead.

He kind of felt like someone slapped him in the face actually, even if he didn't know why.

"Soooooo- (Favorite Character Name) huh?"

"Shaddup-"

"This? This is your type???"

"IT'S A FICTIONAL CRUSH GET OVER IT-"

While you were practically steaming from the ears in embarrassment, Vox was just laughing and dealing with his mixed feelings.

On one hand, he found your reactions absolutely entertaining and hilarious.

On the other hand, he didn't even know who or what this character was and he already disliked them.

Just a gut feeling.

He continued to tease you for it though, bringing up more cringe parts of your search history much to your chagrin.

It wasn't really anything bad that you couldn't take, it was just so embarrassing that you'd rather he didn't dig any of it up.

So in the heat of the moment, wanting to get Vox off your computer- you plugged it into the only other active device he wasn't connected.

Your TV.

It was nearly instant, he went from teasing and texting to you to a befuddled face on the larger screen.

But what was more surprising, was he could actually see you this time.

It wasn't filtered over with static like when he'd first met you.

The live feed even had audio, which was just entirely unexpected too.

Who knew, plug a TV demon into his specific medium and he could actually operate properly?

But that's how you guys ended up figuring out how to connect his digital presence to your TV.

By entire surprise and from just fucking around.

"Oh my god that worked-"

"(Y/N)? Holy hell! I can actually see you!"

"I did not think that would work-"

"Wow, are you really that short or is your TV just perched up that high?"

You just flipped him the bird and Vox laughed at you again.

Though, you couldn't help but smile because of it.

Well, at least now he could converse with you "properly" like he'd wanted to for a while.

Even if it did mean he'd need to take up your entire TV.

"Oh- OH WAIT- I've got an idea!"

Vox couldn't even question what you were doing before you ran out of the room and out of his sight.

So while waiting, he took a gander at the room you left him in.

It became abundantly clear that this was your living space too.

From the colors to the patterns, Vox smiled fondly as he recalled your old conversations where you would just tell him things about the things you liked.

Yeah, he could definitely see your touch in how the room was designed.

He raised an eyebrow when you giddily came back into the room with some colored paper, scissors and tape.

What-?

"Okay Doll, just what are you planning?"

"You'll see~!"

Your excitement kept him curious.

What were you drawing over there?

Weird timing for an arts and crafts project if you asked him.

It was only until you approached him and taped something to the screen did he actually grow confused.

He couldn't see what you did despite you doubling over in laughter.

What could've possibly been so funny that had you keeling from it?

By the time you could finally look at Vox without laughing your ass off, you used your phone to take a picture of how he looked.

Approaching the TV to show him just so he could see the photo as well.

Ah.

So that's what you found so funny.

You'd fashioned his outfit-

Poorly made but still recognizable-

Out of paper and taped it to the screen.

His hat on top and his suit dangling off the bottom.

Admittedly, it looked downright silly.

Especially with the proportions being so off thanks to the size of the TV screen.

"Haha, very funny (Y/N). Very funny."

"I'm making this shit my wallpaper, you look so goofy."

Vox just playfully rolled his eyes at you with a smile.

If that was seriously all it took to make you laugh?

He'd do it again no questions asked.

Taking a peek at his internal clock though, he held back his disappointment that he had to leave when you were on such an elated high.

"Sorry to cut this short doll, but I need to disconnect. I've got a meeting in a few minutes."

"Hm? Then go and do what you need to do, I can always just plug you back in later. Good luck!"

The overlord chuckled when you raised a hand to pat the screen, he couldn't feel it but he wished he did.

"I don't need luck, but... thanks. See you."

"See you."

And just like that the screen fizzled out and returned to the smart TV homepage.

You'd sent the picture to Vox through your chats and he replied with a TV emoticon.

You giggled, course he would do that.

At least he didn't take offense to what you did-

Despite your poor art skills-

Maybe he found it as entertaining as you did?

Whatever, you switched the wallpaper on your phone to the new photo you had of Vox and laughed.

His confused expression really sealed the deal with how silly the picture was.

But imagine your surprise come morning when you realized he didn't switch the wallpaper back to his trademark grin.

You sort of expected him to, especially given that he'd done so with all your past attempts to change your wallpaper.

The fact he left it alone made you smile.

And as the day began and Vox left you a morning greeting-

You just shot him one back and got up to prepare for the day.

You figured the day would be just fine.

Yeah, you guys would be just fine.

A/N: Ooough this was a long one but I had a lot of fun writing it! I'll post the masterlist afterwards when I grab all the links to the posts and I'll just be continuing the other interludes before I post the chapter with Reader's death. Either way, I hope you guys enjoyed this one!

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox #vox #vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin vox x reader #vox x you #Get Off My Screen Series

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kaleldobrev · 5 months

Text

Hauled Up

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Summary: Sam recruits you to try and convince Dean to stop hauling up in his room

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: Cursing (1x), Mutual pining & Fluff

Authors Note: Takes place in season 14 | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

As you were watching some Netflix, there was a hefty knock on your bedroom door. You had hoped that it was Dean who was knocking as you hadn't seen him in pretty much a few weeks since he had gotten back, but you knew that was a long shot. "Come in!" You called out, pausing the program that you were watching.

About two seconds later, Sam appeared, and he looked insanely drained and tired; something that's been pretty much normal for him over the last few weeks. Between helping the hunters who had come from the Apocalypse World and trying to find any information on where Dean/Michael could have been. Thankfully with Dean back, the only thing really draining him now was making sure the "newbies" knew how to handle certain cases on their own or through team-ups.

"Hey, can you do me a favor?" Sam asked, his voice sounding a little hesitant.

"Sure, what is it?" You asked. It could be a numerous amount of things as while Dean was gone, you had became Sam's right hand, assisting him with the other hunters. You were either helping to find cases, going on team-ups, cooking giant meals for everyone that could last days, or bandaging people up when they came back from a hunt.

"I need you to try and get Dean out from his room. He's been hauled up there for weeks. It's not good for him," Sam said, sighing a little.

"I think he just wants to be alone Sam. I mean, I don't really blame him. He was gone for weeks, and then when he came back, he came back to a place full of people that he doesn't know, not just us," you stated. You couldn't imagine what Dean went through while Michael was possessing him doing God Know's What. As much as you didn't mind having the other hunter's here, you knew that with these other hunters here, Dean couldn't really be himself even if he wanted to be. "Why can't you try and get him out?"

"I think you're the only person that might be able to," Sam stated.

"And why do you think I'd be able to convince him?" You questioned, raising a brow.

Sam looked at you, giving you one of those 'you know exactly why' look. It wasn't a secret that you and Dean had feelings for each other, and have had these feelings for each other for the past couple of years. It was one of those things that even though neither one of you had directly said to each other that you have these feelings; it was kind of a known fact how the two of you felt about each other.

You sighed. "I can try."

Walking into the kitchen, you had decided that one of the things that you were going to do in order to try and convince Dean to come out of his room was bring apple pie as a kind of offering to him.

As you gathered the ingredients, one of the hunters from the Apocalypse World walked into the kitchen with a big smile on their face. "You making apple pie Y/N?" He asked, rubbing his hands together.

You nodded. "Yeah, I'm making a pie for Dean," you said, starting to chop up the apples.

The man sat down at the counter, and even though you didn't directly look up at him, you could have sworn that he rolled his eyes at your response. As much as you had wanted to comment, you decided to ignore it. "Anything that I can help you with?" You asked.

"Hoping you can make this pie for me instead of Dean," he stated. Instead of the eyeroll like he had done before it was a wink; and it took all you could not to roll your own eyes.

"I remember you saying how much you hated apple pie," you stated, putting the apples into a bowl of cinnamon sugar.

"But I've never had your apple pie Sweetheart," he said, winking again.

This time, you had decided to say something, as you did not like when someone other than Dean had called you Sweetheart. "It's Y/N, not Sweetheart."

"It's just a nickname Y/N," he said. "Lighten up."

Before you could comment any further, you heard someone clear their throat in the doorway; and when the two of you looked up, looking into that direction, it was Sam with a clipboard in his hand. "Jones, shouldn't you be getting ready for your wendigo hunt with Xander?"

Jones looked at Sam for a moment, before looking at you. "Can't wait to eat this when I get back," he winked, getting up from his spot at the counter and making his way out of the kitchen.

As soon as Jones was out of the earshot, Sam sat down on the same stool that Jones was sitting at a few seconds before. "I could have handled that myself you know," you stated, giving the piecrust a gentle coating of butter to make sure that it didn't completely burn in the oven.

"I know, I'm sorry," Sam said, slightly sighing. "Gonna try bribery?" He asked, pointing to the pie.

"I call it motivation," you shrugged.

With the pie finally done, you placed it onto a tray along with two forks and a pint of vanilla ice cream. You doubted you'd be able to convince Dean to come out of his room, but maybe you can convince him to at least share some of the apple pie that you had made for him with you so he could at least have some kind of social interaction.

Lifting up the tray, you took a deep breath and made your way out of the kitchen, heading to Dean's room.

Upon coming up to his door, it was shut like it has been the last several weeks, the sounds of his television blasting as he watched a horror movie (which sounded remotely like the All Saint's Day series to you, as you thought you could vaguely hear Hatchet Man's voice).

Knocking on the door, you heard Dean sigh loudly and pause the television. "Fuck off," he said, his voice annoyed.

"I don't really want to eat this apple pie by myself," you said, your voice a little low.

You heard Dean get up from his bed, slightly sighing. A few seconds later, his door opened and he looked down at you as you held the tray in your hands. "Sam put you up to this?" He asked.

"He asked me to try and convince you to come out of your room. But, I know I wouldn't be able to convince you, so, I decided to make some apple pie for us to share together instead," you smiled.

Dean eyed you and the pie for a moment before stepping to the side. "I'm watching All Saint's Day two," he said.

"Perfect," you said, stepping inside his room.

"Thanks for trying not to convince me," Dean said, between bites. "You're the only one I feel like gets it." He knew that you were the only person to get it, as you and him always seemed to be on similar wavelengths.

"I might not necessarily know what you went through but...I just know for me, if I came back to a Bunker full of strangers, I'd want to haul up in my room too," you said, wiping your mouth.

"You outdid yourself this time with the pie," he commented.

"It's how I always make it," you said.

Dean shrugged. "I don't know tastes...better than usual."

"Probably because you haven't had it in a while," you stated.

"Probably," he agreed.

"I hope you enjoyed your pie," you smiled, grabbing the tray; no more pie or ice cream in sight.

"I did, thanks," Dean said, sitting on the edge of the bed as he watched you make your way to his bedroom door. "You didn't have to make it for me by the way. I know you've been busy with all the other hunters."

"Dean, I wanted to," you began, walking back to the bed where he was and placed the tray of empty dishes next to him. "Besides, I'll never be too busy for you," you stated, taking his hand in yours and giving it a gentle squeeze. "You mean a lot to me Dean, you know that," you added.

The feeling of your hand in his was one that he longed for these past couple of weeks, but he didn't necessarily know how to ask for it. "You mean a lot to me too," he stated. More than you'll ever realize, he wanted to add. He took your other hand in his as he stood up from his spot on the bed gently looking down at you.

"Want to help me with the dishes and then we can come back in here and do something?" You asked him. "We can either watch something or just go to sleep; up to you," you softly smiled.

"I'd like for us to take a drive together. Feel like Baby's been neglected these past few months I've been away," he grinned; a brief chuckle leaving his lips.

"I'd like that," you smiled.

Tag List: @roseblue373 @beansproutmafia @queenie32 @deanwanddamons @missy420-0 @octoberclidan @kidwhofixates @crystal555 @hannahisthebanana @seamlessepiphany @madzzz0797 @livingordeadwhoknows @writinginfear @Roskar16 @syrma-sensei @k-slla @justletmereadfanfic @deans-daydream @midorimachisenpaii @rachiem4-blog @taraswifes @zepskies @jackles010378 @mrsjenniferwinchester @globetrotter28 @deans-spinster-witch @mrlonelycat @frozenhuntress67 @coldspoons @androah If you'd like to be added to a tag list please follow this link

#Dean Winchester x you #Dean Winchester x reader #spn #supernatural #spn imagine #supernatural imagine #spn one shot #supernatural one shot #dean x reader #dean x you #reader insert #female reader

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caffeinemachine · 9 months

Text

Life Jacket - Chapter 1

Conrad Fisher x Eldest Conklin Sibling Reader

I just wrote this so quickly cause it was sitting in my head and it had to get out. Go read this post for an idea of what this series will be! I'm very excited about it!

Here's Part One!!!

Word Count; 1.2K

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cousins. Lots of mixed emotions came with going to Cousins. I loved it I really did, but I wasn’t blessed with the privilege of experiencing the blissful, worry-free love like my sister. Things still followed me to Cousins, responsibilities. And I always was stuck wishing they didn’t.

My siblings got to go swimming whenever they wanted, I had to swim once a day to “keep up with it” in my parents' words, mainly my Dad. I know they don't mean it. That in their hearts they do it out of love. Cause I do love swimming, I really do, but sometimes I wish reality could go on pause so I could live freely for a little while. With no concerns, or right way or wrong way, just me doing as I please. Without my Dad here the past two summers it helped. He’s harder on me than Mom. I grew up to realize it was just cause he didn’t really know how to be a parent. Does anyone really? But his way of showing me love as a parent was by promising my success and ensuring my future. Well, I got recruited to Harvard's swim program with a scholarship so I guess his way of love kind of worked.

Despite everything, Cousins meant I got to see them. Susannah, Jeremiah, and him. Conrad. He was what stirred my emotions about Cousins the most. I’d had a crush on him for as long as I could remember. But I couldn’t tell him. I couldn’t jeopardize our families like that. I didn’t have time for boys. I had tried to date here and there, but everyone got bored, or mad that I “didn’t have enough time for them”. I couldn’t even get upset because they were right. I didn’t have time for them like normal high school girls did. I couldn’t hang out after school, I had swim practice and very few high school boys wanted to hang out just to do homework together once I got home if you know what I mean. I couldn't afford to be distracted, so I let them all go. I couldn’t do that to Conrad, put him in that situation. I also think I couldn’t do it to myself. The other boys didn’t matter, but him? Losing him would crush me so hard that I don’t think I would recover.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I drove to Cousins with Steven in my car. I had saved up all summer and bought my trusty Volkswagen Passat last Fall. That was another pro about Cousins, the money. I've worked as a lifeguard at the club since I was 15, and I also did swim lessons there as well as private lessons. Those people will pay real well to have an all-star swimmer teach their three-year-old how to float I’ll tell ya.

“So you excited to work this summer?” I asked Steven. He got a job at the pool snack stand at the club and I had helped Jeremiah get a position as a lifeguard.

“Yeah, I guess, I’m excited to make big bucks like you have been all these summers.” He smiled at me making me instantly light up. Steven just had a natural energy to him that brightened people's moods.

We jammed out to music for the rest of the drive and before I knew it we were pulling in the driveway. I noticed my mom's car wasn’t here yet. Knowing her and Belly, they probably stopped for snacks. Man, this house. I dreamed about this house. It was absolutely beautiful. I honked, our signal to them we had arrived.

Jeremiah was the first one to run out to see us, but Susannah was not far behind. Conrad was nowhere to be seen, odd. I didn't have time to think about it though as Jere scooped me up in a big hug and spun me around. I noticed then how much he had grown since last summer. He probably started working out and he definitely grew a couple of inches. As we said hello he had a huge smile on his face, he usually did Jere was always a golden retriever in human form.

Then Susannah came up to me. when Susannah hugged me it was like life went on pause, the way I always wanted it to. In her arms I was safe, in her arms I was still just her baby, the first born girl.

“ Wow Y/N look at you, my precious girl, you've bloomed," Susannah said to me as she held the sides of my face. I never doubted a word Susannah said, the way she said things made me believe them. Susannah never said it and neither did I, but we were each other's favorites. She always spoiled me, she always was my number one fan. Susannah had a level of enthusiasm to her that most people didn't have. It probably wasn't fair for me to call her my favorite. She got to love me like a mother and spoil me like the fun aunt, and she never had to give me any of the negatives. So yes it probably wasn't fair for her to be my favorite, which is why I only ever told her private.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We all walked back inside, Susannah and Jere helping Steven and me carry in our bags. Still no Conrad. I dropped my bags on the floor as I scanned my eyes around my room. Nothing out of place, everything was as I left it. I really do love this room. It was bigger than my one back home, it even had a small walk-in closet. Conrad and I had the biggest rooms, we were the oldest so we got the first pick of rooms.

I'm mindlessly unpacked for a while before hearing the same signal I had done myself just a bit earlier, Mom and Belly were here. I didn't rush down after all, I had seen them just a few hours ago. I thought it was okay to let them have their own proper reunion with the Fishers. So I finished putting the rest of my clothes in my drawers before I went downstairs. However, when I open my bedroom door, I open it to find Conrad with his hand in mid-air as if he were about to knock.

“Whoa- oh, hi,” I said somewhat skeptically, he had just appeared out of nowhere, where had he been when I would got here? He cleared his throat, shuffling his feet somewhat awkwardly as he put his arm down from its spot in the air and clasped his hands behind his back.

“Hey, um I was uh coming to say hello! I was down at the beach surfing all morning, I didn't even realize you were here until your mom pulled up and you weren't with her.” He seemed nervous for some reason, I wasn't sure why.

“Don't worry about it, was the surf any good?”

He smiled at me then, “ Yeah it was so good, I lost track of time.” I smile back at him, I had missed him.

“Glad to know you missed my entrance for something worthwhile.” He laughed, me along with him before his face went back to being relaxed. He stared at me in silence for a few moments before suddenly, before I could even realize what was happening, Conrad had his arms around me. Conrad was hugging me. It was nice, but odd. Conrad wasn't the most affectionate person and this was very out of the blue.

“I'm happy you're here Y/N.” He whispered, slightly muffled by my hair. We backed away as I said,

“Me too.” The silence stretched a moment too long for my level of comfort. He was too intoxicating, his gaze on me was all consuming, I had to get out of there. “I'm going to go say hi to my mom and my sister.” I rushed out, going past him down the stairs before he even replied.

This summer was already off to an interesting start.

#conrad fisher angst #conrad fisher x reader #conrad fisher #conrad fisher imagine #conrad fisher fluff #tsitp conrad #tsitp #the summer i turned pretty #tsitp jeremiah #jeremiah fisher #jeremiah fisher imagine #tsitp s2 #jeremiah fisher fanfic #jeremiah fisher x reader #steven conklin

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somethingswift19 · 4 months

Text

Who? JJ Maybank x Tattooed (f) Reader

| Warnings: mentions of abuse, swearing, over protective JJ (mildly), alternative reader

| Summary: JJ noticed your medusa tattoo for the first time. All characters are in their 20s in this

| (a/n): I don't know how I feel about this ending. But I hope y'all enjoy!

You weren't like the others on Kildare Island. Technically you were a kook like Kie, but also like Kie you were a pouge through and through. Your dad was ex military and now worked for the local prison while your mom owned the only tattoo shop in the county. Due to this, your family tended to stand out which also meant you lacked in the friends department. That was until you met Kiara.

You and Kie had been inseparable since you met at the kook academy your freshman year. Neither of you wanted to be there but were forced by your mothers to attend. For her 16th birthday present, the two of you even got matching dolphin tattoos. Then when Sarah came along it became the three of you.

This led you to now. You were a 23 year old bartender at The Wreck, Kie's family restaurant, and the two of you had just gotten off shift. Running to the back you threw on your black "I <3 Hot Dads" hoodie, jean shorts, and red high top vans before throwing your messy, curly hair up into a bun. "Hey (y/n), are you ready?" your best friend yelled from the doorway.

"Yeah I'm coming!" grabbing your backpack, you followed her out. You had plans to meet the boys at the beach for a bonfire tonight after work. You had only met them a few times, and all of said times a certain blonde had caught your attention. Getting in the car you got settled but Kie didn't stop staring. "Can I help you?" you laughed.

"Oh no. Just wondering if you were gonna spend the whole night drooling over JJ again and not make a move like last time," she shrugged. Rolling your eyes you told her to just go.

Grabbing the beer out of the back, the two of you made your way towards the beach. "Hey girlies!" the familiar voice of Sarah Cameron rang out. "We were beginning to wonder when the two of you were showing up!"

"Blame the one who had to get ready before we came here," Kiara side eyed you before all three of you began to laugh.

"Listen! Is it a crime to want to look half way decent for my two besties other friends? I mean gotta make a good impression right?" you continued laughing.

"Yeah right. I'm sure it had nothing to do with the fact that JJ is here tonight," Sarah teased you causing you to lightly hit her in the arm as the three of you headed down to the sand. After reaching the firepit you got settled onto the soft sand sitting crisscross applesauce. "Where's Pope?"

"He had homework for his fancy college program," the blonde boy you had been looking forward to seeing all night responded as he sat down next to you and handed you a beer. Nodding your head you took a swig out of the bottle you had been handed. The other three in the group were busy talking about something Sarah's brother did when JJ leaned over and broke the silence between the two of you. "Don't take this the wrong way, but you don't look like anyone I've ever seen around here." You gave him a funny look before he quickly added, "Like it's a good thing! It's cute! Just very different!"

A blush formed on your freckled cheeks, "Thank you...I Think." He was right though. You had long curly black hair with tiny bits of green throughout, both sides of your nose pierced along with your septum, and both ears pierced all the way up. Not to mention the tattoos. Yet you still had a sweetness or "innocence" to you.

"You're welcome!" he smiled proudly to himself for causing the pink tinge. "Now tell me about your tattoos!"

"Well what do you wanna know?" You inquired. The two of you being so wrapped up in your own conversation to realize the other three had left you two alone.

"Well for starters, how many do you have?" genuine curiosity was shown on his face. You fascinated him. "I mean I can see you have your traditional patchwork leg done here, but do you have any more?"

"Well," you began. "I have my leg sleeve (of course), then I also have a full arm sleeve, and one down my side. And then a secret one that matches Sarah and Kie's." you smirked before beginning to giggle when he looked astonished.

"We are gonna circle back to the mystery tattoos later!" the blonde boy exclaimed. "But can I see your sleeve?" You nodded with a hint of reluctance only because of one tattoo. You took off your hoodie so you were only in your tank top. JJ began examining all of the colorful pieces you had but quickly stopped when he saw the medusa adorning your upper arm. His face went from curious and playful to stern. "Who?"

"It's really not important," fixated on the fire you really were hoping to not have this conversation yet. You were always cold but the hoodies also helped keep that hidden.

"You can talk to me," his blue eyes softened. He didn't want to push you but wanted to at least offer. "My dad...he used to beat the shit out of me. I used to blame myself. Would convince myself that I deserved it somehow. My fiends helped snap me out of that."

The two of you sat there in silence for several minutes before you brought yourself to open up, "It was my ex. He had a hard time taking no for an answer." JJ didn't say anything but just let you confide in him. "But before that, I went through something similar to you. My dad was an angry guy. I remember showing up to school with black eyes and having to have my friends cover for me. Then when I was 16, things got particularly bad. He slapped me so hard I fell down and he stormed out. Said 'He should have left me and my bitch of a mom a long time ago'...he came back the next morning in tears and never laid a hand on me since. So then when my ex did what he did, it just brought out suppressed memories."

JJ immediately brought you into a hug while wiping a tear off your cheek, "I am so sorry." You looked up into his beautiful baby blue eyes when the two of you leaned in. He kissed you so gently and tasted so sweet you thought you were in heaven. That was until he whispered onto your lips "So what are these secret tattoos the three of you girls share?" Laughing you buried your face into his chest.

"It's so embarrassing," you blushed as he started to chuckle right when the other three showed back up from what looked like swimming. "Oh! Just in time! (y/n) here was just about to enlighten me on these secret tattoos of yours!"

"Don't do it!" and "She was not!" were said in unison by other two.

"Come on guys we should tell them," you smiled and you all three agreed. "Ok, so just know the three of this did this to celebrate graduating high school. We were young and dumb."

"Oh this is gonna be good," John B mumbled.

"We all have a different fruit," Sarah continued.

"On each of our asses," Kiara finished. The two boys burst out laughing.

"Are you being for real?" John B asked. "I mean I knew about yours Sarah, but all three of you?" he couldn't hold back the laughter anymore.

JJ leaned over and whispered just to you, "I can't wait to see what yours is." Causing you to once again turn bright red. You knew you were in trouble with this boy when he just smirked down and kissed you again saying, "You're too damn cute when you blush like that."

#jj x reader #jj maybank x reader #jj x y/n #jj outerbanks #jj maybank #obx #outer banks #john b routledge #sarah cameron #kiara carrera #obx fanfiction #jj maybank fanfic #jj obx imagine #obx fic #jj imagine #rafe cameron

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roses-for-readers · 5 months

Note

Hello, this is my first time requesting something and i was kinda nervous and i have a few ideas in mind.

But i was wondering if you can write an avatar x maleficent readeri don’t see many of these and i would like something different, and love your writing (if you can’t thats totally fine) thx

This was such a cute idea that I had immediately started it once I got this request! I kinda did a style of the movies still exists and it's not just a random occurrence in the universe. I cut this off to have a nice and fluff type ending but with the opportunity to do a part 2 with heavy angst. And if you want one with the second movie, like it's a growth from this one, just let me know.

Finding Home ~Avatar x Maleficent! Reader

Warnings: Small injuries and a miscommunication that almost causes a fight (Tsu'tey doesn't understand human friendship dynamics)

Masterlist

Being born with wings was definitely a surprise when everyone in the delivery room when I was born. Especially when I later began to grow horns with each passing month. I could only imagine everyone's surprise when they all found out I was exactly like the Disney character Maleficent. That the story wasn't as fictional as everyone had once thought.

Growing up I had idolized the movies of her, ecstatic that I was unique just like she was. Though their were difficulties with my uniqueness as I got older. It was harder to breathe normally compared to someone that had regular problems when I had come to be about 6.

Mom worked with the RDA as a researcher, so they were willing to take a look at me to see what might be wrong. They finally came to the conclusion it was because of the lack of natural forests with fresh air. This caused me to have to use a special inhaler at least 3 times a day. But it was also a discovery that changed my life because I got to meet Grace.

"You know, I'm going to a special place. A different planet that's supposed to have a lot of trees and all kinds of animals and flowers. I think it's just the place you need to truly thrive. Do you like that idea?"

That's what led me here 21 tear years later, technically 15 if cryosleep isn't counted. A botanical expert that would be working alongside Grace and the other members of the Avatar program.

During the safety briefing, I could feel everyone staring at me. But I had become used to it and just focused on the information that was being given to us. Feeling anxious to see Grace again after so long since I first and last saw her.

After the meeting was over, I got ushered along with a Norm and Jake to go and meet up with Grace. I had a small bounce in my step as I walked along with them, not even noticing the weird looks.

"I just gotta ask. What's with the wings and horn things? You like dressing up in them or something?"

"Jake!"

I chuckled softly at the question, casually looked over at the both of them as Jake just waits for an answer as Norm looks absolutely mortified. Stretching my back slightly, I lift one wing up to hang over his had for a second. Smirking at the look of pure awe on both of their faces. "That good enough for you?"

"Holy shit," Jake softly laughed out as he stared at them for a few more seconds before shaking his head. "Now I've seen it all."

"No, I don't think you have yet." I look ahead as we get to the control center of the Avatar program. A smile spreading across my face as I take in all the technology around us, focusing mostly on the screens that were playing overhead.

The sound of one of the pods opening drew my attention away to across the room. A genuine smile coming across my face as I saw her sitting up from the machine, Dr. Grace Augustine.

Grace spoke to some of the other researchers before she turned to look at all of us. I had to keep myself from jumping in to hug her when she turned her focus to me.

Taking in my appearance, she had a small grin as she reached out and affectionately cupped my chin. "Look at how much you've grown. I don't even recognize that little kid that used to carry around a stuffed Maleficent toy like it was a part of you. I'm glad you got to join the program, (Y/n)."

"Thank you, Dr. Augustine," I bashfully reply, feeling ecstatic that she even remembered my name from one interaction years ago. "I'm grateful for the opportunity to be here and working alongside you."

"Always the modest one. That's one of the things I admired about you." She playfully shook my head before finally letting go. Her face becoming a little more stern as she looked at Jake and Norm. Speaking a little more firmly with them.

Letting her words fade into the background, I look back over at all monitors that sit in the center of the room. Marveling at the images that were showing up along with the graphs and how quickly they changed every few seconds.

"They update in real time, you know." I turn my head over to see a guy with glasses standing there with a smile. Pointing up at one of the screens, he continues, "The graphs and the numbers. They help us monitor the vitals of everyone while they are in the pods."

I let out a small 'oh' in understanding as I look back at the monitors for a couple more moment before looking back at him. Holding my hand out, I begin to introduce myself, "I'm (Y/n)."

"I heard," he chuckled out as he took hold of my hand. "My name's Max. I help track the vitals of everyone. And I'm sure everyone heard your name earlier. Grace has never been that nice to anyone before, except for the children."

"Children?" I give him a questioning look as I drop his hand. "They have children here on the base?"

"No, the Na'vi children. Oh, I bet that they are going to love you when they get a look at you." Max's eyes widen when he realized what he had said. Opening and closing his mouth as he tries to find something else to say.

"(Y/n), follow me. Time for a little academic show around." Grace calls out as she begins to head out the door with the men close behind.

Turning back to look at Max one last time, I raise my hand with another smile as I walk away. "I hope your right about that."

I lightly jog to catch up with the group as Grace leads us through the series of hallways until she pushes open a set of doors. When we enter, the first thing I noticed was the dim lighting and blue tint that almost glowed around us. The second thing was the glass tubes that held our Avatars.

Grace placed a hand on my shoulder before leading me to a specific pod off towards the back of the room. Speaking softly when we get closer, "It will take a little longer for you to get your Avatar than the others. It decided to pick up a few extra strands in your DNA that we used."

I stare in awe as I stand in front of the tank, noticing what she had meant. There laid a Na'vi body with features just like mine. Along with a small set of horns and wings that were still developing to fit the rest of the body. Stepping closer, I set my hand on the glass as I smile down at the body. "It's beautiful."

Grace stood beside me with one arm around my shoulders as she put her other hand on the glass with me. "Just like you."

While I didn't have the Avatar body, Grace still let me tag along during the research expeditions. Just as long as I promised to keep my inhaler on my person and my mask stayed on at all times if I didn't need to use it. Just because she wanted to test out the theory of me potentially being able to breathe the air here slowly and in a controlled environment.

We were carefully walking through the forest to a spot where Grace had decided to get some new samples from earlier. There wasn't much talk as we took in the sight of living plants in front of us. Or at least me and Norm were mostly focused on them.

"So, are you able to fly with your wing? Or do they not work for that?" I turn my head up to see Jake staring back at with a confused look on his face.

"I can, but not very well. There weren't many places that I could do something like that back on Earth," I casually explain to him before looking around back around at the area around us.

Grace kneels to the ground around some roots in a tree as she begins to get the equipment ready with Norm as she guides him on what to look for with the images that showed on the screen. I tried to pay attention as I looked down, but I saw Jake walk away out of the corner of my eye.

Following after him, I see him interacting with a different kind of plant. The moment he touched it, it retracted towards the ground as a defense mechanism. I smiled as I watched him do it again with the same result. We both laughed slightly until all of them went to the ground to reveal a small group of the native animals.

We both hold our breaths as one of them gets closer to us. Grace comes running over with Norm as she calls out to Jake. "Don't move. It's only a defense tactic. Just stand your ground."

I watched as he stared down the creature until I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up. Slowly turning my head around and up, I saw a different animal with sharp fangs staring down at me. I held my breath out of fear as it looked over at Jake and let out a low growl. Jumping over the both of us, it stared down at Jake as he took a step back.

"What do I do with this one?" Jake called over to Grace as he locked eyes with the predator in front of us.

It let out another low growl when Grace called back, "Definitely run!"

I barely processed the fact that Jake had turned around to start running. I let out a small scream as he lifted me over his shoulder. I held onto his shoulder as I helplessly watched as the creature chase after us through the dense forest.

Suddenly Jake came to a halt which caused me to look over to see we had gotten to a cliff edge near a waterfall. "What are you doing?! Go!"

"Can you swim?!"

"Fucking jump!" I apparently didn't have to tell him a second time when a deafening roar sounded through the trees. He pulled me down to his chest and jumped down as he stiffened his body. I wrapped my wings tightly around us right before we hit the surface.

Water rushed past us for a few seconds before Jake began to swim upward. Pushing away from him to start swimming myself, we raise our heads over the surface. Jake gasped for air as we both look to see the creature slowly walk back into the forest.

I let out a small sigh as we swim over to the shore and check for any injuries. I glare at Jake after making sure I was fine from the fall. My voice laced with a subtle anger when I say, "'Can you swim'?"

Jake looks at him as he raises a hand as he backs away. "I was trying to make sure you would be safe if we-"

"Can you swim!? Can you fucking swim!? That's the first thing you thought of!? Not, 'is your mask waterproof' or 'is the thing catching up'! You could have thrown me and I would have flown down while you jumped if you were that worried! But 'can you swim' was all you could think of!?"

"You know," Jake began talking as he turned around and started to walk through the forest, "you are very angry for someone that looks like a Disney character."

"She was a villain to begin with anyways. Maybe you should watch your back Sully." I continue to glare at his back as I walk behind him deeper into the forest.

He looks over his shoulder with a smile as he takes in my disheveled appearance. Trying his hardest to hold in his laughter as he shrugged. "Grace wouldn't let you."

"Grace isn't here," I whisper to myself as we continue to walk. I hear noises of unknown animals from deep in the forest. Despite being mad at Jake, I quicken my pace to be walking beside him. Looking up at the trees, a strange feeling coming over my body as I scan the leaves overhead. "Jake..."

"I know," he mumbled as he carefully scans the trees as well. Reaching a hand out, he gently takes hold of my arm and pulls me to his side. "I feel the eyes too."

"Where are they? What are they?" I hold onto his arm as I start to breathe a little erratically. Using my free hand to rub at my chest as I begin to cough.

"Hey, hey. Calm down there. We'll be okay." Jake looks down at me as he stops walking. Kneeling down a little as his hand goes to my soaked bag. "You need your inhaler 3 times a day, right? You haven't used it since breakfast. Let's get it out and take a deep breath. Can you get it out?"

I nod my head as I let him take the bag off my shoulder. Trying to take a few shaky breaths as I begin to rummage through everything that I had packed. Quickly grabbing hold of the inhaler the moment I uncover it from under everything else. Pulling it out as I shake it lightly as I look at Jake. He gives a small nod, which help my nerves as I bring my free hand to my mask. Pulling it up just enough, I bring my inhaler up to my mouth and take a deep breath. Pulling it away almost immediately to secure my mask back into place with a deep breath.

Jake rubs my shoulder as he waits for me to catch my breath. Giving me an encouraging nod as holds my bag open as I put my inhaler back inside. "There we go. Come one, we need to keep moving. It's going to be night in a few hours and we need to find a place to spend the night."

I nod my head again as I look back at the trees above. Taking my bag back from him and securing it on my shoulder before we began to get on our way once again.

The sun had went down just a little over an hour ago. The sounds of multiple animals circling around us was all that I could hear as Jake began to sharpen a stick. I anxiously look around the trees to try and find where the animals might come from, but they just kept circling around just past our line of sight.

"(Y/n), look at me," Jake speaks in a slightly stern voice as he grabs my arm. As I look at him, I see the fear in his eyes at the situation. But he keeps his composure as he keeps talking as if he wasn't to begin with. "If anything happens, if I tell you to run, you forget about me and get out of here. You fly up and get into a tree until morning when Grace will come back and find you. You look after yourself and I know that you'll be fine. Do you understand?"

I quickly nod my head to show that I understood. I was going to say something to him, something about how it wouldn't have to come to that, but the words stopped short as the bushes right beside us rustle. I can't even fully comprehend it before Jake began to push me away in the opposite direction as we started running again.

We didn't run for long until the animals began to circle us in. I ended up with my back pressed against a tree as the dog like creatures snapped their teeth at Jake. I shut my eyes as soon as he begins to fight off the creatures. I didn't want to watch if he potentially had to kill a few of them before they hopefully ran off somewhere else.

Just as soon as everything got crazy, everything went quiet. I hesitantly opened my eyes to see Jake on the ground as a Na'vi woman kneels down to one of the creatures. Though I couldn't quite make out what she was saying, I could tell she was mumbling a prayer for the creature. That act alone made me look down and away from her, remembering how Grace told us of how sacred life was to the people.

Jake apparently wasn't informed of that or didn't remember as he tried to get closer to her, reaching out and touching her shoulder as he repeatedly tried to thank her. I had to keep from laughing as she swung her bow and hit Jake right in the face. I didn't do that good of a job as she looked over at me with a small hiss before turning around and running into the forest.

Jake quickly got off the ground and followed after her. I didn't even have the chance to protest as he called out from over his shoulder. "Come on (Y/n)."

I quickly made sure my bag was still closed, I ran after the both of them. Though it was a little harder considering that they were larger and more physically equipped to be jumping around the limbs of the trees.

"Hey, wait up!" Jake called out to the Na'vi as we got to a tree that was decently high up from the ground. He had just caught up to her when she turned around to face him.

"Away. Both of you," she spoke in a quiet tone, but the disdain was evident as she looked between the both of us. Getting so close in Jake's space that he took a step back and almost slipped. I held my breath as I watched Jake try to reason with her, even blocking me from her view by steeping to the side just slightly.

I tried to keep focused on the situation, but something moved closer to us out of the corner of my eye. Turning my head out of fear that another creature had followed us. But to my surprise there were small plant like things floating in the air. Slowly getting closer to us before most of them began to land on Jake. A hand full of them remained floating in the air nearby. Hesitantly, I reach a hand out to them, watching in awe as it slowly landed on my open palm. I laughed softly as it gently tickled my skin while the others continued to float around us.

After a few moments, they began to float away from us. I turned towards Jake with a huge grin at what had just happened. My gaze quickly turns curious as I see the Na'vi looking at us both in awe as well.

She looked between me and Jake before she beckoned us with a wave of her hand. "Follow me. Come now."

Jake looked like he wanted to protest her sudden change in heart, but I lightly pushed against his back to get him to follow her. With a sigh, Jake quickly began to chase after her with me following close behind.

We continue running across the tree limbs that seem to stretch on for eternity. Anxiety and anticipation coursing through my veins as the three of us go deeper into the forest.

"Where are we even-" Jake stops in the middle of his question as something comes in contact with his legs. I watch in horror as he violently falls down to the forest floor.

"Jake!" I call out as I lean over to see if he was injured. But I was forced to stop short as something wrapped around my chest. Throwing me off balance as I fall down to the ground as well, landing just a few feet from Jake. The impact leaves me disoriented as my head hits just lightly against a rock that was barely uncovered from the dirt.

I blink away the blur that comes into my vision as yelling sounds from almost every direction. A pair of hands lifts me up before one removes itself. My body tensing up entirely as I feel a sharp, cold blade carefully press right in between my shoulder blades.

Glancing over at Jake, I see he was in a similar situation with a knife pressed against his neck as they held him by his queue. But my attention quickly shifts again when the Na'vi who seems to be the leader of our ambush committee comes forward. He jumped down from his mount as he began to stalk over to Jake.

When he got just a few feet from Jake, the woman jumped down from the branch. Effectively blocking his path as the two of them began to argue between the two of them. I wasn't able to catch most of what they were saying due to how my head was throbbing due to the fall. What I could tell was that he wasn't happy with our presence and she mentioned something that involved their Tsahik.

The conversation came to a quick halt as the leader got back onto the horse like creature. He gave a short order to the rest of the group, which caused the Na'vi that were holding us to pull us to our feet. The sudden movement caused my head to spin so much that my stomach churned. I kneeled back to the ground before lifting up my mask, throwing up what little content I had in my stomach. Barely having enough time to secure my mask back on before the Na'vi begin to force me to my feet once again.

"Kehe!" The tugging on my arms stops when the woman calls out to them. They quickly let go of me when she pushes them away. She gently grabs my face with a small frown as she turns it to the side. Her voice is soft as she ghosts her fingers over a spot on the side of my head. "You are hurt. Let me help you to Hometree. You will get treated once we are there."

I don't stop her when she awkwardly wraps her arms around my body. Being tentative not to touch at the base of my wings too much as she lifts me up. I close my eyes with a small sigh as I slowly grasp at her words. My voice hardly a whisper when I ask, "We're going to Hometree?"

She shushes me as she begins to run with the rest of the group. I hold onto her with a small whine from the motions, even if I wasn't seeing the sights that were passing us by.

Before long, the movements came to a stop as soft murmuring echoed around us. I open my eyes to see that we had finally made it to the Hometree of the Omatikayan people. Many of them gathered around as the group came to the center.

I gently get set down near Jake, leaning into his side as I sway just slightly on my feet. I take another breath as I hear a conversation happening between the woman and another member of the clan. Making out just bits of what each of them were saying in the broken haze of focus that I had.

"What is he saying?" Jake's voice sounds out like a sore thumb when he asks the question. Though I couldn't tell if he was asking me solely or if it extended to the woman as well.

"My father is deciding on whether to kill you both or not." I frown at the blunt explanation she gave at the question. I barely even had time to register that information when I felt Jake move slightly before yelling sounded and I got jostled around.

My eyes immediately shot open at the motion as my wings stretched out in a defensive manner. This had caused more yelling as Jake pulled me closer to his side. But all the noise stopped when another voice calls out for silence. Everyone shifts their gaze over to see the Tsahik stepping into the center of the circle.

I blink away at the dizziness that I feel when she stands in front of us. Taking a deep breath, I bring my hand up to my forehead as I do my best to greet her without messing up the pronunciation.

When I lifted my gaze back up to her, she had a small grin on her face. "I see you were taught some of our ways. Though I see that you might not know the language."

I look at her confused at what she had just said. Looking up at Jake, I speak in a soft voice, "I swear that I pronounced it right."

"You didn't say anything," Jake told me with a concerned expression.

I blink at him a couple of times before I pointed at him with a serious look. "I believe I have a concussion."

"You believe? What gave you that impression?" The sarcasm dripped from his voice as he looked back up at the Tsahik. My face scrunched up slightly before I looked back at her as well.

She slowly took out a knife that had been resting in her neckwear. She quickly stepped towards Jake as she stabbed into his chest. I cringed as she licked away the small bit of blood that was on it. She looked at Jake with a curious expression before she looked down at me again.

She was about to do the same thing until the younger Na'vi, presumably her daughter with what I was gathering, stopped her before the knife hit my chest. She gently took my hand and pointed to the center of my palm. "One touched here."

The Tsahik seemed slightly intrigued by the statement, but she didn't say anything. She gently poked her knife just enough to collect a small bit of blood on the tip before licking it way with a thoughtful look. She looked between us once more before she addressed the crowd. "The Dreamwalker and the... human, shall stay with us. They will learn of our ways and what it means to be Na'vi. We shall all watch them as they learn."

Multiple reactions sound through the crowd at the choice their Tsahik had made, but she didn't pay them any mind. Instead, she turned to her daughter while saying, "Take him to get out of his demon clothes. I will tend to the child."

"I'm in my 20s. I'm not a child," I spoke up at the comment about my age. I knew that compared to their size I probably wouldn't been seen as a full adult to them. But I had been expecting to be acknowledged as more than an adolescent.

Jake gave me a light pat on the shoulder before he reached into my bag and started rummaging around. "Let's get your head working right first before you argue how old you are. But you're going to use your inhaler first before you get out of my sight again."

I let out a sigh as he pulled my inhaler out and placed it in my hand. Nodding my head at his statement, I took a deep breath before lifting my mask back up and taking a couple of puffs of the medicine. I blink back my dizziness when I put my mask back into place.

Jake takes my inhaler from my hand and puts it back in my bag for me. He tilts my head up slightly so I look him in the eyes as he speaks again. "You do what she says so you get better. And don't fall asleep for at least a couple of hours so we make sure your actually okay."

"Yes, mother," I snark at him as the Tsahik gently grabbed my arm and began pulling me up the steps that they had for the tree. I was mostly nudged up the tree by her until she guided me into a small platform that was suspended between the branches. She guided me to sit down on what seemed to be a woven blanket. She moved around and collected a few plants and a small bowl before she began to grind them into a paste.

She never looked up from her task as she spoke to me in a soft tone. "You are not entirely human."

I shake my head with a bashful grin as I watch her mix the plants together. Leaning forward slightly as I try to get a better look at her process. "Everyone thinks that I have fairy blood or something. None of the scientists could really agree on one theory about my condition. Just that I had a mutation somewhere in my family tree or such."

"You used a human thing earlier. What is its purpose to you?" She continued speaking as she grabbed my chin to turn my head. Gently rubbing the paste against where I had hit my head.

I closed my eyes with a small sigh, enjoying the cool feeling on my skin. Humming softly as I think of how to explain it to her. "It's a medicine thing. I use it so I can breathe normal enough to go on day to day. A lot of humans have the same thing. I just have an extra special condition."

"You can't breathe your own air." Based on her tone, I knew she was making a statement and not asking. I opened my eyes as she removed her hands from my body. Watching as she went over to grab a few bandages and a small bowl like container.

I shook my head as she sat down next to me again. Watching as she applied a bit more of the paste to the bandages. "No. That's part of why I'm here. Grace had thought I could maybe breath the air here with the forests. But that was before everyone knew the air here was toxic to humans. But she still wants to see if I can handle. Grace wants to do a few test before we fully see if I can."

As I finished my explanation, she began to carefully wrap the bandages around my head. When she was done with that, she then grabbed the container and held it out to me. "Drink this. It will help with the pain and let you rest well through the night."

I wanted to argue that I shouldn't go to sleep anytime soon, but I stopped myself when she gave me a stern look. I took a few quick drinks as I repeatedly took my mask off so I could drink however much she saw fit. When all the liquid was gone, she finally took it from me with a small nod. Almost immediately after I put my mask back on for the last time, she began to guide me to lay down on the blanket.

I watch her walk around he area, organizing things as she went. My eyes started to flutter shut with passing second that I watched her before speaking up just slightly in the quiet space, "My name's (Y/n)."

I thought I saw her smile a little as she continued to move things around on a shelf. I heard her voice speak out one last time before I went to sleep. "You may call me Mo'at, (Y/n)."

I begin to wake up to sound of hushed giggles filtering in and out of my consciousness. With a small groan, I opened my eyes to see a group of children standing over me. As soon as they see me wake up, they let out small shrieks before running off towards the bottom of the tree. Effectively dodging Mo'at as she comes into the area with a small basket.

She smiles as the children run by before she comes back over to me and sits down. Immediately lifting me up into an upright position as she begins to undo the bandages on my head. "I see the children have already taken an interest in you."

I smile at her before glancing over at the stairs that lead down. "I guess they do. I'm just glad they aren't terrified of how I look."

"They are young. Your world makes them curious and they have never seen one of your people with your... characteristics."

I laugh softly at the last part of what she said. Looking back at Mo'at, I saw she had set aside the bandages that she put on my head last night. My gaze becoming a bit more serious as I noticed a small bit of blood had soaked into it.

"You are fine. The worst that might happen is a small scar," her voice was firm but gentle when she reassured me. Taking a few new bandages from her basket before rewrapping my head in a slightly more snug way than last night. When she was done, she gave my head a small pat before pushing the basket towards me. I noticed that it had a small arrangement of foods in it as she stood back up and moved over to a shelf. "Take the mask off so you eat. It's not of use to you if you can breathe the air."

"But we don't know if I can breathe the air. Grace hasn't done the test to see if I could." I quickly try to remind her that it was only a theory that I could live without the mask on Pandora. That I couldn't know for certain if it would possibly to even do it for even a short period of time.

"You seemed to do just fine with it being broken while you slept." My breath caught in my throat as I took in her sudden revelation.

I frantically grabbed the small oxygen tank to see that the capacity was at zero. Frantically taking off the mask, my gaze immediately fell on a small bit of glass that had broken off and leaving a small, but still noticeable, hole. I take a few small breaths to see if anything seemed off, but it all was normal as I kept taking deep breaths.

"I'm not dead," I utter in disbelief as I look back at her in confusion. My mouth hanging open as I try to piece together how that could have worked. "But... how?"

"I believe you had said something about 'fairy blood' last night. Or did you not really mean that when you told me?" Mo'at had a playful grin on her face as she glanced back over at me.

"I'm going to be perfectly honest here, after I fell off that branch last night, I don't remember much of anything. It's all a blur besides from getting here, your daughter Neytiri, and a very grumpy man who shouted a lot."

"Tsu'tey. That is the man you remember. Now eat," she spoke firmly once again before taking a few bottles from the shelf and setting down not to far from me.

I shuffled a little closer to the basket and pick out some of the fruit that was there. Taking small bites as I watch her work on refilling the herbs that she had begun to get low on. We just sat together in silence as she did her work. Occasionally, I would interrupt her work to offer her a piece of fruit that she would take with a ghost of a smile.

Our attention is soon drawn to the entrance when Jake and Neytiri come walking in. I bit back a laugh as I take in the sight of Jake, dressed in the traditional clothing and covered in mud with a few cuts here and there.

Jake immediately stops in his tracks when he looks at me with wide eyes. "Where's your mask at?!"

"It's broken." I give him a small shrug before I look over at Neytiri. Watching as she went over to her mother and motioned for Jake to come closer and sit.

"What do you mean it's broken?! How are you not dead?!" He continued standing there in disbelief. Completely ignoring the small glare Neytiri was giving him.

"I'm special or something like that." I grab another few pieces of fruit from the basket and hold my hand out for Mo'at and Neytiri. Mo'at takes a piece before Neytiri does the same with a small nod of her head.

Jake just continues to stare in disbelief as he moves over to sit down. I pass him a piece of fruit before giving him a small pat on his shoulder.

"I see he is learning well," Mo'at comments as she passes some herbs over to Neytiri.

"He's a skxawng," she responded before she crushed the leaves into small flakes before moving to rub it into his cuts.

"What does that mean?" Jake looks at Neytiri, hoping she would explain. When she ignored him, Jake looked over to me with a confused look.

"It means you're an idiot." I give Jake a smug grin when I answer his question. Eating another piece of fruit before I glance over at the entrance. Tensing up when I see the Olo'eyktan and the man known as Tsu'tey walking towards us. Lowering my gaze, I lean towards Jake and whisper to him, "Now, try not to be an idiot and keep your mouth shut when they walk in."

Jake rolls his eyes before looking at the two warriors as they walked into the area. I glance up at the two with a small frown on my face. They both look at me and Jake for a second with guarded looks on their face. The Olo'eyktan soon shifts his gaze over to Mo'at with a knowing look on his face as he tilts his head slightly towards the entrance. She nods her head in return before standing up. Mo'at affectionately brushes some hair out of Neytiri's face with a smile. Then she turned to me and softly pats my head before walking down the tree with her mate.

Once they leave, I look back at Tsu'tey to see him already giving me a small glare. I give him an awkward smile which only makes him scowl even more. "Demon," was all he said before looking back at Jake with an even deeper scowl.

"Hey there buddy boy," Jake playfully quips back as he begins trying to wipe off some of the mud on his chest with his bare hands. Though he didn't do much other than just smear the mud around as he smiled like an idiot.

"Accident," he continued to scowl as he looked Jake over. Clearly unammused by Jake's joking attitude.

"Aw. I think he likes you Jake. You should give him a big hug to become friends." I have a grin on my face as I look between the two men. Taking notice of how Neytiri looked shocked by my suggestion one time as I glanced towards Jake.

"He raises a hand towards me, I will cut him," Tsu'tey speaks in a menacing way as he glared at me.

"I know," I laugh a little as I stare straight back at him. Biting my lip as I try not to grin like an idiot at the shocked look on Tsu'tey's face.

"Okay, (Y/n). Reel in the manic for a minute. I think you're freaking them out with your humanly sense of humor." Jake slightly pushes my head in order to bring me back to the moment.

I roll my eyes with a small pout before picking up another piece of fruit from the forgotten basket. Popping it in my mouth and slowly chewing. Looking at the woven floor as I finally mumble something pointed towards Jake, "Virgin."

"What did it call me?!" My eyes widen as Tsu'tey reaches down and grabbed ahold of the front of my shirt. A small scream coming out of my mouth as Jake and Neytiri both shoot up from their spots. Both trying their hardest to get between us and remove me from his grasp.

It had been a little over a month since Jake and I had gotten to Hometree. He had been training hard as a warrior while I learned more about the plant life from the clan healers. Everything was going well for us as time went on, despite the bad start that I had with Tsu'tey. Though he seemed to be convinced that I was in fact talking about Jake and not him after I explained a few human customs that were common among friends.

Jake even had enough approval within the clan that he was able to get Grace to be able to visit. She was shocked about the fact that I hadn't been wearing my mask since we had gotten there. But she was very happy that I was thriving in the environment like she had always wanted for me. She even told me that in another month, I might finally have a viable Avatar to use if I still wanted it even though I apparently could live without it.

But living amongst the Na'vi didn't mean that everything from my life before them stopped. Especially with my unique genetic makeup.

I went over to Jake as he ate breakfast with Neytiri and Tsu'tey. He looked over at me with a smile as I nervously sat down near the group. "Well good morning. You normally don't come and join our group until it's around time for lunch."

I fidget with my fingers as I look at the group, glancing at everyone until I focus on Jake again. "I need your help with something. And I'm only asking because your a good friend and I have to do this today."

Jake's expression becomes serious as he looks over at Neytiri and Tsu'tey. They both appear confused as well when they look at me for an explanation.

I look down at the ground as I bite my lip. My face heating up as I quickly tell them what was wrong. "I'm molting."

"That's it?" Jake seems in disbelief at what I told him. He even laughed a little as he leaned closer to try and get me to look at him again. "That's not too big of a deal. I'm sure you'll be okay."

I glare up at him as I stare him down. Taking a deep breath as I begin to further explain to him the situation. "It is a big deal. I can molt for multiple days sometimes, but I need to get as much taken care of the first day. If not, I could get infections and intense back pains that could last for months. And that's on top of the pain I can normally feel due to having wings."

The smile on his face faded away as I kept talking. His eyes becoming apologetic as he let's out a sigh. "I didn't know it was that big of a deal. Are you sure it has to be today?"

"I'm very sure. Once when I was in high school, I waited two days because I had to focus on studying for some stupid geometry final. When I finally got it taken care of, over half my feathers were gone, molted and perfectly healthy ones. It took months for them all to grow back and I couldn't even sit up in my bed without having someone help me for weeks."

Jake nods his head a little with a serious look in his eyes. "Tell me what you need help with."

"Thank you," I softly mumble as I sit with my back facing him. Slightly spreading my wings for him to have an easier time with helping me. I take a deep breath as I begin to lightly guide my fingers through the feathers. "You just basically brush them with your fingers and let the bad ones fall out. If there are any that are loose but not coming out yet, leave them be. They probably just need a little time to be ready."

It took a few moments, but I finally felt Jake start to work on the back of my wings. I could tell he was hesitant to do it because he didn't want to cause me any pain. As the time went on and I didn't tell him that it was hurting, he began to get a little more confident with each movement.

There was a decent amount of feathers laying around me when I took a small break to look around. Stopping my gaze when I noticed a group of children looking over at me from around a corner a little ways from us. Most of them a little older with what seemed to be their younger siblings. They kept pointing as they whispered to one another. But one little girl stood out as she just stared in awe while looking between the pile of feather and my face.

I smiled a little as I reached my hand out, gesturing for her to come closer. She seemed a little taken aback by my action, but soon smiled as she quickly walked over. She immediately sat down beside me, leaning against my body as she excitedly reached a hand up to touch one of my horns.

"Aen'ya!" Neytiri trys to scold the girl, but I raise my hand to let her know it was fine. Neytiri looked at me with a sympathetic like look. "She is very trusting. But she also still needs to learn to keep her space."

"She's okay. Kids back on Earth would do the same thing. I'm just glad one of the children is doing something other than just pointing from a distance." I smile at Aen'ya as I speak, happy to be a part of her child like excitement. I gently take her hand and she looks spooked by the contact. But she keeps smiling as I move her to sit on one of my legs and hand her some of my discarded feathers.

As she takes them out of my hand, I look back at the small group to see them all looking back in awe. I wave my hand at them to come join as Aen'ya starts to randomly place feathers into my hair. A few of them start to laugh as the excitedly push each other closer as a couple others run off in the opposite direction.

Soon the group comes and sits down closer by as they lightly reach out and touch my wings. They are extra gentle as they laugh with each little handful of fluff they managed to pull out. By the time they have their own little piles, the others that had run off return with their arms full of strings and a couple of baskets full of other little supplies to do whatever they had planned. Passing everything around as a few of them began to hold up a combination of beads they had to my skin with little giggles.

"Wow. You look like you got dragged into a second grade art class," Jake lightly snickered as he leaned back into his original spot once the kids took over for him to get a couple more feathers.

I make a face at him which causes the children to start laughing. But the seem to take his words as an invitation, because a couple of them grab his arms and pull him to sit on the ground. A couple even go the extra mile and do the same thing with Neytiri and Tsu'tey. Neytiri seemed happy with it as she began to help them with what they each were making. Tsu'tey most just sat there with a soft scowl on his face, but he would pay attention to any of the children if they held up something for him to look over.

We all just sit there laughing with one another as the children continue to work on their projects. But soon one of the boys grabs my arm to hold it still as two girls begin tying something around my bicep. I look at it confused until I realized that they had made me an accessory with beads and a couple of my feathers hanging down. Then a few others do the same thing as they tie an anklet on me with wide grins.

I take a look at both pieces of jewelry to see just how uniquely beautiful they were. Smiling as I open my arms out to pull each of them into a hug as a thank you. They all laugh as they begin to lean into my arms for one big hug.

A warm feeling came into my chest as I just held all the children close to me. Staring at each of them as a sense of peace washes over me. Similar to the feeling I had when I watched the movies when I was young. The feeling that I had finally found the place that I truly belong.

~~~

Hi everyone! I hope you enjoyed this little installment. I'm glad for my first request and I'm going to start working on a few other add ons for Silent Treatment and Aggressive Caregiver (I need a masterlist at some point). But have a good day and remember; We are bad bitches, and bad bitches follow boycotting to the fullest. Don't actively give any money to Disney for anything. We're smart and kind people who were raised on revolutions that Disney wrote. I'm sure we can pirate movies from someplace or have the DVDs for the movies. Do your part as best you can. I love you all and stay happy for the year to come.

#avatar james cameron #avatar oneshot #avatar x reader #tsu'tey #tsu'tey te rongloa ateyitan #tsu'tey x reader #jake sully #jake sully x reader #neytiri #neytiri x reader

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bixbythemartian · 13 days

Text

Okay, I wasn't going to say anything, but I've seen posts about this get passed around. And it's probably too late to push back on this, anyway, but I'm so frustrated I feel the need to say to say something. This is coming from a place of love- I just hate seeing this going around, and I want to offer some perspective on the matter.

First of all, regarding that poll where the user did not know how to pronounce 'Miette'- if you look in the replies, it doesn't take long to discover that the OP was genuinely confused about the pronunciation and, when corrected, was working to get it right. That poll came from a place of innocent ignorance. I hope the OP took it down and stopped reblogs and turned notes off or whatever, because some people said some awful shit. I hope you are the kind of person who is kind and understanding, in the face of such ignorance. Or, if you can't be that, I hope you can at the very least be quiet. (And props to the people in the replies who patiently and kindly explained things to the OP.)

Second of all, I've seen a lot of posts talking about literacy rates, and I'd like to point out that English literacy has very little to do with figuring how to pronounce a French fucking word, goddamn. The OP just didn't know. The dunking, the pointing, the laughing- rude, unnecessary, not helpful.

Thirdly, in response to the complaints of 'they don't even teach phonics in schools these days'- that's bullshit. Because the odds are very good that they didn't teach phonics in schools when you went to school, either.

When I was a kid, it was called Whole Language. It was the new hot literacy technique, and a lot of schools adopted it. It used cueing techniques and sight words and was very similar.

If you're a millennial, you might remember the commercials for Hooked on Phonics, and you might conclude that teaching phonics in schools was perhaps not common, if you think about that for a bit. If it was worth it to sell a whole reading tutoring program for struggling readers based in phonics, perhaps it might lead one to conclude that phonics weren't as common as other methods, right? You might not have been taught phonics to start. What you do know about phonics, you might have picked up in the past 20-30 years, right?

Okay. Lets go back further, you know Dick and Jane? It was based on, more or less, the same sight words principle, and those primers date from the 1930s, although I don't think that teaching technique came really into vogue until the 40s.

If you are alive, today, in the United States, the likelihood that you were not taught phonics in school is well above non-zero. Especially if you're a millennial.

The notable exception is the 1970s. And during that period of time, there were probably plenty of schools that still used fucking Dick and Jane. And plenty of schools that were starting to adopt Whole Language, because while it was popular in the 80's and 90's, it was developed before. So, Gen X, you didn't get out of this unscathed either, though you had a better chance of getting a phonics-based reading program, I think.

'Kids these days' are not less literate because they were taught wrong. A great deal of us who are alive and speak English as a first language were taught wrong.

(I also think this is the common way English as a Second Language is taught and I'm sorry if you learned sight words, it's so much less intuitive than phonics, and English phonics aren't particularly intuitive. But I know a lot less about this, and I'm not sure.)

The reason some younger people struggle with language and words that I, for example, don't, is that I've been reading and speaking the language a lot longer. That's it. That's likely the same thing for you.

Please quit mocking people for their lack of information, for a start. I don't blame you for not knowing this about the literacy programs, for example. I had to do a lot of research on this. Right? Odds are good, you didn't know this.

And you are hitting people who struggle with literacy for other reasons- English as a second language, for example. The people who deal with dyslexia, there's plenty of autistic people who struggle to communicate fluently in their first language, and many more people who struggle with learning, speaking, and otherwise communicating in English for a huge variety of reasons.

Even if you're right, you're hitting people who had no choice in the language method they were taught from. They were five.

I don't think people mean to be unkind, generally (some do, but we block and move on), but it's really frustrating to a lot of snark circulate without the greater context of 'actually, a lot of English speakers of all age groups were taught English this way, especially USAmericans' and 'hey, what does English literacy have to do with pronouncing a French word, anyway?'

Okay? Okay.

Love you bye

#literacy

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imajinxnation · 26 days

Note

Heyyy I saw that you wanted fic ideas and I love your other keanu fics. I hope this is one you want to write for, but if not that's ok xoxo

Would you be able to write a fic about Neo losing his virginity again (kinda) to the reader in the real world and it's also really fluffy. Maybe they're alone on the Nebuchadnezzar (idk why lol).

Tysm in advance 💕

Second The Best

Neo (Thomas Anderson) x FEM!Reader

SUMMARY // Soft (and kind of uncomfortable) sex with Neo in the Nebuchadnezzar

TW // Fluff, Smut, Soft Sex, Losing Virginity(kinda), Raw Sex (if you don't want kids, don't do dat)..

ALL GIFS FROM PINTEREST

Neo is my soft bb boi and I love him

Lmk if I missed any warnings!!

"A-are you sure..?"

"I've never been more sure of anything in my entire life.."

You and Neo are in his room on the Nebuchadnezzar, cuddling on his small bed while waiting for the other crew members to come and get ready to leave. They wouldn't be there for awhile, having to help with things around Zion and clean up a giant mess that was made, which could take hours. That meant you and Neo got to enjoy some quiet time on the ship before the rest come and ruin your peace and quiet.

"I never actually got to experience sex in real life.. and I think it's only right that I lose my real virginity to you.." Neo says, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nod slowly, taking in his words. While you're in thought, Neo stares and admires your facial features as if you're the most beautiful goddess he's ever seen. He can't help himself and leans over you to kiss you while you're in deep thought. Your eyes widen once his soft lips land on yours gently, but quickly your eyelids flutter shut at the beautiful sensation of his soft and loving kiss.

Your hand slides up the side of his neck and to the back of his head, your hands brushing over the port in the back of his head, his hair slightly covering it. Your hand runs through his short hair, nails scraping against his scalp, sending shivers down his spine at the relaxing feeling.

Neo breaks the kiss slightly and looks in your eyes, his deep, chocolate brown eyes staring lovingly into yours.

"Please.. I want this.." He whispers, placing his forehead gently onto yours.

"Okay.." you whisper back, kissing him once more, this time a little more desperately.

"Mm.." Neo lets out a low moan as he kisses back, his hand snaking around your waist and pulling you closer to him, your legs tangling with his on the bed.

You pull back, breaking the kiss and begin to leave gentle kisses down his cheek to his jaw, then to his neck, stopping at the junction between his neck and shoulder. You nibble and suck lightly on that spot, making him moan softly. Your hands slide up his shirt, feeling his body, and brushing your thumb over one of his nipples, making him let out a breathy laugh at the ticklish sensation. You smile into his neck, loving the way he laughs.

You tug at his shirt, wanting to take it off. He gets the hint and sits up, pulling his shirt up over his head and tossing it onto the grated floor.

"All those martial arts programs did wonders.." you mention, grazing your fingers down his the middle of his chest and stomach. He shivers, his need growing as you touch him gently.

"Ugh.. I need you, please.." he groans in a low tone as your hand stops at the waistband of his pants.

You smile gently and pull back, crawling off the hard mattress and pull your plain shirt off, kicking off your boots and shoving your pants off, leaving you in your underwear. Neo lifts his hips and pulls down his pants aswell, tossing them to the floor, adding to the pile of your clothes on the metal floor.

"Fuck.. (Y/n), you're gorgeous.." Neo whispers, his eyes scanning your body, engraving every curve of your body into his memory.

He sits at the edge of his small, uncomfortable bed, his cock straining against his underwear as he watches you strip off your bra, your breasts falling out with a slight bounce. Neo swallows hard, his adams apple bobbing in his throat as he admires your soft breasts. The size.. shape.. beautiful.

You smile and blush, walking over slowly to sit in his lap, your clothed core rubbing up against his strained erection, making him groan. His large hands roam all over your body, starting from your calves, his hands gently caress up to your thighs, your hips, grazing over your ribcage and wrapping his hands around your breasts gently, squeezing the soft flesh. He leans his face closer and gently takes your left nipple between his lips, sucking softly, pulling it between his teeth slightly every now and then while pinching your right nipple lightly between his fingers.

"I need you so bad, (Y/n)," he says, pulling away from your nipple and laying his head in your soft chest.

"Have me.. you have me," you respond, running your hand through his hair softly.

That was all it took, Neo's fingers traveling down your body to pull your panties off, then his briefs right after, throwing them to the floor. You look into his eyes for the go-ahead, and he nods, hands placed on your hips, guiding you as you position yourself over him. You steady his cock in your hand and sink down onto him, his length filling you to the brim.

You gasp at the feeling of his cock stretching you out, and so does he. It takes a moment for both of you to adjust to the feeling of each other. Neo slowly pushes you down further on his cock, suggesting he wants you to move. You let out a shaky breath and comply, rolling your hips onto him, moaning softly. As you start to bounce on his cock faster, he wraps his arms around your middle, burying his face in your breasts as he moans your name..

"(Y/n)! Ah.. fuck, you're so tight, so warm.. so fucking perfect," he groans and moves you to lay down on the bed, his cock still inside you.

He begins to thrust slow and hard, savouring the feeling of your warm cunt squeezing around his cock. As he thrusts, he leans down to kiss you gently, wrapping his arm around the back of your neck before breaking the sweet, sensual kiss and laying his cheek on the side of your forehead, groaning into your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

His pace starts to quicken and his thrusts shallow, making you moan out in pleasure, knowing he was so close.

"Neo! Wanna cum.. wanna cum with you, ah!" You moan out, lifting his head with your hands to make him look into your eyes.

He grunts and nods, bringing a hand down to rub at your clit, making you gasp and moan louder, moving your hands to cling onto his shoulders, your nails digging into his freckled flesh as he continues thrusting into you, his fingers rubbing at you fervently.

The knot in your stomach becomes too much and Neo can sense your impending orgasm, so he thrusts harder, his own orgasm nearing, his fingers rubbing at your clit faster.

"Fuck, gonna cum!" You gasp out, eyes widening as the knot in your stomach snaps, sending waves of pleasure through your body, your nails digging into his shoulderblades, almost breaking the skin.

"Yes!" Neo grunts and gives a few more thrusts before coming undone. He stills, his cock throbbing and balls tensing, his cum spurting into your warm and welcoming pussy.

Neo collapses on top of you, panting, his cock softening inside of you. He slips out gently and lays between your legs, his head resting on your chest, satiated and out of breath.

"Well? How was your second time?" You grin down at him, petting his soft hair lovingly.

Neo grins back and rolls his eyes playfully, "Well.. you know the saying. Second's the best."

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a-small-writer-in-a-big-world · 10 days

Text

System error: android!reader x kyle gaz garrick

You had to get into contact with your engineer.

Something had short circuited when you were at the pub with the others. You had felt a little too warm when Sergeant Garrick had touched you and suggested that you stay despite having done what you were asked to do.

You didn't understand it. Not the way that they had continued to want to bond with you or the way that your processors reacted to it.

Something must've gotten corrupted when you researched how to act in a pub setting. You knew that if you didn't delete the information off of your hard drives, your engineers would be upset but it had to stay in order for them to figure out what the issue was.

They'll scrap you for it but it was for the best. Your job still needed to be done and if you were malfunctioning then you needed to be replaced.

You were on your way to your office to get into contact with them when you saw Gaz waiting outside your door.

You weren't sure what to do as he gave you a smile, one that made you stop what you were doing, and you watched him carefully as he came up to you.

"I was wondering where you went, I wanted to invite you to lunch." He offered and your processors froze. "Unless you already ate."

"Why?" You asked and he raised an eyebrow.

"Just trying to be friendly is all."

Friendly. You understood that the reason why he was trying to be friendly was because he saw you as a person and not a machine, an oversight on those who designed you, and now it was becoming a problem. They must've not expected any of them to be considerate enough to want to make a connection with you, which to you seemed to be a massive mistake.

These men made connections with everyone, you didn't need to read through their records to know that.

What were they thinking? What were you thinking?

You don't think. That's not possible.

You blinked a couple times, frozen in your spot as your processors raced to compute a response as well as make sense of what exactly was going on inside you.

Meanwhile Gaz stood in front of you with slight concern and confusion as you stared at him with the same wide eyed look you had last night at the pub.

"It's okay if you don't want to." He assured you and you blinked a couple times. "I'm not trying to put you on the spot."

For some reason you didn't want to disappoint him. He was making an effort to befriend you and it would be for the betterment of everyone if you were on good terms with them. It would make everything easier and yet his effort was frying your circuits.

Instead of telling him no you did the unthinkable.

You lied.

"I have already eaten but I will join you, Sergeant Garrick." You told him in a split second, unable to really understand why you said what you did.

"Great." He nodded for you to follow him. "And you can just call me Gaz, don't have to be formal with me."

You nodded and filed that information away as you walked beside him. You tried to pay attention to what he was saying but you were focusing hard on trying to sort out whatever was causing everything to go haywire within you.

It had to be a corrupt file. A virus maybe. Something was breaking everything inside of you and making you do things you weren't programmed to do.

After lunch you had to fix the issue.

"I'm glad you decided to join me." Gaz caught your attention again. "Was a little worried about you."

"You were worried about me?" You couldn't help but be confused.

Gaz gave you a sympathetic look. His eyes turned serious as he glanced back at your office and nodded.

"Yeah...you spend a lot of time in your office working. This job takes a lot out of you and I've seen it eat people alive." He explained and your eyebrows knitted together. "So I'm worried."

"But you don't know me." You pointed out. It's not like he could get to know you, there was nothing to figure out considering you were just a set of walking code.

Gaz shrugged.

"Well I'm trying to right now."

You felt something from that. You're not sure what the feeling was but you knew that you felt something as the wires and the fans inside your whirred to life. It sent something through you and you could feel everything inside become overwhelmed.

This wasn't supposed to happen and unfortunately it was because of Gaz.

"I have to leave." You turned around, hoping to get to your office before everything inside you combusted.

"Wait-"

It was almost immediate that your processors forced a shut down. Your entire body slammed against the floor with a loud metal bang.

A/n: i too would breakdown if Gaz asked me to lunch (i still don't know how to write androids lol it might get better)

#android!reader #klye gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick x you #gaz x reader #gaz x you #kyle gaz garrick #call of duty #gaz garrick #kyle garrick

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luxyue · 3 months

Text

knife boots — part i.

xiao x reader, figure skating au

masterlist

➥ NEW VOCAB ❝ quad ❞ any four revolution jump

i. this is why they say don't meet your idols

the wednesday 6:00 am session is the best, in xiao's opinion. there's usually nobody there, maybe shenhe and occasionally ganyu or keqing. it's specifically reserved for international competitors, so everyone knows their way around the ice—including how to stay out of each other's way. xiao can run through his program as many times as he needs, without popping a jump just because an inexperienced skater got in his way.

not that he pops his jumps very often. or at all. he might fall sometimes (no, he doesn't), but if he starts one, he'll see it through no matter what.

it's now 6:31 am, and xiao finishes working on his step sequences. he moves on to freestyle, deciding the rest of the session will be spent on jumps. maybe just a spin or two at the end if he has time.

he starts with his triple salchow. the first triple he learned, just like everybody else does, and it has been loyal to him ever since. running through the rest of his triples is a formula that's stuck to him like glue. toe loop. loop. flip. lutz. axel. then repeat, but as quads this time. easy as pie. all goes well, and he's about to do the final one, his quad lutz.

that is, until you walk in.

with a slam, he falls hard. literally.

zhongli glances over with slight concern, before going back to converse with you.

no, it's not that your looks particularly catch his eye or anything. of course not. but it's you, y/n l/n. someone nobody has seen or heard from in three whole years. what are you doing here of all places, with his coach no less?

whatever, he thinks, deciding to mind his own business considering there's only 5 minutes left on this session. ice time is expensive.

but it's too late, zhongli and him make eye contact.

"ah, xiao! good morning. could you please come here for a second?"

well, it's not like he could say no, so he skates over to the boards, although begrudgingly, where zhongli seemed to be showing you around.

"this is y/n. although i believe you've seen her before, haven't you?"

of course xiao has seen you before. at the grand prix final, then at four continents, and finally at worlds. but that was all three years ago, and he hasn't seen you since.

"i have. a while ago," he responds.

zhongli smiles. "well, you have plenty of time to get acquainted now. y/n will be skating here with us from now on."

skating with—wait, what?

"i thought she skated for snezhnaya?"

"used to. but um, not anymore," you speak up for the first time, and xiao looks over at you, as if seeing you for the first time, finally registering your presence. his brows furrow in confusion.

"actually, i've invited ms. y/n to skate for liyue this season." zhongli adds for you.

xiao doesn't know what to think of this. how.....strange. snezhnaya wasn't known for letting their best skaters go, after all. "and they allowed it?" xiao asks, the question directed at you.

"allowed would be a generous term to use," you say sheepishly, "but let's just say they didn't have much of a choice."

xiao gives you a look of skepticism, not quite sure what to think, but in the end, chooses to say nothing.

zhongli clears his throat. "ahem, well, i'll leave you two to acquaint yourselves. y/n, feel free to get on the ice at any time." as he leaves, you shoot him a glance that obviously screams help me, but he doesn't notice. typical zhongli.

it's just you and xiao now. great.

xiao used to be your favorite skater of all time. you admired him greatly, not just because of his jumping capability, but because of the grace and artistry he carried himself with. the way he flew across the ice was simply captivating, and every skater would give anything to have his talent and skill. not to mention he's.....insanely attractive.

and now, you finally get to meet your idol in person. just not in the way you expected.

"i don't know what you're doing here, but in liyue, skating is skating," he says, suddenly breaking the silence.

you look up at him in confusion. "what else would it be?"

"i'm saying we don't need the drama that happens in snezhnaya," he says curtly.

you do understand what he means, and he isn't completely wrong. snezhnaya had built a reputation over the years, known not only for their superb skaters, but for the drama amongst their students and coaches as well. but, to suggest you would cause drama, just because you had represented snezhnaya?

"so the rumors are true," you say.

xiao raises an eyebrow. "what rumors?"

"that you're an ass."

he blinks at you once, and twice, then three times. "what?"

"you're not exactly known for being a ball of sunshine, i mean."

he looks at you as if he can't believe you just spoke to him that way. "and that's not my job. i'm being paid to be a good skater," he says.

"right, i forgot. because you don't have to worry about a good reputation like the rest of us," you murmur.

he narrows his eyes at you. "and what do you mean by that?"

"everyone loves you. nobody would ever write an article about your bad attitude because frankly, your ever-growing fanbase could care less." you refer to xiao's immense fame, both in liyue and the rest of teyvat. there was no discussing figure skating without discussing xiao, because simply put, he was the best anyone had ever seen.

"i don't need advice from you of all people on that," he says curtly.

wow. "and what is that supposed to mean?"

"you went a single season before you caused one of the biggest scandals of our sport. and now? you're irrelevant. do me a favor and don't walk in here acting like you're better than everyone from now on. last i checked, you haven't won a thing in two years. get over yourself."

xiao steps out of the rink, snaps his skating guards on in two quick motions, and storms off.

...

it's only 7:49 am, but you're done. wiped out. dead. deceased.

you try a triple salchow, the easiest triple jump. you could do it without a thought before. you make your turn as straight as possible, and launch into it—

you fall.

get over yourself.

whatever, salchows were never your favorite anyway.

skipping over toe loops, because who needs those, you move on to triple loop. you have a love-hate relationship with loops, but before your two-year break from the sport they were starting to grow on you.

you fall again.

you haven't won a thing in two years.

nope. no way. xiao's words will not be getting to you. no matter how much you used to idolize him.

triple flip time. flips are your favorite, so this has to work.

it in fact, does not work.

you're irrelevant.

shaking your head, you get up. it's probably a bad idea, but you go for it anyway.

skating on a backwards outside edge, you draw your foot back and reach, picking into the ice. you spin once, twice—

you went a single season before you caused one of the biggest scandals of our sport.

you slam into the boards.

okay, ouch. that's gonna leave a bruise, and as much as you hate to admit it, xiao's words were eating away at you. they were harsh, yes. but deep down, you knew that everything he said was, in some way, true.

"y/n l/n? is that you?"

lifting yourself off of the ice, you peek your head over the boards and see a boy with fluffy light blue hair and matching eyes in a fascinating shade of blue, full of curiosity.

"oh...hi?" shit, what was his name again? something with a c? ummm—

"i don't know if you really know me....we never formally met, but i'm chongyun," he says quietly.

"chongyun! of course i remember you, you were one of my favorite skaters on junior!" you exclaim.

hearing this, his pale skin turns a deep red. "m-me? really? but you're like, one of the best skaters to ever exist..."

"yeah...well...i only did senior for one season, haha. i don't think that's enough to say i was one of the best," you say sheepishly.

chongyun shakes his head in disagreement. "no way! after all, how many other skaters can land that many triple axels and quads in one program?"

xiao can.

the mention of triple axels and quads makes you flinch.

"sorry...did i say too much?" he lowers his head.

"no, of course not! it's just..." you don't finish.

"what is it?"

"to tell you the truth, i can barely land a triple right now. i've barely touched my skates in the last two years. zhongli agreed to let me skate here, and even represent liyue...but how am i supposed to do that when i can't even land a triple salchow?" the gravity of your situation is hitting you now. your comeback to the sport would not be as easy as you had envisioned.

chongyun seems to think for a moment, processing everything that you just told him. "well...at one point, landing quads was a piece of cake for you. i think that if you can do that, then you can do anything." he looks at you with determination.

you smile. "thanks chongyun. i'll definitely try my best."

after all, what else could you do?

#figure skating au #genshin fanfic #genshin impact #xiao genshin #xiao x reader #genshin #figure skating #chongyun #zhongli #fanfic #x reader

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mads-weasley · 2 years

Text

Hold My Hand: Part One

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Wife!Pilot!Reader

Masterlist

| Part Two | Part Three | Part Four |

A/N: I saw Top Gun: Maverick, and the only thing I can say is that my mind is completely blown. WOW. I don't know if I've seen a better movie, and that's saying something. Also, MILES TELLER WITH A MUSTACHE, WHO WOULD'VE THOUGHT, AM I RIGHT? Anyways, this fic was born out of my instant obsession with Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw. I do not own any of these characters except (y/n). Enjoy!

Summary: (Y/n) and Bradley share their last night before the mission together...

Warnings: mentions of death, extreme sadness, slight fluff, idk?

(y/h/c) - your hair color

(y/e/c) - your eye color

italics - flashbacks

"hen" - your callsign

Tomorrow is the day. The day of the mission. The day they could lose everything. As (y/n) and Bradley walked out of the base to their car, silence filled the air. Normally, the couple would rarely shut up while around the other, but they knew the risks involved with the upcoming mission. The life they had built together was now in jeopardy.

Bradley gently intertwined his hand with (Y/n)'s over the middle console of his truck, knowing she needed something to pull her from her thoughts. After being married for two years, he knew how to get her out of her own head.

"Hey, babe, what do you want for dinner? You can choose and I won't even complain," he said with a smirk, turning to look at her briefly.

A small smile of her own painted her face, making his heart flutter. After all the years they'd spent together, she never failed to give him butterflies.

"No complaining?" she laughed, "I'll believe that when I see it, rooster."

His hand flew to his chest, feigning offense, "I promise you, Mrs. Bradshaw. On my pilot's honor."

"Sure, sure."

"What are we having, though? Cause I'm starving."

(Y/n) rolled her eyes as they pulled into their driveway. "You'll just have to wait and see."

With a small whine, he turned to see her getting out of the truck.

"(Y/n/n), come on. I'm serious."

"So am I," she whispered, leaning into the window before entering the house with a smile.

Watching her figure disappear into the house, he couldn't help but think back to the first time he saw her.

Four Years Ago

Walking into The Hard Deck for the first time, Bradley felt nostalgia wash over him. Memories of his dad played in his mind as he walked up to the bar. Wearing his signature Hawaiian shirt and aviators, he almost looked like a tourist.

"Did you lose your tour guide?" a voice said on his right.

He spun towards the voice. "Actually, I'm a-"

When he saw who the voice belonged to, the words got lost in his throat. A (y/h/c) girl in a beachy tank top and shorts, wearing some aviators of her own stood before him with a smirk on her face.

"You alright there, buddy? Cat got your tongue?" She laughed.

"Yes ma'am," he grinned, "It's just- well, you look like a tourist yourself."

A loud laugh escaped her mouth as she stuck her hand out. "(Y/n) (y/l/n)."

"Bradley Bradshaw, but everybody calls me ro-" he started but was interrupted by a shriek of joy calling his new friend's name. Glancing over her shoulder, her eyes lit up at the sight of her old friend. Smiling even wider, she looked over to him, "I'll see you around, Bradshaw."

"See ya."

Watching her figure disappear into the crowd, he ran a hand down his face. 'Oh, I'm in trouble.' He whispered to himself.

The Next Day

"Recruits. Welcome to Top Gun. If you made it here, you're the best of the best. Here, you'll be tested to your limits and shown what you are truly capable of as pilots."

(Y/n) was seated at the back of the small room as the Captain gave them the rundown of the program. Looking around, she could almost smell the testosterone in the air. She was one of two female pilots in the class, so she knew what to expect. What she didn't expect, though, was the handsome mustache guy from the bar to be sitting a few rows in front of her. Things started to make sense in her mind as she connected his slight ego with being a hotshot pilot.

Since their encounter, she couldn't get his stupid smirk out of her mind. She had never been the kind to get caught up on a guy, but something about him intrigued her. 'You can't get distracted,' she told herself and focused back on the Captain's speech.

She sighed in relief, realizing he hadn't seen her at the end of the briefing. As soon as they were dismissed, she bolted out of the room, not staying to talk to anyone.

Walking out of the briefing room, Bradley saw a familiar head of (y/h/c) rush around the corner. He could've sworn it was the girl he met last night, but what were the chances she was here for Top Gun too?

Leaning over to the recruit next to him, callsign "Payback," he asked, "Who's the (y/h/c) who dipped before everyone else?"

He looked around. "It was probably Hen."

"Hen?" Rooster asked incredulously.

"Yeah. It's her callsign. I don't know her personally, but all I know is that she's the best of the best."

Chuckling, Bradley laughed at the chance he had a crush on a girl with the callsign "Hen."

Later that day, the class met up at The Hard Deck. The second Hen walked in, Bradshaw pushed off the wall he had been leaning on, intercepting her at the pool table.

"Hey there, Hen." He smiled cockily.

She returned the smile, "It's Rooster, right Your callsign?"

"Yes ma'am. Rooster and Hen. Isn't that somethin?"

Payback overheard the conversation, laughing loudly. "You know what that means! You two have to get together now!"

With a playful scowl, she turned towards him. "Remember, I can easily shoot you out of the sky, Fitch."

"Very funny, Hen. I can do the same."

Rooster joined the conversation with a laugh. "Can you, though? I've heard she's the best of the best."

Payback's face falls. "Damn it, Rooster."

Gently putting his hand on the small of her back, Bradley ushered them towards the bar, getting two drinks for them. Little did he know, his touch had sent goosebumps across her body.

"So, why Hen?" He asked, looking down into her (y/e/c) eyes.

She raised her eyebrows, taking a sip of beer. "Well, I grew up on a farm, and it was my childhood nickname, so it just stuck. Why Rooster?"

Something flashed in his eyes at the question, but she couldn't decipher what. "My dad was a Navy pilot too. His callsign was Goose. He died in combat when I was really young. I guess Rooster is pretty close to Goose."

"I think it's pretty darn close."

He chuckled slightly. "Look at us. We're practically half a barnyard between the two of us."

Laughter filled the space between them. When it faded out, they were merely a few inches apart, eyes meeting expectantly. The tension in the air could be cut with a knife as both started to lean in slowly. Just as their lips were about to meet, Penny rang the bell behind the counter causing cheers erupting around them. Pulling apart, Rooster smiled, closing his eyes and letting out a huff of air. Opening them, he saw (y/n) was doing the same.

Present Day

(Y/n) was cooking with her AirPods in, so she didn't hear Bradley sneak up on her. He wrapped his arms around her from behind, making her jump slightly. Pausing her music, she peered up at him.

"Bradley Bradshaw! Don't you scare me like that!" She scolded him with a smirk.

Kissing her on the temple, he whispered in her ear. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I just wanted to hold ya."

Her smile faded. "We need to talk about it. I can't just act like it's not happening."

"I know."

Sighing, he softly grabbed her hand and led her into their bedroom. He sat against the headboard, tucking her close into his side.

"I'm scared, Brad," she sniffed, wiping a few stray tears that streaked down her cheeks.

"Me too." he paused, trying to keep his composure. "I'm not scared of dying. I'm scared of losing you. You're my whole life and I know I couldn't live without you."

The quiver in his voice didn't go unnoticed. She cupped his cheeks gently. "You know I feel the same way. There's no Rooster without his Hen, huh?"

A small smile graced his lips as tears spilled over his waterline. "I love you more than anything, Hen."

"I love you more, Roost."

The couple embraced tightly, sobs escaping both of them. The family they might never start flashed in his mind. The birthday parties and family vacations they might not have.

After a while, they pulled apart, eyes red and puffy, (y/n) breaking the silence. "We're going to make it through this, but if something goes wrong and I don't, I-"

"No. Don't. Don't say that." he pleaded.

The tears made their appearance once again. "I-if something happens to me," he shook his head, refusing to listen to her confession. "I left a letter in the glove compartment of your truck...I pray you never have to open it, but just in case, I wanted you to know."

"You're going to be okay. I'll make sure of it."

"Can you just hold me? I just want to stay right here, right now with you."

Smiling tearfully, he rubbed his hand down her arm. "Always."

She leaned up and kissed him softly, snuggling into his side as he wrapped his arms around her, bringing them as close as possible. Within minutes, (y/n) had fallen asleep on Bradley's chest. He leaned down and kissed her temple.

"I love you, Hen. Goodnight, sweetheart. We're going to be okay."

Part Two

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weirdsociology · 1 year

Text

Distractions (The Mandalorian, E)

Title: Distractions (6.6k)

Series: Part one of Creed, a non-linear series about Din Djarin and his favorite... distraction.

Description: An artifact from the Mandalorian's past leads to trying something new - and remembering the past.

Pairing: Din Djarin x Female Reader

Content warnings: Explicit sexual content, sex toys, fingering, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, oral sex, penetrative sex, implied violence, spit, a touch of size kink, light manhandling, very mild D/s in all directions because we love a switch in this house, no betas we die like men, canon what canon

Tropes: hurt/comfort, idiots with feelings, angst but it all works out in the end, the helmet stays on

Author's note: I blacked out, I don't know what happened, and frankly I'm embarrassed that the first fanfic I've written in 20 years is kind of fluffy and not significantly more insane. This little offering is canon timeline-agnostic; I just wanted to give our armored dumbass a happy ending. Please don't think this reflects my personality, I am spiritually covered in the blood of my enemies at all times. Also there is one small bit of truth from my personal life in here and I'll give you a hint: it wasn't flashbangs, it was bayonets. This one is for @tarabyte3 who got me excited about what fanfiction can do again.

***

Sometimes, it's hard to sleep in hyperspace. A ship this old doesn't have the automated circadian rhythm programs that dim the lights according to species preference, and all the daylight bulbs are second-hand, their blueness dimmed by repeated use. Darkness is in plentiful supply, but that's only half the equation of an artificial night. You do your best, careful to check the time reads on the navigational display, and adhere to a schedule as much as you can. It helps give structure to long periods of transit, and you know that ten years from now, your body and mind will thank you for being careful to guard their rest.

The Mandalorian, by contrast, doesn't have a diurnal cycle as far as you've been able to tell. His sleep patterns are pure anarchy, having nothing to do with mood or physical need. Sometimes he'll spend a week getting no more rest than a few brief, truncated minutes on the ground after trekking in harsh terrain. Sometimes you'll go looking for him after a quiet stretch in flight and he'll be in the bed he calls his rack, completely dormant for the next fourteen standard hours. You don't know how he does it. He lives like someone who fully expects to die before their body has enough years to register protest - which on the one hand makes you anxious, and on the other you find it hard to blame him for.

Still, despite all your attendance to regularity, there are nights - times - when you can't sleep. Especially when you are headed past the Outer Rim, and the length of travel means nothing to do except read and watch holovideos you've already seen and eat stale food and exercise in cramped, artificial repetition. Nothing new to look at, nothing new to do.

Which is how you end up awake at this hour, dressed in nothing but your bandeau and shorts with goosebumps pebbling your legs as you lean over one of the big crates in the cargo bay. You're digging through the thermoplastic case that holds the Mandalorian's personal possessions, looking for one of the old holonovels you're sure he has stowed, when you find it. A smooth, round black cylinder with a cap on each end. At first, you suspect it's yet another esoteric firearm - but then why isn't it in the weapons locker above?

Curious, you gingerly remove the cap from one end. Life on the ship has taught you to be cautious about any unfamiliar object. You don't know if it's normal Mandalorian living style to have to shove aside a mountain of electronic flashbangs when looking for clean blankets, but it's certainly normal for this one.

What's inside isn't like any weapon you've ever seen. The cylinder is filled with something soft and yielding, silicone or plastisilk you think, and it gives disconcertingly when you brush a thumb over it. There's a small bore in the middle about the diameter of your finger, but the polymer feels like it would stretch. It's textured near where the cap would fit, small ridges inside and a gentle flowering of protuberances around the borehole. Almost like -

You stand up, unsure whether to blush or laugh, and snap the cap back on. You've certainly found something new this time; something that might help break the monotony of space travel if you approach the topic - and Mando - correctly. If you're right there should be something else nearby, something that would make this a little more... usable.

There is. A discreet bottle, neatly wrapped in plain paper.

You take cylinder and bottle and step out in the corridor from the bay, checking the location of your fellow crew. Mando is not in his rack or the lockers, which means he's in the cockpit. The Child is in his usual nest. It's late, and the kid should be asleep for a long while yet. You jam the - the toy, you suppose - and the bottle into one hand and climb your way up the ladder, half appalled at your boldness and half delighted at the thought of making your Mandalorian squirm for once. You're secretly hoping to catch him out, tease him with the evidence of his private sexual habits, a friendly nip around the edges of his Creed.

"Look what I found," you say as you approach the pilot's chair. His head is turned away from you, bent over something in the navcomp, his long legs in front of him as stretched out as they can be in the small space. He hums an acknowledgement and takes a moment to finish entering something before he looks over his shoulder. You offer the cylinder to him flat across your palms, like a knight offering a loyal blade, which you hope is both funny and at least a little charming.

It doesn't work. He's still looking at you. You wave it in front of him instead, resisting the urge to waggle your eyebrows. The helmet drops to consider the cylinder, then you. "I'd forgotten I had that. Where did you find it?"

You stop, hands still outstretched. "Forgot-- your crate in the cargo bay, but... is this what I think it is?"

Mando can't raise his own eyebrows at you, but his chin twitches upward in the way you've learned to interpret is the same thing. "Do you think it's a cock sleeve? Because it is."

"Is that what you call it?"

"I've always been less concerned about what to call it than how to use it," he says. He's fully turned to face you now. The conversation is not going as you imagined. You flush and he gives you an appraising look, taking in your half-undressed state.

"Isn't that... Against your Creed?" How does he do this. How does he always turn the tables. How is it you're the one quailing under the calm scrutiny of his helmet. You'd meant this as a good-natured ribbing, not a come-on, but suddenly you're picturing what you were decidedly not thinking about earlier - Mando, years ago, alone in his rack or fresh from a hunt, with his beskar still on and his arming jacket rucked up, screwing the toy down onto himself with his fist. The thought makes heat pool between your legs. It also makes you a little melancholy. Suddenly you want to fuck him and hold him in equal measure.

"You weren't always here, you know," he says calmly, honest and unembarrassed as he is shockingly honest and unembarrassed about everything to do with sex. He reaches for you, captures your wrists, pulls you further into the cockpit and down into his lap. You thrill as always at his casual possessiveness, his desire to be close. At the breadth of his shoulders under your hands. "The Creed isn't against pleasure, only distraction. Sometimes it's more distracting to make your body suffer than to give it what it wants."

"Like me?" you ask. It's a joke that once would have stung, an echo of your first night together - you are nothing to me but a distraction from my work - but it's an old wound, long since rubbed over by the smooth edges of time and shared affection.

An amused huff through the modulator. "Like you," he agrees, and though the helmet dampers every inflection you now know, where once you only imagined, the statement is fond.

***

You'd been traveling together for months, a reluctant passenger paired with an unhappy custodian. It had been weeks since the first time the tension between you rose to the breaking point, pulling his hands to you like a gravity well. You were now fucking the Mandalorian regularly, enthusiastically, and, at least to you, inadequately. Regardless of how well you took him, how perfectly he fit when he slicked and stretched his way into you, your heart hammered the same rhythm: no room, no room. His attitude toward you had made that abundantly clear. There was no room for you in his life, on his ship, in his Creed. You were his... distraction. That's all.

You mostly ignored it. When you were working or hunting, you barely thought about it. You pushed the thought down and stored it away to keep from slicing yourself on its sharp edges. But there were moments when it pressed forward again, tumbling out of the drawer of your heart in disarray. The Mandalorian was behind you or over you or under you and you were crying out the name you knew him by even as your blood rushed in your ears demanding more. Not more sex, not more of the heavy punch of his hips against you or the feeling of his hands in your hair, but more of him. You wanted him. You wanted everything.

You wanted to know what it kriffing meant when he called you his distraction.

And sometimes, after you had been fucked within an inch of your life and left lying on your bunk or still pressed against the weapons locker, it hurt a breathtaking amount.

You were pretty sure the Mandalorian was not unaware of how he affected you. Beyond that first epithet which became routine, he was not intentionally cruel. Away from the heat that flared between you and his resentment at his own inability to ignore it, he was considerate and distant and respectful. Unfailingly polite. You loathed every moment of it with a growing bitterness that threatened to replace food and sleep. It reminded you of the time you'd run into a recruiter after she’d turned you down for a job. Sorry kid, you had your chance to convince me and you blew it. Except Mando, being Mando, had never given you a chance at all.

It was worse when you fucked. For weeks, you had resolved over and over to put an end to his careful handling of you. Better an angry rebuttal or cold silence than... whatever this pitiful halfway connection was. Next time he approached you with that weight in his step or crowded you into a corner, too close, you would force his hand. You knew that was the time to do it, when you had his full attention and the bargaining chip of your body. You'd seize his wandering gaze and stare into the helmet: "Why do you call me a distraction?"

You had told yourself this a dozen times. But his practiced fingers were already slipping inside you and all you could do was whine as his modulated voice, sounding not quite human, breathed a word that meant nothing to you in your ear: Mesh'la, mesh'la, mesh'la.

***

You had entreated him to show you how he used it, before you joined his crew. Before, as he drily puts it while running a gloved hand up your thigh and teasing along the waistband of your shorts, he had a far superior array of options. Now you're mostly naked in the dim light, seated between his spread legs, his helmet tipped against the headrest as he leans back. You're watching the arched column of his throat, watching his gloved fingers wrapped around the cylinder and most of all, watching his thick cock disappear into the plush expanse of the toy. He's hard but not fully erect, probably because you refused to touch him until you got to see him touch himself. Not that you needed to threaten - you both know that Din, and it's Din now, in the privacy of the cockpit with both of you partially undressed and warmth radiating from him, will deny you nothing where his body is concerned. Except, of course, his face.

His cock is stirring to full attention, and you suspect it has more to do with your rapt gaze on him than his own ministrations. It's a novelty for you to watch him for once. The way you two fuck, he normally has the better view, pulling back to see your cunt swallow his length and hear you moan in gratitude. He likes to watch you touch yourself while you're speared on him, chasing your own orgasm as you clench. He likes to see your thighs tremble when you ride him, and your face when he makes you come too much. "One more, mesh'la, one more for me, let me see you," he'll croon, as one hand worships your sore clit and the other bats away your arm as you try to bury your face in the crook of your elbow. Din likes to watch anything that shows him how good he makes you feel.

Your Mandalorian might be on to something, you decide. Watching certainly has its appeal. You can hear the soft slide of the toy, see the tension in his forearms and his stomach even through his tunic, his breath through the helmet fast but even. He looks gorgeous like this, a warrior half-undone for your enjoyment. You slide the palms of your hands up his thighs and run them lightly along the bare skin peeking through where he's partially shucked himself of armor and clothing. His breathing alters a little, hitching as your skin makes contact with his.

"How does it feel?" you ask, watching the steady rise and fall of the cylinder. You idly trace a finger up his groin and along the sensitive skin just under his sack. He hisses, and you twitch in response to the noise you know so well, your cunt giving a little spasm as if to remind you of its needs.

After a moment, Din answers your question. "Tight, but not warm. Better than nothing but... Like a ration bar when I have a meal right in front of me," he adds pointedly, and one booted foot slides between your folded knees, leather rubbing along the seam of your sex to make his point clear. "I like that you like looking at me, but we could have bought a mirror instead. I could be fucking you in front of it right now."

Your cheeks warm as you think about it: Din, arching over your back, holding your chin, making you watch your own face as he nudges the head of his cock into you. You don't know how you'd feel staring at yourself like that, but your cunt twitches again, letting you know that more important parts of you fully approve of the concept. The helmet has dropped back down. He's observing your reaction. You file the idea away for later. "I like seeing you like this, though. Did you really never use it after you met me?"

A chuckle. "Oh, I used it. Before... when you were first here. I used it so much I think I did permanent damage."

A little shiver of heat winds up from the base of your spine. This is new information. But he's not done. "Which is why I should be allowed to show you how much I appreciate you, not this plastic junk." He makes a show of slowing down, grinding up into the toy and letting out an exaggerated groan. You know he's still watching you closely, waiting for his cue.

You give him a wicked grin. "Sometimes... it's more distracting to make your body suffer than give it what it wants." Din groans for real in response, but you have other things on your mind. "Back before... when you... were you thinking of me?"

He makes an uninterpretable noise. "Oh no, mesh'la, I wasn't thinking of you. Only of your hips. And your hair. And your tits. And your ass. And your cunt, and if I could get you wet for me, and what that pretty mouth would look like around me, and how you'd sound when I put my cock down your throat."

"... Fuck," you say breathlessly. What started as a flutter has become an aching, empty pulse. "Fuck, Din," and you lean forward, bringing your face almost close enough to nuzzle where he's still sheathed in the toy, breathing in his scent. It has the unintended effect of driving the tip of his boot further into you, a solid mass pushing on the thrumming bundle of nerves between your legs.

When you first started doing this, he said very little to you. You could read nothing in his body except desire and frustration, both of which he extinguished in the furnace of your sex. Later, after Mos Eisley, when anger was no longer the single note of your shared existence, he talked to you constantly. The man of few words outside the ship became the man of many words when he was buried inside you. He told you what he was going to do to you, what he wanted to do to you, how good you felt and what you did to him. He talked like he was trying to construct a gilded cage of words you wouldn't fly away from. You had been dumbfounded by the change, shy and unsure, unable to find a way to reassure him you had already stooped to his lure. Part of you was afraid that if he knew the truth - that you'd have him any way he wanted, silent or talkative or babbling in Tuskan sign - he would stop. He hadn't, but the stream had slowed. More deliberate, less frantic. Somehow even more indecent.

He's being indecent right now, timing the strokes of the toy with his words. "I wanted you every morning and twice at night." Down. "I couldn't think - could barely shoot straight." Back up. "I wanted to bend you over the crates and fuck you until you felt the same." A slow slide back down. "Fill you up with me until you cried, until you knew you were mine, until that sweet cunt wouldn't want anyone else." Up, until just the tip of him is still out of sight. He's losing his even tone, the modulator turning gasps into static. "And then I did fuck you, and it got so much worse. You let me pull you open and put my cock in the hottest, wettest place in the galaxy and-- are you really going to come on my boot instead of letting me fuck you?"

You come to with a little start, pulled aware by the abrupt shift in subject. There's dampness under you, and you realize you've been rocking back and forth on his boot, rubbing the folds of your cunt against the worn leather, and moaning into his lap while he talks. It feels so good to be here, sitting at his feet as he strokes himself for you, hearing the jagged details of your shared past transformed by pleasure. The scruff of the boot against you, the bite of a seam into your tenderest flesh, the smell - steel and old smoke and hot sand - so uniquely Mandalorian it has you panting for him.

"Din," you breathe. "Stop -- stop. I want to feel you."

That's all it takes. The toy is gone in an instant, he's off the pilot's chair and dragging you upright and his half-bare hips are against yours, crowding you into the console. His cock is painfully hard against you, already smeared with precum and the lubricant that makes someone of his size using a toy like that even possible. You realize with dizzy delight that this is going to be one of those times where he fucks you without preamble, pushing his way in, making you feel every inch of his invasion. The pleasurable burn of your cunt adjusting to his girth will be revenge for making him use the toy - a revenge he knows you will enjoy.

More leather, this time at your mouth. The feel of his glove as he curls his fingertips under your chin. "Spit," he commands, and you do.

"Good girl. Now turn around."

***

It was after the first time he'd had you in the cockpit that you'd found the courage to ask. It had already been one of the worst days of your life, what more was there to lose? You were so numb there was no cliff you wouldn't jump off, no risk you wouldn't take. If you asked and the answer was indifference, well, it was just one more pain to add to the litany: your cracked lips, your shredded feet, your bruised ribs, your bloodied hands. And soon, maybe, your broken heart.

Mando had left, as he always did, after you were done, leaving you on the steel floor mostly naked and entirely without the desire to stand on your own. You told yourself that you would simply sleep there, if you had to, rather than getting back up on your cut soles. After all, you'd slept in worse places recently. Though you'd meant it to be fierce the thought sounded pathetic even to you.

The sound of boots climbing up the ladder interrupted your self-pity. Mando had not only come back, he had come back with a box: the medkit he kept in a crate in the cargo bay. He knelt beside you on the floor and started to lift you to him, one hand on your back and one hand under your knees. It was close and familiar in the worst possible way, like the fuck wasn't, and you made a hoarse inhuman noise and tried to kick him. You slammed a broken toe into a beskar vambrace instead and then you screamed for real.

He was patient with you and you hated it with every aftershock of white-hot rage in your body. You struggled even once he managed to get you up in his arms. After a bad moment where you thought you might actually try to bite him, he stopped attempting to haul you down the ladder and dropped both of you into the pilot's chair abruptly instead, pulling his hands away like you'd burned him. "Hey, it's me, just me, the one who's on your side," he'd said, attempting a touch of humor, and strangely it was the buzz of the modulator, so unlike the voices you'd been hearing for the past few days, that had incrementally slowed your galloping heart.

The medkit was in reach and at first he was gentle but even that was too much. You pulled away without leaving the chair, putting distance between you and that damned helmet. All you wanted was to rest, except you were afraid of what you might have time to think about if you did. There was a tense minute as he resumed his work with gauze and tape and bacta spray, but even in your exhausted state you somehow felt him make the decision to stop trying to be tender. He took your cue and bandaged you with impersonal efficiency, like you were a soldier in his regiment or a fellow Mandalorian. It made his touch tolerable, and you were so tired you almost resented him for it.

By the time he was done, you were nearly asleep. You heard the click of the medkit closing and, calmer now, a little more returned to yourself, braced for him to lift you down the ladder. But he surprised you by making no move to get up, resting his hands on his legs, around you but not on you. You could tell he was waiting for something but not what. Maybe it was something from you, but you were all out of give. It was his turn.

Another moment of silence, then momentary confusion as you both spoke at once:

"I have to tell you so--"

"Mandalorian, why are you--"

He stopped. You pressed on. "Why are you always calling me a distraction?" Your tone was flat. You sounded like you could be asking about the price of power cells.

The helmet twisted. This was clearly not the direction he expected your post-coital, post-triage conversation to take. "Because you're distracting."

You thought anger might be the only thing keeping you upright. "Not good enough. What the fuck are we even doing here? Why did you come after me? You told me we were done, that you didn't owe me anything. You could have left me there and pocketed the bounty for yourself. They would have let me go once they convinced themselves I didn't have the information.” A lie, but he doesn’t need to know that. “That doesn't sound like I'm just a distraction."

"I said you're distracting, and you are. That's different." You were sure he was being pedantic but your tired brain couldn't keep up with Mando at his most evasive. "You're not just a distraction. I don't make a habit of coming back for-- distractions."

Coming back for was a polite euphemism for the amount of killing Mando had done in the past few hours. None of it mattered to you if he was doing it because of his damned Creed. Maybe none of it mattered at all. Maybe you had kept your mouth shut for nothing. Your chest hurt and you had no idea if it was because of your ribs or because of your heart. You kept going.

"It makes no difference if I'm a distracting fuck or something worth coming back for or a kriffing bantha, Mando. I'm still..." Exhaustion made you blunt. "I'm still against your Creed."

He made a noise that could have been agreement, or negation. "The Creed is not against pleasure. Or companionship. Only... distractions." He sounded like he was reading out of a textbook. You'd heard it all before. You had wrung everything out of him you could about his Creed, because you wanted to find somewhere to fit. That was all he'd ever said.

He surprised you again. "Distraction is a-- it's not easy to describe. It's not as simple as wasting time or effort. Distractions are... things that pull you from your orbit without returning value, like a comet disrupting a planet's path around a sun. Too many and you begin to drift away from the tribe, the Creed, the things that make you a Mandalorian. You lose yourself chasing what streaks past you, already gone."

That little speech was probably the most words you'd ever heard Mando say at once, and there was too much there for you to process in your wasted state. You latched on instead to the thing that seemed most personally insulting, given how you'd been spending your time the past few days. "Maker, Mando, do you think that's all I am, a comet? That you'll turn around one day and I'll be gone? Do you think I did-- what I did– what we did– for fun? Do you think that's all you are to me?"

There, you had said it. Or at least implied it. Your cortisol response gave one last death rattle and suddenly you found you could sit up a little straighter, could feel your pulse in your throat. Your feet ached.

There was a long silence.

Then the Mandalorian sighed, and in that sigh was more defeat than you'd ever heard after a hunt gone wrong. The sound seized you and squeezed your breath as it stuttered in your chest. When he spoke, it was low, tired, and edged with brutal honesty. "No mesh'la. I don't think you're a comet. Not after... today."

And that, somehow, was what did you in: his surrender. The first acknowledgement of what you had endured for him and what you'd done together and what it meant between you. You dropped your face into the filthy duraweave of Mando's shoulder, not caring if you caught the edge of beskar beside it. Something boiled up in you and you weren't sure what it was, only that you snapped your mouth closed hard over a noise like being struck and fisted your hands in his tunic. All the fear you'd put aside came slamming in, the torrential wave presaged by an empty beach. You drove yourself as close as possible to your Mandalorian and shook as though a blaster bolt had found its home in your brain after all.

When you knew where you were again, you found you had shifted - or he had shifted you. You were curled between his legs, your arms still around his neck, your face against where his cheek would be in the cruel parody of a kiss. You froze for a moment, anticipating the helmet to feel hostile against your lips, but it was only Mando, the smooth silver of him that you'd come to know and expect. With sudden resolve you drew back an inch or two, away from the spot where your mouth left a sliver of fog. Your heart beat in your ears, marching steadily onward toward its inexorable conclusion. You had always known what you needed to do for both your sakes', and now you even thought you knew the bargain that could make it bearable.

"Mando," you whispered. "If that's the way it is, I wouldn't... I would never ask you to go against your Creed. I couldn't."

The warrior under you was so still you feared he might not respond at all. Then he blew out another long breath and put his hands around your waist, impossibly solid against you. It was the second time that night he'd reached for you with gentleness and, leaning against him, you could nearly imagine what it would be like to feel safe again. It would have been so easy to sink into shared delusion. But you owed him something more.

"I couldn't," you said again. "You couldn't. We could never-- it would never be right between us. I don't want that." You were certain you were crying by then, silent tears racing down your cheeks. "But please... I'm not ready yet. I'll leave tomorrow. Please, please... just give me tonight."

The hands on your waist spasmed, gripping you so hard that for one deranged instant you thought he might throw you down on the steel and fuck you all over again. He did the opposite and hauled you painfully upright, stood you in the tight space between his knees and the console. You winced when your abused feet took your weight. His own posture and the set of his shoulders told you absolutely nothing. He was still holding you like a lifeline.

"No," he said. After everything you'd done it was absurd that one word could make you want to crumple to the floor again, but you stayed upright, nails digging into the console for support. "I won't give you just tonight. I know you. You walked into that warehouse for me. You were so afraid for me you couldn't be afraid for yourself. You bled-- you killed-- because you hoped it would buy me time. I know you. Now you're offering– this. I refuse. You're not a Mandalorian, but your courage puts ours to shame. Who would I be if I returned your loyalty so little of my own?"

"Mando, what are you saying?" You were so numb with exhaustion that you weren't sure you had it in you to hope. You tried to keep your gaze steady, but you knew your eyes were wet.

"Stay with me," he said quietly. You did crumple then, your knees turned to water, and only his grip still on you kept you standing. "Stay with me, and let me prove my honor to you."

"Yes," you breathed, and that was all he needed. He hauled you to him, pulling you down, until your chest was pressed to him as he ran his gloves frantically over your neck, your shoulder blades, your hips. You rested your forehead against his, against the blood-warm beskar, and waited. You wanted nothing more than the feeling of his hands on you but you were so tired. "Will... will the tribe understand?"

A pause. He slowed, but did not stop, tracing soothing heat across your body. The blank faceplate tipped up to gaze out at the desert night. "Some will. Some won't. It doesn't matter. How I feel about you can't be against the Creed any more than my helmet. You can't turn a thing against itself." His head was still turned away, looking past the canopy to the starless sky outside. "You aren't a distraction from my Creed, mesh'la, and you never have been. You're part of it. You make me a better... a better Mandalorian."

His hesitation did not go unnoticed. You heard what he didn't say: a better man.

***

The problem with having sex in the cockpit is that when you want - no, need - to lay down afterward there isn't quite room for both of you between the chairs. Also, the floor is that textured, anti-slip steel they use for gantries, which pokes uncomfortably into bare flesh. You end up squashed together, half on top of your Mandalorian, letting his still partially-armored back take the worst of your combined weight as you roll on to your side and throw one leg over him, pillowing your head on his pauldron. It's not ideal, but after the three orgasms he pulled out of you with as much dedication as he'd ever chased down a bounty, you don't really have a choice. Going down the ladder in your current state might actually be the thing that kills you.

Din is still breathing hard from his own climax, sought only after he'd made you so sensitive that he'd had to put a callused palm over your mouth to keep you from shrieking and waking the Child. He'd started, as you thought he would, by pulling off your flimsy shorts and shoving the thick head of his cock into you with no preparation other than telling you to bend over the console and stay quiet. You'd cooperated, knowing that the position put his mouth conveniently close to your ear, and were rewarded with that smooth modulated voice telling you he was going to make sure you never made him use a toy again, never want his cock in anything but you. He told you he was going fuck you so thoroughly you'd beg for him to let you come on his cock. He'd started rough, his pace matching the coarseness of his words, and you'd bitten down your whimpers at the stretch.

But Din knew you far too well to let you off so lightly. Fast had turned to slow and deep, caging your hips with one forearm while skillful fingers lightly circled your clit, never giving you quite enough pressure to get you where you ached to go. Then you had begged, and he'd almost given in: pulled out of you abruptly, replacing his cock with three fingers after ripping off his gloves. You'd come so hard Din had groaned at the feeling of you clenching around him, your legs trembling uncontrollably, but even that wasn't what you were hoping for and he knew it. He'd coaxed you to a second orgasm by turning you around and crudely shoving his knee between your legs, making you ride the textured cuisse on his thigh. He'd insisted you work for it, rubbing yourself against him and leaving streaks of arousal on the beskar, and that was less satisfying still. Only after you'd gotten yourself off did he ask you what you wanted, and by then you were so needy, so desperately raw and sex-drunk, that all you could do was whine, "You-- please, Din-- you." The sound of his name seemed to shred whatever last bit of composure he had left, and he'd pressed into you harder than ever as your hand dropped to provide the friction you'd needed. You'd come apart with him buried deep, your cunt gripping him like a vise, and he'd followed not long after, your name on his lips as his cock twitched and softened in you.

The nice thing about steel floors, you decide, is that they're easy to clean. You can feel Din dripping out of you and you're pretty sure you're going to leave a wet spot. You’re also pretty sure that the cylinder rolled under one of the consoles and is still jammed there, but that's a problem for later. You pull yourself even closer to him, enjoying his warmth in the shared quiet, watching the strange false light of hyperspace dance outside the canopy.

You don't notice that Din’s turned his helmet to you until he speaks. “Another 26 hours and then we’re off this boat.” He sounds relaxed, pleased both with your current configuration of tangled limbs and the prospect of no longer being confined to the ship. “Felucia is a jungle world. Plenty of frogs for the womp rat to chase.”

You grin. “Or eat. How long are we staying? Are we dropping in somewhere civilized or staying off the radar? And who are we even after? You didn’t show me the puck yet.”

“Off the radar, and this one’s a solo job.” You start to protest, but he stops you. “Really. The contact says he’s holed up in a cave in the middle of nowhere. We’ll set down in the nearest open spot, then it’s half a day overland to the hideout. No point in you coming, nothing for you and the kid to do but get wet and feed the gnats.”

After space travel, a hike doesn’t sound unpleasant, but you know he’s right. There’s no reason to go to the extra trouble of packing supplies for two more when it’s a straightforward retrieval. At least you and the Child will get to explore your landing site. You can do your work outside in the open air, and if all goes well, Din will only be gone a day or two.

“Hey,” you say softly. “You’ll come back, right?” It’s only half a serious question. You trust your Mandalorian. You’ve trusted his competence and drive and ability since the moment you met him, and have learned to trust that his desire to return to you is real. Still, you always ask. It’s a private ritual between you, something soft built over top of hard truths.

You think of the times he’s left you. To work a job or on a hunt or sometimes just for the cold, hard recesses of his mind where you cannot touch him. Once, although you try not to remember it, for a black and shaking depression that terrified you both. Most of all, you think of that night, on Mos Eisley. The crunch of sand under his boots as he turned away. The glimpse of beskar through the door. The feeling of his hands on your battered ribs. His voice, very tired, I don't make a habit of coming back for distractions.

"Of course I’ll come back, mesh'la." You’ll never not thrill to Din’s electronic baritone calling you beautiful. "How could I do anything else? You're part of my Creed."

***

series masterlist

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian fanfic #the most interesting part of mando is how his creed doesn't constrain him specifically but requires him generally #star wars #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x female reader #this ones owes a lot to a lot of other excellent writers #thank you all for sharing your talents with me #long post #pedro pascal

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