#GG's daughter!reader

[graciegoeskrazy]

sooooooo…. thunderbolts x teen!r orrrrrrr

[iamquiantrelle]

BLOOD OATH (chapter 1) • iamquaintrelle

# pairings: mob!lewis hamilton x black reader (☔️⚡️)

# tags: @queenshikongo3 @httpsserene-main @simplyyalika @peyiswriting @sunfairyy @yeea-nah @nichmeddar @gg-trini @serpenttines @lewisroscoelove @purplelewlew @henneseyhoe @saturnville @donteventry-itdude @snowseasonmademe @szariahwroteit @amirawrah @imjustheretomanifest @iamryanl @greedyjudge2 @beauty-gurl @hotfudgeslug @jessnotwiththemess

# summary: A marriage of convenience between crime families was supposed to be simple. No one mentioned it would be this complicated...or this deadly. masterlist

# a/n: I'm here for a good time not a long time....trying something new and don't worry I will come back to Wilo & Juju but I needed some rest out of the footballer world.

next chapter |

Sunday mornings in the Ricci household were sacred— literally. No matter what blood had been spilled or what deals had been struck the night before, the family attended 9 a.m. mass at St. Anthony's without exception. Your father, Salvatore Ricci, would sooner put a bullet in a man's head than miss confession.

Last night's cleanup had been particularly messy. You'd overheard enough on your way to bed to know someone had talked to the feds. By morning, the problem had been "resolved," and your father had prayed extra long during confession.

You adjusted the simple gold cross around your neck as you sat in the third pew, the same spot your family had occupied for as long as you could remember. Your three younger sisters fidgeted beside you while your mother gently shushed them, her dark hands elegant against their designer dresses. Francesca Ricci, née Williams, had become the very picture of a mafia wife over the past thirty years, though the journey hadn't been easy. Being Black in the traditional Italian underworld had meant proving herself twice over, earning respect through unflinching loyalty and quiet strength.

You'd inherited her brown skin and sharp eyes, along with what your father called "that stubborn American backbone." The combination of your mother's Jamaican-American heritage and your father's Calabrian blood had given you a face that turned heads—not that anyone in your father's circle would dare look too long. Not after what happened to Tommy Venucci, who'd made a crude comment about mixing bloodlines at a family gathering three years ago. He still walked with a limp.

As Father Donato delivered his homily about the prodigal son, you found your mind wandering to the meeting scheduled for that afternoon. Suitor number four. The mysterious Englishman you'd heard whispers about for weeks. Your father's capos had been arguing about this one—bringing in an outsider, a non-Italian, was controversial. But his reputation preceded him: ruthlessly efficient, technologically savvy, and with legitimate business fronts that even the FBI couldn't crack.

Three men had already come to present their cases to your father. Three men had measured you like prized livestock, their eyes calculating your worth in territory and influence rather than seeing a woman with a mind of her own. The Sicilian had practically drooled, his reputation for violence preceding him—you'd seen the photos of what he'd done to a rival, the body barely recognizable afterward. The Irishman had been old enough to be your grandfather, his breath reeking of whiskey even at noon, hands stained with decades of other people's blood. And the Cuban... just the memory of his eyes on you made your skin crawl. Your father's men had whispered about his "special room" where women who displeased him disappeared for days.

"Peace be with you," Father Donato intoned, snapping you back to the present.

"And with your spirit," you murmured along with the congregation.

Your mother squeezed your hand, somehow sensing the direction of your thoughts. She'd been in your position once—the daughter offered as a bridge between families, though in her case it had been to bring peace between rival factions in New York. Your grandfather had run numbers in Harlem until the Italian families decided to expand their territory. Instead of war, they'd chosen marriage. At least she and your father had found genuine love over the years. You couldn't imagine being so lucky.

"He'll be here at three," your mother whispered as you all stood for the final blessing. "I've heard he's... different from the others."

Different. You'd been hearing that word a lot lately. Different business model. Different approach. Different standards. But at the end of the day, he was still a man looking to acquire you like a business asset.

Back at the estate, you changed from your church clothes into something more appropriate for meeting a potential husband—a knee-length navy dress that was modest enough to please your father but tailored enough to command respect. You weren't about to present yourself as either a nun or a trophy.

From your bedroom window, you could see your father's men patrolling the grounds, Berettas and Glocks barely concealed under their jackets. Through the iron gates, you caught glimpses of the cars parked along the street—not just your father's security, but watchers from other families. The Sicilians in particular had been keeping eyes on the estate since their heir had been rejected. In this world, wounded pride often led to bloody retribution.

"You're not even trying to look excited," Sophia, your youngest sister at seventeen, lounged across your bed, scrolling through her phone. "I'd be thrilled if Papa was setting me up with a hot British guy."

"You don't know that he's hot," you replied, securing your hair into a sleek twist. "And I'm not excited because I'm being traded like a racehorse."

"Better than being stuck with Lorenzo Bianchi," she shuddered, referring to the Sicilian. "Did you see those teeth? Like a shark that chews tobacco. And those gross neck tattoos that look like he let a drunk toddler draw on him."

You couldn't help but smile at her assessment. "True. Or Patrick O'Malley with his wandering hands and breath that could strip paint. Pretty sure he was checking out your ass too, by the way."

"Ugh, stop! I still have nightmares." She made a gagging sound. "At least the Cuban was good looking, even if he gave off serial killer vibes."

"Raúl Suarez doesn't just give off those vibes. Why do you think Papa suddenly had that basement remodeled after his visit?" You raised an eyebrow meaningfully.

Sophia's eyes widened. "Wait, seriously? I thought that was just a rumor."

"Talia in the kitchen overheard Papa and Uncle Paolo talking. Three girls went missing from his clubs in Miami last year. No bodies, no witnesses."

"Jesus Christ," Sophia whispered, crossing herself reflexively. "And Papa was still considering him?"

"The Suarez connection would have opened up shipping routes we need," you explained, repeating what you'd overheard at the door of your father's study. "Business is business."

"See? That's why this British guy might be better!" Sophia sat up, suddenly serious. "Papa wouldn't choose someone horrible for you. Not really."

The faith your sisters had in your father was touching, if naive. Salvatore Ricci loved his daughters fiercely, but business was business. The empire always came first—an empire built on gambling, protection rackets, and increasingly, designer drugs that catered to Wall Street instead of street corners. Class had always been your father's obsession; he wanted the Ricci family mentioned alongside the Gambinos and Genoveses, not relegated to some minor footnote in mafia history.

A knock at your door announced your mother, elegant as always in a simple black dress, gold at her throat and wrists—the uniform of a donna who knew her worth.

"He's arrived," she said simply. "Your father wants you downstairs in ten minutes. Not before."

The power play was familiar—make the suitor wait, establish dominance from the start. You nodded, applying a final touch of lipstick.

"Is he..." you hesitated, unsure what you even wanted to ask.

Your mother seemed to understand anyway. "He's older. Established. Carries himself with confidence." She paused, something like surprise crossing her face. "And he's... not what I expected. Quite striking, actually."

That piqued your interest. Your mother wasn't easily impressed by men's appearances.

"And he came alone," she added. "No entourage."

That was unusual. Most made a show of strength, bringing captains and consiglieres to these meetings.

"Smart," you mused aloud. "One man alone in the lion's den shows he's either foolish or fearless."

"We'll see which," your mother replied with the faintest smile. "Ten minutes."

You used all ten, not out of vanity but strategy. The longer this Lewis Hamilton waited, the more you could observe without being observed in return. The security feed on your tablet showed the grand study where these meetings always took place, giving you a perfect view of the potential fourth suitor.

He sat perfectly at ease in one of your father's leather armchairs, legs crossed casually, declining the offered espresso with a polite gesture. Not a hint of nervousness or impatience crossed his face as the minutes ticked by. Unlike the others who had fidgeted, paced, or tried too hard to impress your father with crude jokes, this man simply existed in the space like he belonged there.

What struck you immediately was how different he looked from what you'd expected. Your father's world was full of either old-school traditionalists in tailored suits or younger men trying too hard with flashy designer clothes. Lewis Hamilton was neither. His suit was impeccably tailored, yes, but modern in cut. More noticeable were his looks—his hair styled in neat braids with a precise fade at the sides, double nose piercings glinting subtly in the light, and multiple earrings in both ears. Tattoos covered his hands in intricate patterns, and you could see more ink peeking above his collar.

Your father, old-school to his core, would typically dismiss such a man instantly. The fact that he hadn't spoke volumes about what Hamilton must be bringing to the table.

At thirty-nine, he had fourteen years on you, but carried them well. Not a young hothead with something to prove, but not an old fossil clinging to outdated ways either. Even on the grainy security feed, you could see his eyes were sharp, missing nothing.

"Time," your mother called softly from the hallway.

You tucked the tablet away and took a steadying breath. Whatever game this Englishman was playing, you weren't about to be a passive piece on the board. If your hand in marriage was the prize, you'd make damn sure everyone understood exactly what they were getting.

The walk downstairs felt longer than usual, each step bringing you closer to a future being decided by men's ambitions rather than your own desires. But unlike many in your position, you weren't entering this blind. Years of listening at doors, reading files left unattended, and cultivating your own network of informants meant you knew more about your father's business than he realized. You knew about the cops on payroll, the judges who could be bought, and exactly how many bodies were buried in the foundation of your father's newest hotel development. Knowledge was the only power you'd been able to accumulate—and you intended to use it.

As you approached the study doors, you heard your father's distinctive laugh—a rare sound in business meetings. Whatever Hamilton had said had genuinely amused him, which was either very good or very dangerous.

You straightened your shoulders, lifted your chin, and nodded to Marco, your father's most trusted guard, to announce your arrival.

The conversation inside went quiet as Marco opened the door. "Signorina Ricci," he announced formally, a small nod of encouragement just for you.

Three sets of eyes turned as you entered—your father's familiar scrutiny, your uncle Paolo's curious assessment, and the cool, evaluating gaze of Lewis Hamilton, who rose smoothly to his feet.

Up close, his presence was even more striking. The tailored suit couldn't quite mask the physicality beneath—this wasn't a soft businessman but someone who clearly maintained his body as meticulously as his appearance. The tattoos on his hands were mathematical in design, all clean lines and precise geometry, nothing like the crude symbols the Irish thugs or Italian soldiers typically wore. His braids were perfectly maintained, the fade on the sides mathematically precise. The piercings that should have looked rebellious somehow just enhanced the sharp angles of his face.

Your father gestured you forward. "My daughter," he said simply. "The jewel of our family."

You extended your hand as you'd been taught, expecting the usual kiss that suitors performed with varying degrees of sincerity. Instead, Hamilton clasped it firmly in a handshake, as if greeting a business equal rather than a prospective bride.

"Ms. Ricci," he said, his British accent crisp and refined. "Lewis Hamilton. I've heard a great deal about you."

"Strangely," you replied, meeting his gaze directly, "I've heard very little about you."

A flicker of something—surprise, perhaps amusement—crossed his face so quickly you might have imagined it. Your father cleared his throat in warning, but Hamilton didn't seem offended by your directness.

"Perhaps we can remedy that," he said, releasing your hand and gesturing for you to sit.

As you took your place in the chair beside your father, you noted how Hamilton waited until you were settled before sitting himself—a small courtesy the others hadn't bothered with. He moved with the fluid economy of someone comfortable in his own skin, his attention seemingly casual yet you could feel the intensity of his observation.

This was a man who missed nothing, categorized everything, and revealed only what served his purpose. In that, at least, he was like every other man in this room.

"Mr. Hamilton was just explaining his unique business structure," your father said, the enthusiasm in his voice telling you he was already impressed.

"Legitimate enterprises supporting our more... specialized operations," Hamilton explained, his voice low and measured. "Technology has changed our world. The old ways of doing business leave too many vulnerabilities."

"And what exactly are your specialized operations, Mr. Hamilton?" you asked, earning another warning look from your father.

But Lewis Hamilton didn't seem troubled by your question. In fact, the corner of his mouth quirked up slightly, not quite a smile but an acknowledgment.

"Let's just say I provide certain hard-to-acquire items to people with specific needs," he replied smoothly. "And ensure that financial matters remain... private. In today's digital world, that's becoming quite the valuable service."

Guns and money laundering. The cornerstones of power in your world, dressed up in polite euphemisms. You'd seen the reports on your father's desk—Hamilton's operation was smaller than the traditional families, but his weapons were military-grade, his financial networks impenetrable even to federal investigators. He'd built something sleek and modern while the old families were still using ledger books and cash drops.

"My daughter has been educated at the finest schools," your father interjected, clearly trying to steer the conversation back to safer ground. "Fluent in four languages, accomplished in music and art."

You fought the urge to roll your eyes. The sales pitch was always the same—as if your college degrees and cultural accomplishments were nothing more than decorative features, like listing the premium options on a luxury car.

"Brilliant," Hamilton nodded, but his eyes remained on you rather than shifting to your father. "And what gets you going beyond your formal education? What interests you?"

The question caught you off guard. None of the others had bothered to ask about your interests. They'd been content to let your father extol your virtues while they imagined you in their bed.

"I'm particularly interested in business strategy," you answered honestly, curious to see his reaction. "Especially how traditional operations can adapt to changing markets and technologies."

Your father shifted uncomfortably beside you, but Hamilton leaned forward slightly, his interest seemingly genuine.

"Any specific areas?" he pressed, ignoring your father's obvious desire to change topics.

"Digital currency," you replied, deciding to test how seriously he'd take you. "Its implications for our particular... industry. The blockchain creates both opportunities and vulnerabilities that most traditional families haven't begun to address."

A flash of genuine surprise crossed Hamilton's face before his expression settled back into its usual controlled mask. "I'd be proper interested in hearing your thoughts on that sometime," he said, a hint of his British vernacular slipping through the polished exterior.

The conversation shifted then, your father guiding it toward the proposed alliance between families. You sat quietly, observing rather than participating, noting how differently Hamilton conducted himself compared to the others. Where they had boasted and promised, he stated facts. Where they had emphasized tradition, he spoke of innovation. Where they had leered, he maintained respectful distance.

It didn't mean he wasn't dangerous. If anything, the control he exhibited made him more so. This was a man who wouldn't lose his temper and lash out—he would calculate exactly how much force was needed and apply it with surgical precision. You'd heard whispers about his operation in London—small but lethal. People who crossed Lewis Hamilton didn't end up beaten or threatened; they simply disappeared without a trace.

As the meeting concluded, Hamilton rose, shaking your father's hand and your uncle's before turning to you once more.

"It was a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Ricci," he said, his eyes meeting yours directly. "I look forward to our next conversation."

The certainty in his voice suggested he already knew your father's decision—or was confident enough in his proposal not to doubt it. Either way, something told you Lewis Hamilton wasn't a man accustomed to hearing the word "no."

"Until next time, Mr. Hamilton," you replied neutrally, giving nothing away.

As Marco escorted him out, you felt your father's eyes on you, assessing your reaction.

"Well?" he asked, unusually interested in your opinion. "What do you think?"

You considered your answer carefully. "He's different from the others," you admitted.

"Those piercings," your uncle Paolo muttered, shaking his head. "And the tattoos. Like some street thug."

Your father waved his brother's concerns away. "Times are changing, Paolo. His operation is smaller, but cleaner. More modern. The connections to legitimate business would give us protection we currently lack."

Protection. That was what this had always been about. Your father had built an empire on blood and loyalty, but times were changing. The old ways were becoming more dangerous, and Salvatore Ricci had no son to guide the family into the future.

Just four daughters, with you as the eldest—the crown princess who could never wear the crown yourself, but could place it on the head of a worthy husband.

"You'll have dinner with him tomorrow night," your father said, not a question but a command. "Alone. I want to see how he conducts himself with you when we're not watching."

A test, then. For him, or for you, or perhaps for both.

"Whatever you think is best, Papa," you agreed, mind already racing with possibilities.

Lewis Hamilton was undoubtedly the most intriguing of your suitors, but that didn't change the fundamental truth of your situation. You were still a commodity being traded, a bridge between empires.

The question now was whether you could turn this arrangement to your advantage—and whether the careful control you'd glimpsed in Lewis Hamilton would prove to be your prison or your opportunity.

*************************************************

The next evening found you standing in front of your closet, contemplating the impossible task of dressing for a dinner with a man who might own you by the end of the month. Too conservative would suggest meekness, too bold would offend your father, and either way, you'd be telling Lewis Hamilton something about yourself before you were ready for him to know it.

"The black Tom Ford," your mother suggested from the doorway, always able to read your mind. "Elegant but not trying too hard."

You nodded, pulling out the dress in question—a simple black sheath with architectural details at the neckline that walked the perfect line between sophisticated and interesting. Like armor disguised as silk.

"You know you don't have to do this if you truly don't want to," your mother said quietly, closing the bedroom door behind her. It was a conversation you'd had before, one that always ended the same way.

"And what's the alternative, Mama?" You slipped off your robe, stepping into the dress. "I run away and do what exactly? With what money? What protection? How long before someone uses me to get to Papa?"

Your mother sighed, moving behind you to zip the dress. "I just want you to have choices I didn't have."

"You chose Papa," you reminded her, meeting her eyes in the mirror. "Eventually."

"I grew to love your father," she clarified. "I was lucky. Not every arranged marriage turns out that way."

You turned to face her. "Do you think he's decided already? On Hamilton?"

Your mother's expression was measured. "Your father was impressed. And the message that arrived from the Bianchi family this morning may have sealed it."

"What message?" This was news to you.

"Lorenzo's father sent over a 'reconsideration' proposal. Doubled the territory offer, added shipping routes through Sicily."

You couldn't hide your disgust. "So he's literally trying to outbid Hamilton for me?"

"It's business," your mother said simply, the phrase all of you used to rationalize the uglier aspects of your life. "But your father was... displeased with the approach. Said Bianchi should have led with their best offer, not tried to undercut after the fact."

You turned back to the mirror, applying your lipstick with perhaps more force than necessary. "And the Cuban? Has Suarez given up?"

Your mother's expression darkened. "He sent flowers. Again. With a note your father wouldn't let me read."

That explained the fresh roses on the foyer table that hadn't been there this morning. Raúl Suarez's idea of courtship had a distinctly threatening undertone, like each bouquet carried an implicit "or else."

"So I'm still on the auction block," you said, keeping your voice even. "With Hamilton as the current high bidder."

"It's not—"

"It's exactly like that, Mama. Let's not pretend."

Your mother didn't argue the point. Instead, she reached for your jewelry box, selecting a pair of diamond studs. "Hamilton requested to meet in the city. Your father agreed, but only with security protocols in place."

That was unexpected. Most meetings happened on family territory, where your father controlled every variable. Allowing you to go into Manhattan, even with security, was a significant concession.

"Where in the city?" you asked, suddenly more interested. It had been months since you'd had an excuse to leave the compound in Mill Neck. Your father's insistence that you live at home "for your safety" had become increasingly restrictive over the past year, as tensions with rival families escalated.

"Eleven Madison Park," your mother replied, a hint of approval in her voice. At least Hamilton had good taste. "Antonio will drive you. Marco and Luca will provide security, but they'll maintain distance unless needed."

You nodded, a small thrill running through you despite everything. An evening in Manhattan, away from the estate's watchful eyes and your father's immediate presence, felt like temporary freedom—even if it was just an illusion.

"Is this Hamilton's way of testing boundaries?" you wondered aloud. "Seeing how much control he can take from the start?"

"Or offering you neutral ground," your mother suggested. "A place where neither family has home field advantage."

You hadn't considered that perspective. "Interesting theory."

"Just... keep an open mind," your mother advised, squeezing your shoulders gently. "And remember everything I taught you about reading men."

You smiled at that. While your father had trained you in the visible aspects of the business—the legitimate enterprises, the social connections, the charitable foundation that laundered both money and the family's reputation—your mother had taught you the more subtle arts. How to read microexpressions, how to extract information while appearing to share nothing, how to make men believe your ideas were actually theirs.

"I'll read him like a book," you promised, securing your mother's diamond studs in your ears. "But I doubt he'll be that easy to decipher."

"No," she agreed thoughtfully. "But that might make him more interesting than the others."

The others. As if on cue, your phone buzzed with a text. Lorenzo Bianchi's name flashed on the screen, the fifth message today. You showed it to your mother with a raised eyebrow.

"He's persistent," she acknowledged. "And his family is dangerous when rejected."

"They're all dangerous," you reminded her, deleting the message without reading it. "That's the whole point of this arrangement. Finding the devil whose hell I can live with."

Your mother didn't contradict you, just helped you select a simple gold bracelet to complete your outfit. "Antonio will be ready at six. That should put you at the restaurant by seven, even with city traffic."

An hour in the car each way. Normally that would seem tedious, but tonight you welcomed it. The ride from your family's North Shore estate into Manhattan would give you time to prepare mentally. To strategize. To remember that no matter how intriguing Lewis Hamilton might be, this was still a business transaction at its core.

At precisely six, you descended the grand staircase to find not just Antonio waiting, but your father as well. He stood in the foyer, examining you with a critical eye.

"You look beautiful," he said after a moment, the compliment sounding oddly formal. "Remember who you are tonight. You represent our family."

"I always do, Papa," you replied, accepting his kiss on both cheeks.

"Hamilton is... unconventional," your father continued, walking you to the door. "But he's smart. Connected. His operation in London has expanded into five countries in just eight years. No arrests, no leaks."

You nodded, understanding what your father was really saying. Lewis Hamilton represented new blood, new methods. A way to modernize the Ricci empire without sacrificing its core business.

"The Bianchis have been calling all day," your father added, his expression hardening. "Lorenzo claims he's in love with you. After meeting you once."

You couldn't help the derisive sound that escaped you. "Lorenzo Bianchi wouldn't know love if it stabbed him in the chest. Which, according to what I've heard, is his preferred method of solving problems."

Your father didn't deny it. "Just be careful. These rejected suitors... their pride is wounded."

"I'll have Marco and Luca," you reminded him, though the concern in his voice was touching. For all his faults, your father did love you. He just loved the family business more.

"Yes, well." He adjusted his tie, a nervous gesture you rarely saw. "Hamilton strikes me as capable of handling himself if trouble arises. But still, be cautious."

The idea that your father was entrusting your safety partly to Hamilton was telling. Perhaps his mind was already made up about this match.

"I'll text when I arrive at the restaurant," you promised, stepping outside where the black Escalade waited, engine running.

Antonio, your family's most trusted driver, held the door for you with a respectful nod. At thirty-five, he'd been with the family since before you were born, rising from teenage errand boy to become one of your father's most reliable soldiers. If trouble found you in the city, Antonio was nearly as deadly as Marco and Luca combined.

As the car pulled down the long, tree-lined driveway of the estate, you felt the familiar mix of relief and anxiety that always came with leaving the compound. Your family's ten-acre property in Mill Neck represented both prison and protection—a gilded cage that kept you safe from enemies while simultaneously restricting your freedom.

The gates swung open, revealing a black sedan parked just outside the property. You didn't need to see the occupants to know it was Bianchi's men, maintaining their unwelcome surveillance. They'd been there for three days now, ever since Lorenzo's proposal had been declined.

"Persistent bastards," Antonio muttered, accelerating past them.

You watched in the side mirror as the sedan pulled out to follow at a discreet distance. "They're still tailing us?"

"Don't worry," Antonio assured you, his hand moving briefly inside his jacket where you knew he kept his Glock. "Luca and Marco are right behind them. They won't get close in the city."

You nodded, settling back against the leather seat. This was your normal—being followed, guarded, watched from all sides. Sometimes by people who wanted to protect you, sometimes by those who wanted to use you as leverage against your father. The distinction hardly mattered when the end result was the same: limited freedom.

As the Escalade merged onto the highway, you watched Long Island's affluent suburbs give way to increasingly urban landscapes. The city gradually appeared on the horizon, a collection of glittering towers against the darkening sky. Despite everything, you felt a flutter of excitement. It had been nearly three months since you'd been to Manhattan, your movements increasingly restricted as multiple families vied for alliance through marriage.

"Looking forward to dinner?" Antonio asked, catching your eye in the rearview mirror.

"I'm looking forward to something different," you replied honestly. "Even if it's just another man evaluating me like a prize thoroughbred."

Antonio had the grace to look uncomfortable at your candor. He'd known you since childhood, had taught you to drive (secretly, against your father's wishes) when you were sixteen, had even covered for you once when you'd snuck out to a college party. But the realities of your position in the family were something even loyal Antonio couldn't change.

"This Hamilton," he said carefully. "Word is he's formidable. Not like the others."

"So I've gathered," you replied. "Is that good or bad, in your opinion?"

Antonio considered this as he navigated through increasing traffic. "Good, maybe. A man secure in his power doesn't need to prove it constantly. Might make him a more... reasonable husband."

The word "husband" still sent an uncomfortable jolt through you. This time tomorrow, your father might well have decided to give you to Lewis Hamilton for the rest of your life.

"We'll see," was all you said, turning your attention to the city lights now fully visible ahead.

Your phone buzzed again. This time it wasn't Lorenzo Bianchi but Raúl Suarez. A photo message that you opened against your better judgment.

It was a picture of you. From yesterday. Walking from the house to the garden, completely unaware you were being photographed.

Looking forward to changing your mind, belleza, the accompanying text read. I'm a patient man.

You deleted it immediately, suppressing a shiver. The Cuban's tactics were becoming increasingly concerning. At least Bianchi limited himself to excessive texts and flowers.

"Everything okay?" Antonio asked, noticing your expression.

"Fine," you lied smoothly. "Just another reminder of why I need to choose the least objectionable option."

As the Manhattan skyline enveloped you, traffic slowing to the typical crawl of early evening, you found yourself wondering what kind of man Lewis Hamilton really was beneath the controlled exterior and strategic business proposal. Was he truly different, as everyone kept suggesting? Or just better at disguising the same possessive, controlling nature that seemed endemic to men in your world?

You'd find out soon enough. For now, you were determined to enjoy this rare taste of the city, this brief illusion of freedom before decisions were made that would determine the rest of your life.

And if Lewis Hamilton thought you'd be an easy acquisition, a docile addition to his growing empire, he was about to discover exactly how mistaken he was.

Eleven Madison Park glowed with understated elegance, its Art Deco interior a testament to old New York money and taste. The maître d' greeted you by name before you could even introduce yourself, suggesting that Lewis had ensured they knew exactly who to expect.

"Mr. Hamilton is already seated," the man informed you with a deferential nod. "If you'll follow me."

You felt eyes tracking your movement through the restaurant—the curse of being a Ricci in Manhattan, where your family name was whispered in both boardrooms and back alleys. Marco and Luca had already positioned themselves strategically at the bar, pretending to be just another pair of Wall Street types unwinding after hours, but their eyes constantly scanned for threats.

Lewis rose as you approached the table, set in a discreet corner that offered both privacy and a clear view of all entrances. The tactics of a man who never let his guard down. He wore a perfectly tailored charcoal suit that somehow made his tattoos and piercings look deliberate rather than rebellious, like they were as much a part of his carefully crafted image as the Italian leather of his shoes.

"Ms. Ricci," he greeted you, that British accent wrapping around your name in a way that was irritatingly pleasant to the ear. "Thank you for joining me."

"As if I had a choice," you replied, allowing him to pull out your chair.

Instead of looking offended, a small smile played at the corner of his mouth. "There are always choices. Even when they're all bad ones."

You settled into your seat, noting how he waited until you were comfortable before sitting down himself. "Is that supposed to be comforting?"

"Just honest." He signaled to the sommelier, who appeared instantly at his side. "The Puligny-Montrachet we discussed earlier, please."

You raised an eyebrow. "Ordering for both of us already?"

"Just the wine," he clarified. "Unless you'd prefer something else?"

The challenge in his tone suggested he'd done his homework—probably knew that white Burgundy was your preference, information easily obtained from any of the high-end restaurants your family frequented. You decided not to give him the satisfaction.

"That's fine," you conceded. As the sommelier departed, you added, "Though I'm surprised you didn't choose something British."

A subtle shift crossed his features—not quite a smile, but the suggestion of amusement. "British wine is improving, but I'm not a patriot when it comes to vintages."

"Just when it comes to business?"

"Especially when it comes to business." His dark eyes held yours with unsettling directness. "I value loyalty above all else, Ms. Ricci. To people, not countries."

The sommelier returned with the wine, going through the tasting ritual with Hamilton, who handled it with the practiced ease of someone used to fine dining. Once your glasses were poured and you were alone again, you decided to cut through the preliminary niceties.

"So why exactly are we here, Mr. Hamilton? My father could have made his decision without this... interview."

"Interview?" He seemed genuinely amused now. "Is that what you think this is?"

"Isn't it? You're evaluating whether I'll be suitable for whatever role you've envisioned in this merger of empires." You took a deliberate sip of wine, noting that it was, annoyingly, excellent. "Or did you just want to see the merchandise up close before finalizing the purchase?"

Something flickered in his expression—a brief hardening of his features that vanished so quickly you might have imagined it, replaced by that same controlled composure. But in that fleeting moment, you glimpsed what might happen to anyone who truly crossed Lewis Hamilton. It wasn't hot rage like the Sicilians or cruel pleasure like the Cuban—just cold, efficient finality.

"If I viewed this as a purchase, Ms. Ricci, I wouldn't have bothered with dinner," he replied evenly. "Business transactions can be handled over the phone."

"Then what is this?"

"A conversation between two adults who might be spending quite a bit of time together in the future," he said simply. "I find it's useful to know who you're dealing with before making commitments."

The waiter appeared, saving you from having to respond immediately. You both ordered—you, the sea bass; him, the duck—and when you were alone again, you decided to press further.

"Why me? Why the Ricci family? Your operation seems entirely self-sufficient."

Hamilton considered his answer, turning his wine glass slowly between tattooed fingers. "Expansion requires allies. Your father has established routes and connections I could use. I have technological innovations and legitimate business fronts he needs. It's symbiotic."

"And I'm the connective tissue in this symbiotic relationship," you finished for him. "How flattering."

"You're underestimating your importance," he countered. "Your father doesn't need a son-in-law. He needs a successor he can trust. There's a difference."

The distinction was meaningful, suggesting he'd actually thought about this beyond mere territorial acquisition. Still, you weren't convinced.

"And what exactly do you get out of it?" you pressed. "Besides the business advantages, which you could negotiate without marriage. Why tie yourself to a woman fourteen years younger? I'm sure there are plenty of eligible women in London closer to your age who'd be more... compatible."

A smile tugged at the corners of his lips, unexpected and transformative. It didn't soften him, exactly, but it added a dimension you hadn't anticipated.

"Perhaps I appreciate the view beyond the business benefits," he said, his eyes making a deliberate, assessing sweep that should have felt offensive but somehow didn't. It wasn't leering, just honest appreciation.

Before you could respond, he added, "Age is largely irrelevant. I've met twenty-year-olds with the cunning of veteran strategists and sixty-year-olds with the wisdom of children. You're not some naive girl, Ms. Ricci, regardless of your birth year."

"Is that supposed to be a compliment?"

"It's supposed to be an answer. I'm not interested in this arrangement because of your age, but despite it. Your father has kept you involved in enough of the business that you understand the world we operate in. You're educated, strategic, and from what I can tell, not easily intimidated." His eyes locked with yours. "All useful qualities in a partner."

The word "partner" caught you off guard. Not "wife" or "possession" but "partner"—suggesting if not equality, then at least value beyond decoration or bloodline.

"Most men in your position want docile trophy wives," you noted, watching his reaction carefully. "Not partners."

"Most men in my position are fools," he replied without hesitation. "Wasting half the intelligence available to them out of archaic notions of gender. I don't have that luxury."

Your first course arrived, temporarily pausing the conversation. You used the moment to study him more carefully. His movements were precise, economical. Nothing wasted. The tattoos on his hands were intricate geometric patterns, almost mathematical in their precision. His braids were immaculate, suggesting attention to detail that extended to every aspect of his presentation.

"Your security detail is quite good," he commented casually, gesturing subtly toward Marco and Luca at the bar. "Though they might want to vary their positioning. Too predictable."

This surprised you. Most people never noticed your family's security arrangements. "You have men here too?"

His smile was brief but genuine. "What makes you think I need men?"

Something about the way he said it sent a chill down your spine. The rumors about Hamilton handling his own enforcement suddenly seemed very plausible. His athletic build wasn't just for show, and those hands with their beautiful, precise tattoos had probably ended lives with the same efficiency they now used to cut into perfectly prepared duck.

"I heard you dealt with problems personally in your early days," you said, testing the waters. "Is that still your preference?"

He regarded you steadily. "I find that delegation is necessary for growth, but direct intervention is occasionally... clarifying for those who might misunderstand my intentions."

It was the most diplomatic description of enforcement you'd ever heard, but no less chilling for its restraint.

"Like the situation with the Brennan family in Dublin?" you asked, dropping the reference deliberately.

His expression didn't change, but something shifted in his eyes—surprise, perhaps, that you knew about an operation that had been kept remarkably quiet. Three years ago, a Dublin crime family had tried to hijack one of Hamilton's weapons shipments. All five men involved had disappeared without a trace. No bodies, no witnesses, just gone—along with the family's patriarch a week later.

"You've done your homework, Ms. Ricci," he acknowledged, neither confirming nor denying.

"As have you, apparently," you countered. "The wine choice, the restaurant reservation under my name rather than yours, the awareness of my security. You've been watching me."

"Prudent research before a significant investment," he replied smoothly. "As I'm sure you've done as well."

The main course arrived, giving you a moment to recalibrate. Hamilton was harder to read than you'd expected. The calculated control you'd sensed at yesterday's meeting extended to every aspect of his behavior, yet didn't feel like the facade that so many men in your world maintained. This was simply who he was—disciplined, precise, lethal when necessary but not gratuitously cruel.

"May I ask you something direct, Mr. Hamilton?" you said after a few bites of excellent sea bass.

"Please do."

"If we were to move forward with this arrangement, what exactly would you expect from me? As your... partner."

He set down his fork, giving the question his full attention. "Loyalty, above all. Discretion. Intelligence applied to our mutual benefit." His gaze was unwavering. "I don't require you to love me, Ms. Ricci, but I do expect your allegiance to be absolute. No divided loyalties between my interests and your father's once we're married."

The bluntness was almost refreshing after the veiled language of most business discussions in your world.

"And what would I get in return?" you challenged. "Besides the obvious financial security that I already have."

"Protection. Freedom to pursue your own interests within reason. Respect." He took a careful sip of wine. "And a certain degree of autonomy that I suspect you haven't been permitted under your father's roof."

He'd identified perhaps the one thing that might actually tempt you—the promise of freedom, even if limited. The ability to move through the world without constant supervision, to make decisions without your father's approval.

"That's quite an offer," you said carefully. "But words are easy. How do I know you'd follow through?"

"You don't," he admitted. "Just as I don't know for certain that you wouldn't betray my trust at the first opportunity. Marriage is a risk, Ms. Ricci, even when it's a business arrangement."

You considered this, appreciating his honesty if nothing else. "And if I said no? Hypothetically."

"Then I'd finish this excellent meal, thank you for your time, and pursue a different approach to expansion." His tone was matter-of-fact. "Your father would likely move on to the next suitable candidate for your hand, and our paths might not cross again."

The complete lack of threat was notable, especially compared to how the Sicilian and Cuban had responded to the mere suggestion of rejection. Either Hamilton was supremely confident that the deal would proceed regardless of your opinion, or he genuinely wouldn't force the issue.

"I find that hard to believe," you said. "Men like you don't simply walk away from strategic advantages."

"Men like me?" His eyebrow raised slightly. "You seem to have placed me in a category, Ms. Ricci. I'm curious which one."

"Dangerous men who build empires and eliminate obstacles," you replied without hesitation. "Men who don't take no for an answer."

That small smile returned, transforming his severe features momentarily. "I always accept 'no' in personal matters. It's more efficient than the alternative." He leaned forward slightly. "But in this case, I don't think you want to say no. I think you're considering whether being tied to me would be better or worse than your current circumstances."

The accuracy of his assessment was unsettling. He read people too well—a dangerous quality when combined with everything else you knew about him.

"And what's your assessment?" you asked, meeting his gaze directly.

"I think you're calculating whether I'd be a prison or a pathway. Whether trading your father's control for a husband's would improve your situation or merely change the scenery of your confinement." He said this without judgment, simply stating what he observed. "It's the logical analysis, given your position."

Before you could respond, a commotion near the entrance caught your attention. Marco had shifted position, his hand moving subtly toward his concealed weapon. A group of men had entered—three Italians in expensive suits who were definitely not there for the cuisine.

Hamilton noticed your attention shift and glanced casually over his shoulder. "Friends of yours?"

"Bianchi's men," you replied quietly. "The rejected Sicilian. Apparently he's not taking no for an answer."

Instead of looking concerned, Hamilton merely nodded, returning to his meal with infuriating calm. "They won't approach while you're with me."

"You seem very confident about that," you observed, noting that Marco and Luca were now on high alert, communicating silently across the room.

"They've already seen me," Hamilton replied, cutting into his duck with precise movements. "They know who I am and what would happen if they created a scene."

You studied him with new interest. "And what exactly would happen, Mr. Hamilton?"

He met your eyes, and in that moment, you saw it again—that flash of cold finality that suggested absolute certainty in his ability to handle any threat. "They'd regret it deeply in whatever time they had left."

The matter-of-fact way he said it, without bravado or theatrics, made it all the more chilling. This wasn't a man who made threats; this was someone stating simple causality. Action and consequence.

True enough, Bianchi's men maintained their distance, settling at the bar where they could watch but not interfere. Your security team adjusted accordingly, creating a careful balance of power across the restaurant floor.

"Tell me something, Ms. Ricci," Hamilton said, smoothly changing the subject as if the potential threat were inconsequential. "If you weren't bound by family obligation, what would you do with your life?"

The question caught you off guard—no one had asked you that in years, perhaps ever. "I—" you hesitated, unused to such direct inquiry about your own desires rather than your family's needs.

"That's not a fair question," you finally said. "I've never had the luxury of that kind of thinking."

"Humor me," he pressed, those dark eyes fixed on yours with unexpected intensity. "If you could choose any path, what would it be?"

You considered deflecting again, then decided against it. This man might own half your life soon; he might as well know what he was buying.

"I'd want to build something of my own," you admitted. "Not separate from the family business necessarily, but something that was mine to shape. I have ideas about expansion into tech and legitimate finance that my father considers too risky."

Hamilton nodded, looking genuinely interested. "Forward-thinking. Your father mentioned you studied finance at Columbia?"

"And computer science," you added. "Though he prefers to emphasize my language skills and social graces when presenting me to potential husbands."

A brief smile touched his lips again. "The criminal world is changing. Technology and finance are the future. Your father knows it, whether he admits it or not. It's why he's considering me despite—" he gestured to his appearance, "my departure from traditional values."

The rest of dinner passed with surprising ease. Hamilton asked about your ideas for modernizing operations, listening with what seemed like genuine interest rather than performative attention. You found yourself speaking more freely than you had in months, outlining concepts for digital money laundering and secure communication networks that you'd never dared share with your father.

As dessert arrived, you realized with some surprise that you'd almost forgotten this was essentially a business meeting disguised as a date. Hamilton was unexpectedly easy to talk to when he chose to be, his questions precise and thoughtful, pushing you to expand on your ideas rather than simply agreeing.

"You're not what I expected," you admitted as you finished your chocolate soufflé.

"Is that good or bad?" he asked, watching you with those calculating eyes.

"I haven't decided yet," you replied honestly. "But it's... interesting."

He nodded, accepting this assessment without pressing for more. As he signaled for the check, you noticed Bianchi's men were still at the bar, watching with poorly disguised resentment.

"They'll follow us out," you said quietly.

"Probably," Hamilton agreed, signing the check without even glancing at the total. "Though they won't get close."

"Because of Marco and Luca?"

"Among other reasons." His tone suggested something you couldn't quite identify.

As you both stood to leave, Hamilton offered his arm in a surprisingly old-fashioned gesture. You took it, aware of the statement it made to the watching eyes. Bianchi's men would report back that you seemed comfortable with Hamilton, that there was a connection forming. Whether true or not, perception mattered in your world.

"I'll walk you to your car," Hamilton said as you exited the restaurant into the cool evening air.

"That's not necessary. I have security."

"I'm aware." Something in his tone made you look up at him. "But I'd like to anyway."

Against your better judgment, you nodded. As you walked the short distance to where Antonio waited with the Escalade, you felt Bianchi's men emerge from the restaurant behind you. Marco and Luca immediately moved to intercept, creating a buffer between you and the potential threat.

Hamilton continued walking as if completely unconcerned, his hand coming to rest lightly on the small of your back—proprietary but not controlling. The gesture shouldn't have felt as reassuring as it did.

When you reached the car, Antonio opened the door, his face carefully neutral despite the unusual situation. Before you stepped in, Hamilton turned to face you.

"Thank you for dinner, Ms. Ricci," he said formally, mindful of the watching eyes from multiple directions. "I look forward to continuing our conversation."

"As do I, Mr. Hamilton," you replied with equal formality.

He took your hand, and instead of the handshake you expected, raised it to his lips in the briefest, most controlled kiss. The gesture was calculated, you knew—a clear signal to Bianchi's watching men about his intentions. Yet something about the fleeting pressure of his lips against your knuckles sent an unwelcome shiver up your arm.

"I'll be speaking with your father tomorrow," he said, his voice low enough that only you could hear. "If you have any objections to moving forward, now would be the time to voice them."

The question surprised you—again, he was offering a choice where none was expected. You studied his face, trying to discern his true intentions behind the controlled exterior.

"No objections," you heard yourself say. "Yet."

That subtle smile appeared again, transforming his severe features for just a moment. "Prudent. Never commit without leaving yourself an exit strategy."

With that, he stepped back, allowing you to enter the car. As Antonio closed the door, you watched through the window as Hamilton turned to face the direction where Bianchi's men stood. He didn't approach them or make any obvious threat, just stood perfectly still, watching them with the focused intensity of a predator assessing prey.

Even from inside the car, you could see the Sicilians' discomfort grow under that unwavering gaze until they finally retreated to their own vehicle.

"Home, Miss?" Antonio asked, interrupting your observation.

"Yes," you replied, your mind already racing ahead. "Home for now."

As the Escalade pulled away from the curb, you found yourself wondering if Lewis Hamilton represented a different kind of cage or the key to one you'd been in your entire life. Either way, you suspected your father's decision was already made—and for once, you weren't entirely opposed to the arrangement.

Dangerous men were common in your world. But dangerous men who saw you as more than decoration or a means to an end? Those were rare enough to warrant further investigation.

Tomorrow would determine whether you'd found a partner or simply a more sophisticated jailer than the others who had sought your hand.

*******************************************

Your father summoned you to his study the following afternoon. You'd barely slept, your mind replaying every moment of the dinner with Hamilton, analyzing his words, his carefully controlled expressions, the brief moments when something genuine seemed to break through his disciplined exterior.

When you entered the study, your father wasn't alone. Uncle Paolo sat in his usual chair by the window, while your mother stood behind your father's desk—her presence unusual for these kinds of meetings. Whatever decision had been reached, it was significant enough to warrant the family's core leadership.

"Sit," your father said without preamble.

You took the chair across from his desk, smoothing your skirt with practiced composure. The heavy silence told you everything before a word was spoken.

"Hamilton has made a formal offer," your father finally said, gesturing to a folder on his desk. "The terms are... substantial."

"I'm sure they are," you replied evenly. "Since I'm such a valuable asset."

Your father's eyes narrowed slightly. "This isn't the time for attitude. This is business."

"It's my life, Papa."

"It's both," your mother interjected softly. "Which is why we want to know your thoughts before proceeding."

This was unexpected. Your father rarely solicited your opinion on family matters, let alone ones that involved strategic alliances.

"My thoughts?" you echoed, careful to keep the surprise from your voice.

Your father leaned forward. "Hamilton specifically requested your consent be part of the agreement. Said he has no interest in an unwilling partner." A flicker of annoyance crossed his features. "Very modern of him."

That explained it. Your opinion wasn't being sought out of respect for your autonomy but because Hamilton had made it a condition. Interesting that he'd actually followed through on the choice he'd offered you last night.

"So if I said no, this deal wouldn't proceed?" You tested the boundaries of this supposed freedom.

Uncle Paolo scoffed. "Let's not be dramatic. The alliance has significant benefits for both families. Hamilton is simply being... diplomatic."

Translation: Your consent was expected regardless of how it was framed.

"What exactly are the terms?" you asked, redirecting to practical matters.

Your father pushed the folder toward you. "Marriage within the month. You would relocate to London initially, though Hamilton maintains properties in several countries. Your trust fund remains independently yours, with additional provisions from both families."

You opened the folder, scanning the documents inside. Legal language camouflaged what was essentially the transfer of partial ownership of you from one man to another, albeit with surprisingly favorable conditions. Hamilton had negotiated for your financial independence and included provisions for your continued education if desired—details most traditional suitors wouldn't have bothered with.

"And the business arrangements?" you asked, knowing that was the true heart of the agreement.

"Access to his distribution networks in Europe. Technology integration for our financial operations. Weapons procurement without the usual middlemen." Your father couldn't hide the satisfaction in his voice. "In exchange for our established routes in North America and our political connections."

"Hamilton also has legitimate businesses that could help launder our more... problematic income streams," Uncle Paolo added. "Very sophisticated setups. Even the feds haven't been able to crack them."

You continued reading, noting the careful delineation of territories and responsibilities. Unlike most alliance agreements you'd seen, this one didn't simply absorb one organization into the other. It created distinct spheres of influence with clear boundaries.

"And the Bianchis? The Suarez family? How are they taking this?" you asked, thinking of the men who had watched you at the restaurant last night.

Your father's expression darkened. "Not well. Lorenzo Bianchi has been particularly vocal about his... disappointment."

"That's why we need to move quickly," Uncle Paolo interjected. "The longer this drags out, the more opportunity for interference."

"Interference," you repeated. "You mean attempts to kill Hamilton? Or me? Or both?"

"Don't be dramatic," your father snapped, but the tightness around his eyes confirmed your suspicions. "Appropriate security measures will be in place."

"Including Hamilton's own people," your mother added. "He's sent two advance team members who arrived this morning."

That explained the unfamiliar faces you'd glimpsed patrolling the grounds. Hamilton was already moving pieces into position, securing his investment.

"So it's decided then," you said, closing the folder. "I'm to be Mrs. Hamilton by the end of the month."

"Not if you truly object," your mother said, earning a sharp glance from your father. "Lewis was quite clear about that condition."

You studied your mother's face, wondering if she actually believed you had a choice or was simply playing her role in this carefully choreographed negotiation. Either way, the question remained: did you want to object?

Hamilton was dangerous, certainly. But so were all the men in your world, including your father. At least Hamilton seemed to value your mind alongside your family connections. And despite the age gap, he was undeniably intriguing in ways that Lorenzo Bianchi and Raúl Suarez could never be.

"I don't object," you finally said. "But I'd like to speak with Hamilton again before anything is finalized. Alone."

Your father's eyebrows rose. "That's not traditional."

"Neither is he," you countered. "If I'm going to bind my life to his, I want to be clear about certain... expectations."

Uncle Paolo looked scandalized, but your mother nodded slightly, understanding passing between you. Every marriage in your world involved unspoken rules and boundaries. Better to establish them early than discover incompatibilities too late.

"Fine," your father conceded. "He's coming here tonight to discuss final arrangements. You can have thirty minutes with him beforehand."

"An hour," you negotiated automatically. "And in the garden, not the house."

A flash of irritation crossed your father's face, but to your surprise, he nodded. "You're already taking after him. Negotiating everything."

You accepted this as the backhanded compliment it was intended to be. "What time?"

"Eight o'clock. Don't be late." Your father turned his attention to other papers on his desk, a clear dismissal.

As you rose to leave, your mother followed you out, closing the study door behind her.

"A word," she said quietly, guiding you toward her private sitting room where conversations couldn't be overheard.

Once inside with the door secured, she turned to you with an expression more candid than she usually allowed herself.

"You should know that your father has additional expectations from this union that aren't in the formal agreement," she said without preamble.

"Let me guess. Grandchildren." It wasn't a question.

Your mother nodded. "Within the first two years of marriage. He sees Hamilton's bloodline as... advantageous for the family's future."

You couldn't help the bitter laugh that escaped you. "Of course. Not only am I being traded like a thoroughbred, I'm expected to breed like one too."

"That's the reality of our world," your mother said, not unkindly. "I just wanted you to be prepared when the subject arises."

"Is that what happened with you and Papa? Was a baby part of the merger agreement?"

Your mother's expression softened slightly. "Yes. Though in our case, we were fortunate enough to develop genuine feelings before you were born." She touched your cheek gently. "I hope the same for you, whatever you may think of the arrangement now."

You leaned into her touch briefly before pulling away. "Did Hamilton agree to this... breeding schedule?"

"It wasn't presented to him directly. Your father considers it a family matter, not a negotiation point."

"How convenient," you muttered. "Anything else I should know before I'm shipped off to London?"

Your mother hesitated, then said, "Hamilton has a reputation for certain... tastes. Nothing concerning," she added quickly, seeing your expression. "Just... particular."

"What kind of particular?" You weren't naive about what happened in bedrooms, but your experience was admittedly limited—a college boyfriend your father had eventually scared away, and a brief affair with an Italian businessman that had fizzled when you realized he was more interested in your family connections than you.

"Controlled. Dominant." Your mother chose her words carefully. "But not cruel, from what I understand. Unlike some in our circle." The unspoken reference to men like Raúl Suarez hung in the air.

"Wonderful," you said dryly. "I'm to be the obedient wife in the boardroom and the bedroom."

"Not necessarily." Your mother's tone suggested she knew more than she was saying. "Just... be prepared to discuss boundaries clearly. Men like Hamilton respect directness more than they let on."

The conversation left you with more questions than answers, but at least you were forewarned. As you headed back to your room to prepare for the evening's meeting, your mind raced with everything you wanted to establish before signing your life away.

********************************************

The garden at dusk held a particular magic, the fading light softening the carefully manicured grounds of the estate. You'd chosen this setting deliberately—outside the confines of the house, away from listening ears and watchful eyes, but still within the secure perimeter of the property.

You wore a simple wrap dress, casual enough to suggest this wasn't a formal negotiation but elegant enough to maintain the upper hand. Your hair hung loose around your shoulders, a small rebellion against your father's preference for the sleek, controlled styles he considered appropriate for business meetings.

At precisely eight o'clock, you heard footsteps on the stone path. Lewis Hamilton moved with that same contained grace you'd noticed at dinner, his attention seemingly casual but missing nothing as he scanned the garden. He wore dark jeans and a black button-down with the sleeves rolled to reveal more of the intricate tattoos on his forearms. Less formal than yesterday, but no less commanding.

"Ms. Ricci," he greeted you, those dark eyes taking in your appearance with that same assessing gaze. "Thank you for agreeing to meet."

"I'm the one who requested it," you reminded him, gesturing to the bench beside the rose trellis. "Please, sit."

He complied, maintaining a respectful distance as you settled beside him. The evening air carried the scent of late summer blooms and the faint spice of his cologne.

"I understand congratulations are in order," he said, those eyes never leaving your face. "Your father has accepted my proposal."

"With the condition of my consent," you noted. "Which was an interesting stipulation to include."

A ghost of a smile touched his lips. "I don't believe in forced partnerships. They tend to... malfunction at critical moments."

"How pragmatic of you."

"I'm a pragmatic man." He leaned back slightly, one arm extending along the back of the bench though he didn't touch you. "I assume you have questions or concerns you wanted to address privately."

"Several," you confirmed. "Starting with what happens after the wedding. You mentioned London?"

He nodded. "Initially. I maintain a residence there, another in Amsterdam, properties in several other locations. I thought we might begin in London while you acclimate to the arrangement, then discuss preferences."

"And my involvement in the business?"

Something like approval flickered across his features. "That depends on your interests and aptitudes. From our dinner conversation, I gather you have significant insights into modernization opportunities. I'd welcome your input in those areas, to start."

"To start," you repeated. "With the possibility of expansion."

"Precisely." He studied you for a moment. "You seem surprised."

"Most men in your position view wives as decorative accessories, not business partners."

"Most men in my position are shortsighted," he replied simply. "I prefer to utilize all available resources effectively."

"Is that what I am? A resource?" You kept your tone neutral despite the provocation.

That slight smile appeared again. "We all are, in different contexts. The question is whether we're valued appropriately for what we bring to the table."

It was a fair point, if somewhat coldly phrased. "And what exactly do you think I bring to the table, Mr. Hamilton?"

"Intelligence. Strategic thinking. Social connections my organization currently lacks in certain circles. Perspective from a different generation." His assessment was calm, matter-of-fact. "And of course, the Ricci family alliance, which opens doors that would otherwise remain closed to me."

"That's quite a list." You weren't sure whether to be flattered or offended by his inventory of your attributes. "And what about the personal aspects of this arrangement? I assume you've considered those as well."

"Of course." If your directness surprised him, he didn't show it. "Marriage typically involves certain... intimacies."

"Is that what we're calling it?" you asked dryly. "Intimacies?"

For the first time, a genuine smile broke through his controlled expression. "What would you prefer to call it? Fucking? Sleeping together? Making heirs for our respective families?"

The crude language from his cultured British accent was jarring, but not unwelcome. At least he wasn't treating you like some delicate flower who'd wilt at plain speaking.

"All of the above, apparently," you replied, matching his bluntness. "My father expects grandchildren within two years, though he didn't include that in the formal agreement."

Hamilton's eyebrow rose slightly. "Interesting that he'd leave such an important detail out of the negotiations."

"He considers it a family matter, not a business point."

"When in fact it's both," Hamilton observed. His gaze turned more assessing. "And how do you feel about this... breeding arrangement?"

The crass term made you wince, though it accurately described your father's approach. "I haven't decided. Children weren't in my immediate plans, but I always assumed they'd be part of my future eventually."

"Regardless of your father's timeline, that particular aspect would be between us," Hamilton said firmly. "Not subject to external schedules."

The clear boundary he established around your shared decisions versus family expectations was unexpectedly reassuring. "And the... physical aspects of marriage in general? What are your expectations there?"

Hamilton considered you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. "I expect mutual respect and clear communication about boundaries and preferences. I don't believe in coercion of any kind, but I do value honesty."

"That's very diplomatic," you noted. "But not very specific."

"Would you prefer specifics?" he asked, that dangerous edge suddenly more apparent beneath his controlled exterior. "I can be quite direct, Ms. Ricci, but most find it... uncomfortable."

"I'm not most people," you countered. "And if we're to be married, I think I deserve to know what I'm agreeing to."

A brief nod acknowledged your point. "Very well. I enjoy control—giving it completely in business settings tends to make one appreciate having it in private ones. I prefer partners who understand the value of clearly defined roles and boundaries." His gaze was unwavering. "I don't believe in ownership or subjugation, but I do expect a certain level of... deference in intimate settings."

The frankness of his assessment sent an unexpected heat through you that you hoped wasn't visible in the fading light. "And if that arrangement doesn't appeal to me?"

"Then we negotiate alternatives," he replied simply. "As I said, coercion has no place in my world. But I've found that compatibility in these matters tends to reveal itself naturally, given time and trust."

The conversation should have been mortifying—discussing sexual dynamics with a virtual stranger who might soon be your husband. Instead, you found his directness refreshing after a lifetime of veiled implications and unspoken expectations.

"Any other concerns you wish to address?" he asked, seeming entirely comfortable with the turn the conversation had taken.

"Freedom of movement," you said, returning to practical matters. "My father keeps me under constant surveillance for 'protection.' Would I be exchanging one form of confinement for another?"

"Security is necessary in our world," Hamilton acknowledged. "But I don't believe in cages, golden or otherwise. With appropriate measures in place, you would be free to pursue your own interests, travel within reason, maintain your own social connections."

"Within reason," you repeated. "And who defines what's reasonable?"

"We would—together. Based on security assessments and legitimate risk factors, not arbitrary restrictions." His tone suggested this was non-negotiable. "I won't apologize for prioritizing your safety, but I have no interest in controlling your every movement."

It was a fair compromise, better than you'd expected and certainly better than your current situation. "And fidelity? What are your expectations there?"

"Absolute," he replied without hesitation. "On both sides. Anything else introduces unnecessary vulnerabilities and complications."

"At least we agree on something," you said, surprising yourself with the admission. Infidelity was common in your world—your father had kept mistresses over the years despite his genuine love for your mother—but you'd always found it distasteful and dangerous.

"We'll likely agree on more than you expect," Hamilton said, his voice softening slightly. "This arrangement may be unconventional in its origins, but that doesn't mean it can't evolve into something mutually beneficial on multiple levels."

The diplomatic phrasing couldn't quite disguise what sounded dangerously close to optimism about your potential relationship. You weren't sure what to make of that.

"One last question," you said, aware that your allotted time was nearly up. "Why me, really? Beyond the business advantages and family connections. You could have pursued alliances with a dozen other families, many with more extensive operations than ours. Why choose the Ricci family? Why choose me?"

Hamilton was quiet for a moment, considering his answer carefully. When he spoke, his voice held a different quality than before—less measured, more genuine.

"Your family's operation is smaller than some, yes, but more adaptable. Old enough to have established roots but not so entrenched that evolution is impossible." His eyes held yours steadily. "As for you specifically... I make decisions based on careful assessment of potential and compatibility. You possess qualities I consider valuable—intelligence, adaptability, strategic thinking, resilience."

"You gleaned all that from one dinner and a brief meeting at my father's house?" Your skepticism was evident.

"I've been researching your family for months," he admitted without apology. "You specifically for weeks. The dinner merely confirmed what my investigation suggested."

The revelation shouldn't have surprised you, yet somehow it did. "That's... thorough."

"I don't leave important decisions to chance or superficial impressions." His gaze was unwavering. "Marriage is a significant commitment, even when it's primarily strategic."

Before you could respond, the garden lights activated automatically with the deepening dusk, illuminating the space around you. In the sudden brightness, you could see Hamilton more clearly—the precise lines of his face, the intensity of his gaze, the subtle pattern of the tattoo visible at his collar.

"Our time is nearly up," he observed. "Your father will be expecting me in the study."

"Yes," you agreed, oddly reluctant to end the conversation. "I suppose he will."

Hamilton rose, offering his hand to help you up. You took it, noting the controlled strength in his grip, the warmth of his palm against yours. He held on a moment longer than necessary, his eyes searching yours.

"Have I addressed your concerns adequately, Ms. Ricci?" he asked, his voice pitched low enough that only you could hear it. "Or do you have objections to proceeding?"

The question echoed the one from last night—again offering you a choice, or at least the illusion of one. You considered your options realistically. Refusing would create chaos in the family, potentially trigger violence from rejected suitors, and leave you back where you started—under your father's thumb, awaiting the next strategic match.

Accepting meant embarking on a life with a dangerous, controlled man who nonetheless seemed to see you as more than a decorative accessory or breeding stock. A man who, despite the age gap and cultural differences, offered something resembling partnership rather than ownership.

"No objections," you said finally. "Though I reserve the right to revisit these discussions as needed."

Something like satisfaction crossed his features. "I would expect nothing less." He released your hand slowly. "Shall we join your father?"

As you walked together toward the house, you were acutely aware of the weight of the decision you'd just made. Within weeks, you would be bound to this man—leaving behind the familiar constraints of your father's house for the unknown territory of marriage to Lewis Hamilton.

Whether that represented freedom or simply a different form of captivity remained to be seen. But for the first time in years, you felt something dangerously close to hope about your future.

"One last thing," Hamilton said as you reached the terrace doors. "Once we're married, I'd prefer you call me Lewis. 'Mr. Hamilton' seems excessively formal for a wife, don't you think?"

The request was so unexpectedly ordinary after the intensity of your conversation that you couldn't help a small, genuine smile. "I'll consider it... Lewis."

His name felt strange on your tongue, intimate in a way that caught you off guard. The slight widening of his eyes suggested he felt it too—this small shift from formal negotiation toward something more personal.

Without another word, he opened the door for you, and together you stepped back into the house to finalize the arrangement that would bind your lives together—for better or worse.

…….tbd

[formulakracing]

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･masterlist ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

hello everyone! •ᴗ•

below is my masterlist related to all things f1! as i continue to write, i will continue to add to the list.

the list will be divided by team, then separated individually by driver. any content that is mature will have a moon symbol that looks like this ☾ next to it.

happy reading! <3

✧˖ max verstappen¹˖✧

"keep 'em comin" -> best friend!reader x max

nothing else matters -> female!reader x max

"my hero" -> social worker!reader x max

"you taste sweeter" -> social worker!reader x max

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・・。. ゜❃

✧˖ daniel ricciardo³˖✧

just how things come together, they fall apart -> fem!driver!reader x danny

night changes -> wife!reader x danny

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・・。. ゜❃

✧�� sebastian vettel⁵˖✧

"you belong here" -> gf reader! x aston martin!seb

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・・。. ゜❃

✧˖ kimi räikkönen⁷˖✧

"well that's too bad" -> dcc!reader x kimi

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・・。. ゜❃

✧˖ sergio "checo" pérez¹¹˖✧

cat & mouse -> fem!driver reader x checo ☾

seeking comfort -> reader x checo

release -> female!reader x checo

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・・。. ゜❃

✧˖ fernando alonso¹⁴˖✧

celebratory drinks -> reporter!reader x aston martin!nando

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・・。. ゜❃

✧˖ lewis hamilton⁴⁴˖✧

too fast -> assistant!reader x lewis

celebrity -> gf!reader x lewis

✧˖ oscar piastri⁸¹˖✧

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・・。. ゜❃

✧˖ toto wolff ˖✧

alkaline -> fem!driver reader x toto ☾

i. | ii. | iii. | iv. | v. | vi. | vii. | viii. | ix. | x. | xi. | xii. | xiii. | xiv. | xv. | xvi. | xvii. | xviii. | xix. | xx.

fanboy behavior

lover girl -> smau

a day in the life -> smau

the little moments -> smau

"the best weekend of my life" -> smau

golden girl & her star boys -> gg x the grid

the (not so subtle) art of a crush

setting it straight

"my favorite driver!"

"you better"

headlock -> g.g. + g.r.

i. |

"girls like u" -> female driver!reader x toto x max verstappen

i. | ii. | iii.

"just one dance" -> horner's daughter!reader x toto

night swim -> nanny!reader x toto ☾

el tango de roxanne -> figure skater!reader x toto

"tending to my love" -> gf!reader x toto

america's princess -> popstar!reader x toto

time off -> reader x sick!toto

sunbathing -> female!reader x dbf!toto ☾

jealousy, jealousy -> female!reader x dbf!toto

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・・。. ゜❃

the grid

words of endearment

[jedi-luca]

Avenger Lane: Chapter 18: Hands Down

Summary: You and your wife Quinn move your family outside of New York City to Avenger Lane; a small private suburbia. There you face your toughest obstacle of your marriage. Will your marriage with Quinn be strong enough when a certain redheaded beauty captures your attention? 

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x GN!Reader

Warnings: Smut and, Reader has a Penis

Previous Chapter

“It’s going to go great my love.” You say squeezing Natasha’s hand as you wait for your bags.

“I’m just nervous and also the morning sickness.” She mutters, touching her belly as she watches Yelena walking Ollie to a nearby tree.

“They’re going to be so fucking happy. I promise you my parents will welcome you both with open arms.” You smile lovingly.

You lead everyone outside when you see your dad waving to you with the biggest smile on his face.

“Y/N!” He shouted as you hugged him tightly.

“It’s good to see ya Dad.” You smiled.

“Popo!!!!!!!” Finley squealed, getting out of Yelena's hold.

“Oh, babycakes!”

“Hi, Grandpa!” Beth smiled, hugging him with Finley.

“Oh, my beautiful granddaughters. Your grandma is going to cry over how much you both have grown over these last few months.” Your dad chuckled.

“Dad, you remember Natasha.” You say gesturing to your fiancé.

“Oh of course I do! Come here, Nat!” Your dad chuckles, hugging Natasha.

“It’s great to see you again Frankie thank you for picking us up.” Natasha smiles.

“Oh no worries at all, and who is this lovely young lady?”

“This is my sister Yelena.”

“It’s so nice to meet you, sir.” Yelena smiles.

“Oh wow, you have a lovely accent.”

“Thank you.” Yelena chuckled.

“I’ve got the bags in the trunk pop.” You grin.

“Well then let’s get you home to Mom.” He grinned.

Natasha sits in the back with the girls. Ollie is in the very back laying his head on Yelena’s shoulder. You chuckled while taking the front seat.

You were going through an old town called Hamilton.

“Natalia… this is it.” Yelena whispered in awe, taking her sister's hand.

“You ladies know this town?” Your dad asks looking through the rearview mirror.

“We… grew up here,” Natasha replies

“Well, sort of.” Yelena’s tone is sad as she recalls memories of going to get ice cream from the creamery they’re passing.

“No way you were so close to us.” Frankie laughs in disbelief. “If only your paths crossed earlier.” Your father smiles at the redhead. “Did you know?” He asks you.

“I did, yes.” You nod.

“Do your parents live out here? I can stop if you’d like.” Frankie smiles.

“Uh no that’s okay they’re in Russia.”

“Oh.” Your dad furrows his brows but doesn’t push again.

“When we were younger. I came home to find my family gone.” Natasha whispered.

“We were deported.” Yelena added, squeezing her sister's hand.

“I’m so sorry that happened to you guys. It’s frustrating that we never got to cross paths earlier.” He sighs sadly. “We would have taken you in, Natasha. I hate knowing you were by yourself.”

“My best friend's parents were also deported so it was just us for a long time, but don’t feel that way. Y/N is helping us get them back Into the States.”

Your dad looked over at you in surprise.

You shrugged.

Your dad reached over squeezing your hand.

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“GG!” Finley squealed, running to your mom who lifted her up and hugged her tightly. “Oh sweetheart you’ve grown a bit since I last saw you please stop.”

“Hi GG.” Beth smiled.

Your mom set Fin down to hug your daughter as tight as she could. “Oh Beth you’re sprouting too! Oh honey, you're so beautiful. Just like your mom.” She smiled rubbing her cheeks.

“Thanks GG.” Beth blushed; she was always told how she looks just like her mother. She knows her mom is striking and secretly hopes to be just as if not more striking.

“Mom.” You smiled, sighing in her hug.

“Oh, my baby.” She chuckled.

You stepped aside. “You remember Natasha.”

“Oh of course I do.” Your mom smiled lovingly before hugging her.

“It’s good to see you again. Thank you for letting me and my sister come to your home for Christmas.”

“Oh honey no thanks needed.”

“This is my little sister Yelena.”

“Hi Mrs. Y/L/N it’s nice to meet you, thanks for letting me tag along.” Yelena smiled.

“Oh sweets, just call me Sophia.” Your mom smiled welcoming them into your childhood home.

Ollie barked as ran to your mother.

“Yes, my good boy we’ve got treats for you too!” Sophia laughs petting Ollie.

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“This is your room?” Natasha smirked, stepping inside.

You blushed rubbing the back of your neck as she looked over your trophies.

“Such a jock.” She smirked seeing you with Finn and Mike in your uniforms. ”You were even a looker back then.”

You clear your throat before saying. “I still have that uniform.”

She turned, raising her brow with a slight smirk.

“I will definitely be taking it back home.” You nod.

Natasha giggled, turning around and looking back at the photos on your nightstand.

“This is baby Beth?” She smiled seeing Quinn holding her in the hospital bed with you right next to them.

“Yeah, 20 inches and 5 pounds 8 ounces.” You smile.

“She was a long baby.” She chuckled.

“That she was.”

“A lot of photos of Quinn.” Natasha smirked.

“Yeahhhh.” You cleared your throat.

“Is that a poster of Quinn?” Natasha furrowed her brow.

“Oh my God.” You rushed trying to take it down off the back of your door. “I originally had something else here and she made me put this up instead.” You huff finally taking it down.

“Oh? And what was it?”

“A poster of the Victoria's Secret angels.” You muttered.

Natasha chuckled lowly walking over to you. She took the poster, setting it in the trash before laying her hands on your chest. “I take it you only ever had Quinn in this room?”

You nod leaning down, capturing her lips, and letting your hands grip her waist. “You wanna know what I’ve been craving?” You ask as you nibble on her neck.

“What’s that?” She sighs holding in a moan as you bite down on her sweet spot.

“Your taste.” You husk.

“Oh fuck.” She bites her lip feeling the way you palm her ass.

In one swift motion, you lift her up on your dresser only to be interrupted by a knock on your door.

You sigh against her forehead.

“Natalia!” Yelena sings her name.

“Natttty!” Fin giggles as she mimics Yelena.

Natasha smiles, kissing your lips promising you that tonight you can taste her.

You step away as she hops off and you open the door.

“Yessss?” You chuckle.

“Just wanted to see your room.” Yelena smirks.

You chuckle watching Fin hop on your desk chair spinning in circles.

“Oh my gosh, is this little Y/N?” Yelena smirked, lifting a photo of you Finn, and Mike through the years for Halloween.

Natasha squealed looking over the photos.

“Awww baby you were, let's see… The Power Rangers, Jedi, ninjas, GhostBusters, and are you Superman here?“

“Yes.” You mutter with a roll of your eyes.

“Awww!” Natasha fawned over baby you.

“You know I have many more photos downstairs I can show you all while the food is cooking.” Your mom beamed.

“Aw no mom please-“

“It’s too late Y/L/N.” Yelena cackled following your mom with Finley in tow.

“Come on, I wanna see them.” Natasha smirks, taking your hand.

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Throughout dinner you were completely enamored with the way Natasha held an engaging and fun conversation with your parents. She was so freaking charming! Even Yelena!

Something you always knew about your parents is that they were a great judge of character when it came to people outside of the family. Take Mike and Finn for example. Your parents have known them since they were kids. They proudly watched all of you grow and mourned for months when Finn lost his life.

Then came other friends like the Glee club. Your parents liked most of the club, but there were a few they didn’t like very much like Rachel, Noah Puckerman, and even Quinn when you first started dating. It took them a long time to tolerate her.

Now here are two new people who will be in your life for good, and your parents are loving them.

“That was so good Sophia thank you.” Natasha placed her fork down wiping her mouth.

“It was delicious Mom.” You say standing up to collect the empty plates.

“Soooo good.” Yelena nodded.

“Thanks GG.” Beth smiled.

“Tasty.” Fin nodded as your mom wiped her mouth.

“It was my pleasure.” Sophia smiled.

“Thanks, hun, I’ll grab the desert.” Frankie smiled.

“Oh and a-“

“Coffee you got it, hun.” Frankie winked. “Any other takers?”

“I’ll take a cup.” Yelena smiled.

“Yes please.”

“Alrighty then I will brew a pot.”

“Me too popo!” Finley giggled.

“You got it!” Your dad laughed pecking her cheek.

You rinsed the dishes, setting them in the dishwasher as your father began brewing a pot of coffee and two hot cocoas.

You lean against the sink as the pot drips.

“How have things been dad?” You ask.

“Your mom and I are doing great. Just keeping busy at the house. Thinking about retirement.”

“Oh yeah?” You grin.

“Yeah but you know me, I love my work and I’m happy to continue it.”

“And mom?”

“She wants me to retire.” He chuckles along with you. “Wants to get a home in Mexico, but- I don’t know.” Your dad sighs.

“You don’t want to leave me huh?” You smirk.

“That and I know the minute we make it to Mexico your mother would be a wreck. She won’t admit it but she wants to be closer to you and the girls. I would like that too really. To watch you grow and watch the girls grow.” Your dad smiles as he imagines you nearby.

“Well you know I’d support whatever you both choose, but I would love it if you both lived closer. I can’t lie.” You laugh.

“I mean we could and still travel around every now and then.” Your dad mutters with a shrug deep in thought. “Anyway, how did it go with Quinn?”

“Oddly she’s been very calm.”

“Well maybe without her mother in her ear, she found some peace.” Your dad speaks as he pours the coffee.

You step up making Natasha’s and yours as he makes his and your moms. You both load up the tray with mugs and cookies before your dad grabs it and you both make your way to the table.

“Oooh, we’re playing Loteria?” You grinned.

“Just one game.” Your mom looks at Finley who is giggling as she sips her hot cocoa with the help of her popo. “Also because these two young ladies have never played before.”

“You two are going to love it.” You grinned.

“Who doesn’t love Mexican bingo.” Yelena chuckled as you carefully picked out your play card.

“Can I call them out GG?” Beth asked.

“Of course mi hija!”

“Okay is everyone ready?” Your dad asked.

Once Beth received the ’okay’ she began calling out the shuffled deck.

“La Dama, La Dama.”

“Great pernucation sweetheart.” your mom praises Beth.

“Oooh me too, me too, Bethy!” Fin smiled.

“Okay say this one with me Fin.” Beth showed the next card to her little sister before saying. “La Bandera.”

“La Bandera,” Finley repeated.

“That means the flag Fin.” Beth nodded with Finley.

“¿Has estado enseñando español a los niños?” Your mother asks you if you’ve been teaching the kids Spanish.

“I know it but Fin doesn’t.” Beth replied, smirking at you. “La Maceta, La Maceta.”

“Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N, you know how important it is to teach Fin, Spanish before she gets older.”

“I know I’ll start teaching her I promise.”

“Ooooh can we play some Selena while we play?” Beth asks excitedly.

“Sure!” Your dad nods.

“Anything for Selenas!” You and your family quote.

”Okay, I need to watch this movie.” Yelena chuckles.

“Oh my gosh, I’ll totally show it to you!” Beth grins.

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As soon as the girls fell asleep you made your parents some hot cocoa and sat them down letting them know you still had one more gift for them.

“Merry Christmas.” You and Natasha smile, handing off a small box to your parents.

Your mom furrowed her brows as she began ripping the paper.

Your mom gasped seeing the small photo of Natasha’s ultrasound.

“You’re pregnant?” Your dad asks in shock.

“I am.” Natasha smiles squeezing your hand.

“Oh, my-“ your mom stands pulling Natasha in a hug. “Congratulations!”

“Congratulations!” Your dad laughs pulling you in a hug.

Natasha cries tears of joy as your mother talks about how she’ll be there for Natasha every step of the way.

“The girls don’t know yet. Figured we’d tell them when we’re back home.” You explain.

“We won’t say a word.” Your parents nod.

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You and Natasha finally laid down in bed she immediately snuggled into you. You looked down kissing her lips letting your hand roam down her body to her bottom.

“Hmm… hmhm.” She hummed, shaking her head.

“Aww come on baby we can be quiet.” You move to her neck nibbling her weak spot. She sighs and you say “Let’s mark my room with you.”

“As much as I want to wipe your ex-wife away from this room, I just can’t do it. Your parents are down the hall and the girls plus my sister-“

“Okay yeah, when you put it that way.” You mutter.

“I love that you can’t get enough of me.” She chuckles, booping your nose.

“I’ll never get enough of you.” You say pecking her temple.

“Your mom asked me about our wedding.”

“Did you show her your binder?”

“I did.” Natasha chuckled.

“What’d she say?”

“She said I have great taste, and she and your dad want to help us with the wedding.”

“Oh, wow, yeah, I’ll have to talk to them about that. We don’t need it.”

“I know that but they’re your parents, they're going to want to help. Just like mine will want to as well.”

You nod as you yawn.

“I’ve been thinking maybe we could have our wedding in the next two years. I want time to lose the baby weight and of course to have time with our baby before we have our honeymoon.”

“We could always hire a nanny to go with us. That way we have time for ourselves and still see our kids.”

“Maybe I can convince Yelena and her friend Kate.”

“That is a wonderful idea.” You sigh pulling her close. “Goodnight my love.”

“Goodnight mi amor.” Natasha smirks as you chuckle sleepily.

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“Hi, Nat!” Mike smiled, hugging her before turning towards you. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Hey bud, hi Tina.” You grin, hugging them. “You remember Natasha.”

“Hi, Nat.” Tina nodded hugging her as well.

“It’s been a while we’ll all have to meet up more.” Mike chuckled.

“Oooh yeah, double date!” Tina grinned.

“Yeah and a third wheel.” You chuckled along with Natasha.

“Wha-“ Mike and Tina furrowed their brows.

“Whose the third wheel?” Mike asked before noticing your and Natasha’s hand.

Mike gasps loudly startling Tina causing her to look at his line of sight.

“Oh my God you’re pregnant?!” Tina gasped.

You and Nat looked at one another smiling lovingly before nodding at them.

“Congratulations!” Tina beamed giving Nat and you another hug.

“Damn, Y/N, you’ve got some magic beans.” He snickered.

You laughed seeing the rest of the club trickle in.

“Natasha!” Kurt squealed, rushing towards her.

“Kurt hi!” She giggled as he hugged her

“Easy honey.” Blaine chuckled before saying hello.

“I'm so glad you two could make it.” Kurt smiled.

“Us three.” You grin.

“Wha-“ Kurt furrowed his brow.

“Us three.” Natasha giggled holding her stomach with your hand.

“Oh! Ohhhh! You’re pregnant!” Kurt squealed, jumping up and down.

“Shut the fuck up are you serious?!” Santana laughed.

“I totally called it.” Brittany nodded.

“Oh damn, you got two baby mamas now.” Artie raised his brows.

“Boy shut up.” Mercedes huffed at him.

“Congratulations you two that’s awesome.” Sam Evans smiled, giving you both a hug.

“So is the wedding before you blow up like a whale or after you lose the baby weight?”

Everyone turned back to see Coach Sue Sylvester leaning against the door panel.

“Coach Sylvester?” Brittany furrowed her brows.

“Is this hell?” Santana asked, looking around.

Sylvester walked in and the crowd parted instantly, everyone still afraid of her wrath.

“Hmm, I heard you left Fabray.” She stared you down. “She was always my top Star. Never had another great like her. So Quinn, giving you two kids is not enough for you?”

“Uh, that’s not-“

“You knocked her up in her prime, and now what? You do the same to this-“

“Alright, that’s enough. I don’t know who you are, and quite frankly, I don’t care to know. Your ’great leader’ is the one who ruined her own relationship. By not only destroying Y/N’s chance at MIT, and lying about another pregnancy, but sneaking around with Rachel Berry! Those are just three things. Is that not enough for you?” Natasha challenged the old Cheerios coach, raising her brow.

It was silent as the glee members' jaws dropped.

Sue studied the redhead intently before smirking. “I like you.”

You let out a sigh of relief.

“I can only imagine what it would have been like to have you as a cheerio.”

“Me too.” You mutter biting your lip.

“We would have been unstoppable in at least 3 counties.” Brittany grinned.

“Oh my God could you imagine the bloodshed that would have happened over this dummy?” Santana snickered, gesturing towards you.

“Hey.” You huffed.

“Ooh ooh, I know what would have happened!” Kurt grinned. “Quinn would have found out about Nat’s crush on Y/N, and would have totally stolen Y/N before Natasha could let them know how she feels. Then Y/N would have gotten closer to Nat cause come on. Then Quinn would have done something stupid like cheat on Y/N with Puckerman. Which would have pushed Nat and Y/N together. Then Quinn would try to get Y/N back over, and over again until she inevitably gets with Berry. All the while Avery attempts to even hold a conversation with Y/N.”

You and Natasha look towards Kurt with raised eyebrows.

“What?!” Kurt huffed as everyone stared at him.

“Sorry, but who is Avery?” You furrowed your brows.

“Gabrielle Avery dumbass.” Santana groaned.

“Ohhhh yeah!” You chuckled remembering the blue-eyed brunette.

Natasha furrowed her brows at you.

“I mean I don’t even know who that is.” You shrug.

“Annnnnyway who's down for some drinks? I’ve got Schuester’s credit card.” Sue smirked.

“Nice.” Brittany chuckled.

“That whole back-and-forth thing is still going on huh?” You ask the cheer coach.

“As God is my witness, he will never win.” Sue grit. “Anywho Lopez’s let’s go grab some booze.”

“Oh.” Santana raised her brow in surprise. “Yeah okay.”

“Oh, we’re drinking here?” Blaine asked in confusion.

“I’m the principal… I can do whatever I want.” Sue laughed before walking out with her favorite Cheerios in tow.

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Once Sue returned all of you were taking shots and mixing cocktails. You were currently watching your fiancé with your best friend singing her heart out to Say You’ll Be There by the Spice Girls.

”I'm giving you everything (I'll give you everything)

All that joy can bring (all that joy can bring)

This I swear (yes, I swear)

And (and) all that I want from you (all I want from you)

Is a promise you'll be there (is a promise you)

Yeah, I want you

Any fool can see they're falling

I gotta make you understand

I'll give you everything, on this I swear

Just promise you'll always be there

I'm giving you everything (I'm giving you everything)

All that joy can bring (all that joy can bring)

This I swear (yes, I swear)

And all that I want from you (all that I want from you)

Is a promise you (I want you to promise to)

Will be there (I'll be there)!”

You clapped and cheered along with the others.

“Hot damn Lopez you still got it with those pipes!” Sue clapped.

“Hell yeah, I do!” She grinned high-fiving Mercedes.

“You sang too.” You smiled, pecking Natasha’s forehead.

“It was fun.” She grinned. “You want a water Detka?”

You nod as she takes your solo cup, setting it on the table as she opens a water bottle For you.

“Thank you.” You smile, kissing her cheek.

“You’re welcome.” She grins sitting down.

“Y/LN! We’re up!” Sam grinned.

You give him a lazy thumbs up.

You line up with Sam, Artie, and Mike.

”It's tearin' up my heart when I'm with you

But when we are apart, I feel it, too

And no matter what I do, I feel the pain

With or without you! Hey!”

“Oh wow!” Natasha giggles next to Santana. As they watch the 4 of you dance.

“Oh, it gets dorkier.” She cackles.

Mike slides to the center singing to Tina.

”Baby, I don't understand

Just why we can't be lovers

Things are getting out of hand

Tryin' too much, but baby, we can win

Let it go

If you want me, girl, let me know

I am down on my knees

I can't take it anymore!”

“It's tearin' up my heart when I'm with you

But when we are apart, I feel it, too

And no matter what I do, I feel the pain

With or without you!”

Oh, alright

You slide up to the middle.

“Baby, don't misunderstand (Don't misunderstand)

What I'm tryin' to tell ya

In the corner of my mind (Corner of my mind)

Baby, it feels like we're runnin' out of time

Let it go

If you want me, girl, let me know

I am down on my knees

I can't take it anymore!”

“It's tearin' up my heart when I'm with you

But when we are apart, I feel it, too

And no matter what I do, I feel the pain

With or without you!”

“Tearin' up my heart and soul

We're apart, I feel it, too

And no matter what I do, I feel the pain

With or without you

Tearin' up my heart and soul (Alright)

We're apart, I feel it too (I feel it, too)

And no matter what I do, I feel the pain

With or without you

It's tearin' up my heart when I'm with you

(Tearin' up my heart and soul)

But when we are apart, I feel it, too

(We're apart, I feel it, too)

And no matter what I do, I feel the pain

With or without you

And no matter what I do, I feel the pain

With or without you.”

“Good lord.” Sue laughed.

“Thank you thank youuuu!” Artie nodded, grinning lazily.

You hiccuped sitting next to Natasha and smiling at her. “Was the song too dorky?” You snickered.

“Just a bit but you were super cute singing it.” She smiled brushing your hair back. “Sometimes I forget how well you and Mike dance.”

Artie rolled over to you offering you a shot.

“No thanks.” You smile, shaking your head.

“Suit yourself.” He smirked, taking it for himself.

“You having fun?” You furrowed your brows. You felt a little guilty feeling a bit drunk when she can’t drink at all. This would have sent Quinn into a rage.

“I am actually! It’s cool that I get to see where you grew up and get to know your friends more.”

“You’re not mad that you can’t drink?”

“No!” Natasha huffed with a loving chuckle. “I’m pregnant. This is something I’ve always wanted and feared I couldn’t have. Not only that but I’m having a baby with you. My fiancé that I’m going to spend the rest of my life with. Plus it’s fun getting to see you sloshed. You're a little needy and I love it.” Natasha smirked, kissing your frown away.

“I’m not needy.”

“Baby, earlier you got sad because I had to leave you to go and pee.”

“Oh yeah.” You chuckled.

Your attention was diverted hearing Mercedes yelling at Artie.

“Artie put it down.”

“I’m g-giving Finn a shot.” He huffed.

“Come on Artie.” You sighed, taking the framed picture of Finn.

“He wanted- a drink too.” Artie hiccups.

You grabbed a napkin and some water and wiped the alcohol off the picture frame.

Natasha walked over towards you looking down at the photo of your lost friend.

“You okay baby?” She asked softly as she took the frame and placed it back on the wall.

“Hmhm.” You nod, taking her hand.

“Y/N, play us a song.” Blaine smiled as Kurt snuggled into his side.

“Yeah!” Mike clapped.

“Oooh do Adele!” Kurt slurred half asleep on his husband’s shoulder. “Wait! No! Celine!”

“I’m not tryin’ to cry.” Mercedes shook her head.

“I think I’ll do a song from one of Finn’s favorite bands.” You say lifting the guitar.

Everyone sat down, some with drinks others snuggled into their partners' side.

Your fingers began picking the strings of the guitar as you began the intro.

“Aww, I haven’t heard this in so long.” Sam smiled while taking a sip of his drink.

“Shut up trouty the song is starting!” Santana hissed.

Natasha chuckled looking around as your friends began singing along with you.

”Breathe in for luck, breathe in so deep. This air is blessed, you share with me. This night is wild, so calm and dull. These hearts, they race, from self-control. Your legs are smooth as they graze mine. We're doing fine, we're doing nothing at all.

My hopes are so high that your kiss might kill me!

So won't you kill me, so I die happy? My heart is yours to fill or burst to break or bury! Or wear as jewelry, whichever you prefer.

The words are hushed, let's not get busted. Just lay entwined here, undiscovered. Safe in here from all the stupid questions. ‘Hey, did you get some?’ Man, that is so dumb.

Stay quiet, stay near, stay close, they can't hear. So we can get some…”

Natasha smirked as you sang to her. She really doesn’t even know this song, but its quickly becoming her favorite.

“My hopes are so high that your kiss might kill me! So won't you kill me, so I die happy?! My heart is yours to fill or burst, to break or bury! Or wear as jewelry, whichever you prefer.

Hands down, this is the best day I can Ever remember, I'll always remember the sound Of the stereo, the dim of the soft lights! The scent of your hair that you twirled in your fingers! And the time on the clock when we realized it's so late! And this walk that we shared together!

The streets were wet, and the gate was locked. So I jumped it and I let you in. And you stood at your door with your hands on my waist. And you kissed me like you meant it! And I knew that you meant it, that you meant it, that you meant it! And I knew that you meant it, that you meant it…”

The glee club cheered and laughed as Natasha ran into your arms.

“I love you.” She sighed against your lips.

“I love you too, Nat.”

“Know a good spot where you can show me just how much?” Natasha smirked.

“Oh wo- You wanna-?“

Natasha giggled, nodding.

“Yes. Yup. Let’s go.” You both slip out unnoticed.

You take her to the old Cheerios locker room.

“Are these massage tables?” Natasha furrowed her brow.

“The Cheerios have a masseur on retainer.” You explain as you lift her up.

“Hmmm,” Natasha sighed against your lips. “Seeing you singing and playing guitar… it’s just- fuck it’s so sexy!” Your fiancé made a move to unbuckle your belt but stopped abruptly.

“Uh oh, what’s wrong?”

“I feel sick… wait no I’m horny… wait no I’m hungry. Ugh! I’m all three how is that possible?!” Natasha was so frustrated she began to cry.

“Whoa hey, it’s okay love. Let’s get you some food. I’m hungry too actually could go for a-“

“A burger! No pizza! Wait no… a burger.” She nodded.

“Come on, let's go see if the boozers wanna come.”

You both walk back to the choir room when you see them counting down.

“Just in time.” Santana smirked as she handed you a cup of champagne.

“Here Nat it’s just ginger ale.” Brittany grinned.

“Ball drops at 10!”

“I’m sorry detka I really wanted us to be- you know right about now.” She cringed; she really did want to give you a special happy new year.

“Don’t worry about love.” You chuckle as everyone begins counting down.

“5! 4! 3! 2! 1! Happy New Year!!!!!!”

You turned to Natasha kissing her softly.

“Happy New Year.” You both smile against one another before pulling away.

“Happy New Year guys!” Mike grinned hugging you both.

Soon everyone was hugging and laughing.

⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗

“Hmmmmm, oh my God!”

Your eyes widen watching your fiancé eating her burger.

“Damn Y/N does she moan more with the burger or with you?” Santana smirked, elbowing your side.

“Fuck you, Lopez.” You laughed

“Detka, can I have another milkshake?”

“Of course. I’ll be right back.”

“How’s the wedding planning going?” Kurt asked as he ate his husband's fries.

“It’s kind of taken a hit. We’re having a baby now so I wanna be able to lose the baby weight before the wedding, but I can show you what I have in mind.”

“I would love to design your dress and maybe even the bridesmaid dresses. I know I’m not Vera or Vivienne-“

“Oh Kurt, I would love that.”

“I’ll come by soon and bring some samples and you can show me your wedding ideas.” Kurt smiled.

“Don’t be afraid to tell him no.” Blaine chuckled pecking Kurt’s temple who punched him lightly.

“I will obviously also be designing Y/N’s tux and the groomsmen’s suits.”

You sat down with two milkshakes.

“Thanks, malysh.” Natasha smiled sweetly pecking your cheek.

“If I could give you any tips on the wedding it would be to remember that it’s about you two not about the guests.” Mercedes chimed in.

“Yeah, don’t get stressed out it’s your day and that’s all that matters.” Sam nodded.

“Take mental pictures and remember deep breaths.” Blaine added.

“Remember deep breaths.” Kurt chuckled.

“I have no advice… oh wait no! I do! Scan everything you want for the registry!”

“I second that.” Brittany giggles.

“Dude you can-“

“Already ahead of you.” You cackled, showing Mike the new Lego set that dropped that you have been wanting.

“Y/N, we are so not getting Lego on the registry.”

“This is for the whole family.” You defend.

“Hmhm.” Natasha rolled her eyes playfully.

Once all of you finished eating you all said your goodbyes and see you laters. Everyone wishes you both the best of luck and a healthy pregnancy.

You were halfway home when Natasha told you to pull over. You stopped in an empty secluded parking lot.

“You okay? Do you need-“

Natasha interrupted you, kissing your lips sensually before moving to the back seat. She smirked at you as she slowly began removing the straps of her dress.

“Oh wow.” You immediately followed her to the back, hitting your knee on the way, but you couldn't care less.

You moaned against her lips as she straddled you kissing you with as much passion as she could muster. Her lips moved against yours in a perfect dance. The faint taste of chocolate and strawberry against your tongue.

You both break slightly apart panting puffs of air fogging the windows of the car. You lean down a bit licking her nipples as she rocks against you before pulling you back in a kiss.

You sigh against her lips feeling her grinding against you. “I love you so much, Natalia.” You say softly as you push her hair back.

The red-haired siren let her fingers dig through your hair

“I love you so very much… Now show me 'cause I’m incredibly wet for you and I don’t feel sick.” She smirked diving back into you.

You unbuckle your belt before shoving your pants down when you notice Natasha on your side bent over on her knees. Her dress pushed up over her bottom and her thing pushed over to the side.

She looked back at you biting her lip as she sees the vein leading down to your cock.

“I can’t taste you first?” You smirk.

“Next time, right now I’m so wet and my pussy is throbbing for you.”

You frown a bit, you love tasting her.

“Come here.” She husks.

You feel her mouth around you in seconds. “Fuck so good but so unfair.”

“No biting.” You hiss slapping her ass.

“I can’t help it.” She smirks as you get behind her.

“That’s okay baby you can make it up to me.” You smirk slapping her cheek once more before letting your member run against her clit.

Natasha huffed in frustration before taking you in her hand and pushing you inside her throbbing cunt.

“Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to me.” You groan as Natasha rides you slowly making sure to take every last inch of you.

“You like this baby?” She smirks looking back at you as she rides your staff.

“Fuck so much.” You husk letting your hands roam her backside.

You lean down, capturing her lips making sure to bite down on her bottom lip.

“Hmm, detka, you feel so good inside me.” She sighs as you grab her hair with one hand and grasp her hip with the other.

“You better hold on to something.” You grunt as you begin hammering your hips. You smirk as she slaps a hand on the window and the other on the passenger seat headrest.

“Ooooh fuuuuuck! Yesss right there malysh!” Natasha groaned, meeting your every thrust.

Her body rises keeping you deep inside her as she rotates her hips against your skin.

You both moan against one another as you piston your movements together.

“Fuuuuuck!” You groan letting your hands run against her stomach and tits. Your fingers playing with her nipples. You move one hand to her throat and the other wrapped around her midsection.

“I’m so close, keep going!” Natasha moans.

You roughly turn her neck to kiss you as you continue your rhythm. You grunt hearing her moans rise in octaves.

She twitches against you groaning as her pussy grips your member vibrating around you.

“Oh Y/N… Oh, daddy!” She whimpers, still feeling high.

“Such a good girl you’ll give daddy another right?” You husk in her ear.

“Yes, daddy.” She nods.

You push her down and grip her hips as you thrust hard and fast.

Natasha let out a guttural moan as you hit her spot over and over.

“Ohhh fuuuuuck!” You groaned feeling your cum shoot deep inside her pussy.

You panted heavily feeling your dick twitch seeing her pussy drenched in cum. “Look at that.” You sigh seeing your cum seeping from her pussy. You slowly gather your combined juices on your staff before dumping it on her pussy before sliding back in.

“I love when you fill me up.” She moans.

“Me too baby.” You hum feeling her clench around you.

You pull her against you, sitting you both down. She turns her neck kissing you once more.

⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗

You quietly entered the house to find Yelena FaceTiming Kate with Beth and Fin passed out around her.

“Well, well, well look who just walked in.” She smirked, noticing how disheveled the two of you looked.

“Happy New Year to you too.” Natasha grinned.

“Happy New Year Nat! Oh, and you too Y/N! Congratulations by the way.“ Kate waved.

“Happy New Year afterthought.” Yelena cackled.

“You flipped her off as you lifted Beth.”

“Damn it, Lena.” Natasha grit.

“It’s just Kate she won’t tell anyone.”

“Lips are sealed.”

Natasha lifted Fin.

“Babe no I’ll get Fin in a minute.”

���Y/N, I can lift Fin I promise.

“Cestra let me.”

“Zip it both of you. I'm not a whale yet I can do it.”

You sighed making your way up the staircase as your daughter snored away.

“Natty?” Fin yawned.

“It’s okay malysh go back to sleep.”

“I made it to midnight with Lena, GG, and Popo.”

“You’re such a big girl.” Natasha pecked her cheek.

“I missed you and Papa.”

“We missed you too bug.”

“Next year will you stay with me?”

“Yes, bug you me, and Papa.”

“And Bethy.”

“And Beth.” She nodded.

“And Lena.” Fin added.

“And Yelena.”

“And Niko.”

“Whose Niko?” Natasha asked, laying her down and looking up at you as you struggled tucking Beth in who continued to snore away. Just like her mother, she’s a deep sleeper.

“My baby broder. He’s not here yet but he will be.”

“How- Fin what do you mean your baby brother?” You press kneeling next to Natasha.

“My baby broder Niko he’s in Nattys tumtum.” Fin smiled sleepily.

“Fin how do you know that? Did someone tell you something?”

“I’ve been dreaming of him.” Fin yawned. “He says he’s cited to meet you and Papa. Niko says he chose Natty because he saw how much she wanted a baby too. Kisses pwease.”

Stunned you lean over pecking her forehead and Natasha leans down pecking her cheek.

“G‘night.” Fin yawned, turning over to snuggle her big sister.

You stand dimming the lamp before helping Natasha up.

You both quietly make your way to your room sitting on the bed still stunned by what Fin said.

“Holy shit.” You mutter rubbing your face. “That was weird.”

“A little but I’ve heard of toddlers like Fin who have this kind of… gift? I don’t know what you would call it… foresight? I mean Y/N you said you saw him in your dream.”

“I did.” You nod.

“I don’t want to freak you out but Nikolai is the name I wanted if we have a boy.”

“Nikolai. Niko is totally what I would call him too.” You chuckle, shaking your head. “Let’s get ready for bed.”

You both quickly brush your teeth and wash your faces before lying down.

You lower yourself down toward Natasha’s stomach.

“Hi, Niko. We can’t wait to meet you too.” You say softly before kissing her stomach and moving back up to hold her.

“I can’t believe this is happening.” Natasha smiles snuggling against you.

⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗

You say your goodbyes to your parents who tell you they’ve decided to move closer to you and Natasha. The flight home was fast and the drive back home was good. Everything was going great until your daughters began arguing right when they got home.

“Natty where will Niko sleep?”

“Fin stop it! There is no Niko! Stop being weird.” Beth snapped.

“Beth-“

“Niko is real! He’s our brother!”

“Girls-“

“Stop it! There is no-“

“Beth.” You say again getting her attention by the tone of your voice. You weren’t angry, you weren’t even frustrated. “Let’s talk.”

You sit your children down sitting across from them on the coffee table along with Natasha.

“Beth, Fin is right Natasha and I are having a baby. You're going to have another sibling. Not anytime soon but you will, come August.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?!”

“Beth, watch your mouth!” You say in shock.

“Ooo Bethy said a baaaaad woooord.”

“First you cheated on Mom and left us for her, and now you’re telling me you’re having a baby with her?!” Beth huffed standing up in anger.

“Beth it wasn’t like that. I didn’t leave-“

“You did leave! You left us to start another family! You think you can fool me but you can’t! You think you can buy me new shit and a pc and everything will be okay, but it’s not! She will never be mom.” Beth had tears in her eyes from how angry she was. She looked just like Quinn when she was upset. She snapped her head to Natasha giving her a look that would kill. “You will never be my Mom.”

“Beth.” You took a deep breath. “I know you’re angry, but first please stop cursing at me, and do not look at her like that. I am your parent and Natasha is your stepmother; show a little more respect. Second, I got you those things not to make things okay, but to help you feel more at home. I know things are different and they’re moving so fast, but I love you so much. I could never replace you, Fin, or even your mother for that matter. The is your mom and I were not working together anymore. We tried for a couple of years, and it just wasn’t good for us anymore. She was unhappy with me and I her. We would have split up even if Natasha was not in the picture.“

“Beth, I’m not trying to replace your mom. Quinn loves you and Fin very much. I just want your mom to feel at ease knowing that I will always treat you and Fin as my own as well.”

“You aren’t my stepmother yet and that is not my brother.” Beth huffed pointing to Natasha before lifting her bag.

“Where are you going?” You ask. “Let’s talk this out, Beth.”

“I’m going home. Fin come on let’s go.”

Fin looked at you and Natasha unsure of what to do.

“Fin, come on it’s moms week anyways. Let’s go.”

“It’s okay bug I’ll walk you.” You sigh it is Quinn’s week and you're sure she misses the girls.

Beth all but ran out the door.

“Bye Natty.” Fin hugged Natasha tightly and whispered to her stomach. “It’s okay Niko, she didn’t mean it.”

Natasha kissed her cheek as you lifted her up.

“I’ll be back.”

Natasha nodded wiping her tears.

“You okay?”

“Hmhm.” Natasha nodded.

“Fin is right Beth didn’t mean it. She’s just angry and doesn’t know what to do about it. She’ll come around.” You say softly pecking her temple before walking out the door. As soon as you walked to your old home Quinn met you in the living room.

“What happened?”

“We told her about the baby.” You say setting Finley down who ran to Quinn. “She’s not taking it very well.”

“Mommy! I missed you!” She beamed, kissing Quinn’s cheek.

“I missed you too, Finley.” She smiled, holding her little girl tightly.

“You look great.” You chuckled, taking in her appearance. She was tan and looked more relaxed than she had in years.

”Thank you.” She smiled.

“How was the trip?”

“It was so relaxing. I loved it but I did miss the girls.” She smiled with a shrug.

“Mommy, I made it to midnight!”

“I remember you called and talked to me, remember we Facetimed.”

“Oh yeah!” Finley giggled.

“Wanna help me make dinner.”

“No.” Finley giggled.

“How rude!” Quinn tickled her. “Beth will come around.” Quinn looked over at you.

“I don’t know, she is your daughter.” You chuckled.

“Ha ha…Give her time. I’ll talk to her after she cools down.

You nod and kiss Finley before leaving them and returning to your fiancé.

“She just needs time.” Natasha spoke as she ran her fingers through your hair.

You wanna believe that you desperately do, but at the end of the day she is Quinn’s mini me.

[torukmaktoskxawng]

'anla - part eight (finale)

Series Masterlist

Summary: Y/n and Ao'nung's future is revealed as Pandora is thrown into war.

Pairing: Ao'nung/Fem!Na'vi!Sully Reader

Warnings: Fluff, romance, mentions of mating, implied sexual content, injury, mentions of birth, mentions of death, etc. (I'd considered NSFW but for only, like, three or four paragraphs)

posted on ao3

Word Count: 6k+

Tag: #'anla ao'nung fic

Na'vi Words: Iknimaya - Rite of Passage, tsurak - skimwing, Sänrr Rong - Glow Tunnel, marui - house/pod, nga yawne lu oer - I love you, kuru/tswin - queue braid, tsaheylu - the bond, ilu - plesiosaur like animal, ma muntxate - my mate/spouse/wife, olo'eyktan - clan leader, tsahik - spiritual leader, sa'sem - parents, ikran - mountain banshee, pa'li - horse like animal, olo'eykte - female clan leader, ma'txe'lan - my heart, tulkun - whale like animal

Taglist (bold indicates "could not tag"): @bangtanxberm @aonungmyaddiction @lv9su @aisselasstuff @yourusername1 @amortencjja @king-julian6201 @gg-trini @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @mikeyswifie @heart-an0n @iloveavatar @urdads-gf  @kentfisherswifee6 @sakurayuki8655-blog @ken-zah @nilrilie @g-l-1-t-c-h-3-r @iovemoonyy @sopluto @frvv

A/N: As my first attempt at writing for Avatar comes to a close, I want to thank everyone on ao3 and tumblr for the breathtaking support for this series! I could not have continued without your love for this fic and it only makes me want to write more for this fandom and for you!

THREE YEARS LATER...

The war against the Sky People ended up spreading across all of Pandora. More clans got involved and the Na'vi grew in numbers, rallying to the call of Toruk Makto. Jake was a soldier by heart, and he knew, deep in his gut, that this war would be his last, win or lose, and hopefully, it would be the last defense against the Sky People once and for all. He was determined to make this world clean, free of war, and with a future far brighter for his remaining children. Although, they weren't considered children anymore.

Jake Sully, as a soldier, knew that wars could drag on for years, and his own war was no exception. In order to secure a future for his children, he had to sacrifice watching said children grow up right out from under his nose.

Y/n and Lo'ak were quick to grow up. Blink and you would have missed it. After Neteyam was killed, they assumed the role of older siblings and didn't hesitate to take charge and take responsibility in the upcoming battles. Jake found it difficult to accept them as warriors and send them off to fight so soon after Neteyam, but he didn't have much of a choice. He needed every able-body out there, and by Na'vi law, his oldest daughter and son were fully grown and of the People.

It didn't help that Ao'nung and Tsireya were now in the picture and the Sully family now extended to them. Jake nearly felt blindsided that the very children he had known since birth fell in love with the son and daughter of the Metkayina clan leaders. After discovering Ao'nung and Y/n's courtship, Jake helplessly watched as Lo'ak quickly completed his Iknimaya and began to court Tsireya as well. Jake was relieved to see that both Ao'nung and Y/n waited on becoming mates, but they had waited for a different reason entirely. If it weren't for the war, they would have done so much sooner.

The Sky People didn't wait as long to retaliate against the Na'vi like they did last time. The humans fought back without giving the Metkayina much room to breathe, so in favor of fighting back, everything was put on hold, including Y/n's courtship with Ao'nung. Toruk Makto had hoped that they would wait until the end of the war, but as he said before, wars sometimes last years, and even Jake knew that war sometimes brought people closer together just as often as it drove them apart. The clans scattered around Pandora were no exception. 

Other Na'vi clans, even the more violent ones, were starting to answer Jake's call to war, agreeing to many peace treaties in exchange for eradicating the Sky People once and for all. While Jake was elsewhere, rallying other clans at his disposal, the Metkayina had a brief window of peace while waiting for reinforcements, and many took advantage of this time to be with their loved ones before war forced them apart once more. 

Ao'nung and Y/n were among those who took advantage of this. Slipping away and into the night, they grab their tsurak and take off. Ao'nung brings her to Sänrr Rong with the promise of surprising his love. The Glow Tunnel greets her favorite guests with the same beautiful, bioluminescent archway... but there was a new sight that Y/n had never seen before. Her mouth opened in a silent gasp at the sight of a small raft with a marui built on top, floating beneath the arch, rocking steadily along the small waves caused by their approach. It was simple but elegant, the mouth of the pod leading out to a small, wooden lookout. To avoid floating away, the top of the marui was tied up against the wall of the tunnel.

Ao'nung watched Y/n's reaction with a proud grin, "I made it myself."

"It is beautiful," she whispered breathlessly, "Thoughtful."

The tsurak swam up to the marui and waited until their riders had pushed themselves up onto the platform before swimming away. Ao'nung and Y/n both stood on the floating platform, craning their necks to look up at the very top of the archway, marveling at the ceiling of glowing algae all around them. They could have stayed that way for hours, Ao'nung standing behind Y/n, arms wrapped steadily around her as they continued to enjoy their small little haven, no war at the moment to speak of, just them and their Sänrr Rong.

"Ao'nung."

"Hm?"

"I am done waiting."

He tilted his head back down to the young woman in his arms, her siren eyes already waiting for him there. She didn't miss the small glimmer of hope in his eyes that he forced himself to stomp down as he gently moved her until she fully faced him, his hands now resting on either side of her head. He made her look directly at him, but she wouldn't have fought it. She would gladly look at him forever if she had a choice. His eyes flicked over her gaze, trying to spot any sign of doubt or hesitancy,

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," she answered without wasting a moment between breaths, leaning into his hands, "I want you to be mine and I want to be yours. For life."

His smile is unlike any other, so bright and joyful as if she had just given him the world. He leaned down to kiss her cheek, whispering into her skin, "I have always been yours... even when I didn't know it."

"I know," a faint smile etched into her lips, leaning into his kiss, "But I'm done holding back for the sake of war and our families. We've been courting for years now. Please don't make me wait any longer."

"I wouldn't dream of it," he chuckles under his breath, guiding the both of them to kneel across from each other on the wooden platform. Keeping his hands on her face, he quickly lands a soft kiss on her lips, "Nga yawne lu oer."

"I love you, too," she whispered, heart hammering in her chest like it never had before.

"Say the word, Forest Girl, and I'm yours."

"Please."

She whimpered quietly when he leaned away but the excitement took over when he had reached back to pull his kuru braid from over his shoulder. Y/n did so as well, reaching out for him with her free hand. She let out a breathy laugh when Ao'nung took it a step further and used his free arm to lift her up into his lap, pulling her flush against him as if they were already one soul. But it wasn't enough. Y/n squirmed at the thought of being even closer, more than they'd ever been before. With their queues in hand, they both held their breath as the tswin slowly began to entangle with each other, and the reactions they made when the tendrils completely tied together were instantaneous. 

Y/n tilted her head up as the air left her lungs, overcome by this new feeling, able to sense Ao'nung everywhere in her mind and body. His torso, pressed tightly against hers, expanded harshly when he breathed out, and through their bond, Y/n was able to feel his arousal when his nose detected her scent. She instinctively clung to him at the thought, her excitement spreading out through their new bond as she wrapped both of her arms around his neck. Ao'nung's hands slide up her whole spine, driving her to arch her back, goosebumps prickling her skin under his touch like electricity. When she finally leaned down to kiss him, the electricity came together in sparks. 

Before she knew it, Y/n was on her back, Ao'nung's weight pressed comfortably between her legs. Comforting and enticing. That is what she felt with his weight on hers, pressing her down against the wooden platform of the floating raft, all her senses filled with Ao'nung and nothing but him. It made her feel complete, whole again for the first time in her entire life. It was both overwhelming and not enough, and Ao'nung could feel that through their shared bond. He fitted himself over her, letting her wrap both of her arms and legs around him until there wasn't even room for air between their bodies. Pleasure began to spike through her when Ao'nung began to touch her, her womb warm with love and anticipation, tightening like a spring as their conjoined bodies began to rock in motion with the waves beneath their raft.

She wasn't sure when she had closed her eyes, but upon opening them again, she could see why Ao'nung hadn't brought her inside the marui for this. On her back, as they made love, she was able to watch the glowing algae twinkle down at her from the ceiling of the archway with awe. That, along with the pleasure Ao'nung brought her, his head buried in her neck, muffling his moans, Y/n felt as though she was floating over clouds, ascending into the equivalent of heaven. Wave after wave of pleasure, coming and receding, edging her to several gently, toe-curling climaxes. 

It may not have been before Eywa or any Spirit Tree most couples would become one under, but here-- in the place they truly fell in love and spent a great deal of time together, it just made sense. This was their place after all. When Ao'nung finally met her in ecstasy, finishing inside her, it was both dizzying and perfect all at once. Hearing her name fall from his lips as they both peaked, Y/n was nearly brought to tears with the amount of love she had for this man. She was excited to spend the rest of her life with him.

They continued to lay there in the afterglow, still connected through the bond, too exhausted to move or have Ao'nung pull out. Y/n knew she wouldn't be able to take his weight forever, but as of right now, she was comfy, and the pleasant sounds he made in her neck when her fingers combed through his hair were just as enticing as tsaheylu. 

"I wish we had done this sooner." She sighed, mourning all the time they could have been truly together without a care in the world.

"I'm not," Ao'nung plants a kiss on a sensitive part in the juncture of her neck, forming goosebumps wherever he touched her, "It may not have been as perfect as it is now if we had mated sooner."

"That is true," her arms tighten around his back, "It was worth the wait."

He brings his head up to hover over hers, her heart stuttering in her chest when her eyes meet his. Ao'nung smiled similarly to when they were younger and just starting to become friends. He smiled like when he first approached her on ilu, inviting her to see Sänrr Rong for the first time. He looked so young again. It wasn't as though a lot of time had passed and they were old, no, but war ages people far more than time could. As children of war, Ao'nung and Y/n were no exception. They had a few scars here and there, and as time and war dragged on, they were given more warrior tattoos to signify their valiant deeds, both along their faces and bodies. They were all grown up, old enough to notice the difference between now and when they first met on that beach several years ago.

Ao'nung leaned down again, placing several kisses all along her face, "Ma muntxate. Ma Y/n."

He whispered those words like confessions-- like he was testing them out on his tongue for the first time and he liked how they sounded. Her eyelashes fluttered while she basked in his attention, equally delighted by her new name as he continued to bathe her in kisses and confessions, "I cannot wait to spend our futures together."

She hums thoughtfully, her mind reverting to realistic goals and expectations, "I suppose we should discuss plans for our future. In case we survive the war."

"When we survive, Forest Girl. When."

"Alright. When we survive," her fingers trace one of his face tattoos, staring down at his lips, "Tell me what you want."

"I think I would like to build a different marui for us, and I want to stay there even when I am olo'eyktan."

"Hm." This request surprised her, "Your father's home is not to your liking?"

"It's in the center of the village. I never liked it there," he hid his face back in her neck, grumbling to himself, "I like it a lot less now at the idea of having to share you with the whole clan."

She snorts quietly, "No need for that. The clan would be better off having your sister as their tsahik than me."

"If that is what you want."

"It is."

"Alright, but I still want a separate marui. My sister can have our sa'sem's when she is tsahik. I know she wants a large family, so it's perfect for her future."

"And what about us? What kind of family do we want?"

Ao'nung hums in thought, "I chose what we should do for our home. You can choose what kind of family shall live in it."

Y/n taps her chin while staring up at the ceiling of the glowing archway, "I don't want a big family. Just one or two babies."

"Could I convince you for three?" He playfully nipped her neck, grinning to himself when a laugh was forced out of her lungs.

Her laugh reverted to soft hums while her hands resumed running through his hair, "Three. And no more than that."

~~~~~~~~~

Once they returned to the village the following afternoon, they were shocked to learn that Lo'ak and Tsireya had wasted no time in mating as well. The entire clan was overjoyed to learn that Tonowari and Ronal's two oldest children had found happiness during this small window of calm before the storm. Neytiri cried out of joy for her children while Kiri and Spider gave their siblings shit-eating grins when they noticed a few teeth marks on the two new couples. Tuk and Kailani just gagged at how sappy their older siblings looked.

When Jake returned to the Metkayina with an army, he found out his eldest daughter and son had found mates. It was like someone had completely tilted Pandora's axis right underneath his feet. Before Toruk Makto could even get used to the idea, he now had a son and a daughter-in-law. The Sullys' bond with the Metkayina had never been stronger.

While Y/n and Lo'ak had found partners, Kiri was focused on becoming the best healer, and Spider was more determined to make himself an active member of the family every day, never again accepting himself as just a stray cat. As for Tuk, the baby of the family, Jake and Neytiri's youngest... well, she had only just begun to start hunting both on land and at sea. And before Jake could manage to wrap his head around that, the Sky People quickly returned, so he didn't have time to think. Instead, he acted, refusing to run again in the hopes of saving his family. This time, his family stood its ground and fought right alongside him.

Like before, the Na'vi still managed to draw the Sky People back to Bridgehead by just the skin of their teeth, and there was a brief window for the respective clans to grieve for their loss and take their small window of peace before the next war made itself known. Everyone knew that the biggest threat was yet to come, and they would need to recruit more Na'vi. Jake wasn't going to take any chances this time, not when he had more to lose.

Not only were his children growing up and marrying off, but they had begun to start families of their own. After the most recent battle, Y/n had found out she was expecting. The Metkayina took this small moment of peace to celebrate the tsahik's and olo'eyktan's first grandchild, overjoyed by Eywa's gift for their recent victory against the Sky People. Neytiri laughed even as she was holding Jake back from trying to kill Ao'nung, joyful tears in her eyes at the realization that her first baby girl was going to have a baby of her own soon. While Jake entrusted both Spider and Lo'ak to give Ao'nung a stern talking to, he took a moment to let the news sink in, still surprised that he was going to be a grandfather.

Even with a baby on the way, Y/n wasn't deterred from fighting. There was still a fire in her eyes that would only grow larger as time went on. Y/n had a reason to fight the Sky People. At first, it was to avenge her twin brother, knowing that Quaritch and Wainfleet were still out there after Spider confessed to saving his biological father. The monsters responsible for Neteyam's death were still alive, and Y/n wanted to fix that. And now, the idea of a child on the way only drove her further to fight, wanting to win this war quickly so that her baby had a future. While Jake wanted to order his daughter to stand down, now more than ever, Neytiri convinced him not to. Both she and Ronal are living proof that it is not hard for pregnant Na'vi to fight and Jake had to remember that Y/n wasn't human and it wouldn't be much of a struggle. Jake only gave in when he saw that same fire in his daughter ignite in his wife's matching eyes. Neytiri was just as determined to fight, if not more. Her husband could see, even with Neteyam gone, that she now had more things worth fighting for.

Even while pregnant, Y/n was still one of the best warriors Jake had on his side. She was still one of the best flyers and best archers, just like her mother. While she wasn't stupid enough to do up close combat in her condition, Y/n still fought her battles from afar, astride her faithful ikran, Evi, and a bow in hand. She flew over every battlefield, whether on land or by sea, her watchful eyes always pinpointing her loved ones out among all the fighting. Y/n tended to fly close to wherever Payakan might be, knowing that Lo'ak would never leave his Spirit Brother vulnerable during the fight. Y/n made sure to always have her little brother's back so that he may protect Payakan, shooting down any sky demon who dared to try killing Lo'ak whenever his back was turned.

Sometimes, depending on where they were on the battlefield, Spider would fly with his sister over the years as the war dragged on. He was a skilled archer as well, and so he often flew with Y/n to scope out dangers from above, since he wasn't entirely capable of fighting for the Na'vi without his own pa'li or tsurak. And if Spider wasn't flying with Y/n, he was flying with Kiri, keeping his best friend safe when she wasn't much of a fighter. Jake was always at peace knowing Kiri would be safe as long as Spider was with her.

Wars came and went, and victories and losses on both sides happened, but Jake believed he got the best victory of all when he got to hold his granddaughter for the first time. Y/n and Ao'nung named her Sìla immediately after she was born instead of waiting to announce it to the rest of the village. They didn't have much of a choice, as the village had been compromised after the latest battle, and unfortunately, everyone needed to evacuate. But after they had all made it to safety, Jake had the honor of being the first to hold Sìla in his arms with the exception of her parents. She was Metkayina, through and through, but even newly born, Jake could see hints of eyebrow hair and an extra finger on each hand, hidden by the infant's clenched fists, physical traits that she no doubt inherited from her mother and her grandfather. Despite forgoing tradition, the clans rejoiced at the first signs of new life in the midst of war.

But Sìla would be the only one born into war. Not long after her birth, her parents and all the other Na'vi managed to eradicate the rest of the Sky People before they could fly back to Earth or call for reinforcements. Again, Jake wasn't taking any chances. With his granddaughter now born, he was just as determined to ensure that the Sky People never returned... for good this time.

With peace finally reaching all corners of Pandora, the Sully family continued to grow. Lo'ak and Tsireya were now expecting a child, and Tuk was now old enough to choose a mate if she so wished. Neither Kiri nor Spider appeared interested in growing families of their own, but Jake was fine with that if that meant he could still have some of his own children to himself. Sìla had only just started to swim and walk on her own when Ao'nung and Y/n announced they were expecting again, and the celebration outweighed the upcoming sadness. Tonowari was heavily wounded in the final battle against the Sky People and was slowly succumbing to his injuries. He had let go and joined Eywa in his sleep after he was told more grandchildren were on the way. Knowing he was at peace, the Metkayina celebrated his life instead of grieving over him, thankful for the legacy he left behind.

Ao'nung was olo'eyktan now, but Y/n had agreed with Ronal that even as his mate, she wouldn't become tsahik. Y/n never wanted that role, even when it was hers for the taking as a child of the Omatikaya. She was not a healer. She was a fighter, so Tsireya would assume that role once Ronal was ready to step down or if she passed away, and Y/n would be known as the clan's olo'eykte. No one questioned the decision, but they were happy for the family's strength in position and legacy, nevertheless.

Speaking of the Omatikaya, Kiri returned to her family's clan after the war and took the role of tsahik at the behest of her dying grandmother. Mo'at was a force to be reckoned with, even in death, so no one questioned her succession, not even Tarsem. Neytiri, Tuk, and Spider also flew back to the Forest with Kiri and stayed until Mo'at had passed. They told her all of their stories as she closed her eyes, smiling as if she were sleeping. She had outlived so many loved ones. She outlived a daughter, a mate, a grandson, and many other friends and family. She had lived long enough to become a great-grandmother, and so when she passed away in her daughter's arms, Neytiri did not cry. Instead, she was incredibly grateful that someone in her life finally managed to live until old age.

When Kiri assumed the role of tsahik, Neytiri decided to stay. She had been separated from her clan for far too long, and she belonged in the forest. She was finally ready to come home. Spider also stayed with the Omatikaya and actually became a teacher for the children of the Na'vi. Grace Augustine's legacy lived on not only through her daughter but through Norm, Max, and all remaining humans who lived on Pandora. Above all, her legacy lived on through a boy who didn't even know her but grew up wanting to teach the Na'vi all that he learned living in two different worlds, worlds that Grace had wanted to share with the children when she was alive.

Tuk decided not to stay with the Omatikaya but didn't travel back to Awa'atlu alone. With the war now over, plenty of clans wished to mix and mingle with one another. So when Tuk returned to the Metkayina, she brought back not only her childhood friend Popiti but at least a dozen Omatikaya warriors who wished to learn the ways of their reef brothers and sisters.

Ao'nung and Tsireya -Ronal had stepped down from tsahik while Tuk was away- gladly welcomed the Omatikaya and Jake watched as Lo'ak and Y/n reunited with old friends and new faces from their mother's village. Even though he wanted to catch up with the warriors from his clan, he didn't want to wait any longer himself. Toruk Makto was anxious to join his wife, daughter, and son back in the Forest, but he wanted to stay long enough to ensure the children who would remain with the Metkayina would be in good hands. Even if they were no longer children, he couldn't help it. He was still their father and even though not all children stay close to their parents, he still wanted to be sure they were loved and cared for before he had to leave them.

Jake found it difficult to regret missing out on so much of his children's lives because of the war, knowing that he would do it all over again if it meant they would get the chance to have a future. He was content knowing that he fought a war so his children would never have to in the future. Instead, they'll get to live their lives and raise their children without the fear of leaving them behind to fight, or worse, lose a child to war as Jake and Neytiri did.

Neteyam was on his father's mind now more than ever, especially as Jake held his first grandson in his arms. He had waited to leave Awa'atlu until after Y/n had given birth again, now honored to meet the first boy in the family's next generation. So far, Lo'ak and Y/n's respective families have only had two girls between them, so the village rejoiced at the birth of the olo'eyktan's first son. Y/n named the baby boy Nokteyam and the meaning behind that name wasn't lost on anyone, especially not on Jake. Tears welled up in his eyes while staring down at Nokteyam, sleeping peacefully in his grandfather's arms. He didn't have a single physical human trait and strangely, he didn't inherit any Metkayina features either. Nokteyam looked exactly like a forest child with all the correct Na'vi fingers, toes, and tail. It only made Jake's heart clench even tighter when he realized Nokteyam looked like his own firstborn son.

When Jake had asked, Y/n firmly stated that she would not be calling her son 'Teyam as a nickname. She claimed she wanted to honor her dead brother's name, not haunt her son by it. No, Y/n named her son Nokteyam but called him Nok for short, so that he'd grow up with his own identity and not the ghost of his uncle's, a young man whom he never had the pleasure of meeting.

Sìla wasn't happy at the idea of being a big sister, mainly because she was barely old enough to grasp the idea of it. But throughout the first week of Nok being in this world, she grew to love her little brother and positively beamed whenever someone told her she was the best big sister. Once Y/n and Ao'nung had settled into the life of parenting a toddler and a newborn, Jake flew back to the Forest, his heart heavy to leave three of his children behind, but was also excited to reunite with his wife and his two adoptive children, along with the Omatikaya.

The Sullys have been divided, but that didn't mean they weren't sticking together. Lo'ak, Y/n, and Tuk were closer than ever, living among the Metkayina, while Jake, Neytiri, Kiri, and Spider worked together to oversee the future of the Omatikaya. Not one Sully was left alone, and that gave Jake some comfort. They all kept in touch and often flew to each other's villages when given the chance. During one of these visits, Y/n told her parents that she was pregnant again, but when she eventually gave birth, neither Jake nor Neytiri was with her this time, oceans away and unaware that they were grandparents again.

Instead of having the three children they agreed upon, Y/n and Ao'nung end up having four, because the third child turned out to be twins. Having twins was inevitable as it had never skipped a generation. First, it was Jake and Tommy, then Neteyam and Y/n... now it was Tawnu and Nangi, both boys and both sporting a healthy mixture of human, forest, and reef features.

Despite having more children than she initially wanted, Y/n could not be happier. However, she was slightly terrified of the idea of having the same amount of children her parents did before losing Neteyam and adopting Spider. What if she made the same mistakes her sa'sem did? This is what she was trying to avoid when she first told Ao'nung she only wanted two babies, worried that she might accidentally favor one child over another, or worse put too much burden and responsibility on one of their shoulders. Ao'nung wasn't worried, however, vocally adamant that his wife was strong and she always learned from her mother and father's mistakes. She was already the best mother in the world just by worrying she'd mess up. The Na'vi only ever want what's best for their children, and Y/n and Ao'nung were no exceptions.

From the beginning, they had both agreed to expose the children to forest and reef life, both mother and father teaching the next generation what they had been taught in their separate, respective clans. While Ao'nung worried about teaching the children to swim from infancy, Y/n made sure her children knew what it felt like to fly.

It was one of her favorite activities to spend time with her children. Only risking to take them one at a time, Y/n would strap one baby to her chest and take her ikran out for a long flight around the island. She did this with all of her children, but never all at once.

Ao'nung also loved when Y/n took one of their children to the skies, but not for the same reason. He enjoyed spending quality time with the remaining three children while his wife was away with the fourth. Like his father before him, Ao'nung was a great and mighty leader, often intimidating by size alone. But to his children, he spoke soft and gently, never raising his voice unless it was to be heard.

The olo'eyktan found himself sitting on the beach, his legs stretched out in the sand with Nangi sitting between them. The baby, only old enough to sit up and nothing else, was playing, in awe of the sand and shells his father provided for him to inspect. Meanwhile, Ao'nung was keeping a watchful eye on Sìla and Nok as they chased one another into the water, never going any deeper than above their waists. Their laughs and squeals of joy can be heard echoing in the winds as they travel through Awa'atlu. Despite the high pitch, it was a peaceful sound and one of Ao'nung's favorites that he liked to replay in his head. He tried to retain as many good memories as possible, still occasionally caught up in the bad ones. While he loved his children always asking him questions, it was always hard to answer why he had a large, wide scar on his right leg.

It was hard enough that Ao'nung barely remembered what happened himself. It happened early on in the war against the Sky People. Lo'ak, younger at the time, told Ao'nung when he woke up from the battle that a sky demon had emptied an assault rifle into his leg. Ao'nung had lost a lot of blood, and at the time, there were Ronal, Kiri, and Mo'at all hard at work, trying to keep him alive and save his leg. Ao'nung couldn't remember the pain or the event leading up to getting injured, but he remembered being in and out of consciousness throughout the whole ordeal, and the faint memory of Y/n screaming and crying his name still haunts him to this day. Y/n, who was heavily pregnant with Sìla at the time, was bargaining with Eywa, pleading for the Great Mother to spare the father of her unborn child and how she didn't deserve to lose anyone else she loved. Whether it was the tag team of tsahiks or Y/n's prayers, Ao'nung had miraculously survived, and he had fully healed just in time to be there for his mate when she went into labor.

Ao'nung tries to remember the birth of his first and only daughter over the memory of his injury, and sometimes he prefers telling Sìla the story of her birth over the time he nearly died. He doesn't mind the scars, but the memories behind them are terrifying. His children make them better -they make everything better- by admiring the scars and talking about how brave their father is. They like the scars. Like the songcord, scars tell the children of Na'vi a story, and it makes Ao'nung filled with pride.

His thoughts are interrupted by the familiar screech of an ikran. Looking up with a smile, he sees Evi, the light blue banshee with gold lightning running up her figure, flying up ahead. Life is a little funny and ironic as Ao'nung fondly thinks. 'Funny that the first time he ever met Evi, she was nearly ready to eat him, and ironic how her rider would someday become his mate. Whenever he told that story to his children, they had yet to believe him.

The chief of the Metkayina doesn't get up from the sand and watches the ikran circle him before promptly landing on the sand a couple of yards away. Only then when the banshee landed did Sìla and Nok notice the beast as well and squealed with excitement, running over to Evi like she was a long-lost family pet. Ao'nung fondly smiled as he watched the ikran rider dismount and cling tightly to the bundle strapped against her chest. Y/n now stood as tall as her mother used to be, still sporting the braided hair and beads, but now wore clothing more appropriate for a leading member of the Metkayina. Like Ao'nung, she was nearly covered in tattoos, other than her chin where the tsahik symbol would've been if she hadn't let Tsireya take on the role. Otherwise, most of Y/n's tattoos symbolized a warrior and a high-standing figure among the villagers; as their olo'eykte. Ao'nung still felt pride whenever he saw the akula tooth carved to look like an arrowhead, resting just above his mate's heart and now woven into her chest piece.

Y/n had bent down to gather Sìla and Nok in her arms when they ran up to greet her but was careful not to squish the baby still sleeping at her breast. Standing up, Y/n carefully adjusted Tawnu to rest comfortably against her collar before she grabbed Sìla and Nok's hands, walking with them along the beach, heading in the direction of the olo'eyktan and Little Nangi.

When they were close enough, Ao'nung called out, "Did Evi get to stretch her wings?"

Y/n smiles with a shrug, "Enough to last the old girl another week before she insists I take her again."

The Na'vi woman sits down beside Ao'nung in the sand, leaning heavily against his side, knowing that he'd gladly take her weight, his arm sliding around her waist to hold her close. Ao'nung paid no attention to Y/n's tail loosely wrapping around his own waist and instead busied himself with trading twins, setting Nangi down on Y/n's lap before helping Y/n with taking Tawnu out of his sling. Ao'nung lets Tawnu continue sleeping in the crook of his other arm while Y/n gathers Nangi in hers, cooing to the baby boy and making him laugh when she riddled his little chubby face with kisses.

Once the parents were settled, Sìla took this opportunity of happiness to plead with big, blue eyes and a pouty lip, wrapping her little arms around Y/n's, "Can I go again, Mama?"

Evi squawks in the background, likely offended that she's now the family's show pony in her old age, while Y/n smiles sweetly and leans her forehead into her daughter's, "You have to wait your turn, ma'txe'lan. It will be Nangi's turn next time, then I promise I will take you."

Sìla whined but otherwise didn't complain, distracted by Nok when he pinched her and ran off. The chief's daughter runs after him, vowing for revenge in their own twisted game of tag while their parents watch on in adoration.

Ao'nung briefly looks up to the sky, "The winds are getting warmer. The tulkun should be returning soon."

"Hm," Y/n replies while looking down at Nangi. Apparently, he had followed in his twin's footsteps and fell asleep, "I'm sure they will be very happy to meet the twins for the first time."

"I will be very happy to introduce them to my Spirit Brother," Ao'nung turns his head to his wife, "When do you think Sìla can meet your brother?"

Y/n's resulting smile was soft and kind, but Ao'nung knew better than anyone the level of sadness behind it. Even as she had aged and small wrinkles had started to form around her lips, she still looked like the young girl who had lost her other half as if it was only yesterday. She looks off over the waves and out into the vast ocean, thinking back to all the times she had visited the Spirit Tree over the years. As promised, she only visited Neteyam on special occasions. She visited when each of their siblings finished their Iknimaya or when Lo'ak and Tsireya were officially betrothed, when the Na'vi had won the war, and when Y/n found out each time she was pregnant. She had started to visit less and less, far too busy as a wife and a mother, just as Neteyam had hoped for, but she'll still go to see him when her children go through big and meaningful milestones, always excited to share them with her twin brother.

The children have yet to learn about Neteyam, their parents believing they are still far too young. Nok knows his name stems from someone important to his mama, but that is the extent of his knowledge. Soon, however, Sìla will be old enough to knowingly connect to the Spirit Tree all by herself, unlike her first communion with Eywa. When that time comes, Ao'nung and Y/n will sit her down and tell her the story of her Uncle Neteyam.

It will break Y/n's heart when Sìla asks if they meant Uncle Lo'ak or Spider, but Y/n will correct her daughter and tell her that she actually has a third uncle. Both her mother and father will tell Sìla stories of a young boy she had never met, a boy who never got to grow up alongside his friends and siblings... A boy who loved his family deeply and would have loved Sìla and her brothers even more, he would've hung the world for them if he were still alive.

Y/n's heart will always ache to know that Neteyam was robbed of being someone's husband and father, whoever those poor souls might have been. Her heart ached to know he would never get to be olo'eyktan of the Omatikaya or meet each and every one of his nieces and nephews until they were all old enough to go to him themselves. However, her heart has been healing for some time instead of breaking, and like Neteyam said she would, Y/n has managed to balance her sadness with her happiness, missing her brother just as much as she loved her mate and her kids.

She leans further into Ao'nung's shoulder, watching two of her children play in the water while the remaining two slept safely in their parents' arms, "Soon."

Her husband hums quietly, turning his head until it's half buried in her hair, whispering his response in a kiss he placed on the top of her head, "Nga yawne lu oer, Forest Girl."

"Nga yawne lu oer, Seaweed Brain."

Sìla: derived from "hope"

Nokteyam: Nok (a man's name in Na'vi) and Neteyam "not the end"

Tawnu: derived from "sky"

Nangi: derived from "surprise"

Even though I'm finishing up this series, I think I still want to write about it. I plan on writing about missing scenes that weren't initially written in the series, like Ao'nung's injury and in-depth reactions to Y/n's pregnancies. So stay tuned for that! If you have a request for me to write about a certain topic for this series, please don't be afraid to ask! (I'm also not opposed to writing 'what-if' scenarios like "what if Neteyam survived and watched his twin sister's family grow?")

Thanks again everyone!

[bbkissme99]

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all the small things - g.t.

Dragon weeks

Scream it why don't you

His girl

ძᥲ𝗍іᥒg gᥲrrіᥴk 𝗍ᥲ᥎іs

sᥒᥙggᥣᥱ ᑲᥙg

We're in this together

something smutty for garrick

some smut with garrick

ძ᥆mіᥒᥲᥒ𝗍

Garrick Tavis Head Cannons

Cupid

Just One Date

all the small things - g.t.

Is That Blood? - Garrick Tavis

Black Dahlia Masterlist

The Lost Sister Masterlist (completed series)

Drown in Me

Bodhi x reader

Interruptions

ძᥲ𝗍іᥒg ᑲ᥆ძһі ძᥙrrᥲᥒ

Worries

Not giving up on us

by your side - b.d.

Five More Minutes |

Angel eyes

where were you in the morning? - b.d.

Stay Still | B. Durran |

Love Letters

Breaks and Bruises

Between Battles and Breaths

Shit at Feelings iv

intimacy alphabet - b.d.

Until the end and beyond //

Breaking Point

Worst Kept Secret

Priority

Dain x reader

ᥴᥲᥙgһ𝗍 іᥒ 𝗍һᥱ ᥲᥴ𝗍

Ridoc x Reader

not joking

Dress

Brennan x Reader

Brennan Sorrengail Cuddle Head Canons

Bruises

Can We Not

Didn’t go as planned

an unexpected visitor

Secret Relationship

FORGED UNDER FIRE

TOG

Aelin x Rowan

Detours to You - Masterlist

Dorian x reader

Dating Dorian Havilliard would include-

dating modern!dorian would include…

Pairings: Professor!Lorcan x f!student!reader

Crescent City

Ruhn Danaan x Reader

Dating Ruhn Danaan Headcanons

Like I Do

Family Time

Acotar

Masterlist

Eris

Peace Summary: A look into a normal day in the new Vanserra household

One Last Night

𝐸𝓇𝒾𝓈 𝑀𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉

Juice Stains : A day alone with the babe. What could go wrong?

You aren’t fully comfortable with your post baby body and Eris is not having it.

𝐦𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐝𝐨𝐦, 𝐦𝐲 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐞n: Eris x rhysand daughter reader where they're mates, but in a secret relationship

vanserra males headcanons

Solace

This is a small Eris Vanserra x Reader snippet. You and Eris are in his study.

Nyx

Of Wings and Secrecy

Don't Touch // Nyx (ACoTaR) x Fem!Reader

ambushes and invitations

misplaced chivalry 

Power Over Me

When Night Bloomed

☽ cold starlights

KINGDOM OF THE FEARED SPOILERS!! Barnes and Noble bonus chapter pt. 1

Darkling x Reader

YOU ARE MY SUNSHINE

[sturnschris]

what do smart!gg!reader’s parents think of chris?

they love him! At first they were suspicious obviously but in the end they love their daughter regardless of being so strict they care about their daughter and they saw she rlly loves him and he loves her so they like him.

(They dont know abt the sex tho..)

def ask more i love answering them also sorry for being gone this long i am sooo busy but back (also writing a fic/blur at the parents house currently soooo)

[dreamland-library]

Moodboards masterlist

This is my graveyard for the moodboards I will not write about… no, I will not… well… maybe…

• Moodboards masterlist #2 • Main Masterlist •

Adrian Chase

Vigilante (Adrian Chace x Kryptonian!Reader)

Aemond Targaryen

The Bastard Princess (Aemond Targaryen x Daemon’s daughter!Reader)

Phantom of the Opera AU (Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon (Strong)!Reader)

Aleksander Morozova

see moodboard masterlist #2

Alfie Solomons

see moodboard masterlist #2

Bane

Stolen - Bane x warlord’s daughter!Reader

Bane x mayor!Reader (LP version)

Bane x mayor!Reader (GG version)

Catwoman - Bane x Fox!Reader 

Catwoman - Bane x Fox!Reader (Joker version)

Heist AU- thief!Bane x hacker!Reader

Billy Russo

see moodboard masterlist #2

Bishop Losa

Zombie Apocalypse AU

Boba Fett

Stargate AU - goa'uld!Boba x SG team member / tok'ra!Reader inspired by this?

Professor AU

Supernatural AU - hunter!Boba Fett x Reader (hunter!Fennec Shand)

RED AU - ex CIA agent!Boba x CIA agent!Reader

Brother Day

Day & Night

Bucky Barnes

Neverland AU - Captain James “Hook”!Bucky x Tigerlily!Reader x “Crocodile”!Namor

Caspian

Caspian x witch!reader

Daemon Targaryen

The dragon has three heads - Daemyra x Targaryen!Reader

The Pirate Queen AU - pirate!Daemon Targaryen x Pirate Queen Rhaenys’ daughter!Reader

Eddie Brock/Venom

The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo AU - Eddie Brock x hacker!Reader inspired by @fabuloustomhardy’s edit

Eddie Munson

Three - Eddie Munson x powered!Reader

The Banished - fox fae!Eddie Munson x Reader

Eddie Munson x dark genie!Reader inspired by @harrywavycurly’s not genie

Éomer

Immortality/The choice - Éomer x Reader x Haldir

Feyd-Rautha

Fae AU - dark fae!Feyd-Rautha x light fae Atreides!Reader

Dream of a lifetime - Feyd x Atreides!Reader

Feyd-Rautha x Earthling!Reader

Haldir

Immortality/The choice - Éomer x Reader x Haldir

Jake “Hangman” Seresin

Star Wars AU - Rebel pilot!Jake Seresin x Ren!Reader

Pen Pals

The Proposal AU - Jake Seresin x doctor!Reader

Epic(ish) AU - fae!Jake Seresin x Reader

James Delaney

James Delaney x blind!Reader

Biker AU

Maliksi

The Other Trese - Maliksi x Alexandra’s twin!Reader

Namor

Alliance - Namor x Killmonger’s cousin!Reader

Neverland AU - Captain James “Hook”!Bucky x Tigerlily!Reader x “Crocodile”!Namor

Nathan Bateman

Altered Carbon AU

Poe Dameron

The Pink and Blue Ribbon made for @the-little-ewok’s Poe x Reader fic

Robb Stark

The Wolf and the Lion - Robb Stark x Lannister!Reader

Sesshōmaru

Sesshōmaru x cat yōkai!Reader

Tommy Shelby

Men (modern AU) - Tommy Shelby x Reader x Alfie Solomons

What Dreams May Come AU

Treadway

Succession

FIREFLY-GRAPHICS MOODBOARD CHALLENGE

(Billy Russo/Darkling, Bucky Barnes, Sherlock Holmes, Tony Stark, WandaxVision)

500 FOLLOWERS MOODBOARD CHALLENGE

(Daemon Targaryen, Valyrian OCs, Darkling/Aleksander Morozova, Eddie Munson and other Stranger Things characters, Hangman and Coyote, Alfie Solomons, Eames)

[lostfirefly]

WIP

Thank you for the tag @be-not-afraid-gg for Wip-Wednesday. Let it be Wip-Friday :)

Most works do not yet have a title, and the draft may be slightly rewritten.

Welcome under the cut!

Buggy x Reader

Buggy got sick

Reader: Could you please stop whining, Buggy! You're driving me crazy already, otherwise I'll pour soup into your bed

2. Draft name "In the morning - Reader" (another attempt to write nsfw, hehe)

3. Daddy Buggy!

He and the reader have a daughter who brings her boyfriend to the ship to meet her father.

-Why is he holding her hand? -Jesus, Buggy. She's 18! -And what? That doesn't give him the right to hold her hand!

4. Sad Buggy (reader decided to leave him).

I love you, my silly clown, but I want to make you sad :)

5. Buggy is looking for a reader (this idea came to me into the dream, where I was kidnapped and Jeff was looking for me).

6. Reader's birthday!

7. Buggy's birthday

8. Buggy is trying to safe a reader (another dream where Jeff almost asked Avengers to help him. haha)

Buggy Bear x Cathie-pie

The bowling fic (it will be posted soon) - long fic, about 5000 words

Buggy screwed up and Catherine demanded to take her to the bowling club

"What? Afraid I’ll ruin you? You chickened out?" Buggy cackled.  "I never chicken out, you brute. How many points do we play for?” She crossed her arms.

2. After the airport (nsfw)

Catherine decided to stay in Cairo because she understood that she fell in love with Buggy. Now you will see what I see in my head after chapter 10 of my original Egyptian series :) First sex, Buggy is confused and overthinking.

"Oh fuck!" Catherine quickly pulled out some tissues and wiped her mouth. She wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head against his chest. "My silly clown."  "I'm listening, my Cathie-pie." Buggy placed his chin on the top of her head.  "Take me home, please."

3. After the prison (fun).

Catherine takes Buggy, Cabaji and Mohji from the prison they ended up in after drinking and forces all three of them to clean their apartment.

"In my defense, I stole the cake for you, baby." He chuckled. “But this nice lady took it away.” He nodded towards the officer.  “Oh, thank you! You stole the fucking cake for me. You are so caring! Should this make me feel better, idiot?” 

4. Catherine is sad, because today is her parents' death anniversary (angst + fluff).

Buggy decided to stay with her to cheer her up

"Do you regret anything in life? For example, that you once didn’t leave one red-haired girl in the desert and in the end she stayed with you?" “No, I don’t regret this at all.” Buggy was silent for about five minutes, stroking her back. "Swimming." 

5. Catherine will help him with makeup (pure fluff and fun).

Catherine happily bounced her feet, squealed softly, and dipped the brush into the powder. Sticking out her tongue, she ran the brush over his face with concentration.  "That's it... Yes? Look!"  "Oh my god!" Buggy looked at himself in the mirror and saw his face covered in a thick layer of white powder. "What is it? Cotton candy, let me ask you, how old were you when you were wearing makeup?" 

6. One day or another he is gonna ask her the main question (this fic was written a long time ago). After the story with Larnie our blue-haired boy put this idea aside.

7. They are gonna meet her aunt (two chapters)

8. And they will also assemble the bed!

9. Buggy b-day

10. Their first date (after nsfw)

11. Catherine will meet Cabaji for the first time

12. Catherine will visit Buggy's show for the first time

There's a good chance we'll celebrate Buggy's birthday twice! With the reader and Catherine.

Also I want to try to write a fic, which was inspired by our text messages with @gingernut1314.

Sanji x Reader (pure fluff) are cooking dinner

No pressure tags: @tiredemomama and @operationroots

[joannasteez]

tanks of blood (3)- a funeral, and the second coming back

pairing: biker!roman reigns x black reader (mentions), biker!cody rhodes x black reader (mentions) warning: descriptions of alcohol. some talks about death and funerals (not negatively). cursing. roman being a dick smh. authors note: intro-ing more characters. some funny parts and not so funny parts. this chapter, as you will see, has a few different perspectives. i thought it would be nice to learn some of the fic lore from other pov’s. this chapter takes place in the present time!!!! word count: 6k tagging: @333creolelady @harmshake @theninthwonder @thesamoanqueen @kill-the-artiste @empressdede @spritelucozade @gg-trini (if anyone else wants a tag for this story let me know!)

dean was not an inheritor of his leather. he had no familial ties to such greatly established pensacola street bloodlines. but he was scrappy and clever and loyal. he loved fixing things. making a hard work of his hands till the satisfaction of a job well done had no choice but to bleed from between the slight cracks of skin. and he didn't need second or third generation leather, or a bike gifted to him on his eighteenth birthday, and then again on his twenty first—because bikers could be showy motherfuckers—he just wanted something to call his own. a beautiful sum of meek ambition. a tangible manifestation of earned freedom. and kendrick greggs—God rest his soul—had given it to him. all those years ago, when the roar of engines were still new and ear splitting, KG—as everyone called him—let dean's desires run wild. and then when those too humble desires became ill-suited, KG threw a prospect kutte at dean, with a stare that dared him to succeed. and here dean found family. absolute community. no blood relations needed. 

dean remembers the grit of his early bloodline days well, but it is the existence of such a fond remembrance from which his annoyance is born. he hates the easy slip into reminiscence. that ache so naturally tethered to the joy of it all. it was always just too much of everything. but funerals make him nostalgic. with each one, comes that reminder. he's getting older. 

and maybe that's why anger doesn't move in him. doesn't stifle the surprise rife in his blood or the stinging in his eyes. emotion threatening to well over, and then its—fuck—it's brimming and washing hot in his cheeks. its just that thing. and of course when the whole abrupt ordeal of you leaving came about, he, in a bout of rather rare sensitivity, worked his sadness to a favorable subtlety. because you weren't his but you were still like family. you were KG's blood so, yeah, there was no halfway to think about it. you were family. and it's just that thing, that comes with much time and much distance, and then finally and so suddenly theres that breaking of the space between, where such time and distance is forgotten, and all there is left, are the things waiting to be picked up again. a taking in and a holding, as if such things had never been let go in the first place. 

just outside a small pensacola church, dean pulls lazily from his cigarette. seth—and he knows its seth by the leisure thudding step of his heel toe—approaching with a cigarette of his own. the both of them watching interestedly, as you brush harsh against cody to pass him. with the air of someone amidst a lovers quarrel. the remnants of a disagreement sticking to the rushed way you make your way up to the church. 

seth snickers. "you think they're fuckin'?

"if they're not already, then he probably wants to", dean assess. mirth slipping over his lips as he takes another much needed drag. and honestly, cody wasn't to blame for such a desire if dean's thinking was as spot on as he knew it to be. it was a small, not fully established joke of sorts after all, that at one point or another, most third generation bloodline members thought about KG's daughter in not so platonic ways. the one forbidden fruit amongst a plethora of other things to freely choose from in the garden. but it only happened maybe once or twice, before the realization set in that you just weren't to be seen that way. or at most, if such thoughts occurred, it was better to let them stay exactly as they were. as thoughts with no tangible form to see to its flourishing. 

"cody is dusty's son. he'll go the gentleman route and slow burn it", seth's cigarette falling to its end as its met with the tip of his shoe. 

dean does the same. making a dramatic show of peering over his shades before his leather clad arms open up to encourage an embrace. "this ain't a mirage is it?" 

you laugh. and as your face caves softly into dean's chest he can feel the lightness of it pulsing into him. a laugh filling itself with relief as you slip your arms to tighten the embrace. "no dean". 

you slip away to embrace seth. the three of you bright with smiles despite the adornment of mournful colors and eye-guarding shades. and dean can feel the fast to creep up nostalgia. the clever way it goes about softly sweetening his blood. 

"good", dean starts. unfailing in the not so subtle way he takes you in. everything about you different but the same. new but old. "thought i was hallucinating. between the leather and the weather, i'm due for a heat stroke soon".

"fuck tradition". a short thoughtless quip. your fingers tugging his leather. "take off the jacket".

seth bristles. the offense a detailed etch along his face. "fuck tradition?! you went up north and got fucking screws loose. one of the originals is dead in a box, we gotta represent". 

and seth was right. tradition was tradition, and dean wasn't going to forsake his leather because he felt a little uncomfortable. come to think of it, it wasn't so hot—it absolutely was hot— that he needed to have loose lips with complaining about. 

your eyes roll. smiling still. "m'not nursing you when you collapse". 

"anyways", a drip of mischief steeping in. deans arm hugging your shoulder into his side. "in the spirit of reunion, do i have permission to indulge in some thoughts and opinions?" 

"i too would like to indulge". seth adds. grinning. 

your head shakes in what dean knows to be a small gathering together of patience. "are said thoughts and opinions messy and reductive". 

"...yes...maybe...", dean looking to seth for a quick temperature check of just how unruly their curiosities could be. "...i don't know". 

you sigh. "go ahead". dean feeling the ever so slight tense up in your shoulders. because loads of time had past, since the last time any of the guys had seen you. and everyone would have their own little questions and curiosities. it was impossible to hide everything forever anyways. they were all as nosy as they were rowdy and dean only knew this because he was one of them, one of the guys. 

seth breaks the tension. "you and cody?"

and you move quick. slipping from under deans arm. "absolutely not", trying to make it up the rest of the church steps. 

"ohhh no no no no no", the guys giggling like children. dean bringing you back into his side. "absolutely yes". 

"there's nothing going on-".

"because if so, it'd be cool y'know?", looking to seth for some teasing validation. "juggling both. some real TLC harem shit". 

and the mixed deadpan-grimace you take is beautiful. fulfills the void of all that long standing separation thats been existent till now. it's like you'd never left. everything feeling good and whole. 

"actually", seth adds. "i was reading, as most intelligent people do, and came up on this article about the fall of the postmodern monogamist nuclear family and the rise of polygamy... so yeah", seth feeling big in his little drop of whatever knowledge he thought that was. "nows the time for all that lovin you got sweetheart". 

and God maybe you should've came home sooner. dean laughing in the most ironic of ways. a good from the belly sort of laugh he hasn't done in a while. 

"you read?", he asks seth. words semi-genuine. 

"first of all", seth immediately brimming vexed. "i'm well read and why do you do this? i try to flex a little intellectual prowess and you shit on it". 

"ain't enough prowess in that mustard-fucking-seed brain thats worth an eighth of my shit". 

seth scoffs. "oh cause your shits just so damn prestigious". 

"thats right. premium shit. ask your mother". 

"if i gotta ask then maybe it ain't that good brother".

dean toughs a chuckle. "anyways...", feeling loss of touch again and then he's pulling you back to stand between him and seth for more questioning.  "...back to you". 

your attention switching between dean and seth. words trying their damnedest to sound sure. "there is no me and cody. i do not want or care to have roman again. drop this please". 

and deans never heard such a hard attempt at self-persuasion. 

"for now", seth relents. "but it is good to see you. very good. i been gettin bored lately". 

"a telenovela couldn't produce this much fuckin' mess, i'll tell you that much...but", dean pivots. throwing his hands up to surrender when your own hand swats his way. "...but...i agree. very happy to see you". 

and the softening you take to isn't something dean has seen for quite awhile. this more than mild reversion, a silent change of language where your arms cross and cover over in what he thinks is an anxious grasping at safety. the degree of it showcasing a vulnerability that maybe once upon a time you wouldn't have dared let be so exposed. 

"i'm hoping thats the general consensus", you let out.

seth hums short. sparing dean a glance through the tint of his shades. "one very big possible margin of error". 

"maybe even two", dean adds. aware of the context. 

"oh?", you give. 

but before any true indulgence of your flight or fight, dean pulls you along up the church stairs. "you'll see. we'll walk you in". 

your fingers squeeze over the thick set of his. thumb running in what feels like an aimless go at his skin. an attempt at quelling whatever anxieties threaten to fully undo you. dean squeezes back and slows the wide fast pace he's used to taking. 

"me being here though, whats the temperature on that? ya'll aren't...."

"mad? no", dean settles. "you left. you’re back home. its all good". 

you nod. matching now the width of their steps with a little more confidence. 

"then again", seth teases. "we weren't exactly the ones fluffed out and madly in love with you". 

and the fight you give not to smile is a comedy in of itself. that harsh fight against self-persuasion. 

dean snorting. "speak for yourself seth. i was quite literally ready to marry you before i found out you were so goddamn untouchable". 

you swat against dean's arm. a little more speed in your walking to get away from their teasing. "it wasn't like that with him".

"funerals make people delusional. so we'll let you live". 

giana rarely feels threatened, with being the daughter of a silversmith and all, it affords her the luxury of patience. but this doesn't feel good. having to constantly maneuver strangers and their strange, too ancient to understand histories. maneuvering for him and for the willing give of his attention. said attention that lingered elsewhere. and giana doesn't mind the occasional funeral, but she doesn't particularly enjoy–not that its supposed to be a joyous occasion—bloodline funerals. they're busy, rowdy affairs. men covered from head to toe in black, draped in leather, and smelling of too much amber wood and tobacco. all of them too mournful to care about just how wild they could and would eventually be. and most of the women—mothers, sisters, nieces, long standing girlfriends and wives—seemed not to care. filled with too much indifference, so much so that they find delight sometimes in the way their men carry on. and amongst the crowd and energy of the room, giana settles, finally, within herself that it's all too much of everything she doesn't want. something that fails to coax her into a care that persuades her to delve deeper. but still she's patient for him. for roman and this easy, nameless situation she’s settled into with him.

and her oh so diligent thought to check the exits—the guys had penchants for sharp, abrupt turns into violence— leads her to roam into a wild fascination. this major pushing away of the goal post that flares her settled apathy to intrigue. 

because roman's father never smiled so much so that it reached his eyes. and if he has, giana has never seen it. but he's smiling now. thick tinted shades done away with as he holds against the shoulders of a woman giana has never seen before. his hands embracing delicately, adoration sweetening the shine in his eyes as they both smile at one another. his mouth kissing her cheek. 

and never until now has giana cared so much to understand. to want the silent force of such a great man to will itself upon her through adoration. of course she didn't need roman's father to love her, but never has he ever looked at her with more than anything other than something cordial and constrained. a diplomatic smile and head nod of acknowledgement. 

from all corners of the room came upon this woman a full adornment of adoration. grievers making room in their well of emotions. 

and maybe this purity of love is the appeal. the thing which giana has moved so quickly from to avoid. 

but to some odd mixture of dismay and relief, roman stays unmoved. 

roman grew up hearing the stories. fierce, scrappy remember when's and how it came to be's, like lullabies, if such soft tales were more vicious than virtuous. KG—God rest his soul— and his father. thick as thieves, his mother would tell him. the great street men of pensacola who birthed the bloodline. rubber against the heat of asphalt and a less than holy roar of harley davidson engines. and where ever they stepped the recognition followed. a bountiful hand off of respect, often wordless but pure in its spirit. it was something awe inspiring. a dream that seemed to roman to be more sure fated than not. because if his father was the king, than surely there would be a time of a great succeeding. the president's patch promised to the prince since his own making. and even from young, roman could feel it, see it. the coming into fruition of a future that was more fate than dream. and the grime of it just came so natural. the style and the dirty flare. how could it all not be his? 

but with age came other things. other little complexities. off the road ambitions that lent themselves to less harsh, more ardent affairs. because KG didn't have sons. KG had a daughter. and the same feelings of promise he felt towards his father's legacy, he felt towards her. towards you. and here came a natural drawing in to one another, that grew steadily in it's own time. his commitment to childishness at fourteen and fifteen, turning on its head at sixteen. and soon all the stupid, petulant things didn't matter so much anymore, because all that mattered was the sweetening of your voice in his ears. persuasive and goading to his seventeen year old senses. and then came eighteen, nineteen and twenty. a man—because who would tell him he wasn't—with his own mind, his own way and his own bike, pensacola a playground made by his father for all his delights. races and bars and late night rides. KG's amused knowing stare and the heavy disapproval of your mother. by twenty one, you were his without ever having to say it. 

lingering stares and touches, turning more sure by the second, till they became heavy and unmovable. a stain. 

and that staining proved to be permanent. a deep etching that preserved itself in time. beyond the distance even. a hardening in his bones and over his heart till the beautiful youthful heat of it turned cold and grey. 

a fettering he had started so long ago, unable to be released. and he sees that now, amongst this great show of love as people surround you to greet adoringly, that all this work to undo you, was just a lousy attempt at forgetting. 

and that shit is vexing. filters the mourning in his spirit till all thats there is this silent flaring. anger. because how audacious were you really? to show your face after so many years? after breaking him so easily? your eyes uncovered and beautiful still, and your lips smiling, hugging his father. acting oh so humble. 

romans jaw shifts. clenches hard before release. his eyes taken by a slight narrowing stare that only fixes itself at the meeting of it with his fathers. the joy in him battling against the irritation rife in romans bones. and it all feels so shitty and rotten. a heavy disturbance in his belly. he needs a drink or two even. something strong. an agent of forgetfulness, of numbing. 

and of course with every bloodline funeral there is the draping over of a gray sky. moody and still and blanketing. the swell of bodies in the church filing out as the mourning family took to cars and the guys slowly step towards a heinously long row of motorcycles. but who would they be if the procession were not this heavy, dirty, roaring clash of engines along the streets. the show of it, the noise and the leather and the all black, it was just their way. tradition. something that—and even if it exhausted him—roman would hold to forever. because there was nothing else to know or live for aside from this. a life always dreamed of. and he'd honor it till he couldn't anymore. when others were carrying him in a casket to the cemetery. 

roman takes his time getting to his dyna. surveying the buzz of energy. shades masking his eyes now as he watches jimmy, jey and naomi surround you almost covetously. his jaw clenching again. mounting with irritation. wanting that hard drink more by the second. 

and he can smell the sweetness of giana's perfume. a wafting at his side, becoming closer and closer, that oddly eases the tension in his shoulders. and she, amongst everyone else, is none the wiser to such minute details. the deep understandings of such intertwined and complex histories totally evading her. roman figures now, with the way his vexation wells steadily, that she's better for it. saving him even from the not so efficient procedure of having to explain. because that in itself was a task with more surgical leaning qualities. he'd have to actually open himself up to the vulnerabilities of past circumstance. an in depth overview of just how deeply you'd severed yourself from him. and that, he absolutely wanted to avoid at all cost. even the possibility of it made his stomach drop. 

a whiskey neat. yeah that would straighten him good. 

"who is she?"

the curiosity, he finds odd. because giana was always so quick to maintain that she didn't care much for the inner workings of "whatever you got going on", as she'd say. but now the interest was written about her face clearly. and it was everything that roman did not want. he didn't want roundtable talks, twenty one questions and all about me discussions explaining the intricacies of past lives. he wanted the nameless, shapeless situation they'd always maintained. why the hell was she so curious now?

he turns to her. "be specific. we're at a funeral", clenching his jaw. and if not for the thick of his beard, she'd recognize it as such an obvious tell of his annoyance. 

her head nods in your direction. "the woman your father seems to have so much love for". 

"funerals make him sentimental. he can't help himself". 

"if eye-fuckin her is all sentiment then neither can you". 

roman unfolds the legs of his shades and rests them on cooly. this smooth slipping on of a cover to mask the surprise threatening to shine in his eyes. because to him, that poor heavy build of displeasure felt all palpable. this absolute etching into his face that could be readable to anyone who cared enough to look. but maybe his irritations then didnt appear as whole as they felt to him. he has yet to master the stoicism of his father, the same father who now has so suddenly forsaken his stoic disposition for absolute adoration. bringing on an obvious shift to the spirit of the day. really didnt need whatever giana was attempting to muster up. 

he needs a drink. badly wants it actually. 

"whatever you think it is, its not". releasing the neat knot in his hair as he palms his bike helmet. avoiding the bare over of giana's eyes. a patient burn in of brown he can feel in his skin. "shes a good friend of the family".

"ohhh", a sarcastic draw out. gianas arms folding over. "well if shes a good friend, then i got no choice but to play nice".

and roman cant help the snort that leaves him. the giana he met months ago, suddenly so different now. "stick to what you know gi. playin brazen ain't your game". 

the sweet jasmine of her perfume overtaking the rainy scent of such an oddly mournful afternoon. easing further into him till her hands are holding his cheeks. thumbs running over freckles. a show of intimacy that neither satisfies or disappoints him. and maybe thats worse than feeling either of the extremes. 

her lips kissing his. lingering before she releases him. "and playin clueless ain't yours". 

roman mounts his bike. helmet fastening. he starts the engine and like some great call to action, the guys disperse from their little groupings in front the church to make way to their rides. this small army of all black, draped in leather. 

he looks to giana. eyes hidden behind his shades and his face emulating the great impassiveness of his father. "we are what we are", this vague skating around of words. words that affirm the simplicity of their romantic situation. because thats what it is. "we're good". making no effort to look her way as he backs out of his space to lead the procession of bikes.

the first shot of whiskey is to wet his palate. the oh so simple taste of a familiar spiced burning. and the second shot is friendly. doesn't suffer him to grimace or grunt in that faithful way. settling in faster, easier, a fire on his tongue that steeps into his blood. the third take of whiskey warming his belly. a deep restraining. and then comes that odd form of clarity. all the overthought things, less overthought. the diligent fight that once existed, managing that complicated flow, because what were words and thoughts and feelings anyways? if not just the dregs of an already downed beer. useless idle remains. but still that foamy sludge lingered, like a thick film at the top of his drowning patience, refusing to go ignored. his tongue forsaking the whiskey for beer. cold and his palm clutching it for dear life. the heat of his body losing to the icy chill of the bottle. and he's losing everywhere. his presence waning amongst the energy of the clubhouse. 

the guys mingling as they always did. heavy knocking bass from the speakers and the too loud boostings of laughter. whispers and clinking. bottles and shot glasses. the warm brown of creaky hardwood walls and the coarse gray of the floors. the leather couches swishing from the rise and fall of bodies. so many bodies. and the more he attempts to sip his beer while missing the dregs the more it foams over his mustache. the more he sinks into his seat, the louder the room gets. this sharp focus about him that can't be mitigated. the whiskey and the beer working in vicious tandem. whiskey makes him hot. molten lava flowing over with a threatening pace to reign amongst the fright of the people. 

and he can do it if he likes. he can let the remains of him loose and reign amongst the people. forcibly siphon the energy since everything was so damn funny. 

that laughter filling the air, where the joke is too funny. takes the attention too well, till the room has no choice but to yield. the twins were good at doing that. at coveting the attention innocently. and everyone always fell victim to it. it made for good times. for good memories. but that was the problem. 

all this strolling down into remember when's made roman's belly ache. a nagging twist too hot to ignore. 

"and you know the type of guy i am. im approachin ole girl all gentlemanly n'shit. finesse game on damn near a thousand".

whiskey makes roman hot. makes his blood wreathe with what feels like anger. and maybe thats why he doesn't drink the stiffer stuff too much. 

"next thing i know, we back at her's and im in it, like in it. neighbors know my government type shit. and then BOOM the damn front door opens. it's her HUSBAND UCE!", jey grabbing a too-drunk seth's shoulder. 

and roman can feel the damp way his skin grows. leather burdening his shoulders. 

"i swear my lil nineteen year old ass was shook. damn near was peeing on myself hiding in that closet. i ain't know nothing about being the other dude. i was tryna get out of there".

"fuckin' with cougars had ya ass shook, hidin in closets, danglin out of windows and shit, tryna escape", jimmy quips. laughing and sipping at his cup. 

and with every new height of laughter, comes this deeper sinking in of whatever heaviness that's making roman suffer. because it was too much to simply call it anger. anger never consuming him so wholly. 

"but the SAVE uce, the save!", jey's arm throwing around your shoulder till you were tucking under him. hugged into his side. "my sis came in clutch. rolled up quick with that lil cutlass ciera and saved my ass". 

the mirth in your eyes, crinkling at the corners as these little delicate laughs escape you. it makes him fume. the ease you've taken, returning back into the fold so seamless. aided by the love and longing of so many who seem to have forgotten just how shitty it was. a sudden departure. this tearing away that never really mended. like the raw splitting of skin, together again but gruesomely scared. the pain that came with such a nasty tattering felt still. felt when it was quiet and when it rained. when he drank too much whiskey and when the foamy dregs of beer stuck annoyingly to his lips. and then comes this accidental meeting. the linking of your gazes and it stutters the beating in his chest. an arresting that feeds the fire. because how does such power still exist? a potency that makes his stomach lurch. 

your eyes are soft. hesitant. scared. and none of it satisfies him. none of it fixes the wrongness twisting in him. and even when he wins, watching you rip away to look else where, the triumph in victory forsakes him. 

your lips sipping on a drink. something mixed he's sure. because things haven't changed so much that the way you take your alcohol completely evades him. but nothing ever really gets past roman. not much. definitely not cody and his eyes. the small slipping smile of his lips and the linger of his hand on your shoulder. flanking your side like he's been ordered to protect you. but it's not new. cody's always been servile. ready to perform for you. and maybe, just maybe he can't help it. maybe its the history roaming in cody's veins, an inherited drive to see to it that you were ok. the same way dusty did for KG. because dusty was the protector. the slightly older man. KG's slightly older "brother". but cody was different because he lingered. his eyes and his touch. just long enough for roman to notice.

the whiskey making him hot still. not so much his skin anymore—though yes he was a little warm—but the vexing in his blood. and no it was not the agent of forgetfulness he needed it to be. it numbed nothing. mitigated nothing. 

and when you slip away from this reminiscing cluster of laughter and leather, he has all the mind to follow you. because the gall of it all steadily amasses the heat of his anger. that desire to siphon the energy pushing deeper until it begins to solder to his bones. a dense take to his will. because how can you be so comfortable with yourself  in his presence, that such maneuvers have no hesitation? no second guessing? and then to make him watch your fit of smiles with another man. their has to be another word other than hot to describe the blaze in him. the overflow of vexation. but either way cordiality is for the fucking birds. 

roman stands, and with it everything follows. eyes and a swelling anticipation. waning laughter and the slow drift away of mouths telling old memories. 

seth shifts. suddenly more sober than he's been for hours. aggressively clearing his throat to lessen the torture of such an abrupt silence. 

dean just stares. sips from his beer and holds his eyes over roman. and if not for the drowning of whiskey and beer, roman would run rife with appreciation for such a sharp attentiveness. 

and cody. oh cody. never too hard to read. his thumb fidgeting over his knuckles. restless but ready. 

roman crosses the floor, stepping closer till his shoulder checks cody's. a stiff leather against leather. something petulant and liquor inspired. 

the noise of the clubhouse back to its former glory as roman disappears down a long wide hallway. slow measured steps as he feigns for stability. and of course it'd take more whiskey to have him completely stumble, but the additive of the fire in his blood makes things all the more unusual. and this push to seem alright, unaffected, only reinforces the opposite. makes his steps heavy and the pounding in his chest thunder. 

and when he gets to you, the unrelenting need to be vicious overtakes him. nearly threatens him to illness if he fails. and maybe thats just the anger again. the pensacola heat and the whiskey and the hurt. 

the wide hallway is small somehow. feels taken up. by warm subtle perfume smelling of autumn and far away ancient things. hugs and summer morning whispered i love you's. soft eyes and softer fingers. in his hair and over the steady growing muscles of his shoulders. because memories aren't just in words, this tedious coming together of letters and syllables, it's the time of day, scars left by long healed bruises and perfumes. its the old, overwrought beating in his pulse. uneven breaths and shy lingering eyes. and here the rushing back is quick. like whiplash. and the idea that such a thing has to rush back to him, cross over to close such a wide distance, is the source of such deeply rooted anger. 

it is the second coming back of everything lost. 

fuck being cordial.

a framed photo sits in your hand. your thumb brushing over the old wood of it. the wide long hallway filled with doors that lead to small bedrooms and framed photos. because the clubhouse for many, was always like an actual house. a place to stay, to be, when no where else was available. like a home for family. 

you hang it back up, turning to look at another. wistfulness in your eyes. it makes his jaw clench. thick arms folding over his chest. feigning still for stability. 

"s'nothin in here that's changed", you give. a too short olive branch. the pretty shape of your eyes taking to a widely framed photo. you and KG, smiling under the harsh beam of the sun. posing cooly next to his custom harley soft-tail. 

romans heart skips. your voice sinking sweetly to mix among the welling over of his pain turned anger. 

"that's usually what happens when things go untouched".  

and it comes in, as you finally turn to face him, this storming chant. fuck being cordial. fuck it. whiskey inspired and sounding so right. amongst the muffled droning of too drunk bikers and the easy mean speak of his own thoughts, your eyes take him in. a meticulous working over, as if to reaffirm your memory. and he does the same. your body done up in traditional bloodline funeral attire. black boots, black denim, black leather and silver jewelry. your hair so different from the last time he'd seen you but your face the same. everything of your father except your eyes. those being all your mother. eyes that always seemed so close and far away. leaving him doubtful and chasing. always in attempt to settle them. to remedy the faraway look of them with something satisfying. 

back then, all those years ago, he only ever wanted to satisfy you.

being amicable? yeah. no. 

"he talked about you a lot before he passed", he starts. inching closer, step by step, till he's close enough to smell your perfume in full. the same scent you've worn since you were sixteen. nostalgia working to run rife in him, his displeasure working deeper. "little soliloquies n'shit. said he was happy he had you, cause if he had sons, they'd be too much like him. too fixed into everything. too stuck in the life. too loyal". 

the glazing over of your eyes shine under the warm hallway light. lazily going about his face. that drink you'd had filled with whatever before definitely not your first.

"you're saying this because?" voice edged with hesitancy. guarded. 

"i don't know really", his back leaning away to rest against an empty spot on the wall.  "i guess i just realized how wrong he was, and KG was always right about shit but that? very very wrong". his lips smiling malicious. head tilting. "m'sure all that heartbreak and disappointment, getting abandoned. the way it was eating away at him, he wouldn't have gotten that with a son". 

you laugh. something mirthless and corrosive. biting into the air the way it fills up the hallway to taunt him. 

"daddy’s little baby bird couldn't have his chance out the nest", your mouth smiling with teeth. a mean sort of amusement taking your eyes as you meet him. "jealousy never did look good on you. it makes you whiny. needy. like a child, and it's boring", you chuckle. rolling tipsy eyes. "for the first time in a while i'm seeing you and already the argumentative shit is boring me". 

"oh?", his back pushing off the wall. eyes baring down. a mirthless smile slipping in to mirror yours. "did it get a little to real for you? is the ride down memory lane not fun enough anymore?" his breathing deep. brows pulling together and his jaw goes to clench. "yeah... all that nostalgia is a bitch ain't it? just a whole bunch of bullshit sentiment and remember whens". and whether it is the draw of your scent—your presence—or the rushing of his ego he does not know, but the space even in such a wide hallway grows minimal. the whiskey on his tongue washing over just as the tequila on yours does the same. sharing angry breaths. "you got them boys reelin, fallin all over you, all wistful and simpy and shit. what'd you do to cody to make him go all puppy eyed? you fuck him finally?" 

"you should know better than anyone, cause i never needed to fuck you to make you care", and the stinging there is deep. cruel and gut twisting. "yeah no, you got all simpy and shit on your own". 

a few inches closer. if he were inches closer he'd be able to feel your lips. his eyes lingering over them. desire and pain gathering themselves to war. "you got him placeholdin. doing him the same way you did me". 

"the same way you doing her". 

and till now he'd forgotten about giana. her suspicions and her questions. her sudden doing away with of that apathy he found so faithful and easy to enjoy. 

because of you. everything always for him. because of you. 

"he's always been a little soft for you", roman smiling. "but cody is smart. your m.o. ain't hard to pick up".

"i'd love to know what you think that is". 

"i don't even think its something you can help. it's just in you. hereditary shit. just like your moth-"

a breath toughing out. "watch. yourself". 

"you leave. thats what you do. you leave". 

and here there is no triumph in victory either. not when your eyes well, nor when you step away from him to leave the hallway. the twisting in his gut tightens and the whiskey soaking his blood is graceless. makes all the attempts at stability a failure . his back against the wall again. feeling ill and incomplete. 

Oof… that was a-lot lol. roman being a dick unfortunately, but his tune will change eventually. let me know what you think!

[graciegoeskrazy]

Gabi and Matty both got you a Valentine’s Day gift. Matty was at the store getting some cheap chocolates and flowers (just a precursor to the romantic evening he had actually planned for your mother) and was stopped in his tracks when he saw a bouquet with you favorite colors and he thinks to himself ‘Christ, why didn’t I think of getting her something.’ And suddenly takes what was supposed to be a simple grocery stop to another, very serious level.

The couple was sitting on the couch, already awake and waiting for you. You came downstairs like any other morning, honestly not caring or realizing that it was Valentine’s Day. They didn’t give you anything except gentle smiles and a simple ‘good morning’, but when your eyes caught sight of the two bouquets and array and little gifts on the kitchen counter behind them, they smiled and laughed and the shock on your face and the way your jaw fell open.

You immediately ran to the counter and looked at everything they got you. They followed behind.

One was pink and red and had a few of your favorite beauty products scattered around it with a label that read ‘from mama. Happy Valentine’s Day baby girl’ The other has the flowers he picked out complete with chocolates and your favorite candy around it with a card standing next to it labeled ‘from Matty. love you<3’

You didn’t really expect it but that doesn’t mean you didn’t absolutely love it. It was written all over your face. You had only lived with Matty for less than a year. You’ve had many ups and a lot more downs, but you were happy and grateful for how much he loved you and you mom. And his heart did swell when you mumbled ‘first man to ever buy me flowers.’ Into his chest while hugging him.

[feyhunter78]

Hii no pressure and if your requests are closed rn please ignore but i was wondering if you'd write more about elrond x Gil-Galad's daughter? maybe one where she's accident prone and he tends to her since he's a healer or something? thank you for writing so much for him ur keeping me fed with so much content rn 😩😩

My requests are open, don't worry!!!! So this isn't a direct part two, but it references The Princess and the Herald! This was a super cute idea, so it's a short and sweet one for you anon!!! I'll keep writing for Elrond as long as y'all want me to <3

Accident Prone Princess

You were a princess, beautiful, graceful, and poised, expect when you weren’t, which happened to be often. You were a bit accident-prone, frequently getting papercuts or walking much too fast and tripping on the cobblestone walkway.

This often had Elrond worrying over your health and safety. Your poor husband was a gifted healer, and you were his most frequent patient, much to your father’s amusement.

 It brought Gil-Galad a great amount of joy to see how deeply Elrond cared for you, and he also seemed to enjoy sending Elrond running all over the city in search of you. You had a sneaking suspicion your father still hadn’t forgiven your husband for that night he caught you two in the garden.

“My starlight, you must be more careful.” Elrond scolded softly, as he knelt before you, brushing a salve over the scratches on your arm. It tingled pleasantly and had a fresh peppermint scent to it.

Your father had stopped court to have Elrond look over your wounds, and you had to sit beside him, the whole court waiting as your sweet husband fussed over you.

“I was trying to keep up with ada, and there was a rock…” You explained, face burning in embarrassment.

Elrond looked up at you with a fond expression, a smile tugging at his lips. “Perhaps I will carry you to all your appointments, lest you lose a limb on your next errand.”

“You seem awfully concerned for someone who convinced her to have a dalliance with him against a garden wall.” Your father drawled, taking a sip of his wine.

Elrond’s face went bright red. “Again, my king, I do apologize for my lack of propriety that night.”

You shot your father a look and caressed Elrond’s cheek. “Pay him no mind, my love, he is only teasing.”

Elrond looked unconvinced, but proceeded to wrap your arm up gently. “Now this needs to stay covered until the morn, then I will check how it is healing.”

You leaned forward and kissed him chastely, smiling at the shy expression on his face. “Thank you, husband.”

“Yes, thank you, Elrond, now we must continue with the court proceedings.” Your father said, turning back to the gathered nobles, who were talking amongst themselves.

Elrond squeezed your hand then turned to leave, gathering up his supplies.

“Yes, if you all could look at section five in the fourth scroll of law?” You asked, sliding into your heir to the throne persona, your back straightening, voice steady.

Elrond was halfway to the door when your father handed you the scroll.

“As it reads here, all elvenkind must—” You cut yourself off, hissing in pain as the scroll sliced the pad of your pointer finger, crimson blood welling up at the site of the wound.

“Elrond.” Your father called, laughter evident in his tone. “Perhaps you should stay?”

Elrond turned to see you with your finger to your lips and rushed back over, already pulling out gauze. “You may be right, my king.”

You groaned and held your hand out to your husband, ignoring the coos of the nobles, who found you and Elrond’s interactions adorable.

Gil-Galad motioned for another chair to be brought, and Elrond sat beside you, diligently wrapping your finger.

“As I was saying, all elvenkind must do good for the land, it is precious, a gift.” You started again, before throwing a grateful smile at Elrond who sat back and watched you prepare to take your throne.

Tag list: @nyctophilic0vitnir, @elronds-pointy-ears, @elrondscalaquendi, @dilf-superiority, @jesticace

[boiohboii]

Okayy I don’t know if I’ll properly be able to express this but ur new idea is fucking amazing like I read it and I’m in love with it

Genius idea and would love to read it

Also im a little bit of a Neymar hoe so I was wondering what u thought about keeping the same idea but reader and Neymar start liking each other but Messi does not like it cause u know he’s the dad and is overprotective 😞 but Antonella fully supports it

Idk I’m a Neymar hoe and it seemed like a cute idea 💡but im sure whatever u write i will love ❤️

First of all, I am so glad you like the idea and excited about it! It means a lot to me 💖💖

Second of all, we are all Neymar hoes in this house 😌

And finally, I really love your idea! It's so sweet (cause, protective fathers are just *chef's kisses*) I'd love to write it as a one shot if you allow it!

As for it being interpreted into the upcoming series of Messi's daughter who is an idol, I don't think I'll be able to do that cause the OC is born in 2004 which will make her 18 in 2022.

[formulakracing]

🏎️ the garage 🏎️

this is where i am going to keep all of my upcoming works! they will be sitting in the garage, waiting to be released out onto the grid! <3

✧˖ ° key ✧˖ °

in the garage - upcoming works to be posted sometime this week

at the paddock - upcoming works, more than likely posted within the next one to two weeks

residing at team headquarters - ideas i have brewing, perhaps potential series or fic ideas, a lot of rambling more than likely, fics to be posted at some point in time

˚∘⊰ in the garage ⊱˚∘

mile high club -> mercedes driver!reader x toto wolff

the gray areas -> team principal!reader x toto wolff

first time for everything -> virgin!reader x toto wolff

what they want -> mercedes driver reader x toto wolff {angst + smut}

{untitled} -> chapter two of college student!reader x daniel

{untitled} -> the first chapter of vampire!toto x student intern!reader

{untitled} -> midwestern!reader x carlos sainz

˚∘⊰ at the paddock ⊱˚∘

girlfriend!reader x toto wolff -> haunted house special!

sugar baby!reader x toto wolff

reader x toto wolff -> social media stranger au

just one date -> part ii. of toto wolff x horner's!daughter reader

gf!reader x toto -> toto takes the reader on their first date as a couple. all of the fluffiness and goodness in the world!

{untitled} -> chapter four of girls like u

{untitled} -> chapter two of princess!reader x knight!oscar piastri

˚∘⊰ residing at team headquarters ⊱˚∘

reader x toto wolff -> inspired by too sweet by hozier

gf!reader x toto wolff smut -> toto making you walk around the brackley home naked so he can have easy access whenever he wants

reader x seb vettel fluff -> cute moments over the radio hehe

{untitled} alkaline spin-off -> where gg wins in austria and toto rewards her

{untitled} alkaline spin-off -> the one where gg is pregnant and toto is the best dad & attentive partner ever

{untitled} alkaline spin-off -> where gg introduces toto to her parents

fernando x actress!reader -> smau

female!driver x grid -> where the grid reacts to her not having a definitive seat for next season

olympian!reader x toto wolff -> the reader is the goat but is a little upset toto wants to keep their relationship under wraps. after a huge fight, toto comes to the realization that maybe she deserves to be shown off

olympian!reader x danny ric -> danny is so stoked to show off his stud of a girlfriend

toto being obsessed with reader's chest -> a oneshot of toto invested in some tatas

singer!reader x checo -> sometimes internet sleuths can expose someone's biggest secret, no matter how famous they are

enemies to lovers -> toto wolff

{untitled alkaline spin-off} -> the one where toto has a massive breeding kink

{untitled} driver!reader x joe burrow

{untitled} engineer!reader x josh allen

reporter!reader x toto wolff — based on the infamous football interview moment

alkaline spin-off -> gg gets in a crash and susie helps out for toto

max verstappen x wolff!reader -> max and toto's wolff daughter have been secretly seeing one another. that is, until a little weasel airs it all out in abu dhabi

checo pérez x wife!reader -> with the influx of hate checo has been receiving lately, he's in desperate need of some comfort

alkaline spin-off -> gg & toto get into a heated argument during a race weekend. toto says some things he can't take back, and boy, does gg hold a grudge

alkaline spin-off -> gg and george get into it and poor toto is caught in the middle. will he defend gg or will he tell her that he's on george's side for this one?

alkaline spin-off -> toto is a bit in his head after discovering some leaked photos of gg with lawrence stroll. was she just being polite or were there ulterior motives?

max verstappen x tennis player!reader -> max is so supportive of his badass girlfriend who happens to be one of the biggest tennis stars in the world

toto wolff x figure skater!au -> toto wolff and his controversial young, hot girlfriend. this time, she's an elite figure skater. nothing but endless fluff and supportive moments!

fan!reader x sebastian vettel -> a fic inspired by the song "fictional"

toto wolff x reader -> it's clear that toto wolff has a girlfriend. but who is she? one weekend at the paddock is all it takes for the world to know exactly who she is.

sebastian's sister!reader x kimi räikkönen -> the younger sister of an infamous driver is very eager to prove to the ice man that she is more than just a family name

wwe diva!reader x fernando alonso -> why is nando at a wwe event? who is he there to watch? it's more than likely his sexy wwe girlfriend!

sebastian vettel x red bull princess!reader -> a fic set in the early 2010s with seb and his red bull princess

just a reminder that my requests are always open! if you would like to see your idea come to life, feel free to send a message in my inbox! <3

[sokkadora]

thanks to them — hunter (gg) x clawthorne!reader

continuation of comfort crowd & hold out!

summary: after months of trying, the hexsquad make a daring try to get back to the demon realm.

a/n: okay um. the requests are going to be coming over the course of this week (no promises 🙏🏼) but. you will be seeing them soon!

wc: 5.2k

warning(s): possession, blood mention, (almost) dying, flapjack dying :(

You squeeze Hunter hand tightly as your. eyes droop and Luz’s mother opens the door, and gasps in shock to find six teens looking disheveled out in the rain, as Luz looks up at her.

“Hey, Mom.” She shrugs softly, and starts tearing up. “I'm back.”

Camila and Luz stare at each other for a moment, before Camila gives daughter and gives her a warm embrace, both crying.

Camila invites you all inside for dinner, and after finishing you all contribute to cleaning up. Camila is washing the dishes, Gus helps her by using magic and an awkward Amity gives her a cup of tea. Camila smiles, and pats Amity on the shoulder.

She joins you at the table, leaving a seat for Luz between you and her as Willow rubs a hand against your back as a comforting gesture.

Luz gets out a box of bandages that have cartoon mascots resembling Eda, King, and Hooty, and she sighs softly. Hunter approaches her quietly, grabbing onto the doorframe.

“Hey. Thanks for not telling them that I'm a...” Hunter starts, looking away, embarrassed.

Luz opens the box of bandages, staring at the bandage softly. “A grimwalker?”

“Shhhh, don't say it so loud!” He shushes worriedly. Luz hands him two bandaids for you, and he stares at them for a moment before speaking. “Uh... what about you? How've you been since, uh...?”

“Since we were in Belos’ mind? Since I found out I helped him meet the Collector?” Luz squeezes her eyes shut, holding back tears. “Oh my gosh, Hunter. They're all gonna hate me.”

“What? Psssh!” Hunter scoffs lightheartedly, stepping closer to Luz as she wipes away her tears and slightly smiles at Hunter. “No, of course they won't. They won't hate you any more than me when they find out that...” He starts panicking. “I might be a clone of... someone who was a... witch hunter... with... Belos...”

Luz and Hunter frown, and slowly turn their individual gazes to their partners; you and Amity.

“(Y/N) already knows and still loves you, but… we'll tell them. When we're ready..”

Hunter nods and the two join the others in the dining room. Willow scoots over a seat for Hunter to sit next to you as Luz sits on your other side and places a bandaid on Amity’s hand.

“Okay, so in the Demon Realm, you fought the evil Emperor Belos who turned into a monster...”

Hunter shakily grabs your arm, pulling you from your thoughts to sit up straight and watch him. He opens the bandaids and places them over them on the scratches on your arm, and smiles worriedly at you. When you smile and take his hand into yours, it quells any fear he might have that you don’t love him the same as before you knew he was a grimwalker.

“Well, he started out human.” Gus says, and you and Hunter turn to listen to the conversation.

“Right, but he was defeated by a newer, smaller bad guy?”

“The Collector.” You say, clearing your throat as Camila turns her attention to you. “We don't know what he is or how Belos found him.”

“Who knows if we'll ever figure that out?!” Luz says, panicked. Amity and the rest of the table (except you) look at her, confused. “But they're creating a lot of chaos.”

“We have to do whatever it takes to get back.” Amity states firmly, turning back to Camila.

“And you will. But for now, you should all rest.” Camila smiles, looking around at all the kids that are now in her care. “You're all safe here.”

Camila shows you and the other girls to Luz’s room, and Gus and Hunter to the basement.

Vee, the basilisk Luz told you about, shows you, Willow, and Amity a small black box with numbers on it with a wide smile.

“In the morning, instead of screaming, it'll do this!” She presses a button on it, and it activates an alarm.

You stare at it curiously while Willow and Amity gasp in shock, jumping up from where they were sitting.

“Don't worry, Vee!” Amity says, placing an arm in front of Vee.

“We'll keep you safe!” Willow shouts, destroying the alarm with her plant magic. Once it collapses on the floor in tiny pieces, Willow and Amity smile. “Good work! It's dead!” She and Amity bump elbows as you pout and Vee stares at the alarm clock sadly.

“Uh... thanks.” Vee says sheepishly.

You look down at the floor where Willow made a hole with her plant magic, and glance up to see Camila peeking in the room. You sheepishly smile, drawing at spell circle and casting a spell that fixes the hole.

Camila smiles at you thankfully, and closes the door.

Over the months you stay in the human realm, there are multiple tries at a portal door to get back to the Demon Realm, but they all fail. But it doesn’t stop you from having fun there, after all, Camila has made time to take you all on tons of trips over Luz’z summer break. You cut Hunter’s hair for him as he shyly explained what he had found on Philip and his brother, and you both experienced human rain for… the first(ish) time.

That one had to be your favorite memory here so far, giggling at Hunter being covered in mud as you hopped down the stairs. You kneeled and brushed the mud out of his hair and eyes, and his shy grin that he always gave you when you were that close.

But summer came to a close and Luz was at school, so you and everyone else were hanging out in the abandoned house behind Luz’s home.

Amity, Gus, Hunter, Willow were all trilling R's, while you and Vee — having lived with Luz and Camila, were speaking perfect Spanish.

Gus mumbled to himself, “Am I doing this right?”

You and Vee spoke into the tablets app, and a ding sound came from it, making the two of you grin.

“Perfecto! You're our top student!”

Amity squinted at the tablet. “Hmm. I was the top student once.”

Flapjack begins pecking at the table, and you glance at Hunter, who shrugs.

“He's still doing that, huh?” Gus asks, crossing his arms and looking up at Hunter.

“He won't tell me what he's looking for.” Hunter sighs and shakes his head.

Camila enters the shed with a warm smile, “Hi.” Looking around she grins, “Ooh! I like what you've done with the place. No more exposed nails or possum nests. But this still confuses me.” Camila motions to a painting of Hooty on the door, and you squint at the droopy paint.

“Yeah. He still confuses us too.”

“Hola Camila.” Gus smiles, waving at her. “We're learning Spanish from this scary owl app.”

“Hoot hoot! Practice every day, or I'll appear in your nightmares.”

Camila blinks in surprise. “Oh, okay. Well, I'm going to pick Luz up from school.” Camila grins, placing a hand on her hip. “Pop quiz; ¿Como se dice eso en español?”

“Oh, oh! Uh... Hunter inhales and starts speaking strained Spanish.

“Voy a recoger a Luz de la escuela.” You grin, clasping your hands together.

“Muy bueno!” Camila grins and winks at you. “Keep it up.”

Amity sighs after Camila leaves, “Maybe we should take a break.”

“A siesta.” Willow grins.

“Siesta!” Gus exclaims, bounding up from his spot on the floor.

“We've been here for months, and we've made no progress on the portal door.” Amity explains, throwing her arms out in exasperation as she stands up. “We can't expect Camila to take care of us forever.”

“In the meantime, we could pull more weight around the kitchen.” Gus nods. “My mustard ravioli did bring tears to her eyes.”

“Those weren't the kind of tears you're thinking of.” Vee cringes.

“I can help fixed damaged clothes!” Hunter holds up a shirt he made / fixed, grinning.

Willow holds up a plant monster, “I can spruce up the garden!”

“Maybe we need to look elsewhere. There's an entire Human Realm to search.” Amity says, placing a hand on her chin while pacing in front of the group.

“But Luz has school most of the week.” You say, a hand on your hip.

“So? Let's explore the town ourselves. After all, Luz went into the Boiling Isles on her own.”

“If Eda came here before, maybe there were others. Maybe they left something behind we can use.”

“Yes! That's the spirit! Together, there is no challenge that can hold us back.” Amity trips in a hole Flapjack pecked and faceplants, making everyone cringe. Amity groans, “Ow.”

“It's a sign! We're doomed!” Gus gasps.

“Come on Flapjack, this isn't funny anymore.” Amity grunts, until she sees something in the hole. She gasps, “There's something in here.”

Amity holds up a hexagonal box as the group gathers around her. She opens it and takes out a scroll and unrolls it.

You kneel down next to her, and run a hand over the paper. “Hmm. Looks like… a map?” You guess, looking up at Amity.

“Or a secret code?”

Flapjack chirps at Hunter, landing on his shoulder. “Flapjack, is this what you've been looking for? What does it lead to?”

“That eye, it kinda looks like the old portal door.” You say aloud, making Willow and Gus gasp.

“The portal door!” They link arms and begin chanting. “Portal door! Portal door! Portal door!”

“Alright, alright, calm down,” You smile softly, standing up and putting a hand on their shoulders to stop their bouncing. “Let's tell Luz.”

“What if it's just another dead end?” Amity sighs, turning to face you. “She already feels responsible for our other failed attempts.

“Then, let's not tell her until we can figure it out.” Willow grins. “Using our buff brains!” She flexes her arms, and everyone follows but Hunter, who’s blushing at you.

“Buff brains!”

Hunter laughs, still flustered as he joins in. “Yeah!”

You and Gus head towards the basement after helping Camila in the kitchen, “Thanks for helping, kids.”

“Anytime!” Gus smiles, waving back at her.

“Anytime, Ms. Camila.” You wave, “Good night!”

Gus hops down the stairs and swings around a banister, flopping on the couch as you walk down the stairs normally. Hunter looks up from his sewing and smiles at the both of you.

“Whoo! We've got a big day ahead of us, so I'm gonna buenas this noche.” Gus smiles, getting under his blanket as you sit on Hunter’s sleeping bag.

“Mm-hmm!” Hunter smiles with his eyes closed, and gets his finger caught in Camila's sewing machine. “Ow!” He whimpers, and you gasp.

“Are you okay?” You asked worriedly, and Gus nods.

“Yeah, that sounded painful.”

Hunter scoffs, and continues sewing, “I've been training in the Emperor's Coven for as long as I can remember.” He smiles confidently at you and Gus, making you smile. “I think I can handle a little...” He cuts his finger, and winces. You and Gus wince with him. “...pain.”

“Oh. That went clean through.” Gus said sheepishly as you pulled a bandaid out of your pocket and gestured for Hunter to come over.

Hunter sat down beside you and started speaking with a smile as you wrapped his finger, “Camila taught me how to use this sewing contraption. Even Darius's stitches have never been this neat. Oh, and look at what I made!” He leans away, grabbing something and holding up a shirt. You scoot back to lean against the couch as you and Gus listen to him. “These are mystical beasts called wolves, and I love them.”

He smiles, his eyes practically twinkling with wonder and joy at the thought of wolves.

“That looks great, Hunter.” You smile, crawling forward and ruffling his hair. He laughs, and fixes it as you crawl into his sleeping bag with a grin. “You know, you've been smiling a lot more since we've been here.”

“It's not like I don't want to return!” He turns to you and waves his hands, denying that he wants to stay here permanently. “I just need a way to pass the time. That's all.”

“No. It's good to see you happy.” Gus chuckles, nuzzling into his pillow. “One of us might as well be.”

‘You could say that again,’ You think to yourself, sighing as Hunter joins you in his sleeping bag.

“What was it like to be in the Emperor's Coven for so long?” Gus asks curiously.”

“I trained a lot. I studied a lot. I wasn't really allowed to be around the other scouts.” Hunter explained as you turned on your side to look at him. “But weekends were nice. I got to leave the castle for missions.”

“…” You look at his gloveless hands and stare for a moment. “Do you miss it?”

“I miss…” He sighs and turns his head to you. “knowing who I'm supposed to be.”

“I miss my dad.” Gus says despondently, turning onto his back and staring up at the ceiling.

“I miss my mom. And King.” You sigh, twirling a strand of hair around your finger.

“Even Hooty?” Hunter asks, shuddering.

“Yes, even Hooty.” You chuckle, hugging his arm to your chest.

Hunter smiles down at you, “We'll find a way back. We have to.”

Gus gasps excitedly. “Oh, my Titan. That's a line from this book I found.” He jumps off the couch and rustles around in a box before pulling out a book. “Cosmic Frontier! It's a story that takes place in the stars.”

“Why would anyone wanna go up there?” Hunter asks curiously.

“I don't know. Humans like spreading their junk everywhere.” Gus shrugs, but continues rambling. “But it's a story of people trying to get back home, like us.”

“Uh-huh.” Hunter nods, intrigued as Gus hands him the book and points to people on the cover. “We got Captain Avery, Security Officer Quando, Alien Princess Gorina, and a Chief Engineer O'Bailey who's hiding as a clone from the enemy planet.”

Hunter gasps, and looks at Gus as he walks towards a door, “What, uh, happens to him?”

“I guess you'll have to find out.” Gus opens a closet to reveal costumes, and shares a grin with Hunter.

The next day, the rest of you without Luz gather in the abandoned house again.

“All right. Luz is at her mom's vet clinic putting tiny little bandages on ‘hedgehogs,’” Amity grins, standing in front of everyone. “So today, we're going into town to solve this code.”

“Ears.” Gus nods, pulling his beanie over his ears.

“Routes.” Vee nods.

“Snacks,” She shows her bag off and pulls your arm around out to show off the snacks on the inside of your jacket. “check.”

“Human disguise, check. Eh?” Hunter announces, walking in and drawing everyone’s attention. He was wearing a costume from the book Gus had shown the two of you last night.

You blushed, clapping at him enthusiastically, “Oh, that is a look.” You grin as Willow snaps a picture of him.

“According to Cosmic Frontier, this is what the modern human male wears.” Hunter informs, walking in while reading the book.

“This was written in the '90s about the year 2008.” Vee cringes after taking the book and reading the cover.

“Yeah. Can't wait for that New Year's party.” Hunter chuckles at Vee as you approach him, holding up his arms and circling him to look at the costume better.

“This costume is so accurate, Hunter.” You compliment, holding up his arm. “Down to the stain on side!”

“I kno— wait, there’s a stain?” Hunter questions, making you giggle as you quickly cast a spell to get rid of it.

“And did you two get to the last chapter?”

“O'Bailey and Gorina are still hiding the fact that O’Bailey a duplicant in hyperdisguise.” Hunter grins.

“But Captain Avery is figuring it out!” You squeal.

“I think he already knows but-“

“Ah, bup-bup-bup! No, no, no, no, no spoilers!” Hunter squawks, covering his ears.

“Hunter, I don't think the world is ready for the brave fashion choices of the year 2008.” Amity says, her nose scrunching up in disgust at the costume. “Please change.”

You quickly lunge at her and put a hand over her mouth. “Don't listen to her!”

“Aw, geez,” Vee morphs into her human form and holds up the map. “we're gonna miss the bus.”

“Oh, it's okay! I'll catch up.” Hunter waves them off. “There's a transport worm every half hour.”

Everyone heads out, you lagging behind while grabbing your fanny pack. You quickly step over and kiss Hunter’s cheek, and turn to him before closing the door.

“With that costume, it seems I’m going to need your help with a Gorina look when we get back.” You wink, closing the door as Hunter blushes at you.

　　　　　　　　　　———

After looking around and finding some answers, you take the bus back to Luz’s house to find Hunter in the basement with Flapjack while Gus brings the costumes upstairs for the others to look at.

After Gus leaves, Hunter turns to Flapjack after you set down the stuff you pickpocketed on the desk. Grinning, your palisman flies out and you prepare to search through it, but Hunter starts talking.

“Did you know about this?” He asks sternly. “That he was here? I can tell you're hiding something.”

Flapjack chirps as you and your palisman share a glance.

Hunter sighs, “Sorry. I shouldn't take this out on you. I'm just scared.”

Clearing your throat, Hunter whips his head to you, who has a brow raise and sits crisscrossed on the chair at the sewing machine.

The sound of a vehicle pulling into the driveway saves Hunter from the interrogation, and you both head upstairs. Hunter heads outside while you head into the living room, (P/N) resting on your shoulder.

“Oh, (Y/N)!” Gus exclaims, grabbing an item and running up to you with it behind his back. “I know what we’re gonna be for Halloween, but where’s Hunter.”

“He went outside to see Luz, I think.” You scratch your head, and try to peer behind his back as Camila walks in. “What’s your costume idea?”

“You, are going to be the almighty….” He pulls out a blaster, paint splattered over the cylinder barrel. Your eyes light up as you take it from the boy, a grin on your face.

“Gorina!” You squeal, bouncing around before posing and aiming the blaster at the wall, trying to imitate the character.

Luz and Hunter enter the house as you do so, and Gus nudges you to signal that they’re back.

“Hey, we're back!” Hunter chuckles. “And we bought some, uh, cars.”

As Amity turns to Luz, Gus rushes over to Hunter with you.

“Guess what I've got planned? I'm gonna be Captain Avery, (Y/N)‘s gonna be Gorina, and you're...” Gus hands Hunter a prop for his character, and he gasps.

“Chief Engineer O'Bailey?” Hunter grins, squealing as he holds it to his ear.

Camila gulps, her grip on her mug tightening. “How do you know about Cosmic Frontier?”

“All the books in your basement.” You say, smiling at her.

“Oh!” Camila laughs nervously. “Funny how things just show up in basements, right? Without you hiding or putting them there. Life sure is full of surprises.”

“Cool! Humans freak out just like us.” Gus grins, gesturing to Camila.

“It'll be fun. We want to experience your weird human traditions.” She laughs, pulling out a headband and putting it on her head.

The next day at the Haunted Hayride, Hunter helps you out of the car and lets you fix your outfit before grabbing your hand again and intertwining your fingers. Smiling up at him, you stepped close to Hunter, your other hand coming up and hooking onto his forearm as you joined the group.

“All right. We'll keep the puzzle a secret 'till the time is right.” Amity grins as Luz speaks to her mom back at the car. “And then we'll tell her about the Titan Blood!”

Hunter suddenly whips his head around, and glances at Flapjack. “Did you hear that?” He whispers to his palisman so that you wouldn’t hear.

Flapjack chirps as you glance over to Hunter, raising a brow at his attention being off the group.

“Hey, it's okay. It's probably just in my head again.” He quietly reassures as you turn your head back. “Nestle down, Flapjack.”

Luz finally joins them, and Amity grabs her shoulders excitedly. “We're gonna have the best night, and we might even have surprise for you.”

“Yeah, me too.”

After doing a few activities, you move over to haunted hayride, where Hunter helps you up the hay bales and into the tractor, where you sit in between him and Luz. You offer your hand to him, and he takes it with a bashful grin,

“I hope you're all prepared for a truly scary ride.” Masha grins, their bangs blowing in the wind.

“Make us cry! Make us cry!” Gus and Willow chant excitedly, making Masha smile wider.

“Because there's nothing scarier than knowledge.”

“Boo, just lie to me!” Gus heckles, earning a nudge from Willow.

“Let me tell you the eeriest unsolved mystery of Gravesfield.” Masha says deviously as the tractor begins moving. “The Tale of the Brothers Wittebane.”

You, Luz, and Hunter gasp, and Amity leans in, moving her bang away. “Wittebane? Isn't that Belos?”

“The year is 1613.” Lights glow behind the four, and they turn to see the story being told in an exhibit. “Two orphaned brothers arrive in Gravesfield. Their names? Philip... and Caleb.“

“Oh, no.”

As Masha narrates the story, cardboard cutouts depicting events that happened to Philip and Caleb play out in the background as the gang watches.

“Caleb did his best to take care of his younger brother. They tried to fit in with this town, and its unsavory practices. They became witch-hunters!” Masha informs, the wind blowing the stray strands of hair on their head around. “Local lore suggests that the Brothers Wittebane met a real witch from another world! Her name was Evelyn. And the older brother was spirited away. She dazzled him with magic and visions of a strange yet beautiful place. They used a secret code to travel between worlds. Philip set off to save his brother and bring the witch to justice. But neither were ever seen again! Maybe Philip saved Caleb, and they went on to lead peaceful lives. Or maybe,” They turn on a flashlight and points it at their face, “he's still chasing his brother, caught in a cycle of horror and strife!”

Masha turns off the flashlight, smiling. “Sounds like big bro got a hot witch girlfriend and little bro got upset.” Masha jokes. You glance at Hunter, who seems out of it. “But that's just me.”

The hayride ends and the gang gets out of the tractor. Nearby, Hunter hears Belos laughing, which terrifies him. He grabs Luz once he realizes that you aren’t watching, and the two run off.

After a few minutes, the group starts to look for them after noticing.

“Luz? Hunter?” You call out, and accidentally bump into Amity.

She shakes her head, “Did you find them?”

“Calm down. They probably just went to buy some more cars.” Gus reassured as you fidgeted with the seeds on your shirt.

“Yeah. Yeah. You're right. I just- I wanted to show Luz the rebus.” She looks down at the pocket in her dress to pull it out, but it’s gone. “Wait. Where did it go?”

“Kids!” You all hear Camila’s voice call for you, and turn to see her and Vee rushing to you from her car. “Have you seen Luz? And has she, um, said anything weird?”

Vee whips out the phone Camila finds her with a grin. “Boom! Find a phone.”

After a few beeps, it shows Luz’s location to be deep inside the forest. And as confused as you all are, you’re more concerned with finding your friends.

You run into the graveyard Luz was in to see her fighting… Hunter? You gasp as you gently push past Amity, eyes wide as you watch your possessed boyfriend fight off your closest friend.

“Hunter?” You question in horror, the blue glowing eyes that didn’t belong to him glanced over at you with a cruel smile.

“That’s Hunter?” Camila gasps.

“Something's wrong.” Gus shakes his head.

Hunter speaks, but it’s meshed with Belos’ voice. “See, this is why you're so useful, Luz. You're so desperate to help people, you even helped me meet The Collector.”

“What?”

“I didn't mean to. I thought I was doing something good.” Luz states, clasping her hands over her chest.

“You did do something good. I thought this one was another lost cause.” Belos spoke through Hunter, and you furrowed your brows furiously. “Because of you, we can finish our work as witch-hunters, starting with them!”

He launches his goop arm at you and the others, but you quickly summon your staff, deflecting it and flying off towards him.

He grunts as you, Amity, and Gus use your magic to try and knock him down or restrain him, but to no avail.

“Hey, Belos. Remember me?” Gus shouts, and Belos launches his arm out again, only for you and Willow to latch onto it and slam it onto the ground to restrain him.

Vee runs forward, “Hang tight, Hunter!” She starts draining his magic with her powers.

Amity snatches Vee away before she can be knocked away. “Vee, watch out!”

After making sure Vee was safe, you all fly back to try again, but Belos knocks Amity, Gus, and Willow out of the sky while you narrowly dodge the smack.

You quickly cast a spell for a cloud to appear under them before they hit the ground, and turn back to Hunter and Luz.

Luz uses Hunter’s staff and teleports to him, hugging his arms to his sides, “I know you can hear me, Hunter. Fight him off!”

Belos flips Luz off of him, and Amity creates a bridge of ice and vines to catch her as you swoop down and break her fall. Letting her roll off you, you quickly sit up.

Flapjack starts chirping and pecking at Belos's antlers, but the he immediately catches the small palisman. Everyone freezes, and Belos chuckles darkly.

“That's right. You wouldn't want me harming your precious palisman, would you?” His grin drops for a moment, before returning. “Oh, but then again, I don't care what you want. Goodbye, Evelyn.” Belos sends sharp parts of himself shooting through Flapjack. You gasp, tears welling in your eyes as he lets go of the bird

“Flapjack!” You cry out, Luz crawling over as he lands in your hands. “Flapjack, you'll be okay.” You gently caress the top of his head, and he chirps at you.

Hunter groans, holding his arm as he stands up. “You know what I'd like, Belos?” He slowly trudges towards the lake, the vial of Titan’s blood in his grasp. “'d like to leave the Emperor's Coven and never step foot in that throne room again. I'd like to study wild magic, and learn how to carve palismen. I'd like to attend Hexide as a regular student and play flyer derby with my friends. I’d like to be able to see my partner without worrying about you killing them. But most of all, I'd like to make sure you never hurt anyone again!” Hunter throws the vial of Titan's blood into the river, and Belos takes over again.

“No!” Belos jumps into the water, managing to catch the vial but falls unconscious as a result.

“No!” You gasp, standing up and moving to the edge of the bridge.

“Move.” Camila says sternly, brushing past you. She jumps into the water to save him and a few moments later, manages to rescue him.

“Be careful with him!” You shout, moving to the edge to help.

The others help you and Camila hoist Hunter onto the surface, you gently set his head on your lap, hands cupping his face.

Belos finally leaves Hunter's body as he takes the monstrous form he previously had.

“Caleb, you would stab me in the back?”

Luz stares at him angrily, “You did it to him first.”

Belos, outraged, smashes the vial of Titan's blood into the archway, opening a portal to the Demon Realm. Your mouth drops open, but your glare remains.

Belos growls, “This is for the good of your souls. You'll thank me later.”

He goes through the portal, leaving everyone speechless.

“That's the Belos you've been fighting this whole time?!”

You turn to the group after shaking Hunter for a while, “Guys, Hunter isn't moving.” You cry, tears in your eyes as you lean down to his face to listen for breathing.

“Vee, call an ambulance.” Camila says, and Vee nods, standing up and pulling out her phone.

“Uh, do human doctors know about possession?” Willow asks, eyes welling with tears.

“Or Grimwalkers?” You ask, looking up at Camila desperately.

“Possession?!”

“Grimwalkers?!”

“We should still call a doctor.”

“I'm not getting cell reception.”

“What do we do?”

A weakened Flapjack flies out of Luz's pocket to Hunter, and the others watch despondently. Flapjack rubs his face against Hunter’s cheek and chirps sadly, then settles down, sacrificing his life to revive Hunter as the others sadly watch on.

Hunter groans and slowly opens his eyes, which have turned brown, “Hey, guys. Is everyone else okay?”

Gus and Luz share a glance before turning back to Hunter, “Actually, Flapjack...”

“Don't. Don't.” He cries, hand clutching his chest where Flapjack last laid. “I already know.”

The tears you’d been holding finally fall as Hunter sits up, leaning back on you for support as you hug him from behind tightly.

“Sit up slowly, baby. Are you in pain anywhere?” Camila asks worriedly, placing a hand on his shin.

Hunter squeezes your forearm as you cry into his back. “I'm okay.”

You don’t really hear the others talking about the Collector over your silent cries and sniffs, but when Hunter turns around and takes your face into his hands softly, you feel grateful.

“I thought I lost you,” You sighed as he stood and pulled you up, not letting go of your hands,

“I’m here.” Hunter smiles, pulling you over to Luz and the others.

“Mija, now that I've seen what you're up against, there is no way I'm letting you go back there alone.” Camila says firmly. “It is our duty to help your friends get back to their families.”

“But...” Luz starts, but Hunter steps over with you right behind him.

“You were tricked. That's what Belos does. He tricks people.” Hunter says grimly, earning a squeeze on his hand from you. “But if it weren't you, it would have been someone else, and then there'd be no one left to fight back. So let's do that. Let's fight back. Please? For Flapjack?”

Luz turns her gaze back to you, and she’s reminded of her family on the other side. Your shared family. You smile encouragingly at her.

“For Flapjack.”

The portal pulses, and the group turns their attention towards it.

“The portal's closing.” Vee points out.

“Then we better head in.” Luz nods, and you and Hunter make your way to the portal first.

Standing before it, he looks to you, and you look at him. You give him a smile reassuring smile, and he sighs shakily.

“Time to go home, Flap.”

[torukmaktoskxawng]

'anla - part seven

Series Masterlist Summary: The next generation is getting ready to complete their Iknimaya. Ao'nung and Y/n aren't exactly hiding, but people are finally noticing. Pairing: Ao'nung/Fem!Na'vi!Sully Reader Warnings: Mature language, overprotective parent, heated arguments, heated gazes (in a sexy way), fluff, coming of age, mentions of mating, mentions of drowning and death, etc posted on ao3 Word Count: 8k+ Tag: #'anla ao'nung fic Na'vi Words: Marui - house/pod, ilu - plesiosaur like animal, tulkun - whale like animal, skxawng - moron, akula - shark like animal, olo'eyktan - clan leader, ma'yawntu - my love, paskalin - honey, syulang - flower, tìyawn - love, tsahik - spiritual leader, tswin/kuru - queue braid, tsakarem - tsahik in training, tsurak - skimwing, ikran - mountain banshee, tsaheylu - the bond, swoa - intoxicating beverage, oel ngati kameie - I See you, ma'yawntutsyìp - my darling, nantang - viperwolf, ma'ite - my daughter, taronyu - hunter Taglist (bold indicates "could not tag"): @bangtanxberm @aonungmyaddiction @lv9su @aisselasstuff @yourusername1 @amortencjja @king-julian6201 @gg-trini @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @mikeyswifie @heart-an0n @iloveavatar @urdads-gf  @kentfisherswifee6 @sakurayuki8655-blog @ken-zah @nilrilie @g-l-1-t-c-h-3-r @iovemoonyy @sopluto @frvv A/N: Two chapters in just two days??? Anyway, like I said the last chapter, I had to split my writing into two parts since it was getting to be over 10,000 words, so here is the next part!

The trip back to the village was a quiet one, Y/n's mind still reeling about her conversation with Neteyam. Jake thankfully didn't ask and acted as a pillar of strength when they returned home. He made one look at Neytiri and she opted out of saying anything, gladly letting her husband and her daughter return to the marui but not before she held them both in her arms out of relief that things would be alright between them. Y/n went to bed early, exhausted from all of the events of the day that resulted in the grief come bouncing back. If she woke up in the middle of the night to find herself in a cuddle pile of both Na'vi and human siblings, she didn't mention it, and none of the Sullys made any comments the following morning. Everyone was just happy that bonds were mending and hearts were healing. They were one step closer to feeling like a family again.

Lo'ak was visibly more comfortable walking beside Y/n that morning, knowing that she and their father had talked, and was happy to no longer walk on eggshells around either of them. Y/n appeared more relaxed as well, despite receiving some odd-looking glares from nearby Metkayina girls. To ignore the stares and lighten the mood a little more, Y/n shoved her little brother into the water before he could even blink. The resulting splash sent Y/n laughing and Lo'ak sputtering when his resurfaced, vowing revenge. It was then that Ao'nung and Rotxo showed up, grinning down at Lo'ak's predicament while standing beside Y/n.

"Quit messing around, Lo'ak," Ao'nung teased good-naturedly, "We got work to do today."

Lo'ak frowned, slightly embarrassed but summoned an ilu for himself. The other teens do the same and they head out to work, all the while Rotxo explains today's task to the Sully children, "When training to be a warrior among the Metkayina, you have to ride an ilu to chase away predators that threaten the young."

"Bro, we used ilu to rescue a tulkun and fought against Sky People," Lo'ak retorts, "I think that should count."

"He's got a point," Y/n added, "I think we rescued plenty of our young doing that."

Lo'ak squints his eyes in his sister's direction, "I couldn't tell if that was sarcastic or not."

"Figure it out, skxawng."

"It is all about tradition," Ao'nung explained, "I am sure the Elders would appreciate us keeping up with old traditions despite we have done enough to become warriors ten times over already despite our young age."

"So we're only doing this to impress a bunch of old people?" Lo'ak questioned with an added groan, getting splashed by Y/n in the process.

"Lo, for someone who just tries to fit in--"

"I know, I know," he waved her off half-heartedly.

"I'd like to see you talk that way to Grandmother."

A bit of color drains from Lo'ak's face, but otherwise he says nothing. Ao'nung laughed as they leisurely swayed in the water, leaning over in Lo'ak's direction, "They say that the Elders see and hear all. I would watch my back if I were you, Lo'ak te Suli. Maybe make a necklace for them as an apology."

Y/n laughs while Rotxo's smile slowly turns up into a mischievous grin, eyeing Ao'nung while opening his mouth, his eyes all-knowing, "Speaking of necklaces, that is a very nice arrowhead, Y/n. Akula?"

Ao'nung spun to glare at Rotxo in warning while Y/n briefly pressed a finger to the arrowhead she had yet to take off. She quickly retracts her touch and pointedly doesn't look at Rotxo, "Yes, thank you."

By now, Lo'ak is also staring at the necklace, eyes widening each time his brain puts another piece of the puzzle together, head tilting to Ao'nung, then Y/n, then back again. Rotxo could see Lo'ak's realization slowly dawning on his face and decided not to let up for the sake of teasing his friend, "Did you make it? Or was it given to you?"

"The necklace is mine... the tooth was a gift."

"Oh? From who?" Rotxo's big eyes practically sparkle with mirth, staring directly at Lo'ak as he adds, "You know, speaking of tradition, usually when a Na'vi gifts another something as special as that, it means they are courting--"

"I think we should split up on our patrol," Lo'ak abruptly states, briefly glaring daggers at Ao'nung while urging his ilu forward to swim beside Rotxo, "As I am about ready to strangle both of you, I will be going with Rotxo."

"Sure," Ao'nung shrugged, "Meet back here around midday?"

"Alright. See ya then."

Ao'nung and Y/n watch Lo'ak and Rotxo speed their ilu up and swim away, jumping in and out of the water before disappearing on the horizon. The pair waits until they are completely alone before Y/n flashes a side-eye glance in Ao'nung's direction, "You told Rotxo?"

"I didn't tell him anything," he defends, "But practically everyone has been asking. They all probably know."

"Yeah... 'Teyam used to tease me about it." She smiled sadly at the memory.

"Did he? I was so sure he would have killed me."

"No, he was the brother you didn't have to worry about," she huffed a small laugh, "Lo'ak and Spider on the other hand... well, you've been punched by the one before, and Spider might be more level-headed but you have never seen him truly angry."

A small glimmer flashed in Ao'nung's eyes, a wave of respect for the human boy washing over him, "That's intriguing."

She snorts quietly, her eyes returning to the spot where the other pair of teenagers disappeared, "I'm pretty sure Lo'ak has known about us for a while, maybe before I even knew there was an 'us.' So I wouldn't worry about him. He's just acting like a child."

She raises an eyebrow when Ao'nung emits a small growl, "Maybe your brother should worry about me if what I heard about him and Tsireya is true."

"Oh, please. They have been fond of each other since the day they met, don't act like you didn't notice." Y/n rolled her eyes.

"I am going to kill him."

"You will do no such thing if you know what's good for you," she glared dangerously back, though Ao'nung noted that it was not as heated or as threatening as her usual glares, "You cannot hate him for seeing your sister and then turn around to see his. Besides, I think your mother doesn't mind it after she and I talked that one time we were foraging. She heard my side of things and I think she actually approves of Lo'ak and Tsireya now."

Ao'nung goes back to that day when he found Y/n and his mother walking out of the forest together, his ears sheepishly pinning back against his skull when he remembered what had happened after Y/n had left, "My mother asked about you."

Y/n's eyes widened, "She did?"

"And she tells my father everything, so..."

"Same here. I think our sisters know, but they are not saying anything. They would take it to their grave if we asked them." Y/n smiles to herself.

"It wouldn't matter. This whole village is full of spinsters," Ao'nung snidely comments, "Everyone's business is everyone's business."

He watched as the gears openly turned in Y/n's head, her eyes looking to the sky while she asked, "... Is that why there were girls staring at me down by the docks this morning?"

"I do not know," initially, he shrugs, but she watches as Ao'nung's eyes slowly start to sparkle as his teasing grin reemerges, "Maybe they are jealous."

"Jealous?"

"Of course," he flaunts dramatically, "Jealous that a forest girl from a faraway place managed to steal the future olo'eyktan out from under their noses."

Her scowl immediately pitches into a laugh when he reaches over and briefly grabs her tail. Y/n pulled away from him before he could do it again, still laughing while trying to evade his hand.

They urge their ilu to swim a bit more after that, chasing one another playfully until they get to their next spot for patrol. By the time they got there, Ao'nung noticed that Y/n was staring off into space and looking a little unsure of herself, "What is it?"

Her eyes and ears lower, gaze pointedly staring down at her hands, "We mentioned honoring tradition earlier, then just now you reminded me of your stature. Maybe the Elders wouldn't appreciate the chief's son choosing a forest girl over one of their own."

Ao'nung scoffed, "The Elders don't care about that sort of thing. You are Na'vi. That's all that matters to them."

"But even you didn't think we were true Na'vi," her eyes flick up to his and his blood turned cold under her stare, "Not when we first arrived."

He slouched, ears drooping while his eyes softened into regret, fingers twitching with the need to reach out to her, but remained in his lap, "I was wrong."

"Maybe. But there are others who still think the same way you did. They still look at me, Lo'ak, and Kiri and think we are freaks. I am pretty sure even Tuk has more friends than us because she at least looks Na'vi."

"That is not why she has more friends," Ao'nung tries to smile, "Tuk is Tuk."

Y/n hums to herself, feeling one corner of her mouth twitch at the fond thought of her baby sister, "That's true."

"You..." Her eyes flick back up to Ao'nung when his voice didn't sound very confident. He wouldn't look her in the eyes, clearly feeling out of his comfort zone. She patiently waited for him to speak, occupying herself by watching drips of water fall off his brow or glisten in his hair, the sun reflecting off his wet braids like diamonds. Y/n's chest squeezed, but it wasn't an uncomfortable feeling. It was warm and it was spreading over her like a comforting blanket that her mother would leave beside the fire. Her thoughts are disrupted when Ao'nung finally finds the courage to look up, "You have never once doubted yourself like that. Lo'ak and Kiri sometimes still look at themselves and hate what they see, but not you. You've never doubted yourself, Y/n, so why start now?"

"It doesn't matter whether or not I despise how I look," she carefully answers, feeling small and scrutinized under his disbelieving gaze, "It matters what everyone else would think if they knew you were courting a deformed freak."

"You are not deformed."

"No?" She bitterly questioned, frowning as she lifted up her hand to him, purposely wiggling her pinky finger, "This doesn't freak you out? It is alien."

"So what?" He reached out for her hand, "An extra finger just means there is more of you to hold."

The response stuns her to the point she didn't react when Ao'nung slipped his hand into hers. Looking down, she stared at their joined hands, fingers wrapped around one another in an ornament of two different colors. Looking back, their skin tones complimented each other beautifully together, and the contrast just made sense. Y/n was still amazed about how big Ao'nung's hand was compared to hers, despite being the same age. Once those thoughts vanish, all that's left are Ao'nung's smooth words and the color slowly rising in her ears.

Y/n scoffs, trying to play it off, "Do you think yourself charming?"

Ao'nung grinned, "Only for you, ma'yawntu."

The term of endearment surprises her out of a laugh, playfully horrified, "Eywa, no."

"Paskalin?"

"Stop."

"Syulang?"

"Please, you are embarrassing."

"I got all day, tìyawn." Ao'nung laughed, "What would you like me to call you?"

"How about my name?" She asked sarcastically.

His smile was wide, bright, and downright beautiful. It took all of Y/n's willpower not to melt right then and there, "Of course, Forest Girl. It's what I prefer anyway."

"I'm sure it is, Seaweed Brain."

~~~~~~~~~

Ronal's baby was born in the traditional way, in a water birth ceremony called the First Breath, where the whole clan gathers around in shallow water to celebrate. Now, normally the tsahik would help the mother guide her newborn to the surface to take its first breath, but seeing as Ronal was the one expecting, one village healer and Tsireya were chosen to help her. This was a new kind of ceremony for the Sullys so they hadn't fully participated until after the baby was born, then they proceeded to celebrate with the rest of the Metkayina.

Kailani was a beautiful baby girl and everyone adored her. Nearly everyone wanted to see her and hold her. As the newest baby in the village, she had earned herself a lot of attention and was loved by all, especially her older brother and sister. Ao'nung was little enough that he couldn't remember when Tsireya was born, and Tsireya had always been the youngest, so this was the first time either of the chief's children experienced what it was like to have a new baby in the family... and it showed.

This became obvious a month into Kailani's life when Tuk came out of nowhere and started to drag Y/n and Kiri by their hands toward Ronal and Tonowari's marui, "Come on, come on! I wanna see the baby!"

The teen girls reluctantly follow their little sister, smiling fondly at Tuk's excitement. It was adorable to see that Tuk didn't have much experience with babies either. Approaching the pod, it was obvious neither tsahik nor olo'eyktan was home, and yet there were soft cries coming out of the marui. Tuk drops her sisters' hands and runs in while Y/n and Kiri dutifully follow. Walking inside, they find Tsireya and Ao'nung sitting close together, appearing a little worried and exhausted while looking down at the small baby lying in her big brother's arms. Both of the reef teenagers looked up when they heard someone enter, and Tsireya waved them over, "Have either of you seen our mother?"

Kiri and Y/n exchange a look before the former responds, "She's in the healer's hut. A warrior came in all scraped up from getting thrown against the coral reef."

"What is wrong?" Y/n asked.

"She won't stop crying," Tsireya admits shamefully, looking a little distraught, "We do not know why. We fed and changed her, but--"

"Have my sisters help," Tuk confidently offers without missing a beat, proud at her idea, "They know about babies. They helped Mama take care of me when I was little."

Tsireya and Ao'nung pointedly look up at the older Sully sisters, their eyes desperately pleading. Kiri was initially going to scoff at Tuk for her idea before Y/n wordlessly stepped forward and knelt down in front of Ao'nung. One look and she could tell why Kailani was so upset. Her tiny body wasn't exactly held close to Ao'nung's body but was instead held in his arms and in his lap. It didn't look comfortable and Y/n pitied the child.

"Here," Y/n offered, leaning over and helping Ao'nung adjust his hold on his baby sister, having him lift Kailani up from his lap and making sure he kept supporting her neck, "Babies need a lot of skin-to-skin contact at the beginning of their lives. It helps them bond with their mothers and other members of their family."

Y/n helps Ao'nung lift Kai until she's nestled snugly against his chest, her face protected in the crook of his neck. Almost immediately, the baby calms down, trying to bury her cold little nose into her brother's warm skin. Ao'nung is unable to speak or look away from Y/n, his ears only perking up as a sign he is listening when she keeps on explaining, "Try not to pinch her tswin. Without any hair to protect it yet, the tswin can be extra sensitive."

Kiri smiled softly to herself as Y/n continued to list several things Tsireya and Ao'nung could do, both of them listening with intense determination, all the while Kiri could only think about her older sister. It really was a shame that Y/n didn't want to take on the role of tsakarem, instead passing it along to Kiri when her adopted sister had shown an interest. Y/n still remembered a thing or two about healing from when Mo'at had begun to teach her, but from what Kiri understood, Y/n would get easily distracted and would beg their grandmother to dismiss her so she could go find Neteyam and train alongside him to become a warrior. Mo'at eventually gave in, fondly stating how Y/n was just like her mother, then proceeded to name Kiri her successor.

While Y/n may not like the method of healing and preferred hunting, she was still pretty knowledgeable when it was needed, and as Tuk said, she and Kiri remembered what it was like having a new baby in the family. Tsireya and Ao'nung appeared incredibly grateful for Y/n... but Kiri couldn't help but grin under her hand while looking at the way Ao'nung was staring at her older sister. The way his mouth formed such a secretive smile without the intention of showing it, his eyes subtly falling from Y/n's eyes to watch her lips as she spoke before flicking back up to her eyes before anyone would notice. But Kiri noticed, and she eventually had to look away because she felt as though she was intruding on something so intimate.

Rotxo had told Kiri and Spider about the mysterious arrowhead-shaped tooth that suddenly appeared around Y/n's neck one day, but the adopted Sullys didn't want to believe it. Lo'ak had scoffed, rolling his eyes and refusing to talk about it, but Neytiri had overheard and had this all-knowing smile on her face as she cooked over the hearth when her children walked back into the marui after bidding Rotxo goodnight. Jake and Tuk were none the wiser but Kiri had a feeling that her father was like Lo'ak, trying to ignore that something was clearly going on between Ao'nung and Y/n. Now, it was more obvious than ever.

~~~~~~~~~

While Y/n had not been able to complete all of her rites of passage alongside Rotxo and Ao'nung, she and the other Sully children still cheered them on and celebrated alongside them, especially after watching in amazement to see how a young Metkayina must finish certain challenges alongside their bonded tulkun brother or sister. After finishing those trials, along with taming their own skimwings, Ao'nung and Rotxo were gifted a special article of clothing, their first tattoo as warriors of the clan, and three beads for their songcords. Everyone was proud of the reef boys, now celebrated as young men among their People.

Next was going to be Y/n. She was determined to follow suit, as were Lo'ak and Kiri. They went out to practice for their trials every day, playfully competing with one another. Whilst Kiri was planning on becoming a healer in the tribe, she still wanted to tame a tsurak as her rite of passage and receive a Metkayina tattoo meant to signify healing. Jake and Neytiri were not sure how to feel about three of their children rushing toward adulthood, but they were supportive either way. The older Sully children tried very hard not to exclude Spider in the many training exercises, but he goodnaturedly shooed them away and told them to have fun and train hard. He may not be able to follow them, but he will still cheer them on from the sidelines, being there in spirit.

Lo'ak passed his trial with Payakan with flying colors, and now he and his sisters would move on to taming their own tsurak. Kiri did so with ease, her attachment to Eywa helping her befriend the mighty skimwing instead of mastering it. All of her siblings cheered for her from the docks, watching her disappear to wander with her new friend beyond the sea wall. Lo'ak was determined to go next, and while it looked a little rocky at times, he too, mastered his own warrior's mount, and Jake yelped and whooped proudly for his son. Lo'ak also left the safety of the lagoon to explore with his new friend and likely introduce him to Payakan.

When it was Y/n's turn to go tame a skimwing, Ao'nung approached her and spoke quietly under his breath, "Remember. The tsurak are temperamental creatures. Much like an ikran, you have to work hard to form a strong and loyal bond with them."

"Got it," Y/n nodded in acknowledgment, wrapping leather around her knuckles per her father's advice. Speaking of whom, Jake was approaching his daughter so Ao'nung simply nodded his head toward Toruk Makto and walked away to stand beside his own father.

Jake narrowed his eyes as he watched Ao'nung leave before softening his gaze and speaking down to his firstborn, "You're your mother's daughter. That makes you the best flyer and hunter on an ikran, so this will be a cakewalk for you. Tonowari told me that the ikran and the tsurak share a distant ancestor, so it's easy to see where they get their stubbornness from. You know how to tame stubbornness. You'll be a pro at this."

Y/n tried her very best not to visibly shrink up under her father's advice and praise. She wants to stand tall and proud under his words of affirmation now that they're starting to see eye-to-eye, but it is still a work in progress. She's not used to her father being so encouraging as of late, due to him stressing out over the war, moving away, and losing a son, so it was still a big step that needed adjusting. So, Y/n instead smiled widely up at her father and whispered a small thank you before rushing over to get the tsahik and olo'eyktan's blessing.

Ronal and Tonowari bid Y/n good luck with their own hidden smiles while Tsireya shared her confidence for her friend and lifted Kailani's arm up to wave at the Sully girl for encouragement. Ao'nung flashed his forest girl his own secret smile and a small nod, barely noticeable to the naked eye. Y/n practically beamed and with a new wave of confidence, turned and ran down the long dock to the very end, diving gracefully into the water.

All forms of sealife greet her underwater, her breath held as she forced herself not to get distracted. Since that fateful day against the Sky People, Y/n had been training herself to hold her breath longer, hoping to never have to worry anyone over her drowning ever again, not wanting to be a burden. Without wasting any time, she called out for a skimwing to approach her.

She had managed to find a school of fish Ao'nung told her was the tsurak's favorite snack, so she swam close to the fish and continued to call out, her heart singing when her strategy worked and a familiar beast gradually glided toward her, its powerful, scaled body creating a disturbance in the water. Looking like a Terran gharial, the tsurak approached with purpose and demanded to be respected, other small fish species quickly scattering to avoid it. With its long, sword-like snout, it gave itself personal space, and with its beady, soulless eyes, it analyzed Y/n. For an animal that was nearly domesticated with the Metkayina, Y/n wasn't worried about whether or not the creature deemed her as a threat, but then again, she looked different compared to all the other Na'vi the tsurak likely grew up with, and it was possible the skimwing could smell the part of her that descends from demons.

Y/n didn't take the kind and befriending approach as Kiri did. That form of taming only works for someone as Eywa-blessed at Y/n's adopted sister. Instead, she kept herself between the beast and its likely prey, the schoolfish behind her. The threat was clear. If it wanted to eat, the tsurak would have to go through her first.

The reptilian-looking fish didn't appear insulted by the threat and leisurely swayed side to side, jaw gradually opening and closing to breathe while stuck in place, showing off its small rows of razor-sharp teeth while staring Y/n down and waiting for the right opening to strike. Y/n slowly and carefully pulled her kuru braid over her shoulder all the while keeping her eyes locked on the tsurak. As they continued with this ocean version of a standoff, Y/n gradually began to inch forward, only moving in small, very slow strokes of water.

When she got too close, the tsurak opened its jaws and snapped down, quick as lightning, but Y/n was prepared for it. Much like taming an ikran, she quickly moved out of the way before the creature could bite her head off and, using her knuckles and palms now wrapped in leather, clamped down on the jaws of the creature, keeping it shut with as much muscle she could muster while using her newly found momentum to quickly swim onto the skimwing's back, never letting go. Knowing she would only have a second before the creature was no longer stunned, Y/n let go of the jaw with one hand and quickly grabbed her braid, immediately forming the tsaheylu.

The beast wiggled and then paused, swaying calmly back and forth as the connection was made. With her lungs slightly beginning to burn, Y/n didn't panic but also didn't hesitate to give the creature the order to resurface, now letting her other hand let go of the tsurak's snout in good faith. She promises to let the tsurak eat, later, if he swam up for air.

As quick as a bullet, the tsurak follows its new rider's order, shooting up through the water at great speed. Y/n nearly forgot to hang on tight, clamping her thighs down on the creature's back as tight as she could, her ears beginning to pop at the very sudden water pressure as they rose higher toward the surface. Sunlight was coming in fast and, before she knew it, Y/n was out of the water, leaping through the air, and plunging back into the ocean, all while still holding on tightly to the back of her very own tsurak. The beast resurfaces more gently this time and stays leisurely swimming above the water, giving Y/n much-needed time to breathe. She smiles when she can hear scattered cheering from the beach and docks but keeps on task, trying to stay focused. She has yet to fly with her new ride.

Adjusting her grip on the creature, she gives her new order, clenching her thighs again while preparing for the powerful beast's ascent. The tsurak begins to speed up, faster and faster until it's zipping through the water like a ship. Eventually, it gains enough momentum and the creature lets out its wings, extending them until they begin to catch air, and then the body rises out of the water. Y/n hangs on tight, stamping down the anxiety in her gut, sharing her determination and willpower through her new bond so the skimwing knows she means business. There is no room for failure.

The tsurak doesn't stumble, doesn't break, and doesn't lose focus. As they sail, the pair sails gracefully without a single wiggle or wobble. Y/n can faintly hear cheering in the distance but doesn't let it phase her. One more test. She gives the order and holds her breath, immediately bending down and pressing her body tightly against the creature's back.

The tsurak retracts its wings and points its snout down, briefly falling through the air before diving straight into the water below. The impact and mighty force of it all was much more powerful than riding an ilu, and Y/n had to hold on for dear life. Water rushed through her ears and she squinted her eyes in order to see better, but she held on and she held firmly. She would rather get her arm pulled off than let go, so she held on tighter, her leather wraps doing the trick to give her a better grip. One last order and Y/n feels the pair of them shooting back up through the water and into the air again, and this time, Y/n hoots triumphantly at the top of her lungs, hanging on tightly with one hand but throwing her other fist in the air, her trial complete.

Several people are cheering with her on the beach and in the water. Spider, Tuk, and Jake are whooping and hollering like party animals, ecstatic for their daughter and sister. Ao'nung and Rotxo are cheering alongside them, along with several other Metkayina watching the event. Y/n beams proudly at all of them from a distance, then proceeds to follow Kiri and Lo'ak's lead and head for open waters.

Ao'nung is smiling just as proudly from the beach, and once Y/n takes off, so does he. The chief's son immediately breaks into a sprint down the side of the beach, diving into the water before another word can be said. Once below the surface, he calls for his own skimwing and takes off after the Sully girl.

The only one who appeared to notice Ao'nung slip away was Neytiri, but she appeared to be smiling as she watched the reef boy chase after her daughter. A brief wave of déjà vu washed over her as she watched until she couldn't see either tsurak anymore. She smiled fondly, proud and filled with unimaginable joy as she had witnessed history repeat itself, much like it had with her when she first chased after Jake on their ikran.

The new warriors do not stay out for long. When eclipse comes, Y/n, Ao'nung, Lo'ak, and Kiri return for the Sully children's ceremony. The sunlight disappears and it's replaced with a bioluminescent glow everywhere, as far as the eyes could see. Lo'ak, Y/n, and Kiri stand before Ronal and Tonowari as they are presented with their rewards, their article of clothing, and the beads for their songcords to signify this triumphant milestone of adulthood. The Na'vi believe that every person is born twice and the second time is when a Na'vi finds his or her place among the People forever.

Once Ronal and Tonowari bestow the three Sullys their first tattoos, they were officially one with the Metkayina, marked with warrior and healer ink. Everyone gathered around the new young adults and congratulated them, making room for the parents to squeeze their way through the crowd and finally gather their children up. Neytiri held her children against her, joyous tears in her eyes even as her heart broke, mourning their childhoods but celebrating their futures. Jake held his children just as tightly but didn't make a sound, afraid of what would come out if he tried to talk.

The ceremony gave way to celebration, large bonfires lining up and down the beach, the flames rising high into the night sky, embers blinking down on Eywa's children along with the stars above. The Metkayina dance together in wide circles around the fires, conjoined in several different rings, moving in opposite directions as they sang, talked, laughed, ate, and drank to their hearts' content.  

Y/n found herself dancing around a fire that was shared by most of the newest warriors of the tribe, people around her own age, and her brother and Kiri. There were so many fires along the beach, however, so it would be nearly impossible to find out which ones her other family members were socializing at, hidden among the chaotic crowds of flailing limbs and boisterous songs. She allowed herself to let loose and cared little about what others thought of her, letting the swoa warm her stomach and the fire her skin. She stuck close to Kiri and Tsireya for a short while before the chief's daughter ran off to find Lo'ak. Y/n and Kiri playfully rolled their eyes before the latter decided to turn in for the night-- which is just code for she was going to keep Spider company so their adopted brother didn't feel left out. Y/n let her sister go without complaint, giving her a brief hug and voicing how proud she was of her. Kiri smiled brightly under the praise and took off, leaving Y/n's heart feeling warm as well. Getting roped back into dancing, Y/n danced without a care in the world, not bothered by whether or not she looked bad, and sang with the others until she was breathless. The celebration was getting to be too disorderly with everyone having so much fun that faces had begun to blur and sometimes when people danced, they were spinning too fast to figure out their bearings. 

But Y/n let her feet carry her to her intended destination, and that was right into Ao'nung's arms. With her family elsewhere and other Metkayina having too much fun to otherwise gape at the sight, Y/n danced with the chief's son for practically the whole night, tired and out of breath, but never wanting to stop. She couldn't help it. With the fire lighting one side of his face and the bioluminescent ocean lighting the other, Ao'nung looked ethereal, and Y/n couldn't stop her rapidly beating heart even if she wanted to.  

Ao'nung only looked at her, never caring about who saw them, his smile gentle and eyes proud, not helping the flips Y/n's stomach was taking. Her body felt like it was on fire in the best way possible under his gaze, and maybe it was the lighting, maybe it was the liquid courage, or maybe it was the way he was looking at her, but her mind was open and her voice was knocked loose from her throat as she pulled her reef boy close to her and whispered so only he could hear the words that she knew, deep down, were only meant for him, "Ao'nung. Oel ngati kameie."

Ao'nung's eyes briefly widened, mouth falling open in shock, yet he couldn't take a breath in. The fire didn't help the blooming fire in the forest girl's yellow eyes, piercing up at his and leaving him breathless, unable to come up for air. She didn't look afraid or even bothered by his reaction, instead, she smiled, a little cheekily, as if she could see just how much she affected him. Slowly, he comes back to his senses, a smile slowly creeping up his lips once more. His hands gently cup both sides of her face, marveling at how her entire head fit perfectly in his palms, while her reasonably smaller hands move to hold his sides, keeping his body close to hers. Ao'nung leans in, taking a small breath in through his nose, memorizing her scent before he gently fits his lips against hers, to which she responds in kind. The kiss tasted like sea salt and swoa, but neither complained, closing their eyes and reveling in their closeness.

Despite her lessons, Y/n regrettably needed to pull away for air, and when the kiss broke, her soft pants ghosted across Ao'nung's skin, hot and prickly, and when her eyes opened, she stared up at him through her eyelashes, cheeks slightly flushed. It took a tremendous amount of willpower to relax his body, his heart racing to the tempo of drums playing somewhere in the crowd. Eventually, his mind clears and he manages to find words again, leaning his forehead into his forest girl's.

"Ma'yawntutsyìp Y/n. Oel ngati kameie."

~~~~~~~~~

Neytiri sees everything when it comes to her children, especially her firstborn daughter. That girl is a spitting image of the mother who birthed her, except for the little human features she inherited from her father, so Neytiri often knew what was going on in Y/n's head because she had been in her daughter's footsteps. Neytiri was young once. She knew what it was like to be in love.

Neytiri te Tskaha Mo'at'ite had seen the lingering glances, the stares when the other wasn't looking, and the smiles that were only shared between each other. Furthermore, Neytiri had noticed the arrowhead on Y/n's necklace the second she came home that day, and then the mother noticed Ao'nung anxiously waiting to get out there and chase her daughter into the sea astride their tsurak. And of course, even in the vast crowds lining the beach the night of Y/n's ceremony, Neytiri could see the young pair kissing, unbothered by the amount of people around them. It felt as though no one had seen them but her. 

And yet, she had not said a word. Much like Y/n and Ao'nung's sisters, Neytiri intended to take their secret to the grave if it meant seeing her eldest daughter smile again. Sure, Neytiri was fiercely protective of her children, but she would never refuse her child when it came to whatever made them happy... especially after she had lost Neteyam.

So Neytiri kept quiet and just watched from a distance. Now that three of her children were seen as adults among the Metkayina, their tattoos a physical sign as such, she wasn't gonna go around telling them what to do anymore and just enjoyed their company while it lasted. After all, soon they will choose men or women to be with... and not long after that, Neytiri will find her marui emptier than the day before.

One fateful day, Neytiri found herself alone with Y/n in their family pod, cooking some fish over the fire to prepare meals for the rest of the Sullys to take with them throughout the day. It was a quiet and comfortable morning until Ao'nung showed up, respectfully greeting Neytiri before asking Y/n if she would like to join the other warriors on a hunt that afternoon.

Y/n perked up at the offer, her smile brightening under Ao'nung's gaze. Wordlessly, she nudges Neytiri's shoulder with her forehead, and her mother leans into the touch before the daughter draws away and stands up. Y/n briefly grabs Ao'nung's arm before diving into the water with the intention of having him follow her. Ao'nung stayed a second longer, lingering in the doorway of Neytiri's home when he noticed the woman staring at him. Despite wanting her daughter's happiness, Neytiri also wants her daughter to be safe, so she briefly glares at the chief's son before simply looking back down at her task, "If she gets hurt, I pluck your eyes out."

For some reason, he knew she wasn't talking about the hunting party.

That same night, during communal dinner, Neytiri could see just how obvious Ao'nung and Y/n looked. Instead of sitting with her family, Y/n sat with his, conversing between him and Tsireya without a care in the world. Occasionally, the chief's son would try to sneak a kiss on the forest girl's cheek, hiding it by pretending to whisper in her ear. Y/n would smile shyly, her pinky finger subtly reaching out for his hand whilst she talked to his sister.

This time, Neytiri wasn't the only one who noticed, and she cursed herself for not trying to distract her husband sooner instead of openly gawking at the young pair with him. The moment Ao'nung reached for Y/n's pinky finger, Neytiri could feel her husband tense up beside her. Immediately, she knew what was about her happen once her mate quickly stood up and she was helpless to stop it. 

"Jake--" She had gotten up as well but it was too late. Her mate had already stormed off in the direction of their daughter. Several eyes throughout the communal meal turned in their direction and Neytiri could feel their stares prickling along her back, her other children now aware of something wrong when she stood.

"Mama?" Tuk asked.

The older Sully children immediately clock the situation once they follow their mother's gaze, seeing their father clearly out for blood as he beelines for the chief's family. Spider immediately scrambles to his feet, "Shit--"

Neytiri didn't know whether to hiss at or agree with Spider's observation, her feet taking her to where Jake was going, the rest of her children now standing up to follow her as well, abandoning their meals. Neytiri would not make it in time, but even from where she was, she could hear the commotion already starting when Jake reached down and grabbed Y/n's arm, pulling her to her feet and away from Ao'nung, "Alright, young lady. Time to talk."

"Dad, what--"

Ao'nung immediately rose to his feet without thinking. Neytiri almost pitied him, "Sir--"

Jake's glare fell on Ao'nung, his voice dropping low to a tone only the military side of him could produce, "And you, boy. Did you mate with my daughter?"

"Dad!"

Y/n's exclamation further drew the attention of the tsahik and olo'eyktan, along with even more Metkayina sitting around the growing commotion. Neytiri could see Ronal and Tonowari stand up as well, their eyes only on Jake and their son, dread forming in her gut at the idea of what might happen next. Ronal handed Kailani over to Tsireya and marched with her mate over to the confrontation as Jake continued to talk down to her son. 

"And whatever you say better be the answer I'm hoping for, young man. So choose your words wisely."

Neytiri finally reached her husband and grabbed his arm, opening her mouth to try and get him to calm down while the rest of their children stood around them and simply observed with worried glances. Ao'nung glared only at Jake, his shoulders squared back, and stepped up no doubt to defiantly say something stupid before Y/n stopped him from where she stood behind her father.

"Ao'nung," she warned loudly, to which his eyes flicked to hers at the sound of her voice.

Time stilled as everyone turned to Y/n, waiting to hear what she had to say, even her father. She didn't look at anyone else other than her lover. All Y/n had to do was flatten her ears and just ever so slightly tilt her head, eyes locked on his the whole time for Ao'nung to get the message, loud and clear. His shoulders lower and visibly calms himself under her stare, and in response, Ao'nung merely nods. The young Metkayina backed down, stepping away from Toruk Makto and glancing off to the side, eyes and ears lowered like an injured nantang pup. Jake's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, glancing between Ao'nung and his daughter, trying to figure out what had just happened.

From beside Lo'ak, Kiri silently gasps behind her hand as she whispers to the younger brother, "Oh, my Eywa. He's so whipped for her."

"Bro-- shut up," Lo'ak hissed back, glaring at his sister's tiny amused smile while Spider laughed under his breath.

Jake didn't have time to berate his other children as he shook off his confusion and his wife's arm, letting go of Y/n's bicep but keeping her frozen to the spot under his cold, scrutinizing glare, "Look at me, young lady," she refused at first, eyes flicking elsewhere in shame and fear, "Look at me."

Her frown twitches just as the fear dissipates, her usual distaste for authority returning. Her eyes harden as she purposely and slowly glares up at her father through her eyebrows, her entire posture now defiant and standing strong against him.

Either Jake didn't notice this subtle change in body language or he didn't care, glaring right back at her, "Tell me the truth. It's a simple yes or no. Did you mate with him?"

She flashed her fangs, grinding out her response between her teeth, "No, sir."

"Do you plan on it?"

"I do not see how that is any of your business anymore."

"Y/n, where I'm from, you're still too young to have a family," he points back to Ao'nung without ever taking his eyes off his daughter, "And he is the chief's son--"

"You can't tell me who I can or cannot be with when Mom went against everyone and everything she believed in to be with you," her tone was strong and accusatory, throwing Jake into a state of shock as he nearly stumbles back. Y/n stood strong against her father, her words bold and as destructive as a tsunami wave, "I would not exist if you hadn't gone off and mated with the chief's daughter so don't you dare try to sound as if you are above such scandal." 

"Oh, snap," Spider muttered, earning an elbow to his chest from Lo'ak.

The entire commotion had been driven to silence, everyone waiting with bated breath as to what would happen next. Neytiri felt both fear and pride for her daughter, again, feeling history repeat itself through the eyes of her child. Tonowari finally broke the silence and the stand-off by stepping between Jake and Y/n and placing a comforting hand on Toruk Makto's shoulder, all the while pointedly staring at each and every Na'vi who was openly watching the family feud, "I think it is time for everyone to return to their meals."

Ronal backs up her mate's demand by glaring at all the bystanders, "Go on."

The Metkayina scatter, either to return to their seats or avert their eyes back to their food, the silence now filled with casual mumbling among the People. Jake's ears droop when he realizes the size of the audience he attracted by his outburst and he has the decency to look ashamed. He peers back to his family and mutters, "Lo'ak. Spider. Take the girls home."

"I can walk myself home, thank you very much," Y/n snarled dangerously, stepping around Tonowari and her father and stomping through the parting sea of Na'vi who dared to get in her way.

Tuk pouted and stomped her foot defiantly, "So can I!"

Kiri sighs in mental exhaustion toward her baby sister, "Tuk..." 

Once the other Sully kids gathered and vanished from the meal, Tonowari glanced between Ao'nung and Jake, "Let us return to my home to further discuss this."

Ronal gestured Neytiri over to her before looking over her shoulder to address Tsireya, "Stay here, ma'ite."

Tsireya nodded appropriately, keeping Kailani close to her chest as she flashed a small look of encouragement to Ao'nung. She watched her parents and brother walk out of the community marui, the Sullys following suit. Neytiri walks out into the night with her husband's hand in hers, squeezing his fingers in encouragement.

Once the group was safe inside Ronal and Tonowari's home, Jake immediately apologized, "Brother, forgive me for my actions against your family. I was out of line and your son did not deserve my behavior toward him."

Tonowari raised his hand to gently silence him, "I will not fault a father for just trying to protect his child. There is nothing to forgive. Ao'nung is still young and has much to learn. Before he began to court your daughter, he should have gone to you for your blessing immediately."

Ao'nung, clearly embarrassed, kept his head down while he quietly whined, "Father, please--"

"You are the one who wishes to court Toruk Makto's daughter, boy," Tonowari directed his gaze to his son, eyes darkening but not as a threat, but in disappointment, "As the future of our clan, you should have done what tradition demands."

Jake took pity on Ao'nung, watching the way a father looked down on his son, immediately thrown back to the past when he, too, looked down on Neteyam and Lo'ak, and instantly knew he had to speak up this time, "No. I don't blame your son for not coming to me. I don't deserve that sort of respect. Y/n is strong-willed and she knows I don't deserve the respect of being her father or any traditions that require me to be so. If anything, she would much rather have Ao'nung ask for my sons' blessings over my own because her brothers respect her as an individual who can make her own decisions... unlike me."

Tonowari nods, looking back to meet eyes with his mate. Ronal shares a silent conversation with him before the chief turns back to the Sullys, "If it is any consultation, Jakesully, Ronal and I have approved of this match a long time ago."

Ao'nung's head perks up with interest, "You did?"

Jake's question echoed Ao'nung's, equally shocked, "You did?"

The chief explains with a distant look in his eyes, "I was much like my son at that age. Arrogant, crude, and desperate to please the other reef boys around me. All it took was to find Ma Ronal to get my head back on straight. From that day on, I only ever ran after her." 

Ronal pointedly looks at Neytiri, her chin held high, "Even though he is destined to be olo'eyktan one day, my son has never shown interest in a mate. Never. Not once. That is... until he met your daughter."

Neytiri took Ronal's stare as an opening for her to add to the discussion, raising her hand to gently take her husband's arm to grab his attention, "Jake. I already knew."

Jake turned back to her, still shocked and sounding like a broken record, "You did?"

"Everyone did," she nodded, smiling slightly, "Apart from you. Why do you think none of us have said anything before now? It is because we have accepted it and even approved of the match. We all would have said something sooner if we were against it. Y/n is taronyu now and she does not need our permission to live her life anymore. She never had."

Jake takes a moment to collect his thoughts, breathing deeply in and out slowly through his nose. He stared off into space, conflicted with a war going on in his head before Neytiri simply squeezed his arm and he returned to the present. Jake looked back at his wife before raising his white flag, turning his gaze onto Ao'nung with an expression of guilt.

"I am sorry, Ao'nung. I shouldn't have accused you of anything. I know Y/n is capable of taking care of herself and I know she wouldn't have given you the time of day if she didn't think you were a good man," Ao'nung stands up straighter, appearing grateful and nodding to Jake before the former marine turned to Tonowari, "We'll take our leave now. I apologize for interrupting your supper."

Jake takes Neytiri's hand again and they walk home, speaking as they walk so their conversation is kept private before they would have to face their children, "Does he have to court her now? They're too young."

Neytiri hums in agreement, "Courting sometimes takes years, Ma Jake."

"It wasn't with us."

She hums again, only it was full of fond amusement, "If I recall, you never courted me."

A small grin played on his lips, a little drained from tonight's events, but it was genuine all the same as he playfully spoke, "No, but if I recall, you knew exactly what you were doing taking me out there to the Tree of Voices, alone, wearing your hair like that and wearing that lovely top--"

"Ma Jake!" Neytiri gasped in astonishment, gently slapping his chest and laughing as they finally made it home.

The parents quiet their amusement before they walk into the marui, instantly met with five pairs of eyes, four yellow and one brown. While the rest of their children stared expectedly at them, Y/n immediately looked away, ears pulled back in embarrassment and tucking her knees up to her chest.

Jake immediately beelines for Y/n, slowly sitting down beside her as he wraps an arm around her shoulders, "I'm sorry."

Conflict flashes over her face. It felt as though she and her father were back at square one, fighting as though they hadn't already sorted out their issues. Then again, this wasn't Neteyam, or the war, or Y/n's depression. Jake was just trying to be the classic overprotective parent he was always meant to be. He wasn't acting as a soldier. He was acting as a father, and that's all Y/n had ever wanted from him. Slowly, she melts into her father's embrace and sighs, "I know. You were just being my father. That is not something I'll ever blame you for. Just... don't be so embarrassing next time."

Jake and the rest of the children laugh while he just holds Y/n close. Neytiri smiles at the scene, trying to memorize it as best as she can so she can share it with Neteyam the next time she visits her son. After all, Y/n was one step closer to moving out of their family marui and wouldn't be able to hug her father like this as often as they used to. As sad as that made Neytiri feel, she was comforted by the fact that Ao'nung was kind and good to her daughter, and she would never be alone again.

A/N: The next part will be the final! Basically, I wrote everything that I wanted for this story, and the rest of it can be told in just one more chapter, so I hope you've enjoyed it as much as I have!