#behind some books in a lower shelf

[yourangle-yuordevil]

He was just drinking his two totally normal glasses of regular wine 🍷

[humanpurposes]

You Want This, You Need This

The only daughter of Rhaneyra Targaryen is firmly devoted to her mother's cause, and yet she finds her way through the passages of the Holdfast, to the bedchamber of a Prince she should hate // Main Masterlist

Aemond Targaryen x nameless female character (daughter of Rhaenyra)

Warnings: 18+, smut, enemies with benefits, hate sex, degrading, angst, Targcest (uncle and niece)

Words: 3.7k

A/n: Me making a poll then doing whatever I want 🫶

There’s no use in waiting for sleep to come to her, she’s too restless for sleep.

Her bedroom is full of alcoves and adjacent chambers, good for hiding and keeping the room cool during the summers. In one of the alcoves is a mural. If she presses a particular space on the wall with much force, she can push it to reveal an entrance into the hidden passageways of Maegor’s Holdfast. 

Light is lost beyond the threshold. A gentle but piercing breeze washes over her, through the thin and billowing fabric of her night shift. There’s always this lingering excitement when she opens the doorway. She equates it to the thrill of flying, cutting through the wind on dragonback. Only she’s not in the sky, she’s staring into darkness, daring herself to take a single step.

As children she and her brothers had found many of these hidden doors throughout the castle, the perfect sort of places to hide in when they were in trouble, the perfect place to eavesdrop and move through the keep undetected. When their mother found out she had discouraged them from venturing too far, lest they end up like the piles of bones left by rats and other rodents that had never found their way out. 

The paths within the walls are treacherous, but she knows some of the routes by heart. She knows how to head down to the kitchens, she even knows a way which leads past the dungeons, to a chamber which houses the skull of Blaerion, the Black Dread, out to a beach along the shore of the bay, out of reach by any other means.

There is one particular room she has in mind tonight.

She treads carefully, tracing her fingertips against the wall so that she does not lose her way. When she comes to a series of steps she takes even more caution. She counts twenty steps, then turns another corner and keeps walking until the stone underneath her fingers turns to wood. It is a door, one which appears as part of a panelled wall on the other side. She pushes it open, hoping he has left the latch undone, and he has.

The room’s warmth is a welcome sensation. She makes as little noise as possible as she enters and closes the door behind her. 

He’s sitting by the fire, turned away from where she stands, head lowered slightly and his silver hair spilling down the back of his chair. She almost always finds him like this, practising one of his self righteous rituals. He reads until the hearth and the candles have burned out because it enforces his own belief that he is a more dedicated son than Aegon, more intelligent and more worthy than the Velaryons– than her and her ilk. 

His shoulders stiffen as the soles of her slippers tap delicately against the floor, moving towards his bed. She imagines him frowning, or perhaps smiling to himself as he closes the book in his lap.

She perches at the edge of the mattress, pushing her shoes off and letting them fall to the floor. “That was quite the display in the training yard this morning,” she says in a clear voice.

Everything he does is agonisingly slow. He grips the arms of his chair as he rises, slots the book back onto a shelf, and finally turns to face her. He is dressed in a simple black shirt and the breeches he usually sleeps in. His hair is half tied, his leather patch secured around his head, over the space where his left eye should be, sliced out by her own brother’s hand.

The low light of the hearth casts shadows in the sharp edges of his face, the lines around his mouth, the curve of his lips, proud but restrained. His remaining eye is trained on her, glaring at her like a hunter approaches prey.

“You were there to watch your brother, I thought,” he says in that softly threatening voice of his. He comes close enough to loom over her, though just far enough that their legs do not touch. “Or did you find your eye wandering?”

Jace’s first mistake had been to go down to the yard early. Aemond was always there in the mornings after flying Vhagar, to train with Ser Criston Cole until noon. His next mistake had been to succumb to Aemond’s goading. Their uncle is never one to use violence at first, not like Aegon who would brawl with a gull if he thought it offensive enough. Aemond likes to use his words to tease and probe, to lure an opponent to action, and Jace almost always falls for it. The moment her brother had challenged Aemond to a sparring match she knew what the outcome would be. Jace was a promising fighter, but he simply could not match Aemond’s height, strength, speed or skill.

Her heart sank for her brother, but it couldn’t force her attention away from Aemond. He moved like a dancer, all fluidity and control, like he already had the entire performance planned out in his head. He toyed with Jace, kept his defence up, only to knock his sword from his hands and place his own blade at his throat in a sudden flash of silver and steel.

She’d had to bite the inside of her lip to stop herself from smirking.

“You humiliated him, before spectators,” she says.

Aemond frowns in mock sympathy, taking her chin between his finger and his thumb to tilt her gaze up. “I would do it a hundred times over, for my own pleasure if not for anything else.”

She tilts her head. “And what of my pleasure?”

He hums cryptically. The corners of his mouth flicker upwards. “Your pleasure is only my concern within the confines of this room.”

He’s looking at her like that again, like he wants to devour her.

He traces his fingers down her throat, her collar, the neckline of her shift. His touch is sparse but familiar, exploring the curves of her body through the fabric, patterns she’s felt before, spaces he already knows and seems to have mapped in his head.

He leans in closer, his other hand pressing into the bed, invading her space, infiltrating her senses with the scent of smoke and lavender. She could drown in it, the scent of him.

She shudders as he runs his nose over her neck, following the heat of his breath with a lingering kiss against the sensitive spot of her skin. “What is it you want from me tonight?” 

She has an idea in her mind, one she’s been toying with since she had seen the look of pride in his face in the yard.

“Lie down, on your back.”

He stands straight. Eye still fixed on her, he does as she says, making himself comfortable against the pillows. 

She draws out every movement, just as he likes to do to her. She straddles him, settling her hips against the growing hardness in his breeches. She rests her hands against his chest, runs her fingers over his skin and the patch of silver hair revealed when she pulls on his shirt.

His hands are on her immediately, running up her thighs, gripping at her waist, bringing up the hem of her shift and tutting as though it has caused him some personal insult in hiding her body from him. He pulls it over her head and surges up to kiss her, capturing her lips with the desperation of a man starved. His kisses are always like this, slow and consuming, pulling her in closer and closer like he expects her to try to escape, like the only air he wants exists in her lungs.

It’s fast and overwhelming, and at first she’s content to just let it happen, to let herself be carried away in the currents of his wants and not her own, but once she’s a little more settled, she pushes him back against the bed.

He stares up at her, blood rushing to his cheeks, lips parted and panting. For all the times she’s seen his stoic exterior at court, she thinks he looks best like this.

“I thought you were concerning yourself with my pleasure?” she says, not bothering to contain her smile.

“I thought you liked it when I take what I want,” he retorts.

“I want you to do as you’re told.”

He huffs a laugh, but his gaze softens and his tongue wets his lips, his eye roaming appreciatively over her bare body, until he stops at her small clothes. All it takes is a few gentle rocks of her hips before his jaw tightens and his fingers dig deeper into the flesh of her waist. She swears she feels his hips twitch beneath her, but he makes no move to take what he wants.

She leans back on her haunches as she drags his breeches below his hips. By the sight of him, hard and reddened at the tip, she knows he at least finds something about this arrangement appealing. 

She discards the rest of their clothing, his shirt, her small clothes, the leather eyepatch on his head. She pauses when she reaches for it, waiting for him to protest, but he doesn’t. He gives her a small nod and she slides it up to reveal the true extent of his scar, the twisted red flesh around the sapphire wedged in his socket.

She has seen it countless times before. She needs the reminder of who he is, how much he must hate her.

Now that they are both bare she resumes her position, pleasure like a flame licking up her spine as she traces circles over her centre. Aemond grinds himself against her, breathing with a strain in the back of his throat. The sound only makes the wanting feeling in her gut tighten. She can feel herself clenching over nothing, her body begging for more friction and the release it promises.

She feels she is wet enough to take him now, and her stomach drops in anticipation.

When he whispers her name, she knows she has him exactly where she wants him.

She closes her hand around his cock, giving it a few half-hearted strokes and lining it up to her entrance, only to hesitate. “I hear your mother is intending to invite Borros Baratheon to court,” she says.

Aemond catches his lip between his teeth, staring at the space where their bodies almost meet if she would only lower her hips.

“Might he bring one of his comely daughters? He has four, doesn’t he?”

Aemond huffs and meets her eye. His hands are still on her waist, his thumbs tracing circles over her belly. “Where did you hear this?”

She tries to pretend such a simple touch from him does not excite her or tempt her to relent. 

Daemon has spies in the Queen’s household, not that she knows the specifics. Her mother had discussed the matter with her, expressing concern for the Hightowers’ intentions. It has been decades since a Lord of Storm’s End has stepped foot in the Red Keep, and Daemon believes their rivals are trying to close ranks, amass allies outside of the capital. Perhaps such a deal may be sealed with a marriage pact.

“What,” she breathes, trying to smile, “that his daughters are comely? I can only assume, for I’ve never met them you see–”

In the blink of an eye she’s beneath him.

Aemond brings a single finger to her lips. “I thought we had agreed not to discuss political matters in private,” he says.

“I did not realise the matter was political–”

He cuts her off when he snakes his hand down her body and pushes his thumb against her pearl. She hisses, her hips bucking to meet his touch.

“Are you trying to bait me, niece? Hmm? Is that what you came here for?”

She shakes her head as he circles over her. For such minimal effort on his part, it sparks something frustratingly bright in her, back arching, warmth settling between her legs and beneath her skin.

“Is that really what you want me to be thinking about? Wondering which one of the Baratheon girls is the prettiest?”

His fingertips tease over her entrance, but he doesn’t push them inside, instead they’re replaced by the head of his cock. She presses her lips together, determined not to make any kind of noise he could take for weakness, for wanting, but she feels it all the same.

“Presently, I’m only thinking about what I can see, and what I see is a spoiled little Princess, laid out beneath me. Poor thing, she’s trying to look smug, but I’m not sure I’m convinced, not when I’m about to fuck her tight, little cunt.” 

Her pleading is mindless, falling from her lips as effortlessly as her breath. “Please… please… please…”

She wonders if it is her want or his own he eventually succumbs to. He pushes in slowly, delighted at the slight moan he elicits from her, sharing her air as she gasps at the pleasurable ache of being stretched out around him.

“I’ve heard rumours too, that Rhaenyra has been sending ravens to Highgarden,” he says as he starts to snap his hips against hers. “What business would your mother have with the Tyrells, I wonder?”

Rhaenyra has her own plans for a marriage pact, plans she’s known about for months. “What indeed?” she says, trying to smile as he ruts into her.

Aemond almost growls, burying his face into her neck. As his voice is harsher so are his thrusts. “My sister will sell you to a sickly little boy, is that it? Why would Rhaenyra want an alliance with the Reach?”

Because the King is little more than a breathing corpse and who knows how much life he has left in him. Because eventually, he will die, and they both know what will come next.

She’s always known her part in this, the only daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen. Her brothers may well fight in battles to defend their mother’s claim, but wars cannot be won without the necessary support. The Reach, The Riverlands, The Vale, The North, they must all be secured one way or another.

With his face hidden from hers she allows herself to admire the way his muscles move and flex under the smooth, pale skin of his arm. Since leaving childhood behind, he seems to have this idea of efficiency, with no tolerance for excess. His arms are slight, but defined where he trains with his sword each day, where he hauls himself onto Vhagar’s saddle and steers her around Blackwater Bay.

“It’s always been expected of me,” she says, tracing her hand over his skin, almost perfect, save for a few marks: a burn after an unfortunate encounter with Vermax when he was just a hatchling, a scar above his elbow where he fell from an apple tree, and crescent shaped indents from their last tryst. “I will do my duty.”

“Duty?” He stops, grabbing her by the neck so her breath hitches in her throat. He leans into her, pressing his forehead against hers, caging her between his body and the bed. She sees nothing but a single eye and a sapphire, nothing but contempt. “You’re the antithesis of it, crawling to your uncle’s bedchamber every night, begging to be fucked.”

Anger flares in her blood. She clamps her hand around his wrist and digs her nails into his skin, hoping it will mark him. “I have never begged for you,” she spits, teeth bared, lips grazing over his, “and I never shall…”

Her words fade on her tongue when he resumes a punishing pace, urging her closer to oblivion with every thrust.

“Oh there you go,” he coos, “that feels good, doesn’t it?” He’s on his knees now, one hand still on her throat, the other on her thigh, forcing her legs further apart, fingertips pressing painfully into her flesh.

She tries to pull away from his grip, pushing herself further into the bed amongst the pillows, but Aemond has always been stubborn and does not relent. She has nowhere to go, no other option but to take it.

“You’ll be sent off to some castle in a miserable corner of the world, live the dull life of a Lady. Your Lord husband will trade swords and shields for you like a brood mare and fuck his children into your belly each night.”

She feels her peak building within her, the weightlessness rising and rising, she can hardly take much more. “Do you believe I will think of you?” she says with a grin, “as he touches me, as he spills inside me…”

Aemond grunts, folding his chest over hers, brushing his lips over her cheek as he hisses, “wanton little whore. I am the one you seek out, and as long as you do, you are mine.”

It tears through her quickly, a spark that turns to flame, a piece of kindling caught alight, pleasure that reduces her simply to feeling, warmth and the absence of his weight on her body. She claws her nails into nothing, empty space where she expects to find his skin.

Aemond has pulled away from her, groaning as he comes, spilling over her stomach and thighs. She watches him, jaw slack, brows angled like he’s in agony. 

She basks in the numbness her peak leaves behind as he drags his shirt over her skin to clean the mess he’s made with a touch that is soft and slow. His eye trails along her body to her face. She sees nothing in him, not amusement or satisfaction, not hatred or remorse, and yet he comes to lay beside her, turning her onto her side, settling against her back and putting his arms around her.

She allows it, too used to the feeling of lying in his bed, too used to the scent of sweat and smoke and lavender. 

Aemond’s chambers are ruled by order, every book has its place on a shelf, he does not leave papers, clothes or used cups of wine lying around. The bedchamber lies on the south side of the castle, with a balcony overlooking the bay where two of them used to watch the ships leaving the harbour. She likes the intricate tapestries, scenes of Valryian mythology, and his fondness for the colour blue. Even if she cannot see most of it in the dark of night, the silence and stillness is comforting.

“Lord Corlys’ ship was attacked,” she mutters, placing her hand over his, where his palm against her stomach. “We cannot be sure if he even survived.”

“So I’ve heard,” Aemond says, “I’ve also heard Vaemond Velaryon intends to challenge the succession of Driftmark, should the unthinkable be true.

“And I assume the Queen and the Hand will support him in this endeavour.”

Aemond’s chest stills. “They will hear the petitions and pass their judgement,” he says, quietly but finally.

“Then the decision has already been made.”

Aemond’s breathing is deep, her hair fluttering against her cheek as he exhales. Her mother has a similar way of scolding her without uttering a single word, as if to say the answer should be obvious.

With a scoff she pushes his hand away and drags herself out of the bed. The cold air stings her skin and she makes short work of finding her night shift, discarded on the floor, and dressing herself.

“Lucerys has no claim to Driftmark,” Aemond says from the bed.

“And why is that?” she says shortly, grabbing her shoes from the foot of the bed.

He won’t say it, but the word is there, in the way he teases Jace, the way his family watch her and her brothers and stare at them across the throne room with nothing but disgust. It’s there in his indifference towards her beyond the walls of his bedchamber, avoiding eye contact, muttering under his breath, insults and backhanded compliments. But the last time he said it, it cost him his eye.

She turns to face him, a defiant glare through the darkness now that some of the candles have started to burn out. 

“Coward,” she whispers.

He does claim to disagree.

With her shoes on, she moves towards the hidden door without sparing him another glance.

But she hears a ruffle of fabric, his feet against the floor as he follows her. His hand closes around her arm, hard enough it feels as though it might leave a bruise. He turns her into him, placing her back and his palm against the panelled wall.

“Stay,” he says.

“Surely you would not want to sully yourself, sharing your bed with a bastard.”

“But it’s different with you.”

“How? How is it different?”

He cups her face in his hands, begging her for something but never saying it. He leans in gradually, kissing her firmly. It’s easy to follow his lead, to let him slip his tongue between her lips, let him pull and tug at her delicate flesh, to feel him and lose herself to him. It makes her weightless all over again.

Once it was easy to love Aemond. They found friendship easily as children, even when they bickered and argued, because they could always forgive each other.

Some time ago she realised that love has always been destined to fade away, like summer changing into autumn, winter snows melting away with the spring. There is no place for it amongst the animosity between their families, causes they were born to, that neither of them will ever forsake.

Aemond pulls away but stays close to her, a hand on her waist, the other on her cheek. “I want you to stay.”

“And what then? What do you think could ever become of us?” The one-eyed Prince and the bastard Princess.

Suddenly she hates the stillness of this room, the weight of his silence in her chest. 

Aemond’s hand slips from her cheek, his expression falling from pleading to indifference. 

She leaves him standing there, bare chested and breathless, with no light to catch in the cut edges of his sapphire. She fades back into the shadows of the passageway, amongst the cold and the dark and the bones.

The rot has set in. The King will die, and both the Blacks and the Greens will seek to claim his throne. The empty space between her and Aemond can only ever grow.

Tags (comment to be added)

General taglist: @jamespotterismydaddy @theoneeyedprince @tsujifreya

[twilghtkoo]

pairings. jungkook x bookworm!reader (f)

genre/aus. fluff, established relationship

warnings. the word smut gets mentioned, jk in that fit

note. i’m a huge book lover and have been busy consuming all romance books in my free time and one part of my brain is just jungkook and another part is filled with all the romantic scenes that happen in the books i read and this idea came up :D lmk if u want more jk x bookworm!reader drabbles i actually loved writing this one so enjoy my brain rot,, likes and reblogs are appreciated ! stay safe <3

[ masterlist ]

—

“how’d you find this place, we’ve never been in this one.” jungkook notes, observes the surroundings of the small book store you both entered. floor to ceiling shelves filled with literature and writing of every genre, in different colors and sizes. warm yellow lighting from the lights in the ceiling and the battery operated candles that are placed randomly throughout the store. there’s greenery scattered along the walls and potted plants on the floor and one next to the register, creating a familiar, welcoming environment.

you can’t help but smile when you walk in. “i took a different route home from class last week and saw this place. i wanted to wait to go with you.” you answer, greeting the woman behind the counter with a soft smile.

you feel his hand blindly reach for yours from behind, you first find his pinky then interlace your fingers with his.

“it feels homey in here.” he thinks aloud, as both of you walk by a red worn out couch.

you lead him through the aisles one by one, not having any interest in the specific genres besides your favorite, but looking at the filled shelves brings you comfort.

“oh! they have comics here.” he points to the aisle across from you and now he’s taking the lead.

a comforting silence falls between you both as you skim through each shelf organized by the marvel universe, dc comics, video games and manga. from the corner of your eye, you see jungkook holding a manga in his hand.

“when was the last time you read one?”

he sighs, “i think when i was young, probably about six years ago to be honest. i don’t really have time now.” he slightly pouts at his statement.

you place your hand on his lower back before rubbing soothing circles. “i know you’ve read that one before. haikyuu,” you read the title out loud.

he nods, closing the book and placing it back with the others. “yeah i read like the first few volumes but never finished it.”

you both look throughout the manga selection some more before you manage to talk him into buying at least two volumes of jujutsu kaisen.

he holds the two books in one hand and holds your hand in his other.

you make it to the romance aisle, and immediately take your time looking around. you always feel overwhelmed in the bookstore and feel like you’re taking too long looking in just one section but jungkook always assures you to take your time and look, that he’s not in a rush.

you pick up a book and examine the cover and pages before reading the back, humming to yourself if one peaked your interest but not enough to hold onto it.

“do these have smut in them?” he blurts out next to you.

your eyes go big and you smack him on the arm. you look at the bright neon green sticky note that’s taped to the shelf with the word ‘spicy’. did they have to make it known to the world?

“would you be quiet?” you whisper-yell at him, trying to contain your laughter.

he rubs his arm where you hit him as his eyes blink innocently. liar.

he lets go of his arm and giggles, pulling you close to his side and kisses the crown of your head. “just messing with you.” he smirks.

you scoff, pushing him away lightly but failing because your boyfriend is 5’10 and muscles.

he lets you continue to look around and he does the same but not with a purpose. but he knows if he pretends to busy himself, you won’t feel rushed. and he wants you to take your time.

by the time you reached the end of the romance aisle, you’re holding two books in your hands. one hardcover and one paperback.

“that’s it? only two books you found?” jungkook stares in disbelief, his eyebrow arched.

“a hardcover is expensive.” you tell him. there were other books you found and wanted, but now that you know this place is here, you’ll stop by again one of these days after class and come back for them if they’re still here.

“babe, go get all the books you want.” he waves you off, but you stay put.

shaking your head, “no, i’ll come back for them one of these days after my classes.”

“go get them now.”

“kook, it’s okay.”

“i know it is, but i want to get them for you anyway. you got a new bookcase with more shelves and you need to fill it up.” he says, peering down at you softly but he’s not giving up.

you did get a new shelf, with your paycheck you decided to spoil yourself and get a new one that had five shelves instead of your three. you had a growing collection and you had a tower of books on your floor. you needed a proper space for them.

you bite your lip. “yeah, but i don’t want you-“

he interrupts you by placing his lips on yours, moving against your lips for only two seconds.

the kiss was so abrupt that it had you in a daze.

“go get the books, hardcover or not. i don’t care yn.” he used your name. not babe or baby.

you sigh in defeat, knowing you lost this battle. jungkook offers to hold your books and you let him, you went back for the books you wanted and carefully stacked them onto his hands. it was only ten books you found, but the stack reached to his chest and you felt bad.

“don’t give me that look, baby.” he tells you as you both make your way up to the front to pay.

the lady’s eyes go wide at the tower of books in his hands, but doesn’t say nothing and scans everything.

you inch closer to his side as the lady tells him the total and it makes you gasp. but jungkook is relaxed as the lady asks if we wanted to sign up to become a member and he doesn’t even bother to ask me as he gives her my number for the future. he finishes by tapping his card onto the machine and grabbing the two bags of books.

you thank the lady and you both leave the store. the sky now different shades of blue, orange and red.

“thank you kook, i really appreciate you.” you tell him thoughtfully, sliding your arm through his and holding onto it. he glances down at you with a soft smile, his piercings shining under the sunset.

he hums. “i love you.”

“i love you.”

[bubuslutty]

alt!gf x comics nerd!könig

Imagine an awkward comic book nerd König with an alt!gf way out of his league (according to him).

He works part time at a comic book store when he first meets her, he's in a corner arranging comics and manga when she walks in and his eyes widen behind his messy ginger long hair.

She's the prettiest girl he's ever fucking seen in his life and he can't take his eyes off of her. And so do the rest of the clients and workers in the shop.

She's wearing a tiny black baby tee with Miles Morales' Spider Logo on its front, the tee was tight and it looked like she didn't wear anything underneath it, and it was very short, that if she kept stretching her arms above her head too many times to reach for comics in the higher shelves, her shirt is bound to ride up to expose her nipples. Her stomach all down to a few inches below her belly button were naked, and a pair of tiny jean shorts hugged her waist and ass.

Then there was the jewelry, the chains, the arm warmers, gloves, leg warmers, mismatched socks with a pair of white and red Jordans, the headphones, hair clips and cute earrings that tied her outfit together.

She looked like a doll, like those pretty girls you'd see on Pinterest (König doesn't know that, though, bold of you to assume he uses Pinterest).

And König? Well, he was wearing a green t-shirt with the store's logo on the back and front, with a white long sleeved shirt under it, paired with a pair of loose ripped jeans and we'll worn white trainers. And finally, a black mask covering the lower half of his face.

She walked straight to the Marvel shelf, looking around with her hands crossed over her chest while humming until she gasped and got her hands on a comic with Spiderman 2099 plastered on the cover.

König tried his best to stop staring like a creep but she was just so hypnotising, he wanted to keep looking at her, maybe ask her name, what she likes to read–

Don't get ahead of yourself, König, have you seen her and seen yourself?

König's shoulders slumped as he watched her flip through the comic with a smile on her glossy lips, and his heart jumped when she met his eyes.

Shit.

König internally panicked and turned his head towards the shelf he was organizing and adding in new comics to be sold while his heart beat quickly in his chest. He gulped and his hand trembled when he heard shuffling and footsteps getting louder towards him over the sound of some random anime opening from the speakers in the shop.

"Excuse me?"

König tried not to flinch and slowly turned around and looked down at the owner of the voice, a bead of sweat running down the side of his face when he was face to face with the same girl he was gawking at.

"Yes?" König replied, masking his nervousness with a monotone voice.

"Can you get me a comic from the top shelf? I can't reach.." She asked, looking him over not so subtly and tilted her head to the side, adding a small, "Please?" at the end of her sentence.

"Where?" König asked and her eyes lit up. She turned around and led him straight to the shelf and told him the comic she was after as König easily reached for it and handed it over.

"Thank you," She smiled and took the comic from his bigger hand, their hands brushing as he kept watching her through his hair.

"Do you read marvel comics?" She asked and König was surprised, what is she doing?

Making conversation with him?

But girls usually got intimidated by his build and his personality.

König cleared his throat and shoved both of his hands in the pockets of his loose ripped jeans, "Sometimes."

"Do you have a character you like reading about? You don't have to answer if you have work to do, by the way! I'm just curious and want to read more comics about different characters!" She said, toying with the Lego spiderman keychain hanging off her belt hoop, pulling her shorts a bit lower and König looked away when more of her lacey red panties were visible.

"No it's alright. I have time. I like reading about Venom and Moon Knight. And you? Who do you like reading about?..." König answered, his voice not wavering, not even once even if he was screaming in his head.

He hopes he won't scare her away due to the lack of emotion and interest in his voice, but he was internally nervous and that's the only way he knows how to hide it.

But it seemed like the pretty girl wasn't phased nor intimidated by König's tone of voice, or how he literally covered her in his shadow.

"I really like Moon Knight! And Venom too! But obviously, Miles Morales' Spiderman is my favourite…" She excitedly told him and pointed at her chest, where Miles' graffiti Logo was.

"What's your name, by the way?" She quickly asked, and König was a bit overwhelmed.

"König." He answered without thinking and blinking, staring at her with his pale blue eyes.

"Hey, König." She giggled and told him her name as she hugged the comics to her chest.

König didn't know what to say except give her an awkward nod.

"Nice to meet you. I'll go pay for these. And uh, thanks for the help." She said, biting her lower lip and fluttering her pretty eyelashes at him.

"No worries." He said and stepped aside so she could make her way to the till.

König was left buzzing and slightly breathless, he blinked and turned around to face a shelf with Batman runs to compose himself while she paid for her comics. Then he felt a small tap on his back and turned around.

"Sorry I just wanted to give you this." She said while holding a hair band in her hand.

König stared down at her hand without saying anything then back up at her face.

"It's for your hair…" She said in a small voice and König didn't say anything, just stared at her.

Then she coughed, "I just thought– I'm so sorry for overstepping, I'll go now."

König moved without thinking and held her wrist, making her eyes widen like a deer caught in the headlight.

"Thanks." He said and took the hairband, making quick work of tying his hair in a manbun, and now she could see more of his face, his pale eyes, eyebrows, freckles and small scars.

She smiled a bit and gave him a nod, "Bye, now."

"Bye." König said, smiling behind his mask.

[ghouljams]

Okay, what about an actual ghost Ghost? Like some haunted house type stuff? I mean the whole 9 yards. Dead trees, big creaky metal fence with spikes, ominously timed thunder? A weird old man that tells you to ‘stay away from that house’ before mysteriously disappearing. Not to mention the fact that the real estate person didn’t tell you about the long murderous history the house has and if you just so happen to stumble into a secret room? What’s the worst that could happen, right?

God, I need another au like I need a hole in my head but I am a Ghost fan first. Also I could not get this very specific image out of my head. Reader as a first time home owner who never thought they'd buy a house because the economy and all that, but this place is so cheap they just jump at the chance. And once they're in that's it, nothing is getting them to move, not even an ominous house with a murderous history. They're refurbishing the whole place, making it livable, even a Ghost won't stop them.

You sit in the middle of a salt circle in your living room watching the whole place fall apart. Your books ripped off the shelf, your lamps thrown against the walls your photos are falling off of, your furniture shakes and shivers menacingly, the whole thing reminds you of a self contained tornado. Spooky. Or it would be if you hadn't been dealing with this for the last few months. Horror stories get a little boring when you've been living them, daily monotony starts to kick in somewhere between the flickering lights and flying knives.

You lean forward when you hear your knife block tip over, steal embedding itself into the wall opposite you as your kitchen knives whiz past. He always gives you some indication before the dangerous stuff starts flying. Sort of soft for a dead soldier, you think. You sit back up, sniff and check your phone. You'd bet you have another minute of this at least.

"Can we speed up your tantrum, I have work in the morning," You remind your ghastly roommate. Everything pauses, floating in the air around you with an eerie silence. Then it all comes crashing down, everything in your immediate surroundings hits the floor. It reminds you of your little cousin throwing a toy on the ground because you threatened to take it away. Even your bookshelf tips over. That's new, considering it came with the house, usually your ghost leaves it up.

You sigh and push yourself to your feet, blink up at the proud shadow that stands behind you when you turn. Their shoulders raise and lower like they're out of breath, the action so thoroughly alive that you almost mistake the wraith for something human.

"Tea," he rasps at you.

"I thought you'd appreciate something new," You tell him with a raised brow.

"Don't like," He breathes, getting more than a single word out of your ghost is a slow -and rather recent- process, "new."

"Yeah, I'm getting that." You look around your house, your shared house, it's clear the previous resident doesn't appreciate what you're doing with the place. Your eyes set on the only untouched corner of the house. A little corner shelf holding candles and a cracked black mug, charcoal drawings with rolled edges and wilting flowers. "Fine," you relent, "no more coffee."

[alexbrainrot]

new pants / smut

sdv alex x afab reader

“hey farmer girl.. did you get new pants? you’re doing something right.” alex called out as you walked past him towards the library. you decided to ignore him and continued walking, you knew he was smirking to himself after making that comment. you were used to this by now.

you were wearing new pants, jeans actually. you went to the city last week to buy some durable jeans for all your heavy farm work, and you came across these, which fit you perfectly and happened to hug you in all the right areas. although you were somewhat flattered he noticed, you didn’t have anything to say to him.

you were indifferent towards alex. sometimes he was kind, giving you cookies his grandmother baked or helping you carry wood back to your house but other times he acted cold, brushing you off when you would greet him in front of others.

he was confusing, and it was hard trying to strengthen your friendship when he acted that way.

you hadn’t talked to him in a few days now, and this comment about your pants was the first interaction between you two in a while, although it was hardly an interaction.

you hated that his inappropriate comments secretly made you blush. you pretended to hate them, when in reality, your cheeks would heat up and your breath would quicken. you couldn’t deny his attractiveness, no matter how much he annoyed you. when he first started to slip in comments about your appearance or your body you became noticeably flustered, and you know that he noticed. you didn’t mind his words, although you did hate when he wouldn’t pay attention to what you were saying, too busy looking you up and down.

once you got inside the library, you greeted gunther and made your way towards the back in search of a certain book. it was pretty quiet, the only other people inside the library were elliot and penny. you had been searching for your book for a few minutes now and you were about to give up before spotting it in the lower middle shelf wedged in between two huge novels. as you bent over, you suddenly felt someone come up behind you, their body was pressed up against you and one hand was on your waist.

you gasped and quickly looked behind you to be met with alexs dark green eyes staring down at you. he put one finger up to his soft pink lips signaling you to be quiet. you were about to stand back up before his strong hands firmly gripped your waist.

“down” he whispered. you were still looking back at him with your eyes wide, curious as to what he was trying to do. you let go of the book and instead placed your hands on the shelf in an attempt to steady yourself. his hands were roaming your body, caressing your thighs and your stomach. his bulge was pressed up against your ass and you felt yourself becoming more aroused by the minute.

“alex.” you breathed out.

“shhh” he snapped at you.

“be quiet, unless you want them to see us.”

with that, you didn’t speak another word and instead waited for alex’s next move. he started to hump you from behind, rubbing his restrained cock up and down your ass. he bit his lip, trying to not make any noise, but fuck, was it hard. ever since he saw you wearing those jeans he couldn’t help but imagine ripping them off of you and fucking you right there. he became impatient and started to pound against you, making noticeably more noise. his eyes started to screw shut, he didn’t care about anyone catching you two anymore, he was becoming lost in the pleasure.

your panties were becoming soaked. the way that he looked, getting himself off and using you made you clench your thighs even more. the fact that you were both fully clothed and yet here you two were, becoming a mess for each other turned you on. he leaned down, close enough to whisper in your ear.

“fuck, you’re driving me crazy. you don’t know how many times i’ve fisted my cock to the thought of you.” he planted an open mouthed kiss on your neck and you moved his hand that was on your hip up underneath your top.

“please touch me alex, please.” you whined.

he realized that you weren’t wearing a bra today and began fondling your breasts. he pinched your nipple, causing you to let out a small whimper. his pace was quick now, desperate to reach his high. finally his hips stuttered and he paused, a low grunt escaping his lips. you could feel his heavy breathing as his body hugged yours. you two stayed like that for a while before you finally stood back up, facing him.

you noticed the wet patch on his jeans and he did too, glancing down at himself and then up at you. he suddenly felt shy, different from the alex who was humping you as if you were merely a toy just a second ago. you bit your lip and unbuttoned your jeans. he stared at you with his mouth agape. your hand gently grabbed his and placed it into your jeans, underneath your panties. you gasped once his cold fingers brushed against your cunt.

“i want to feel good too lex, can you help me?” you whispered as you looked up at him. he nodded, barely registering what was going on, his mind clouded with you and only you.

his fingers prodded at your clit, rubbing slow circles. his eyes watched as you buried your face into his chest, trying to keep quiet.

you glanced up at the clock, it was almost four now.

“shit, we have to hurry lex, please hurry.” you breathed out.

his fingers started to rub your clit relentlessly, the sounds of your wetness filled the library, it would be impossible for anyone to not hear.

“cum all over my fingers, baby.” he whispered and your hand clung onto his t shirt as you moaned against his chest and let go, your arousal drenching his fingers. you heard someone’s feet shuffling in your direction and quickly tried to recollect yourselves, zipping up your jeans and attempting to fix your appearance. alex stood behind you, like a little kid trying to hide after getting in trouble, although he was significantly taller than you. you both jumped when gunther peeked over.

“we’re closed guys.” gunther simply stated, his finger pointing towards the clock. he had a stern look on his face.

“we were just on our way out gunther, don’t worry” you replied.

“good. handle your business at home next time. i don’t want to ban you two from coming in here again, it won’t look good.”

you and alex stared at each other, your faces were cherry red. you quickly nodded and hurried out with alex’s hand in yours. he didn’t let go,he loved how intimate it was. his heart was beating rapidly and he felt like he was floating. you walked him to his house and were about to bid him goodbye until his grandmother opened the door.

“oh! it’s the sweet farmer! come on in honey! we’d love to have you over for dinner.” she beamed at you and ushered you in before you could even say a word.

alex laughed nervously, walking behind the both of you. it was going to be a long night.

[kenuis]

Come Through and Chill || plug!draken x fem!reader

You were just supposed to pick up some bud for the weekend... so how did you end up in bed with the hottest plug around?

Cw:weed, pussy eating, finger sucking, ptv, dirty talk, squirting, draken has a big cock (like coke can thick), belly bulge, pet names (baby, angel, good girl), not beta read (we die like men)

WC: 7.9 k I don't wanna talk about it.

Extra: Plug! Draken playlist.

‘Come through as soon as you’re off work, I got you.’

Blinking down at your bright phone screen you blink once, then twice. You hadn’t expected him to respond that quick in all honesty. “Hey girl.”

“Umm hello?!”

“Hey!”

You jolt as your friend calls your name, an amused tilt to her voice as she takes in your blotchy red cheeks. Tucking your phone away lightning quick you clear your throat, slumping back against the counter. “Are you sure you don’t wanna come out tonight?” Shaking your head, you cross your arms over your midsection as she tosses you a knowing smirk. You chew on your lower lip as trays of food and drinks whizz by you. Your legs and feet ache, hours of doing exactly what your co-workers are currently doing wearing on you. Your closest work friend raises her eyebrows as she leans her elbow against the shelf opposite of you. “So what’s the big plan then if you’re gonna be all by your lonesome?” You shrug, tucking your hands in your hoodie pockets, rubbing your finger over the ring that lays on your thumb. It’s a nervous habit you haven’t quite learned how to break. The spinning of the metal helps to center your thoughts as you stand there. You’ve already ordered a meal to take home after your shift, a bottle of wine in your fridge and endless hours of Netflix to carry you through the next few hours that will bleed into your first two solid days off in over a week. There was only one thing you were missing.  Your phone buzzes again and your eyebrows hit your hairline.

`1 location attached.`

‘No rush though, just wanna make sure you find the place okay.’

A place you’d been quite a few times if you recalled correctly. Sure the nights of partying were a little hazy, but you’d been to this particular spot enough times to know your way on your own.

‘I’ll let you know when I’m on my way, it shouldn't be too much longer.’

“Umm, just gonna pick up some smoke and then go home and veg. I’ve worked so many doubles over the past week.” It’s your co workers turn for her eyebrows to hit her hairline. Her smirk grows and the amused tone in her voice quickly turns to teasing as she straightens up to pinch your cheeks. 

“Ohhh you’re gonna go see that hot ass mechanic that was eyeing you up last weekend.”

You smack her hand away, trying to hide the way your face burns. “it’s not like that, I swear.”

“Suuuure.” She grabs your chin in her hand, squishing your cheeks together while she makes you look at her. “Is that why you gave him your number the last time we pulled through there? Cause you ‘just need bud.’” She giggles as she makes air quotes with the other hand. Letting out a snort, you manage to smack her hands away. “I’m serious!” Laughing you grab the to go box as the cook behind the window calls your name out. You grab what you’ve been waiting on and book it out the door, trying to ignore her hoots and hollers of, `it’s about damn time.` 

The night air is sticky, twilight blues and purple mixing with the fading pink and orange that paints the sky that’s about to throw her dark blanket of night over. Your keys dangle from your hand, jingling together as you walk towards your car. I

t’s a perfect evening, with most of the summer heat knocking out of the air the darker it got. Setting your food and bag in the passenger seat, you pull your phone out as you fiddle around with the stereo system. Bobbing your head along to the song that starts, you find the last message thread you had pulled up on your phone. ‘Draken’ complete with a little dragon emoji makes you roll your eyes.

‘On my way. Be there in 20.’

‘Perfect. It’s right under the mat, just like I said. Enjoy, angel.’

Confused. 

That’s the first feeling that creeps up on you as you walk down the hallway to his apartment. Usually it’s louder, a whole crowd that normally gathers here on Friday and Saturday evenings. There’s almost always music going, laughter coming from inside, the smell of food. It’s why you’d asked him to leave what you needed somewhere you could find it. The thought of being around tons of people after a long day of serving customers made you want to curl up in a ball, hidden away from the world.

Checking your watch you let out a small ‘huh’. It wasn’t late at all. 9pm glows up at you from your watch. It was early sure but still by now there would be at least some type of noise coming from the apartment.

Shrugging it off as you walk up to the door, you crouch down. Fingers brushing the rough edge of the door mat, you lift it only to find it empty underneath. Your brow knits together as you lift the entire thing only to find nothing but cold concrete staring up at you. Rising with a groan, you brush your hands off, watching as dust falls to the cement below your feet. Raising a fist, you almost hesitate, but as your foot hits the edge of the mat, another flash of annoyance shoots through you. 

All your weekend plans consisted of were your tv, your snacks, your wine and unfortunately, his bud. Letting out a sharp sigh, you knock, the rapping of your knuckles on the black door breaking apart the silence that hangs heavy in the hallway.

Rocking back and forth on your heels as you wait, you pull your phone out. No new notifications flash on the screen and you open your messages, shooting one off before you knock again.  You hear the chime of his phone and cross your arms over your mid section, waiting as you hear footsteps approaching the door. You turn your head to look over your shoulder, seeing that you’re still alone in the hallway when the door swings open, causing you to stop short and your mouth to dry out all in one swoop when you turn back to look at him.

The first thing you note is that he’s fresh out of the shower. A wafting scent of fresh pine, whatever scented soap he uses drifting across your nose. It tickles your senses, drifting into your nose. But that’s not where your eyes zero in. 

Your eyes flick down to the exposed skin of his abdomen. He’s in the middle of pulling on a black t-shirt, the material catching and sticking to still wet skin. Water droplets roll down the ridges of his muscles, carving a wet path that your tongue would kill to follow. His abdomen is on a brief display for you, each outline of solid muscle searing into your mind’s eye. The deep V of his hips seem like they were chiseled out of marble, something you would find in the finest art galleries.

Your eyes flick back up, trying to pull your attention away from the hard lines and dips in his skin. His shirt flutters into place but at this point none of that even helps. 

Wide eyes catch the dip of confusion in his brows, the way they knit together as dark eyes take in your form in front of him. Trailing down to see the frown that tugs at the corner of his mouth, pink lips opening and forming words. Forming words? Shit, he was talking to you and you couldn’t get your eyes off the droplet of water that trailed down his neck and clavicle, disappearing underneath his shirt. It warps around the gold chain that he pulls out of his collar and your stomach rolls at how insanely attractive the motion of his fingers and the sparkling gold against his skin is. “-okay angel?” Snapping your eyes to his, you swallow dryly . He raises a brow at you now, the tiniest upturn of his lips and the amusement that flashed through his eyes has you flushing. He definitely caught you checking him out. Finally your brain catches up to what he’s asked you. “Everything okay angel?” Blinking quickly, you look down at your feet, shoes scraping the doormat. It reminds you of the reason you knocked on the door in the first place. Looking back up at him, your lips curl over your teeth by a fraction. Frustration returns to your body, grounding you as you seem to snap out of your thoughts.

“Yeah uhhh.” The edge of your shoe catches the welcome mat and you nudge it. “I’m missin’ a little something.” His brows dip again, but then an exasperated sigh is falling from his lips and a light dusting of pink dances across the tip of his nose up to his ears. One hand comes up to scratch the back of his neck, his bicep straining against the arm of the t-shirt he’d just put on. His other hand tucks into the pocket of his gray sweats. “Fuck I got caught up. Lowkey I was supposed to put your shit under the door when I got home and I had to handle something on the phone so I forgot.” He looks so endearingly bashful, the annoyance that has settled in your chest dissipates like smoke. Awkwardly, you scuff your toe against the ground, shrugging as nonchalantly as you can manage. “It’s fine I just, was hopin to get it and go.” 

“Here, come on in and I’ll get it for you.” He moves to the side, a jerk of his chin the only hint of an invite you get to coming inside. Still feeling awkward inside of your own skin, you follow him in, arms still crossed like a shield. You offer him a tiny half smile as you cross the threshold, moving past him. There’s a crackle of electricity as you move past him that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up straight. 

Chewing on the corner of your lip as you turn to look at him, you find heated and amused onyx eyes trained on you, His mouth tugs up in the corner again and a smirk spreads across his cheeks. “Whatcha lookin so nervous for?” He moves past you, his movements, fluid and smooth. When he moves past you, he glances slightly over his shoulder with a wink. “I don’t bite. Come on, my shit’s in my room.” There’s a heat that crawls up your neck and face, and you’re sure that your whole face is on fire as you trail behind him, hands going into your hoodie pockets. You’ve left your shoes at the front door, and your socked feet pad quietly behind him. “Didn’t say you did. Just kinda weird in here when ‘s quiet.” He chuckles as he opens the door to a room you recall being in once. It’d been filled with hazy smoke, and there’d been people packed in here like sardines, passing around blunts and listening to bass heavy music. You also briefly remember that it’s the night he put his number in your phone. You’d been leaning against the desk that night, while he sat in his desk chair right next to you. 

At one point you’d been zoned out, sufficiently buzzed and listening to all the noise around you. A single finger had looped in your belt loop and tugged to get your attention. He’d checked on you, made sure you were good and given you water, watching with eyes that were more alert than they should have been for someone who had smoked as much as he had. His finger stayed hooked in the belt loop of your shorts the entire conversation and he’d only let go when your friends called your name, dragging you out of the room. But not before he’d tugged on your shorts, plucking your phone out of your back pocket. He put his number in and shot you a look that could only be described as heated. “In case you’re ever in need of some good bud.” Recalling the heat that had flowed in between the two of you, you want to bolt out of there like the entire place is on fire. It’s unnerving, it makes your insides hot and the feeling makes something in you burn specifically for the man in front of you to look at you the way he did just a mere week ago. “Yeah, ‘s a lil weird when people aren’t here but it’s nice to have a quiet night in. My roommates are both out tonight. Eatin’ at your joint tonight I think Did you just get out of work?” He takes a seat at his desk, turning the chair so he’s facing you. He pats the bed that’s pushed up next to it, motioning for you to take a seat. 

Hopping up, you nearly groan in relief at being off your feet and something so soft. His eyebrows raise as he pulls out a scale, a jar full of bud and a small green pill bottle from the bottom drawer of his desk. “You good?” If your face gets any hotter, you’re pretty sure you’re going to resemble the surface of the sun. “Yeah I’m good. Just had a long day at work. I opened the restaurant this morning and ended up staying later than I mean to cover one of the other girls who was late and…” You trail off with a shrug as you tuck your hands into the sleeves of your oversized hoodie. “I didn’t realize how much my feet hurt until I sat down.” “Mmmm.” He makes a non committal noise as he measures out product. Long deft fingers are fucking with the scale, placing a pill bottle on it and dropping little green nugs into it. “You said 3gs right?” “Uh yeah. Don’t need much, just a little to relax this weekend. I finally have a weekend off and I’m gonna take full advantage of it.” You grin despite yourself, thoughts of a freshly rolled blunt and food with a bottle of wine and the softness of your couch filling you with happiness. 

“Damn girl, look at you.” The tips of your ears start to feel the same heat as your face as he looks at you with a teasing grin. “Got any specific plans?” “I’m going to melt into my couch and not move for three days.” You bite your lower lip when he fully turns to you, a thoughtful look crossing his handsome face. He twirls the pill bottle in his fingers as he looks at you, eyes half lidded with an emotion you’re not sure you want to name. 

The both of you are friends, acquaintances really and you’re not entirely sure if you’re ready to cross the line to anything besides that. But the way he’s looking at you promises something inevitable. He holds the bottle out for you and before your fingertips even brush it, he snatches it back towards himself, a smirk planted on his mouth. “How about you start your relaxing weekend here?”

Your brows furrow and your lip sticks out in the softest pout. A sharp protest sits at the tip of your tongue and you can’t help the whine that comes out in your tone. “Hey!”

“How about… You start the relaxation now?” Your brow furrows as he speaks, confusion flitting across your face. You stare at him for a long moment, chewing on the inside of your cheek. 

“What do you mean?” “I mean, smoke with me.” He leans backwards in his chair, reaching for a pack of blunts. Honey white owls, the same as he had at the party. It’s a good flavor, one of your favorites and it’s so tempting to start now. His bed is soft and his room is surprisingly clean, and it smells like a mix of his cologne and extremely good bud. Plus it’s one on one time that you two have never had before outside of a stolen moment of him grabbing you a drink in the middle of one of his and his roommate’s parties. “Come on angel, I don’t bite and it looks like you could use the chance to unwind.” “I have food in the car.” It’s the only thing that comes out when your mouth opens even though the word ‘yes’ lingers on the tip of your tongue. “I don’t want it goin bad or anything…” Trailing off, when his onyx orbs stay planted on yours, you realize that any argument is futile and you sigh. The mega watt grin that he gives you speaks of his satisfaction over his victory and he holds his hand out. “Gimme your keys. I’ll bring your food in and put it in the kitchen for ya.” Smacking your lanyard in his outstretched palm, you can’t help but roll your eyes at his instance and the boyish charm that drifts across his face. In exchange, he plops a rolling tray in your lap with strict instructions to start rolling while he gets your things sorted. 

This is crazy. Absolutely insane that one smile from this male had you turning into putty in front of him and you grumble under your breath but get to rolling away. When he walks out it’s silent except for the sounds of the metal grinder in your hands. 

It’s a familiar mindless process of rolling, and you do it quickly and efficiently. By the time he walks back in with your purse in hand you’re licking the end of the blunt wrap to seal it. His eyes flick down to your pink tongue that sticks out from your pretty glossed lips. You don’t even notice as you’re focused on what you’re doing, brow furrowed cutely in frustration. 

“Lemme see how good you did ma.” Your eyes flick up to his at the use of the pet name at the end of his sentence and you give him a bland look that has his lip tugging up in a smile again. You hand him the blunt before leaning forward to place his rolling tray on the desk, not realizing as you do that he’s already walking forwards. Your shoulder bumps into his abdomen, the same chiseled one you spotted earlier when he was sliding his shirt on. 

You scowl when you hear his low chuckle sound throughout the room. “If you wanted to hug me that badly you should have asked.” Your lip curls over your teeth as he plops down on the bed in front of you. “You think you’re real slick aren’t you?” “I know I am.” He throws you a wink as he polyps down on the bed, leaning against the wall as you lean back against the headboard, pulling your knees up. Pulling a lighter from his pocket, he hands the blunt back to you along with the lighter. “Guests light up.” “Thanks.” There’s a soft shick of the lighter sparking, and then a sizzle as you hold it to the end of the blunt and inhale. Draken doesn’t say anything while you take your first deep inhale, instead opting to turn on the bluetooth speaker that rests on the shelf mounted to the wall above his bed. There’s a gentle boom of the system connecting, and then a few notes fill the room before music starts to flow out. Despite your reservations your shoulders relax a fraction as you blow out the smoke you’ve held in, the familiar pepper and citrus taste of the bud heavy in your airway and drifting over your tongue. You take another deep inhale, deep enough to make your lashes flutter and you’re completely unaware of the eyes that are currently glued to your face. 

Draken doesn’t think he’s ever seen someone as pretty as you. All soft curves and shiny locks. A pretty smile that stretches wide over your cheeks. The way your head tilts back a little when you laugh and your nose scrunches. Truthfully, he was floored the first time you rolled up with your friends at one of the infamous house parties. You looked so out of place, skittish and shy until your friend shoved a blunt in your direction and told you to relax. Come to find out there’s a little fire, a spark that simmers underneath the shy outer shell. He can’t help that you’re intriguing enough for him to want to know what it looks like when you strip away all the layers to where you burn. Burn for him. 

Your eyes open as you let out your second inhale and you lean forward, holding out the blunt for him. Your small, soft hands brush past his large calloused ones and the warmth that radiates off of them makes him want to groan as he thinks about how they would look wrapped around his length. He has to fight the temptation to grab one down while he places the blunt to his lips, right in the place where your glossed lips have been. 

The cherry flavor from your lips gloss lingers on the blunt, mixing with the flavor of weed and the blunt wrap. His mind drifts to the thought of what you would taste like. If he sucks your tongue, would you taste like cherry and bud and something else? He inhales and looks at you again through heavy lids. Truthfully he’d smoked half a blunt the minute he’d gotten off work, but the thought of sharing one with you was too tempting to pass up. 

When you’d sunk onto his mattress like it was your salvation he jumped at his chance and for now, he can tell he made the right call. 

Now that he’s got you here though, there’s a little bit of hesitancy that lingers in the pit of his stomach. It’s been a long time since he’s tried something like this with someone who’s caught his attention like you have. It makes his insides churn with anticipation and he can’t help but sigh out his inhale, the smoke curling out of his mouth. One of the first things he noticed about you is that you don’t have the need to fill the silence with empty words. You’re content sitting with him in the silence, and it’s something he appreciates after a full day of dealing with customers. He takes his second inhale before he’s handing the blunt back. His eyes stay on yours when he wonders when this.. Tension that’s been building between the two of you is going to pop.

It’s like a bubble that traps the two of you in it, but instead of expanding, it shrinks, pressing down and pushing you two into each other. It’s been a month and a half since the first time you graced his doorstep and he’s thought of you every other minute since. 

You’re about halfway through the blunt when you let out a sigh, sinking a little further into the pillows. You lick your lips and he tracks the way the tip of your tongue wets your plus mouth. Bloodshot eyes drift up to look into his, and he watches as a smile tugs at the corners of your lips. “Thanks for this. I really needed it.” “Any time angel. You know. You’re kind of my favorite customer. Although you can’t tell anyone else that. They might start askin’ for special treatment and then I’ll be outta a side hustle.” He reaches over and grips your ankle, tugging a little in jest. His thumb brushes over the pretty anklet dangling around it and the minute the metal hits his thumb something shifts. 

He traces the delicate gold chain, running his thumb over the tiny links. It glints against your skin, a little angel dangling from the chain and resting against the hollow of your ankle. A low dangerous chuckle vibrates through his chest even though the energy in the room is anything but light hearted. “Guess I was spot on with the nickname.” 

“Yeah…” Your voice is just as low as his, as if, if you speak too loudly you’ll break whatever tentative vibe has taken over the room. “Um Draken?” “Ken.” He mumbles it as he moves, leaning a little closer. He leans on his elbow with your feet near his abdomen, nearly laying on his side as he blinks over at you. “Call me Ken.” “Ken..” The sound of his name leaving your mouth in a near whimper does him completely in.

Before he thinks too much, before his nerves get the best of him, he places the blunt directly in between your lips. There’s not much left to it, maybe one last hit. “Finish it.” There’s a soft demand in his tone and the feeling in his chest gives way to admiration as you do exactly as you’re told. “Ash tray is on the desk.” He murmurs the sentence out as he presses his lips directly to your anklet. You let out a soft whine before you swallow dryly, half lidded eyes taking in the sight of this big broad man laying the softest kidd on your skin. “I…” “You can tell me to stop when you want me to.” He looks up at you, his nose skimming the skin of your calf. The sight of it, the heat from the weed and the overall tension pops as you shake your head. “Don’t… Please don’t stop.” Your cheeks burn even hotter than before when he grins a heated smile up at you. Your breath starts to come a little faster as he works his way up your leg, large, rough, warm calloused hands moving up your calves to the back of your knees, spreading them wide enough for him to slot himself between. His hands don’t stop moving, massaging your sore calves. His fingers knead the knotted muscles so expertly and gently, you can’t help but melt into the touch. Your eyes slide shut and your mouth drops open in a groan. The moment your attention is off of him, he takes his chance, grabbing you and sliding your hips forward. You yelp in surprise when your back meets the mattress and he gives another deep chuckle, one that shoots a bolt of heat straight to your core. You’ve always been touchy when high, when your senses are heightened to a point where pleasure gets overwhelming. You swallow thickly and open your eyes so they’re glued to his. The music in the room continues to fill the space where both of you linger, and you’re unwilling to break the vibe besides a groan when his hands move from your calves to the top of your thighs. Squirming despite yourself, your eyes finally fall from his to where the backs of your thighs rest on the top of his. He’s broad in between your legs and your heart jumps in your chest as he moves to sit back on his heels. Draken’s - no Ken -  is glued to the apex of your thighs, right where your clothed core rests. It’s right below his growing erection and the sight of you squirming underneath it makes him impossibly harder. “Fuck that’s a fuckin’ pretty sight.” You may have been unwilling to break the silence but a high Ken is also a vocal and touchy Ken. Reaching down, his hands skim up your thighs, over the flesh of your plush ass to your waist. He grips it hard, tugging you to sit up so he can slot his mouth against yours. Even cotton mouthed from smoking, it’s the sloppiest kiss of your life, His soft lips meet yours and he presses hard, claiming your mouth. He consumes you, prying your mouth open with his tongue. He strokes it against yours, one of his hands coming up to thread in the strands of hair at the nape of your neck. His fingers thread into your hair and he tugs, tilting your head back so your throat is exposed. A whimper leaves your throat and small hands come up to clutch at his forearms. 

You push back against him, tentatively letting your tongue meet his, stroke for stroke. There’s little strings of saliva that connect the two of you when he finally finds it in him to pull away. It’s lewd and wet, your eyes glazed over as they flick down to take in the sight. The hand on your waist leaves, coming up to tap on your lower lip. “Open.” The command is stern, growled out in impatience until you obey, mouth dropping open. You cling to the edges of your shyness, and as much as he finds it endearing, he’s waited too long for this. “Stick out your tongue.” You’re practically panting as you do as you’re told and two fingers are laid on the wet pink muscle, rubbing against it. Your eyes widen and another whine slides out around his fingers, muffled and wet. “There we go. Feels good doesn’t it?” This man hasn’t even gotten you out of your clothing and you feel like you’re going to cum already. How he figured out your oral fixation you’ll never know but he’s exploiting it to it’s extent, moving his fingers in and out of your mouth. All you can do is cling to him and suck, little whimpers and moans falling out around his large fingers. Your hips start moving on their own accord, rolling against him until he’s tugging you into his lap, settling your aching core over his tented sweats. His hand in your hair trails down to your hip, rolling you over his erection with a groan. Every noise you make spurs on his insatiable need, and even though he feels impatient, even though he feels like tearing through every layer of clothing you two currently have on, it’s nothing compared to the desperate way your hips are chasing your high. 

“Shhhhh.” The hand at your hip cups your ass, squeezing the denim of your shorts. The seam presses into your dripping core, the pressure of it and his length currently pressing into it with every roll of your hips makes electricity creep up your spine. Your eyes widen and you begin sucking his fingers even harder as the band in your belly starts to tighten. “Go ahead. Go ahead angel, show me how good this feels.”

Your eyes drift shut and your brow furrows just as cutely as he knew it would. A single tear gathers on the corner of your shut eye and with a shudder you come apart on top of him, just from him grinding you down on him and letting you suck on his fingers. He guides your hips against him the whole way through it, waiting until your mouth lets up on his fingers. Waits until the fierce sucking of his fingers eases into small kitten licks and your hips slow to a stop.

“That good baby?”

You can’t believe you feel this good already. Your mind is already halfway numb from a combination of the weed and his overwhelming presence, but a shyness lingers around the edges of your psyche and you can’t help the flush that takes over your cheeks. His fingers draw out slow, gentle as he drags them down your lower lip and over your chin. Realization of how easily he’s turned you to putty in his hands washes over you and your eyes widen a fraction.

Embarrassed, you lean forward, tucking your face into the crook of his neck. His entire chest rumbles with a deep laugh that sounds more like a rumble. “I.. I’m sorry I….”

He shifts, moving the both of you. Your world spins and all of a sudden you find yourself still in his lap, but now he’s got his back against the headboard. “That was the hottest thing I’ve seen in a long fuckin time.” Opening your mouth to apologize for a second time, you don’t even have the chance to say a single word when his mouth claims yours again. This kiss is hotter than the last one, a new burning passion to see you fall apart coming through every stroke of his lips. He swallows your whines, only breaking apart from you whip your shirt and hoodie off of your frame. You can’t even believe for a second that you let him, raising your arms to help. The sight of you sitting there in your pretty lace bra lights an even hotter fire in onyx orbs. Fingers dance up your spine while he brings his lips to your neck, kissing and sucking a line across your jaw and down your neck. You melt, hands slipping underneath his shirt to trace your fingers along the ridges of his abdomen. You trace every muscle with curious fingertips until you splay your palms flat on his stomach pushing his shirt up and over his head. “You’re so fuckin’ pretty.” The compliment flows from his lips as he sucks on your collar bone. You’re grateful you have the next three days off, because the marks he’s leaving are going to be impossible to cover up. Another soft whine leaves your lips as his tongue flattens and runs over the swell of your breast. The sight of it makes fire lick up your insides but a flash of silver in the middle of the pink muscle makes you stop cold. He has a fucking tongue piercing. 

Currently he’s using that to his advantage as he slides your bra off, gathering both of your breasts in his hands and kneading the fat as he pushes them together. “Pretty fuckin’ tits. Fuckin’gorgeous.” His thumb swirls over your nipple before he’s dragging his tongue over it so the ball of his piercing flicks it hard. You squeal, squirming in his hold. You’re tempted to dart out of his lap, roll off of him and take a breather but he bucks his hips up at the same time he scrapes his teeth across the stiffened peak and your head tips back, another sinful moan falling from your mouth.

He shifts and the world spins again, your back hitting the plush mattress as he leans over you, raining kisses down your rib cage, sucking on the skin so hard it bruises. He does this in a path all the way down your abdomen, and you never thought you’d be this needy after already cumming, but there is a pulsing want and ache that only he can fill pulsing in between your legs. You’re practically panting by the time he reaches the spot you need him the most. 

Your thighs are practically shaking when his big hands grab the back, pushing them towards your chest. A sharp nose runs up the seam of your shorts up to the button. “W-Wait, I…” “God you smell so fuckin good. I gotta taste you baby. Need to see how pretty she looks after she came for me.” Dark lashes brush his cheek bones as he looks up at you and pops the button of your shorts open with his teeth. You swallow thickly and thread your fingers into his hair, almost tugging it free from the ponytail it’s in as you lift your hips for him to slide your shorts off. 

The rumbling growl that leaves his chest makes your eyes roll back, and your weeping hole to clench around nothing. His thumbs come up to your folds, spreading them open for him as you buck your hips up, chest heaving with deprived pants. “Please. Please.” You beg without even really knowing what you’re begging for, just needing something, anything to relieve the fire that’s starting to consume. Your high still hasn’t worn off and the extra sensitivity from where his touch presses into you is driving you close to the edge. “Ken, please.”

“Look at me.” His rough tone is demanding, drawing your attention to him as your mouth twists in desperation. “Keep your eyes on me or I stop. Ya hear me angel?”

You nod, but his hand darts out to grab your jaw, squeezing your cheeks until you speak, your tone cracking a little with want. “Yes, I hear you.” “Good girl.” His eyes stay on yours as he dips down, releasing your jaw in favor for spreading you wider. He purses his lips, before he lets out a long string of saliva, thumbs spreading you open again so he can watch as it drips in between your folds. You clench even though you’re achingly empty, a soft gasp filling the air in between you too. It bleeds into loud keen when his mouth finally touches you. 

He sucks one of your folds into his mouth and your hands tighten in his hair as he alternates, sucking them until they turn puffy, swollen and aching with need. He moans into your pussy, running his tongue through your slick until the ball of his piercing flicks harshly against your clit. A squeal sounds from above him and he does it again, over and over until you’re bucking wildly onto his tongue.

He should prep you. He needs to prep you but your walls are already to spasm around his tongue and he’ll be damned if he lets you come anywhere but his cock. 

Pulling away and sitting up just enough to work his dick out, he thrusts forward, his heavy, thick cock smacking against your abdomen. Your eyes fly open and you look down, letting out a desperate whine when you realize his length extends well past your belly button. 

He’s got the prettiest, heaviest cock you’ve ever seen. Swollen and red, the slit weeping pretty pearls of precum that streak your stomach as he lets his length smack down on your abdomen again. “‘S not gonna fit.”

You look up at him with wide watery eyes, lips parted as you pant despondently. But no matter how much your voice shakes, your hips move, trying to slip him inside as desire takes over every cell in your body. “Ken, ‘s not gonna-” He chuckles breathlessly, sweat starting to break out on his hairline as he draws back to rub the aching head of his cock along your folds. “‘S gonna fit angel. Imma make it fit.” Slowly, he pushes in, head tilting back as he starts to push in despite the resistance he’s met with. You’re so fuckin’ tight he’s pretty sure that he’s already ready to blow his load and he’s only got the tip in. “Goddamn. Fuuuuuck.” The little high pitched whines that fall from your plush mouth and he can’t helo but reach down and grab your waist in his broad hands. Grip bruinsingly tight, he fucks into you, pulling out and fucking back in shallowly, inch by agonizing inch. Your pussy is gripped around him so tight it’s practically strangling his cock. “Relax ‘f me. God you’re so fuckin’ tight angel. Need you to relax.” A shuddering breath leaves your mouth, and his thumb drifts down to the little bundle of nerves that pokes out, working it in slow circles. Your thighs shake even more as you give. Your walls relax, eyes rolling back as his entire length finally sinks into you. A wet cry leaves your throat as tears leak from your eyes and the man above you lets out a moan so deep you feel it in your own soul. “There it is. Fuckin’ took the whole thing. Such a good girl.” Your hands grip the sheets, lower lip trembling as a tiny sob leaves your mouth. “Ken… so full. I’m so full. ‘S too big Ken. ‘S too fucking bi-” Before you can finish your sentence he’s pulling out and sliding back in, using the grip he has on your waist to drag you up and down his length. You cry out, loud and high as he bumps into your cervix. Your chest heaves and you squeeze your eyes shut as he starts to move you up and down. He’s so big and broad and strong all you can do is lay there and take it as he moves you up and down, eyes glued to the way your slick is coating his cock, how some of it sticks to his abdomen. Strings of slick connect the two of you as he moves you, practically the length of his cock, soaking even his thighs. One of his warm palms spreads out over your abdomen and he pushes down on the bulge that’s appeared. His mouth practically pours out filth as he pushes on his cock pushing through your stomach and you scream his name. “Fuck baby. Look at that. Pokin’ through your stomach. You look so fuckin sexy like this. So fuckin pretty all fucked out on my cock. You like that baby?” You nod, sobbing as he starts to move you faster, your clit hitting his pelvis with every rough smack of his hips. The orgasm that hits you, hits you out of nowhere, hard and fast and so overwhelming that you see nothing but pure white. “‘M cummin’ fuck fuck fuck fuck ‘m cummin!” Your legs kick out and shake as your cream around his cock, a frothy ring of white forming as he fucks you. He hasn’t let up, his grip still tight on your waist as he moves you, rolling his hips into and fucking you onto him. His head dips down into the crook of your neck, heavy pants brushing past the skin of your neck as you sob and keen through your orgasm. Your hands fly up to bury into his hair, moving until your arms are wrapped around his neck. All you can do is hang on as he fucks up into, using your body  for his pleasure. “Takin’ my cock so fuckin’ well angel. You were made for it. Made to take my cock.” His breath stutters on the sentence as your velvet walls pulse around him and you whimper, your nails digging into his muscular shoulders. His masculine scent envelopes you, and everything about him crowds your senses as he drives into you. The entire room is filled with the sounds of your slick squelching around his cock, the cries that fall from your mouth and the filthy words he breathes harshly into your ear. 

“I’m gonna fill you up. I have to. Have to fill this fuckin’. Perfect. Pussy.” Each word of is enunciated by  a sharp thrust of his hips and you practically wail out his name. 

“Can’t.. Can’t take anymore Ken please.” Bleary, misty eyes look up at him, blinking past tears as your body jolts with the force of each thrust. His pace is picking up and he’s huffing out deep breaths, and you can tell by the way his abdomen tightens that he’s about to cum. His thrusts are getting sloppier, but you’re right on the edge with him, walls starting to clamp down again. “Ken I can’t!” “You can.” He places a soft kiss right under your jaw, dragging his lips up until they’re resting against yours. “I know you can. Give me one more baby.” You try  to shake your head but your mouth falls open when a hand snakes between you two again and starts to make firm circles on your swollen puffy clit. “Ken.. please I…” 

Your cheeks heat and your hiccup out an embarrassed sob. You’re not inexperienced by any means, but you’ve never had something that feels like this. That feels this overwhelming and good. You’ve never had someone who fills you this much, who hits every sensitive spot, whose cock is so big it sticks out from your tummy and pushes past your cervix with every sharp thrust. There’s a foreign feeling that’s settled in your stomach and it increases the more he plays with your clit and with every thrust that rams into the tight ring of muscle inside of you. Words tumble out before you can stop them and the minute  they’re out, embarrassment and lust flood you in the same instant and it makes you dizzy. “Ken please.. Feel like I’m gonna go to the bathroom!” A rumbling groan is the only answer and his thumb speeds up its pace, his thrusts sloppy. “Fuckin’ squirt baby. Squirt on my fuckin’ cock. I know you can. Make a mess ‘f me.” Another sharp thrust and a pinch of your clit sends hurtling into oblivion as you do just that. Your last release comes squirting out of you, coating his hand, his thighs, the mattress, his abdomen. You feel it run down the swell of your ass as you cry, your nails clawing at his back as you call out his name, sobbing and cumming as he doesn’t relent, panting and groaning into your neck. Hot ropes of cum start to coat your insides, filling you to the brim as he moans. It’s unhinged and messy, his cock head pushing past your cervix to coat your insides, filling your womb almost overly full. Your name leaves his mouth in a rumbling shout before his teeth sink into your shoulder, biting down to muffle the moans that leave his throat. 

His hips finally slow and he lays his forehead into the crook of your neck, his hands drifting down to your quivering thighs, massaging them as you both catch your breath. You let your palms lay flat on his broad back, running them up and down as little shuddering breaths leave you. 

Finally moving to look down at you, he blinks the sweat out of his eyes, brushing the hair out of yours. Both of you are a mess, covered in sweat and slick, your entire body marked with his love bites and his back scratched from your nails. 

Bliss and submission is written over your face and your eyes drift shut as his palm comes to cup your cheek. You’re so good for him, it makes his chest squeeze tight. He’s already softening inside of you, and surprisingly, you both still feel a little high, the combination of pleasure, euphoria and rapture making it that much more heightened. 

Both of you hiss as he slides out of you, moving so he’s hovering over you and bringing you to relax your legs completely. There’s a few moments of silence, soaking in each other’s presence.The air between you two settles into something you’re not sure you’re ready to name and you turn your head to say something to him, but find him already staring at you. He pulls you onto his chest, uncaring of the sticky sweaty mess you’ve become. His hand drags up your spine slowly, gently, and he pushes your head down so it’s tucked onto his shoulder. Ken is gentle as he continues to rub up and down your spine, grounding you and bringing you back down to earth. Humming contently, you drift until a rumbling laugh rouses you, and you move your chin until it rests on the top of his chest and you’re looking into those dark alluring eyes. Your hand comes up to trace the dragon tattoo on the smooth skin on the side of his head, following the inky black swirls as he continues to dance his fingertips up and down your skin. “So… wanna smoke again?”

All works belong to @ kenuis do no repost anywhere else without permission.

[scholastic-dragon]

This will not leave my brain so now you have to deal with it :)

Abe Sapien x Fem!reader

Falling Books

Warnings: SMUT, minors DNI, spelling mistakes, p in v sex,

The bookcase groaned with another hard thrust, Abes thighs smacking against your own.

You moan, broken and loud against his shoulder, arms wrapped around his neck, clawing at his scales for purchase. Your legs bouncing, hooked around his hips.

His hands each grab an ass cheek, holding you up like you weight nothing, keeping you at the perfect height for him to thrust.

Dress yanked up your hips, underwear pulled to the side, his tight swim shorts pooling at his ankles.

The wood of the bookcase shelves press into your shoulder blades and lower back, but you can't find a reason to care when he's pounding you so thoroughly.

Sharp, powerful, thrusts, bouncing you against the wall, knocking the air from your lungs.

Sweat drips from your face, down your neck, and disappearing down your cleavage.

Abe pushes you back into the shelf, kissing your neck, licking and sucking bruises into your skin.

"Abe," You pant, rolling your hips against him. Pulling your legs tighter against him, locking your ankles together to keep him close.

With a deep inhale, he presses his forehead to yours, not stopping his thrusts.

"Yes, my love?" He moans, big eyes searching yours.

Your voice catches in your throat, his eyes so full of love and admiration, looking at you like you were the most precious thing in this world.

Splaying your hands on his bare shoulders, you repeat the phrase over and over in your head.

Harder, please.

He nods, fingers gripping into the meat of your ass, pulling out to his tip. He waits a beat, then slams forward.

Bending and snapping his hips, he reaches a spot inside you that makes stars explode behind your eyes.

The shelves groan with your weight, books falling and clattering to the floor.

Some song is playing out from the speakers, you're not sure what it is. It could have been playing on repeat for all you knew. But it did its purpose so you couldn't complain.

Concealing your moans, groans, grunts and now the sound of the shelves banging against the wall and books thumping to the floor.

Pleasure rushed up your spine, making your chest and neck flush, a band building in your lower stomach.

With one strong hand, he holds you up, but the other snakes down to rub at your clit.

You moan and buck, cupping his face and kissing him hard, teeth clashing together.

"Don't stop, don't stop," You chant, eyes rolling into the back of your head. His name falls from your lips like a prayer.

The band builds and builds, Abes hips thrusting erratically, tumbling both of you toward you release.

"Abe!" You scream, body gushing around him, fluttering, clenching and gripping him like a vise.

He moans, pressing his lips to your neck, panting into the skin. He shouts your name, thrusting as far as he could, unloading himself in your welcoming body.

His hand leaves your clit, reaching past your body and hitting the shelves by your side.

His legs shake, thighs and hips twitching.

The shelf under his hand snaps, the wood cracking and sending a berage of books to the floor.

But Abe doesn't move, the books piling at his feet.

"That's gonna be tough to explain," You pant with a soft laugh.

"It's my library," He kisses your neck. "What is anyone going to say?" You both laugh.

He pulls back, sweaty, hot, and shaking with you in his arms. He kisses you, firm and loving and happy.

[silassinclair]

Hi!

Can I request Maddox with a darling who lives to read, maybe he catches her reading some old romance books in an abandoned house they shack up in or something like that

Btw I live your writing ♥️

As someone who loves to read I am obligated to write for this req 😤🫡 Thanks for the request tho!! Hope you like it :-)

Yandere Wild West Outlaw x Bookworm Reader

CW// Maddox is annoying, Reader being a little perv Masterlist Here!!

The new house Maddox found was lovely. It had decently okay furniture and a vast collection of old books on the shelf. It's small with only two bedrooms and one bathroom but it was charming. But what caught your interest was the big oak wood bookshelf. You couldn't even remember the last time you picked up a book. Being on the run with Maddox made time fly.

"Who would leave all these books behind? They're all in great condition." You mutter to yourself as you take a blue and purple book with gold trim off the shelf. Tracing your fingers down the spine of the hardcover novel you appreciate the craftsmanship. It was clearly expensive, something you could no longer afford. Your Dad bought you many books like these but now you were pretty much broke. You only had Maddox to rely on now.

Speaking of Maddox you had no clue where he was. Which you didn't really care, he always disturbed your peace. Cracking open the book you sit down on the loveseat and start reading. It was a romance book about a huntsman who fell in love with a duchess. The story was beautiful as it was exhilarating.

"Oh wow, you into that kinda stuff?"

You snap the book shut instantly, a mini cloud of dust poofs from the pages. Maddox chuckles huskily behind you, leaning down and resting his chin on the back of the loveseat.

"Oh don't be embarrassed princess, it was getting to the good part. What did it say again? Oh! Ahem-"

Maddox coughs into his hand and smirks. Deepening his voice he quotes the passage in a deep, British-like accent,

"He caresses the duchess' milky thighs, her womb felt of silk wrapped around his ma-"

"OH HUSH!" You whip around and smack the outlaw's head, his hat nearly flying off. But he only laughs at your flustered state.

"You're filthy." You groan and put the book back on the shelf where it was. But Maddox follows behind you and takes the book into his own hands and opens it up. Skimming through the pages he smirks.

"I'm filthy? Sweetheart you're the one readin' this junk." Maddox shuts the book and puts it back. Putting his hand up on the shelf he leans against it while looking down at your shorter self.

"Well it is a romance book." Rolling your eyes you choose a different book. This time you pick a title you're familiar with, Pride and Prejudice.

"Now leave me alone you brute. I'd like to relax for once." With that you walk away and go outside. Finding a nice tree you sit beneath it and read the book. Reading reminded you of home, the home that was ripped from you. In a way it was escapism which is unhealthy but a girl can dream right?

Hours pass and the sun begins to set, casting an orange glow across the cloudy sky. The words on the page become harder to read as the sun sinks lower and the moon rises. You didn't want it to end. You know you could read inside but that damn outlaw was inside. You just wanted to stay out here forever with the natural ambience of wind and birds.

Footsteps approach you and you already know who it is. Looking up you see him. Black denim jeans, a burgundy vest, twin revolvers around his waist, and a dark brown cowboy hat on his head. And of course that bandana covering the bottom half of his face. Anytime you asked him about his face he got ticked off so you avoided the subject. But you couldn't help but be curious.

"You're starin' sweetheart." His husky voice breaks the silence. There’s a hint of a Spanish accent mixed in with his Southern drawl. You can't help but think about what it would be like if you and him met under different circumstances. Would he save you from bandits? Offer to buy you a drink at the saloon?

Would you two have a storybook romance just like in the books you adore?

"Hey."

He's right in front of you now, crouched to your height. His gloved hand pets your hair and you're frozen. He has you in a trance that you make no effort to free yourself from. His dark amber eyes are crinkled in slight concern over your unusual silence.

"What..?" You say softly.

"It's gettin' dark. Unless you wanna be dinner for the coyotes then I suggest comin' back in. I'll cook up some beans so hurry your little bum up."

Well there goes the moment. You groan and get up off the grass, your back cracking as you stretch. Your eyes watch as Maddox walks back into the house. His hips sway as he walks, you never really payed attention to that before. His ass looks pretty round in those pants to-

"Ugh, what is wrong with me.." Groaning, you follow after him.

[catiuskaa]

Yeah, Flowers Follow.

You have always been committed to your duty at your mom's flower shop since she got hurt carrying bags of dirt over a month ago. It was mostly just you and the flowers, until he barged in one day, slapped 20 bucks on the countertop and with a passive-aggressive tone, asked: "How do I say fuck you in flower?"

because seo changbin + fluff will always have me in a chokehold. And a flower au? fuck yea, bring it on, babe.

inspired by this pin which I'll link here

edit: omg guys you loved this so much I just couldn't resist making a part two, still, this can be read as a stand-alone, although I hope you guy's like this one as much as its 'second part', which I'll link here

Word count: 5k. Binnie isn't mean, ok? He's just emo and tough-looking. And kinda introverted. fluff fluff fluff. swearing. kinda horny towards the end, but no spice added. Lol

You wiped your sweat from your forehead, rolling your sleeves up with a huff as you took back in your hands a big old water can. You watered the lilies and small ivies that remained outside of the flower shop, quickly waddling back inside for more water.

Your mother was usually the one who took care of Lilac, the flower shop. At first, it had been her and your aunties, but it all flew away after your grandma's passing. You had been young, so much that your memories of the time were mostly made of blurry faces that were not present in your life to this day. Your mom had been okay taking care of the small flowery world she built, but an accident with a heavy bag of dirt over a month ago made you complain. She reluctantly let you handle the store until her back got better, which was coming along slowly.

After watering the plants, sweeping the floor, pruning the bonsais, and preparing the several bouquet orders you had for the day, you ran out of things to do, settling to play some jazzy music while you reviewed your class’ notes as you waited for clients.

Your evening was quite calming. Clients came in like droplets, so the shop never felt too crowded. Most of them asked for flowers for their loved ones, some even speaking about their partners, how they had met, or the dates they were excited to have.

It was cute. You had always been fond of the small flower shop and shared the interest with your mom, reason why you didn't care about taking the lead for a while or doing your homework there. You loved the way the flowers brought people together, and the stories and meanings that they had behind them.

Just as you figured out the answer to that one question you had been stuck on, the bell rang, indicating someone's presence inside. Someone that approached you in a rather passive-aggressive manner.

"How can I say 'fuck you' in flower?"

Words that you had never imagined coming out of someone's mouth —which was something, considering the wide range that your imagination could reach sometimes—.

You carefully observed the man's gestures, who didn't stop scanning the place. Years spent helping out at the flower shop had given you a kind of sixth sense, one that allowed you to easily see through people's appearances.

"Do you have anything in mind, or do you not care as long as it is full of loathing?" You inquired with a sweet smile.

Changbin found himself suddenly falling into the harmony of your eyes without realizing it. You quickly left the books on the shelf under the counter, lowered the music and turned to him. Your eyes rested on his, brown and limpid, to which he adopted a belligerent posture in response, an action that —to his surprise— did not unsettle you. He quickly shook his head, focusing on the anger that remained inside of him.

"Make it striking. Something so colourful that can even hurt to look at." You giggled.

"Intense." He held back a smile, his lips twitching. "One second."

He stared at your figure as you went to the small workshop behind the counter. The feeling that Changbin had at first had nothing to do with what he was perceiving at that time. A pleasant floral smell, mixed with mint and lavender essence filled the building. It wasn't only the exquisite aroma that captivated the man, but the beautiful colourful landscape that that small establishment hid. The white wood decoration made any bouquet or flower pot stand out as if it were the icing on a cake. The large windows allowed a large amount of light to enter, and they gave amplitude to the small place.

It was a beautiful place, but strange. Peculiar, for sure, and it was due to the chromatic order of its flowers. Sorted by colour scale, regardless of the species. The red roses were with the poppies, the tulips with the clivias and the orange jasmines. The ferns, aloe vera and fittonias were also together, despite having nothing to do with each other. The coves, cherry blossoms and hydrangeas shared a common space that at first glance, they should not have. It was a beautiful chaos, but it was still a floral hustle and bustle.

"Do you like it?" You asked sweetly when you came back.

"It's not bad." He replied vaguely. "It's..." Ravishing "...small."

From his attitude and the way he studied the place, almost as if he expected some kind of danger to appear among the pots and leaves, some would say he was not to be messed with, but to you, he looked like someone rather shy and quite sceptical, nothing to do with what he might seem as, considering that tattooed bad-guy build and the killer stare that he carried around. A thought occurred that his somewhat murderous look did not allow him to say what he really thought.

Nevertheless, you could agree with him. Not only was it a small store, but it was a disarray of varieties. Nevertheless, to Changbin, above all, feeling watched all the time was something he was used to, yet your stare felt different, making him feel more goosebumps the longer he was under your eager gaze. He couldn't help it, but when you looked at him so kindly, he felt strange.

He wanted you to stop looking at him.

"Orders arrive on Wednesdays," you mentioned, already arranged behind the counter. "Shop opens at nine, so feel free to arrive whenever. I will need more flowers for your bouquet, so until then, I'm afraid I can't have it. Either that or..."

Changbin interrupted you. He couldn't stand to have those deep-coloured eyes immersing in his own.

"Wednesday is fine." He said in a huff.

You smiled, dimples on display. "Okay! Then as long as you stop by on Wednesday, we can arrange the bouquet. I'll be here, spraying water to the chrysanthemums, alliums and hydrangeas."

Changbin felt his chest tighten, his eyes wandering around your features, your dimples, your lips. He stopped himself, took back his cash almost in a hurry, and left almost as quickly as he had arrived.

"See you then, and thanks for shopping in Lilac!"

[☆ ☆ 💐 ☆ ☆]

Wednesday. The delivery truck was parked on the street facing the back of the store to unload the flowers you had ordered for the week.

To your surprise, Mystery —the nickname you had chosen for him, that sounded way better than 'fuck you flower boy'— came back precisely at nine am, and again, surprisingly enough, he wasn't alone.

He looked way more relaxed with his friend, the anger that almost shocked you looking long gone as his features didn't remain tense.

The bell rang as you were preparing the workshop for the arrival of the many flowers.

"Wow, this place is lit." His friend had good taste, judging by what you could hear.

"Thank you!" You mentioned with a cheeky smile, startling both men when you came out of nowhere. "Sorry, the truck’s outside, but I’ll be here in a minute."

You approached the delivery guy, who was opening the truck and setting the ramp so lowering the different flowers wouldn’t be too hard.

“Hey, Jerry!”

A comfortable chat took place between the two, who had met each other several times ever since your mom got hurt.

Inside, another conversation was happening. “Remind me, what are we waiting for, buddy?” Han asked as he wandered about in the colourful building.

Changbin sighed, frustrated at the reminder.

“The boss said something the other day I didn’t like. As a matter of fact, I despised it,” he grunted. “He looked at my desk and saw the bouquet I kept there, the one we got for that other show, you know?” Han hummed, paying attention. Weirdly enough, Seo’s eyes never left the backdoor you had gone through, not even when he continued. “So he mentioned how untidy my desk looked, how disgusting it would look when the flowers died, and hinted that flowers would look way better in his studio. It made me fucking angry. I don’t care if no one likes you that much to give you pretty flowers.” Han cleared his throat, allowing Changbin to return from his hating cloud. “Yeah. Uh. So we’re here to plan his bouquet.”

“Sheesh, I get that. The boss can be such an asshole sometimes.” Jisung mentioned vaguely. “But why nine am?”

Because I needed the excuse to see her. “I want to get this over with. If I’m lucky, he’ll even brag about the flowers.” He smirked, hiding his true intentions.

He suddenly heard some giggles through the door you had crossed. Han arched his brows.

“So you offered to pay for coffee and takeaway tonight for me just so I’d come with you here only to get flowers for the big man? Really?” He said, faking innocence as he settled his elbows on the counter, holding his cheeks in his hands, almost like a toddler.

He gave Han a side-eye. He shrugged. “Give me one more sign, and I might start thinking that…”

Bin covered his mouth. “Don’t. And that also goes to don’t lick it, or I’ll make sure Minho air fries you.”

Jisung lifted his hands, giving up. “I wonder what’s going on back there.” He smirked, teasing.

Changbin didn't want to flutter around you two, but he knew that putting the flowers in the store wasn’t that hard. He clenched his jaw unconsciously.

"If I had known that you were looking for an employee, I would have come running," said the boy, putting his cap back. “If you are looking for more staff, you know where I am.”

"It's very kind of you, but I never looked for anyone in the first place. Mom wouldn’t even dare to accept it,” you laughed. “Also, I wouldn't bother you knowing that you have your own trade. In addition, I get to put my skills to the test, but I can get quite moody sometimes. I bite, you know.”

He arched an eyebrow. "Don't worry about any of that. Working with you would be a thousand times better than distributing flowers throughout the city.”

Maybe it had been how you laughed or the snarky reply he had just heard, but Changbin needed that man to leave. Now.

Your eyes landed on that buff silhouette who entered the inside of the truck. Seo continued to unload the flowers. You tried to finish the conversation, but the guy wouldn’t stop talking while there was a client of yours doing your fucking job. You grew tired of Jerry, and you got up inside the trunk, willing for the man to take a hint and leave already.

Han couldn’t believe his eyes.

"Oh, please don't," Jerry went up too. "I'll take care of moving the plants.”

"Don't worry, it's the last one.” You tiredly smiled at him.

You took the remaining bouquet and got out of the truck behind Seo while the delivery guy wondered when the flowers had been unloaded. You quickly said your goodbyes before you returned to the counter.

"Thank you for lowering the flowers, it was not your job yet you did it anyways,” you smiled shyly as you started preparing the table in front of you with different sorts of labels plus the diferent tools you needed. “Sorry for the wait.”

“You’re fine. Don’t worry.”

Han stared blankly at the man who scolded him singlehandedly every day he was late to the studio just by a minute. He then stared back at you, then at his friend.

No bloody way. Holy shit.

"For your order, I found something the other day I though you might enjoy," your smile widened, your eyes like crescent moons as you handed him a small book.

“Oh.”

It was an old copy of a book that read “The Language of Flowers.”

“Maybe you could search up in the insults chapter if you see any meaning that you think could suit.”

He looked at you and quickly back to the book so he wouldn’t drift away in your eyes like days ago.

“Yeah, fine.”

Changbin was not very talkative, but the bitter tone with which he spoke was unusual. Han could tell, years of knowing the man allowed him to feel a bad mood in the way he communicated. His gaze was more frivolous than usual, and he squeezed his lips as if he didn't want to say anything. Shockingly to him, you noticed and were unable to let it go.

"Is something wrong?" You questioned softly. “Are you upset?”

Changbin hesitated. Han gave him a soft kick where he knew you wouldn’t see it.

“Yes.”

You started slowly writing in the labels before you as he, at the same pace, passed the pages.

"May I know why?"

Changbin cleared his throat. Shit, why was he so nervous?

"That guy was just talking, and that's why I had to do his job,” he grunted.

"I... I'm sorry." You looked down, sounding sincere. “If I hadn't given him a conversation, he would have started unloading the flowers.”

It wasn't true, and Changbin wasn't an idiot. That guy wouldn't have taken his eyes away from you unless he didn't have enough time to finish his shift.

But that didn't matter to him. What mattered was that your voice didn’t sound the same when you talked about this guy. It didn’t sound right.

"What type of flower is a Forget-Me-Not?" Han interrupted, looking at the book, reading past Changbin's shoulder. If he continued like that, Seo may not scold him anymore. For a short time, at least. Maybe a week.

"Oh." You recovered your kind smile, and the knot that had formed on Changbin’s chest untangled as soon as he heard your excited tone as you showed Han the small blue flowers. “They actually import them, from Mexico! Did you know?” You asked no one in particular, the two men in the shop suddenly interested in the topic as you continued to blabber about flowers.

To Changbin, only when you talked about them, your voice seemed less annoying. Even pretty, he could admit —not out loud, obviously—. But he liked it, mentally classifying your sweet tone of voice into “I-would-listen-to-it-to-fall-asleep”.

No one would notice.

[☆ ☆ 💐 ☆ ☆]

“Dude. You are like, I don’t know, totally in love with her?” Han said as he took a sip from his takeaway coffee as he entered the recording studio and sat on the sofa.

In his mind, just because he hadn’t paid for it, it tasted ten times better, even though if it was the same he chose every day.

The accusation almost made Changbin spit his own drink. He stared at it, wondering if there could be something in it that could’ve explained why his face felt so hot all of a sudden.

Fuck, was it that noticeable?

“Yeah man, it is really noticeable.” Han smiled, surprised at his silent victory. “You look at her like Minho Hyung looks at his cats. It’s sickening, really.”

Changbin frowned. “I do not.” Jisung deadpanned.

“Says the man that made me third wheel in a fucking flower shop.”

“What are you guys bickering about?” Chan asked with a small smile as he got inside.

“Changbin is in love with the flower girl two blocks away.” Han teased in a sing-song voice.

“Fuck that.” Chan’s eyes grew big with emotion.

“Shit, he is.”

“Actually, Hyung,” Jisung mentioned as he handed Chan the other coffee he had bought, “I think she might like him back.”

Changbin coughed violently. The others smiled.

“Why the fuck would she?” He frowned again, his eyes not leaving his phone. “I literally met her last week and behaved like a piece of shit.”

Both Chan and Han smiled, knowing that by not refusing the allegation, Changbin was actually interested in Miss Flower Girl.

“Remember the analogy I made with Minho and his cats? Same shit goes for her. I’ve never seen anyone staring so intensely at someone’s eyes.” Han trembled, exaggerating. “Chills. Literal chills.”

Small hope was planted in Changbin’s heart, but he tried to shove it deep inside him. “Either way, after I go and get the flowers from her, whatever this is, is over. There’s no chance,” he shrugged.

Chan and Jisung shared worried looks. Despite what Changbin could show to people, he was a loving, sensible person. They both knew that if he had silently admitted the existence of a crush on this girl, it was because he meant it. And for a guy like him, who was often viewed as mean and rude or even dangerous, he usually chose to approach new people the less, so whatever was going through his mind meant a big deal.

Chan tsked. “Maybe it’s none of my business, bro, but after Hari, I’ve-.”

“Spare me the trip, Hyung,” Changbin interrupted in a low voice. “She’s been stalking me for months since I broke up with her. I really don’t want to hear it.”

Chan patted his back, a sad smile on his features as he looked at his friend.

“S’good, man. No hard feelings.”

After working on some tracks for a while, the topic was thoroughly avoided by the members, until Changbin sighed.

“Okay. You guys can stop your mind games.”

The others gave him a puzzled look.

“Whaddya mean?” The Australian wondered.

Seo let a small smile show as he passed his hands through his face.

“I really want to see her again.”

[☆ ☆ 💐 ☆ ☆]

So thanks to Chris, the bell in the flower shop rang once again. You were humming a popular song, one that Changbin knew, so instead of approaching you, he wandered through the isles filled with flowers, listening to you as you continued the melody.

His heart beat like crazy when after a while, he opened and closed the door again, pretending he hadn’t been there listening to you.

“Oh, hey, Mystery.”

Your smile made his heart skip a beat. The sundress you were wearing, along with the short brown apron, made him swallow dry.

“Flower girl,” he greeted. You lifted your eyebrows.

“That’s a change of attitude. What can I do for you today?”

Do me. “I was wondering if you could deliver the flower bouquet. Is that possible?” He asked politely.

Your dimples showed when you smiled at him, looking for a notebook in the mess that your study guides made.

“College?” He wondered, staring at your eyes daringly as he pointed to your books.

“Music major, final year,” you grinned. “For your delivery, write the address here, and I’ll deliver it myself,” you played with a strand of hair, quickly moving it behind your ear.

Chanbin’s hands tickled. He wanted to do that too.

“I wouldn’t do it usually, but I figured you wouldn’t enjoy seeing Jerry again.”

He scoffed as he scribbled in the notebook. You cackled.

Suddenly, a loud noise from the workshop startled both of you, who were kind of lost in the other’s eyes.

“Girl, are you still here?” Your mother asked loudly.

You facepalmed, mouthing ‘sorry’ to Changbin, to which he quickly gestured that it was fine.

“You ok, mom?” You replied.

“I’m fine! God, you spend your days here. If it were me, I’d be outside kissing boys!”

Your face turned red in the blink of an eye. “Mom?!” Changbin held back his laughter, covering his mouth with his hand.

She never answered, just chuckled teasingly.

Changbin quickly closed the notebook and gave it to you, his cheeks suddenly almost as red as yours.

“See you soon, I guess?” He smiled, still holding back a loud cackle.

“Stop laughing.” You snickered. “But yeah. See ya… eh…”

“Changbin. Seo Changbin.” He left, smilling like an idiot.

You opened the notebook as you raised the music’s volume again, blushing furiously at your discovery.

Along with the address of what you recognised as some well-known company and the name of who the flowers where for, he had left a note below it.

In case you want to go kiss boys.

Was that… his phone number?

[☆ ☆ 💐 ☆ ☆]

After closing the shop for the day, you stared at the flower bouquet as you were walking down the street, headed to where Changbin had written down. After figuring your way out with the maps app on your phone, you decided that taking your bike would be stupid, as it only was two blocks away.

The mix of colours was striking. At least, it had that. You hoped the person who would receive it would like it, meanings aside, considering you put effort into it.

The company was bigger than you expected. Before you could allow yourself to enter and look around, a security guard stopped you.

“Excuse me, miss, no one is allowed inside without a pass,” he explained.

You smiled sheepishly, scratching the back of your neck. “I was just here to deliver this…? I wasn’t told about this restriction, my client just said that I should deliver it in person.” Yeah, that was a lie, but he didn’t know that. “Would it be ok if I went inside? It’ll be only for a minute.”

He sighed, then shrugged. “I don’t think I’m allowed to let you pass…”

“Oi, Hyung!”

A somewhat tall man —at least taller than you— approached you two.

“You’re Flower Girl, right?” He said, sounding excited, failing to hide it. “She’s with me, don’t worry.”

You entered the company with him, but after that, you stopped and turned to him.

“I appreciate the help, but who are you?”

He smiled. “Yikes. Forgot about that. My name is Chris, it’s nice to meet you. I am close friends with Changbin.”

Your eyes softened, and you smiled. “Oh, I see.” You then looked back at the notebook you carried, the one Changbin had written down in. “Do you know where could I find Park Jin Young’s office?”

Chan looked at you weirdly. “Changbin paid for flowers for the big man? Damn.”

You giggled. “It’s not what it looks like. These flowers all have different meanings, and none of those is a good one.”

“Really?”

“Yeah! For example, the orange carnations?” You pointed out one of the flowers. “Those mean ‘I hate you.’”

Chan snorted and laughed at every meaning of every flower you gave him.

“Chan!”

He turned around to face whoever had called him, seeing Changbin approaching him, looking anxious.

“Chan, she’s fucking downstairs.”

Chris’ stare turned darker. Your heart tightened in your chest.

“Stay with her. I’ll go see if I can talk to security.” Chris managed to say before he rushed downstairs.

“Bin, is everything good?”

He noticed your presence, to which he froze for a second. Time started to feel slow. His spine locked up, and his shoulders stiffened. He even felt his shirt stretch in a sudden motion.

“Flower Girl.” You could feel the sudden state of relaxation he arrived, his figure visibly less tense.

You hesitated on what to do but then chose to act by instinct. Hugging him.

He tensed up again, the sudden act taking him by surprise. You tried stepping back, feeling like you had made him awkward, but he then pulled you in a bear hug.

“Thanks, pretty.” He whispered in your ear. “I needed that.”

“S’ok.” You smiled, a fluttering feeling settling in your stomach

He stepped away, shyness all over him. You smiled at him, but something changed as he looked at someone behind you.

Before you could turn around to see what had been the issue, he got way closer than a second ago, a hand travelling to your cheek, directing your face to meet his.

“I’m going to kiss you,” Seo whispered, just before he pressed his lips against yours.

Your confused self couldn’t manage the sudden emotions that ran through your body. You felt his tongue brush your lips, and you had to make an effort not to drop the flower bouquet when you started matching his pace, feeling him smile in between the kiss.

Concentrated on the man that had a hand on your face and an arm around your waist, you were too into it that you didn’t hear a woman gasp at the end of the corridor, leaving in a rush, crying fake tears.

Don’t get Changbin wrong. Seeing the girl that had tried to manipulate and gaslight him out of his music career just so he could spend his time doing stuff for her, things she took for granted, he figured the only way of making her leave should be a harsh one.

And okaaaay, he might have been dying to kiss you for a while now.

After texting Chan that she was gone, you both eventually arrived in front of the office.

He stayed behind as you entered, approaching a somewhat 50-year-old man with clothes as striking as the bouquet you had in your hands.

“Who sends these?” He questioned, his features suddenly looking younger when he smiled.

“Seo Changbin, sir," you bowed. "Have a good day!”

You couldn’t help but snicker when you closed the door. You found the three known men standing in front of you.

“So? Did he like them?” Han inquired.

“Pfft. I made that bouquet. Of course, he loved them.” You bragged jokingly.

The three of them offered to give you a quick tour, as it wasn’t common to have the opportunity to see the JYP building from the inside. Before you realised, it started pouring outside, heavy rain that looked like it wasn’t leaving anytime soon.

You cursed under your breath. If you even dared to walk under that rain, you would end up swimming your way home, your skirt and your blouse ruined.

3RACHA stood behind you, noticing that you were still at the entrance after a bit. Both Jisung and Chan ushered and pushed Seo to where you were.

“Is everything ok?” He asked, in a tone softer than what you expected.

“It’s just… ugh.” You looked at him, then tsked.

He froze when you got even closer, passing your hands above his shoulders. He had to hold back a shiver when your hands brushed his neck.

“Got no one to do this for you, I guess?” you gently fixed his collar, hands lingering on him more than they should have.

He couldn’t hold back a smile, looking at you differently, in a more intense way.

“I’ll take that as a no.” You ended the topic quickly, your eyes wandering from his eyes, then his lips, and back to his eyes again. You swallowed dry. “I can’t go back home with this rain, but my phone died, so I can't call for a cab or an Uber.”

He looked at you up and down. “Are you in a hurry?”

You stared at him, trying to match the intensity from before. “Not really. I just don’t have anything better to do. Why?”

“I’ll give you a ride.”

Neither Chan nor Han could say that Changbin was the messiest of the three, but he still was messy a generous amount. So when he got into the studio and picked up everything in less than five minutes, they gave him a look.

“Use protection, you bitch.” Jisung teased. Bin ruffled his hair.

“Fuck off," he chuckled. "See you tomorrow, guys.”

He guided you to the parking lot, and you both started driving.

Changbin’s grip on the steering wheel tightened when he noticed how your skirt rode up your knees when you sat down.

“Wait, I didn’t give you my address.” You realised, confused as to where was he going.

“I know.”

You looked around when he entered an underground parking lot, then parked and quickly got up to open your door.

He got really close, unbuckling your seat belt.

“You don’t need to be home tonight, right?” His eyes didn’t leave your lips when he asked.

“No.” You answered, almost in a whisper.

He took your hand as you got out of his car. Changbin walked with you to where the elevators were, hands still linked.

“Where are we?”

He pressed the elevator button and looked at you, even more intensely than later at the studio.

“My place.” He kept looking down at your lips. “I’ll take you home tomorrow.”

[☆ ☆ 💐 ☆ ☆]

You woke up the following morning with a warm body next to you, the feeling making you snuggle closer to Changbin, passing his arm and setting it on your waist.

The sound of a notification made you groan in a low voice, reaching for your clothes and grabbing your phone from your jacket’s pocket. It was your mom.

You didn’t arrive last night. Where are you?

You smiled and replied.

I went to kiss a boy, like you said.

You went back to bed, looking fondly at the man next to you.

A buzz from your phone made you wake up from your daydreaming.

Cheeky girl. Flowers follow?

You laughed. As a florist, your mom had made up the expression one day. When saying “flowers follow”, it meant that there would be a positive outcome of whatever you had on your hands.

You knew that to your mom, in this context, 'flowers follow' meant just one thing.

Yeah, flowers follow.

Yeah. You might have fallen in love with him.

Don’t you dare come back home without that boy. I’ll cook something!

“What’s got you all smiley?” A sleepy Changbin made you giggle even more.

He, on the other side, could definitely get used to a morning like that.

You left your phone on the bedside table, and then got close to him again, tangling your legs in between his. He poked your dimples, and you chuckled.

“You, silly flower boy.”

~Kats, who has the urge to put lil’ details in every fic, like how the flower shop is named Lilac, which means ‘first love’ in flower, or how the flower that Han asks about means 'true love'.

(if you ask me, she was humming Come Inside of My Heart, bc I fucking love that song)

[torukmaktoskxawng]

tsamsiyu ta'em - returning to your roots

Masterlist - part fifteen

Summary: Spider's decision leads to a brother and a sister's worst argument yet. Some things come to a head.

Pairing: Ronal/Tonowari/Original Female Character

Tag: #tsamsiyu ta'em fic

posted on ao3

Word Count: 20k+ (I am so sorry 🙏)

Overall warnings: mentions of torture, trauma/ptsd, vomit, slight body horror, canon-compliant, mature language, slow burn, polyamory, found family, cool aunt agenda, rushed, time skips, fluff, angst, major character death, child endangerment, etc.

Taglist (bold indicates "could not tag"): @motheroffae @undeniableadrenaline @mooniequeen @shit-i-say-shit-i-think @heart-an0n @amiets2 @slutforsmut4ever @yeosxxx​ @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @sucker4angstt @inolaphoenix @ilovechickenwings @tojisleftarm @andyfromku @ivysully @lightandshadow31 @jamie-poopoo @brittney69

A/N: Here it is... the ultimate Spider appreciation chapter. I couldn't afford to split this chapter into two parts like I did last time... so if you think some things aren't rendering on Tumblr, please please please click the link to the ao3 version. Enjoy!

Kayla would be the first to admit that she wasn't good at making her kelku feel like a home. Still a soldier at heart, she retained the mindset to keep her quarters clean, organized, and empty of any clutter. The only thing she owned was the weapons with the safety on, cleaned, and tucked away from sight, along with the little necessities she first packed for her trip to the reef, such as the hammocks that are always packed away every morning after a night of rest. As for Spider, all he had was the breathing mask on his face, the loincloth he wore, and the few packages of human rations Kayla and Jake had found for him in a drifting harpoon boat after their battle with the Sky People. 

So, needless to say, the marui pod Kayla was so graciously given by the clan leaders of the Metkayina looked more like what the Sky People would call a bachelor pad back home. At least, that's what first came to mind when Kayla took one look at her new home and decided something needed to change. She had a new place of residence and she even had a teenager living under her roof, a teenager who barely had anything growing up that he could proudly call his. Kayla decided that she needed to make this place look and feel more like a safe space Spider could come to when he needed to get away from the world, which is how Spider found her hours later.

"What's that supposed to be?"

Kayla looked up to spot the teenager in the entryway, staring oddly behind his mask at the object she was trying to put on the far opposite wall of the pod. She looked between him and the large branch which she had spent dedicated time to cutting and molding into a flat surface, before her ears lowered in embarrassment, "Uh... a bookshelf?"

Setting the long wooden board down on the ground for Spider to get a better look, Kayla huffed in exertion and decided she would have to find an easier way to hang up the makeshift piece of furniture she had created. 

Spider's expression only grew more confused as he looked at the warped plank of wood before stating the obvious, "You don't own any books."

"Yeah..." Defeat was already evident in her voice, already aware she had spent hours of wasted time on this project but had stubbornly hoped it would pull through. She stared longingly at the wood piece, ears still drooping with shame, "But I was hoping that putting other stuff on it would liven the place up. I guess it's not as homey looking without any books."

"Wait, what?" He cranes his neck up to look at her, puzzled as he crosses his arms over his chest, the knife cut barely even a scar now, "What are you trying to make it look like?"

"Nothing," she mumbled, now staring down at the makeshift shelf as if it had offended her. She was mentally kicking at it and herself for not succeeding in one stupid little piece of home decor. Realizing that Spider was still oddly watching whatever was happening to her face as she had these thoughts, she decided to straighten her back and head toward the exit, motioning the kid to follow her.

"You know what? You and I are always out of the house anyway. It doesn't need to be fancy. Let's go. I'm thinking of taking you kids out exploring."

Spider takes a moment to watch her leave before glancing back at the 'shelf.' Squinting his eyes, he shrugs and turns to follow her outside, "Cool, sounds like fun."

~~~~~~~~~

Kayla brought Spider to Jake first and asked about taking the kids out into the jungle, expressing how she wanted to show them the waterfall she had previously mentioned to her brother. Before he could reply, Jake was interrupted by Tsireya, who just so happened to be stopping by to see Lo'ak and Kiri. The reef girl expressed her excitement and claimed she knew the spot Kayla had mentioned and how she would love to go with. Of course, Kayla wasn't about to say no to sweet Tsireya, and that made Jake cave in and agree to let his children go with them. 

He watched the group leave with a small smile before getting back to work on strengthening a newly woven sheath for his hunting knife. He wasn't left alone for long as Neytiri had come home from a morning hunting trip she flew around the island. 

She had been silent at first, before looking around and asked, "Ma Jake. Where are the children?"

"They're exploring out in the jungle with Kayla," immediately, he felt the tension in the air, peering up to spot his mate looking fearful, her eyes glossed over in a way that made his gut hurt with guilt. He realized he should've waited until she got home to discuss whether or not she would be okay with letting their children venture out after everything they've been through, but he was hoping this would be a good step forward for all of them.

"They'll be fine, baby," he encouraged softly, "It's just like what we do on date night. It's not like I left them alone."

"I do not like the idea of them being so far away from the village."

"I promise it will be no different than when Kayla watches them at home. She's bringing them to a well-known spot to take a load off and have fun. Tsireya mentioned that she knew the place so it's not like anyone would get lost. They're in good hands."

Neytiri sucks in and lets out a shaking breath but eventually closed her eyes and nodded once in solemn agreement. Jake wanted to feel relief that she wasn't up in arms about this, but he couldn't find it within himself to feel that way. He knew exactly where she was coming from, where her thought process was. He couldn't blame her for being worried, the two of them both thinking the same thing as heavy, grieving silence filled the air. Jake immediately reached out to grasp Neytiri's hand and she clutched tightly onto him.

"Jake-- Devil Dog, do you copy? Jake?"

The sound of the long-range radio abruptly breaking the silence brings both Jake and Neytiri's ears and tails to perk up in alertness, and their eyes immediately harden to ones resembling warriors. Recognizing the voice patching through, Jake reaches for the radio and presses the device close to his lips,

"Dirty Falcon, I read you. What's going on, Norm?"

"Jake, we have a situation."

~~~~~~~~~

It ended up feeling like a school field trip as Kayla found herself with not only Spider and her nieces and nephew, but the other reef children they claimed as their friends. Once Tsireya had been invited, so were Ao'nung and Rotxo, making Kayla the single chaperone of six Na'vi children and one human.

At first, everyone could tell both the suspicious and curious nature the two reef boys felt upon being officially introduced to Spider, but at least they were civil, and they even looked surprised when Spider greeted them in perfect, proper Na'vi. It also helped that both Tsireya and Kiri were adamant about making Ao'nung and Rotxo converse with Spider, determined to make them all friends. 

Rotxo didn't appear to mind Spider at all, being the more curious one and asking the human teenager obnoxious questions that got Spider to laugh. Ao'nung, however, was a different story. He kept his distance and ignored Spider entirely, only nodding once in greeting the human boy and sticking close to the other kids he knew better. Even though the chief's son wasn't hostile toward Spider, Kayla still kept a close eye on him anyway. Tsireya and Kiri were good mediators of the group and took the lead as they traveled further and further into the jungle. Tuk was a breath of fresh air for everyone, constantly laughing and running circles around the group with excitement as they ventured further toward the center of the island, ready for a new change in scenery. 

It was Lo'ak who appeared to be the most estranged out of all of them. He had been quiet the whole way to the waterfall and only spoke when spoken to, faintly smiling whenever it was Tsireya who addressed him. However, Lo'ak was acting more closed off than usual and strayed away from the group as they walked. Kayla made sure to keep an eye on her nephew as well, knowing that his situation at home wasn't the most ideal. Lo'ak was purposely spending time out of his family's marui as of late, either seeking Spider out and hiding away in Kayla's hut with his childhood friend, or he tried blending in with the reef children and was constantly hunting or helping out with chores around the village. He was practically doing anything to keep him away from his family and especially his father, only returning to the Sully marui to sleep and eat.

Kayla noticed how Jake didn't address this as a problem, which is why she was keeping an eye on her nephew. Even though Jake claims to finally See Lo'ak, he is still treating his son much like before. If Kayla was anyone else, she'd leave it the hell alone, but she wasn't. And if she needed to be harsher to her brother about it, then by Eywa, she was gonna do it. She'd do anything for these kids, and that even surprised her to admit that.

It was easy for her to reach out to the children. Her nieces and nephews gave their hugs and trust to her willingly, without trepidation, almost immediately upon meeting her for the first time. Maybe because of that, it was easier for Kayla to accept their hugs and trust when she confidently knew they thrive on receiving touch as well as giving it. Even children who weren't as familiar with her, like the reef children, gravitated toward Kayla, either because she was unique-looking as an avatar, or she was just more laid-back and unserious compared to most adults they knew. For Spider, it was a healthy mixture of both.

For adult humans and Na'vi, it's different. Mature and aware of how the world works, Kayla would rather try to shield the children from the horror of life for just a little while longer if no other adult was going to do it. 

The waterfall was tall and led down into a quiet, beautiful lagoon. Animals scattered from their water hole when the Na'vi children appeared, and Tuk laughed as they ran away. Immediately, the reef children encouraged the others about what to do by shoving one another to get to the water first, jumping high, and splashing into the lagoon. Spider and the Sully kids laughed and soon followed, even climbing up to the very top of the waterfall to jump down from once Kayla was confident that the water was deep enough to do so. 

Kayla watched the kids play in the water while also exploring the waterfall herself, venturing into and standing in the small alcove hidden behind it. Curious, she whoops and lets her voice echo off the walls of the small cave, and the sound rang in her ears. She smiled as an idea struck her, heading back out of the alcove and rejoining the children. None of them appeared to notice anything until she approached them, first going to Little Tuk and pointing out the waterfall.

"Go behind there and scream and laugh as loud as you can. Come back and see if your sister heard you or not."

Tuk giggled excitedly at what she assumed was a game her aunt had in mind and ran toward the waterfall. The teenagers look between Kayla and Tuk curiously but don't mention anything as they watch the youngest child of their group disappear behind the waterfall. It took a few minutes, but Tuk reemerged, out of breath and grinning as she skipped over to her sister, "Kiri! Kiri! Did you hear me?" 

"No, I didn't," Kiri smiled encouragingly at her sister before taking a glance at her aunt.

Kayla smiles, tilting her head toward the waterfall, "You next, Kiri."

"Yes! You next!" Tuk drags Kiri out of the water by the hand, "I'll come with you! Let's try to scream as loud as we can, and if anyone out here can hear us, then we win!"

The Sully girls go behind the waterfall while the rest of the teenagers stare questionably at Kayla. She only shrugs, flashing a smile of understanding at each of them, "You kids have been through a lot lately... I thought maybe you'd like a place to scream out your frustrations without anyone hearing you. Only if you want, but I think you need to let some things out."

When Kiri and Tuk return, the other teenagers glance at each other with knowing expressions. Spider whispered Kayla's intentions to Kiri when she still looked confused, and in response, a grateful look took over Kiri's face as she nodded at her aunt.

Tuk was none the wiser as she ran up to Kayla, "I wanna do it again!"

"Go ahead, sweetheart."

"Will you come with me, Auntie?"

"Of course."

After that, one by one, each of the teenagers decided to slip away while the others were playing in the lagoon to have a few minutes alone behind the waterfall. When each of them returned, they appeared relaxed, lighter than before, and acting their age. Kayla internally pats herself on the back, calling it a success, especially when Ao'nung had loosened up and shared a short conversation with Spider.

If anyone noticed Lo'ak's eyes were puffy and red when he returned from behind the waterfall, they didn't mention it. They only smiled because he was smiling again.

They must have been there for hours, but eventually, Kayla called it a day and everyone was much too tired to argue. On the way back as they trekked through the jungle, Spider kept close to Kayla's side, instinctively keeping a watchful eye out as they walked through the trees, in case something decided to try and grab at the weakest link in the group which at the moment was Kayla with a sleeping Tuk on her back, making her slower than the teenagers. Something caught his eye while they walked, and it was Kayla's songcord swinging in the wind from side to side each time her leg moved forward. He noticed the cord was longer than he had last seen it, the end now sporting a wooden bead and a shell soon after.

"That's new," he simply states. 

Her ear flicks in his direction, and he watches as she looks down to see what he is referring to. Sunlight was right above her, casting a shadow over her face, but even Spider could catch a sudden shift in her expression. If he had blinked, he would have missed the shift. It was there one moment and gone the next, but he noticed a smile on her face, full of fondness, before she shook herself out of it relaxed her expression, and replied, "Yes."

The shift was all he needed to know, "Who gave it to you?"

She squinted her eyes curiously as she looked down at him, "What made you think it was given to me?"

"Answering a question with a question. Isn't that what you soldiers call 'deflecting?'" He smirked.

He didn't expect her to laugh, but he felt secretly pleased with himself when she did, "Touché, kiddo."

~~~~~~~~~

As they reach the village, the reef kids realize what time it is and decide to depart, needing to return home to their families. Kayla and the Sully children thanked them for their company and the fun day before waving them off and returning to their own marui.

Only, it wasn't much of a warm welcome. Upon entering the home, Kayla immediately noticed Neytiri's absence... and the murder set in Jake's eyes.

He huddled near the radio, waiting for the rest of his family to return home as he tried to figure out how he was going to break the news to them. In the meantime, Jake had sent Neytiri away to let out her rage and grief. He knew it wouldn't have been a good idea if she had stayed for this conversation. When Kayla and the children entered the kelku, Jake's murderous gaze immediately greeted Kayla. She froze when she was the first target of that glare, and once the teenagers saw Jake, they froze in the doorway as well, immediately scared with their backs straight.

Kayla kept still as she watched Jake's eyes. She only relaxed a little as she came to the conclusion that Jake's anger wasn't directed at anyone in particular, but he looked vengeful and was aging beyond his years. He looked like a broken man, a father who lost it all. He looked so grim with his eyes nearly staring up at Kayla through his forehead. She knew that whatever happened... it wasn't good.

She sets down Tuk and quietly asks Kiri to take her. She walks up to Jake and keeps her voice down in case he wants this kept between them, "What's wrong?"

His eyes flicked to the kids standing around behind his sister, all of them looking confused and worried other than the bleary-eyed Tuk. He glances back at Kayla and deeply sighs through his nose before deciding to keep his voice at a normal, steady tone. He thought the kids deserved to know, too, 

"Norm just called. They intercepted some RDA radio chatter. Quaritch is alive."

No one dared bat an eye as the news sank in, frozen in place and staring at Jake as if he had murdered a puppy right in front of their eyes. The air turned rigid and eery all around Kayla, the air sucked out from her lungs as though a bucket of ice water ran down her back. She swallowed thickly, trying to react as neutrally as possible... hoping that out of all the times Jake could possibly read her like an open book, this wasn't one of those times. 

Kiri's voice was the first thing that rang out, "Spider?"

Kayla's spell is broken and she immediately unfreezes, whipping around in search of the human boy in question. She finds him instantly as he reacts fast to Kiri's question, pulling away from the group and backing up toward the door. Spider looked frightened and ashamed, his breath irregular as he took one hand and grabbed the opposite elbow, eyes wildly flicking between everyone in the room, Kiri, Lo'ak, and Jake most of all. He looked cornered, despite the doorway now being directly behind as he would not stop backing away. He looked absolutely horrified, and the guilt only ate him alive when his two best friends stared at him with worry and confusion, unaware of the damage he had done.

"I-- I'm sorry."

Jake's eyebrows furrow and his tail twitched, "What--"

"It's not your fault. Spider," Kayla consciously places herself between Jake and Spider, finally finding her voice in the growing tension of the room. Spider turned his body and gazed to the doorway, ready to bolt as Kayla found herself raising her voice, "Look at me--"

The order makes his back stiffen and Kayla internally lashes at herself for ordering him around so formally like a soldier when that wasn't her intention. Slowly, however, Spider finally peered back up at her, and she tried to soften her gaze and voice, "Don't." 

Jake finally rose to his feet, his presence right behind his sister and making the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, "Kayla, what are you-?"

"It's my fault."

All eyes return to Spider, and he forces himself to stay still, the smallest one in the room. He keeps his eyes on Jake, trying to relay what he is trying to explain with just one look. Jake analyzed him, eyes slowly squinting in confusion until Spider could see something click behind those dull, yellow eyes. He saw the denial set in first, then the bargaining, then the anger... and then it stayed that way. Jake's eyes begin to harden, and Kayla is suddenly very aware of the raging volcano slowly starting to brew behind her but she refuses to look back. Goosebumps ran down her back and every instinct told her to run, but she kept her feet planted and her eyes on Spider, trying to talk him down from his ledge with just one look.

Lo'ak is the first to ask. He wasn't known for being observant, but as Tsireya had claimed, he was a quick learner. Lo'ak looked between his father and his friend and realized that something had happened. Something unforgivable. Despite possibly already knowing what it was, Lo'ak had to ask... in case he was wrong, "Spider... what did you do?"

Kayla felt a large hand completely envelope around the circumference of her arm and she winced when that hand gripped on tightly and spun her around. She bites back the yelp that nearly escaped her lips as she's being stared down by the enraged Toruk Makto.

"You knew?" Jake accused in a low, deep voice.

She couldn't help it. Her eyes widen in fear, for once, of her brother. As much as she wanted to lie to prevent him from glaring at her like that... she couldn't afford for that rage to turn onto Spider. She rolls her lips, her voice raspy and betraying her bravery, "I... Yes, I knew."

Something snaps in place inside Jake's eyes, a harsh growl eliciting from the back of his throat, "Come here." 

His grip only tightened further around Kayla's arm as he dragged her out of the marui, away from the children who now shook in fear of their father and for their aunt. Kayla wished she hadn't just been paraded around in front of them like that... secretly afraid as though she had angered her own father.

He pulls her out and harshly shoves her in front of him to confront her. Kayla immediately tries to bargain and plead her case before he could get any bright ideas, "But-- you don't understand--"

"Yeah? Enlighten me then," he snarled.

"You can't just ask a kid to leave his own father to die-!"

"You're not his mother, Kayla!" Jake finally roared, the volcano bubbling over.

"I don't care!" Kayla roared back as her fear gave way to anger. Suddenly the volcano was met with an unforgivable tsunami, "He's just a kid! All of them are just kids! You can't expect them to fall in line and be your perfect little soldiers for a war that YOU started!"

Jake seethed and pushed back, "He's old enough to know that he's responsible for his actions."

"Maybe, but even grown-ass adults refuse to admit their faults, present company included," the intended lashing hit dead-on, earning Kayla a wince from her brother. She didn't want to claim that victory over him, however, as the tightening viper in her chest began to unravel, "You say I'm not Spider's mom, and you're right. But you're not his father. Hell, you barely even father your own kids, so why should you father a kid who's not even related to you?"

"Don't you start--"

"You're a good dad to your daughters. Fine. I'll give you that. But you're too hard on Lo'ak, now more than ever. He just lost his brother for fuck's sake, Jake. You of all people know what that feels like!" She screeched.

"Lo'ak is the older brother now. He needs to learn to be responsible for his sisters."

"Oh, like how you were such a great, responsible brother after Tommy died?"

Even Jake's anger gave way to a slight feeling of discomfort and maybe even fear as Kayla suddenly began to laugh in such an unhinged manner, the maniacal grin she gave him sent chills down his spine, "Really? We're adding lying to the list now? Did you treat Lo'ak like a failure because he's reckless or because he's just like you? 'Cause, that's what I see. He's just like you, Jake, and that terrifies you because you know he'll screw up again and again. Just like you."

She took a step forward and Jake took a step back. He wished he hadn't, as his fear only made Kayla smile more, "So tell him that. Tell him the truth. Tell him how Tommy was the golden son, not you. You were never the golden son, not even when you became a marine and lost your legs for your dedicated service. Tell him how you were always the disappointment. Tell him how low you got in life when your brother was murdered and how you abandoned your sister when things got too hard."

Jake tried to regain the upper hand, needing to get this conversation back on track, "This isn't about me or Lo'ak. This is about Spider--"

"I wasn't finished," his jaw clamps shut when his sister's eyes bore into his, the viper in her chest now baring its venomous fangs, "You left me to die on that god-awful planet. From my experience, I know that Lo'ak and Spider would never even think of doing that to someone, let alone their own sisters. I believe Spider saved his father for the sake of being kind, compassionate, and merciful—three traits I doubt he inherited from the sperm donor. Spider is no savage. His doesn't kill as needlessly as you once did."

"He spared a monster's life--"

"Can you blame him? After what Neytiri had recently put that kid through?" Jake's ears lowered at the mention of his wife, and while Kayla wanted to be proud of her brother for always wanting to defend the woman he loved, she couldn't abide by that. She continued before Jake could even try, "Quaritch tried to save Spider from your wife. Can you honestly blame a child for saving the life of someone who was actually looking out for them for once in their young life? Yes, Spider may be young but he's also good. He wouldn't just let someone die, no matter how terrible and not if he could help it. That wouldn't make him any better than Quaritch."

"Kayla, I don't think you're hearing what I'm trying to say. Spider saved the man who promised he'd come after me and kill my whole family if I didn't kill him!"

Kayla's physical fangs made an appearance as she placed the blame entirely on a third party, "Then maybe you should've done a better job at killing him! I was there, Jake! I heard him loud and clear."

She finally closed the distance, prodding an angry finger into the center of Jake's chest as she seethes out, "You don't get to tell me how to parent. You don't even know how to parent, so you don't get to tell me when and where I can protect Spider. You can't even protect him from your own wife, so why should I trust that you have his best interest at heart?"

Moving around him, she definitely shoulder checks him on the way back into the marui, unaware of the wince that briefly succumbed his face, but he didn't react apart from that. He didn't even turn around. He only listened to the sound of her stomping feet, growing further and further away from him.

Kayla was on a mission as she sped back to the marui, only stopping her charge when Spider cut off her path, the human teen storming away as both Kiri and Lo'ak were seen exiting the kelku to chase after him, "Spider, wait!"

Kayla panics a little inside when Spider doesn't even react to his friends calling out for him. She reached out and gently grabbed his shoulder before he escaped too far, "Heyheyhey-- Spider? What's wrong--"

"Just leave me alone!" He screams and Kayla's instant reaction is to let go of his shoulder as if she had injured him. She took a step back like she had been shocked, frozen as she caught a glimpse of his face through his breathing mask, seeing the obvious red cheeks and angry tears uncontrollably slipping down his young face. 

Kayla tried her best to relax, regain her patience, and hide her anger toward her brother so Spider wouldn't misunderstand. Breathing deeply, in and out, she tried to speak in her best, soothing voice, "... Okay."

At first, Spider looked shocked before it immediately melts into anger and frustration, his teeth seething out his aggravation as he glared at her, "Shit-- Why do you have to be so understanding?!"

"I just-- I want to help you, kiddo--"

"Just leave me alone! Please!"

He had raced off without ever giving himself the satisfaction of seeing Kayla's expression crumble into defeat. Kiri approached her aunt at this moment, briefly grabbing her hand as she moved to follow her oldest friend, "I got this, Auntie. Spider, wait!"

Kiri continues to chase after the human teen, while Kayla helplessly watches them both eventually disappear into the center of the village, beyond her sight. 

Spider wasn't expecting Kiri to continue following him. He thought he'd lose her in the village, but by the time he reached the edge of the jungle and moved further in, he knew his attempt to escape detection was futile. Eventually, he caves in and waits for his friend to catch up, all the while he tries to calm down, his conflicted emotions fueling his panicked, harsh breathing.

"Please, Kiri, just go--"

"Sucks for you, Monkey Boy, 'cause I'm not going anywhere," Kiri immediately starts off when she finally caught up to him, placing a hand on his shoulder, "We just got you back--"

Spider huffs in disinterest, "After how long? Weeks? Months? Why couldn't-- Why didn't--"

Kiri could see Spider struggle with his next words. She could tell how angry, betrayed, and confused he was trying to express, and eventually, she figured out what he was trying to say and managed to voice his questions for him, "Why did we run instead of going to look for you?"

He didn't say anything, just trying to catch his breath. His silence was answering enough for the Na'vi girl as she continued, "I wanted to. Badly. But Dad believed you would be safer as long as you were away from us. And if we left, you would be even safer."

"That's bullshit." He glowered, still seething behind his mask.

Kiri's ears lower, a sentiment she felt in regard to Spider's statement. She had once thought the same when her father relayed that same excuse to her when he first told her that it was impossible to save Spider and that they were leaving the Omatikaya.  

She nods in agreement, "... Only a little. Dad thought that if we took off, then you couldn't tell the Sky People where we were."

The betrayal wins over control of Spider's expression, staring up at her with such pain and disbelief, "I would never--"

"I know. I know," she was quick to reassure while taking another step closer. She managed to pull him further toward her until her arms were fully wrapped around him, her chin resting on the top of his head. She lowered her voice to something soft and soothing, "I wish we tried harder, Spider. I really do, and I'm so sorry."

She moves her hand up to gently grasp the back of his head, "But Kayla didn't give up. No, she stayed in the forest and kept looking for you, even after we had left for the ocean. She was so determined to find you, especially after she earned her ikran. Dad said that she even wanted to go after you, alone, when they heard you were sited at reef villages in the south."

Silence followed and if he currently wasn't standing stone-stiff in her arms, Kiri would've thought he had fallen asleep. The sounds of the flora and fauna around them were calming all of Kiri's senses, and she tried to bleed that feeling into Spider, gently tightening her grip around him.

Finally, Spider caves in, his shoulders slouching in defeat until he finally allows himself to lean into his best friend's embrace. His thoughts sounded far away as he spoke, "I... I wish she found me sooner."

The words haunt Kiri, her mind trying to wrap around everything that those words could possibly mean. She squeezes him a little tighter as she mumbles into his hair, "Spider... what did they do to you?"

Silence filled the air once more until he managed to settle on one word, "Nothing."

Kiri pulled away and Spider winced thinking he had upset her. But she doesn't move very far, only so that she can meet his eyes, her hands resting on both of his shoulders, "War orphans stick together, remember? You're my brother, Spider. You may not be able to see it, but I wholeheartedly believe that. You can tell me no living being will ever know."

He wanted to tell her everything. So badly it almost felt like it could burst out of his chest at any moment. He wanted to share certain parts he initially left out when he tried catching her and Lo'ak up on everything he had seen while captured. He wanted to explain why he has nightmares, and why he's afraid of waking up in a cold, sterile room. He wanted to tell Kiri that he saved Quaritch for more than just pity or kindness. How the man, no matter how terrible, saved Spider's life more than once, or at least saved the boy from unimaginable pain and torture.

The thought of those white lab coats immediately sends Spider's mind into a spiral. That awful, bright, and blinding machine, spinning rapidly around his head, his eyes forced open to watch as he began to feel the blood drip down his nose... his memories forcefully being ripped away from him...

The only thing that stops his nightmares from continuing is the thought of Quaritch, the man who stopped that machine from eating away at the boy's mind.

Spider wanted to tell Kiri everything... but the fear of her not being able to understand was much stronger, "I... I can't... I'm sorry."

She squeezed his shoulders reassuringly, "Don't be."

"No, Kiri--" He corrected himself, letting out a shaking breath, "I'm sorry for letting Quaritch go. Neteyam-- Quaritch-- He held a knife to your throat."

"And my mother held a knife to yours. We're even."

It was meant to be a joke, but it quickly fell flat on her tongue once his posture changed right before the last of the sentence even left her lips. He bristled like a scared cat, eyes hard with a flat tone of voice that made Kiri instantly regret her words, "That's not funny."

"You're right. I'm sorry..."

He pulled away despite the hurt expression on her face. He pointedly avoids looking her in the eyes, "I think I need some space... please..."

"Okay. Just... whatever you decide to do, at least tell us first... Please?"

"Yeah... okay..."

~~~~~~~~~

Surprisingly, Spider finds himself alone for the first time in who knows how long, sitting comfortably up on a large branch while watching day turn into night over the entire island. He's met with the familiar silence he often found himself in back at home in the Hallelujah Mountains, but lately, he hadn't been familiar with the concept. It was likely that the last time he was by himself was when he found Quaritch at the bottom of the ocean and lifted him up to the surface. Ever since then, he was always in the company of someone else, either Kayla or the Sullys.

He wasn't sure if he liked it or not, if he was being honest with himself. He wasn't sure if it was because of his time spent with the Recoms, but it almost felt as though everyone in this village was keeping a close eye on him, even the Sullys, people he knew he used to trust with every fiber of his being... but now that trust has been questioned. 

He wasn't blind. He noticed how on edge Kayla always appeared when he and Neytiri were in the same room. 

He didn't want to believe he was a hostage, especially not with his childhood friends and companions... but it honestly didn't feel that different compared to when he was with the Deja Blue Squad. Spider didn't want to make a comparison, but much like the Sullys, Quaritch never let him out of his sight.

So, he took this breath of freedom to his full advantage, climbing from tree to tree, swinging from branch to branch until his arms and legs ached. He felt alive again, even laughing to himself. When he finally sat down to watch darkness slowly encompass the island and the bioluminescence come to life, he was able to finally breathe his own air, even if it was only through his mask. A moment of freedom, to be himself without walking on eggshells around everyone he was with. Then again, he knows it's not real freedom knowing that no matter where he went, he was stuck on this island with the Sullys, and maybe they knew that, too, which is why they're letting him believe he's alone, even if only for the night.

The paranoia was going to eat him alive, he was sure of it. The fact that he could no longer blindly trust the family he's always desperately wanted to be a part of was killing him. And now that they knew he spared Quaritch's life... he felt as though he could never let his guard down around them ever again. 

Apart from Kayla. Spider felt safe enough around her to believe she'd understand, and she did. She didn't fault him for his choice when he initially told her. Kayla was the only one who didn't truly understand the full extent of Spider's parentage, even though she had been told, but since she wasn't ever hurt by Quaritch the way everyone else who lived on Pandora before her was, she didn't have that pain that kept her from fully accepting Spider. 

Not that it was any excuse to neglect a child for the sins of their father. Spider knew that. He knew it was wrong, the way he had been treated, but up until recently, he couldn't fault anyone for it... or maybe he just never let himself believe he could on the off chance everyone would fully accept him one day. 

Hearing Kiri talk about how Kayla never gave up on him, how she searched for him relentlessly even when she had no reason to, made Spider feel both relieved and guilty. Relieved that there was at least someone out there who pitied him enough to know that he didn't deserve this and needed to be rescued, but guilty that she had to be the one to do so. She wasn't family to him. She had no ties to Spider and no reason to care for his safety and well-being, but she did, nevertheless. He wasn't sure how to feel about an adult who didn't have any familial relations to him all of a sudden give a damn about him, mainly because he didn't want it to be out of pity. 

Kayla clearly wasn't his mother. Spider had a picture of his mother taped to the ceiling above his bunk when he was living with his foster family for years. He knew his mother's face and he knew her name. Kayla wasn't Paz Socorro, back from the dead. 

... But he would be lying to himself if he didn't think about it. He had wondered a time or two if Paz were alive, would she be like Kayla? Worse? Better? He didn't know when he started comparing his mother to Kayla, but once he realized that he was, he was ashamed of himself and forced himself to stop. Spider didn't have a mother anymore. He wished he did, and that's why he knew he was allowing Kayla to look out for him a little too much.

In the eyes of the Na'vi, he could be considered an adult... but he wasn't Na'vi, as much as it pained him to admit it. He was human, and from what he's learned, kids his age barely had to worry about anything past schoolwork and who was going to take them to prom... whatever that was. He heard Kayla mention a prom once but wasn't fully listening. Whatever it was, it made Norm and Jake laugh, reminiscing their old human lives back on Earth for a little bit.

Kayla was a firm reminder that Spider was a human child and should be able to act as such. She's been trying to drill that into all their heads, adults and children alike. She wasn't exactly hiding it as she continued to berate how Jake parents his children and how he makes them grow up too quickly. Spider admired her for that... but almost despised it whenever she came to his defense because he knew he didn't deserve it. He didn't deserve to be treated or coddled like a kid... not after what he did.

He didn't deserve to be loved and cared for.

He sucked in a sharp breath, horrified by his own thoughts. Suddenly he was too scared to be left alone, and so he raced through the jungle and back to the direction of the village. 

It was late, so he thought if he snuck into Kayla's kelku, she would be asleep and he wouldn't have to try and explain himself. The thought of her catching him after he snuck out was both terrifying and... strangely domestic. He actually felt himself smile at the idea of Kayla berating and lecturing him for sneaking out and not coming back until the late hours of the night.

But that didn't happen. Instead, when Spider walked into the marui he'd been calling home for a little while now, Kayla was nowhere to be seen. He wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed. To ignore his conflicted emotions, he took the time to fish out his rations when his stomach rumbled in protest. He takes a deep breath as he switches his breathing mask out for the cannula nose tubes that are always stashed inside the exo-pack for emergencies, slowly breathing back out and in through his nose once he feels the familiar tickling feeling of oxygen run through his nostrils. 

He eats his dinner in silence, looking around the marui to find that Kayla's failed project of a "bookshelf" is still lying there, looking pathetic. His chewing slowed as he remembered how embarrassed and frustrated she looked when she wasn't able to make this pod feel "homey." He had been confused by her attempt to make this place feel more comfortable and home-like, and now, after everything Kiri told him, Spider wondered if Kayla was trying to do all this for him? For his sake?

It was suddenly hard to swallow his food and Spider relinquished the idea of eating, setting his rations aside and brushing his hands together. Something settles in his mind, determined and unrelenting. He forced himself not to overthink as he marched over to the sad excuse for a plank of wood and lifted it up, inspecting it. No, he wasn't known for putting together furniture that didn't come with instructions, but he wasn't thinking about it anyway. He was pretty sure the shelf was a lost cause and he could show Kayla how to properly decorate a Na'vi home tomorrow. But for now, he fetched his knife and began to carve out a small shape into the wood.

He had been crouched over his small project when Kayla had finally returned home, exhausted and after nearly spending all night worrying herself sick over the kid she placed in her care. She stopped in the entryway, however, when she recognized the small human painted in blue stripes, casually working on something in his hands whilst he rested on the heels of his feet, as if he had never left. Spider looked up at her entrance, and when Kayla peered down, she noticed his knife in one hand and a small, rounded bead in the other.

Sighing in relief, she stepped forward and knelt beside the teen, reaching out to gently hold the back of his head but stopped once she reminded herself not to do so. She pulled her hand back and Spider watched her carefully, trying not to appear cautious or worse, appear as though he wanted Kayla to reach out and comfort him.

"Spider..." She eyes him down with a careful inspection until she's satisfied that he's not physically hurt, "Are you okay?"

He nodded because he wasn't sure if he'd be able to lie properly if he spoke up.

Kayla relents after that, leaning back and breathing out another sigh. He goes back to work on his bead once he realizes she won't be asking any further questions. She watched him work instead, now curious once he successfully finished the bead and was now moving on to adding it to a familiar piece he kept on his loincloth.

"Is that your songcord?" She asked.

Spider nodded again, "Yeah."

"It's beautiful. What's the significance behind the new one?" She indicated to the new bead.

Spider paused, trying to figure out how to answer without actually giving it away. He briefly found himself glancing back over at the bookshelf he left in the corner of the room, the one Kayla had tried to make with her bare hands, the one she was trying to use to make Spider feel more at home, the one that now had a chuck missing because Spider wanted to commemorate it onto his songcord. Finally, he answered what he knew would be vague, but it was still the truth, 

"Safety." 

He bowed his head in shame, following up with a soft mutter under his voice, "I'm sorry."

With his songcord forgotten, she somehow knew he was talking about the events that transpired today and she immediately reassured him, "You have nothing to be sorry for, Spider."

"Yes, I do. I was such a jerk. Like you said-- you're only trying to help me. But I keep getting you in trouble with Jake--"

"Nope," she immediately shut that thought process down, anger blooming inside her, but not because of the teenager in front of her. She made sure her reassurance was heard loud and clear, firm and confident, "You're not. What Jake and I have going on has absolutely nothing to do with you, kid."

He carefully peered up at her, "... Family differences?"

She snorts dryly, "That's putting it lightly."

"Still. It's a little annoying that you won't accept an apology from me. You're a bit too understanding."

Kayla smirked, "Tough."

"I'm almost convinced I could get away with murder in front of you."

"I mean-- If it's necessary..." he's startled into laughing and Kayla smiles at the sight. She finally gains the courage to reach over and pat his knee, "I'm only human. To be human is to be flawed."

His laughter dies down, but the humor remains. He flashes a fox-like grin, his voice teasing, "Sucks for you humans, doesn't it?"

Kayla laughed through her nose as she feigned a stern, motherlike voice, "Okay, smartass, go to your room."

"This is my room!"

~~~~~~~~~

Kayla wasn't sure if Neytiri had been told that Spider saved Quaritch, but just in case, Kayla made sure that Spider was nowhere near the Na'vi woman and none the wiser so he could enjoy a good fishing lesson with the Sully kids and Tsireya.

Well, the Sully kids minus Lo'ak. Jake decided it would be a good idea for his son to join the adults in this discussion, much to Kayla's distaste. She wasn't sure if Jake was just being petty and rubbing it in her face, or if he genuinely believed that Lo'ak was grown up now and needed to be a part of this instead of being outside and hanging around other Na'vi his age. 

Nevertheless, as Kayla stands near Lo'ak in their family marui, Neytiri tries discussing what measures they'll need to take to send Spider home and Jake silently listens. Kayla made the smart choice to keep Spider away from the kelku today as Neytiri was nearly ready to go out on a tirade... hence why Kayla stood close to the door. Neytiri wanted to scream and curse when she initially discovered who was responsible for Quaritch's life, and then she proceeded to ramble about sending Spider back to the Forest, whether to leave him with the Omatikaya or have the Sky People deal with him.  Whichever option they choose, Neytiri follows up with the comment that Spider couldn't stay here anyway because he will run out of much-needed resources soon.

While Kayla knows that Neytiri is just trying to get rid of him, the Na'vi woman makes an excellent point. Spider needs human food, medicine, and of course other supplies such as spare masks, none of which are provided here and are limited to what she had stashed away in her own marui.

"What if they capture Spider again?" Jake tried to reason with his wife, though it wasn't for the same reason as Kayla, which angered his sister, "Now that he's been to this village, he'll know where to lead the Sky People for the next assault because they're not going to stop just because we took out the Recoms."

Kayla snarled, her arms tightening around her chest as she glared at Jake, "Spider didn't give away the Omatikaya and he's not going to give away the Metkayina."

"Of course, he would!" Neytiri hissed back, pointing an accusatory finger at Kayla before Jake could retaliate, "He's the reason my son was--"

"No, Mom. It was me," all eyes turned to Lo'ak and the poor boy looked as though he was holding back tears. His voice shook as he forced himself to continue, "I convinced Neteyam to stay and help me save Spider. If... If Neteyam didn't come with me, it would've been me instead. I had the gun. It should've been me."

Kayla carefully turned back to catch Jake and Neytiri's reaction, and she was not disappointed. Both of Lo'ak's parents appeared horrified, staring down at their son as if he said the most horrific thing imaginable. 

Lo'ak lowered his gaze, not wanting to read into what their expressions meant, whether his parents were horrified that he got his brother killed or if they were horrified that he would blame himself and wish the roles were reversed. Either way, he couldn't stand being in that room for a second longer, sheepishly tilting his head toward the exit as he peered up at Kayla, "Auntie... can I talk with you outside for a minute?"

She nods and doesn't spare a second glance at Jake and Neytiri as she follows her nephew out of the marui. She thought they were just going to step right outside the home, but didn't question it when Lo'ak decided to lead her further away.

Once they were walking along the beach, Kayla decided to be the first to address why he brought her here, "What's up, kiddo?"

"I... wanted to thank you for what you said to my dad yesterday. You stood up for me."

Kayla stopped in her tracks, dread prickling down her body, "You heard that?"

Lo'ak weakly chuckles, "You weren't exactly quiet. I didn't mean to snoop, I swear."

She paused to think about this before realization hit her, remembering how Spider stormed out the second she returned from her argument with Jake, "Was Spider listening, too?"

The Na'vi teen's ears lowered as shame crossed his features, nodding with hesitancy, "Spider... he was pissed at me."

"Why?"

"Because I wasn't angry at him."

Even that statement shocked her, tilting her head down to him, "You're not?"

"No, I..." Lo'ak exhaled slowly, guilt wracking through his mind while forcing himself to speak, "I want to hate him... I want to be angry at him for letting that monster live."

"But you're not."

"No. I'm not."

"Why?"

"I don't know," when she appeared unimpressed by that answer, he simply shook his head, "I'm serious. I don't."

She watches her nephew for a moment, his mannerisms as he looks down at his feet to hide away from the world. Slowly, she opened her mouth, "I might know. Because you already lost one brother and you can't afford to lose another."

Lo'ak's head shoots up in her direction, yellow eyes wide with eyebrows scrunching together. Kayla watched as his face began to crumble and shatter before she took a step forward and gathered the boy in her arms, shushing him softly as Lo'ak's body was wracked with soft, silent sobs.

He held on tightly to her, his voice so quiet and small, "I want to wake up, Auntie. This all feels like a bad dream; something I can't wake from. It hurts all the time and it won't stop. It should've been me... I wanted it to be me..."

"Lo'ak-- hey... hey. No," she softly comforts, her heart breaking at the state of her nephew, scared of what he was saying about himself but trying to be supportive, "Don't say that. You don't mean it."

"But I do! I convinced him to come with me to save Spider! He would still be here if it weren't for me!"

"Do you regret it?"

His cries stutter for a moment, shocked by the question as he tilts his head up, "What?"

"Do you regret saving Spider?"

"N-No."

She pushes back the stray braids he kept on one side of his head, "Even though he saved the man who was behind your brother's death?"

"I don't get it. Why are you trying to make me angry?"

"I'm not, I swear," she shook her head as her eyes started to warm and blur, the sight of her nephew so broken and grieving was a harsh reminder of the other nephew she lost, "I'm just saying... if you don't regret it, then I'd say it was worth it, and I'm sure Neteyam would, too. The fact that you would rather trade places with Neteyam than regret saving Spider tells me you don't blame Spider for what happened."

Her words both shattered and mended his heart, his cries slowing down with silent tears still running down his face. He squeezed her waist before letting go, stepping back to wipe his eyes, his breathing still shaking as he nodded, "Spider's my brother, too."

Kayla smiled gently even as her own tears slipped down her cheeks undetected, "Do you think Neteyam felt the same?"

"I think so. I just... wish nothing happened the way it did. One of the last things I said to 'Teyam before everything went to shit was how determined I was to save Payakan because he's my brother. Neteyam probably hated me for that..."

"He didn't. I'm sure of it."

Lo'ak huffed quietly, taking one hand and clasping it over his opposite elbow, "You don't understand..."

"How come?"

"Because you've never lost a brother."

Kayla's eyes widen, feeling as though she had just been slapped in the face, "Lo'ak... has your father never told you anything about your Uncle Tom?"

"N... No?"

She had never, not once, ever felt the kind of rage that just rolled in her gut, rumbling like a cornered animal. Kayla would later pat herself on the back for how quickly she had managed to shift her face into a clean slate before Lo'ak even noticed the shift in her eyes. Instead, she keeps her voice leveled, "You should ask him. Because I can tell you right now... he and I know exactly how you feel."

Either Lo'ak didn't catch onto what she was saying, or he was wise not to venture further into that viper nest. While his sobs had vanished, one stray tear still managed to slip past his detection, "Brothers forever. We should have been brothers forever..."

"Lo'ak, look at me," he does so, barely blinking when she reaches down to wipe away the tear. She managed a smile, one that showed her age as she expressed what she's known for a very long time, "The word 'forever' is not meant for people. People can't live forever. 'You know what does live forever? Memories. Stories. Songs. Those last forever, just as long as there's someone who will remember them. You and Neteyam will always be brothers, forever, even when you're no longer around, as long as there are still people here who remember you. Okay?"

~~~~~~~~~

The communal meal that night was lively and honestly, it was something the Sullys needed. For the time being, they kept the newest sign of danger to themselves and Kayla hoped that it wouldn't eventually bite them in the back. She knew eventually she and Jake would have to tell Ronal and Tonowari about Quartich-- then again, she could just have Jake do it. She technically didn't need to get herself involved as her brother could speak for all of them, but somehow, she had become the spokesperson between her brother's family and the clan leaders of the Metkayina. Kayla didn't volunteer or even detested it, but one day it just happened and she's been playing along ever since. So now that the responsibility fell onto her, she had been thinking of when would be a good time to speak to Ronal and Tonowari. 

Now would definitely not suffice as Kayla spots the clan leaders across the way, toward the head of the line of Na'vi eating amongst each other. Ronal and Tonowari were speaking to an elder, all serious and respectful, until Tsireya and Ao'nung joined them. Both leaders spot their children at the same time before gently dismissing the elder and moving to converse with their son and daughter, likely to hear about how their day went. Kayla watched openly, knowing that neither of the clan leaders could see her from her spot. It was a bit cowardly to watch them when she knew she wouldn't be caught, but she allowed herself to be selfish in this moment.

That is, until Jake interrupted her. He hadn't noticed what his sister was distracted by as he moved to sit beside her with his plate of food in hand. Once he's crouched next to her, the spell is broken and Kayla is suddenly aware of his presence and pointedly only staring down at her meal laid out in front of her. 

Jake takes a moment to settle in before speaking at a low level, "Whatever you said to Lo'ak... thank you. He looked more lively than before."

She hummed, unimpressed, "Believe me, he would've looked better if it was you."

"Yeah, well... according to you, I don't say the right things."

"As a brother, sure," she shrugged, uncaring and a bit too brutal with her words. She didn't have the energy to put a filter on it, "But you can't afford to be like that when you're a father. Unless you're trying to be like our old man."

"... That was low."

Her ears pinned back against her skull, pausing the small wooden cup of water she held to her lips before taking a sip and lowering it back down, "Yeah, I guess it was. You... never told your kids about Tommy."

Jake winced, and suddenly he was aware of the storm beginning to brew as if electricity was radiating off his sister's skin. He could feel the charge and resisted the urge to move away, "... No, I haven't."

"Are you going to now?" Her question wasn't curious or sarcastic. It was surprisingly calm, but perhaps that's what made it all the more terrifying, "They might open up to you if they knew you lost a brother once, too."

Jake found himself opening his mouth despite knowing it was a bad idea. Grace always did call him a jarhead for this, among other things, "I thought you'd be angry that I never talk about him."

"Oh, believe me, I'm furious," she eyed him up with malice in her eyes, a fire that couldn't be doused by any ocean as her own voice dropped low into something quiet yet venomous, "No one gets to defile my big brother's memory like that. No one. How would you feel if Lo'ak decided to never mention Neteyam again? How do you think his sisters would feel?"

Jake watched her face with what could be described as guilt, "You're right..."

And there they were again. At a stalemate. For a moment, things looked as though everything would get better between siblings. Now, it was back to square one. Kayla thought she could move on from what she felt regarding her brother, but when she's always so close to forgiving him, something always reels her back. Kayla was sure he was tired of this as much as she was, but neither one has been able to find equal footing, no matter how hard they tried to mend what's been broken.

Instead of trying to mend it even further, Kayla spoke as if she was resigned to it, "I'm sorry it's come to this."

He didn't need to ask. He knew what she meant, and he nodded in agreement, "Me, too. I was out of line the other day."

"You were scared. It's hard to blame you..." She shrugged, "Quaritch is still out there. He's your demon as much as Ardmore is mine."

Jake processed that for a moment, staring off into space before letting out a long sigh through his nose, "Well, the good news is we have the element of surprise. Quaritch doesn't know about you."

He didn't miss the way her tail rose to alertness or the way her ears suddenly moved to attention. She even looked guilty, eyebrows scrunched together as she cringed, trying to hide her face behind her drink as she spoke,

"Jake... Quaritch knew who I was."

He was just as alert now, "What?"

"On the ship, when we were fighting, he found out who I was."

"How?"

She reached for her collar, gently grasping the chain around her neck before lifting it up into the air, letting her dog tags slip out from underneath her crop top. They glimmer faintly in the firelight as Jake reads her name from the tags loud and clear in his head. 

"You were wearing them?"

"Old habits die hard."

Jake couldn't argue with that. He knows he was just as guilty about old habits. His hand rose to rub his eyes when he felt the muscles in his brows twitch from stress, "... I guess we're all going to have to be careful then."

"That's an understatement."

~~~~~~~~~

Another nightmare. Another night of trying to convince himself he was safe. Spider doesn't like the fact that Kayla is always so willing to talk to him about it, even though he knows that she's just doing her best. He knows he'll eventually have to talk about it, but for now, he'll continue to wake from his nightmares and refuse to talk about them when Kayla asks about them at the moment. 

This particular night was bad, worse than the rest, and by morning, Spider was definitely short with his tone and his patience. He kept to himself, not willing to talk or indulge anyone by proxy. Kayla decided that further irritating him wouldn't be a good solution, so she offered to leave while he stayed in the marui, stewing with his ill temper.

Kiri must have tried to draw him out because a short while after trying to talk to Spider, she found her aunt in the shallow water of the reef and helped her with the net she was throwing out while she shared her concern, 

"He was tortured... wasn't he?"

Kayla glanced at Kiri out of the corner of her eye, wishing she could lie to her. The only reason she didn't was because Kiri already looked confident that she knew the answer. As young as she was, she had already been through so much-- she wasn't naive about the world, which hurt to admit.

Kayla returned to her task, taking a deep breath, "Yes, I'm pretty sure he was. But he hasn't said anything to me."

"Not to mention what my mom did to him..."

It honestly shocked Kayla that it took this long to have this conversation with Kiri. She had secretly dreaded this moment that would eventually have to happen with her niece, knowing that it would be hard to comfort her while also trying to explain her mother's actions as neutral as possible, despite her own opinion, "That woman who held a knife to Spider's throat... that wasn't your mother, sweetheart."

"You haven't spoken to her very much." Kiri simply states.

Kayla's lips drew a thin line, "No."

Not only that, but Kayla had been actively avoiding Neytiri, only tolerating the other woman's presence if she knew Spider would be forced into the same vicinity as her. Kayla knew it wasn't entirely Neytiri's fault and it wasn't fair to blame all of Spider's trauma on her, but it was easier.

Kiri accepted her aunt's short reply before quietly admitting out loud, "I was scared."

"Of your mom?"

"Yes, but mostly for Spider. For years, I tried to convince myself that my mom loved Spider in her own way, and I tried to convince Spider, too. But then she held a knife--" She winced, lightly hitting the palm of her hand against her forehead, "I feel so stupid--"

"You're not stupid, Kiri," Kayla quickly reached out to take her niece's hand, drawing it away from her face, "You're an optimist. That doesn't make you stupid. Listen. Your parents love you. They'll do anything for you."

"Yeah," the thought of all those dead bodies, the fire, the explosions, the sinking of the ship, and of course, the fear in Spider's eyes, "That's what scares me."

"It is a scary thought... but I understand how they feel. I mean-- I know I'd do anything for you kids now, as cheesy as it sounds."

"It's not cheesy," Kiri faintly smiles, "You're family, Auntie. We know you only want what's best for us."

"Yeah?" She huffs in amusement, "Someone should tell your father that."

"Would... Would you have done the same thing? If you were in my mother's place?"

Kayla peered up at the sky, a little thrown off by the question but wasn't at all surprised that Kiri was curious. She had never thought about it before if she was in her brother's position. If she was in Neytiri's position.

"I'm not sure I can imagine being in your mom's place, sweetheart. I can't imagine what it's like to lose a son. It's possible Neytiri wasn't entirely aware of her actions. Or she was. Who knows? I just know one thing. If it were me, Spider would've never been in harm's way to begin with, I promise you that."

Kiri tilts her head up and watches the sky with her aunt, not entirely at peace, but content, "I think I can live with that answer."

~~~~~~~~~

Another nightmare and Spider couldn't take it anymore. He needed to tell someone something, and if it wasn't about what he endured within Bridgehead, then it could at least be something useful. After all, while the Recoms were learning how to be a Na'vi from him, Spider had been learning a thing or two from the Sky People as well.

He searched and found Jake and Kayla on top of the large mangrove trees, attending to their ikran, not wanting their banshees to feel neglected and unloved while they lived their new lives on the water. Everyone with eyes can see that the older Sully siblings are at odd ends with each other, but that's nothing new to Spider and the family. It wasn't any different from when Kayla first arrived on Pandora, so... even though it wasn't anything new, it was a little concerning that she and Jake were still at odds with one another. Although, maybe they were trying to get past it as they tasked themselves with the ikran.

Kayla smiled to herself while running a single hand down Thena's snout before she caught movement out of the corner of her eye. Looking up, her alertness melts into an open-minded smile once she realizes who it is, "Hey, Spider."

Jake looks up at Spider's name and nods in a short greeting before the boy steps closer, hesitant, "I... have to tell you guys something. I know why the Sky People are back. I know why they're here and I know what they're after."

Despite their disagreements, Jake and Kayla are still very much the first generation of Sullys on Pandora as they both turn to look at each other at the same time, then proceed to do the same as they look back at Spider.

"We already know they want to take this world as their own," Kayla replied.

Spider simply shook his head, "It's more than that."

Jake's eyebrows furrow, "They're not mining again?"

"No. Worse. They're hunting tulkun with a purpose. Not just to piss off the Na'vi. There's uh... a liquid substance found in the brain matter of tulkun called Amrita. Apparently, it completely stops human aging in its tracks."

"What?" Jake frowned. 

"It's worth millions of dollars. They told me that Amrita is what's paying for RDA's whole operation on Pandora. The military, the city, the labor force..."

Jake stares off at the distance, deep in thought with a grim expression on his face. Kayla doesn't appear phased by the news, unsurprised by the Sky People's motives. When Jake turns to her, she voices her resigned thoughts, "I told you. Earth was dying by the time I left. Things must have gotten even worse since then if they were getting this desperate."

Jake watches her carefully before nodding in agreement, "The olo'eyktan and the tsahik should know about this."

"I'll talk to them," Kayla volunteers before Jake could even move. She pulls away from her ikran and moves to the human boy, an arm out to guide him forward, "Spider."

The teen followed her lead without question, and Jake couldn't avoid the wary, cautious glances both his sister and the boy managed to glance back at him before they went back to the direction of the village. He's left alone to his thoughts and his attention-seeking ikran.

When they reach the chief's marui, Kayla insists on speaking her piece first, telling both Ronal and Tonowari about who Quaritch is and why he is dangerous being left alive, then she lets Spider talk as he explains why the Sky People were after the tulkun. Both clan leaders listen to both of them intently, and when Spider mentioned witnessing the death of a familiar tulkun and her calf, Ronal's hand instinctively rests on her pregnant belly, horror slowly dawning on her face.

"My Spirit Sister and her baby were murdered... for this?"

Spider's eyes widen, unaware that the tulkun he witnessed being butchered was actually the tsahik's Spirit Sister. Guilt rattles in his chest at the thought of Ronal's distress, unaware of Tonowari's large hand gently encompassing his small shoulder until the olo'eyktan spoke,

"You have done well to bring this to our attention, boy," Tonowari spoke gently, waiting until Spider peered up at him before he gracefully nodded once down at him, "Irayo."

Spider nodded back, unable to think of anything else to say other than an apology when he saw how broken the once stern tsahik looked, "I'm sorry I couldn't do more."

He says this while looking up at Ronal, whose ears pin back as she tries to contain her composure. She almost couldn't stand the pitied look the tawtute boy graced her and she had to look away. With whatever Ronal didn't say, Kayla made up for by placing her hand on Spider's other shoulder, opposite of Tonowari's,

"You did what you could, Spider," she gently consoled.

"She is right," Tonowari adds, much to Spider's surprise and Kayla's gratification, "You would have endangered yourself if you had tried putting a stop to the murder of Ro'a. You are small and have no weapons."

Spider didn't take the chief's observation of his size to heart, still caught up on the name Tonowari called the murdered tulkun. Spider didn't know her name, and somehow that made him feel worse. 

Kayla saw the look on his face and thought he was hung up on the idea of not having any weapons, "Something that I promise we will fix. Soon."

Spider simply nodded, still distracted by the memory Ro'a and her calf while absently muttering, "I miss my bow."

"We'll make a new one," Kayla squeezed his shoulder, "A better one, okay? Why don't you head back home? I'll meet you there."

He looks up at her, then Tonowari, then Ronal. He must have seen something curious as he tilted his head ever so slightly to one side. Spider looked as though he wanted to ask a question, but instead, he just nodded in agreement and moved out of Kayla and Tonowari's space, walking out of the marui while only occasionally looking back over his shoulder.

Kayla watched him leave, a little wary that she was sending him alone through the village until she couldn't see him anymore before turning back to the clan leaders. She doesn't appear phased about the fact that Ronal and Tonowari were already expectedly looking at her as she rolled her lips, 

"The other reef villages should be told the reason behind the tulkun hunting."

Tonowari bows his head once in solidarity, "I will send word."

Kayla nods and makes a step out of the pod, but she froze with one foot still in. Hesitant, she turns back to the pair, not making eye contact as she opens her mouth, "I need to bring Spider home soon. Back to the forest. He's defenseless and he needs supplies in order to survive on the reef... should he be allowed to stay here."

When she hesitantly glanced up through her eyelashes, she was met with an untelling expression on both of their faces. Ronal is the first to answer, taking a deep breath, "... Do you vouch for the boy?"

"I do."

They exchange a look that Kayla is too exhausted to decipher before Tonowari speaks as he turns back in her direction, "He's a good child. Loyal and brave. If he wants to stay here, he will need to learn our ways."

She feels a tightness in her muscles that she didn't know was there begin to deflate and relax, her lungs expanding more than usual. Her faint smile grew more, gratitude evident in her eyes, "Copy that."

Ronal purses her lips to refrain from smiling back, "Let me know when you intend to leave. I will be sure to provide any provisions you need."

"Thank you."

~~~~~~~~~

A few days flew by with not much to call home about. There was still a live mine of an aura around Neytiri, so everyone purposely kept Spider away from her. Instead, the Sully children would go to Kayla's marui to visit with him or to take him away for lessons or explorations. Spider was delighted to learn he would be taught more about the Metkayina's way of life after Kayla explained Tonowari and Ronal's acceptance of him. He didn't want to get his hopes up, knowing it sounded too good to be true, but he didn't want to let the clan leaders down, let alone Kayla, so he didn't say anything and eagerly followed Tsireya and the Sully children to any lessons they were just as eager to teach him.

Kayla tried her best not to chaperone these lessons, knowing that being a helicopter... guardian wasn't what Spider needed. So, she'd see him off every day to wherever his friends had planned for him and leave them to it, at least comforted by the fact that the Sully children wouldn't let anything happen to Spider, and Tsireya and the other reef children were starting to feel the same way.

That afternoon, she found herself running her thumb over her songcord, sitting down to finally come up with the lyrics to tell her life story. She struggled and didn't get very far by the time Tuk pranced up to her kelku.

"Hey, Auntie? Max is on the radio. He's asking for you."

Kayla smiles and gets up, placing a hand on her youngest niece's head, "Thank you, sweetness. Is your dad around?"

"He's out fishing with mom and the olo'eyktan."

"Alright. The other kids are just down the beach. Go on ahead and I'll see you later."

Tuk runs off excitedly while Kayla makes for the Sully marui. She finds herself alone when she gets there and she crouches down in front of the long-distance radio, pressing it to her lips, "This is Desert Fox, you have the green light."

"Hey, Kayla, it's Max."

"Hey, Max. Everything alright?"

"Everything's fine except for, uh... except for one thing. You haven't broken your link in a while and your body's vitals are... well, I don't feel comfortable with how low they are.  You need to come back, and I don't mean just breaking the link and waking up. I need you to bring the avatar back so I can get a proper assessment of both bodies."

She taps her finger against the talking piece as she chooses her words before responding, "Did Norm put you up to this? Normally, he's the one to call."

"Right now, Norm is... pissed off, to say the least. He figured I would have a more level head when talking to you."

"I understand," she sighs heavily, a headache already forming at the idea of having to face Norm's wrath, "I need to bring Spider back anyway. Tell Norm we'll be there tomorrow at about 1600."

"Copy that. Over and out."

~~~~~~~~~

When Tuk had mentioned Max's call to her father, Jake couldn't afford to wait to hear from Kayla about it and went looking for her, concern at the front of his mind. He finds her in her marui and stands in the doorway with hesitance when he notices the bags full of necessities on the floor in front of him. Kayla looked up as she was neatly placing Spider's rations in an easily accessible pouch, to which Jake's ears fell,

"Are you... packing?"

She nods, "Max had called while you were out. He says I've been away too long. I'll take Thena and fly back in the morning."

"Oh... are you sure that's a good idea?"

"I gotta go back. I shouldn't have stayed away from my human form for this long, you know that. I'll take Spider with me." 

When Jake flinches and looks as though he wants to argue she immediately adds, "He needs to recuperate and Norm and the others need to see him. They've been so worried, Jake. You need to share the boy with the people who actually raised him."

"No, it's fine. I understand that part. It's just... with Quaritch out there... and now that he knows who you are... it doesn't feel right. He'll have every reason to take both you and Spider."

"I can take care of Spider and myself. I've handled worse than Quaritch, and he wouldn't harm Spider. I'll bring him back, but for the time being, he needs to go home and I need to stretch my human legs."

"So you will come back?"

There's a hesitance in his voice, a small hopeful tone that makes Kayla look away out of awkwardness, "Jake..."

"Right," he corrects himself with a nod, "Don't talk about it."

"No. Do talk about it. But not to me," she managed a small glare in his direction, "I'll come back and I better hear that you and Lo'ak talked."

"About what exactly?"

"Jesus Christ-- Anything, Jake," she snarls out of frustration, staring up at the ceiling as if begging Eywa to clean her brother's ears, "Everything. And make sure he knows that he's not just a replacement."

His eyebrows furrow as a growing need to defend himself begins to form, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I mean... when exactly did you first start to See Lo'ak? Before or after his brother's death?" Jake's eyes slowly widened as his sister's words bore a hole in his chest. Kayla makes sure her disapproval shows as she continues, "He might not think your parenting is genuine at the moment because you're probably just nurturing Neteyam through him."

"Shit. Okay. I'll talk to him... Are we good?" He motions a finger between the two of them.

"We're getting there," she answered simply, not in the mood to open up another can of worms before she had to leave. She didn't want to say how long it might take for her to finally see eye-to-eye with Jake, but she wanted to. Not enjoying the silence that lingered after her short reply, she took a steady breath in and out of her nose, gaining the courage to look up at him, "Do you... want me to tell everyone about Neteyam?"

His eyes widen a fraction more before he averts his gaze, the broken expression almost unbearable for his sister to see as he stares off at the wall beside him, "If... If you could. I understand if you don't want to."

"It's fine. Leave it to me."

~~~~~~~~~

Thena wasn't overjoyed by all the weight she would have to carry over the ocean, and she showed her distaste by gently nibbling Kayla's shin as her rider was strapping the bags of supplies onto her back.

"Ah," Kayla hissed as she moves her leg out of her ikran's reach, batting her softly with the end of her tail, "Frickin' drama queen. You're going home so quit complaining."

The banshee squawked in retaliation, shaking her neck before huffing loudly through her nostrils as Kayla would say-- dramatically. The ikran was resting on the beach of the village with a small crowd of Metkayina standing around to see Kayla and Spider off, their friends and family included. 

Jake was on the other side of Thena, pulling and testing out the saddle, harness, and straps to ensure a safe flight, "Remember to take more frequent stops on the way back. She's not used to carrying so much for such a long distance."

"You got it."

"Still got your compass?"

"Check," she expresses as she indicates to the mentioned object, resting against her leg at the end of her songcord.

"Alright. Fly safe. Have Norm radio us when you get there."

He makes a step toward Kayla, then stops, his hands hesitating at his side before he just decides on firmly nodding. It almost looked as though he was going in to hug her, but decided against it when her shoulders hunched up at the idea. The siblings awkwardly stare at one another before Kayla walks around him and mutters, "See you later."

"Yeah..."

She moves to join Spider where he stands in the sand, his arms folded in front of him as he cautiously watches the Sully children out of the corner of his eye. Kayla peers over at her nieces and nephew, and can see how downtrodden they look, watching both her and Spider. 

She offers them an encouraging smile before standing before the human teen. Kayla pinches the bottom of Spider's mask where his chin would be, making him look up at her as she gently whispered, "Hey. We'll be coming back sooner than later. I promise it won't be long. So chin up and go tell them that you'll see them soon. You don't have to say goodbye."

Slowly, he nods and walks away, toward Lo'ak, Tuk, and Kiri. Kayla watched as the siblings all surrounded Spider in a warm, tight hug before she heard the sand moving behind her. Turning around, she was met with Ronal and Tonowari approaching her, and she courteously greeted them by pressing her fingers to her forehead and lowering her hand down in their direction.

Tonowari mimics the motion to her as well with his free hand, his other one gripping his tall harpoon. The olo'eyktan kept a straight face, though Kayla was getting better at reading his eyes, those light blue orbs with specks of green. While he appeared to stand tall and proud over his people, his eyes told a different story, at least to Kayla. She could see a small hesitance in his gaze, trying to remain strong as he solemnly addressed her,

"Safe travels, Makayla te Suli tsmuke te Toruk Makto. Your home here will anxiously await your return."

Kayla bows her head respectfully, forcing down any color threatening to spread up her face. Her eyes dart to the woman standing next to him, catching Ronal's green orbs with specks of gold. The tsahik kept her face firm and blank, though her eyes briefly glanced Kayla up and down in a way that sent the avatar woman down a tunnel of yearning. Ronal's gaze alone was almost enough for Kayla to change her mind and decide to stay on the island for another week.

She quickly regained her words when her mind stuttered, her lips feeling dry as she spoke quietly, "Thank you, ma olo'eyktan. Ma tsahik."

It took a lot of willpower not to step back as Ronal boldly stepped into Kayla's space, grasping the avatar woman's hand in both of her larger ones. Kayla retained eye contact with the tsahik, trying not to crumble under the heat radiating off of the other woman's body, or at the very least, try not to visibly show how both of the clan leaders' presence affected her. 

Ronal didn't even blink at this violation of unspoken space between them, lowering her voice for only Kayla to hear, "Eywa ngahu."

Kayla did her best to swallow her nerves and smiled ever so slightly once the words translated into her head. Almost regretfully, she finally steps away from Ronal, gently pulling her hand out of hers and swiftly turning her back to walk toward her ikran. Even as she walked away, Kayla could feel two pairs of eyes on her, causing the hairs on the back of her neck to stand up, but in a more... exciting and promising way. Not like the discomfort she once felt when the clan leaders had first laid eyes on her.

Spider had already finished talking to the Sully children and patiently waited for Kayla beside Thena... but at a safe distance since the ikran was eyeing him a little funny. He wasn't entirely watching Kayla as she approached him, his eyes distractedly flicking between her and the clan leaders watching her depart. He doesn't say a word as Kayla encourages him to climb onto the banshee. He does so, while repeatedly looking back curiously at Ronal and Tonowari. Kayla followed him up onto her ikran's back as she reached her tswin out to form tsaheylu with her loyal steed. Kayla looks around the crowd one last time, from her brother and his family to the clan leaders who had accepted her into their village. She looked away and got comfortable on the saddle, making sure Spider was hanging onto Thena's neck from where he was situated in front of Kayla before ordering in her head for the ikran to take flight.

~~~~~~~~~

By the time the island of Awa'atlu disappeared behind them, Kayla and Spider silently prepared for their long journey ahead. They had to find rock cliffs all throughout the flight so that Thena could rest, more times than when Kayla first flew her out over the ocean, but neither avatar nor human complained, taking the breaks to stretch their legs before they would eventually have to hop onto Thena's back once more.

It was getting dark by the time they began to glide over vast trees and floating mountains, but the world of Pandora was just as bright at night as it was during the day, if not more beautiful, so Thena had no problems as she flew up higher into the Hallelujah Mountains, already knowing her way home.

Even though the mountain appeared inconspicuous, Kayla knew they were at the right spot. She heard a horn blow before she even noticed a single Na'vi, but once the horn had sounded, a chorus of yips and cheers gave away the High Camp's position. A cave was spotted along with torches beginning to light up to beckon her in the right direction, so Kayla grasped Spider's shoulder and instructed Thena toward the cave where she had begun to make out shapes of Na'vi waving her in. 

Thena quickly lands the moment the landing zone is cleared, too tired to continue carrying all that weight for a second longer. Spider got off first before Kayla followed suit, breaking the tsaheylu and immediately tending to her ikran, running her hands up and down the beast's neck as thanks while supplying the banshee with plenty of raw meat. The floor of the cave felt cold and familiar beneath Kayla's feet as she looked around at yet another familiar growing crowd as they swarmed around her and Spider. The Omatikaya are all chatting around one another as they stare the two newcomers down, but they appear more relaxed and even happier to see them than ever before.

In the back of the crowd, Kayla caught an accent that wasn't Na'vi, "Look! It's Spider!"

And like dominos, other voices reacted as they drew closer, gently pushing the Na'vi out of the way to get to the human teenager who now perked up at the sound of familiar voices,

"Spider!"

"You're okay!"

"Good to see you, kid!"

"We're so glad you're safe!"

The allied humans, scientists, military, and everyone in between, with smiling faces covered in breathing masks, surround Spider to inspect him and hug him. He faintly smiles at all the familiar faces, adults he had known his whole life, greeting him like he was visiting for the holidays, marveling at how much he's changed.

One of the humans broke away from the group when she spotted the familiar avatar woman beside Spider, a young woman with dark, curly hair as she waved up to the avatar in question, "Kayla!"

"Hey, Jocelyn," Kayla's smile widened into a genuine joy to see her friend, "How's everything?"

"Doing well. It's so good to see you!"

"Makayla Sully!"

"Shit," Kayla mutters when she hears that familiar voice behind her, sounding pissed off. She sheepishly spins around and smiles as if she had just been caught stealing from the cookie jar, "Hi, Norm."

"'Hi, Norm.'" The man in question scoffs mockingly in his avatar form. For someone so lanky and overall nice, Norm Spellman can come off as terrifying when he's pissed, yellow eyes narrowing onto Kayla, "'Hi, Norm?' What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Listen, Norm, before you chew me out..." Kayla cuts off the tirade he no doubt had for her, hand out to stop him while looking around, "There's something I need to do first."

Norm nearly opened his mouth to protest, but then he looked down at Spider and noticed a grave expression on the teenager's face. Spider's gaze meets Norm and shakes his head, all the while Kayla continues looking around the crowd until she finally spots who she is looking for.

Amidst the chaos of everyone greeting Kayla and Spider, she hadn't seen Mo'at approaching until now, and whatever expression Kayla had on her face made the older Na'vi woman very cautious upon walking up to Kayla.

"Ma tsahik," Kayla bowed her hand to her respectfully, despite the grave expression on her face. It felt wrong to call her that. It felt like she was disrespecting Ronal somehow by calling Mo'at that, despite everything the Omatikaya woman had done for her.

"What has happened, Makaylasully?" Mo'at doesn't bother greeting, not once she saw something terrible flash in Kayla's eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Mo'at... I wish I wasn't the one to tell you this."

~~~~~~~~~

Mo'at's cries of anguish could be heard all throughout camp, shaking the very foundation of their stronghold, and once word spread throughout the clan, more cries rang out, mourning over the loss of who was once their future olo'eyktan, who was still a child, echoing off the cave walls. 

The Omatikaya had all flown off to the Tree of Souls to mourn Neteyam, while Norm and the other humans attended to Spider and Kayla.

Along with the heaviness in her heart, Kayla felt almost ill when she opened her eyes and was met with the soft-glowing ceiling of her link gurney for the first time in-- god, how long did she stay in her avatar form? Weeks? Months? It's all beginning to bleed together for her now. She waited until the gurney's lid hissed and opened before she removed the censor cage keeping her body in place, taking her time sitting up. 

Which she immediately regrets as her arms threaten to give out when they push her torso up into a sitting position, cold and shaking. She wasn't able to restrain the weak groan she let out as her eyes strained and a headache formed right away, her vision dotted and dizzy. When looking down at her feet dangling off the side of the link bay, the woozy feeling in her stomach makes itself known, and suddenly her mouth begins to fill with saliva.

'Shit!'

Kayla leans further over the side of the gurney and vomits all over the floor around her, continuously gagging until her stomach contents are emptied. She spits and gasps for air, now suddenly aware that someone is standing beside her, holding her hair out of her face-- when did her hair get so long?

"Dumbass," Norm mutters, now human and now keeping Kayla's hair up as she continues to dry heave. He's still pissed at her, but it's somehow lessened from both the news of Neteyam and the state Kayla was currently in. 

She had to agree with him when she felt her body begin to shake and a thin sheet of cold sweat started to form on her skin. Eventually, she's unable to vomit anything else out and just gasps for air, tears running down her face from how forceful that episode took over her body. 

It takes a few minutes, but once she's calm, Norm helps her stand on her own two feet. He hands her an oversized zip-up hoodie, and when she questionably looks at it, he explains, "You're a mess, Kayla. If you don't want to freak Spider out, you need to wear that."

Once she catches her reflection on a nearby surface, she finally understands why. She's horrified by what she sees.

For one, she wasn't ready to see a human female with pale skin, a pointed nose, and light eyes staring back at her, nor the lighter shade of hair compared to the dark, braided locks she had on her blue-skinned avatar. Her human hair was greasy, knotted, and had grown down her back, unlike the kept hair she used to have cut to her shoulders when she first arrived on Pandora. What was more terrifying with how much weight she had lost. Her pants were loose around her waist and her muscle shirt was now baggy, her arms definitely less toned than she remembered. While she had always been pale, she now looked too pale, almost sickly.

By the time she was able to process her appearance, Norm had cleaned up the mess. When he was done throwing away the soiled rags and washing his hands, Kayla finally snapped out of it and zipped the baggy hoodie up over her form, quickly brushing her hair out with her fingers and pinning it up in a tight ponytail. Once she's straightened herself out and is fine with walking on her weakened legs, Norm gives her a disappointed look but says nothing, leading her out of the lab and down the hallway. He stands off to the side of the small medical room the human rebels made as the doors slide open, letting Kayla in first before himself.

Spider and Max look up from whatever conversation is interrupted by Norm and Kayla's entrance. Spider was sitting up on the slab meant for "patients" while Max was asking him concerned questions, questions that Spider wasn't all too happy talking about and was remaining closed off for the time being. He was thankful he didn't have to wear a breathing mask at least.

"Hey, Max," Kayla croaked before quickly clearing her throat and smiling to mask the hoarse tone in her voice.

"Good to see you, Kayla," Max smiled warmly, though she didn't miss the way his eyes shined with concern behind his glasses. Her vitals must not be the only thing he's worried about now.

Kayla quickly looks away and expertly ignores the tension in the room as she approaches Spider, "Hey. How 'you doing?"

"Alright." He responded robotically, eyes squinting at her human form once more and a little cautious about what he saw. 

She remembers that he always preferred her avatar over her human form and huffs with amusement, shrugging in her baggy hoodie which made her look so small, "Yeah, I know. I look weird."

"You're not the weirdest-looking human I've met."

She snorts, "Charming."

"But you look different from usual," Spider's eyes scanned her face knowingly, "You look sick."

Guilt rumbles in her gut, realizing she couldn't exactly hide anything from Spider, the ever-observant kid. She feigns a smile of reassurance, "I just need a bit of sun. It's exhaustion from being stuck in that can for too long."

Norm scowled as he moved to join the group forming around Spider's spot on the cold slab. He wasn't impressed with Kayla trying to lie to the kid and playing off the fact that she was vomiting all her internal organs out mere moments ago, "That 'can' is the exact reason why you look miserable Kayla. That weeks-long stretch of neuro-link that you just pulled was stupid and unhealthy. You should've come back the second after you guys defeated the Sky People. I should've pulled your plug the second I realized you hadn't come back in weeks. You shouldn't be separate from your body for that long or you'll start to deteriorate in that gurney," he reaches out and shoves his pointer finger into her forehead to make sure she got the picture, "This body needs to eat, drink, and move just as much as your avatar or you'll eventually wither."

"Okay. I'm sorry," she bats his finger out of her face, sighing in defeat, "I promise I won't stay away that long again."

"Yeah, and just to make up for your stupidity, I recommend staying here for three weeks."

"What?" Spider exhales, eyes widening in distraught.

Kayla's eyebrows shoot up, "Three weeks?"

"Until the both of you are properly evaluated, rested, and healthy again, you're not going anywhere," Norm sternly ordered, glaring between the woman and teenager. Kayla seems to understand that this is the consequence of her actions and nods in hesitant agreement, while Spider, on the other hand, appears a little defiant. 

"But... I want to go back." Spider found himself saying, even shocking himself when he did so.

All eyes turn to him and Kayla is the first to open her mouth, eyes shining with sympathy, "Spider--"

"Hold on, you wanna go back to the reef?" Norm speaks up, his grim expression replaced with a surprised reaction as he stares owlishly at the boy, "Why would you? Jake and his family will come back in time, won't they?"

He turns his attention to Kayla, who shrugs, "As far as I know, they plan on staying in Awa'atlu."

"Do you?" He asked.

"Yes."

"But... Spider--" Norm cracks his neck from the number of times he's looked between Kayla and the teen in question, "You'll be the only human."

Kayla frowns at the implication that Spider would be alone, "I'll keep him safe."

"It's not about that, Kayla," Norm shook his head, "I trust you. We all trust you. It's just... the islands are hundreds of miles away and he's human. The seawater is low on the pH scale and can be acidic if a human is exposed for too long. He can get chemical burns."

Doubt clouds her eyes as she stops to think about this, realizing that she has never thought about it before. She cautiously peers over at the other scientist in the room, "... Max, is this true?"

Max was watching the interaction silently up until this point, and while he shared the same concerns as Norm, he was more optimistic in his explanation, "Only if the pH scale is super low and only if Spider doesn't immediately take precautions after getting out of the water. The Metkayina's tsahik likely has something to treat him with. It's also very likely that the kid is immune to most potentially dangerous Pandoran elements after the amount of exposure over the years. He's got tougher skin than even you do. He might be fine."

"He's still not immune to Pandoran air," Norm counteracts while sternly looking between the other two adults in the room, "He needs his oxygen mask on at all times and has to have several spares on hand should something happen, you know that. He can't eat Pandoran food, and he doesn't have a kuru. He's unable to connect to the land, water, and animals unless he's with a Na'vi at all times."

"And he will be," Kayla confidently replies.

"Does he want that?"

Kayla's eyes narrow back at Spellman, "Ask him yourself."

All eyes return to Spider, and while he doesn't like it when people talk about him as if he's not in the room, he hates when all the attention is turned onto him even more. He lowered his eyes to watch his lap as if it was the most fascinating thing in the world, all the while admitting under his breath, "I want to go back. Kiri, Lo'ak, and Tuk need me. And I need them. Kayla wants to go back, too. She wants to stay with her brother's family."

A thought crosses his mind and his lips turn up into a smirk. He raises his head and knowingly grins at the woman in question as he jokes, "It doesn't hurt that the olo'eyktan and the tsahik show an interest in her." 

The room deafens with silence, Kayla's jaw nearly falling to the floor in shock by Spider's boldness. Both Norm and Max glance between the two and each other, interest and surprise forming on both of their faces.

Max voices his interest with a faint, equally teasing smile as he glances over at the only woman in the room, "Oh, really?"

Kayla was trying to figure out when and where Spider made such an assumption, her eyes never leaving his until she realized he did this on purpose to get the attention off of him. Finally finding her words, she screwed up her face and playfully snarled at the teen, "Boy, shut up. That's not true."

"No?" Spider's grin only widens, "So gifting beads and shells for your songcord isn't a form of interest? Or taking you out on a date?"

"It wasn't a date. And I never said Ronal gave me that seashell."

The smugness practically radiated off of Spider as he raised a single, knowing eyebrow, "I never implied Ronal was the one who gave you the seashell."

Realizing she had been caught, she felt heat spreading over her face as she frowned, "Has anyone ever told you you're too smart for your own good?"

Spider laughed as Norm's eyes widened further, his mouth opening and closing as he struggled to find the right words to describe where his head was at. Instead, he shakes his finger at Kayla before looking back at the teen in front of him, "Okay, we're gonna put a lid on that conversation for just a minute. Spider, you're welcome to choose where you stay, but don't choose on anyone else's behalf but your own."

The amusement falls from Spider's face, looking away to avoid Norm and Max. He was glad he got a choice, but the fact that Norm appeared so hesitant made the teen feel a little angry and betrayed, remembering all the times he didn't have a choice and when he was captured, "Kayla kept looking for me. She actually tried. Where were you?"

Norm's face falls, "We did try, Spider. We really did."

"But we're just a small group of scientists," Max adds, his voice quiet and soothing.

At first, Kayla could tell that Spider didn't look all that convinced, so she came to her friends' aid, "It's true, kiddo. They tried to help me find you. Norm went out searching with me whenever he could after I earned Thena."

Only when he got Kayla's reassurance did Spider relent the anger and betrayal he felt, glancing between the two men he'd known all his life, "Okay, fine. But I know I'll be safe as long as Kayla is there. She's always had my back."

When he spared a glance over in her direction, Kayla looked surprised and touched, a smile threatening to take over her face as her eyes sparkled at him. Spider looked away, but internally he felt himself smile as well. 

~~~~~~~~~

A couple of days go by and Max and Jocelyn are tag-teaming to run as many tests as humanly possible to make sure Kayla, her avatar, and Spider are healthy and able to make the long journey back out over the ocean. 

Kayla got the diagnosis that she expected. Her human form was weak from the little use of movement, eating, and drinking. Norm was never going to let her live this down as he continued to berate her throughout the duration of her stay. She was given strict instructions to follow a proper diet and exercise, practically forbidden near a link bay until she regained a healthy weight. 

Spider, all things considered, is a picture of health. That is... until he mentioned the vivid nightmares he had been having during one of Max's assessments of him. When asked if he wanted Kayla in on this conversation, the teenager caved and accepted, realizing he would rather tell the woman who had his back than the scientists surrounding him. Kayla was summoned and Spider finally talked about the torture he went through at Bridgehead, mentioning the machine they forced him into called a NeuroSect scanner. He described what the scanner did to him, how it spun quickly around his head with blinding lights, making him dizzy and scared. It felt as though it was probing his mind, collecting brain data while Ardmore questioned him about Jake's location. He described how his head throbbed to the point his nose began to bleed, then Quaritch turned the machine off and Spider blacked out for a split second, his eyes having rolled to the back of his head.

Kayla kept her expression neutral, but on the inside, she felt as though she could scream at the top of her lungs, wanting nothing more than to stomp back into Bridgehead and throttle Ardmore until the bitch's own eyes rolled back and her nose bled. See how she liked it.  

But instead of giving in to her anger, Kayla gently thanked Spider for trusting her to know this, and he smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes as he sheepishly asked, "Just... don't ever tell Kiri, okay?"

After the vivid description of Spider's torture, Max confirmed that the nightmares were probably a lasting symptom of what his brain went through. Once Max had Spider confirm that he wasn't suffering from any more nosebleeds or migraines, Max was relieved as he stated that he should be fine. When Spider asked about the nightmares, Max assured him that with time, they'd go away, and that visibly got Spider to relax.

~~~~~~~~~

The conversation that Kayla was dreading had finally come up one night when Norm had her accompany him over to the edge of High Camp, overlooking the vast drop below them, accentuated by large waterfalls. With both of them wearing breathing masks and carrying lab equipment, Norm instructed her on how to take a sample off of a plant near the edge of the cliff, watching proudly as Kayla didn't even bat an eye as she crouched over the cliff, hovering over the plant in question. He remembered her first day at High Camp and how she was nervous to even be near the edge, knowing there was nothing below to catch her. 

As they worked, Norm nonchalantly asked, "So. Tonowari and Ronal have been giving you gifts, huh?"

Kayla groaned, lowering and shaking her head in defiance, "Spider is exaggerating. They brought me to the Spirit Tree so I could visit Neteyam and gave me a shell to add to my songcord."

"Kayla. That's no ordinary gift," Norm scoffed, amused at how naive she sounded, "Na'vi are gifted songcord beads or items when they succeed their Iknimaya or if another Na'vi was trying to court them, otherwise, they collect those items themselves or their parents do before they're old enough."

She stayed silent for a moment, continuing with her task of taking samples of the alien plant. She didn't dare look up to meet her friend's gaze as she finally spoke, "I'm trying not to think about it."

"Why? 'Cause it's too good to be true?"

"No, because I'm not-- I... I'm not..."

"If you're about to say 'not worthy', I'm going to dropkick you off this cliff." Norm threatened with a frown, arms crossed in front of him as he faintly glared down at her.

Kayla finally looked up then, a small smile visible on her lips as she tried not to laugh, "Threatening people is my love language, stay off my territory," she offhandedly commented before she looked out over the vast view of the forest below the floating mountains, her mind as far away as the ocean she couldn't even see but knows it's there, waiting for her, "Even if Ronal and Tonowari were interested, it's a bad idea. What would their people think of their leaders if they shacked up to someone like me? And it's not just their people. What about their kids? Ao'nung and Tsireya are around the same age as Kiri and Lo'ak, not to mention they have a baby sibling on the way. Norm, look at me, do I look like I know anything about children?"

He squints at her as if she grew a second head, "Is that a trick question?"

"Infants," she further reiterates, standing up to semi-meet his height, "Do I look like I know anything about infants? I was the baby of my own family. Even after my parents died, Tommy and Jake raised me. I have never learned how to be a caregiver."

"That's the dumbest thing I have ever heard."

She scoffed at how quick he was to reply, rolling her eyes, "Oh, and you hear a lot of dumb stuff in your profession?"

"Kayla, I was working alongside your brother years before you ever showed up. Your brother was the dumbest thing in the world next to the large group of scientists he surrounded himself with. Up until now, I thought he was gonna die still claiming that title."

She deadpanned at his teasing expression, "You really know how to make a girl feel special, don't you?"

"At least Jake wasn't afraid of getting with a Na'vi. What's stopping you from one-upping him and getting with two?" She snorts at the joke, looking away again as he continues, "And so what if they have kids? You're clearly great with children-- don't deny it," she clamps her mouth shut nearly a second after she opens it. 

Norm carried on, "It's not like every first-time parent goes in knowing exactly what they're doing. Who knows. You might have your own kid at this rate."

She squinted her eyes with suspicion as she slowly turned her head back in his direction, "If you're talking about Spider--"

"I'm not this time. I mean, obviously, Spider looks up to you as his guardian, but I was talking about you having your own rugrat with Tonowari and Ronal if you so wish."

Kayla's eyes briefly widen behind the glass of her mask before the shock quickly disappears. Norm felt his whole body grow cold when his friend reacted negatively to the statement, her eyes hardening to something grim and impassive as she crossed her arms and looked back out over the wide open sky,

"It's not possible."

Norm's concern was heard in his voice when she didn't look back at him, "Why not?"

"Because Ardmore made sure that was never a problem," Kayla robotically answered, having memorized what she had been told back at Bridgehead until it was engraved into her mind, "My avatar form was sterilized when they created her in a lab. Ardmore had always been thorough and checked off everything on her potential threat list and she made sure that this was one less thing to worry about."

She didn't see the way Norm's face dropped, eyes widening in horror as the news sunk in. He looked as though he had just been punched in the gut, watching Kayla as she already looked so... defeated, as she had already taken the time to accept this fact about herself. Norm was starting to wonder if she was ever going to tell anyone about this or if she was going to take it to her grave. Either way, he didn't want to squander the trust she had in him if he was truly the first one to know about her secret. He wanted to feel honored that she told him at all, but it didn't exactly feel like a secret worth being proud of.

"Oh. Oh, Kayla--"

"Don't," she sternly replied as she turned back to him with fire in her eyes, "Don't you dare pity me. I knew about it this whole time and I didn't care, so don't pity me when this was a choice that I made."

"Did you though? Did you make that choice or did Ardmore make it for you?" He was almost afraid to ask, but he had to know. 

"... At the time I didn't care. Kids weren't a priority for me. I came to Pandora to help Ardmore with her little experiment and in return, I could find Jake's remains to bring them back to Earth. That was it. I didn't want kids."

He caught onto her words and stated bluntly, "You keep using the past tense."

Kayla's eyes lower beneath her mask, "... I don't need a child."

"But you want one?"

"I already have one," she finally declares, now a small smile on her face when she comes to terms with it herself, "I have Spider. I have Lo'ak and the girls."

"... You can have Ao'nung and Tsireya, too. And someday, maybe even Ronal's baby."

She appeared to ponder this for a moment before sighing, "Nevertheless... I have more than enough. I have more family now than I thought I'd ever have back on Earth."

~~~~~~~~~

Three weeks went by a lot faster than both Kayla and Spider could anticipate, and once Max gave Kayla the all-clear to link back to her avatar, both she and the teen she was in charge of were starting to get excited to return to Awa'atlu. 

While she had been spending so much time on being healthy and gaining weight, Kayla felt as though she completely neglected some people around High Camp. Apart from Jocelyn, Kayla never got to catch up with Txe'la and Meui and how the three of them have been. Once back in her avatar, she didn't want to miss any more chances and took the two Na'vi men back out hunting like the good old days, and even managed to convince Tarsem to go with them when he was free from olo'eyktan duties. 

While hunting, the Omatikaya men were catching Kayla up to speed on recent events. Apparently, there's a resistance camp full of humans who had come to Pandora in the second wave of the Sky People invasion. There was an avatar and even Na'vi living among them, one of whom came to visit the Omatikaya. Tarsem spoke of a Na'vi who was originally born from the Sarentu clan, a clan known for their stories and democracy but had since been wiped out by the Sky People. However, a small handful of Sarentu survived and grew up, now fighting to protect Pandora from the same people who murdered their families. 

The Sarentu Tarsem spoke of sounded brave and determined to protect their home, jumping from clan to clan to ensure their alliance. The Sarentu's words moved Tarsem when he spoke to them, explaining to Kayla the importance of seeing a clan believed to be extinct suddenly return to bring the clans together. Kayla was amazed by the story, faintly thinking in the back of her mind how she would have to tell Jake about this.

Another individual Kayla felt as though she was neglecting was Mo'at. After everything the Omatikaya tsahik has done for her, Kayla wished she could somehow return the favor. She had started by mourning Neteyam with the older woman, knowing that the grief was fresh in Mo'at's mind and she shouldn't be left alone with it. Kayla did her best to tell Mo'at how everyone was back across the ocean and how they were thriving among the Metkayina. Once Mo'at was told how Neytiri was struggling, she stomped down her grief and got to work, half listening to Kayla's stories as she worked on her project.

Spider was waiting outside the lab for Kayla when she returned from visiting with the tsahik, the teen casually lying across one of its support beams as she approached, swinging one leg off the edge of it. He kept his face blank while staring down at the avatar form he was far more familiar with than the human one, 

"How's Mo'at?"

"A little better," Kayla sighed heavily, "Though she's been working tirelessly on a shawl for Neytiri so that I could bring it back to the island with me." 

"A mourning shawl?"

"Not exactly. She knows Neytiri already has one but she wanted something specifically for her daughter... a gift from one grieving mother to another." Kayla didn't miss the way Spider ducked his head at her words, avoiding eye contact, "What's wrong?"

Spider slowly sat up, watching his legs swing down over the side of the support beam as he hesitantly muttered, "I... I know I shouldn't... but I miss Neteyam."

Her heart squeezed painfully at those words, sad to see this child so conflicted over the loss of someone so young, "Why shouldn't you miss him?"

"Because I don't deserve it, especially after I let the one responsible for his death get away."

"Spider, we've been over this--"

"I know. But-- still."

She sighed, looking around before deciding to pull herself up onto the beam and sitting down beside the teen, looking up at the cave's ceiling, "You know... for at least the first week without 'Teyam... I felt the same way."

Spider turned his head to look up at her, "Really? Why?"

"Because I wasn't his parent... or his sibling... I was the estranged aunt who only entered his life a year prior. I wasn't extremely close to him as maybe you and Lo'ak were... so I felt as though I didn't have the right to miss him."

Pain passes through Spider's face as he lowers his head again, "... Neteyam and I weren't close."

"No?"

"I mean... when we were younger, sure, but we haven't been for a while. That's why I didn't feel as though I had the right to mourn him."

"Can I... ask why?" She questioned carefully.

"I want to say it was because he was starting to learn all the responsibilities of olo'eyktan, but I know I would be kidding myself. I think he started to distance himself because he wanted his parents to be proud of him."

Kayla caught the hidden meaning immediately, forcing down a wave of rage, "His mother, you mean."

"... Yes."

"I'm sorry, kiddo," she spoke softly, her hand rising to move a dread out of his face, but immediately placed her hand back down before she gave into that impulse, "If it's any consolation... I know he still cared about you."

She didn't miss the way his chin quivered underneath his mask, his eyes stubbornly staring dead ahead as his vision blurred, "It's not."

"I know."

~~~~~~~~~

Rations, masks, mouthwash...

Kayla was going over the list Max gave her several times over, making sure she had all of these essentials for Spider packed and strapped to Thena's back. There were human drinks, food, medicine, and so much more that even she guiltily forgot about. She was ashamed to think she was ready to let Spider stay in Awa'atlu when the kid actually needed a lot more than the bare essentials she managed to scrounge up for him.

Double-checking her harness and straps, Kayla gently places a hand over Thena's nose before stepping away, joining the crowd that wishes to see her and Spider off. Spider stood beside Max as Mo'at was handing him down some healing properties.

"Koaktutra," the tsahik placed a small wooden cup covered in a matching lid in Spider's hands.

Max noticed Kayla's confusion so he elaborates, "Goblin Thistle. Antibiotic balm."

Mo'at nodded to Max's explanation then handed another small mixture to Spider, "Pxorna'."

"Episoth," Max explained, "It's got amazing skin rejuvenation properties, and I think it'll help Spider when he goes into the water."

He takes the mixture from Spider and holds it up to the teenager's face, "As long as you remember to slather yourself in this stuff every night after a long day of swimming, it should help prevent skin cancer and chemical burns. These salves have proven to be safe for human use, I promise. If I happen to visit the island again and I don't see any changes to your skin, then maybe we'll be able to cut the episoth back to once a week and eventually even less so if your skin grows immunity to the pH levels. Until then, every night, bud. 'You got it?"

Spider huffs and rolls his eyes, "Yeah, yeah. I got it."

"Good. And just in case--" Max then holds up a remedy of his own, a small plastic yellow tube that makes Kayla snort with amusement at the sight of it. Sunscreen. 

Spider's upper lip twitched at the sight of the tube and half glared at Max, "Seriously?"

"Humor me."

"Fine."

Kayla laughs at their antics and takes the remedies from them, bringing the supplies over to Thena and safely packing them away in their bags. Mo'at takes a moment to place a gentle, withered hand on top of Spider's head and they both exchange a warm smile.

Norm, in his avatar, approached Kayla to help her out and hugged her when they were all set, "I am going to give you a week before I start calling and nagging at you to break your link again, got it?"

"Yeah, yeah," Kayla huffed as she pulled away, unaware of the knowing smile Norm bore as he looked between her and Spider, clearly thinking how similar they already were in words and mannerisms.

"And-- tell Jake everything's okay here. Tell him not to worry."

Kayla smiled then and nods, "Of course. I'll see you in a week."

She moves to say goodbye to Mo'at, the two women gripping each other's arms in departure as they silently speak to one another. Kayla then fistbumps Max and waves to everyone else before gently knocking her knuckle against the glass of Spider's mask, 

"You ready?"

"Yeah." Spider grins.

"Alright. Then let's go home."

A/N: I… don't think I have anything to say. I mean, it's a lot all in one chapter so I'm sure there's plenty to say but I can't think of anything ;) stay tuned for more soon!

[humanpurposes]

We're Born At Night

Chapter 2

Lady Rhaelle Targaryen of Runestone travels to King's Landing to plead for her sister's life, though the King she must bow to is a kinslayer three times over, and the very man who slaughtered her father

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Aemond Targaryen x Rhaelle Targaryen (OFC)

Warnings: 18+, eventual smut, politics, mentions of death and war, Aemond is a bit of a dick but that's his job

Words: 5.9k

A/n: I was aiming to post this on Sunday (but a pretty girl said I was cute and I went a bit insane 😌)

“Cheat!”

Rhaelle conceals her delight as she claims the ivory King piece from the cyvasse board. “It is not cheating, dear sister, it is strategy.”

Sunset is not long away. Rhaelle and Daena have spent most of the day in their chambers, waiting, flicking through the small collection of books from the shelf, playing cards and games of cyvasse which all end in the same way, a decisive victory for Rhaelle.

She cannot stomach the thought of food or sweets, cider or wine. She just feels her heart drumming in her chest, pulsing through the blood that runs under her skin. Aemond’s voice is still a whisper in her head and the other faces in the throne room are a blur, like trying to remember details from a dream. She should have been more attentive. The number of potential allies at court might be few but they will be invaluable if they are to advance here. 

So they wait. Wait for Lord Corlys to give them some indication that the King has acknowledged their cause, that he has even heard it.

She glances down at her fingers wrapped around the King piece, at the hand he kissed a matter of hours ago. Aemond had been rather welcoming in the throne room, she supposes, at least publicly. 

“But you tricked me!” Daena protests, looking in despair over the few pieces she has left on the board.

“I acted within the rules of the game,” Rhaelle says simply.

Daena makes a disheartened but determined huffing sound and starts to set the pieces out again, when there is a knock at the door. Morra answers and returns with Ser Willis, donned in his white cloak, with his helm under his arm and a broadsword proudly by his side.

Rhaelle taps her fingers on the table in front of Daena to get her attention and rises. “Lord Commander,” she says, “to what do we owe the pleasure?”

“Lady Rhaelle,” he greets with a small bow of his head. “I have a request from the King.”

Her heart leaps. Finally the waiting is at an end, but she contains herself. “Which is?”

“His Grace often takes his niece and nephew for a walk about the gardens in the evening, before the Prince and Princess are put to bed. He is unable to fulfil this duty tonight and asked if yourself and Lady Daena would like to take his place?”

She catches Daena’s eye for a moment and sees the same brightness in her gaze, the same hopefulness. 

Aegon, her heart whispers to her. Aemond has invited them to meet with their brother.

Ser Willis leads the way, Morra following behind as they head towards the courtyard, to the lowered drawbridge of Maegor’s Holdfast. The halls here are closer than inside the rest of the castle and the windows are smaller so the light is lower. Ser Willis leads them through locked doors and flights of stairs, until they come to a series of apartments that are bright and grand, with wide open rooms and paler stone walls that reflect the light.

At last they come to a room where pale blue is the most prominent colour. The stonework is adorned with images of flowers and dragons alike, and a fire crackles pleasantly in the hearth.

There are two settees in the centre of the room. On the one facing the door, a little girl with silver hair in a light blue gown stares intently at the book on her governess’ lap. Her lavender eyes follow the words as the woman reads to her.

And perched on the windowsill is a boy, a little older, with a wooden knight in his hands. He turns his head when he hears the door open and stares right at them, with his lips downturned and his violet eyes wide and unblinking. He looks like Daena did when she was small, with neatly combed silver hair instead of her dark brown curls.

The governess closes the book and gathers the children to stand before their visitors. “Forgive us, my Ladies, we have been waiting patiently for you, haven’t we children?”

The girl clings to the woman’s hand, staring up at them like she is holding back tears, while the boy stands straight with his hands behind his back.

“Princess,” the governess says, ushering the girl forward, “these are your cousins, the Lady Rhaelle, and the Lady Daena.”

Jaehaera, the orphan Princess, the last of her family save for her uncle Aemond. She had a twin once, and a baby brother. Prince Jaehearys was beheaded only a short walk away from this room, before the eyes of his mother, his grandmother, and his siblings. It was in the early days of the war, a son for a son, at the order of Daemon Targaryen. 

The little Princess takes a tentative step forwards, clinging to the sides of her gown as she curtsies steadily and gracefully.

Rhaelle curties low and rises to offer the girl a sympathetic smile, because losing a mother is a terrible thing, a lonely thing, which she knows all too well.

“Prince Aegon,” the governess says next, ushering him forward, “these are your sisters.” There is no warmth to her voice like she has for Jaeheara, but no contempt either, just an unsure sort of bluntness. 

Aegon looks between them. “My father’s daughters,” he says softly.

Rhaelle extends a hand to him. Those eyes are so precious, she thinks, the eyes that had to see his own mother burned and devoured by his uncle’s dragon. Her heart shatters for him, for both of them, that they have had to witness so much horror.

“We have wanted to meet you for some time,” she says.

Aegon nods and holds her hand tightly. In the corner of her eye she sees the governess watching them.

Ser Willis and another Kingsguard, Ser Gyles Belgrave, accompany them to the gardens. When the governess goes to follow, Rhaelle holds up her hand. “No need,” she says, “my sister and I should like to acquaint ourselves with her family. We will be no longer than an hour.”

Neither the governess nor the guards protest.

The gardens are nothing like the countryside around Runestone, gravel paths and fountains, rows of carefully trimmed hedges, walkways covered in red ivy and trees that have begun to shed their golden leaves. They stay in sight of the castle, and Ser Willis and Ser Gyles are never far behind them.

Daena is delighted with young Aegon. She runs her hands over his hair, kisses his cheek, asks him about his favourite books and if he has held a sword yet.

Jaeheara was quiet at first but has warmed up, letting Rhaelle take one hand and Morra take the other. Her hand is small, soft and delicate, so much that Rhaelle worries she might break her if she holds her too tightly. She babbles on about the things children do. She says her favourite colour is blue, like her gown and like the sky. She says her governess is teaching her how to read, count and dance, but she wants to learn to sew.

“What would you sew?” Rhaelle asks.

Jaeheara knits her brow in thought. “Butterflies,” she says, “and spiders, and ladybirds.”

“You like insects?” Morra says.

“I can’t decide,” says Jaehaera, “but mother liked them very much.”

Rhaelle so desperately wants to bring her into her arms and hold her close to her chest. “Did your mother sew too?” she asks.

“Oh yes, she had a gift for us every day.” She keeps her eyes on the gravel shifting beneath her feet. “That means she was kind, doesn’t it?”

Rhaelle stops and turns to Jaehaera, bending her knees a little so their eyes meet. A flash of silver catches her attention instead, back towards the castle. She looks past Jaehaera’s shoulder, to a balcony overlooking the gardens. She knows it’s him, if the hair doesn’t give him away the black eyepatch against his pale skin does.

“Your mother was kind to me, when I knew her,” she says, gently.

Jaehaera’s eyes widen. Rhaelle worries she might start to cry but instead she smiles. “Uncle Aemond says she was kind.”

Her heart is humming again and her hands are starting to tremble. He must be watching them, watching her.

A little further down the path, Aegon and Daena are picking blackberries from a bramble bush, giggling as they place them in their mouths.

Rhaelle can hardly help herself but cup one of Jaehaera’s plump little cheeks. “We might find some insects in the bushes, what do you think, little Princess?”

“I often see ladybirds on the bramble bushes,” Jaehaera says. “I think they must like blackberries.”

Aegon calls his cousin’s name and waves at her with one hand, while cupping something in the other. He has found a caterpillar and shows it to Jaehaera. She stares down at its little green body with an endearing wonder, before deciding she wants to hold it too and show Morra. 

While the children are distaced, Rhaelle steps close enough to Daena that they can speak softly to each other, without having to lean in too obviously.

“He said he knows all about us from Alyssa,” Daena says, “she used to tell him about us, about Runestone. Then he asked me if she was dead too.”

Rhaelle almost flinches. 

“He is not yet seven years old and he has watched most of his family die,” Daena whispers bitterly, glancing towards the guards, out of earshot. 

Rhaelle watches them too, far too busy with their own conversation to be listening to them and only sparing occasional glances towards the children. Then she looks back to the castle, hoping Aemond is still there, and he is.

When Ser Willis says it is time for the children to be taken back to the Holdfast, Rhaelle and Daena oblige. Jaehaera’s hands and mouth are covered in purple fruit juice and she is delighted with herself. 

They pass under the balcony where Aemond stands as they reenter the castle. Daena and Morra are walking arm in arm. Aegon and Jaeheara are excitedly talking about caterpillars and butterflies and all the places they would fly to if they could grow wings.

Rhaelle sees him though, and catches his lone eye. His face is unreadable, stern and soft, dark and light.

Instinct, a reckless urge that she justifies as a risk, drives her towards a doorway leading off from the entrance hall. Daena and Morra will wait for her in their chambers once the children have been seen back to the nursery. The doorway leads to a hall, then a small winding staircase. She hitches her skirts and climbs it quickly, ensuring not to lose her footing in haste. She feels like she is chasing something intangible and follows it along a gallery, then to the balcony beyond that.

Aemond is still standing there with his hands behind his back and his head tall, looking south, over the gardens and Blackwater Bay beyond that. The noise of the castle does not reach her ears here, only the sound of the wind and the waves rolling over the shore beneath the Keep. In the west the sky burns like fire and in the east it is already getting dark.

She approaches him slowly, her shoes making enough of a noise against the flagstone floor to alert him of her presence, but softly enough so as not to disturb him. She comes to stand beside him on his seeing side, keeping her head straight but watching him, always watching him. “Your Grace,” she says quietly.

The corner of his mouth is curled. Is he smirking? Or is he irritated by her presence? “My Lady,” he returns.

Her hands are shaking. She brings them before her, clasping them together so she cannot fidget. “I had assumed you had other business this evening.”

“You assumed,” he says without looking at her.

“Ser Willis said you invited us to see the children.”

“I thought you might like to.”

“I did,” she insists, turning her head to face him. “I did. I am grateful. Daena and I are both grateful.”

Aemond hums, low and cryptic. It makes her feel weightless for a moment. He finally turns his head towards her. “The boy has mentioned you before, his Royce sisters, each of you.”

Coming from any other’s lips she might have taken her mother’s name as a compliment, and it could almost be that given the softness of his voice as he says it. But something else is written in the way he holds himself, the intensity in his eye, the striking gleam of silver hair falling over black leather: he is a true Targaryen, and she is an outsider.

Perhaps if she looks into his eye for long enough she’ll be able to read his thoughts. She finds nothing, save for an unsettled feeling in her chest and stomach. So she looks away, back out over the gardens. “I am glad my brother is being treated so well,” she says.

“Why should that surprise you?”

She tilts her head and gives him a rather pointed look. She asks herself if she would dare answer that question seriously. He still has the knife on him, maybe he’ll draw it and cut her throat for treason if she presses him hard enough.

Instead he hums a small laugh. “Prince Aegon is my heir until I have sons of my own. You needn’t fear if your brother is being mistreated.”

For now.

Then he adds in a quieter voice, “he is good with Jaehaera.”

Aegon was an older brother after all, and meant to have a younger sister of his own until the outbreak of war.

“The Princess is a delight,” Rhaelle says, “she is easy to love.”

Aemond’s eye lights up and he almost smiles. “She’s a sweet little thing, just like her mother was. Jaehaerys was the same…” he seems to regret this train of thought when he takes a slow breath and frowns to himself.

Rhaelle watches his chest rise and fall, this formidable man, a King forged in a time of war, determined not to crumble in the face of his own grief. She can almost pity him, and perhaps she does when she feels a gnawing sort of feeling knotting and twisting inside of her. She aches for him, for his losses and for her own.

“I see my own mother in many ways,” she says, taking a step into him. Aemond looks to her again, darkly but patiently. “I see her in my sister when she is stubborn. I see her in myself sometimes, all the times I thought she was being overbearing. I see her when I ride through the hills at Runestone. I feel her hovering over my shoulder when I draw a bow.”

Aemond has turned his body to face her now, not completely, just a little. One of his hands rests on the balustrade brought into a gentle fist, and he’s standing close to her, enough that she can hear each breath he takes and smell the leather of his jerkin.

“Because we don’t truly lose them,” she says, “at least I hope not. I can scarcely remember my mother’s face but I still know her love.”

“And that gives you comfort?” Aemond says.

“It does.”

“And what of your father, what love do you have for him?”

His question steals the air from her lungs. What love does she have for him, the man she hardly knew? The man her mother hated. The man who gave her his name and the burden of his legacy. Daemon’s blood runs through her veins as much as Rhea Royce’s does, life beyond death, enduring and damning. 

Aemond is watching her intently, waiting for her answer, searching her face for a sign of weakness, but always with that gleam of amusement. Did he look for weakness in Daemon before they mounted their dragons at the God’s Eye? Did he find the fear he seems to feed off?

“The same all girls have for their fathers, I suppose,” is her answer.

“And do all girls love their fathers?”

“As best we can.”

“How diplomatic of you,” he says, smirking. He’s toying with her, testing her like a hunting trap.

“You distrust me,” she says. 

He tuts. “I would very much like to trust you.”

“Yet you do not.”

“Do you trust me, cousin?” 

It’s like asking if she would trust a snarling beast with a taste for her blood. “You are my King,” she says.

“And as King, it is my duty to identify threats, to my rule and to the realm.”

His gaze does not falter, and so she will not allow hers to either.

“Am I a threat, Your Grace?” 

He considers her for a few moments, like he did in the throne room, studying her as closely and thoroughly as a scholar studies an ancient tome. All the while he curls his lips like he has a secret. “My brother was King before me,” he says in a low voice, taking another small step into her. “You are aware of the end he met?”

“Poison,” she says.

“And I took Larys Strong’s head for it, a man who served my mother for many years, who saw Jaeheara to safety during the war, who helped Aegon return to King’s Landing when it was taken from him. I could have all manner of enemies in these very walls, those who might seek to replace me with a child, more easily controlled than I am. Wearing a crown did not spare my brother from death and it will not spare me.”

He can trust no one, he means. A crown has become comparable to a death sentence as of late, and Kings and Queens are perhaps not as invincible as they once seemed. 

“You are not your brother,” she says.

“No. What am I then?”

She parts her lips to respond, but she cannot give him an answer. In truth, the thought of being face to face with him, to ask for his mercy had terrified her when she first left Runestone. Aemond Targaryen, the man who started a war when he killed his nephew, who burned armies and put innocent men, women and children to the sword, who killed her father.

She has often wondered how he did it, if the battle was quick, or if it was long and bitter. She has wondered if the dragons tore each other to pieces, or if Aemond had been able to look his uncle in the eye as he claimed his life.

Before all of that he was a child with a gruesome gash in his face, who had tried so hard to hide his pain from her. 

He hums cryptically and she feels him lean in closer to her, coming close enough that she can see the imperfections and the details in his face, the lines around his mouth and the texture of his skin. The edges of his scar appear as thin lines now. It is a striking element to his appearance, but other than that, she supposes he is merely a man.

“I have asked you once but I shall ask again: have you come to ask something of me, Lady Rhaelle?”

Lord Corlys would warn her to be patient. There is a strategy that must be employed, a set order in place for making a request of the King. She must be delicate, for Alyssa’s sake.

She spots his hand on the balustrade and places her own over it, barely tracing her fingers over his. She feels his gaze on her all the while. “Our house has been divided for too long. Shouldn’t we seek to heal this rift between our families?”

He watches where their hands meet and lifts them until their palms are against one another. Rhaelle’s fingertips press into the grooves of his fingers, against his warmth and the rough calluses of his skin.

“Hmm,” he says, threading his fingers through hers, closing over her knuckles. “You have a way with choosing your words carefully.”

Naturally. Her survival depends on it. “As must we all, Your Grace,” she says.

He mutters under his breath, like she’s played a winning move in a game of cyvasse, “very good.”

She can still feel him when she returns to her chambers, the gentlest brush of his fingertips and the heat of his hand against hers. She can mistake a gentle draft or breeze for his breath ghosting over her face, the sound of the wind beyond the window as the sound of his voice.

Lord Corlys visits them after dinner. She offers him some of the leftover roast beef but she shakes his head and instead asks for a cup of wine as he makes himself comfortable in an armchair before the hearth.

Rhaelle joins him, bringing two cups with her while Morra carries the decanter of wine. Daena gathers a fur throw, a pillow and a book, and settles on a chaise by the window. She doesn’t usually like to read, especially not at night when she can scarcely see the words.

Rhaelle smiles at her, sceptically. Daena shrugs her shoulders and lowers her eyes to the page.

“I have news from Driftmark,” Lord Coryls says, “Baela and Rhaena have accepted their invitation to the King’s Tournament and will set sail for King’s Landing in three days time.”

This is supposed to make her happy. From what she remembers at their mother’s funeral and the wedding feast, her half-sisters were agreeable enough but still unfamiliar. Baela, the older twin, was a little more forward than her sister, a dragonrider from a young age and it showed. Rhaena was far quieter and more cautious. They must be changed now, being right in the heart of Rhaenyra’s war.

“The King’s Tournament?” Daena’s voice calls from the window.

“Tourneys, feasts, dancing; a celebration to mark the betrothal of the King to Lady Floris Baratheon,” Corlys says, raising his glass. 

A romance for the ages: he barged into Storm’s End looking for an army to support his brother’s claim, and she was the most agreeable of four sisters.

“The eyes of the realm will be on the two of you,” Lord Corlys says.

“I do not see why we would attract such interest,” Daena says.

“Aemond still needs to secure his rule. His heir is a child and the son of his brother’s rival. After that his closest competitors for the throne are his uncle’s daughters.”

“My sisters and I have no desire for a crown, Lord Corlys,” Rhaelle says.

“You are Targaryens and you have a claim to the throne whether you desire it or not. That invites challenge. Half the country has been devastated by war and the rest will struggle through winter. I’m afraid your matter will take time.”

“How much time?”

He gestures vaguely with his hands. “You will appear before the King tomorrow. You will renounce your father, your step-mother and your late betrothed. The King will accept, and you will ask only that Lady Alyssa be spared from the headsman.”

“He would have her killed?”

“It is a matter of contention amongst the members of the Small Council, but as I understand it, His Grace has little desire to spill any more blood than is necessary.”

Daena chuckles quietly to herself.

Lord Corlys’ brow raises, but he does not comment on it. “In return for your loyalty, I expect the King to welcome you wholeheartedly into his court. When Aemond and Floris are wed you may be given positions in the Queen’s Household. You’ll be able to stay here permanently, you’ll get to see your brother and sisters often, and eventually you’ll make good matches to rich and powerful husbands, as befitting your royal blood.”

She wouldn’t have her mother’s cousins pestering her about the absence of the Lady of Runestone, eyeing the seat that belongs to her sister. Hers and Daena’s futures would be secured. 

“And what of Alyssa?” she asks.

“I will ensure she is kept alive and well, and in time, we may convince the King to release her.”

May convince. The thought does not feel particularly assuring, but what else can she do?

She wakes at dawn the next morning, dresses and readies herself for court as she had done the previous day, taking her sister’s arm as they walk into the throne room. There is no grand entrance this time, they are led to an adjacent chamber and enter through a small doorway that leads them to the far end of the hall.

She and Daena stand to the right, below the steps that lead to the throne, behind the members of the Small Council, Lord Corlys, Lord Tyland, Maester Orwyle, Lord Unwin Peake, Martyn Hightower and his brother, Garmund. These men have no doubt argued over the matter of her sister’s imprisonment. “A matter of contention,” as Lord Corlys had said.

Aemond sits upon the throne again, comfortably poised, and she is amongst the first to lobby him. 

Lord Corlys steps forward to announce her as she approaches the Iron Throne. She comes to her knees before him and allows herself to look up. She half expects to find him smiling, but his lips are in a thin line, not amused or prideful, but curious, his eye fixed upon her face.

“Your Grace,” she says, mustering all the courage she can to give her voice a clear demand without pushing too far. “I come before you once again as your loyal subject, to speak for myself and for my sister, Lady Daena.”

Aemond crosses one of his legs over the other, with his arm resting upon the throne, amongst the sharp edges of the blades. He brings his fingers to his chin and tilts his head, a command to continue.

She feels her pulse quicken, the words threatening to catch in her throat as they had done before, but she forces herself through it. “I renounce my late father, the traitor, Daemon Targaryen. I renounce my late step-mother, Princess Rhaenyra and her attempt to supplant the true line of succession. I renounce my former betrothed, the late Prince Joffrey. I–” she catches Lord Corlys’ eye and he nods to her. 

She thinks of Alyssa, her brave, beautiful sister, who held her and soothed her when Ser Gerold explained that their mother would never return to them, whose wisdom she worshipped and whose arms she sought comfort in until the day Daemon took her to Dragonstone. Once the future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, now condemned to death if Rhaelle does not save her.

“I come before you again, to pledge my loyalty to you, and to our house,” she says, keeping her head down, waiting for the sound of Aemond’s voice or his footsteps.

“Come to me,” he says.

It’s like her body is set alight, heat, fury and excitement rising in her belly, her blood running hot beneath her skin. There is anger too, because she cannot read him, because she cannot tell if this is a show of favour or if he means to insult her somehow. She resents his incessant staring. She resents his cold, impassive nature. She resents the light feeling in her limbs as she climbs the steps to stand before him.

He rises to meet her, his hand outstretched and his lips threatening to break into a smirk. 

Most of what she had heard of her father was that he was a jealous and ambitious man. He coveted this seat, held by his brother, promised to his niece, ultimately claimed by his nephew. Daemon killed for it, he died for it, and now she is close enough that she could reach out and touch it.

She places her hand in his and he holds her gently, stroking his thumb over her knuckles. She clenches her jaw as she tries not to shudder.

“I accept your pledge,” he says, then loudly, so the others in the room may hear him. “It is not my wish to punish you for the sins of your family.”

The room hums with curious murmurs, nods of approval and whispers.

“Forgive me,” Rhaelle says quietly, as if this were a private exchange, as if they were not on display before the court. “You asked me yesterday if I had something to ask of you, and the truth is I do.”

Aemond’s brow raises, but the rest of his face is solemn. “Go on,” he says.

“My sister, Alyssa, is currently your prisoner, declared to be a traitor by your brother’s order. Spare her life, cousin, I beg you.”

Suddenly the silence in the hall is tangible. What must they be thinking, the Lords and Ladies before them, the men of the Small Council, Lord Corlys?

She does not spare a glance for any of them. She tightens her grip on Aemond’s hand and when she looks into his eye she does not plead for pity or sympathy. She is a Targaryen just as much as he is, with fire in her blood and pride in her heart.

“Lady Rhaelle,” Aemond says, “you are the acting Lady of Runestone.”

“I am, Your Grace.”

“You do a fine job of it, so I understand?”

She hesitates. She ensures the castle, its lands and people are kept well. She advises Lady Arryn when it is required of her. “As best I can, Your Grace.”

He leans in closer to her, close enough that she feels his breath on the shell of her ear and her neck. “Do away with modesty, it is a waste of my time,” he mutters. When he pulls away the corner of his mouth is curled so that it could almost be a joke. “Lady Rhaelle,” he announces, addressing the room, “in return for your loyalty to the crown, I hereby grant you the title of Lady of Runestone and all its inheritance.”

The room applauds this decision but Rhaelle is struck by dread. She looks to Daena, equally surprised, equally powerless. She looks to Lord Corlys, who seems to accept this too. The faces of Lord Tyland, Lord Unwin, and the Hightowers are less pleased.

She turns back to Aemond and keeps her voice low, “Your Grace, I cannot accept–”

His grip on her hand becomes a painful one as he turns his face in towards her. “You will accept,” he says with a cold fury. “While I am moved by your devotion to your sister, she must remain a prisoner and forfeit any and all claims she was previously entitled to.”

His face is dark and severe and her stomach drops like she is standing at the edge of some great height, one step away from a fall. She might be wise to fear this side of him, she thinks, but she is tempted to refuse him, to take that final step from the edge if only to see what anger he can truly unleash. She’d take pride in it, and maybe it’s her Targaryen nature, but suddenly something in the back of her mind thirsts for chaos.

It is her choice to make, but her life and the lives of her family will be at risk if she makes the wrong one.

And so she must choose her words carefully, unsure if it will bring her closer to her goal or drag her further from it.

“It would be an honour, Your Grace.”

Rhaelle and Daena dine alone that night. She is starving, but then the meat is brought out, a cut of roasted lamb, rare meat still on the bone that bleeds when Morra starts to carve it for them. It repulses her. She cannot even look at it. She downs a cup of apple cider instead and manages a mouthful of bread.

Daena can see that something is wrong, but does not question her.

Morra, on the other hand, offers her more cider and something that might be softer on her stomach. “Blackberries?” she suggests with a kind smile.

“Please,” Rhaelle mutters. 

Morra brings her a small bowl of them, dusted with sugar. At first she is thankful for how refreshing the taste is on her tongue, until she looks down at her fingertips and sees them stained red. 

She forces her hand away from her lips in a sudden jolt of movement, and in her haste knocks her fork to the floor with a jarring clatter of metal against stone.

It doesn’t matter, she thinks, starting to wipe her fingers against her napkin, but the red will not fade. She tries harder, dragging the fabric against her skin until it almost burns, but it won’t come out, it will not–

“Lady Rhaelle?” 

She throws her napkin down on the table and covers her mouth, fighting the urge to gag. “I’m fine,” she tries to whisper, “I feel unwell is all.”

“I’ll draw you a bath,” Morra says.

Rhaelle shakes her head. “No, I just…” but she cannot find the words. She cannot decide what she needs.

“Come, sister,” Daena says, having risen from her seat and come to place her hand on her shoulder. “I think you need to rest.”

Rhaelle lets herself be led away into her bedchamber. Daena helps her to remove her jewellery and lays out a night shift on the bed for her. Once Rhaelle has undressed, she reaches for the pins in her hair.

“Let me,” Daena says softly, and Rhaelle’s hands fall away. Daena’s touch is unsure but gentle. She would never have had as much practice at doing another’s hair, not as the youngest sister, but it is a welcome comfort.

Rhaelle stares at her reflection in the mirror as Daena brings a brush through her hair. She watches candlelight and shadows flicker over her face, over both of their faces. Their eyes look dark in the lowlight, almost black, like their mother’s, not the striking violet that makes them their father’s daughters.

“Do you think the Gods will punish me for this?” she utters.

“Punish you? Whatever for?”

She swallows thickly, her vision starting to blur. “I offered a hundred men at arms to Lady Jeyne to fight in the war. I could have offered more. I could have mounted a horse myself and met our father at Harrenhal. I could have written to Rhaenyra and asked her to send Alyssa back to Runestone. I could have offered men to defend King’s Landing, or to hold Dragonstone. There is so much I could have done, and now I have forsaken our family, our own blood because I was too weak to do anything before–” she gasps to catch her breath. The tears have spilled from her eyes now, they sting against her cheeks and taste salty and bitter on her lips.

Daena’s hands vanish from her hair. Rhaelle instead finds herself cradled in her sister’s arms.

“Alyssa is our family,” Daena says. “It was not Daemon Targaryen who protected us when mother died, it was our sister, it was our cousins, it was House Royce. We remember, you taught me what that means.”

Daena presses a kiss to her head and strokes her hand over her hair, like Alyssa used to when they were girls, like the way she has always imagined her mother would. “Aemond will favour our cause,” she whispers. “He has to. He has to.”

Tags (comment to be added)

General taglist: @randomdragonfires @jamespotterismydaddy @theoneeyedprince @tsujifreya @dreamsofoldvalyria @lacebvnny

Series taglist: @adragonprinceswhore @persephonerinyes @gemini-mama @aemondzyrys @snh96 @magnificentdelusionr @aegonx @xxxkat3xxx @dahlias-and-marigolds @mandiiblanche @thaisthedreamer @heavenly1927 @herfantasyworldd @heimtathurs

[foli-vora]

congrats on 3k!! Not sure if you're still doing this, but can I request something smutty with agent whiskey with the prompt "can we go home yet?"

Thank you for the request, my sweet! I'm so sorry for the time it took to get around to it, but I hope you enjoy! ❤️

errands

jack daniels x f!reader

word count: 1.7k warnings: i love him sm, sweet husband jack will give you everything, jack being a sexy menace, semi public/parking lot activities, swearing, SMUT 18+ ONLY: what's a domesticity kink called? idk, whatever it is we've got that. fingering, orgasm denial, can't not use this gif lmao

The familiar churning of warmth in the pit of your stomach has followed you relentlessly throughout the day, despite you leaving your shared bed much later than socially acceptable after a long morning lost in Jack’s hold. There’s a gentle ache between your thighs from his dedicated efforts, the feeling never once letting your mind wander from the way he unravelled every part of your body and soul over and over.

And this? This wasn’t helping.

The confidence he oozed striding through the hardware store, knowing exactly what he wanted and where he would get it. The way he would ramble about the house renovation plans; what rooms could be what, where he could build you a little reading nook with a window overlooking the endless rolling green fields, or what materials he would need to make some floor to ceiling built in bookcases for your shared collection of books…

His excitement at dedicating his variety of skills into bringing your dream home to life is palpable, bringing forth such a fond tenderness to your chest that it makes you swear you couldn’t possibly love this man anymore if you tried. It rolls from him in waves now, as he wanders with his full cart of various renovation necessities and voicing his thoughts on what particular paint colours would match your shared vision.

It’s just all so sweet, so domestic.

It’s driving you wild.

Lips wrapping around the straw of your soda cup, you study the broad planes of his back, covered by his ever present leather jacket that thankfully stops just above the soft swell of his ass—bless that man for knowing how to pick his jeans. If it weren’t for the sweet elderly couple flicking through colour swatches at the end of the aisle, you simply would’ve crowded him into the shelves just for a much needed taste of his mouth, and maybe a quick feel—

“You listenin’ to me back there?”

“Not really,” you admit honestly, tongue rolling across your lower lip as he gives you a playful frown of disapproval from over his shoulder. That familiar heat rises and swells in your core, and you shift impatiently on your feet. “Can we go home yet?”

He chuckles, reaching out to pluck a paintbrush from the shelf and feeling the synthetic fibres between his fingers. “You gettin’ bored, darlin’? Is that why you’ve been poutin’ the last two aisles?”

“I haven’t been pouting.”

“Mhm,” he rumbles deeply, lips tugged up into a small smile of amusement as he continues his perusal of the variety of painting accessories. Eventually he lands on the ones he finds somewhat satisfactory, and tosses them into the cart before beckoning you closer with an open hand reached out behind him.

You take it and press up into his side easily, sighing softly at the heavy arm that wraps around your shoulders and the lips that press gently against your temple. The heat from his body seeps into yours while a wash of his familiar cologne assaults your nostrils, and it takes every bit of strength to not tilt your head and catch his lips in a searing kiss that would go scaring away any and everyone within range.

God, he just smells so damn good. 

“Okay, so I may have been pouting—but it’s all your fault.”

He chuckles, the deep throaty timbre of it twisting pleasantly in your core, and what really kills you is that he has no idea the actual effect he has on you. Everything about him either sends you into a sweet and dizzying lovesick spiral, or hurtling straight into the fiery depths of hell with the thoughts that turn in your mind.

“Is that right? How so, sugar?”

You sigh, turning in his hold and raking a finger down his chest, winding around the buttons of his shirt as it goes. “All I can think about is fucking you right in the middle of this aisle, Jack.”

He blinks in surprise, taken off guard and rendered slightly bewildered by your admittance. “Come again?”

“Yes—I’m planning on it actually, again and again.”

A grin quickly tugs at his lips and his eyes flicker to the passersby going about their days as he tugs you closer, his thick drawl oozing into your ears, “You’re gonna get us thrown out if you keep that talk up, sugar.”

“Good, then we could go home and waste the afternoon away.”

He sighs, trying to appear vexed by your apparent disinterest in your errands, but the smile still tugging insistently at his lips gives him away. You see the playful sparkle in his eyes, the desperate want to give you everything you need and more, and you know you’ve got him right where you want him.

“Come on, Jack,” you coo, dragging him in for another kiss with just a taste of everything you’re feeling that leaves him chasing your lips when you eventually pull away, “let’s go home. Let me have you.”

“You’ll be the end of me, you know that?” He grumbles quietly before shaking his head, winding a hand down to grab teasingly at your ass cheek and giving it a firm tap that sends a rocket of heat hurtling straight to your core. “Fine. Registers—now. And no dawdlin’, go on now.”

It takes an agonisingly long time to pay, and you’re sure he does it on purpose. Jack lingers, happily chatting away to the older man serving you, and he has to know how impatient it’s making you because you swear you spy a smirk lingering at the edge of his lips as you start to shift from foot to foot. 

You pounce as soon as he slides into the driver's seat, curling a hand around his neck and bringing his mouth greedily to yours. He responds quickly, unable to pull away from the lure of your kiss, lips parting and tongue meeting yours in a tangle of need. You groan into the heat of his mouth, relishing in the burn of his moustache as the kiss deepens. It does nothing to douse the fire wreaking havoc on your body, and you shift restlessly in your seat, thighs rubbing as you search for something to aid in your distress.

He chuckles, the force of his kiss moving you back into your seat as he crowds into you over the middle console, a hot hand splaying on the skin of your thigh to calm your agitation. 

The words rumble against your lips softly, “You want it right here, sugar?”

Public indecency be damned—you need something. It’s not like you’re close to the store where people mill about, with Jack always preferring to park a ways away so there’s minimal risk of someone scratching the sleek and shiny paint of the Bronco. There’s no one around, it’s just you two… just you two, in your own little piece of bliss. 

You pant softly into his mouth while nodding, fire growing up and along your spine as his rough fingers start to push up beneath the hem of your sundress. You’re already squirming from the familiar feel of them, system wired tightly in keen anticipation to feel them brush against you.

“You’re a greedy little thing today,” he murmurs, fingers coaxing your thighs to widen as they begin to dip their way beneath the waistband of your underwear.

A groan reverberates from his chest when he gently glides them along your slit to feel the heavy build up of arousal, taking a painfully long moment to simply feel you, before zoning in on your clit with the lightest of pressures. He circles softly over it, darkened eyes bouncing over your features as you relish in the hazy roll of pleasure taking over your body.

He ducks to press a series of open mouthed kisses to the side of your throat, teeth teasingly nipping at the sensitive skin and tongue soothing the brief pinch of pain away before the curve of his nose traces the shell of your ear. His honeyed drawl brings a shiver across your skin, and it really should be fucking illegal with the things it makes you feel.

“You been walkin’ around like this all morning, honey? You poor thing.”

Finally—God, finally—he allows his fingers to dip down and tease at your entrance, swirling two thick digits shamelessly through your arousal before sliding and curling them deep against the walls of your cunt. He’s quick to swallow the broken sounds that fall from your throat, his lips quirking up into a self satisfied smirk against yours as your hips squirm needily against the pressure of his hand.

“Go on, sugar. Take what you need, I’ve got you.”

You begin a somewhat messy rock of your hips, unashamedly beginning to fuck yourself on his fingers and ensuring to keep the calloused heel of his hand pressed up hard against your swollen clit. It provides the friction you need, you crave, with every back and forth roll against the rough surface of it causing the overwhelming heat in your core to build.

It’s just what you need. It’s just—it’s perfect. The feel of his thick digits dragging against your hot, slick walls; the relentless pressure against your clit; the perfect harmony of both working in tandem to bring a wash of electricity across your nerves, to bring you closer to that blissful edge you feel coming with every tense second—

“G-god, Jack—”

“I know, baby. I know.”

And… fuck. It’s right there, you’re right there—

—only for it to be just out of reach.

The feeling heightens, lingers, and then horrifically melts away into a throbbing ache as Jack retracts his fingers completely, the thick digits glistening from your flood of arousal in the sunlight filled cab.

He ignores your agonised cry of denial from the sudden loss and emptiness, and sucks them into his mouth, before reaching and turning the keys in the ignition, the truck rumbling to life loudly beneath you while you’re left trembling against the leather, thighs spread and cunt weeping.

“That’s what you get for bein’ impatient,” he drawls, a wicked shine to those warm honey eyes. “Now you sit pretty for the ride home, and I may be nicer when I get that sweet ass of yours inside.”

[crepezinhos]

Kaeya’s and Diluc’s Magazine

(Masturbation Headcannons for Kaeya and Diluc, both x FEM!Reader)

KAEYA’S POV: You are Kaeya’s girlfriend and you two work together for the Knights of Favonius. You’ve recently sent into a mission without him and he’s missing you so much his brains gave him the perfect idea to satisfy his longing for it.

DILUC’S POV: You are Diluc’s wife and you two work together for the Dawn Winery. During an event at his home, Diluc felt a really weird Déjà vu when he saw you wearing a maid dress to fit the event and discovered through what it was.

⚠️ WARNINGS:

— This is obviously NSFW piece

— Contains mentions of pornography

— Reader uses SHE/HER pronouns

— Contains kinky topics such as: masturbation, strip-teasing, blow jobs and roleplaying

KAEYA ALBERICH:

Kaeya isn't the kind of guy to masturbate frequently at all since he would have sex with you whenever you both felt horny. But you've been on that stupid mission Jean sent you for almost a month and Kaeya was starting to become impatient. He's a little addicted in having sex, but not enough to cheat on you or do bad things just to feel the sensation. So, for now, his only option was to wait for you to come back.

Kaeya sighed as he sat down in his bed. It was late and he needed to sleep early, but he just wasn't feeling sleepy. He missed you sleeping by his side or on top of his chest, your smooches, your smile... but for some reason, his sexual desires were screaming way louder. Kaeya shook his head trying to replace the beautiful memories he had with you, with quick flashbacks of the last time you guys had sex, about a week before the mission started. It was a simple quickie against the wall in his room, but that surprisingly was enough to get him excited.

His crotch slightly pulsed, urging for more, and Kaeya obeyed his body's wishes and dug further in search of more memories of you two having sex.

The more he'd remember, the more his body wished, so Kaeya just wouldn't stop digging.

But the perfect idea came to his mind.

You know... Kaeya's flirty personality started to grow on him when he became a teenager and started to experience hormones. He was silly, perverted and annoying enough to keep joking with his big brother Diluc's crush at that time: Jean, telling him dirty thoughts between Diluc and her, knowing he was too shy and embarrassed to admit he had his desires. But the peak of his puberty was when he decided to shoplift a porn magazine from a store with the unintentional help of his brother, that fell on the trick for being too innocent. It wasn't THAT pornographic. The magazine only had pictures of women suggestively posing in kinky outfits with dick-shaped objects. It didn't have boobs, lower parts or too much skin exposed at all, but the directors obviously made it teasing so the men would wish more and more to see what was under those clothes and buy more and more of their magazines.

Where did Kaeya hide it, you ask? Right under his feet! He wasn't dumb enough to simply put it under his bed or mix with other books in a shelf, he put it under his floor! As soon as that memory ticked in his mind, he jumped out of the bed and crawled in his 4s, immediately starting to quickly run and click the planks with his hands, looking for the trembly one. Once he felt one go shake up and down way too much for a simple click, he hooked the plank and threw it to a corner behind him of the room. The magazine jumped and bounced as a result of being closed tight after so many years. And as he finally put his both hands into it and pulled it out vertically, his eyes shone and a hand of dust fell out of the magazine.

Oh... what a relief! It wasn't damaged at all! No foldings in the corners, no cuts or holes, only the colors were damaged by time and were now pretty vintage. But Kaeya is a fan of it, so a smirk appeared.

He didn't waste his time and jumped back to his spot on his bed. Legs already spread open and page 1 opened. His smirk widened in nostalgia as he saw the first women in that pair of pages, but a flashback of him seeing the bunny girl in page 45 for the first time and falling in love with her beauty immediately, unconsciously led him to open the magazine on that page, skipping all the other ones.

And there she was! A white woman with her back arched, butt and a smirky face facing the reader while holding on a strip pole. Kaeya closed his lips and eyes, imagining the same woman but as his lover, pulling his dick out of his pants and leaning down at the same time. You looked terrifically sexy, especially because he could imagine your buttocks slowly moving. He decided to go further and made your back arch more and more into his direction, making his vision of your pussy grow, alongside the speed of his hands.

He also started making you say a lot of dirty things he always wanted to hear from you to influence his hands to go faster.

"Do you like what you see, Kaeya?" You said, giving emphasis to his name as you leaned your ass closer to him to it's limit. Neither you or Kaeya knew that he loved when his name came out of your mouth when it's sexual. It was his first time "hearing" you do it. Now he could only see your brown buttocks, the black pantie area of the suit barely covering your pussy and a hole between it and your tights where he could easily slide his cock into.

"Hummm... yes..." He moaned and his head arched back in the pillow as he changed his hand shape to make it look like he was thrusting your tights. An "O" shape with his middle finger and thumb. "Oh Y/N... you look so glamorous..." He pressed the magazine with his other unoccupied hand against his chest.

"And what if I did this..?" Your image said as it turned to Kaeya and kneeled in front of him.

Your unconscious movements caught him by surprise and were perfectly copying the image of the woman in page 69. That was a special page because of its number where there were many images of girls in 69 position with objects simulating dicks. Kaeya opened his eyes, taking a look at his own strength working to make feel him pleasure before pulling back the magazine to his face and sliding some pages. He managed to stop right at the page, so he instantly met an image of a nurse licking a fat syringe nearby the "patient's" pelvis in 69 position. Oh Christ, that made him groan... only if he had you doing that to him on that costume at the moment...

But that wasn't what you were doing on his previous image. So Kaeya slides some pages back in search of an image that looked like you and stopped at page 17 accidentally. The page only had a single picture of a bunny girl supposedly moving her big boobs up and down with a strip pole in the middle of them, simulating what Kaeya was doing: masturbation. That was a trigger to immediately change the image of you to exactly what the woman in the picture was doing.

"What do you prefer, Kaeya?" You asked, still kneeling and no context, with your both hands sneaking between your tights, waiting impatiently for his answer.

"Mouth... use your mouth..." He groaned in exhaustion of repeating the same movement over and over quickly. Sweat was beginning to run down his face.

His eyes opened again, in search of an image to simulate what your image was about to do. He remembered that in page 18 the same woman was licking a carrot suggestively. He carefully slid a page there she was. He moaned loudly in surprise and his eyes shut down immediately. There you were, licking his dick like a toy. Kaeya was already beginning to get close to his climax, so as long as he was loving to touch his dick with an O-shaped hand, he had to undo it because of the extra energy it needed. Every single second had effort put into it, so your image wouldn't suddenly disfigure and change to anything else when he was in such a serious moment.

But unfortunately, that was about to end with the closure of his climax. He sat up, focusing more in the moment. He didn't know how would he prevent his cum from blowing all over his recently put white sheet. But honestly, he couldn't care less, that wouldn't stop him from doing it at all.

He put the magazine aside, smashing it into the bed with his free and, that contributed as a support for his position. He didn't have energy to moan anymore, so his noises reduced to quick breathless hicks. And when he finally felt it, he leaned forward and put both his hands on top of his tip, preventing his cum from exploding everywhere.

His body collapsed in the bed after the feeling was over. Christ... that was exhausting.

After a very long sigh, he finally got up and walked to the bathroom to wash his hands. He also brushed his hair since it looked very unstable after that moment and finally returned to his bed.

He obviously felt tired but still not enough to sleep, somehow. So, before he actually tried sleeping, he decided to take a look at the entire magazine, for the nostalgia feeling after almost 20 years.

DILUC RAGVINDR:

Diluc is also not the type of guy to masturbate frequently. He isn't as sexually active as his brother, but still is a very kinky man when you two have sex. It's his ultimate dark secret, he doesn't even tell you the stuff he'd like to try for the sake of tradition. But, today, his instincts were screaming louder.

He's trying his best, he needs to finish those paperworks by tomorrow, but the images he was having were begging him to give hisself a break of work.

What happened? Well... today there was a festival in Mondstadt located at his winery and the female volunteers or participants had to wear a maid dress to fit the event. Technically, there really was nothing wrong with it, the dresses weren't inappropriate at all. But still, when Diluc saw his wife dressing it, he felt something... he couldn't describe it, but like a memory trying to break into his mind after many, MANY years. Most of the time, his eyes were staring at you, wondering what was so special on you wearing that dress. Until...

"Dude, you realize you've been staring at her this entire time, right?" The familiar voice of his brother scared him for a brief moment and he got angry at what Kaeya pointed out, but preferred to not answer.

"She kinda looks like-... actually, never mind." Kaeya suggested and Diluc was shocked to see Kaeya recognizing it faster than him.

"What? Tell me."

"Hum... I'm not really sure... it's kinda disres-"

"I don't care. Say it."

"Ok, ok! Do you remember that magazine we had when we were 16?" Diluc's eyes widened in shock and anger.

But... that's what Diluc has been looking for that entire time. The dresses really seemed identical, the pornographic ones were just way more slutty. Now... his problems start here. You and most of the maids were using brown leggings that censored most of the original color of your skin and he wondered if you were using a lingerie underneath that dress. He wanted to pull your dress up to see your pair of tights, but his brother was more worrying right now.

"How do you remember that..?" Diluc asked with a little bit of disgust.

"The maids were your favorite... I caught you simping for those maids MULTIPLE times." He answered truthfully but couldn't avoid the silly, low laughs.

Diluc's puzzle was finally completed. The image that he was looking for, came fresh just like it used to be when Diluc first read the magazine.

His favorite image. The one he'd always picture in his head when he was horny. The one he used to view Jean in.

It was a maid with her back arched and holding a broom as a support. There was a text above her "Punish me, master!" that perfectly matched her childishly teary face. There was also a man in the picture using a suit and with a single hand holding the girl's ass under her underwear, making it twice as teasing as the image was naturally. You couldn't see the man's face or neck as well, so the focus will be 100% focused on the maid.

You know who else also dresses elegantly just like the man in the image ever since he was a teenager? Diluc. That means, Diluc sees himself on the image more than anyone else. He has always been dressing suits and coexisted with maids. That doesn't mean he necessarily was dirty-minded to his maids, he actually never was dirty-minded at all. He'd only take looks at the magazine when Kaeya AND his father weren't home, just to make sure he'd be safe when he'd touch himself. Because only God knows how many times Kaeya caught him in the act.

Now, Diluc couldn't stop remembering the times he'd touch himself to that image and what did he imagine while doing so. Poor Jean was always the victim... but now, obviously all he could think of was you.

He could imagine you two against a wall, his clothed dick making contact with your buttocks while you said stuff he'd imagine as a child as well.

"I'm sorry for breaking your father's vase, my master~..." You moaned, taking a peak at him with your left eye.

Your face was red and teary just like the maid, hands gently touching the wall.

"I'm ready for my punishment..." You arched your back more and more, pushing and caging his dick between his pants and the vale between your buttocks.

His imaginary hand slides under your baby pink panties.

Why this color? Well... that was also the color the maid was using in the picture to make a contrast between the black and white palette (and attracting the reader's gaze).

He slowly pulled them off, making every single second of it painful to you. He didn't even bother taking it all off, he just left it hanging on your knees. You were already wet, favoring even more his job at the moment. And it didn't take seconds for him to completely get his dick inside you.

The real Diluc felt butterflies and accidentally grunted. Poor boy didn't even realize he had been rubbing his hand on his cock this entire time, still in his pants (surprisingly). He stopped everything to take a look at himself. The way his cock was THAT hard was embarrassing in his view. He’s supposed to be a classy and respectful man to everyone and especially his wife.

But his kinky self just couldn’t stay hidden in the back of his brain anymore.

Should he really do it? Right there? Right now?

...

...

...

"Ok..." He said to himself, closing the archive he was looking and pulling the picture he had of you closer to his gaze.

It was a beautiful picture of you and him in your marriage, the happiest moment of his life. He shouldn't use such a golden memory to picture you, but it didn't really matter anymore, he had already pulled his dick out and he'd do it for the sake of the pleasure he hasn't felt in years.

Back to the main part, there he was, thrusting you right in your weakest spots, very slowly, enjoying every single breathless moan coming out of you.

As the traditionalist Diluc was grown to be, he felt more pleasure being on top, and that was honestly his favorite position. He liked to make you tiptoe in order to kale you extra vulnerable against him, and that was exactly what he was doing to your image right now. You already had your panties hanged and now, both your legs.

Diluc put his hand in his face in order to mute his moans from the outside. It would be too embarrassing for anyone to see such a grown and respectful man doing things like that, so he really wanted to prevent anybody from coming in. He knew the door of his office was unlocked, so his eyes would stare it like a predator, ready to change positions if anybody decided to come in.

But the more his door didn't move, the more he allowed himself to go faster and harsher in his own body.

"M-Master Diluc..!~" You screamed, multiple times.

He released one of his hands off your hips and smacked your ass once and hard.

"Quiet down. I don't want us to be heard." He growled in your ear, sort of messaging his real self at the same time.

He was becoming frustrated. He'd usually become frustrated when you two were having intimacy because it was the main way he could de-stress after his long, hard-working days.

"P-Please~..! I-I can't keep quiet~..! You're going too hard~..!" You moaned, trying to turn your head to him desperately.

Diluc stopped thrusting.

"If you can't keep up with my rules, you will suffer more punishment." Diluc mired your defenseless figure breathing heavily.

"Master, please..!" Your voice didn't sound too breathless or pleasurable. That annoyed him. You're supposed to be begging, moaning and whimpering for him.

Without any warning, Diluc released a hand of your waist again and put it on your hair, pulling it to his direction, thrusting you harsh at the same time. The scream that escaped was insanely high your back immediately arched to its maximum again.

"Then, I guess you’d rather show everybody how slutty you are under your cute little maid dress." He whispered, increasing his pace as his hand on your head did not move.

You weren't holding back any of your moans, which made Diluc angrier and angrier. He released his right hand from your waist as well and started smacking your ass repeatedly whenever he felt you moaned too loudly.

Your head was barely functioning, it was too many things to process for your considerably tiny body. You could only moan and hold your drool until you'd reach your very late orgasm.

The real Diluc was becoming unable to hide some of his pants and groans. Even if he was containing his moans, it wasn’t enough to contain his volume. When Diluc noticed that his dick was starting to slightly ache, his eyes widened in search of the tissues he had in the corner of his table. His nose isn't too resistant to cold and he'd keep those tissues there so he wouldn't make pointless pauses during his working sessions. But for the first time he'd use one of those to something like that. He even thought about cumming in your picture to visualize his dirty thoughts better, but it was too golden for such a disgusting thing like what he was doing.

The more Diluc fastened his movements, the closer his head got his table, eventually laying it down from exhaustion. That was also helpful to quiet down his noises and less exhausting than keeping his hands in the air and making it difficult for his blood circulation.

After some seconds in that position, Diluc finally blowed. His free hand was quick enough to put that tissue he grabbed on top of his dick before the actual thing. He hissed and grunted until the whole orgasm was done and threw himself in the chair.

He kept staring at the rooftop meanwhile his breath slowly went back to normal. He couldn't believe he had just masturbated for a fucking link that he got after reading a porn magazine he hasn't seen in years. His eyes closed in frustration at himself.

It seemed that doing that actually helped him.

He felt normal again. No more dirty thoughts, no more porn magazines… it’s just him again.

Diluc sighed in relief. No one had caught him.

He also wondered if he should ask you tonight if you two could try new things next time you guys would have sex, like the scenario he just thought about. But that kinda made him feel bad. You were such a wonderful woman. You controlled the chores in the house, you decided what was dinner going to be, you prepared parties, you made some businesses around and way more! He felt terrible of asking you to take another burden in one of the few moments where you two could express and take all that stress out of your bodies.

But doing it in missionary over and over was getting a little boring in Diluc’s mind, now that he had thought about doing it step by step against a wall.

Well, it doesn’t matter anymore. Duty calls him and he needs to read through and sign those documents by tomorrow. So he breathed in and lifted his chest again, beginning to flip through the pages of the documents he was messing some minutes ago.

“I mean… the worst she could say is “No”, right? It’s a 50/50 thing, so… she could accept it… right?” Diluc wondered his final thought to hisself while looking for the page where he stopped at.

[hellcat8908]

Hello. Hope you are doing well. I saw this meme where u know the girl is at the dinner table with her parents and bf. She asks "daddy" to pass the salt and her dad and bf both do and its a very messy situation.

I was wondering if u could write something where the reader is either feysands daughter or rhys sister. She is azriels mate but they have kept their relationship a secret; that situation happens at dinner with the ic beig absolutly shocken. Az gives an excuse saying it was in his reach. Then as days go by the they try to touch eachother in public privatley but someone or the other is catching them and they move away quickly. Finally rhys finds az and his daughter or sister doing it. Chaos occurs. Also try is show a lot of overprotective rhys and maybe include nyx in this? Him being the eldest child ofcourse.

Thank you and have an amazing day ahead!

Wrong Daddy Azriel x Female Reader

Growing up, you had spent more time with your brother, Rhys, than your actual dad. He was always the one to look after you and make sure you were cared for, especially after your mom had passed. You naturally started calling him daddy, and it had stuck. You still did it occasionally as an adult as it had become a term of endearment.

After years of falling for Azriel, the bond finally snapped into place after he had been injured in the war. You both agreed it would be best to keep your relationship a secret, given how protective Rhys was of you. Now that Nyx was old enough, he became just as protective of his favorite aunt.

It was the weekly dinner at the river house you were seated across from Azriel, and Rhys was beside him next to Feyre. Food was being passed around, and once your plate was full, you started eating. "Daddy, can you pass the salt, please?" You ask. Rhys and Azriel reach for the salt at the same time. As soon as Azriel realizes his mistake, he quickly tries to cover, "Sorry, I just thought since I was closer, it only made sense." He says, keeping his expression neutral.

"She asked me to pass it to her." Rhys says, looking suspiciously at Azriel. "Right, sorry." He says, hoping to move on from this awkward moment. "I don't care who passes me the salt as long as someone does." You say with a laugh trying to difuse the situation. Nyx passes you the salt. "Thank you." You tell him. Azriel turns his attention back to his plate, and Rhys does the same.

You can feel the tension between the two of them and start to discuss Feyre's most recent painting. Soon, the conversations turn to normal, and everyone enjoys the rest of the meal. You excuse yourself and make your way out to the garden. Not long after, you feel a presence behind you before you feel Azriel's arms around you.

"That was almost a disaster." You say as you lean into his embrace. "Sorry." He says, "I almost ruined everything." You turn in his arms, "We're eventually going to have to tell them." You say resting your head against his chest. He's about to respond when he quickly creates some distance between you before you hear footsteps. "Everything okay?" You hear Rhys ask as he approaches.

You put on a smile, "Of course, just needed some fresh air." You answer him before looking at the night sky. "No matter how many times I see them, the stars are always beautiful." He says following your gaze. "They truly are." You admit sending love down the bond to Azriel. You catch his smile out of the corner of your eye before he excuses himself.

Over the next few days, it seems like you can't get any time with him without being interrupted. After updating Rhys on recent rumors amongst the Illyrians, he comes to find you in the library. You're reshelving books on the lower levels away from prying eyes. Azriel comes up behind you and wraps his arms around you as you stand on your tip toes to reach a shelf.

You quickly spin to face him, pressing your lips against his. "What if one of the priestess comes down here?" He asks as your hands roam down his body, cupping him through his pants. "They never come down this far." You assure him, trailing kisses along his neck. "Please, Az. I need you so badly." You practically beg as your hand slips inside his leathers.

"I can't say no to you." He says before his lips are back on yours. You feel your skin flush with warmth as he pulls you to him, sliding his hand under your shirt. You get so lost in the feel of each other that you don't hear the footsteps approaching. "What the fuck is going on?!" Rhys's voice echoes off the shelves. In an instant he is upon Azriel and lands a blow to his chin before he can react.

"Rhys, Stop!" You shout but he ignores you as he continues his assault on Azriel who is now blocking what he can and landing a few of his own. "Both of you stop!" You demand as you try to pull Rhys off of him. In Rhys's fury he manages to slam you back into the railing. The back of your head hitting the top of the railing causing you to get dizzy. Only once they realize what happened do they stop to check on you. Rhys quickly kneeling in front of you asking if you're okay.

"You shoved me." You answer expressing your shock. "I'm sorry, it was an accident. You know I would never intentionally hurt you." He says sounding panicked. "I want Azriel." You say as your vision blurs. "I'm here, angel. What can I do to help?" He says kneeling beside you. "Get Madja." Is all you manage to say before blacking out as your adrenaline wears off.

As you wake up you hear muffled voices. They slowly become clearer as you come to. You blink your eyes trying to adjust to the darkness. "None of this would've happened if you had kept your hands off of her!" Rhys tells Azriel. "Well if you had listened to her and stopped when she asked twice this wouldn't have happened." Azriel responds before his gaze turns to you.

"How are you feeling, angel?" He asks as he sits on the edge of your bed. "My head hurts." You answer softly. "You've got a pretty nasty bump, it's going to hurt for awhile." He says. "Do you need me to get you anything? A drink? Something to eat? You've been out for awhile." He says softly not trying to cause your head to hurt any worse. "Water would be good." You answer. "I'll be right back with that." He says giving you a soft smile.

Once he closes the door behind him you turn your attention to Rhys. "What the hell was that about?" You ask angrily. "I caught my best friend with my sister, what did you expect." You roll your eyes. "I expected you to act like an adult and not get into a physical fight with your best friend." You answer. "I was trying to protect you!" He says.

"Azriel is the last person I need protection from!" You shout as Azriel walks back into the room, "He's your best friend, and he's my mate." You announce. Rhys's face falls, "How long?" He asks, glaring at Azriel. "Since the war." Azriel answers for you. "And I'm just now finding out about this. Why?" He asks. "Because she was worried about how you would react and what it would mean for you and I." Azriel says plainly.

You send a flood of love and thankfulness along the bond to Azriel. He hands you the water letting you take a drink before placing it on the nightstand. "I'm happy for you both, its just going to take some getting used to." Rhys says, rubbing the back of his neck. "Thank you." You tell him softly. "Don't thank me yet, if you hurt her I'll send Nyx after you." Rhys teases, "good luck telling him."

"I better let you get some rest. Azriel, you better take good care of her." Rhys says. "Always will." He answers. "I truly am sorry I hurt you, I never meant to." Rhys says, turning his attention to you. "I know." You say with a smile before he kisses the top of your head. He takes his leave, and Azriel lets loose a sigh, "At least he didn't kill me." He says with a smile. "True, but I have a splitting headache." You tell him giving him a pouty face. "Daddy, please take care of me." You say. He climbs in bed and cuddles up beside you, "Anything for you, angel."

[mika-no-sekai-blog]

Spymaster

Azriel's week: Day 2

Hosted by: @azrielappreciationweek

Word count: 1000+

Rhysand's claws gently knocked on your mind and you let him in. Could you come to my office for a sec, dear? he asked you.

I'm on my way, you answered and put the book aside. Claws left the feeling of soft caress on their way out.

You opened the door to Rhys' office just to be met with broad shoulders of Shadowsinger standing on the other side. " I know what my job is," you heard him say. Apparently they were discussing something important.

"Should I come later?" you peeked from behind him.

"No, Y/N," Rhys smiled. "It's about you, too. The answer to our request came from Day Court in the morning. You can go and use their library."

"That's great. Thank you. I will prepare and go first thing in the morning," you smiled, too, and you looked to where Azriel stood. You hadn't seen him since the day you visited your parents. Corners of his mouth lifted up in tight smile.

"Okay, so it's set," Rhysand nodded. "I almost forgot. Azriel here will go with you. He will keep you safe."

You wanted to object, but you knew it would be useless. He had already made up his mind. "Fine," you gave him nervous smile. "So.. I'm going to prepare." And with that you left.

Next morning you found Azriel waiting in front of your room, silently leaning to the wall with hands in pockets. "Ready?" he asked instead of greeting. You nodded.

Shadowsinger pushed off of the wall and led you to the roof. He took a look around and exhaled deeply before turning to you. He gave you tight smile and reached out to you. Startled you backed few steps. His eyes narrowed on you, studying your face, then he grinned. "We won't fly all the way to Day Court. Once we get out of the wards we will winnow." You teased your lower lip with teeth.

"I know. You just surprised me." Azriel huffed.

"So can we now?" he cocked head to the side offering you scarred hand in black glove. You hesitantly accepted it.

When you arrived to Day Court, you were greeted by Helion himself. You thanked him and handed over letter from Rhysand. After that you went straight to the library. You already knew which books you needed to obtain the information you were looking for, so you assumed it would take you max two days and you could head back home.

Azriel was still with you, walking few steps behind and like some bodyguard eyeing anybody who got too close, but when you sat down with the first book, he disappeared somewhere.

You so immersed yourself in the reading that you didn't notice that it was already evening and all scholars and librarians had left.

"How is it going?" deep night-kissed voice hummed next to your ear and you jumped up. Azriel was leaning over you, looking at the page you were reading. You didn't hear him come.

You shakily exhaled. "Fine. I think I need one more day and we can return."

"You don't need to hurry," his brows furrowed and fingers drummed on the table.

"I know," you pointed to a pile of written papers. "But I'm almost done."

Azriel's eyes searched your face and his lips pulled into thin line, obviously thinking about something. Then he leaned so close that his lips tickled your ear. "I need you to extend it," he whispered.

Frozen in place you swallowed hard. "Why?" you whispered back.

"Not now and definitely not here. We should go to our rooms anyway," he looked around, his voice grave. You put the book you were reading back to the shelf and followed Shadowsinger back to the palace.

Helion gave you bedrooms connected by small resting room with comfortably looking armchairs placed around the fireplace and round dining table for two. Servant brought you dinner shortly after you stepped into the room.

"It seems that somebody from Autumn Court is here looking for something and Rhysand wants to know what Beron is after. I followed them all day, but I'll need time to find out more." You nodded slowly.

You were waiting patiently for Azriel to explain why he asked you to play for time, but he still didn't say a single word, possibly forgetting all about it. You couldn't take it any longer and while the two of you were eating alone, you asked him about it. He didn't answer right away, probably waiting for his shadows to check out the place.

"What about Helion?"

"He had no idea they are here. Rhysand explained everything in the letter you gave him, but he can't interfere. At least not directly. So will you help me now?"

"Of course. I will try to extend our stay as long as possible."

"Thank you," he gave you small smile, his fingers brushed over your knuckles making your heartbeat speed up. Blushing fiercely you pretended to be preoccupied with the food and after that you retired to your bedroom.

Three days passed since you promised Azriel to postpone your return for as long as possible. You spent your days in library while Azriel spied on Autumn Court's people and gathered information that could possibly save a lot of lives in the future. You felt so small, useless and unimportant compared to him.

Usually Azriel walked you to the library in the morning and came to pick you up in the evening, but it was getting quite late and he hadn't appeared yet. Therefore you decided to return on your own. He most likely knew about your every step anyway, so he shouldn't have problem finding you.

You walked through city heading back to the palace while enjoying fresh evening air and looking at windows of already closed shops. You didn't notice you were followed. Not until they attacked you, putting some cloth bag on your head.

"Your spy foiled our lord's plans and now someone has to pay for it, but it won't be us," you heard them as they dragged you to who knows where. You tried to fight them, to scream, but there had to be something in that bag because soon enough you began to feel nauseous and passed out.