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#i know he had his own agendas when he was trying to turn his little brother into the perfect weapon against zeus
corvidexoskeleton · 4 months
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Rethinking the dynamics between kratos and the gods in the og series through the lens of siblings versus their shared dad makes things a lot more, idk, tragic? Kratos starting out as the older brother taking care of his little brother, then going on to seek his own older brother's help, ares trying to train his younger brother so that they could one day take down their shitty dad, and athena just trying to keep things together so that her siblinga don't all gang up on dad and kill him. Theres something about it that makes me sad
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mattybsgroupie · 3 months
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sleepover | matt sturniolo
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contents: established relationship; handjob (m receiving); thigh riding (f); p in v; creampie; mommy kink; sub!matt
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notes: i wrote two dom!matt fics in a row i do not recognize myself. back to the sub!matt agenda, somebody has got to do it, i am the chosen one!!! (please it’s a trump meme) this is a silly little one i wrote cuz i’ve been dreaming some weird things these last few days and i’d very much like to fuck matt afterwards. not proofread but hope you enjoy it. always so thankful for every like, comment, reblog and follow, love y’all sm ♡ btw next week i might post a chris request i got idkkk
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i woke up out of breath, sweat dripping from my forehead as i tried to calm down. it was a nightmare - a terrible one, where i no longer had matt and no matter how much i’d scream, my voice wouldn’t come out. my phone buzzed, the screen lighting up the ceiling and part of my room. it was 3am.
i reached for the nightstand, first taking a sip of water and then grabbing my cellphone, checking my notifications. i had one missed call from matt and two other messages, which only read “babe, you up?”
i felt as the weight of the world had been lifted off my shoulders, my chest gradually lowering as i got more relaxed. i smiled and speed dialed the first number on my list.
“why are you awake!” matt picked up in a surprised tone, not really waiting for my answer. “i just texted you, did you feel it coming or something?” he giggled.
“hi, babe” i said, my voice still shaky. “i just woke up, actually”
“what happened?” matt asked me once again, clearly concerned as he heard how i sounded. i gulped and gave a few taps on my chest as i rested my back on the headboard. “what is it, hm? bad dream?”
“uhum” i nodded, even though he couldn’t see me. he knew i’d soon be curled up between the sheets, trying to fall asleep again. “what about you babe? can't sleep?” i asked, already knowing the response.
matt sighed and i could picture him running his fingers through his hair, trying to not upset me “anxious”.
“i’m sorry to hear that, matty” i pouted from the other side of the screen. “do you wanna facetime?” i suggested what we had done plenty of times. we’d be facing each other, talking nonsense until one of us fall asleep - of course, when things didn’t take a turn to either matt’s or my own horniness.
“actually… was thinking about coming over” i smiled, but he couldn’t see it. he always made me feel like a teenage girl, changing the reason of my nervousness to something silly, like him coming over.
“no way, you’re not getting the road right now” i said, playing hard to get.
“what?” matt sounded confused. “why not?!”
“it’s late and i worry about you” i responded. “don’t you have something schedule for tomorrow?”
“i don’t give a fuck” matt said, “i wanna be with you right now, do you wanna be with me?” i nodded and as if he could see me from there, he continued. “please, mommy?”
“i’m waiting!” i jokingly hang up on him after gasping by the nickname, as if it was too bold of him to call me that.
- ♡ -
i heard three knocks on my bedroom door and didn’t bother getting up. i rolled myself on the bed, waiting for him to join me.
“did i take too long?” matt asked, biggest smile on his face. he locked the door and quickly came next to me, lying down by my side.
“yeah, you know mommy doesn’t like to wait” matt widened his eyes, gulping at my words, realizing what he had done over the phone.
“i just said that so you could let me come over” he said, acting tough as he rolled his eyes before resting his head above my chest, snuggling into me.
“oh, that’s too bad” i pouted, my fingers running through his hair. “you got me all worked up…”
matt quickly raised his head, blue eyes staring at me in surprise, grin growing on his face. “did i? really?”
“of course, my good boy always gets me going” i teased, matt’s cheeks turning red. “why? you came here to sleep?”
“i mean” he started, grabbing my waist, turning my body over and changing our positions. he was now under me, his hands resting on my hips while i adjusted myself in order to get comfortable on his lap. “not anymore”.
matt leaned in for a kiss, holding the back of my head and bringing us closer. i could feel his beard slightly tickling my face as he deepened the pressure of his lips against mine, silently asking to go further by sticking his tongue and teasing me. i opened my mouth and matt’s tongue quickly slid in, the wet sounds taking over my darkened room.
one of matt's hand moved to my breasts, massaging it over the shirt. i gasped for the sudden contact, pulling away from the kiss, which led him to go to my neck instead. he trailed his lips down, altering between biting and licking my skin. my hands went to his hair once again, tangling my fingers on his curls.
matt lowered his head and stopped right above my nipple before looking at me with needy puppy eyes. i nodded vigorously, but instead of removing my shirt, matt hid his face underneath it, streching the cloth in order to fit inside. i felt his wet tongue teasing my nub and since i could no longer pull his hair, i rested my hands on his bare thighs. as matt started to swril his tongue, i threw my head back and couldn't help but start to move my hips forward, trying to get some friction to my already wet pussy.
i let out a moan when his free went to my other boob, his thumb circling the hardened nub that poked through the shirt. i wanted to look at him - wanted to see how his beard looked like rubbing against my skin, which color the hickeys he left would be, how much would the saliva run down my torso.
with my eyes closed and feeling matt sucking my tits, i tried to touch the hem of my shirt in order to remove it, i couldn't stand one more second without looking at his eyes again - however, my palm met something harder, covered by a soft fabric. i groped his shaft and received a muffled moan from matt, still busy in my tits. now with my eyes open i could finally take my clothes off, revealing matt with his messy hair, beard wet from rubbing his face against his own kisses, lips swollen.
“look at me baby” i called and carressed his cheek, “you said you wanted to sleepover and now look at you, already a mess for mommy...”
“i'm s-sorry, mommy” he started, “can't help it, you taste so good”.
“yeah? did you miss me?” i teased, starting to drag myself over his thigh once again. “we saw each other two days ago”
“it's too much” matt complained, hands going to my hips, helping me set a proper pace. “needy again”, he glanced at tent on his shorts, where my palm rested.
“is mommy's baby needy?” i almost mocked him and he nodded pathetically, but still not letting me take full control as he started to pump his legs' muscles, making my pussy clench. i opened my mouth, but nothing came out of it. matt's grip tighetned and he forced my body down, completely leading my movements.
“mommy seems needy as well” matt spoke, smashing his lips against mine. i let out a frustrated whine, wanting to feel more - i needed him inside of me. “aren't you?”
“yes- fuck” i said, trying to come back to my senses regain control of the situation “babe, be a good boy for me hm?"”
when i finally stroked matt's boner, his hands rapdly went to my ass, both palms groping it harshly as i entered inside his pants. i wrapped my fingers around his aching cock, and being the good boy he was, matt lifted up his hips, allowing me to pull down his shorts and reveal his hardened dick. he touched my waistband in response, silently asking if he could do the same to me. i mimicked his moves, letting the fabric slide down my legs.
“thought i had told you to not wear panties to bed” he said, pulling the strings of my underwear. “isn't mommy supposed to be good as well?” matt was driving me crazy with all the teasing.
i suddenly started to move my fist up and down, quickly jerking him off. matt was used with me starting slow and building up his excitement until he climaxed. but tonight, it didn't seem like he wanted to be treated kindly. matt threw his head back and closed his eyes, groaning loudly “f-fuck!”
i brushed my thumb over his tip, matt’s body immediately reacting, jointing his hips forward into my fist. i dragged my finger on his slit as matt’s nails dig into my skin, spreading the pre-cum down his shaft. his breathing got heavier, chest rising and falling quickly while he bit every inch of skin he could reach.
“not talking back anymore?” i asked, gradually stopping my motions, receiving a groan in response.
“mommy, don’t be mean” he pleaded as his sneaky fingers made their way to my entrance, pulling my panties to the side. he kissed my neck, making my eyes roll as i melted into his touch.
“matthew” i caught his attention since i didn’t really use his full name often. “stopping teasing so fucking much and just fucking say it”. he widened his eyes before letting the grin grow wide on his face.
“please, please, please” he said, “ride me, momma”i immediately got out of his thigh, adjusting myself to be in between his legs. i could feel matt’s cock being lazily dragged against my now bare pussy, panties removed as soon as i got up.
i lowered myself on his shaft, nearing my throbbing cunt to his leaking tip. both of my hands went to matt’s shoulders, looking for balance as his grabbed my hips, helping me fully sit on his length. matt’s dick was huge, stretching my walls as he hid his face on the crook of my neck, tickling beard making me giggle as i tried to adjust myself to his size.
“wasn’t so hard, was it?” i asked, getting comfortable to move my hips up. as i started riding, matt wouldn’t say a word, only muffling moans in my ear. he denied with his head, whining as i fastened my pace.
“c-close” he said, gripping tighter. “mommy- fuck”
“hold for me baby” i spoke, already out of breath, bouncing harder on his dick. matt decided to stick his face on my boobs and dragged his tongue along my skin, biting my nipple and holding me by my waist, jointing his hips forward in order to reach his high quicker.
“yes baby, just like that” i praised, matt now pounding mindlessly into me. “good boy, good boy” and that’s what took for him to snap, groaning loudly as his cock twitched and he released the knot on his lower belly, spurts of his warm cum filling my insides.
his spasms brought me closer to the edge, but i wouldn’t stop riding him. i kept on bouncing on his cock, now in search of my own climax. “mommy- mommy, fuck!” matt cried from the overstimulation. his whimpers got louder and so did my moans as my orgasm washed over me, mouth hanging open with my trembling body as i came over matt’s shaft.
i was too tired to remove myself, letting my weight fall over him. matt rolled us over, both of us laying in my bed. he turned to the side and pulled out, the mix of our realeases running down my legs and staining my sheets. matt let out a chuckle as he wrapped his arms around me, bringing me closer to his chest.
“should we sleep now?” i asked, running my fingers through his tummy.
“kid” he called, pointing to my bedroom widow. “the sun is already up” he spoke - as if this was gonna stop us from sleeping till noon. “but that’s why i came here, right? sleepover”
“of course, you’re always so clever” i rolled my eyes and giggled, allowing my body to relax next to his. i closed my eyes and knew that, while matt was around, the bad dreams would no longer come.
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taglist (drop a 🌸!): @thepubeburgler @submattenthusiast @pearlzier @mattsfavbitchhh @her-favorite @bugeyedgrl @mattswhore-44 @sturncakez @riowritesitall @joemamaaa42069 @mattttypooh @sturnsmia @sturnthepot
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gojoidyll · 4 months
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Back on my Boothill x Halovian!Reader agenda!! People want more, well, here's some more!! <3
feel free to request any boothill x halovian!reader scenarios cause I honestly like this dynamic heh
how you met
I imagine that Boothill was looking to buy a new hat. The old one got torn up in a gun fight, much to his dismay so he had to go get a new one, also to his dismay.
Cowboy hats were hard to come by surprisingly, but luckily he found just the store.
The store itself had an influx of clothes and other accessories that could be found anywhere and from any time. Cowboy hats included.
Now, when he walked into the shabby looking antique clothing store. He was surprised that there were actually quite a bit of customers, but he paid no mind to it because he maneuvered himself right to where he knew the hats were. And boy there was quite a selection. Luckily, however, it didn't take long to find one that matched his ... certain aesthetic. Grinning with that pointed grin of his, he reached for the hat that caught his eye, but only to be met with grabbing another hand.
"Huh"
He looked over and met a pair of eyes just as shocked as he was.
"Sorry about that sir. I was trying to get the hat behind the one you were getting."
It was you. A pretty little thing with wings sprouting behind your head. It was obvious to Boothill that you were a halovian. Though, he will admit that this was the first time he ever saw one up close and personal.
"That's alright, missy," he took off the hat that he wanted after letting go of her hand and even grabbed the hat she wanted to give it to her, "though, just so you know, I would of fought ya for this hat if need be."
The little laugh you let out was music to his ears. Damn, the rumors that halovians were angelic in everything they do must be true, was what he thought.
"Even if that was the case... I would win," you sent him a little wink before walking towards one of the nearest mirrors to check out how the hat looked on you. And Boothill does admit that he checked you a little before deciding to leave.
Though leaving proved to be harder than he thought. Especially when the cashier was trying to rob him of all the credits that he owned.
"Why you fudging little-"
It was an argument, alright. But what surprised him was the little gasp you let out when you came to wait for your turn at the cash register.
"Mister you can't... you can't say that!"
"Huh?"
It was the second time that day that that little confusion slipped out. However, when he looked at your appalled expression something sort of clicked in his mind.
He heard that halovians are able to communicate with others through their feelings. But, as far as Boothill knew, they could only do that with other halovians.
But judging by your expression, you heard every cuss word that left his lips.
He didn't know how you were able to do it, especially considering he wasn't fully human anymore nor a halovian. But in that moment he didn't care as he sported a wicked grin.
He just found himself a new translator until his synesthesia beacon was fixed.
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minisugakoobies · 10 months
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Hideaway | KHJ
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Pairing: Hongjoong x Gender Neutral Reader (AFAB) Genre: smut, crack, strangers to lovers, Frat Bro!AU Rating: M (18+) Warnings: smoking/edibles, stoner!hongjoong agenda, woosan side pairing, oral fixation (as in the author reader is obsessed with joong's mouth), to be fair it's a very filthy mouth, dry humping, biting/marking, tit pinching/sucking, fingering, hongjoong goes downtown & eats it like a vulture, aka cunnilingus, wet & messy, cum eating, a tiny bit of exhibitionism, accidental voyeurism Word Count: 7.1K Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own ATZ - they just inspire me
Summary: When your friend keeps dragging you to frat parties, all you want to do is find a place to hide and get high. You definitely don't expect to meet a man with a devilish smile and an even more wicked tongue.
A/N: Hello I'm back with more Ateez! This one's a very self-indulgent fic about getting high with Hongjoong. It all stemmed from discussions with @kiestrokes about what a gorgeous mouth Joong has 🥴 Lokie, I hope you enjoy what you've wrought 😜💕
Unbeta'd as usual. Like this fic? Want me to keep writing Ateez? Please let me know!
ATZ Masterlist 🍃 Main Masterlist
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One hour. That’s all San asked of you. Go to a party with him for one hour, because his crush was going to be there, and he needed your support. As his best friend and roommate, how could you say no? 
Two hours into the party, you’re wishing you’d put your foot down. You’re worn out from art studio this week, where it had been your turn to face group critique. Honestly, after that experience, you really don’t want to be around other people for a while. You long to crash on your couch with a stash of junk food and video games and not move until class on Monday. Instead, you’re holding up a wall in a frat house, watching your best friend dance with Wooyoung, the Alpha Tau Zeta brother who’d caught San’s eye. 
You’re happy for San, truly, but a bit surprised at how quickly things escalated from “OMG he’s so cute, do you think he’d dance with me?” to Wooyoung climbing your friend like the mountain he is. San looks completely lovestruck as the other man wraps his arms around his shoulders, and you sigh, resigned to your fate. 
San had promised that you’d leave together, saying he’d treat you to your favorite waffles at your favorite diner after the party, and you’d agreed, but now that means you’re stuck here for god knows how much longer. You could find him and tell him you changed your mind and you’re gonna go. He’d say okay, but he’d say it with that pout of his, and as long as you’ve known San, that pout has owned your weak ass, so there’s really no point. You’ll just wait.
However, hovering like a third wheel isn’t your idea of a good time, so you decide to find somewhere else to hang out. The room is packed with couples grinding, and you weave around them carefully, trying to avoid the beer sloshing about as a girl beside you really puts her back into it. The kitchen is just as cramped as the living room, a beer pong match taking up most of the space, so you keep wandering, until you come to the foyer, where there’s a staircase to the second floor. Wanting to put as much distance between yourself and the loud music, you start to climb. 
It’s much less crowded upstairs. There are a few people scattered along the hallway, talking in small groups, or heading into the bedrooms, all of which have closed doors. You’re a little afraid of what you might walk in on if you open one, so you keep moving, hoping to find a quiet spot to sit and hide. 
Instead, as you round a corner, you come to a dead end. But to your left, there’s a window that’s cracked ajar, night breeze just teasing you with enticing coolness after the rank humidity of the dance floor. You press your palms to the glass, peeking out. It looks like the window opens onto the roof of the back porch. 
Gently, you lift the sash until you can stick your head out. The roof is flat, not sloped. It’s fairly dark, with only the moon above and the string lights crisscrossing the yard providing a pale glow. And, most blessedly, it is devoid of other people.
As quickly as you can, you shimmy out the window.
The backyard is dotted with kiddie pools still full of jello from the last wrestling tournament. In between the pools, the ground is a squishy mess of colorful gelatin and disgusting mud, which means that there are very few partygoers outside right now, besides a handful that you can hear beneath you, hanging out on the porch. But they can’t see you, so you can live with that. 
Settling with your back pressed to the brick wall, you take a deep breath, relaxing. Even though it’s so late in the fall that the weather is already flirting with winter, it’s a nice night to be outside. The air is crisp, but you’re plenty warm in your sweater and jeans, toes tapping idly inside your boots. The moon plays hide and seek behind some passing clouds while you observe contentedly.
“No one’s supposed to be out here.” 
“Fuck!” You jump, so surprised to hear someone address you. The voice came from the shadows of the opposite corner of the roof, where another window mirrors the one you came through. 
There’s a short burst of laughter, and then someone leans into the light. 
Reddish-orange hair hangs over a dark brow, above eyes scrunched nearly closed in glee, further expressed by a full bottom lip twisting upwards in a smirk. As you will your racing heart to ease off, a guy you’ve never seen before carefully steps across the roof. He’s wearing an oversized t-shirt over a long-sleeved striped shirt and jeans. His shirt doesn’t have any letters on it, but he must be a brother here if he’s trying to tell you what to do. 
He’s almost unfairly gorgeous, this stranger who scared you nearly to death, and he’s laughing at you.
You attempt to recover your cool, leaning back against the wall again. “I didn’t see a sign.”
“It’s kind of unsaid.”
“Well, it kind of needs to be said,” you shoot back a little snappily, annoyed that your peace has been shattered. “You’re out here, too, you know.” 
“I live here.” 
“So that’s fine, then?” 
He grins, a wicked thing that has your neck flaming with sudden heat, and slides further out of the darkness, until he’s about an arms-length away. “Ok if I sit here?” 
“I mean, if unspoken rules don’t stop you, what’s me literally saying ‘no’ gonna do?” 
Another quick ratatat of laughter. “You’re funny.” He drops down beside you, tipping his head back to rest against the wall. 
You don’t say anything to his comment, waiting for him to say something else. Like explain why he’s out here or who he is to tell you where you can’t be or anything. A minute passes, then another. You hear the people on the porch heading back into the party and then there’s only the dull thumping of the music inside and the sound of the crickets chirping in the yard. 
You wonder if you should say something to the stranger, maybe explain why you’re out here, but he seems pretty content to sit quietly, and if he’s happy to remain silent, so are you. He doesn’t seem like he’s going to actually kick you off the roof, so you release the tension in your shoulders, inhaling deeply again, and match his pose, staring up at the sky. 
The wind stirs, brushing your cheek with gentle fingers.
“Not into parties?” 
You glance over when he finally speaks. His profile is striking - sharp jawline, straight nose with just the slightest upturn. It makes you wish you had your sketchbook with you. He’d make a lovely model right now, pretty face lit by the soft luminescence of the moon. 
“It’s not that. Just been a long week. I was planning on a quiet night in. But my roommate had other ideas.” 
“And now you’re stuck here, waiting for them?” 
You nod. The stranger hums. 
“Yeah, I can sympathize. Kinda hard to have a quiet night here, like… all the time.” 
It’s your turn to hum. “But… did you not know what you were signing up for when you joined a fraternity?” 
He laughs again. You’re starting to really like the sound. “Do I need to remind you that you’re not supposed to be out here?”
“Do I need to remind you?” 
“Fair.” 
Another comfortable silence. This is your type of stranger - one who respects the sanctity of quiet moments. After a few more minutes, you decide, fuck it, and reach into your crossbody, pulling out your vape pen. You’re not going to get high high while you wait for San, not the way you had planned to do if you were at home melding with the couch, but you can at least take the edge off. 
But before you do, you hold the pen out to the stranger. “Want a hit?” 
He raises an eyebrow, nods.  
Your gaze lingers maybe a few seconds too long as his lips wrap around the mouthpiece, drawing the smoke into his lungs and holding it there for a few seconds. He hands the pen back with an exhaled thanks. 
You take your turn, tipping your face up to momentarily blot out the stars with smoke. The light cherry flavor hangs on your tongue while you hand the pen back over without asking. The stranger takes another lungful.
“So… do you have a name?” 
“Of course I do,” you reply. Dumb questions get dumb answers. “Do you?”
His lips curl into a bright smile. “I do.” 
Another pass. You check your phone, just to make sure San hasn’t sent you any messages. He hasn’t. He’s probably affixed to Wooyoung’s gorgeous face by now.
“Hongjoong,” the stranger says after another inhale. “I’m Hongjoong.” 
“Nice to meet you, Hongjoong. Thanks for not throwing me off your roof.” 
“Thanks for the tokes.” 
He grins at you again, full teeth, and you can’t help but beam back. He really is rather cute - 
“Hongjoong! Are you out here again?”
One of the brothers you’d seen playing pong earlier has his head out the window behind Hongjoong. 
“Yeah, I’m here. What’s up, ‘Hwa?” 
The other man looks past Hongjoong, squinting into the darkness. “Is someone out there with you? You know no one’s suppo-”
“Seonghwa. What do you need?” Hongjoong’s tone shifts, becoming a little authoritative. 
“You better get in here. Mingi’s trying to get everyone to go streaking again.” 
“So?” Your pen is still in Hongjoong’s hand, heading to his lips as he takes another puff. “He’s always trying to do that. No one ever agrees.” 
“So, I guess he thought the best way to convince everyone was by going first. He’s currently doing naked laps around the beer pong table.” Seonghwa frowns. “It’s really throwing off my game.” 
Hongjoong sighs, an exceptionally weary sound. Rising to his feet, he brushes off his jeans. “I better go put a stop to that.” He glances down at you. “If anyone tries to kick you off here, just tell them I said you have my permission.” 
“And I need that?” 
The smirk returns. And then he has the audacity to wink. Before you can catch your breath, he’s climbing back through the window. 
Silence envelops you again. You lift your pen to your lips one more time before tucking it away. 
The minutes tick by.
When the clouds drifting across the stars start to look like tantalizing wisps of cotton candy, seemingly close enough that you could reach out and grab some, your stomach lets out a growl. Maybe you should go grab San away and tell him it’s time to bounce. You’ve done your time. There’s a perfectly golden waffle just waiting for you to drown with syrup at the diner. 
Besides, you can’t wait out here all night for cute boys who may or may not return. As much as you might want to. 
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“Again?” 
Two weeks have come and gone since San dragged you to ATZ. And now here he is, knocking on your bedroom door and giving you his best puppy dog eyes as he informs you that Wooyoung’s invited him to another party tonight. 
“Do you really need me to go? I thought you guys were hitting it off.” The two of them had been exchanging texts like crazy, and had gone on a date last weekend. You hadn’t seen your best friend this giddy in ages. 
“We are. He’s amazing,” San sighs, a faraway look in his eyes. “But I need you there so I have a reason to leave. I don’t want him to think I’m easy.” 
You try, you really, really do, but you can’t stop the laughter that bursts out of you. San has proudly called himself a slut on more than one occasion. In the three years you’ve been besties, you’ve never known him to deny himself some dick. 
“Stop laughing!” San puffs his bottom lip. “I’m serious. I really like him, and I want to take it slow.”
“That’s so sweet,” you coo, pinching his cheeks. He ducks his head with a tiny “aish,” but you know he’s not mad. “But why can’t you just make up a reason not to stay?”
The pout returns. “Because he’s hot and I’m weak. Please, help me out?” 
Sighing, you cross your arms. He’s not the only one without a backbone. “Maybe. What’s in it for me?” 
“I knew you’d ask that.” With a grin, he holds out a small ziploc baggie. “Here.” He tosses it your way. 
It’s a brownie. You grin. “Oh honey, you baked!” 
San returns your smile. “The batch came out a bit stronger than usual, so that’s why it’s just a little square. Half of that is probably enough for you. But if you go with me tonight, I’ll let you have the rest of the pan.” 
And just like that, you find yourself at another party packed full of people. This time, the beer pong table has been replaced with a giant ice luge, with coeds lining up to take their turns slurping jungle juice off the frozen display. You give the luge a wide berth, not wanting the sticky liquid to splash the boots you’re wearing. All the seats in the living room are occupied, and dancers are taking up all the open space left, so again you head upstairs.
Unlike the last time you were here, the roof does not provide you an escape, thanks to the chilly autumn rain that simply won’t let up tonight. It’s like the universe doesn’t want you pulling a Houdini this time. At least you have your brownie with you. You just need to find somewhere to enjoy it while you wait for San. 
The doors to all the rooms on the second floor are closed, so you keep moving, climbing up to the third floor. No one’s in the hallway up here, and there’s a room with the door wide open, so you peek your head in. 
Rows of books line shelves built into the two of the walls, The third has a fireplace, unlit, with photos of the fraternity brothers hanging above the mantle. There’s a rather nice overstuffed couch and a pair of high-backed chairs facing the fireplace. 
“These frat boys live like kings,” you murmur to yourself, creeping forward to examine the portraits. Your eye is immediately drawn to one in particular, a redheaded man with a bright smile, whose photo bears the title “President.” 
“I’m having the strangest sense of déjà vu,” a voice suddenly declares. 
Whirling, you find the same man watching you from the doorway. Tonight, he’s wearing a white shirt decorated with big red hearts, unbuttoned halfway down his chest, and a pair of tight jeans. And that sexy smirk of his. 
You frown, clutching your racing heart. “Do you enjoy sneaking up on people like that?”
“Only when they’re somewhere they shouldn’t be.” Hongjoong taps a sign on the door, which declares in extremely big, bold font: ATZ ONLY - KEEP OUT. “It’s clearly stated that this room is off limits. So what’s your excuse tonight?” Though his words are sharp, the gleam in his eye is playful.
Your lips twitch. “That sign probably would’ve worked better if the door had been closed.” You give him an appraising look. “Shouldn’t you be downstairs making sure your brothers keep their clothes on or whatever?” 
While he huffs in amusement, you wander over to one of the walls of books, running your fingers along their spines. They’re all labeled with a year. Grabbing last year’s, you let it fall open to a random page of photos. Wow, some of the brothers appear to be really allergic to shirts - 
Hongjoong snatches the album from your hands, closing it with a snap. “That’s private,” he informs you, slipping the book back into its slot. “And don’t try to change the subject. No one’s allowed in here but myself and my brothers. So come on.” He jerks his head towards the door. 
“Counteroffer,” you say, producing your brownie from your bag. 
Hongjoong pauses with his hand on the doorknob. “What is that?” 
“A brownie.” 
His eyes narrow a little. “Would you say there’s anything special about that brownie?” 
You nod. Hongjoong glances out into the hallway. Then he closes the door. 
“You’re awfully easy to bribe,” you inform him as the two of you settle on the couch, you in one corner, him taking the spot next to you. Carefully, you pull the brownie apart, handing him half. 
“Don’t tell anyone. Can’t have my reputation getting ruined.” He holds his half up. “Cheers.” 
“Cheers,” you giggle, tapping your half against his before taking a bite. 
Hongjoong devours his brownie in mere seconds. A bit of chocolate clings to his lower lip, his tongue flicking out to capture it, and you force yourself to focus on the remainder of your half, so you’re not just sitting there staring openly at his pretty mouth, as much as you’d like to. 
“So, is this your thing? Going to parties just to hide and get high?” 
“Ha, no. Not normally. But my roommate keeps insisting that I come with him.” 
“And where is your roommate now?”
You snort, licking crumbs from your fingertips. “Probably suctioned to Wooyoung’s face.” 
Hongjoong laughs. “Ah, you’re friends with San? He seems like a great guy, from what Woo’s told us.” 
“Woo talks about him?” You can’t wait to tell San. You can hear his bashful giggles now. 
“Yeah. He won’t shut up about him, actually. It’s nice, but it’s also annoying as fuck.” Hongjoong winces. “Sorry. I shouldn’t be so blunt.” 
“No, it’s fine, I get it. I love San, but I can only take so much puppy love before I get nauseous.” 
“Exactly.” Hongjoong grins. He sinks down further into the couch, legs spreading open as he gets more comfortable. 
The two of you are quiet for a moment, long enough for your brain to start asking questions. Is he planning on staying here with you? You’d kinda figured he’d eat the brownie and then go. Shouldn’t he be down at the party, if he’s the president of the frat? 
“You know, you don’t have to babysit me. I’m not gonna do anything in here but melt into the couch for a little while.” 
Hongjoong shrugs. His left hand plays in the rip above the knee in his jeans. “It’s not that I’m afraid you’re gonna do something. It’s just…” he trails off for a few seconds, lost in thought. “I’m not in a party mood tonight. You might not have been trying to hide, but I was.”  
“Oh. Shit. Do you - would you rather that I leave, so you can be alone?” 
He shakes his head. “Nah, you can stay. If you want to. I don’t mind your company.” 
“Oh,” you say again, in surprise. Something flutters in your chest when he looks at you. “Okay.” 
Hongjoong’s fingers return to the tear in his jeans, picking at the strings. “So… do I get to learn your name tonight?”
Oh, right. You’d never actually introduced yourself on the roof. 
He peers at you, clearly waiting for your answer, and the flutter gets stronger. What is it about his gaze that makes you want to tease him? 
“I don’t know,” you sigh, tilting your head as you look at him. “Have you earned it?” 
His eyebrow quirks slightly. “Didn’t know I had to.” 
You merely shrug, biting back a grin. He focuses on the wall opposite the couch, mulling over your words, while you sit beside him, primly arranging your skirt over your tights-covered thighs. The couch is ridiculously cushy and you’re already starting to relax into it. 
“If you won’t tell me, I’ll just go downstairs and find San,” he says after a moment. 
“That’s cheating!”
“Oh, does that upset the rule breaker?” He clutches his chest in mock horror, grinning when you laugh. “Excuse the fuck out of me.” 
“I’m not a rule breaker. I just…” you falter for an explanation.
“Don’t care for parties and prefer pot over people.” 
Hongjoong cracks up at the face you make in response to his too correct reading of you. 
“You’re doing a terrible job of earning my name, just for your information,” you sniff, but when he laughs harder, bumping his shoulder into yours, you cave, giggling. He doesn’t move away when the laughter tapers off.
You make a little small talk. The usual stuff - what’s your major, where are you from, etc. He’s a music production major and apparently spends all his time in the studio, on the opposite side of campus from where your art studio is located. No wonder you’ve never seen him around before. 
Eventually the room falls silent again. If it weren’t for the thumping coming through the floor, you could almost forget there are other people in the house. You let your eyes fall shut for a moment, ears straining to make out the music drifting from the first floor. It’s only the drums and bass that you can catch, something pulsating and rhythmic. Hypnotic, lulling you further into relaxation. 
That’s when you feel it. That telltale body buzz that starts in your feet and spreads all over. Your thoughts become a little floaty, each one drifting away before you can really grasp them, and you turn to Hongjoong. 
“I think I found the drugs,” you giggle. 
Hongjoong lets out a single “ha” from deep in his chest, and then he hums. You let your head fall back against the couch and close your eyes.
“Oh shit, there they are,” you hear Hongjoong say, with another laugh, and you start to giggle again, and when you look at him, he’s watching you, and you wonder what it would be like to kiss him right now, with his face so close to yours. His lips look very kissable, meant to be nibbled and sucked. You long to, biting your own lip as you fantasize about his taste.  
Hongjoong sighs. “Damn, I feel good. Thank you. You’re officially my favorite trespasser.”
“Is that a long list?” 
His grin widens. “Longer than you’d think.” His eyelids lower a little as he leans closer. The air feels like it’s heating up around you now. Your skin tingles from your high, and it only increases when Hongjoong’s fingers cup your chin. “Can I kiss you?”
“Why?” is what flies out of your mouth in surprise, even though you’re dying to feel his lips on yours.
“Because I like kissing pretty people when I’m high.” 
Heat pools in your belly, and you shift on the couch, reaching for him. As your fingers twist in his shirt, your mouths connect. It’s a slow, wet kiss, tongues warm against each other, rolling over and around. Messy, but neither of you care, both lost in the sensation. 
When his arms wrap around your back, you slip into his lap, straddling his thighs. His head tilts up to greedily chase your mouth, and you tug his bottom lip with your teeth, shivering at the way he groans. His fingers dig into your shoulder blades as he pulls you down on top of him, so there’s no distance between you, just clothing and heat between you.  
Hongjoong nudges your face with his, getting you to turn your head so he can nibble on your earlobe. His hands fondle your ass beneath your skirt, grabbing and pinching the ample flesh through your tights, while his mouth ripples down your cheek and neck, covering your skin in soft kisses, before finding your lips again. 
It’s been too long since you’ve made out with someone like this. The last few people you kissed with all treated it like an annoying chore, something perfunctory that had to be performed in order to get what they really wanted. Hongjoong holds you like you’re something to be slowly explored, something to be savored, not just used. 
“Feeling good?” He leans back for a second, brushing his hair out of his eyes as he peers at you. His face is flushed, lips darkened from your nipping, and the rather fucked out sight of him has you clutching at his shoulders, desperately pulling his mouth back onto yours.
“So good,” you moan when you come up for air, rolling your hips. He feels so amazing underneath you, hard cock bulging obscenely in his jeans, that you can’t help yourself, humping away mindlessly while you kiss, whining slightly when you can’t quite find the right angle to ease the aching in your clit. 
Hongjoong laughs into your mouth, fingers sliding up to grab your hips. “Slow it down, baby,” he whispers, pressing more kisses along your jawline. With his strong grip, he takes control, guiding you back and forth, slower, but more forcefully, his own hips moving to grind himself up into you. “‘M not going anywhere. Take your time.” 
Your whole body shudders at his words. With another pitiful whimper, you snake your arms around his neck, tangling your fingers into his hair as your mouth dives for his again. 
Take your time. If he insists. With his encouragement, you lose yourself in the languorous pace he’s set, soaking panties rubbing on the rough denim below, friction building, a wave that never crests, just rolls on and on. You know you could do this for hours, make out and dry hump like this, without coming. It takes you much longer to come when you’re stoned, but the orgasms are so intense that it’s always worth it. 
Your fingers brush over his neck and he shudders beneath you. Intrigued, you lower your mouth to his collarbones, picking a spot exposed by his open shirt, and gently bite down. He groans brokenly, hips jerking upwards, and you lick at the same spot a few times, lazy, slow strokes, before sucking, painting his skin with a love mark. 
“Fuck,” he hisses, bucking again, with renewed urgency. Giggling, you sign your work with a light nuzzle before he grabs your chin, frantically bringing your face to his for more kisses, wet and filthy and so sensual that you feel like you’re nearly going feral with desire. 
“Hongjoong,” you whine, needing more of him, greedy hands lacing into his hair. Your sense of touch is so heightened right now that the strands feel like silk wrapping around your fingertips. 
As you moan again, Hongjoong’s hand travels to your neck, fingers playing there, curling and uncurling. “When you say my name like that, you know what it makes me wanna do?” 
“Wha-what?” Your thighs are starting to get damp, covered in slickness from the sound of his husky voice. You grind down harder, gasping in pleasure when he meets your movements with a powerful thrust of his own.
“Sit you on my cock and fuck you stupid.” He bites his lip, looking down at your chest as it jiggles under your sweater. “Let you ride it. Could you do that for me? Ride it real good?”
“Fuck yes!” There’s no hesitation in your answer. It’s all you want right now, to feel him all over you and inside you. Yes, of course you’d be so good for him, because you know he’d be good to you. Even though you’ve only really just met him, you feel it in your soul. 
“I bet you would. Ride it like a fuckin’ champ. Make it bouncy.” His right hand squeezes your ass, making you squeal into his kiss. 
A dreamlike haze hangs over everything now. You stare open-mouthed while his left hand fondles your breast over your sweater. Then he tugs your top up and your bra down, far enough for the cool air to kiss your exposed skin. His deft fingers pinch your nipple sharply for a few painfully pleasurable seconds before his hot tongue replaces them, and your drug-and-lust-addled brain wonders dumbly for a moment who let out such a shameless mewl before you recognize that it was you.  
Time stretches in that surreal way that it does when you’re high, making every minute feel like an eternity. Hongjoong laves his tongue over your other nipple, sucking the pert bud into his mouth, and you keen, head lolling back while pleasure ripples through you. His tongue is magic. You bet he gives good head. You hope you find out. 
Unfortunately, though, while you’re wondering what his mouth would feel like on your cunt, time has not actually stopped, and there is still a party going on. Which you are rudely reminded of when it suddenly spills over into the room, popping the little bubble that you and Hongjoong have been hiding in.
“Don’t worry, no one’s ever in- oh, shit!” 
A loud curse draws your attention away from Hongjoong’s tongue and to the tall brother standing in the doorway, frozen like a deer. There’s a cute coed holding his hand, peeking around him to see what made him yell. 
“Yunho, what the fuck, man?” Hongjoong groans, a scowl twisting his kiss-swollen lips. “Get out!”
You’re moving sluggishly, brain lagging with arousal and what you’re recognizing is a lot of THC for such a small brownie, but Hongjoong seems to have more of his wits about him, as he carefully lets go of your sweater so you’re covered again. He doesn’t try to slide you from his lap, just places his hands on your waist to keep you steady. 
Tall guy’s sputtering now. “I-I’m sorry, the door wasn’t locked, and - “
“It’s fine, Yun, just go, all right?” Hongjoong glances at you. “You okay?”
If you were sober, you’d probably be horrifically embarrassed to be caught tits-out. Might even run for the door so you could go home and hide for the rest of the weekend or month or year. But between the brownie and the man currently checking in with you, you’re feeling too good right now to really give a shit what anyone else thinks. 
You nod at Hongjoong’s question, beaming happily. A crooked smile spreads across Hongjoong’s face, his thumbs etching tiny circles into your sides. 
“Hongjoong?” Yunho’s basically a statue at this point, completely immovable in the doorway. “I know we’re not supposed to let anyone else in here, but seeing as how you have someone else in here, uh… am I gonna get in trouble for this?”  
“If I say no, will you fuckin’ leave already?” Hongjoong glares at the other man, and it does not escape your attention how sexy he looks when he’s mad. 
“I don’t know. I mean, we’ll leave, but I don’t know if you’re just saying that to get me t-”
“Get out!” 
Your sudden shout snaps Yunho into action. He slams the door shut, leaving you alone with Hongjoong, who is gawking at you with his mouth hanging open. Oops. Maybe you shouldn’t have done that.
“Sorry,” you apologize, cringing. “I didn’t mean to shout.” 
“No, that was so hot,” Hongjoong declares, leaning forward to kiss you eagerly. 
“Yeah?” you pant against his lips in surprise.  
He nods, nose jostling yours, and kisses you again, and again, until you’re dizzy, needing oxygen, but you’re unwilling to tear yourself away from his mouth. All you want is to lose yourself in him again, crawl back into that heat from before. 
Just as you feel it starting to happen, he pulls away. 
“We should probably lock the door,” he says, but he doesn’t move. His eyes are studying your face carefully, you realize, looking for any signs of objection. For some reason, that just makes your answer even more affirmative. 
“Good idea,” you reply, slipping off his lap and crossing the room in three quick steps. You shoot him a glance over your shoulder as you twist the lock. Either the pot is slowing his reactions as much as it’s slown yours, or he doesn’t care that you catch him openly staring at your ass. He grips his cock through his jeans, hand flexing as he squeezes slightly. 
His gaze is too intense even from across the room. It makes you shy, has you lowering your head as you return to the couch. His fingers slide under your chin, tilt your face up to meet his ravenous lips as he guides you onto your back. 
Your boots hit the floor one after the other, followed by his sneakers. One of his arms props him up over you. His other hand grips your thigh, spreading your legs apart, allowing him to slot himself in between. He swallows your sigh when his fingers roam inwards, slipping against your core. 
“Damn, baby, did I do all this?” he asks, rubbing at the dampness seeping through the layers of your panties and tights. 
You pluck at the buttons on his shirt, palms skimming over the warm skin that’s revealed beneath. He hisses quietly when you brush over his stomach. Seems it’s not just his neck that’s sensitive. Good to know. 
“Yes,” you nod, squirming slightly when he drops his hand to cup you. His thumb applies a bit of pressure so achingly near your clit that you whine, almost as loudly as you’d yelled before. “Please tell me you’re gonna do something about it.” 
He smirks then, that maddeningly taunting smile of his. The one that tells you not to be fooled by his quiet demeanor. The one that tells you he’s trouble.  “As soon as you tell me your name.” 
His hand drags frustratingly slowly upwards, spreading your slickness as it goes, making you whimper. “Hongjoong!” 
“No, that’s my name.” His fingertips are crawling now, moving closer and closer to the waistband of your tights, one millimeter at a time. 
The anticipation is driving you insane. And it seems you’re not the only one enjoying it, judging by the way he’s rutting his bulge into your thigh.
“Don’t tease,” you complain, pouting. 
“But that’s my favorite part,” he shoots back, grinning madly. Fuck. He’s trouble for sure. 
His fingers trace shapes over your hips, back and forth, long lines that have you huffing in frustration. Then he curls them under the waistband, pulling them down, just the tiniest fraction of an inch, then another, tongue flicking out to wet his bottom lip as he looks at you, and then - 
He stops. 
You groan, head tossing back to bounce against the arm of the couch. 
“YN, my name is YN, fuck, I yield!” 
“That didn’t take long,” he gloats. “So desperate for me. I love it.” 
If you weren’t still high, you might be embarrassed. Instead, you’re brazen, whimpering in agreement. You want him, just like he wants you, why bother to hide it? 
He finally releases you from your misery by rolling down all that annoying clothing that separates you from him, tossing it onto the floor. A gentle scrape of his fingernails on your bare skin has you trembling, begging for more of his touch. He obliges, lowering his mouth to leave hot-breathed kisses on your thighs. 
“Y’know what else I like to do when I’m high?” he asks, watching you with hooded eyes. His hands haven’t stopped moving, are languidly pushing your skirt up to your waist. 
“What?”
“Eat pussy.” He licks his lips. “Wanna eat you, baby. Can I?” 
“Please,” you groan, reaching for your skirt, pulling it up as far as you can, baring yourself to him. He grins, fingers spreading you open, and you twitch as the little puffs of his delighted laughter swirl over your sensitive skin. 
Hongjoong flattens his tongue, dragging it up and down a few times. You keen, fingers digging into the wool of your skirt, clutching the material tightly, when he keeps moving up, circling your clit, before he undulates his tongue, making the tiny nub bounce. Then he switches back to licking stripes, pressing the taut muscle more firmly against you with each pass.
You feel like your entire body is pulsating in time with your clit. “Oh my god.” 
“You’re so wet,” he groans happily, lapping without restraint at your pussy, sloppy and loud. “Could fuckin’ drown down here.” 
His mouth. It’s sinful, how good he is with it, the way he kisses your folds and sucks on your clit. Uses it to say the filthiest things, keeping up a running commentary: 
Look at you, dripping all over the place. Such a mess, baby. Let’s see how much wetter you can get.
Could eat this pretty pussy for hours and never get my fill. Got me so greedy.
Mmmph, love the way you taste. Bet you’re even sweeter when you come.
You don’t catch every word, given the way he mumbles them into your cunt, but you hear enough to have you babbling in response, chanting his name and praising his skills over and over. 
When your words dissolve into moans, Hongjoong changes it up, adding his fingers to the mix. His mouth seals around your clit while he strokes inside you, warm walls spreading to allow his lithe digits to plunge in and out. Then he thrusts his tongue into your clenching hole, using his fingertips to roll your thrumming nub around, lightly squeezing as he fucks you with his mouth. 
“Hongjoong!” You’re losing your mind, your entire body vibrating with pleasure. “Holy shit, please!” Can’t even finish your sentence, your foggy brain too busy focusing on holding your head up so you can watch him. Drool runs from the corner of your mouth, lips slack as you pant wildly. 
He laughs, popping off your clit with a loud slurp. “Please what?” He nuzzles his face against your thigh, kissing it gently. “What do you need?”
“I - I need…” You break off with a sudden mewl as he presses insistently into that soft spot on your inner walls, like he’s trying to leave an impression of his fingertip. “Oh fuck, right there, don’t stop!” 
“Don’t worry, I got you,” he vows, catching your eye. His face is a mess, hair damp with sweat, a shiny layer of your arousal smeared all over his mouth and chin. His hips keep rolling into the couch beneath him, and his voice wobbles a little as he speaks, but his gaze is unwavering. “Just lie back and let me do my thing. I’ll get you there.” 
He drops his mouth to your cunt again, and keeps his word. 
Time expands again as the tension inside you snaps. Your orgasm pulsates through you, flowing like a wave through your tingling body, wiping away all coherent thought, even turning your vision white for a few long seconds. Hongjoong’s fingers continue to massage your g-spot while his tongue still flutters over your clit, and you slowly come back to yourself, inhaling deeply before sobbing his name. 
He lifts his head momentarily to observe the results of his hard work. “That’s it, baby. Let go,” he murmurs, tongue skimming down to lap at your release. Lost in ecstasy, you thread your hand through his hair, tugging his face closer to your cunt, and ride out your high on his tongue, hips bucking erratically. He voices his approval with a guttural moan. 
Like any other time you’re high, you come for several minutes, shaking and twitching, panting and moaning. When your pelvis finally ceases moving and your fingers release their grip on his hair, Hongjoong pulls away. He doesn’t sit up, just lays his cheek on your hip, dark eyes scanning your face. 
“I was right. You taste sweet when you cum.” 
Jesus. That mouth. You start to giggle, flustered by his statement, both embarrassed and pleased, and he joins you, head bouncing slightly on your shaking stomach. Suddenly you’re overwhelmed by the need to feel him on top of you, to let his weight press you down, anchor you to reality, so with frantic hands you guide him back up to your waiting mouth. 
His kisses are slower now, softer. He’s still hard beneath his jeans, grinding into you, but it’s not as desperate as it was when he was humping the couch. You slide your hands down his chest, down his stomach, down to where the buttons on this waistband lay.
Hongjoong ignores your little cry of protest when he suddenly draws away, sitting back on his heels and peering down, glimmering eyes merrily taking in the state of you.
“You’re gorgeous,” he tells you, and you believe him. “I’m glad you broke in here tonight.”
Despite yourself, you laugh. “I didn’t break - you know what? Not important.” You prop yourself up on your elbows, staring pointedly at his crotch. “Don’t you need help with that? I’m more than happy to return the favor.” 
He smirks. “The party’s not over yet. We’ll get there.” Your stomach somersaults at the promise laced into his voice. “But speaking of parties…”
Right. Holy shit, there’s still an entire frat partying right outside these walls. Hongjoong’s unbelievable tongue managed to make you forget that for a while. 
“I should probably go downstairs and check on things,” he finishes with a sigh, buttoning his shirt up halfway.
It’s strange, you’re still basking in the afterglow of your climax, and yet you can’t help but feel a pang of disappointment. 
It’s just like when you get really high and then eat an entire convenience store’s worth of snacks. Weed makes you insatiable. Hongjoong just gave you an earth-shattering orgasm and you’re already dying for more. 
Maybe you should thank him and let the moment be what it was. 
“Right. Of course.” Begrudgingly, you let him go of him. He rises slowly, stretching and rolling his neck. “Um. That was great. I guess… I guess I’ll see you around?” 
Hongjoong laughs, gesturing for you to stand. “Come on, you’re coming with me.” 
Your heart pounds a quick beat at his smile. 
“Why?” you inquire. “Worried I’ll learn all of Alpha Tau’s deepest darkest secrets if I stay here alone? Think you need to keep an eye on me?” 
“Nah,” he replies, grabbing your hand. You let him tug you to your feet, let him pull hard enough that you crash into him, your palms landing on his chest while he slings his arm around your back to catch you. “I just want to keep my hands on you.”
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© 2023 by minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost. I do not allow translations of my work.
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taegimood · 29 days
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kitty or shark hybrid tyun thoughts pleasepleasepleaseplease
i already had kitty tyun in the works so you read my mind but omg SHARK TYUN ???!!!! i know we literally just talked abt this on discord but i never thought abt how it would actually work… i’ve never thought about marine hybrids before 🤔 would he need water ??? reverse sandy cheeks LMFAO but no the predatory aspect mmmmm we should talk abt this later
edit this is longer and kind of turned into more of actual writing (??) than the soobin one ugh sorry i’m so inconsistent i’m ekwkndndkfk almost don’t even wanna post it BUT ANYWAY ,,,,,
next on my agenda: cat hybrid!taehyun !!
cat hybrid!taehyun with perky dark brown ears that nearly blend in with his hair, and a sleek tail to match. he’d be reserved when you first bring him home, but not shy or nervous like soobin; taehyun would be cool, collected, on his guard but in a way that lets you know he still sees himself as one in control.
at first it would seem like he really couldn’t care less about your presence in the apartment; quickly getting comfortable enough to make it his own, but apparently you weren’t included in that sentiment, judging from the way he’d just side-eye you before carrying on with whatever he was doing as his only form of acknowledgement every time you attempt an interaction 🫠
it makes you nervous; was this the right decision? will we ever form a bond? little do you know… muehuehue
you knew that cat hybrids were notoriously hit or miss in terms of how affectionate or independent they’d turn out to be, but i mean come on — taehyun acts as though he doesn’t even need you at all !!
imagine the first time you try to pet his ears, him flattening them and immediately swatting your hand away to shrink back with a scowl; the way your stomach would drop as you quickly start to apologize 😭 but he’s already stalking away into the next room like a grumpy grouch >:(
it’s not that taehyun hates you or anything, it’s just that he doesn’t like his personal space invaded — or at least, that’s what he thinks at first, but more on that later 👀
him hearing you crying in your room one night cuz you’re just so frustrated and sad :(( wanting to build a happy comfortable life for him but he’s not even letting you try and you don’t know what you’re doing wrong 🥺 that’s the first time he’d feel a little twinge in his chest, an unfamiliar emotion that he can’t quite place as he finds himself wanting to… comfort you? hmm.. he decides that he doesn’t like this strange new feeling and continues on to his room instead.
but the next day you’d be shocked when you’re on the couch and he actually comes and…. sits.. in the same.. room.. as you ???? someone call oprah ✋🏼
he’d silently situate himself in the armchair away from the couch, opening up his book an educated mf and starting to read without a single word as you sit there gaping at him like 👁️👄👁️ not having any clue that this is his way of offering a small bridge for the gap you’re even a little suspicious tbh LOL but you get so excited regardless and even though you try to hide it, his sharp senses are quick to notice the change in your demeanor.
also you keep glancing over at him like every 10 seconds so that’s kind of a giveaway in itself
after that you’d begin to notice little things that he’d start to do that make you realize you need to let him be the one to decide when to come to you, when you’re allowed to touch him, etc — and honestly you’re just grateful to be making progress.
you’d be on the phone with a friend one day when they start asking about your new hybrid, taehyun’s ears perking up from the kitchen; (you glance over to see his head poking out and his boba eyes sparkling with interest before he catches you looking and instantly scowls, feigning indifference as he disappears again 😭😭 your heart clenching at the cuteness..)
him listening intently as you talk about him, surprised as you even defend him when your friend makes a comment about the cat hybrid stereotypes — “he’s not ‘hellish’ in the slightest. he’s been very good. he just likes his space, that’s all.”
but his favorite part of all would be when they ask you about his breed, what he looks like, etc; his chest swelling with pride as he hears you talk about how handsome he is, how strong and lithe he seems to be, and he finds a purr escaping from his throat at the praise as you boast about him.
after that, even more progress seems to be made; like him randomly coming up to you one day with an extra bit of his food in hand as he places it in front of you and says, “i brought this for you.” and walking away again before you can respond 💀
with how put-together he always seems, you’re finally starting to see how cat-like he truly is the more he opens up to you ❤️‍🩹
he starts speaking to you more often too, his voice a pleasant surprise to you; smooth and even-toned, inducing a bit of a blush from you whenever there’s a slight rasp or purr caught at the end of a phrase.
he perplexes you at first with how blunt or monotoned he can be, but you learn to read him better as time goes on, learn to understand his subtle undertones, and each flick of his ears or swish of his tail.
you’ve also learned that he can be won over with certain treats and presents… which ends up leading to the mess you’ve found yourself in now.
when you decided to buy a bunch of catnip, thinking it would be nice to bake him some desserts with it every now and then, you didn’t think you’d have to go out of your way to hide the stuff. since you brought him home taehyun has never acted out much aside from the occasional swipe of something off the edge of the counter when he’s bored; but he never scratches up your furniture or makes a mess of the apartment, so imagine your shock when you come home from a late shift one night to find your kitchen absolutely ransacked.
drawers and cabinets thrown open and their contents scattered everywhere, kitchen towels shredded to bits, and for a minute you’re terrified that someone broke in or something.. until you realize what you’re looking at.
catnip is strewn EVERYWHERE.
the tub of it fallen open on the floor has you gaping as your eyes follow the trail of it, from the cabinet taehyun must have smelled it from, to where it then spilled across the counter, before being knocked to the floor and.. rolled in??
with a start you suddenly realize that it’s too quiet.
taehyun is never one to come and greet you at the door, but this time, something feels.. different.
which is why you nearly jump out of your skin when you turn to go and look for him, ready to call out his name, only to find him standing in the entrance of the kitchen already watching you.
he’s so quiet that you didn’t even hear him approach and you’re convinced that in another life he would’ve made a great vampire or something.. taehyun salvatore has a nice ring to it iykyk
“holy shit, kitty, you scared me! why are you lurking like that? what the hell happened in.. here...”
your voice trailing off as you actually take in the sight of him and….
taehyun’s chest rising and falling at a quicker rate than usual, normally neat hair all tousled out of place, tail swishing sharply back and forth behind him, ears twitching — you meet his eyes and swallow hard. he’s never looked at you like this before.
his pupils are blown wide and taking in every inch of you, roaming over your body before locking onto your gaze, as if he’s looking straight into you, hyper-focused; silent and still and.…
predatory.
there’s a crackling tension in the air as something flickers in his eyes.
before you can process the speed that he moves forward with you’re being pushed against the kitchen counter with his body flush against yours, radiating heat as he rolls his hips, rubbing his face into your neck as a deep, growl-like purr reverberates in your ear.
you gasp, thighs pressing together instinctively, his tongue licking a rough stripe up to your jaw as he growls, “whose scent is this?”, and you barely even have time to remember the new coworker that he must be smelling let alone the time to answer him before he’s mouthing at your neck, muttering, “doesn’t matter.. i’ll just have to scent you myself.”
his tail curls around your waist and you inhale at the slight prickle of his sharp canines as he smirks against your throat;
“have to let him know that you’re mine.”
you don’t know how you got here, bent over the kitchen table as your previously aloof hybrid pounds you from behind, licking and biting at your shoulder and neck as he purrs roughly in your ear, your pussy clenching hard around his thick cock as he tugs your hair to bring your head up into a scorching kiss; whatever insane energy high that catnip gave him was all being released onto you right now, and you really can’t complain.. nor can you even remember whatever guilt you may have felt since at this point he’s fucked it right out of you.
he’d be telling you how your scent belongs to him, how no one else can have you like this; this sudden possessiveness coming out of seemingly no where, baffling you with the whiplash of taehyun’s deeper feelings coming out.
(feelings that he honestly didn’t even realize he had himself until that catnip got him good)
he’d so be the type to act completely nonchalant about it all the next day, to the point where you’d just about convince yourself that you went crazy and dreamed it all up until he’d do something to show you that no, you definitely did not.
standing at the sink washing dishes after lunch, lost in your swirling thoughts, when he’d come up behind you to place his own dish in the sink — chest ghosting against your back as he leans in just close enough for you to feel his smirk against one of the many love bites littered across your neck. quickly turning to face him but he’s already walking away, casually and without another glance in your direction;
later you’d be tidying up the apartment when he’d walk by you and his tail would curl sneakily around your waist, trailing over your ass as he passes by..
but it’s the last straw for you when you’re sitting on a conference call and taehyun slinks into the room, eyeing your computer, and you can already see the wheels turning in his head at the sound of your male coworkers going over their part of an example presentation.
your eyes widen marginally as his narrow — lip curling as he quickly deduces that one of them must be yesterday’s icky scent culprit — and you give him a stern warning look that he only ignores with a sly smile as he approaches where you’re sitting, your breath catching in your throat as he suddenly gets on his knees between your legs, just out of sight of the camera.
you’re about to mute your mic and ask him what the hell he’s doing when you hear your name being called from the screen, quickly averting your attention to answer your coworker’s question, when you feel the tip of taehyun’s claw begin to trace up your inner thigh.. ohhh boy you’re done for.
you’d be panicking as he’d tease his way under your skirt, flipping it up to reveal your panties that he’d so easily push aside, your voice coming out in a squeak when you try to continue talking as he nuzzles his face into your cunt.
trying to deter him by pushing his head away, but that only spurs him on more at the feeling of your fingers brushing past his mischievously twitching ears; your coworkers asking you if everything’s alright as the sudden warmth of taehyun’s tongue against your pussy sends a rush of electricity through you in the form of a choked-out moan that you can only disguise as a cough.
having to sit through the rest of your meeting as your naughty hybrid meticulously eats you out, his shameless rumbling purrs sending vibrations through your core while he laves at your juices, smug eyes glittering up at you the entire time as you try your absolute hardest not to squirm and moan.
it’s so filthy, so obscene, and he’s got you so so close to the point where you have no choice but to feign sickness and quickly hang up the call with reddened cheeks and labored breaths.
but taehyun pulls away immediately and you give a sharp whine before you can stop yourself.
you can see the satisfaction in his eyes as he poorly feigns indifference poorly on purpose ofc and states, “i’m bored,” with a move to stand up — but you’ve had enough of his teasing.
“nuh uh,” you breathe, your hand in his hair pulling him back in with a surprised little trill as your need to cum overpowers your conscience.
“finish what you started.”
and he’s more than happy to oblige as that same flicker from last night returns to his eyes, yanking you towards his waiting mouth as he ravishes your pussy with even more vigor than before.
“taehyun, y-you’ve been such a… bad.. k-kitty…”
and he eats it right up, the both of you knowing who really seems to be in control here despite your scolding words as you lose yourself on his tongue.
coming apart easily not once but twice before he finally sits back on his heels, licking the wetness from his lips and observing your spent form in satisfaction;
from then on it’s decided that taehyun does like his new owner after all, quick to jealousy but even quicker to remind you that you’re his; who’s the real owner here, to be honest? 🤔
and he even comes to realize that - you know what? - curling up with you for cuddles and head scratches really isn’t so bad after all. he could definitely get used to this ❤️‍🩹
my dom!taehyun agenda knows no bounds i couldn’t stop myself womp
also this feels to me like it had a much different vibe from the soobin one as in like a lot less detailed even tho it’s longer…? idk but later i wanna post more than just one thing for each member anyway so
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Blood Ties Chapter 23
Series Masterlist
Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore; a tad bit of angst; smidge of illness; all the pregnancy woes in the world; some suggestive dialogue A/N: There's some serious fluff in this. I tried so hard to keep Daryl in character while having him offer all he could to a person doing something precious for him. I hope I succeeded. The explanation of midnight blue is a little bit of self indulgence. It's my own favorite color and the reason why. I know I skipped the nursing home scene but I took the liberty of adding into the timeline somewhere as a mention.
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The events of the day before had ended in the most amusing way, with you nearly inviting Carol in before getting dressed.
“She knows what tits and a vagina look like, Daryl.”
“She don’t know what my dick looks like, Y/N!”
“Touche, sir.”
All ended well and Carol saw no genitalia that fine day.
You had officially worn one another out. After the Tylenol and Carol’s snickers and knowing smiles, you and Daryl fell onto the pillows and slept until the next morning. The fever remained, albeit burning less and less hot each time the old man would look him over. His lungs were sounding better. Hershel removed the IV when the archer proved he could keep up with hydrating and promised to take it easy. Of course, he would. He had you as his warden. 
The next evening, after a bowl of hearty stew with the venison you had brought back,—two bowls for Daryl—you laid in bed. He wasn’t complaining, for once, and actually seemed to be close to falling asleep. It had been a relief to watch him eat well, even if he did try to share the second bowl. You were feeling a little nauseated, sharing that knowledge honestly when you turned down his offering. Your condition had definitely improved, the severity of the occurrences much less concerning. Things were actually okay. 
“Daryl?” You licked your suddenly dry lips but continued drawing patterns on his bare chest from your spot against his side with his arm wrapped around you. He hummed, his usual reply, eyes remaining closed while his thumb swept back and forth over your ribs. When you didn’t answer right away, he pulled you a little closer. It was unclear if it was intentional or not.
“What?” He cleared his throat, his voice still gravelly. 
“Can we—I’d like to know more about you.” Your timid request must have snagged his attention because he was shifting your bodies to lie face to face, one hand below his cheek and the other rubbing small circles just over where the baby had finally stopped tap dancing. He was giving you that look, the squinted eyes that scrutinized someone for any indication of dishonesty or hidden agenda. He should know you better than that by now, but you remained quiet.
“Whaddaya wanna know?” He finally queried, his hand going still but remaining where it was.
“Anything. Everything.” You shrugged your available shoulder. “If we’re gonna do this—be an us—then we need to know one another, don’t you think?” He started tapping a finger against your abdomen.
“S’your favorite color?”
You huffed a laugh through your nose, scrunching it with a smile. “Midnight blue. What’s yours?” He pulled a face, curiosity shining through.
“Why midnight?” He asked with a sniff, shuffling around a bit on the pillow.
“Because even though I know it isn’t, I like to think that’s the color of the night sky. Not black, but dark blue and full stars. Black is nothing, it’s lonely, but to think of it as blue. It’s a little more comforting.” The archer gave you a thoughtful look, the corner of his mouth ticking upward so minutely that anyone else would have missed it. Not you. “Now, what’s yours?”
He mimicked your earlier shrug. “Dunno. Don’t really got one, I guess.” Your silence beckoned him to explain. After moving his hand from below his cheek to chew on the side of his thumb, he eventually elaborated. “Grew up learnin’ to ‘preciate all’a ‘em. House was—it was always dark, ‘specially after mama died. When my old man—I spent a lot’a time outside. Noticed things. Blue sky’d turn a bit purple before it’d snow, even if it was just a lil’. Grass—it’d be green but have those brown pieces where I’d walk all’a the time. Creek looked muddy unless ya stood in it. Then ya’d see the bottom an’ how the water’d catch the light. Sometimes it’d be blue, sometimes kinda green. Just depended on the day.” His gaze had dropped away from you at some point, focused on the miniscule area of bed sheets between your bodies.
You were glad for it because your eyes had started to fill and shine. You were granted the opportunity to blink back the tears before he looked up. Daryl was so much more than anyone had given him credit for, than anyone had been willing to learn. Carol had told you a story about an exchange with Andrea, when she had taken a jab at what she thought was his limited vocabulary.
“Get a dictionary. Look it up. Observant.”
“D’ya like dogs or cats?” He asked so suddenly that you nearly flinched, realizing that you had just been staring at some point past his head for an undetermined amount of time. There was no way he hadn’t noticed.
“I like both, but I’m a dog person.” You frowned. Having a dog would probably be something your child would never get to experience. “You?”
“Dogs. Cats ain’t trustworthy.” It was such an amusing thing to say with such a straight face. You couldn’t help but laugh.
“Wait, I need to hear this.” You caught him staring at your lips, maybe watching you laugh or maybe he wanted to kiss you. Both? You pretended not to notice. 
“Dogs’re smart but cats’re calculated. Make ya think they’re all innocent when they ain’t. Always up to somethin’.”
“What I’m hearing is that you’re afraid of cats.” You smirked, absently reaching to run your fingers through his hair. Daryl made a disgruntled sound and shook his head to stave off your attempts.
“Ain’t afraid’a ‘em. Just don’t trust ‘em.”
“Right.” You nodded, face falling into feigned seriousness before it became real, your next question burning inside your chest, just below the fear you’d need to surpass to ask. He was likely to shut down the session, maybe even close off completely. You could always hope he’d begun to trust you enough to open up, even if only a little, but the prospect suddenly seemed so far away. “Daryl.”
“Ask.” He was looking right into your eyes with a hint of determination you’d seen before when the circumstances were different, dire even. Was that how he saw this? A dire situation that could result in you being gone in some way?
“Who—what happened?” You let a single fingertip press gently against the deepest scar on his chest, your eyes lingering on it for but a moment before you contradicted his intensity with tenderness. Not pity, but a gentle curiosity. A request to allow you to understand.
“My dad—he was never a good man.” He swallowed hard. “Got worse after mama died. She drank. Fell asleep with a smoke, burned up in our house.” His fingers were plucking at the small space between you, a fine tremor in his hand. He pulled it out of your reach when you reached for it. “Didn’t know what to do with us, I guess. Me an’ Merle—my brother.” The brother that Rick had left behind in Atlanta, the brother who was likely dead. Yet another relative your baby would never know. “Merle tried to—he’d take the beatin’ when he could, did his best. Booked it outta there when he couldn't take it no more. Joined the army.” His eyes were wet, but he sniffed and cleared his throat. “Wasn't nothin’ standin’ between me an’ the old man then—between me an’ the belt. The cigarettes.” He fell silent, clearly finished with talking about his parents.
“Tell me about Merle?” You ventured, shot down with a shake of his head against the pillow.
“Ain’t your turn.” He sniffed again. “Your mama—tell me ‘bout your mama.” It wasn’t exactly a question, more of a soft demand; an it’s only fair. You didn’t mind. You’d accepted her abandonment long ago. You had been content with the amazing father with whom you were gifted.
“She booked it. We didn’t have a lot of money, and she never really wanted me in the first place. Tucked tail and ran the first chance she got.” You shrugged, unbothered beyond the twinge of guilt you felt for being so okay with the hand you had been dealt while Daryl struggled to even think about his past. “I didn’t even miss her. I mean, it sucked at first. I always felt bad, watching daddy struggle. So, I learned to help and that was that.”
He was so obviously jealous, yet another emotion that he didn't know how to process. You saw the anger flare before he doused it, returning to a solemn state of silence. He was awaiting your question, wherein you found a dilemma. Did you push through the conversation about his family? Or did you switch to something else, give him a break? 
“Thank you for trusting me.” When you reached for him then, he didn’t pull away. His mask cracked and a few pieces fell away, but he held the rest steady. “That’s enough for now, okay? If you have more questions, I’ll answer them. Gladly. But you’ve shared enough, okay?” When he studied you, you didn’t let him proceed with his usual scrutiny. “It’s fine, Daryl. We can talk more when—if—you ever want to again. You don’t need to tell me anything else.”
He accepted the out with a long exhale and a nod, his gaze falling away. You embraced the silence and its discomfort, just touching him while he was in a place to allow it. You stroked his cheek, the stubble thicker than usual with his confinement to the bed. You smoothed his hair, scratched gently over his scalp. Finally, you scooted closer and pulled him toward you to meet in the middle. Tangling your legs around his, you guided his head to rest under your chin. He let you without complaint or denial, a testament to how he had silently endured when he needed comforting.
The two of you laid there, his breaths evening out to the point where you thought he had fallen asleep. Then, breaking the silence, he cleared his throat. “Why me?” You pulled back just enough to angle your head and look at him.
“Why you what?”
“Why ya settlin’ with me? We can raise a kid together without you givin’ up a chance with someone better.” He took a deep breath, keeping his head down. “I won’t hold ya to it if ya change your mind later—if someone shows—”
“There’s no one better.” You nearly snapped at him, your tone harsher than you’d ever meant for it to be. He flinched and you instantly hated yourself for it. You’d seen someone’s quick movements earn that reaction before, but words hardly affected Daryl physically, not like that. “Daryl.” You silently pleaded with him to look at you, but were left disappointed. “There’s no one better.” You repeated, so softly that it was almost a whisper, your breath disturbing his hair. “I want to raise this baby with you. I want to be with you. I love you. That’s not gonna change.”
He simply hummed, the sound reverberating against your throat. You wanted to throttle him, but none of his self-deprecation was his fault. You hated people you didn’t even know for it. “Don’t deserve all this.” Your brow furrowed deeply at his words. “Feel like m’gettin’ somethin’ meant for someone else. Like m’takin’—” The words died on the tip of his tongue. What could you even say to that? You could tell him he deserved the world—the fucking universe—but he’d never believe it. You’d just have to show him. It would take time and patience that would likely be tested over and over, but he was worth it.
“You’ll see.” You settled back against him, let silence fall between you again. After a while, he actually did fall asleep, the tension you had noticed in him finally melting away into a restful state he so desperately needed in order to continue getting well. A kiss was pressed into his hair. You never fell asleep yourself, simply lying there with him. Your heart ached yet it was full. With your fingers traveling up and down his back in gentle motions you hoped were comforting even within his dreams, you told him again. “You’ll see.”
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Daryl was coughing strenuously by the time you reached the truck, his hand pressed hard against his chest. The cold air, the rush of grabbing up all the bags, the running from the herd—it was taking its toll on his still healing body.
“Keys.” You demanded. “I’m driving.”  You could see it on his face that he was going to argue, but he doubled over in another fit of coughs and deep, wheezing gasps. Digging in his pocket through the ordeal, he tossed you the keyring. The bags you two were responsible for were tossed into the back next to the bike. It took the archer two attempts to pull himself onto the bench seat, which required the effort of both your bodies to move back in order to accommodate your 30 week bump. Just as your door closed, a discolored hand slapped against the window, startling you into a shout.
The van was already moving when you pressed the gas to peel out behind it, mowing down at least three walkers. Dark blood splattered onto the windshield, smearing but mostly washing away when you used the partially frozen fluid and wipers. Daryl’s forehead was against the dashboard as he fought to catch his breath in the chilled air. You were fumbling for the temperature controls when he smacked your hand away.
“Just—just drive. I got it.” He rasped, the warming air filling the cab a moment later. His back thudded against the seat, shaking it slightly, his head falling back against the headrest with his eyes closed. He was finally sucking in gulps of air into irritated, partially healed lungs. When you reached a point that was safe enough to pull off, you would make sure the group remembered his state of health and didn’t travel for too long before finding anything suitable and safe enough for a stay of at least a few days. “Quit your worryin’, woman. M’good.”
“Just don’t, Daryl.” You argued quietly, desperate to keep the peace between the pair of you that you’d managed to create. “Let me worry. If you don’t fight me on it, I’ll be less likely to do something stupid.” You glanced over, finding his head rolled toward you, his jaw set but he relented with a jerk of his head.
“Fine. Just have ‘em find whatever. S’long as it keeps your ass right here beside me.” 
You smiled and silently celebrated your victory, even as he noticed and grumbled beside you. When you placed your hand, palm up, on the seat between you, only a heartbeat passed before you felt him squeezing your fingers.
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Roughly eight weeks left, though Hershel said you could safely deliver if you made it at least four more weeks. You were actually becoming slightly miserable. The nausea would come and go, though you actually vomited less and less. Your ankles were missing completely under the puffy skin. Your belly felt so heavy that even just standing was becoming a chore. Lori was sympathetic, constantly giving you advice. Not only you but Daryl as well. You had seen her whispering to him, watched the way he would go completely still, not looking at her but listening intently. Rick could give him all the advice in the world but Lori’s input was crucial. She knew exactly what you needed.
The archer argued with you less and less, though you could see the restraint it took for him to bite his tongue, sometimes literally. He let you hunt with him because you were restless. Lori had said it was because of the urge to start nesting, which you had found amusing, but Daryl already knew about it because of the damn books he continued to snatch up on runs. Why it frustrated you that he was willing to go that extra mile was beyond your comprehension. Maybe because he knew more about what was going on with your body than you did? You should have been grateful, but all you wanted to do was kick him in the shins.
“Can ya just—nevermind.” He grunted from behind you while the two of you tracked some turkeys. You knew they’d be in the trees for the cold weather so you kept your eyes upward, irritating the hunter when you would nearly trip or run into something. Still, he kept his cool, which was admirable for your hot-headed partner. Daryl didn’t like the term boyfriend, you’d discovered during a brief conversation where you’d found your tongue looser than normal and spilling out questions you’d otherwise never ask. The two of you had settled on being partners, though you didn’t feel it was enough to describe your relationship. He had simply shrugged.
You couldn’t hunt with a gun. He’d all but forbade it. Too loud, would draw walkers. So he found you a bow. Not a crossbow but a traditional one. It didn’t take much practice. You only needed to become familiar with the tension of the string, how far to pull for the trajectory and speed needed. Aiming came naturally.
“Shut up, Daryl. I’m fine.” You snapped, instantly muttering an apology. It was but wasn’t his fault you felt so crappy. It took two to make the baby whose little foot or hand or whatever was always pressing into your ribs. You were just as responsible and tried to remember that even when it was you and not him that felt like absolute shit most of the time. As if the world was hellbent on fucking with you, the toe of your boot found its way beneath an exposed root and you nearly faceplanted. If not for Daryl’s constant observance, you surely would have.
He snagged your bicep, dropping his crossbow to reach across your chest and grip your other shoulder. All you needed was a dislocated shoulder when you were already so beyond miserable. He made sure you stayed on your feet, nearly stumbling himself, but saying nothing when you found his irritated but concerned gaze. The weight of it instantly brought on the sniffling you knew was about to lead to a breakdown.
Over the course of only three weeks, the archer had memorized the signs and adapted, learning how to soothe you even at the expense of his own comfort. He immediately pulled you into his arms as close as he could with your ever-growing belly between you, shushing you and rubbing your back. 
“S’alright. I won’t letcha fall.”
Noble as his intentions were, that only seemed to stir up even more guilt. “I don’t know why I can’t just listen when you tell me I should stay behind! Why do you let me just do whatever I want even when you know it’s the wrong choice?!” You rubbed your wet face against his button up, leaving a dark spot and not for the first time.
“Cause you’re hard-headed an’ feelin’ like crap. Only make ya feel worse for me to argue with ya.”
And just like that, the switch flipped. “I’m not hard-headed, Daryl! I’m fucking capable and everyone wants to treat me like I’m gonna break!” You pushed him away roughly and stomped forward, sniffling harder than necessary. You heard a sigh from behind you, the sound of him picking up his crossbow and before following at a distance.
When you shot down the turkey, even beyond the pride you felt carrying it back, something told you that he saw it first but didn’t even raise his weapon.
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Carol had heated some water for you so you could wipe down, feeling like your skin was crawling after being in the woods all day. It was a foreign feeling for the leaves and cool, fresh air to feel like it stuck to your flesh and needed to be scrubbed away. You were a mess. Your body hurt and you constantly needed to pee. You were irritable. You’d want Daryl to fuck you one minute and then shove him away the moment he touched the slick apex of your thighs. You were torturing the poor man who didn’t have a clue how to provide the type of comfort you needed when he couldn’t even process how to overcome his own lack of it growing up.
You didn’t hear him enter the room as you bowed over the small sink in the dusty bathroom, your skin still damp beneath your long sleeved shirt and flannel sleep pants. You had washed your hair to the best of your ability, the wet strands forming a curtain around your face that blocked your view of the door. You didn’t startle when you felt the heat of his body behind you. It was familiar at that point in a way you couldn’t explain.
“I’m so sorry, Daryl.” You whispered, the syllables of his name coming out as a soft whimper. His hands settled on your hips, fingers flexing nervously.
“S’okay.” He stepped closer and you fully expected to feel his erection press against your ass, but that wasn’t the case. There was only the firm safety of his body, your human security blanket. “Wanna—can I try somethin’?” His voice shook beside your ear but his hands remained steady, digits still squeezing and releasing. Not trusting your voice, you nodded, his exhale warm against your neck.
You weren’t entirely sure what you were expecting but it certainly wasn’t his warm palms sliding beneath your belly and lifting with more gentleness than you were aware a human being could possess. The absence of the weight pulling down was an instant relief, your muscles turning to jello. You leaned back against him and he kept you upright, silently offering you comfort and succor that your body didn’t even know it needed.
“Fuck.” You breathed, eyes fluttering closed and head laying back against his shoulder. The tears came when his lips pressed against your temple, wordlessly expressing his gratitude for what you were enduring. “Thank you.” Your own appreciation trembled over your lips, whether toward the man at your back or a god you weren’t sure you believed in for putting him there.
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bakugoushotwife · 11 months
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kinktober day eighteen: cockwarming kink
>>> idk why shiggy and cockwarming are like peanut butter and jelly to me...like i only have cravings for him when i'm deep in the caverns of my mental illness but...this is yummy? and i don't think it counts as cockwarming but shut up!!!
>>> starring: tomura shigaraki x curvy!f!reader >>> cw: cockwarming, established relationship, degradation, exhibitionism, fingering (fem receiving), p n v, creampie, implied multiple rounds. >>> wc: 3.1k >>> event masterlist
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it was league tradition at this point. not even when the members were scattered to the winds to gather intel and work official villain business did the group miss weekly movie night. some members may or may not be there some weeks, sometimes you were all together, coupled off into platonic and romantic pairings to view whatever your leader picked out. whenever you were there, he let you pick, but it’s been quite some time since you’ve been back home. shigaraki regrets sending you so far out of reach. this assignment had taken you much longer than he would have liked, way longer. correspondence had grown slower, each message shorter than the last. you were tailing hawks to make sure he was trustworthy and it seems it was giving you a great deal of trouble. 
or maybe hawks was loyal to the heroes like shigaraki suspected and had gotten to you with his agenda, turning you into a double agent. well, no, that couldn’t be it. if that were so, you would do a better job of acting normal to keep him off your case. did you need help? no, again, he knows you would just tell him that too, so what was going on with you? were you mad at him? had he done something before you left? 
he thinks back a couple of months—the unbearable length of time you’ve been gone—trying to think of any reason you could be short with him. you didn’t have any big fights, he didn’t forget any anniversaries or special occasions, and he went easier on toga like you asked him to. the only possible thing he can think of is the fact that it was saturday, aka movie night, when you left— and he fell asleep watching the movie you picked—meaning he didn’t get to spend your last night with you or give you any goodbye-and-good-luck dick. he sighs aloud at the realization. you were absolutely petty enough to hold that against him, but he hoped you wouldn’t prolong your mission just to prove a point. 
this is the first time since the league started this little routine that he’s wanted to call it off. the rest of the league missed you too, if not because you were their friend, it was because tomura had grown so intolerable and irritable in your absence that they were begging nightly for your return. when saturday rolled around, and you still weren’t back, they watched their fearless leader sulk around like a kicked puppy all day. each member dreaded the nighttime. shigaraki was prone to throwing tantrums when he saw any of the league members get too friendly with one another in your absence, so it looks like they’ll all have to sit spread out for movie night. 
was he to be held accountable for the things he said and did while busy wallowing in his grief? some may say yes, but he was a strong believer in live and let live—you were certainly his better half. but you’ve been away for close to three months, and your effects are wearing off. he was incredibly snappy as he set the theater room up, the shitty little projector dabi stole was clearly running on its last legs. he was in no mood to pick out a goofy movie, not whenever he was wondering if you were even coming back at this point. he barked at twice to find something to watch—and the man was heavily influenced by toga’s opinions, so suicide squad seemed to be the answer. what a trash pick, he thinks. it’s why he’s in charge, and why only your opinions can influence his own. you would never have allowed suicide squad. 
that’s not the only reason tomura misses you, of course. he misses working on your own missions together, decorating the hideout to make it feel more like a home, the way you’d sit with him as he plays video games in his room, or how you two would cuddle as you’re falling asleep with his glove-clad hands all over you, and of course, your drooling pussy sucking him in over and over again. it’s been nearly three months since he’s gotten to see your face, inhale your familiar scent, or get anywhere close to cumming. he can’t even use his own hand anymore—you’ve spoiled him. he’s always been a shitty sleeper, too, but your body in his grasp was the magical cure—so of course he’s been getting next to no rest without you. he’ll never send you on a mission again. 
when he hears several bustling voices and a relieved “thank whoever put us on this flaming pile of shit” from dabi, he knows you’re home. mr. compress and kurogiri escort you into the movie room, where he waits for you. tomura nearly shouts, either at you for being gone so long or in relief that you’re finally home, he’s not sure. the corner of his mouth slides up in a reserved grin, but everyone can see the light return to his eyes. god forbid a world where you didn’t come back to him. 
“sorry i’m late for movie night everyone! i missed you!” you sing out to greet the room, but you’re only looking at your exhausted boyfriend. though he always carried a certain tired stress, he looked worse than usual, and you know that he hasn’t slept through the night since you’ve been gone. you’re on the love seat next to him immediately, jumping all over him and tightening your arms around his neck. his grin spreads, and kurogiri plays the movie to keep everyone else from having to watch in on your reunion and sickening love fest. 
he slides his arm around your back, humming sleazily in your ear. “finally. took you long enough, babe.” he huffs, taking that deep inhale of your sweet smell and sighing his relaxation quietly. his mood is relieved just by holding your frame and feeling your soft hair tickling his cheek. you giggle and sigh too, and he feels the weight of your body slump into his. 
“don’t i know it, was beginning to think you hated me for sending me out there for so long.” you pout, releasing him from your grip to gain sight of his face. he rolls his eyes at you, shaking his head with a tiny amused grin donning his features. 
“you’ll never leave this hideout again. i missed you.” he pinches some of your hair between his fingers and curls the piece around his digits as he looks over your face, gazing at your soft eyes and gentle lips, full cheeks, and everything else he’s missed for what feels like forever. you hum in intrigue at the ‘threat’ and kiss him. you can’t afford to go too hot and heavy with all your friends in the room, but you wanted your boyfriend to know you missed him just as badly as he missed you. your nights weren’t spent sleeping comfortably and every day you felt more and more lost without tomura’s logic keeping you on task. you nibble at his bottom lip, laving your tongue over him with a little moan. he grins, you’re the extrovert, but he’s not shy about making you noisy in front of the others. you feel him smile against your lips before he pulls away, trailing kisses over your cheek until he can bite the lobe of your ear. you gasp sharply, and he’s tossing a blanket over your hips for modesty’s sake. 
you smirk knowingly, lifting your skirt over your ass as the blanket falls in your lap. “oh so my little slut did miss me..” he whispers, licking over your jawline as he reaches under the blanket. the pads of his first two fingers swipe over you panties, tracing the outlines of your lips with a nasty little grin. he can feel your wetness pooling against the fabric already, your desperation making his cock rise against his sweats. he casts his eyes around to make sure no one’s watching, but he’s trained his league better than that. he slides his hand under your waistband, finding your clit automatically. you feel your stomach flutter in response to his touch, the fabric of his mostly fingerless gloves scratch against the inside of your thigh as he presses his sinewy finger in circles around your bundle. you fall against him, head rolling around on his shoulder within seconds. 
he knew you like he built you himself, and he knew that after a trip away—the both of you were insatiable—but you were all too easy to work up. you would tell him all about the mission later. there would be plenty to catch up on after he gives you all you’ve been missing here lately. tomura would be lying if he said that watching you stifle your noises and wiggle against the cushions didn’t affect him, his dick was crying for you. fingering you in front of the league was one thing, fucking you was another. but his body was growing too hot to bear, and he could tell from the need in your eyes that even having him inside you would relieve some of your ache. that should be fine, they wouldn’t look at you no matter what—they knew better than that, but he still didn’t want them hearing your sweet sounds. that was just for him. but with your hips bucking into his hand, and yours clamping down over your mouth as he shoves you over the edge with his fingers—he knows he’ll need to feel you. 
he’s pulling himself out of his sweatpants before he can argue with himself too long about it. his cock stands straight up in wait, and before you know it, tomura’s hands are on your hips and he’s pulling you into his lap. your brain was still mush, veins coursing with the pleasure of being reunited and under his spell. you were so focused on not making any noises that you didn’t even give your needy boyfriend a look of disapproval. he pretends like you’re the problem as if he would be able to sit here with his hands to himself, but you know the truth. shigaraki is just as helpless as you are, hence his finger curling around your panties and hooking them to the side so he can lower you on his waiting cock. 
he makes you sit all at once, and he clamps his free hand over your mouth before you can react to the stretch. then he snakes his arm around your waist, pulling you back to meet his chest. “keep quiet and sit still.” 
you nod vigorously, though you know you’re agreeing to something impossible. you were crazy with need, his fingers only unlocked the gate of your desire. you hadn’t had this dick in you for too long, and now that the length is fully sheathed in you—you’re ordered to sit still? it burns, your hole needed to be stretched back open to accommodate his sizeable length, long curved shaft angled just right against the spots you needed him most–but it wasn’t enough. you needed movement, you needed to hear him grunt and moan and speak unimaginable filth in your ear. you whine out softly, when the movie was loud enough you thought only tomura would hear.
he can feel you squeezing, and despite his orders, you wiggle in his lap irregardless. he should have known you wouldn’t be able to handle obedience after so much time apart, but it’s nothing he can’t remind you of. truth be told, he’s losing his cool too. he missed your wet cunt gripping him like this—how could he be angry at you for needing him so badly when he’s no better? he couldn’t, really, he could only be amused with your affection for him even if it assuaged every worry he had about you leaving him all that time you were gone. his hands dig into your fatty hips to use them as his own personal stress ball, kneading and squeezing on his whim. he can feel everything, every nerve on his body was acutely aware of every labored breath you took and each pound of his heart. he didn’t know if he could be strong much longer—and he knew you wouldn’t be able to keep your mouth shut. 
“you guys have your own room—why do we have to suffer through this?” dabi huffs out, clearly aware of what was going on in the room. twice clasps his hands by his cheek, disagreeing with his teammate. 
“young love! they just missed each other! at least he isn’t pout—” 
“out.” tomura hisses, cock jumping from knowing you were caught. you just clamp around him in answer, just as shameless as your boyfriend. “don’t speak—get out.” 
the other members gave mixed reactions, some rolled their eyes and huffed their way out the door, the others chuckled knowingly—they would rather deal with this shigaraki than the one that misses you any day of the week. when the door shuts and you two are left alone, a mixture of fabric and skin taps against your jaw. tomura held your face in his grip, fingers dancing along your bone in a teasing way. 
“my slut forgot how to listen, hm?” he asks rhetorically, sliding his grip to your neck. he squeezes with just the right amount of pressure to make you dizzy and open your mouth—though he can’t see your skanky face right now. you’re lucky he was just as needy right now or he was liable to leave his dick in you until it went soft without ever moving—but tonight? tonight he needed to reclaim his slutty little cunt until the sun came up. 
“been so long since i had to take orders.” you huff, maybe you were annoyed with him after all. 
he snickers. “attitude, little slut.” he says with a harsher squeeze to your neck. tomura can’t deny his entertainment–you got your nickname from your neediness, after all. “are you really mad at me?” he asks, and you know he wants a real answer. 
“annoyed—why’d you want me gone?” you huff, and he angles his hips up into you without warning. you gasp sharply at the stab, leaning forward to hold onto his knees. 
“didn’t want you gone, brat.” he sighs, letting off your throat in favor of holding the natural handlebars of your curves as he pushes your back forward to watch his dick plow in and out of you, his grip your only guidance. your moans start immediately, and he can’t help but smirk. “you’re my right hand, you’re the only one i can trust with some shit.” 
you purr at his explanation, bouncing along him on your own accord. he’s massive, filling every gap your pussy had to offer unapologetically. he presses against the entrance of your cervix without any movement at all, much less the animalistic style your boyfriend liked to fuck in, it was brutal. but so so good. it burns and sends shooting yet blissful pain through your body with every stroke, you slip forward a little, growing unable to hold yourself up. he grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling you back up without remorse. 
“where you going, slut?” he teased, slamming up into you. it was unfair, he was gifted with such a huge dick he didn’t even need a good angle to absolutely wreck you. he was mesmerized by the sight of your cute little hole puckering around him, swallowing him whole and letting him slide back out. you would squeeze down with every thrust, making him slow down to pull himself out and speedily shove back in. “can’t even take good dick anymore?” 
you mewl out in response, your fingers digging into his thighs as your back arches deeper, only encouraging your boyfriend to speed it all up. it’s like you can feel him in your throat, your entire body being used and abused by the man you missed desperately. shigaraki treats you like his prized treasure any other time, but especially after a trip away—you love being his slut. you moan and through your ass back, making him groan out at the conflicting paces. 
“so nasty. fucking you stupid and look at you—like a bitch in heat.” he chuckles, though it’s all so pornographic to him. no other pussy in the world would feel like yours, your cute clamping and sticky wetness could never be beat. and your insides practically beat into the shape of him, he knows no other dick would have your toes curling as you bounce  and squeal. 
“tomura—” your breathy moan makes his balls hurt. he didn’t care how quickly he came this time. he’ll keep you spread open all night until he’s satisfied with the amount of cum seeping out of the hole made just for him. he wanted you to cum twice as many times as he does, so your sweet moan of his name and your fluttering pussy only tell him to snake his arm around your hips so he can rub your puffy clit again. he loves these gloves you got him, the mesh fabric makes it easier for him to feel everything without fear of quirk activation. he can feel your pulsing need under his fingertips, and he smiles at your sensitivity. you were such a gift to a man like him. 
“what? use your words.” he huffs in disinterest, though you know it’s anything but. your gut lurches, feeling like you stepped on an escalator that was moving too fast. 
“wanna cum, can i please, tomura?” you ask sweetly, calling his name just how he liked and everything. he had every intention of drawing this out—but he supposes he can have that during your next round. 
“do it now.” he orders, gruff voice telling you that there would be no punishment if you didn’t—unless you considered taking him all night a punishment. the sound of him groaning and feeling your body made it easy to follow his orders, your hips still even as his continue their assault. you shake from head to toe, the orgasm so intense after such a long time without cumming on his cock. you squeeze down so hard he sucks in a deep breath, knowing he was going to shoot his load like mount vesuvius. you hum happily, wiggling back on him to milk all the warmth he gave you. he slows his hips to a stop, panting only a little as he pushes you carefully off his lap and onto the love seat. “want to see my slut’s nasty faces this time.” 
he grins as he spreads your legs again, ready to stain the cushions beneath, when someone knocks at the door. twice pounds on the frame again, pouting. 
“can you guys at least pause the movie?” 
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justporo · 10 months
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I just read your headcanons about Astarion, they are so good!! And since he is the hardest for me to understand I'd love to read your headcanons/input about: Him trying to manipulate Tav into liking him, but she simply doesn't get it and thinks he is just after her body and blood (of course she never says that unless he would challenge her)
Alright, I had this sitting in my inbox for a while mostly because I had to give it a good think, my dear. And I'm really digging the idea that Tav is just super oblivious to his manipulation tactics, so have some
Headcanons about Astarion trying to manipulate a completely oblivious Tav
Astarion starts out flirting with Tav just the same he's always done with everyone: trying to pick up on a few things to work it into his routine (even if it is stupid)
"So, darling... knives, eh? I bet you're even sharper than your weapons, my dear." (spoiler alert: obviously this is not the case...)
Or maybe it is just, that you see through his games immediately and were prepared to help him from the start
He really, REALLY puts his back into it but his tactics just won't work with you, you don't seem to pick up on any of the flirting
In turn though, you really don't need to be manipulated, you just offer help "You know, Astarion, if you need some of my blood you can just tell me, it doesn't bother me."
And that makes him very suspicious of you because no one has ever reacted like this, this is not how this thing works! "I bet our sweet little leader very much has an agenda of their own, if you ask me." "And what would that be, Astarion? Go for world domination while the worm slowly devours my brain? Is it so hard to believe that people maybe just want to do the right thing." "Yes actually, oh valiant, noble leader, it is hard to believe - at least for me!" And you see the pain in his eyes as he says that
So the flirty behaviour turns into mean sass very quickly, he snaps at you at every given opportunity - because why would anyone just offer help to a vampire? Nobody could be this good, right? And then also: why did it take so long for him to meet someone like you?
But when you keep offering help and just support him, he breaks at some point; first because he has no other option it seems but later on he allows himself to believe if only just a little and he dares to have just a tiny fraction of hope
Later on when he confesses he was trying to manipulate you and fell for his own trap, you just wrap him in your arms and softly tell him, that he doesn't have to worry about stuff like this anymore; "I just want you to be happy and safe, Astarion, that's all."
And he might not fully or even partially believe you in this moment, but a seed of hope and love is surely firmly planted
So basically, just slam him with support until the sassy little vampire falls in the pit he dug himself, hehe.
Tag list: @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess @azukiel
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Text
Negotiations
a/n: This is Day 2! So sorry it's late, I was hospitalised over the weekend which put me behind! I'm working hard to catch up hehe
Pairing: Ambessa Medarda x Fem!Reader
Prompt: Write a scene without any dialogue
Warnings: smut, vaginal fingering, public sex, alcohol drinking, slight dom-sub vibes, mentions of violence, mention of blood
Summary: Ambessa hates negotiating, no matter how important it is for her rule. Perhaps she will make herself some entertainment to find it more enjoyable...
Word Count: 1.1k
18+ | MEN AND MINORS DNI | 18+
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You know Ambessa finds these meetings the most tedious part of ruling over Noxus. She finds little meaning or use in negotiations, far more used to greeting political rivals and ambitious warlords with her sword at their throat than breaking bread with them. It is a preposterous notion to her, attempting to appease her perceived enemies. As she presides over the emissaries and nobles at the head of the table, you know she is listening keenly, identifying weakness, and sniffing out any hidden agendas. Noxian custom is steeped in violence, and there was a time that Ambessa would be demanding fealty or these peoples’ heads.
But things are different for her now. Now, her daughter Mel has agreed to remain in contact with her and visit Noxus more often with her consort, Jayce. Ambessa can breathe easier knowing that rebuilding the bridge between herself, and her daughter will secure her legacy and ensure that a Medarda inherits the throne upon Ambessa’s death.
She has you now. Seated to her right, close by so she can always see you. Her consort, the love she never thought she’d find again. You’ve dressed yourself in a scarlet red ensemble tonight, complete with a gold medallion belt accentuating your hips. Red and gold, her favourite colours. The colours of war and victory. Conquest. You’ve already caught her more than once tonight, her eyes raking down your figure, her eyes hungry and her tongue darting out to wet her lips. When your eyes meet, she flashes you a fanged smile, no doubt envisioning the many ways she will take you when this insufferable night is over.
You’re drawn to one of the visiting emissaries booming laughter as he gulps down wine and flirts boisterously with the serving girls as they refill his plate and his cup. You try to suppress your smile as you take in Ambessa’s disgust, knowing she’d want nothing more than to pick up the lout like a ragdoll and smash him into the ornate mahogany dining table, likely shattering it in the process.
The image sends an unexpected but not entirely unwelcome rush of heat between your legs. You squeeze your thighs as you imagine her leering down at the man, twitching as blood leaks from his head and then turns to you with her signature smirk. The very same smirk that ushered you into her bed three years ago, at another function where Ambessa was more interested in the wine selection than the purpose of the gathering. The scandal had rocked the court of Noxus, their esteemed leader engaging in an ill-advised relationship with a younger woman, and the daughter of an insignificant noble. She had silenced their doubts in her usual way, with threats of broken bones and removed tongues.
At first, you were convinced that she wanted only for your body, the way she tasted and marked your flesh during your visits bruising you with carnal possession. She was a tornado of fire, and you were blessed to be at the heart of the inferno. Countless nights you found yourself in awe of her, in awe of your luck. Nights spent with shaking legs, dripping with sweat and your own release as she made you scream her name for her over and over again. She was never satisfied with hearing your desperate pleas and devoted prayers to her only once. You never feared her, and knew she would never hurt you, not unless you asked her to.
But she soon proved to you that she wanted more, much more, than what your body could give her. She wanted you by her side always, listening to her stories of long-forgotten battles on distant shores, showing off your new dresses, massaging away her troubles in the bathhouse. She had fallen hard for you, an unexpected light leading her out of the darkness.
You’re startled out of your reminiscing by a hand creeping up your dress, invited in by the high riding slit at the thigh. You gulp as Ambessa’s face remains completely impassive as she sips at her wine, but you don’t miss the quick glance she sends your way, and you know exactly what she’s trying to say.
Be quiet. Don’t move. And enjoy.
Her hand climbs higher, and you hear her try in vain to supress the deep rumbling groan that threatens to emanate from her throat when she finds no underwear to stop her advance. You’re already wet from your earlier fantasising, and your clit is throbbing, begging for her attention. As she drags calloused fingers through your folds, you grit your teeth and grip the table tightly. You’re in for a ride, and regardless of the social setting, Ambessa will expect you to take what she gives you.
She wastes no time in gathering the slick pooling from you, coating her fingers before she pushes one inside. Her fingers are thick, and no matter how used to the stretch you’ve become, you relish in the burn as your pussy eagerly welcomes her inside. Your knuckles are white with how hard you’re holding on and you’re fighting to keep your breathing even, lest one of your guests suspect something’s wrong. Ambessa would hate to be interrupted.
She’s adding a second finger, smirking into her wine as she can feel you tighten around her. You can feel the pressure mounting in your belly, your entire body aching for release. You shoot her a pleading look and feel her curl her fingers in response. You start to see spots at the edge of your vision as she brings you closer and closer, all while engaging in dull conversation. Gods, you were going to make her pay for this later. Her thumb is pressing roughly against your clit in swift, calculated circles, you can feel her determination to send you tumbling over the edge. Soon enough, you are doing just that, but you’re hurtling not simply falling. Your orgasm hits you like a searing meteorite, burning through you with force and it takes all of your self-control not to cry out, biting down on your lip so hard you draw blood. You cover it up quickly by taking a sip of wine, dabbing at your mouth with your napkin and glaring at Ambessa reproachfully. She takes no notice, leaning back in her chair with a self-satisfied grin.
Shaking your head, you try to reintegrate yourself into the conversation, though none of it holds your interest. Instead, you find yourself consumed by thoughts of your handsome warrior, trailing over each scar you can see and thinking fondly of all the ones you cannot but know intimately. You will reward her mischief with a soothing massage and relaxing oils tonight, it’s been far too long since you’ve caressed her bulging muscles. But you will deny her the taste of your flesh until she begs, a fitting punishment for tonight’s shenanigans. After all, no matter what the nobles of Noxus or the visiting emissaries of foreign lands may think, no matter how imposing Ambessa may appear, you know that there is only person she will fall to her knees for. Tonight, you will make her remember why.  
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asuyaka · 11 months
Note
i keep like, struggling to click the 'ask' button, BUT—i love the taking care of geto little one shot. so what about helping him with nanako and mimiko? like he just shows up at r!'s house late as hell with two little girls with him, bc he has zero clue as to how to take care of them. m!reader is pref but idc. i love ur writing btw (^▽^)
★ - yesyesyesyes!! 'm soo inlove with the helpin' Suguru agenda !! ヾ(≧▽≦*)o
☆ - Girldad! Geto Suguru x Male Reader
♡ - off topic, but 'm love your writin' s'much!! really 'm inspiration t'keep writin stuff like this (≧◡≦) ♡
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You were borderline asleep in your room after staying on the phone with Gojo for a few hours until he fell asleep.
It wasn't always like this, he could usually fall asleep on his own but that was when Geto was there with him. Now that's he's become a curse user and has turned his back on the Jujutsu world, everything has basically fallen apart.
Your sleepy eyes glance at the time, the saturated red of '12:42 AM' oozing into your pupils.
You try not to think about Geto so you can get some sleep for the first time in a few weeks. You two were... you're not really sure what your label is.
You two have talked, kissed, cuddled, and gone on dates, but Geto never actually put a label on your relationship and now he probably never will.
A sigh leaves your lips as you cuddle your pillow. Thinking of those big arms that used to wrap around you to keep you safe, or that warm chest that you couldn't help but use as pillows.
Needless to say, you missed him.
You weren't sure how long you stayed there almost on the verge of tears before there was a knock at your front door.
Yeah, you weren't going to open that because— A, you've seen enough horror flicks to know that there's a 99.9% chance that it's a serial killer behind the door, and B, it's 12 AM. You aren't stupid enough to open the door this late.
The knocking persisted. Getting heavier every second you didn't open it, and deciding you didn't want a noise complaint and realizing you were a sorcerer, you begrudgingly got up to open it.
You, surprisingly, were right. It was a serial killer.
Of all the people you thought it could be, you didn't think it would be Geto fucking Suguru outside your door.
"Geto? What are you—" You stopped yourself when you finally saw the two girls behind him.
His expression was something like fear and desperation as they clung onto his clothes, looking at you with weary eyes. "Please, [Name], I need help."
That took you for a spin. After the Star Plasma Vessel, you had to pry it out of him that he needed someone to take care of him, someone to help him, and now he's coming to you with two unknown children willingly asking for it?
Without a word you open your door wider, letting the three of them file in and take a seat on your couch.
You close the door, wiping the tiredness from your face and taking a deep sigh. Yeah, this was going to be a long night.
"What is it, Geto?" You ask, taking a seat on the opposing couch and staring at him. You hope your tone doesn't come up as too mean, you were just really— really tired.
The two girls never left his side. They have masks on, one of the girls with light brown hair, a white hoodie, and a black skirt was pressed on his left while the other with black hair, a black hoodie, and white skirt was pressed against his left, holding a small doll in her hands as well
"They're sick. I've tried everything, medicine, letting them rest, dilating their food but nothing's working." Geto's voice sounds helpless and it honestly scares you because this is the same Geto who went against the Sorcerer Killer.
The same Geto who killed a village, scared over the fact his two... daughters(?) were sick.
The thought brings a smile to your face as you squat in front of him, a soft expression on your face.
"What're your names, hm?"
The girls squeeze him tighter but you don't take offense to it. They're staring at a random man they've never seen before so they're obviously cautious.
"It's okay, he's my— my boyfriend, he's not going to hurt you." You notice the small pause in his voice but you won't speak on it. Not now at least.
The girls look at each other before looking at you. "Nanako." The blonde one says, her small finger pointing at the black-haired girl. "Mimiko. My sister."
You can see the adoring smile on Geto's face and you can't help the smile that tugs on your face. "Mind telling me how you guys feel? Any fevers?"
"My throat hurts and my nose is stuffy. My body feels hot sometimes too." Nanako says, interrupting herself with a cough. Geto shushes her softly, rubbing her back so she can get over her coughing fit with the comfort that her dad was beside her.
You get up, using the back of your hand to feel their foreheads. "Yeah, sounds like hay fever. You mind getting something to drink? Make sure it's hot, but not too hot to burn them."
Geto looks surprised. Maybe he didn't think you'd help him after the whole village incident— he's legally classified as a serial killer, and he's heard from word of mouth that he's a kill-on-sight curse user— but he gets up anyway. Nanako and Mimiko following behind like a pair of ducklings.
Rummaging through your medicine cabinet, you try and find fever and congestion medicine for kids. You have some, surprisingly, it's fresh and isn't expired somehow.
You don't even remember buying it— you don't require it as you didn't follow the 'strongest duo' pipeline of adopting children after the duo split up.
Walking back into the living room, you walk in on Geto blowing the steam off their cups, the recognizable scent of hot chocolate permeating the room.
"You didn't tell us you had a boyfriend, Geto-sama!" Nanako whisper yells, slightly wincing when she drinks her drink too early.
"He's pretty..." Mimiko's voice is so soft, it sends a pang of endearment through your heart. Is this what baby fever feels like?
You wait to hear what Geto says. It isn't eavesdropping if it's in your home, right?
"Yeah, sorry for not telling you it's just... complicated between us." Geto breathes out, kissing their heads as they continue to sip on their coacoa.
Complicated is one word for it, but you keep your thoughts to yourself. Announcing your arrival with an unnecessarily loud shutting of the cabinet.
"So how are you two doing? Feelin' any better?" You ask, placing the medicine on the table in front of them.
Nanako nods excitedly and Mimiko keeps it down. While waiting for them to finish, you decide to put on a movie. The Nightmare Before Christmas, a classic you, Gojo, Geto, and Shoko watched on Halloween when you were first-years.
You catch Geto's nervous glances at you but decide not to speak on it, again. It was adult business, and his kids were around.
The girls take their medicine, it's bitter, but you're sure it'll work. They persuade their dad to letting them sleep over after realizing you have a pillow fort in your room.
You don't really know why you never take it down. Maybe it's because you're too lazy, or you like being reminded of the first place you and Geto had your first kiss, but that's a whole can of emotions you're afraid of opening.
They fall asleep holding each other's pinky. Several of your stuffed animals surround them as their bodies move at the same time rhythmically. Maybe it was twin telepathy, who knows.
Now that it was only you and Geto alone, it was... awkward to say the least.
"I'm sorry for dropping in on you like that," Geto says too afraid to look you in the eye.
"Why didn't you take them to the hospital if you didn't know what was happening?" It's a genuine question, you're sure the doctors would've noticed it was a hay fever quicker than you did.
"I'm not letting those monkeys anywhere near my daughter."
Ah, you forgot he hates non-sorcerers.
You let out a breathy laugh, flopping on the cushion next to him. "I'm your boyfriend now, hm?"
Geto blushes at that. "We never technically broke up, so..."
You smile. Even after his mild— they're not mild, they're very serious— crimes, he's still the same Geto Suguru.
The same Geto Suguru you fell in love with.
"I missed you, you know?" Your voice is barely above a whisper, it's vulnerable.
"I missed you too." His hand is on your cheek and he presses a small kiss on your lips.
You've missed this, you've missed him. His hands, that boyish smile on his face the rare times you manage to get him flustered, his smooth saccharine like voice, everything about him.
As he holds his body against yours, hands intertwined and cursed energy mixing together, you realize you never want to let him go, you don't want this to end.
You want him to stay with you until the end of time.
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universallychaoticpan · 6 months
Note
Hiiiiiii can I request where Chuuya and Fyodor's s/o got captured by Dazai to be interrogate and torture for info but there's no need to do that because s/o just tells Dazai all the half-truths BUT IN RIDDLES and also s/o despite being put in an isolated glass room she is still very much in control of the situation and she can honestly get out of the room anytime she wants but not without spilling some blood ofcourse.
You really should get out more - that's what you were thinking anyway. Sure, getting kidnapped and interrogated by the ADA wasn't on your agenda for the day, but hey, plans change all the time. You smiled, flexing your wrists in the fragile cuffs keeping them behind your back.
The key was always remaining flexible.
So yes, you were quite relaxed. Your underground 'prison' was devoid of any distractions, but as always, you were never one to waste times when there were silver linings to be found. It allowed you time; time to think, to plot, to come up with a thousand escape plans, all involving varying degrees of blood and gore. Fyodor wouldn't come to your aid- you were sure of that much. Perhaps that would be insulting to others, but to you, the message was clear: he trusted you. He trusted that his little bird, his little love, his darling with the knife-tipped fingers and the bloody smile would find their way back to him no matter what. It would be child's play, getting out; another thing you knew for certain. Even with the ADA trapping you, you had deduced a few critical facts. One- they had hidden your current location from you, leaving you in the dark as to where you were. Two- the amounts of time between visitors averaged around an hour between each encounter. Three- They always came in alone, and there were only three suspects you'd come to expect. The conclusion you had come to made you smile even wider in your solitude: not only were they weakened significantly, their members were stretched far too thin to possibly stand a chance at containing you if it came down to it.
yes, you knew it sure as you knew your own name.
And it maddened the man sitting across the room from you despite his best attempts to hide it.
Osamu Dazai was quickly falling into a battle of wits with you, baited by your silence and your odd little smiles.
"You already know my question," he smiled, approaching you. "So I'll ask again for the last location of Fyodor's base of operations as you know it."
"And my answer has not changed, detective- you're an even bigger idiot than you look if you think I'm simply going to tell you." Instead of keeping your eyes lowered in some vain attempt to hide any 'tells,' you kept your eyes up. You stared him down, lips curling up into a pleasant smile. "You're welcome to leave and send in another one of your associates to try again."
He turns away, sneering as he striped off his coat, dropping it on the floor before revealing a wickedly pointed knife that reflected the slightly deranged gleam in his eyes. They chilled you, those eyes- how similar they were to Fyodor's, not in appearance maybe, but in their cool ruthlessness, in their kaleidoscopic depth that made you feel at once safe and critically endangered.
'I could hurt you, you know," he purred, slipping behind you, roughly pulling your head back by your hair and exposing the smooth column of your throat to him.
"You could," you agree, still smiling. "But what good will spilling my blood do you? Other than making me more inclined to lie in order to stop the pain...Really, what cards do you have to play? You have no way of proving what I say is true; anything I tell you is tantamount to sending you on a wild goose chase even if it is true. I suppose you could kill me, but then you've lost the closest chance you have at finding the man you seek." His eyes narrow as you chuckle. "And the longer you wait to decide what to do with me, the higher the risk grows that I will grow bored and simply walk away, leaving you lot empty handed." You swallow hard as the blade finds your jugular, a slip of a finger being the difference between life and death.
"And anyway, you've walked on the ground you seek already...it's not my fault you're too blind to see it. At this point your wasting my time, running in circles when you've found the answer. You dogs, detectives- you'd rather gnaw on the bone of a satisfying interrogation than tie up the loose ends you've already begun to unravel! The answer is so simple, you've never even thought to look- the easiest way to confuse smart people, I find, is to make the solutions to their problems the most obvious one."
You're close enough that you can register the look that crosses Dazai's face- the look of a man who's been given the all important device when it comes to solving any puzzle: a clue.
"Where?"
You let your head fall to the side, nicking your skin in the process. "Oh no, detective, I'm afraid that's all I'm inclined to offer.
Your intentions were clear - goading a man like Osamu Dazai was a dangerous game, and yet here you were. He spun the knife in his hands, until the point hovered directly above your heart. "Where?"
This time, you simply let your head fall back, smiling insipidly as you feel your ability floating at the edges of your consciousness, begging you to harness it.
"Really?" His voiced hissed in your ear, venomous and angry as he began to lose his patience. "You talk too much too often and choose now to be silent?"
"You talk too much detective-
next time, I would advise you to keep your eyes on the hands of your captives rather than their mouths."
In the time it takes to blink, you had him on the wall, as you used your hands to wrap the handcuffs around his throat and squeeze, his knife now tucked neatly against his pulse point.
"I warned you, detective- next time, I advise you to not let me get bored."
You smiled sweetly at him one last time, tightening the chain as you pecked his cheek.
"Do svidaniya!"
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spiderlandry · 1 year
Text
this is eclipse — neteyam sully
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Description: The golden child is reduced to a nervous mess all because of a fierce hunter from the Metkayina clan.
Pairing: Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk'itan x GN!Reader
Warnings/Tags: fluff, talks of courting/mating, maybe timeline inaccuracy? impulsively written at 3am and unedited so apologies for any mistakes
Word Count: 1.6k
Author’s Note: spreading the loona agenda with this title so don’t forget to stream OEC’s new comeback and also a reminder not to stream any music owned by blockberry <333
The waves crash against the shore, pushing and pulling. The sand digs into your thighs and hands. The light of the sun dwindles as the eclipse blankets Awa’atlu in darkness, the glow of the sea finally threatening to come out at dusk.
You’ve been alone for a while. An hour, maybe. But a familiar shadow looms behind you.
“Are you just going to stand there?” You ask him.
Lo’ak clears his throat, clearly surprised at having been caught. It’s not even that you’d seen his shadow—you felt his presence from his breath alone.
“Um—no. Sorry.” He tentatively steps beside you, lowering himself to sit criss-cross.
“Do you have a reason why you were just standing behind me?”
You can tell he’s a little scared. Of what, you don’t know. These few months you’d welcomed them into your home, assisted your friend Tsireya in helping the Sully family get settled. You have been nothing but kind, albeit reserved. So maybe Lo’ak reads the confusion on your face when he’s suddenly nervous.
“I just wanted to ask you something,” Lo’ak states with a layer of reluctance he’s trying to mask.
You stay silent.
“Are you…being courted by anyone?”
You resist the urge to snap your head in his direction, instead opting to turn your head slowly.
“Does Tsireya know you’re asking me this?“
You’re not a fool—you’ve seen them sneak off together at dawn a few times this month.
“Yeah. I mean…no. But I’m not asking for me,” he stumbles out his response, a little shocked that you’d noticed his ‘thing’ with Tsireya.
“Whom are you asking for?”
“Um…” He hesitates, “My brother.”
Ah. Neteyam. You’re not strangers. You helped him with his ilu, you remember his eagerness vividly. And how secretly proud he was after Lo’ak said he bonded with a tulkun, despite his teasing. You look out into the sea again, formulating a response.
“If your brother wishes to court me, he can ask me himself.”
You stand up, dusting sand off your body, leaving Lo’ak with a grimace and a thought that he might have just blown his brothers chances.
-
Upon arriving at Awa’atlu, Neteyam’s eyes had been drawn to you the second you emerged from your people, standing out as a graceful presence rather than a cautious stranger. He recalls how you watched his family ask for sanctuary with only a careful gaze rather than with any semblance of disgust like the others did.
His infatuation with you only grew tenfold when you were assigned to help the Tsireya and Ao’nung with getting the family to learn the ways of Metkayina. At first, he thought you were the eldest child of Tonowari and Ronal by how they treated you with such respect, but he was proven wrong when the leader said your families are just close.
You helped him focus on his breathing, tapping him lightly when he would get distracted with teasing Lo’ak about Tsireya.
He thinks the infatuation turned into something else—something more—when he really saw you in your element.
It turns out, you come from a long line of fierce hunters. Tsireya said that you’re one of the youngest to have completed Iknimaya a few years ago, and your grandfather taught Tonowari how to hunt. Neteyam’s heart deflated at the thought that you were likely already being courted, if not mated.
A few months into learning, you offered to take Neteyam hunting beyond the reef. Seeing as he was mastering his skills quickly, you’d been granted a pass from the leaders to show the oldest Sully what happens beyond the reef, partly to show him the dangers, a warning not to go out there unless he is with an experienced hunter, as you are.
He watched from his ilu as you navigated the complicated terrain that was the sea, weaving your body through corals and seaweeds.
Though you didn’t stay for long, you brought back a decent amount for the clan.
Needless to say, he couldn’t get enough of you after that.
He begins to observe you even more, since the training load had been lightened, he would allow himself to focus on how you carry yourself around your people.
He knows you’re reserved around the Sully family. A day after their arrival, you barely said two sentences to Neytiri, letting the basket of gathered fruits speak for itself as a welcome gift rather than using your words.
However, the way you act around your own people is different. It’s not surprising to him that you’re popular, often kids huddle around you during the start of celebrations to hear about hunting stories you’d inherited from your family. He notices men and women your age make conversation, and older clan members hold respect for you. Hell, even Ao‘nung backed off with a nod when you warned him about his teasing.
But what really got him was seeing how you opened up to his family.
During the fifth month, your parents, along with many others, had gone on a long hunting trip for the upcoming cold season.
He wonders why you stayed back, as Rotxo offhandedly mentioned that you typically went on these trips. Neteyam doesn’t care, though, because that means he gets to see more of you.
With your parents away, you find more time to get to know the Sully’s past teaching them about Metkayina life.
He finds you playing with Tuk, even introducing her to other kids in the clan, and his chest swells with pride as he watches his little sister feel more at home. Later, he spots you talking to Kiri, and she looks genuinely engrossed in the conversation.
There is nothing more he’d like than to begin courting you. But the problem is that he doesn’t even know if you’re available. What if you’re already mated?
He ends up regretting voicing these thoughts to Lo’ak in a small rant—because the day after the conversation, Lo’ak comes running to him, apologetic, saying that he might have made you mad.
“Why would they be mad?” Neteyam asks.
“Because!” Lo’ak shrugs, and the older brother has that face saying spit it out. So he does. “I told them that you were interested.”
Neteyam’s eyes widen, and for a moment Lo’ak is scared that he’s about to get a light smack in the head, but it seems Neteyam is too concerned with running to your marui, so he’s safe. (For now.)
Neteyam slows down a few feet from your home, catching his breath. The flap is open, and he can hear a fire crackling inside. It’s almost dinner.
He hesitates, stepping closer to the entryway of your marui. You’re chopping vegetables, and you don’t realize he is there. He hovers. You’re too focused to hear him.
But he’s wrong.
“You know,” You begin, and Neteyam is taken aback. “It is customary to announce your presence upon entering someone’s home.”
He clears his throat a bit too loud for it to be real. You both know it’s fake. Yet you don’t look up to him with any hints of dissatisfaction on your face—no, it’s the opposite. There’s a smirk lingering on your pretty lips. (Get it together, Neteyam! You need to apologize, he thinks to himself.)
“Does the sneaking run in the family?” You tease, talking with the knife in your hands and gesturing to him. “It is the second time that’s happened.”
“I—I’m sorry,” he bows his head slightly, ears pinned against his skull in embarrassment. If any of his siblings were here to see, he just knows the jokes would be unbearable.
You manage to reduce him to a bumbling mess. Well, as much a mess as the golden child could be.
“Why are you sorry?” You ask, and at first he thinks you’re doing it to test him, but when he looks into your eyes and finds only curiosity, he answers.
“For sneaking up on you. And for Lo’ak bothering you about my interest.”
“Wait—“ You hold back a laugh, putting down the knife and clambering up to stand close to him. His breath hitches. “I was only teasing you. And Lo’ak was not a bother to me.” You shake your head, confused.
“He…he thinks he might have made you angry.” Neteyam is a little quiet, but his eye contact does not yield. Neither does yours.
“I wasn’t angry. I just wanted you to ask me about courting matter, not your brother.”
“He asked without my permission, please understand.” As the words register in his brain, his jaw slackens. “You—you want me to ask you?”
“Is that not how your people do it?”
“It is, it is. But I thought…you might have already been promised. To someone.” He searches your eyes for something, anything.
“I am flattered you think that, Teyam. But I’m not.”
His tail swishes in excitement at the nickname. No matter how embarrassing you may think it to be, he just can’t help the way his body reacts to you.
(You think it’s cute.)
“So?” You continue at his silence.
“I would like that. To court you, I mean.”
The smirk on your lips morphs into a genuine smile and he mirrors your expression, the two of you gazing into each other’s eyes like nothing else mattered.
A small pop of the fire snaps you out of the trance, and he glances at the empty marui. Right. You’d been alone for a while.
The question is stumbling out of his mouth before he can realize its implications:
“Would you like to eat with my family?”
But surprisingly, you don’t falter, “I was hoping you’d ask.”
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katakaluptastrophy · 9 months
Text
Thinking about how Harrow was brought up knowing what she cost. That her price was the death of her House. How she had to be a perfect necromancer to prove to her parents that cost was worth it.
And thinking about who she asks for help when she is at her most desperate.
Harrow, who has never belonged to herself.
He reached out for your hands. You could not refuse him, and in any case had no choice of doing so; your body reacted long before your mind did, and the meat of your meat and the flesh of your flesh belonged to God.
Harrow, who only ever experienced love as a response to her worthiness.
Her most vivid memory of her mother was of her hands guiding Harrow’s over an inexpertly rendered portion of skull, her fingers encircling the fat baby bracelets of Harrow’s wrists, tightening this cuff to indicate correct technique.
And how that colours her entire perception of kindness. Of what those who try to love her want.
“I would like to give you something,” said Abigail Pent. This was to Harrowhark. She watched as the capable hands—strong, for a necromancer’s, beautifully formed and with very even nails—took a bit of folded paper from the table. She passed it to her Ninth colleague as though it did not hurt her to give away such precious material.
How John imagines Harrow as his daughter, but can only love her selfishly; her creation a mirror of his own sins.
You’d make a hell of a daughter, Harrowhark. I sometimes indulge in the wish that you’d been mine.
How Abigail, in loco parentis, having exorcised the children that weren't quite her's either so that she could help to keep Harrow safe, wants to comfort her but can't.
Abigail Pent took off her glasses and popped them down into the top fold of her robe. She reached out to touch Harrow’s arm, and Harrow flinched away; she winced a little in sympathetic apology, and removed her hand.
How Harrow is haunted throughout HTN not just by the actual ghost trying to destroy her, but by the memory of her parents, their touch, and by those who for better or for worse want to parent her. Abigail, who loved the children whose planet she was annexing - a fate Harrow viscerally feared. And John, who will show his love for his unexpected daughter by making her an undead construct. However well meaning, Harrow cannot conceive of parental love without possession, without an agenda.
The Emperor set down his tea and finished off his biscuit, and did that terrible thing that he did, on occasion: he reached over to touch your shoulder in that brief, tentative way, the lightest and swiftest of gestures, as though afraid that he might burn you. Your mother had guided your hands over bloating corpses. Your father had held down the corners of great tomes, and his sleeve had brushed your six-year-old-fingers as he showed you how best to turn their pages. Both of them had pressed a rough rope made of coated fibre into your hands—you recalled the pressure from their palms, their attempts to be gentle. When the Emperor touched you, your body recalled, unbidden, each rare and terrible touch committed by your mother and father.
How the one touch Harrow doesn't flinch away from is Ortus, who acknowledges his failure to protect Harrow and wants to make amends.
It was difficult to know what to do with this type of touch. It made her whole soul flinch, but at the same time opened some primeval infant mechanism within her, as though the embrace were a mirror: having someone hold up an image by which you could see yourself, rather than living with an assumption of your face. It was not like the touch of her father or mother. When she had first sat by the tomb in shivering awe, she had fancied that the Body’s ice-ridden fingers had shifted for hers, minutely. Gideon had touched her in truth; Gideon had floundered toward her in the saltwater with that set, unsheathed expression she wore before a fight, her mouth colourless from the cold. Harrow had welcomed her end, but suffered a different death blow altogether—and she had become, for the second time, herself. She untangled from Ortus, more reluctantly than she’d expected.
And now Abigail Pent and Ortus are (probably) dead. Gideon is John's daughter. The Body is Alecto, awake and on the move, meat loving meat.
Desperately hoping that in ATN Harrow and Gideon have an embrace without agenda where they are both simply themselves.
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adventuringblind · 6 months
Text
Pieces From You
Carlos Sainz Jr. x Reader
Genre: Ghoulverse Hurt-comfort
Summary: Carlos catches fleeting moments of pain through his mating bond. When he finds her being cut open, Carlos has to act fast and choose between revenge and saving the girl he loves.
Warnings: Blood, Ghouls eat people and is a major plot point, gore, Jos Verstappen's A+ parenting, abuse, anxiety, hospitals, mentions of sexual things, Landoscar being chaotic, protective big brother Max
Notes: For 🏍, I loved getting to write for my ghoul boys again, so I really hope you like it! T_T
Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi
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It's not like he was planning to run around the paddock like a maniac. It was the last thing he wanted to have on his agenda for today. However, the tie between him and his mate has him searching for her.
Whatever is causing her this pain needs to be eliminated. Carlos is doing his best to keep himself steady as he searches. He has a feeling he already knows what's happening. Or, at the very least, has an idea.
Max's baby sister had been on the unfortunate end of not receiving whatever gene makes them ghoul. Despite being pureblooded and the rest of her family having it. An anomaly that's made her different; a black sheep in her own home. That being said, Max has always been obnoxiously protective of her despite their fathers wants.
Carlos had seen the scars and bite marks. He'd seen the way she'd offered herself up on a silver platter when Max first introduced them all those years ago. It was customary for her, apparently, to let ghouls take a piece of her body. It hurt knowing even her father has taken bites out of her. Most likely, that’s what is happening now despite the fact she has his bonding venom seeping through her veins.
It hadn’t taken long for him to realize the what was happening between them. That the mating call was there. Max was just a protective batard that wouldn’t let him anywhere near her until he proved himself. Which - considering her situation - made Carlos feel a little better.
Max had tried his best; he’s still trying his best. The piece of horn Max burned off for her rests against her neck. Carlos’ joined beside his while they were dating. He discovered how bad it hurts to lose a piece of the bone. Yeah, it’ll grow back, but in the moment he was a blubbering mess and she was the one holding his hand.
With two horn pieces and a scarred over bonding mark, this shouldn’t be happening anymore. Nobody should be laying a finger on her; on his mate.
Carlos makes his way to the Redbull garage. He’d spent the last hour in debrief and already searched all of his. If she’s not there, then she’s probably around Max. Or was trying to be around him and got separated. Worse - max could be the source of her pain. Prince of the ghouls or not, he won’t hesitate to rip him apart if that’s the case.
He dives into the Redbull garage and follows his nose. Not the best of his species but it works. It’s his ears that work better and as he turns a corner, he finds he doesn’t need his nose anymore. Carlos can hear her wailing for either himself or Max. the latter must not be around if he’s not already fighting whoever has the audacity to try and hurt Carlos’ lover.
He slides around the corner and snarls at the, ironically, human offender. She's wailing at the man, trying to shove him off but failing despite her best efforts. It doesn't help this guy has gravity on his side with a knee in her chest. He's carving out pieces of her, slowly and methodically.
The red on the floor and the tang of metal burning his nose. He has to do everything in his willpower not to make a show of it. If he risks himself, he can't help her.
He settles for dragging the man backwards, wrestling the knife away from him. "Funny, I thought humans didn't eat people." Carlos tosses the struggling body to the side and makes for the girl on the floor.
"Pretty bite mark on her neck, wouldn't you say?" The cocky smile on the mans face nearly sends Carlos into a frenzy. "Figured I should show her what's gonna happen eventually."
"Ah yes, hurt the innocent because that's how to win them to your side." This time - he does abandon the original plan and flashes his elongated canines at him. Carlos' eyes darken when the man shrinks backwards and hauls ass in the other direction. Carlos will deal with him later.
With nothing else around to try and stop the bleeding, Carlos sheds his own shirt and wraps it around the gaping wound in her. He should not be able to see that much of the under part of her skin.
"I tried to get him off-"
"I know, you did so well amor. Just keep your eyes on me now, yeah?"
He pulls out his phone and rings Lando. He silently pleads that the Brit picks up because there is no way Carlos is going to get into emergency with her like this. Not when it's standard to test everyone who walks through the doors.
"Hola~ You've reached Lando!"
"Need you in the Redbull garage."
Carlos can hear Lando's chipper mood fade away. "Everything alright?"
"Need your human self to get her to emergency. Also, bring Oscar with you." The girl underneath him whines as he tries to keep pressure on the wound.
"And why would you need my mate for considering he can't get into emergency either?"
"Well - I'm going to need him to stop me and Max from doing anything stupid."
~
Carlos and Max are pacing the floor. He feels like he's explained the situation to the Dutch a hundred time now and he's still not computing.
"But he was human?"
Oscar knocks his head against the door. A smart move, considering it's the only exit. "He was proving a point."
"It was the wrong one," Max huffs and crosses his arms. Twenty-six now and Max still has the ability to look like Carlos' seventeen year old teammate who pouted when his voice cracked. His sister had been younger then and Max wouldn't let her near the track; not until she was an adult. Even then it was a pain.
His phone rings with Lando's contact. The Facetime call makes him hope that he'll get to see his girl awake.
Lando's face fills the screen, a little smile on his face. "I figured you would want proof of life." He pans the camera over to her and the blinking heart monitor and her blinking eyes. She tries to smile at him, but it's lopsided. "Her arm is pretty messed up and they are getting ready for surgery, but she'll be alright."
Carlos' heart settles a bit. He won't be able to calm completely until she is back in his arms. It helps know that she is at least okay and breathing.
Max throws himself in front of Carlos’ phone screen. “Thanks for being with her Lando.”
“I can’t have my emotional support tribe human dying on me! I would die with the three of you all alone! Oscar could dick me down for days and I still would be stressed!”
“Are you saying my dick isn’t good enough?” Max and Carlos turn to look at Oscar as Lando is now blushing furiously on the phone screen.
“That’s not - you know that’s not what I meant!”
There is nothing more terrifying than Oscar's calm expression with the slightest hint of a smirk. "Uh-huh, nice try. If you can walk tomorrow, then you're not walking anywhere until you can't do it without stumbling."
There is a slurred laugh of Carlos' love echoes through the speakers of the phone. "Maybe Lando will be in here with me."
Carlos can't help but lose it. All he wants is to wrap her up in his arms. Let Lando try to outrun Oscar and laugh when he's limping to the airport and can't sit right on Max's jet.
Really, he just wants her.
"When will the surgery be done?"
"They are estimating late tonight, depending. Might be faster than that."
Carlos looks at Max and Oscar. "I think we have time to do some hunting, wouldn't you say?"
He receives a couple of smirks in return.
~
She cracks her eyes open, disoriented, and groggy. Her arm hurts, and the memory of being pinned hits her harder than ever.
She sits up in a hurry, franticly looking to see if she's alone. Lando appears in the corner of her eye and gently pushes her back down. "You're alright now. Doctors got you all patched up." He smiles at her gently despite the hesitancy in his eyes.
"Where's Carlos?" Her voice is in shambles and makes her cringe.
Lando keeps a hand on her bicep. "He's with Max and Oscar. Want to see if he'll pick up?"
She nods her head yes, excited to see her savior. Though her plans are foiled when her doctor cones in. Her eyes widen at seeing the male, not the same one, but similar to her attacker.
She stays small and quiet as he goes about his work, checking her charts. He leans down to listen to her heart and whispers. "I saw the mark, don't worry, I'm one of them. I know how to get your mate in here if you would like?"
Both her and Lando are nodding frantically. The waiting is miserable, but they pass the time with light conversation and cartoons.
The doctor comes back in with the three ghouls in tow. They are chatting away like nothing is the matter. He does another once over if her vitals before leaving them to their own devices.
As in, she drags Carlos into the bed with her. He takes the side that has her good arm and cradles her injured arm gently. He gently runs his fingers along the bandages. "He's gone now. You won't ever have to worry about him again."
She peers up into his eyes. "Why's that?"
The three ghouls share a look, and Lando gives Oscar a skeptical glare. "What did you three do?"
"Revenge tastes delicious sometimes." Max giggles and winks at her. To most it be unsettling. To her, it brings a sense of comfort.
Later into the night, when the other three boys are asleep, she lays away on Carlos' chest. He's been trying to get her to sleep for an hour now, but there is an unsettling anxiety after today's events. There are too many possibilities.
"Sleep, mi amor. I can feel you thinking too much."
"I'm scared... it's not just my dad anymore. I thought I would be able to flash my mating mark and be safe. It's the humans, too, though. Am I... am I like them now? If I'm not giving myself to solve the problem, then am I adding to it?" It feels to say it aloud. All those heavy thoughts finally lifted off her chest.
Carlos continues his soothing motion on her head. He tucks her closer to his chest. "You never have been and never will be a problem. It's others who fight amongst themselves over mindless disagreements and differing opinions. You are someone who can understand us. You don't intend on hurting anyone." She can feel his love for her radiating through her veins as he continues. "What happened today wasn't your fault. That was someone else being cruel because they were scared."
"You are my everything, Carlos. I just want to help."
"You help me by being alive; by being yourself. A fighter who isn't afraid to throw herself in front of an apex predator if it means protecting them."
Carlos looks at her with adoration in his eyes. He cups her face gently, fingers brushing over the bite mark on her clavicle as he moves upward.
"I couldn't have chosen anyone better. You are perfect, and in time, I think you're going to make this world a better place."
With the need for reassurance her mind was craving now sated, she rests peacefully. Immune to the world around her and safe in Carlos' arms. It's a good feeling to know that he's not just protecting her; she's doing the same for him.
... Even if it isn't always the outcome she wanted.
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in1-nutshell · 7 months
Note
Okay I just had an idea for The Old Predacon archivist buddy for transformers prime how would ratchet and Optimus and possibly Megatron and starscream or maybe Orion would react to The old archivist Predacon buddy I can just see old Predacon buddy geeking out with Orion and Buddy would be like a mentor to Orion and Buddy would most likely try and make sure the humans stay out of trouble but how would The decepticons react to Predacon buddy go absolutely berserk like They just snap due to Predacon buddy's patience being completely gone because Predacon buddy doesn't really become angry or agitated because they have a lot of patience but at some point they are going to snap and is possibly going to show why they were terrifying in the gladiatorial arenas (also I probably think PreKing would be the adopted kid of old Predacon buddy lol but if you want you can add preKing if you want to) =]
Someone's going to do the impossible... making Buddy snap.
We will get Predaking and Buddy's interactions another time.
Hope you enjoy!
Bot Buddy the Old Predacon archivist snapping
SFW, Platonic, mention of injury, hurt and comfort, Cybertronain reader
TFP
When Buddy was back on Cybertron they had finally managed to score their dream job.
Being an archivist in Iacon.
Not that they really needed the job.
They managed to buy their own freedom from all the fights they fought, and they were still loaded from the other jobs they did on the side.
But they got bored, and they loved spending time in the halls of Iacon, not like anyone would be able to get them out anyways.
Buddy curled up beside one of the shelves intently reading a data pad.
One of the security guards turned the corner seeing the giant bot and just turning the other way.
They weren’t getting paid enough to deal with that.
Buddy managed to become acquainted with one of the clerks in the halls.
A small mech.
Orion Pax.
Orion walking into the halls after getting back from talking with Megatronus.
“Pax! My friend, there you are.”--Buddy
Orion spots Buddy happily walking over to him giving a slight shoulder hug.
Orion reciprocates the hug from his friend.
“I am fine Buddy.”--Orion
“Anything interesting happen?”--Buddy
“Not particularly.”--Orion
“I found the data pad you were looking for.”--Buddy
Buddy passes the data pad to Pax.
“Really? Where did you find it?”--Orion
“On the top shelf.”--Buddy
“…”--Orion
Orion was also starting to think he attracted dangerous looking bots.
Buddy loved spending time with the mech.
He was insightful for his age; it was nice to see it in the younger generations.
Buddy would share bits of their wisdom with him from time to time.
“Word of advice Pax, never get a Predacon angry. Especially in the air, you’ll be asking to get sliced by that point.”--Buddy
“What?”--Orion
“Trust me on that one Pax. It’s not pretty.”--Buddy
“…We were just talking about the rude client that stepped on your tail.”--Orion
When the time came for Orion and Megatronus, Buddy had a bad feeling about the whole meeting.
They never trusted the Senate.
Buddy would have been freed a long time ago if it weren’t for the Senate’s ruling over the arenas, this just further proved it.
Ratchet and Buddy waiting outside.
“What do you think will happen after this?”--Ratchet
“… I do not know Ratchet… Never have trusted the Senate. They are an unpredictable and diabolical bunch, there’s no telling what their agenda is.”--Buddy
Buddy turns to Ratchet.
“No matter what, keep an optic out for Pax for me will you?”--Buddy
“What? Where is this coming from?”--Ratchet
Buddy looking at their servos.
“Someone needs to try and look after Megatronus. Gladiator to gladiator.”--Buddy
“Buddy you’re too old to try and fight him now.”--Ratchet
“I’m not going to fight him Ratchet, just keeping an optic out for him. Hopefully this won’t last too long my friend.”--Buddy
Time skip after Buddy joins the Autobots.
Buddy enjoyed the little reunion with Optimus and Ratchet when they came to the base.
Granted they could have given them a fair warning…
Autobots minding their own business in the base.
Ratchet trying to reach the tool on the high shelf.
Buddy reaching over and handing it to him.
“Thank you.”--Ratchet
“You’re welcome.”--Buddy
“…”--Ratchet
Ratchet suddenly looking behind him meeting the chassis of Buddy.
“BUDDY!?”--Ratchet
Suddenly everyone realizes the giant Predacon on base.
Everyone’s weapons are pointed to Buddy as they calmly continue their conversation with Ratchet.
“Hello Ratchet! It’s been some time, no?”--Buddy
“How—What—HOW DID YOU EVEN GET IN HERE?!”--Ratchet
“I have my ways. Now, where’s Optimus?”--Buddy
Cue Optimus coming in with a data pad in his servo.
Buddy whipping their helm towards the sounds of the pedes and smiling widely.
“Prime!”--Buddy
Optimus having to do a double take.
“Buddy?”--Optimus
Buddy walks over to the Prime giving him a frame crushing hug, while Ratchet is trying to calm everyone down.
“Its been too long my friend.”--Buddy
“I thought that the war—”--Optimus
“Its going to take a lot more than a couple fireworks to keep me grounded Prime.”--Buddy
“Is there a reason why you’re here?”--Optimus
“Yes. I’m helping your side now.”--Buddy
“Why?”--Ratchet
“I will admit I was a fool for thinking there was still room to negotiate things with Megatron, the Predacon incident was the final straw. There is no turning back for him.”--Buddy
“Yeah… sorry about that?”--Bulkhead
“None taken my friend.”--Buddy
“Friend?”--Wheeljack
“Any friend of Pax—I mean Prime and Ratchet is my friend.”--Buddy
“Hey!”--Miko
Buddy looking down seeing a human girl with pink highlights.
“Hello? And who might you be?”--Buddy
“I’m Miko! That’s Jack and the little one’s Raf.”--Miko
“I’m not that little!”--Raf
Buddy watching the three humans have a little squabble.
Buddy is already making an oath to protect these teeny humans with their life.
Buddy loves the kids to death.
But they are going to be the death of them.
Stress is not good for the elderly.
Everyone constantly tries to see where Buddy’s limits are.
So far none of them had reached it.
But someone did.
Starscream did.
He did the impossible.
He made the old Predacon finally snap.
All he had to do was some light kidnapping and harm.
The Second in Command thought it was a great idea to kidnap the kids.
After tracking down their signal, Buddy was the first to find them while Starscream was still in the air.
Then Starscream transformed, letting the children drop out of his cockpit.
Buddy yelled as they dove down to catch them all on their backside.
While inspecting them, they noticed that Miko was holding her leg in pain.
“Is everyone okay?! Miko? Miko, what’s wrong?”--Buddy
Miko holding her leg with tears rolling down her face, biting her lip. Jack and Raf trying to steady her on Buddy’s back.
Buddy taking a better look at Miko’s leg, no leg should have been bent like that.
“What’s wrong Predacon? Your age finally caught up with you? Humans are so fragile aren’t they.”--Starscream
“What. Did. You. Do.”--Buddy
Starscream had the audacity to come over and laugh, admitting to having snapped the leg before tossing her in.
Snap!
Buddy carefully slipped the humans into one of their subspaces and headed into the nearest groundbridge.
Carefully passing them to Ratchet before sprinting back into the open groundbridge.
Optimus suddenly worried for his friend went behind his back in his jet pack. He hadn’t seen Buddy run that fast in a very long time.
The Prime had heard of Buddy’s fighting skills many times, even having the privilege to train a bit with them.
But it was a completely different experience seeing it with his own optics in the air.
Buddy bursting through the groundbridge grabbing their sword with a murderous look on their faceplate.
“STARSCREAM!”--Buddy
Buddy begins to fight Starscream avoiding all missiles and switching between their two modes to fight him.
“Where was this when you were a part of the Decepticons?! Where—”--Starscream
SLAM!
Buddy roundhouse kicking Starscream in the chassis.
“DON’T!”--Buddy
PUNCH!
“TOUCH!”--Buddy
KICK!
“MY!”--Buddy
SLAM!
“KIDS!”--Buddy
If Soundwave had not groundbridged him out of there The Second in Command would have been another number on Buddy’s scored board.
Good news for Starscream.
Bad news for the Decepticons…
Lazerbeak had caught the entire thing on video.
Decepticons looking at the main screen at Starscream’s beat down.
“Oh. My…”--Knockout
“They could have done that!? Here!?”--Breakdown
“…Do you think that the Autobots are still open for new recruits?”--Steve
Meanwhile with the Autobots.
After Buddy calmed down, they went back to the base with Optimus behind them.
The two didn’t talk much going back.
In a way, Starscream deserved that.
No one was going to hurt the kids without suffering any consequences.
Jack and Raf suffered from minor scrapes and bruises.
Miko had her femur snapped in half.
Lucky for her, it was a clean break.
Buddy did not leave the kids side for a long time.
They got too anxious whenever one of them was gone for too long.
To keep some peace, Buddy was allowed to protect them in the base while their guardians still did their jobs.
Especially when Miko decided to try and sneak out on another mission.
Bulkhead was lucky enough to catch Miko and bring her back to base.
“Miko you’re still healing. You still need a couple more days of rest, then you’ll be up and at it no time!”--Bulkhead
“I guess…” --Miko
The two walk into the base hearing a bunch of crashing and metal scrapping.
“Buddy you need to calm down!”--Ratchet
“Where is she!? Where is she?! I swear I just turned my back for one second! What if she’s hurt Ratchet!?”--Buddy
“She’s right there.”--Ratchet
Buddy turning around to see Miko on Bulkhead’s servo.
“Oh, thank the Primes…”--Buddy
Buddy transforms into their dragon form, gently picks up Miko from her shirt, curls up around her while ‘trapping her with their giant claws.
Raf and Jack join in the cuddle pile.
“You kids are not making it easy for an old timer like me.”--Buddy
“Oh please, Ratchet’s the oldest one here.”--Miko
“No, he’s not.”--Buddy
“No, I’m not”--Ratchet
“I’m the oldest one here Miko.”--Buddy
“Wait so you’re older than Ratchet? By how much?”--Raf
“… To put it into perspective, Ratchet is still a kid in my optics.”--Buddy
“How old are you!?”--Miko
“That’s a question for another time Miko. Get some rest.”--Buddy
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torukmaktoskxawng · 10 months
Text
tsamsiyu ta'em - healing and closure part one
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Masterlist - part thirteen
Summary: In the aftermath of the battle, some tensions are high, and the Sullys have to learn how to let go.
Pairing: Ronal/Tonowari/Original Female Character
Tag: #tsamsiyu ta'em fic
posted on ao3
Word Count: 6k+
Warnings: 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
A/N: As Anakin Skywalker once said, "This is where the fun begins." 😈
I had to split this chapter into two parts because it was getting to be over 15k words... so expect the second one soon!
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Smoke continued to fill the air well into the new day after the eclipse was spent in nothing but war and bloodshed. Ronal could still smell it all in her nose, making her stomach churn but she stomped down her disgust and continued her duties as tsahik. While the Sully family sat around their dead son and brother, quiet and in shock, too tired to move from their spots on the rock surface, she tended to any of their treatable wounds. For the most part, Toruk Makto was the worst out of all of them, with several cuts and bruises littered across his face and body, likely sporting broken ribs on top of that. He insisted on waiting for Ronal to heal him, however, in exchange for his daughter and his sister to be treated before him.
Young Kiri had knife marks on her neck and when Ronal provided a salve, the young girl reverted to her own healing knowledge as a tsakaremand treated the wound herself without saying a word. Meanwhile, Makayla was sporting matching knife wounds on her neck, a bruised tswin, as well as a cut-up, twisted ankle. Ronal took her time treating the female avatar, using long, leisurely strokes of her fingers along Kayla's throat, spreading the salve across the thin slice. She did her best to be gentle around Kayla's queue braid, prodding gently around the base at the back of her skull. Kayla never spoke a word, shivering under Ronal's touch and simply nodding her head in gratitude once the tsahik finally wrapped her foot up. Ronal nods her head in return and moves away to treat Jakesully.
He had placed himself beside his sister while Ronal tended to her, and when it was his turn to be inspected for injuries, he took the time to explain to Kayla everything that happened and filled her in on moments she missed during the fight. Ronal wasn't fluent in the Sky People's language, but she caught a name called 'Quaritch' falling from Toruk Makto's mouth, and the word 'dead' followed it.
"He's gone," Jake told Kayla grimly, "I made sure of it."
"Alright," his sister croaked quietly, her voice shot from all the screaming and crying she had done throughout the whole battle. She didn't say anything else.
Meanwhile, Kiri and Lo'ak were gathered around Spider, listening to him as the human boy told his friends what had happened to him after Quaritch captured him. It was clear that he was leaving some parts out and simplifying certain moments, but neither of the Sully siblings questioned it, knowing that it had been a long, trying day and everyone was exhausted. Kiri and Lo'ak will eventually want to learn every little thing that happened to their friend but today was not one of those days. Those kids had been through enough as of late.
Spider informed Jake and Kayla of the more important details of his escapades, mentioning one of his masks had a tracker in it, but he wasn't sure if the exo-pack that had been thrown to him while abandoning the sinking ship had one as well. Jake and Kayla exchange a silent look between siblings and already, they were making plans for any upcoming battles, reverting to their old, military ways and as children of war.
Once Ronal appeared satisfied with everyone's wounds, she carefully stood up and returned to Tonowari and their children, who had stood off to the side to give the Sullys their respective space, "I have done all that I can from here, but I will need to tend to the rest of our people, and preferably from the healing huts where I have all of my supplies."
Tonowari nods in agreement before turning his eyes to Jake, who meets his gaze as the chief gently speaks, "We must return to the village to tend to our wounded and mourn our losses."
Jake gives Tonowari a solemn nod, two fathers who were exhausted both physically and mentally, drained from what they endured trying to protect their families. With very few words, Tonowari gathered his wife and children to follow him back into the water, but not without some tear-filled expressions as Tsireya and Ao'nung were hesitant to leave their friends in their sorrow. Rotxo appeared to be their voice of reason until finally, the three reef children dove back into the ocean to summon their ilu.
Toruk Makto watches the olo'eyktan and his family leave before turning to his own wife and children, "We should head back, too. Let's go, everyone."
Neytiri merely nods, her silence holding a heavy chill throughout the whole family. Her eyes stared off into the distance, far away from her mind while still holding onto Neteyam with all the strength she still had left. It was only after Jake bent down to pick up their son's body that she was able to shakily stand herself, letting go of Neteyam's cold hand in exchange for Tuk's warm, little one.
Kiri and Lo'ak stood once their mother did so, the latter of the two beckoning their human friend to follow them, "Come on, Spider."
Spider nods and dutifully stands, only to freeze right in his tracks when Neytiri's yellow eyes flick onto him. The entire family froze alongside him, watching Neytiri with caution as if the scene where she held a knife to Spider was still fresh in the back of their minds. Only Lo'ak seemed to be confused, looking around at his family after they had all appeared to turn to stone the moment Spider moved. Spider visibly stopped breathing, a small wave of fear returning when those same eyes he had witnessed become unhinged and animalistic continued to size him up. Neytiri didn't appear as threatening as before, however, now more defeated than enraged in the heat of battle and after the loss of her child. Before, she looked at Spider as a means of killing Quaritch's spirit in exchange for Neteyam's death and Kiri's freedom. Now, she looked at the human boy as if he was a dead pest left in front of her marui.
When Neytiri finally spoke, her voice was no better than Kayla's, hoarse and broken, but still capable of stabbing Spider in the chest like ice, "No. We cannot take him back to the village, or we risk giving away the Metkayina's home to the Sky People."
Lo'ak reared back at his mother's words, immediately defensive, "What are you talking about?"
"We can't just leave him here." Tuk whimpered.
"And we cannot bring him back to the village," Neytiri told her children firmly, still glaring down at Spider, "Or we risk him telling those demons where we are."
"Neytiri--"
Jake's word of warning is interrupted by none other than Spider, the teen's words falling out of his mouth before he could stop them, "Why would you believe I'd do that?"
The world stills and the Sullys are just as equally shocked by him speaking up against Neytiri of all people before he continued without much thought, hurt by her accusation after everything he's been through for her family, "What have I ever done to make you believe I would betray the Na'vi?"
Her yellow eyes simply narrowed, "You've been the demons' prisoner for so long. We don't know what you told them."
"I didn't tell them anything!" He shouts back, but not to be angry or feared. His shout was broken as if he was crying and begging. He was shouting to be heard, to be seen, "I never cracked!"
"Why were they flying ikran?" Neytiri argues back with nothing but more accusations, "Who showed them how?"
"I was buying time for someone to save me!"
"Why would we? You were finally with your own kind!" She shrieked, drawing Spider to pull away and full-body flinch.
"Mom, stop it!" Kiri cried out.
Jake tries reaching out for his wife, "Neytiri..."
Her own yelling had triggered the tears of anguish to return, Neytiri's eyes immediately spilling her grief once more as she looked back at her husband. Jake froze where he stood, feeling as though he was brought back in time as he stared at the same expression Neytiri bore when she first lost her father and Hometree all those years ago, forcing Jake to be reminded of his past mistakes, 
"These demons..." she shuddered in hatred and distress, "They learned our ways. They learned the will of Eywa, and yet they still hurt our Great Mother and our children. We can't teach them. They cannot be taught. It's like what my mother told you. It is hard to fill a cup that is already full."
The words were thrown back in his face, Neytiri might as well have slapped him. Jake looked down when he couldn't bear to look her in the eyes anymore, only to fall onto the sight of Neteyam's body nestled safely in his arms as if still an infant. The mental image only drove Jake into biting the inside of his cheek, fresh tears spilling out of his eyes but he refused to release a sound. His left ear twitches at the sound of someone stepping up beside him, his sister's voice coming to his defense.
"'They' are the people Jake and I were born into," Kayla finally spoke up, stepping forward with only a little bit of difficulty no thanks to her ankle. Her eyes were stone when looking directly at her sister-in-law, "You forget that, Neytiri. You forget where Jake and I come from."
"That is different," the Na'vi woman shook her head defiantly, "You've learned to love and respect our ways."
"And Spider has done nothing but love and respect your ways his whole life!" Kayla shouted back, causing all the children around her to flinch and lower their eyes. Neytiri turns to stone, solidifying her stance and refusing to back down. Kayla was huffing out pent-up anger and exhaustion, her voice like gravel as she gritted out, "I've easily killed more people today than Spider ever has in his lifetime. Why am I more deserving of your respect than he is?"
"Enough," all eyes -except for Kayla's- turn to Jake, his own voice broken and not strong enough to command as easily as he's used to. Jake cleared his throat to correct his voice before pointedly staring between Neytiri and Kayla, "You two, not now, please. Kayla... Kayla."
She finally looks away from Neytiri at the sound of her brother addressing her. Jake continued, "Spider was mentioning a tracker in one of the masks he was wearing. This one's different but it wouldn't hurt to be extra cautious. Do you have a spare?"
Kayla shrugs, looking away to continue carefully watching Neytiri while responding, "I might. But if we're really worried about the RDA tracking us down, I'll try to see what I can do to detect a tracker in his mask from here. You guys head back to the village without us. We'll catch up. Jake, you should probably radio High Camp when you get back and let them know what happened."
"You're not breaking your link tonight?"
"I don't want to... I'm needed here right now." When she peered back at Jake, he didn't look very soothed by her response, his eyes full of doubt, aging by the second and so she was quick to reassure him, "It's alright. I was there the other night. I'll just wait until things quiet down here."
The Sullys appear satisfied by her words and begin to move slowly, sluggish and heavy from today's events, their loss still weighing down their postures. Lo'ak and Kiri occasionally looked back at Spider as they departed as if they were worried this would be the last time they ever saw him. Neytiri was the last to break away with her family, her eyes also still wary of Kayla from their little stand-off before the Na'vi woman finally turned her back on the avatar and returned to her ikran. She only took flight until after Jake and the children sunk into the ocean, Jake's tsurak carrying Neteyam's body back to the village.
Once the Sullys had disappeared, all that was left was Kayla and Spider, along with the sounds of distant fire crackling and waves surrounding them. Kayla's ikran squawks irritably, breaking Kayla's trance. The avatar turns to look down at Spider, inspecting him quietly before beckoning him to follow her, "Come with me, kid."
He silently does so, now more exhausted and suspicious than before, guarded as they both walk over to Thena. Spider's eyes briefly light up with that familiar love of Pandora he always openly shared, amazed by Kayla's ikran and impressed with how much the avatar had managed to accomplish in his absence, "She's awesome."
"I wouldn't go telling her that," Kayla snorts while patting Thena's snout and ducking under her neck. Kayla rifles through the pouches she had sewn onto her ikran's saddle until she found what she was looking for, revealing small human tools she had packed for her long journey across the ocean. She was nothing if not careful, and her preparedness was proven useful in this instance.
Spider noticed the tools in her hand and peered up at her skeptically, "You don't have a spare mask, do you?"
"No. But I have tools. I'll try to remove the tracker if there is one."
"Why didn't you just tell Jake you didn't have a spare pack?"
She shrugged nonchalantly, "I thought you needed a break from the interrogation."
He paused, unprepared for that answer. Exuding a look that expressed he felt a little bashful and appreciative, he flashed a small smile before it quickly vanished and he glanced down at his feet while muttering, "Thanks."
"You bet."
Kayla had Spider sit down while she knelt behind him, inspecting his mask and poking and prodding to make sure he'll still be able to breathe while she worked. They sat in silence, the stench of smoke still prominent in Kayla's nose, but she felt relieved to know that Spider wouldn't be able to smell the death and decay around them with a filter in his mask.
Spider fiddled with a pebble in his hands, longingly staring over the ocean while quietly admitting, "I don't wanna go back."
He felt Kayla's hands pause while inspecting his mask, but otherwise couldn't see her reaction as she sighed, "I know you don't. But the RDA knows where you are now."
"They know where I am in the mountains, too." He muttered.
"If there's a tracker in here, I'll disarm it, and you could go back to the mountains and Ardmore will be none the wiser. She'll still think you're here. You'll be safe from all of them... for a little while at least."
"Why does it matter if I go or stay?" Spider questions with a slight jeer, tired from adults continuously telling him they know better than him. He points out the obvious, "They want you and Jake. This place is as much a target as home is."
"Which is why being far from us might be what's best for you. Besides, Ardmore doesn't have the manpower to track us down at the moment. All her Recoms are dead. She won't have any avatars on her side any time soon."
Spider's spine stiffens, his blood running cold. If Kayla had noticed his uncharacteristic silence, she didn't mention it or just coughed it up to the amount of stress and trauma the teen had just gone through. They reverted to silence once more while Kayla worked, and eventually, once she announced that there wasn't any tracker, she almost missed what Spider was saying as the wind began to pick up,
"One. She still has one..."
Kayla's hands pause again and pull away, leaving Spider cold, "Who?"
"Quaritch." His voice caught in his throat and he had to cough, hiding the shame in his hand.
When he bravely turned to see Kayla's reaction, she bore a look of disbelief while looking out in the distance, "But Jake said he--"
Spider shakes his head, "He didn't drown."
He didn't need to elaborate. As the silence lingered, Kayla fit all of the puzzle pieces in her head and figured it out herself. Spider noticed the dawning of realization on her face and panicked over the idea of her leaving him here on this rock, stranded. He immediately began to ramble as the fear of being abandoned took over him, "I'm sorry. I saw him and-- I couldn't leave him. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry..."
"Spider. Look at me."
When he does so, albeit terrified by her tone of voice, all he sees is determination instead of doubt or disgust. She waited until the kid was looking directly at her before she leveled him with a stern look, "No one can know. Alright? Don't tell anyone else about this. Promise me that this stays between us. I mean it. If anyone else found out, they would definitely send you away, or worse, do you understand?"
He quickly nods, trying to remember to breathe through his panic, but the relief that flowed through him was quickly replaced with dread. The shock wore off and he suddenly realized Kayla was willing to protect him and his secret. His chest squeezed painfully at the thought of the kind of consequences she could go through for something like that.
"Are you mad?"
She took a moment to collect her thoughts before exhaling a deep sigh through her nose and shaking her head, "No. I get it, kid. He's your dad. And... and you gave him something he's never given anyone. Mercy. I hope he doesn't forget that."
Spider's whole form began to shake and when Kayla initially thought he was cold, she looked closer only to realize he was fighting back tears behind his mask, likely shaking from adrenaline and holding back sobs. He lowered his head to hide his face as he whispered, "Please don't let them send me away."
Pity for this child came in full force as Kayla struggled to find the right words. Her thoughts were racing with a war of their own, conflicted about what she should do. The thought of keeping a secret from Jake and his family made her stomach turn uncomfortably, but another part of her knew, deep down, that it was the only solution. Kayla had watched Jake and Neytiri do unspeakable things for the sake of their children, and today alone Neytiri proved she wasn't above harming a child if she thought it would protect her family. As for Jake... Kayla wasn't entirely sure what her brother was capable of anymore, and in her mind, that made him dangerous. She couldn't trust anyone dangerous around Spider if they knew the truth about Quaritch. Besides, it's not like her suspicion of her brother was unwarranted. After all, he wasn't above abandoning Spider when he needed help the most.
"... Alright. I'll try," she decides to quickly change the subject before another word or any regret could be said about her decision, "So do you have any idea how they found us?"
Spider fixed her a small look of doubt before slowly answering, "They only found out where you were when a rogue gunship was spotted coming this way."
Kayla hissed through her teeth, wincing at hers and Norm's stupidity, "Shit."
"But they don't know where the village is exactly-- only that you're among the many islands around in the area," Spider reassured her before curiosity took over, "Why did you guys bring a gunship out here?"
Kayla rolled her lips before answering, "Jake radioed in and begged us to come and find them because Kiri needed medical attention," the moment she saw a shift of concern begin to grow on Spider's face, she held a hand up to stop him before he could ask, "It's okay. She's fine now."
Spider relaxed, replaying Kayla's story before confusion took over, "So wait, you weren't with them the whole time?"
Kayla stiffened, "No. Jake thought it'd be best if I stayed behind."
Deciding not to explain any further, Kayla points down to the cut on his chest, "Let's tend to that. We don't want it to get infected."
At the reminder of the wound, Spider's expression darkens and he simply nods. Kayla grabbed her small trauma kit from one of Thena's pouches and knelt down in front of the human teen this time, inspecting the cut before getting to work. It was superficial, not very deep, just long and thin. Nevertheless, Kayla remembers Neytiri using that same knife to draw blood countless times before using it on Spider... and the avatar woman didn't even want to think about whatever disease or infection Spider would have to suffer on top of the trauma Neytiri likely gave him if it wasn't properly cleaned and dressed. Kayla hadn't missed the way Ronal purposely avoided Spider when going around and healing whoever she could. She only hoped that Spider hadn't noticed... or worse, he did notice but just felt resigned to the usual neglect and mistreatment.
Kayla couldn't imagine what must be going on through Spider's head right now. Having someone's knife to your throat and still begging for Kiri's life instead of your own? Kayla had to wonder if Spider ever had someone who would put him above life itself like that.
"Do you wanna talk about it?"
He winced, "No."
"Okay," she immediately shuts down whatever she was going to originally say, "But just so you know, she'll never do that again. I'll make sure of it."
He didn't look as though he believed her, shrugging it off with a small, hesitant smile, "Yeah, okay... It's good to see you, Kayla."
She smiled back, although not as wide or as relieved as she had liked to feel, but no one could blame her after everything she's been through today, "You, too, kiddo. I'm glad you're safe."
Once she's satisfied with how the bandage around Spider's chest will hold, she helps him up onto Thena and forms tsaheylu, hiking herself up onto the ikran's back before taking off to the skies. The fly felt shorter than it initially felt when she first flew out with the Metkayina to fight the Sky People and save the children. Once the village was in sight, Spider's jaw had opened in awe of its beauty, eyes sparkling in wonder. As Kayla descends lower to the ground, she sees the number of Metkayina who had come out to fight. The numbers have dwindled, but for the most part, they were whole and hovered close to the healing huts. Kayla noticed some heads turn up at her arrival but otherwise did nothing. They were either used to the ikrans' presence, or they were too tired to care after such a long battle.
The only time the Metkayina appeared concerned was when Kayla landed Thena on the beach, where all eyes could clearly see the small demon child riding with her. Waves of gasps and whispers can be heard, a crowd slowly beginning to gather but Kayla pointedly doesn't wait or stand around, steering Spider toward the direction of the Sully marui right away to not make the teenager a village spectacle. Spider looked around the village as they walked, but didn't really get a good look at everything with how urgent Kayla was leading him away, despite the pain in her ankle.
But the Metkayina had already gotten a good look at him, and the hushed whispers were already spreading around until they got to their olo'eyktan. Tonowari and Ronal were conversing outside the healing huts when word got to them about a human child among their ranks. When they peered up to see the commotion, they briefly saw a glimpse of the demon boy's blond hair, followed by Kayla, a towering pillar of protection as she quickly led him through the maze of pathways winding through the village, mothers quickly pulling away their children if the demon boy walked too close. It was a curious sight to see someone so small being shielded by another Na'vi so large. Ronal hissed at the sight of Kayla putting weight on her injured ankle but otherwise said nothing.
Tonowari's expression shrivels up to one of concern before promptly turning back to his mate, "Do you remember when I told you Makayla te Suli considers the demon boy her responsibility?"
~~~~~~~~~
When the avatar and teenager got to the edge of the pods, looking out over the lagoon, Spider noticed Jake and Lo'ak sitting outside a marui that must be the Sullys' new home. Toruk Makto looked up once Kayla and the boy drew closer and quickly stood to greet them, Lo'ak quickly following to do the same. The Forest boy beelined for Spider, firmly grasping his friend's shoulder and gently shoving him toward the pod.
"Come on, bro. Kiri's got some food started for you."
Spider follows inside without a word, glancing back at Kayla from over his shoulder before disappearing. Kayla remained outside once Jake made it clear he needed to talk to her.
"I radioed Norm." He explains.
"And?"
"I told him what he needed to know. I..." Jake swallowed and folded his arms, finding it difficult to speak when his throat began to close up, "I couldn't tell him all of it. 'Couldn't tell him about Neteyam. I..."
He was struggling for words without getting all choked up or shutting down. Kayla immediately takes over the talking, placing a hand on her brother's arm, "Jake... it's okay."
He peered up and she offered him a small, sad smile, "You did good. I'll let High Camp know when I eventually have to go back. Or Mo'at will tell everyone. I mean, she is the tsahik. Wouldn't she connect to the Tree of Souls and instantly know?"
He shook his head, "Not if she wasn't looking for something specific."
Kayla's nose scrunches before relaxing. She'll never get used to how Eywa functions at this rate, "Alright. Well, we'll just go with the flow and deal with it once it comes back around. Where's Neytiri?"
"With Neteyam. The Metkayina placed him in a healing hut so she and I could... could..." He cleared his throat, "So we can clean him up and prep for the burial tonight."
"Okay. You go," she whispers gently while tilting her head toward the marui, "I'll stay with the kids."
Jake's eyes were cloudy but grateful, "Thank you."
~~~~~~~~~
As day turned into night, the village began to grow quiet but not because the hour was late. To mourn and respect the loss of their loved ones, the Metkayina either sang the songcords of those who were slain in battle or opted into saying nothing at all. Soon the Na'vi will all leave their respective homes to gather together in a ceremonial send-off, ready to let the bodies of their loved ones return to the ocean and their Great Mother.
The Sullys were among those ready to send their loved one off. By the time Jake and Neytiri returned to their marui, Kayla had the children washed up and prepared for the ceremony. They all -except Spider- bore white face paint, brushed over their skin in a specific pattern to symbolize their loss. Neytiri and Jake also bore white paint, parts of which covered Jake's stitched-up and bruised face now that Ronal had the time to properly heal him. Neytiri bore the same white face paint but also added black around her eyes to signify her tears and grief as a mother, a white, veil-like material hung around her face from the top of her head. No one said anything, but they all noticed a familiar necklace that once belonged to Neteyam now wrapped around Neytiri's neck.
Before going out to join the village, Neytiri started the tradition of singing the deceased's songcord, her fingers counting each bead, and each milestone in Neteyam's short life, all expressed through her song. The lyrics, designed by Neytiri, described her son's life, from birth until recent events, moments that Neteyam deemed worthy to be remembered, recorded as history in his waytelem. 
Lie si oe neteyamur Nawma sa'nokur mìfa oeyä Atanti ngal molunge Mipa tìreyti, mipa 'itanti Lawnol a mì te'lan Lawnol a mì te'lan
Ngaru irayo seiyi ayoe Tonìri tìreyä Ngaru irayo seiyi ayoe Srrìri tìreyä Ma Eywa, ma Eywa 
The family clings to the song, willing themselves to remember it, before heading out into the village and retrieving Neteyam's body.
He was clean and wrapped to rest in the fetal position, eyes closed as if he was only sleeping. His braids were pulled back and tied into a hairband, a detail of Lo'ak's doing. The Sullys summon ilu and tie a floating leaf-made carrier behind Jake's as a means of transporting Neteyam. The Metkayina all follow the Sullys out to the Cove of the Ancestors, where they lay their dead to rest eternally at Eywa's breast, leaving Neteyam for last. Jake leads his family away from the other Na'vi, who all stay behind to witness the family return their son, brother, nephew, and friend back to the ocean and back to Eywa. Behind Neteyam's carrier was a trail of flower petals, floating on the ocean surface, creating a path of the young warrior's last journey. Once his family reaches the perfect spot to let Neteyam go, they all slip from their ilu and into the water, padding over to the leaf carrier and helping one another get Neteyam out.
Below the surface, toward the bottom of the cove, was a beautiful field of some sort of coral plant, gently moving back and forth against the current like it was wind, glowing like a golden field of grain under the water. Tuk and Lo'ak briefly touch Neteyam's face, one last time, tears still fresh in their eyes, before Neytiri and Jake take deep breaths and plunge underwater, bringing Neteyam down with them. The remaining Sullys and Spider stay on the surface but lower their heads into the water to watch Jake and Neytiri bury their son. Kiri and Spider held hands in comfort while Tuk reached for her aunt's. Kayla gladly holds onto Tuk's hand, gently squeezing it to reassure the child.
Jake and Neytiri dive deep, close enough to reach the fields of glowing coral before finally letting go of Neteyam. They start floating back up to the surface but never once let their eyes leave Neteyam's body as the coral slowly envelopes him, welcoming him with open arms that is Eywa. Lo'ak had to be one of the first to lean back up for air when he accidentally breathed underwater after letting out a mournful cry, and slowly, the rest of his family followed suit, swimming close to one another until all the Sullys huddled together, crying over their loss.
Before they headed back to the village, there was just one last thing Jake and Neytiri needed to do. They sunk back into the water and swam toward the Spirit Tree, intending on seeing Neteyam once more, alive, if only but a memory. Lo'ak and Tuk go with... And for obvious reasons, Spider and Kiri could not follow. The young Na'vi girl had told her dear friend what happened to her after he asked about the medical attention she needed prompting Norm, Max, and Kayla to come out to the ocean. Spider was sad to learn that Kiri was more like him now more than ever, unable to connect with Eywa but Kiri wouldn't listen to his pity. She had only shaken her head and reassured Spider that she would be fine... but this would be proven difficult after burying her brother. Spider felt the same, sad that he was unable to properly say goodbye to Neteyam. But they weren't alone.
Kayla opted to stay with the two teens, astride a separate ilu while Kiri shared hers with Spider. Kiri watched her family depart for the Spirit Tree with a heavy heart, grieving over the fact she couldn't say goodbye to her brother, let alone connect to Eywa, while Spider simply gripped her arm in comfort. When he briefly glances back at Kayla, he sees a woman whose gaze looks far away, distant from the present, not actually seeing anything. She only had one white stripe of face paint down her nose that she had Tuk do to distract the little girl from the events of the day, but otherwise wore the same thing she always wears, her red crop top and cargo shorts, now dirty from a long-winded battle. Given that it was a cool night, she could've worn a jacket... but the one she had packed was burned at the first chance she got, unable to fathom the idea of wearing something caked in her nephew's blood ever again.
Spider tilted his head toward the Spirit Tree, his mask hissing quietly as he breathed, "You should go say goodbye."
Kayla blinked and then returned to the present time, looking over where she had heard Spider's voice. If he had blinked, he would've missed the fast change in expression, her face suddenly morphing into something soft and kind. It was as if she had just placed a mask over her facial features, hiding whatever she was truly feeling behind it. Kiri hadn't noticed, but Spider did.
Kayla shakes her head, "There's time for that later. Come on. Let's wait for them back at home."
~~~~~~~~~
How long had Kayla been on Pandora? Months? Years? It certainly felt like it. If she had to guess, rounding it up, it would be close to two years now. Two years... and finally she understood why the Na'vi could dress so little and still be kept warm at night.
She had never been a part of those group sleeps the Na'vi were so fond of. Now she was nearly in the center of one. That night after all the horror the Sullys had gone through, a group huddle whilst they slept was inevitable, not wanting to let go of each other so soon after losing one.
Kayla was pressed up against Lo'ak's side, the young Na'vi boy curling his whole form into his mother's back as much as he possibly could. Neytiri was trapped between her son and her husband, Jake doing his very best to get his arms around his whole family even in his sleep. Tuk was sprawled over almost everyone like a blanket. She was spread over her parents and snuggling her cold nose around Lo'ak's head, near Kayla's ear. On the other side of Kayla was Kiri, who originally fell asleep and curled close to her aunt but has since moved, and then there was Spider. At first, he had gone to bed a few feet away, giving the family as much space as possible. That is, of course, until Kiri unconsciously turned around, pulled him into her space, and refused to let go. Apparently, Kiri is an aggressive snuggler. 
Kayla knew she couldn't move even if she wanted to, trapped by the teenagers on either side of her, and perhaps they had done so intentionally so she couldn't escape to her campsite. It wasn't a bad experience, but she usually needed to toss and turn before getting comfortable, and she was starting to get hot tucked within such a large pile of body heat.
There's a soft whimper of crying in her ear, and when Kayla turns her head, she notices Tuk, her face scrunched up in distress, but still deep in sleep. As the child squirmed and cried unconsciously, her parents also began to stir, and then finally, the other children as well. Once the rest of the Sullys were awake and moving, Kayla wasn't worried about waking anyone when she reached a hand out to touch Tuk's cheek in an attempt to wake her, "Tuk? It's alright, Tuk. Wake up."
Neytiri took the initiative and sat up straight to tend to her child, gathering the little girl up in her arms like she was still a baby. The movement was enough to finally wake Tuk and immediately, she began to openly cry once she recognized her surroundings. Kiri sat up once she heard her sister consciously crying and crawled over Kayla and Lo'ak to get to her, "What is wrong, Tuk?"
Neytiri shushes both of her daughters quietly, "Shh, shh, ma 'itetsyìp. It is alright. Mama is here."
Tuk furiously shook her head as she began to wail, louder and more distraught than before as she cried out, "I want Neteyam! I-- I want Neteyam--"
The whole marui tenses as they all wait for Neytiri's reaction. Understandably, she didn't react well. Neytiri's eyes immediately began to cloud and well up with tears, ears pinning back against her skull. Her pupils flick wildly about, no longer able to focus on the child in her arms. Her breaths were irregular, her mind visibly spiraling out of control. She looked like a cornered animal, trapped without any means of escape.
The first one to move was Kayla, sluggishly moving until she was crouching in front of Neytiri, gently prying poor Tuk out of her mother's arms and into her own. Neytiri breaks out of her trance for a moment, blinking once and taking in the sight of Tuk crying in Kayla's chest. She peers up and nods once in gratitude before swiftly standing and leaving the pod before her children can see another moment of her vulnerability.
Kayla continues to put on a brave face and quietly shush Tuk, gently rocking the little girl until her cries revert to soft hiccups and sniffles. No one else says a word and they try their best to go back to sleep, but the grief is heavy in the air along with worry for their wife and mother. Jake stays awake the whole time Kayla comforts his daughter, watching the entrance of his home with longing and concern. He forced himself to stomp down the urge to run after Neytiri when his role as a father took over. He shifted until he had his arms around Lo'ak and Kiri, whispering words of encouragement and trying to get them to go back to sleep as if they were still little. The teenagers didn't appear to mind being coddled, given the circumstances, and together, Lo'ak and Kiri gathered Spider and decided on sharing a nivi together, off to the side of the pod. Jake watches the teens crawl up into the large hammock together and fall asleep before resuming his post at the entrance of the marui, waiting for Neytiri while occasionally glancing back at Kayla and Tuk. Eventually, even Tuk managed to fall back asleep and Kayla carefully lifted her up and brought the little girl to the nivi to join her siblings. Tuk sleepily clings onto Spider and doesn't move for the rest of the night.
When Neytiri returned, she didn't look any better from when she initially left, her eyes bloodshot with drying tear tracks engraved into her face like the stripes that littered her body. It was chilling to see the mighty Neytiri, fierce and stronger than anyone in her clan, so shattered and forlorn. Jake stood and opened his mouth to soothe her, but she simply shook her head, her face speaking more than words could at that moment. There wasn't anything he or anyone could say that could comfort her right now. Jake read her meaning loud and clear and simply watched as his wife looked around for their children. She saw them all huddled together in their nivi, and she was too tired to comment on Spider being among them. And even if she wanted to, Kayla made sure to distract her long enough to forget about it.
The female avatar gently urged her sister-in-law to lie down and try to rest, and if she was shocked that Neytiri decided on using her leg as a pillow, Kayla didn't mention it. Instinctively, Kayla's fingers weave through Neytiri's braids to calm her as if she were comforting a child. Not wanting to wake her nieces and nephew, Kayla did her best to sing quietly, raspy, as best as she could so Neytiri could hear and understand her. The avatar decided on the lyrics to Neteyam's songcord, and even though it wasn't as practiced or accurate coming out of her voice, it still calmed Neytiri's aching heart.
Singing helped Kayla not to think about it. Instead, it helped her focus on the lyrics and the proper pronunciation. Her accent was still a little shaky and too formal at times, so as she tried to focus and perfect the lyrics, she didn't have to think about the meaning or the child behind the lines and how he had been taken too soon. She sang the whole song and repeated it a few times before she realized Neytiri had fallen asleep, albeit a bit restlessly.
Jake felt utterly helpless while listening to his sister sing to Neytiri, but didn't hesitate to express his gratitude once he noticed his mate had finally begun to rest, "Thank you." He whispered.
Kayla had been helping adjust the sleeping Neytiri until she was lying down on the nearest cot. She simply nodded in response to Jake before lying down further away from the rest of the family and turning her back so she was facing the wall of the marui. The air was significantly colder without any body heat to keep her warm, but she didn't dare move from where she lay. She wanted her much-needed space, where she could cry silently by herself and where no one could see or hear her. She desperately wished she had slept in her own hammock on the outskirts of the village, but she didn't want to leave anyone in her brother's family alone with their thoughts... and a guilty part of her admits that she couldn't afford to leave Spider anywhere near her sister-in-law at this time.
Listening until she was positive that Jake had laid down beside Neytiri for the rest of the night, Kayla let the tears silently flow out of her eyes, biting her cheek to refrain from making any sounds that would give her away. She could feel her body begin to shake. Whether it was from the cold or her pent-up emotions, she wasn't sure. Either way, it would be a long, restless night for Makayla as she lay awake and listened to the sounds of her family around her.
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A/N: Can I respectfully ask people to stop flooding my dms and inbox with specific questions regarding the future of the fic? I already know how I want the fic to pan out, and if I answered your questions, it could be spoiling it 😇 You are more than welcome to ask questions regarding past decisions or anything regarding Kayla from her past, but from here on out-- I'm locking down ALL future-related questions! Thank you for understanding.
The second part of this chapter will be out soon! It was mostly written before I was forced to split the chapter in half, so stay tuned!
Check out AI Generated art of Kayla!
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