#man two of these women keep trying to kill the other's child | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thewalkingwillowtree · 3 months

Text

Safe Haven

Series Part Listing Found Here

Neteyam x Original Na'vi Female Character

Summery: Seeking refuge, Xilä and her father venture to the lands of the Omatikaya clan, in the hopes that the Toruk Makto would be generous in allowing them to stay. This is her story about not only finding her strength, but finding love.

Warning: This story contains smut, violence & abuse (please don't read if these topics will affect you)

Some characters have been aged up. Neteyam in particular is 24.

Xilä is my own creation.

Part 19 - Awa'atlu

Legs dangling from her perch, Xilä unseeingly stared out at the flowing mass of water before her. Thick tree roots canopied over the span of the pool and its perimeter- hiding the area from natural light. It made the vegetation littering around her glow even brighter in the dim forest.

Xilä was lost in thought, mulling over the words Jxo had just spilled. Processing.

“I’m not sorry I killed him,” he had said after telling her what he’d done.

Jxo killed T'shteyo.

Jxo killed T'shteyo!

“Do you hate me?” the elder asked, breaking her from her thoughts.

Xilä blinked, then, head snapping so fast to the man seated next to her, a firm, “No.” left her lips. “Never, Jxo. I could never hate you. I don’t- I’m not-” she heaved a breath, “I’m trying to wrap my head around it, is all. I- look, thank you for telling me… it’s just, I thought maybe he’d died some other way… or maybe even-”

Jxo nodded in understanding, he could tell she was trying not to spiral. So he backed off a bit to let her work out her thoughts.

It was a couple weeks after her and Neteyam’s housewarming and he’d been putting off telling her his side of what went down in Li’ona- or what he’d done specifically.

At first, Salveen didn’t think that he should- she thought it would mess with her healing process, but Jxo thought it felt wrong keeping it from her.

He glanced at his wife who was nervously wringing her fingers around as she sat quietly near them. When the silence became too stifling, she nudged him. “Go on,” she mouthed silently, signalling him to continue with a covert jerk of her chin towards their youngest.

“Xilä… when Neteyam first brought you to Sal and I, I vowed to protect you as if you were my own. And then you did- become one of mine. Doesn’t matter how quickly it all happened. Sal and D’avi have always been my world… and now you’re a part of it too. Permanently. You're my kid. Mine and Sal's, in every way that it matters. You look at me with the same eyes as my D’avi. You trust me, don’t you?”

“I do,” Xi replied, a bit choked up.

“Good. So, I’m telling you this in the hopes you won’t hate me for it, but also so I keep that trust you have in me. I may be an old man, darling, but I will always, always fight for you.”

Xi’s tears fell freely now. Head bowed she fell into Jxo’s arms, hoping her hug conveyed her love for him.

A pair of slim arms wrapped around the two of them and the sweet smell of the one and only Sal filled her senses.

When she eventually pulled away, Sal cooed and awed over her, mothering away as though she were a small child. Xilä didn’t care. She smiled and soaked up the affection, feeling loved and wanted.

“Mind if I join in?” a voice called out.

Three heads flicked up to find a beaming D’avi hiding in the shadows of a massive plant, and she was eagerly welcomed into the fold.

Their little family spent the remainder of the afternoon in good spirits. Laughter filled the forest as they swapped story after story.

And at one point when D’avi divulged into a rather overly dramatic and hilarious tale of when Jxo threatened the first boy to ever show an interest in her, the three women had him outnumbered while he tried to justify himself.

Later that night when Xilä crawled into bed, and into her husband’s open arms, she breathed him in deeply, face buried into the crook of his neck.

“How’d it go?” he murmured.

“Good… I’m guessing you already know, but he- Jxo told me… what he did.”

“Hm… How do you feel about it?”

“I feel… maybe relieved?” She wiggled out from her hiding place and perched her chin on his chest, finding his gaze already on her. “There was always this really small part of me that thought he escaped Kayoanaska… I knew he’d be dead, but… I’d have always wondered whether- well doesn’t matter anymore, but there’s closure now, you know?”

Neteyam brushed her cheek with his thumb, tracing over the faint scar left there- forever a reminder.

“I get it. Did he also tell you I was going to do it at first? That I wanted to?”

She nodded.

“I was so mad, so angry. We both felt like we’d failed you… I’m not sorry about it either, I don’t ever think I will be.”

Xi’s lip quirked up a fraction. “That’s exactly what Jxo said. I’m a damn lucky girl to have you two in my life.”

A soft smile graced his lips and in one fluid motion he lifted her higher up the length of his frame to hug her close. “I think we’re the lucky ones, sweetheart. You have no idea.”

Four months later…

“Baby?!” Neteyam called out when he’d gotten home that night, wooden chimes clanking together when he pushed aside the flap of their tent.

“In here!”

Neteyam looked around at their somewhat untidy mainroom. It was clean, but he couldn’t help smirk at the scattered toys, strewn cushions and a very impressive looking blanket fort.

In hanging up his riding-satchel his feet tripped over an overstuffed pack- it was one of the many they’d be taking with them on their trip.

“Was Tuk over today?!” he asked out loud, making his way to their room, accidently stepping on a little wooden figurine with an, “ow, shit,” under his breath.

“Yeah, she and the twins spent the day with me and we- ! Oh hi,” she ended in a blushing whisper when she caught sight of him staring at her from their bedroom entryway.

“Hi…Well don’t you look all cute and comfy,” he mused, taking in his wife’s relaxed position.

Xi was cozied up in their bed while she sewed, propped up against a mass of cushions. A bowl of a variety of fruit sat beside her and soft music played from his personal tablet.

She grinned, stretching her neck up to meet him halfway when he made his way to her side of their hammock and leaned over to peck her lips. “Hi, handsome.”

“Mmm, hi baby,” he hummed, cupping her nape to deepen their kiss before standing tall again. “Did Tuk not have school today?” he wondered as he moved around their room, removing and putting away his articles- jewelry, arm and leg braces, visor, warrior belt.

“She took a sick day,” Xi shrugged, “One day won’t hurt anyone. And today was my day off anyway, so she, me and the twins had a blast. You just missed her. Kiri picked her up.”

“Oh.”

Chewing on a piece of fruit, Xilä stared unabashedly as her husband began to remove his loincloth.

“Three kids, huh? I wonder what that's like?” he half joked, flinging his loincloth into their hamper before starting to splash water on his mud and grime speckled skin from a filled basin in the corner of the room.

Xi tossed a seed at him, hitting square on his left butt cheek which only made him laugh harder.

“Spider came around for lunch too,” she commented, turning back to the cloak she’d abandoned in her lap.

“Is he still sulking?”

“No- well… maybe a little. I think your dad letting him come on the trip is a good thing though. I know he misses Lo’ak. It’s been months.”

“Mhm. Oh yeah and I’m sure he’s also all too eager to cozy up all over my sister on the journey too, right?”

Xilä tossed another seed at her husband. “Be nice. He’s been having a hard time, okay? Kiri’s been getting a lot of attention lately and he’s… adjusting.”

Neteyam grumbled. “Oh don’t remind me. Tasam’s not as slick as he thinks he is either. What exactly is the dynamic there?” he asked, pausing his washing up to fix a frown at his mate.

“Kiri is your sister, handsome. Do you really want me to tell you about the details her love life?”

“Love. Life?!” he exclaimed in horror. “You know what, no. I think I’m good. In any case this is all your sister’s fault.”

Xilä chuckled but didn’t deny the accusation.

Humming softly to the beat of a familiar tune, she made another loop, stab and pull- just the way Sal had taught her, making sure the stitch was as perfect as possible before doing it all over again. She was putting the final touches on a riding cloak that she was excited to wear on their travels.

When Neteyam finished drying off, he prowled towards her in all his naked glory and snaked between her blanket covered thighs.

“How was your day?” she asked softly, one hand abandoning her project to gently stoke up the length of his ear with her thumb. He shivered, just the way she knew he would.

Neteyam released a frustrated groan at the reminder of his day’s events while burrowing his face into the space between her breasts, arms tightening around her waist.

She hissed quietly under her breath at the slight ache and tenderness of her chest but left him in his position.

“Busy. We had a hunt, and lots of last minute arrangements to make before we set off tomorrow,” he sighed, “amongst other things.”

“You sound upset, handsome. Do you want to talk about it?”

Xi moved her sewing and fruit bowl to the side so that she could stroke his hair, palms soothing along the smooth skin of his shoulders and back over and over.

Only after a few long minutes did Neteyam begin his rant.

“A few from the council are back on their bullshit. I had to sit through hours of fuckery today. I swear my dad needs to pull rank and get rid of Fe’ska and her minions. They’re so stuck in their ways and refuse to see the bigger picture! I’m telling you, baby, if I were Olo'eyktan, they’d be gone already.”

“What happened?”

He laid his cheek against her chest, allowing her heartbeat to lull him into calm before continuing.

“They were fighting some of the changes dad’s trying to put in place.”

“What? Which ones?”

“The clan outreach program. They’re fighting our ideas for the sharing of resources, the cross training, the communication set ups. All of a sudden they are questioning years of planning, and right before we set off?”

“Didn’t they agree to it all already, months ago? What changed?”

Neteyam groaned again, the sound vibrating through her body like a rippling wave.

“Who knows? It could be spiteful for all I know. I wouldn’t be surprised if Fe’ska’s just trying to sabotage the entire operation. Eywa knows the woman can hold a grudge. It’s all settled now, but not after a shit ton of back and forth. After the crap they tried to pull with me and Leati, I’m done defending them and following their ways blindly. I put my foot down today and I think they finally realized I’m no longer going to roll over and do their bidding whenever.”

A burst of pride filled Xilä’s chest as she listened to her husband and a happy noise escaped her.

“What, baby?”

“Nothing. I’m just listening to you talk and I have to tell you, I’m so proud of you, ‘Teyam. So very proud of how much you’ve grown.”

Her mate peered up at her with a tiny smile playing at his lips, tail gone lazy and laxed from its tense curl. “Well thank you, sweetheart.”

But then his expression turned from sweet and sincere into devious mirth. “I’m curious though. Just how proud are you?”

From his smile and unspoken intent, Xilä’s cheeks flushed and her nipples pebbled, arousal hitting her far more intense than she was used to.

Playing along, she bit her lip and stroked up the length of both his ears this time- body twitching in response to his shiver. “Maybe I should just prove it to you.”

Neteyam raised up on his palms to hover over her, lips brushing against her own. “What are you waiting for then?” he taunted. “Prove it.”

Grabbing his face in both hands, Xilä fused their lips together. Her kiss was demanding and determined to prove her point.

But just as quickly as she started, he was soon taking over control- kissing her in a way that made her weak.

Impatient, Neteyam pulled away the blanket dividing them, fingers greedily inching their way up the back of her thigh and under her skirt to squeeze at her butt.

Xilä mewled as he mouthed down the length of her throat, fangs and tongue leaving a blazing trail of heat.

“Oh sh- ah!” she gasped when he sharply nipped her collarbone.

In a flash, her top was untied and being torn off and then Neteyam was diving downward, lips parting with the intention of closing around a needy nipple.

He didn’t make it though.

Snapping backwards, his head tilted ever so slightly as his brows creased in confusion.

Was it his imagination or did her tits seem a little… different?

Were they fuller?

It was almost, almost unnoticeable, but the thing was… Neteyam had worshipped and memorized every inch of his wife’s body by now, so, of course he’d notice…

“What? Why’d you st-?” Xilä looked down at her own breasts then back at him. She rolled her eyes in amusement, misunderstanding his staring, thinking he was just savoring the image of them.

Feeling bold, she took advantage of his distracted state and at pushed at his chest until she was the one on top, straddling his lap.

“Nuh uh, you lost your chance. No touching,” she whispered against his lips, moving away the hands that automatically reached to grip her hips.

“Yes, touching,” he all but growled, sinking his fingers into her skin.

“No. Touching,” she ordered firmly, giving him a bruising kiss for good measure, breaking away to fix him with a look.

Neteyam frowned but obeyed anyway and then Xilä was kissing him again, only this time she was the one in control.

Hands on his cheeks, then creeping beneath his hair to grip his nape, she moved him to her liking- tongue punishing and dominant in a way she’d never been before.

Xi nipped the hinge of his jaw, sucked at the juncture of his neck and peppered tiny, almost featherlight kisses down his throat. And all the while, she ever so slowly rocked against the hard length pressed between her thighs.

Palms planted on his chest, she pushed him flat onto his back and grazed her fingertips purposely over his nipples. He shuddered and inhaled sharply from the action, so she did it again.

A sense of satisfaction filled her at the sight of him beneath her like this.

She felt powerful.

“Are you really not going to let me touch you?” he rasped, grumpily.

“Yep,” she replied in English, popping the P with a little giggle.

Flirtatiously biting her lip, she locked eyes with him whilst making slow, deliberate rolls of her hips, grinding down onto his bare shaft, making him grunt and buck up in response.

Neteyam raised onto his elbows, hips rocking in time with hers. She felt incredible, but he wanted- no, needed more.

“At least let me see you,” he begged.

Giving in, she lifted the bottom front of her skirt that was draped around them and tucked it into her waistband.

From his view, he could now see her clothed center working over his dick that laid flat on his abdomen. The thin fabric covering her was drenched, saturated in her slick and was now soaking him as she rotated between rocking back and forth and then rolling in tight, precise circles.

She paused and lifted up a little to pull the material to the side, allowing her to glide along him better with direct contact.

“Fuck.” Neteyam’s mouth watered. She was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen in his life. It was torment not being able to touch her.

“Mmm, you feel so good,” she sighed, eyes closing in bliss.

Xilä had them both moaning within seconds as her rhythm picked up speed, clit dragging right at the perfect angle.

“Baby-” he choked, jaw clenched and straining while he struggled not to burst.

Xi hissed when she cupped her breasts. Too pent up to make sense of the new sensation, she pinched and squeezed at sensitive mounds which caused her both mild discomfort and blinding pleasure.

“Oh shit, I’m coming!” Head thrown back and body gone taught, she reached her peak in a sweet symphony of melodic mewls and whines.

Neteyam groaned at the pretty smile she gave him when she shivered from an aftershock, still coming down from her high.

“Sweetheart, you’re killing me. Please let me touch you now. Please.”

Xi leaned over and pecked his lips. “Not just yet.”

He couldn’t help but squirm when she began moving downwards, sensually mouthing at his chest before venturing lower- her hair tickling him as she went. She was doing a damn swell job of pretending his dick wasn’t currently dragging along her skin, painting her with pre-cum.

Piercing silver eyes peered up at him as her tongue traced the lines of his abs. She swirled around his belly button painstakingly slow then mouthed lower and lower, before finally, finally planting a soft kiss right on the head of his seeping tip.

“Xilä!” His hips jumped on their own accord. He was painfully hard and her teasing ministrations weren’t helping one fucking bit. “Xilä-”

“No touching,” she said again, waiting patiently until he released her hair that he’d habitually fisted.

She smirked when his throat bobbed and nostrils flared, chest heaving from his deep breaths.

This was new for them. He was always the one in control and Xilä knew this must have been difficult for him. She on the other hand was ablaze in excitement.

Xi made herself comfortable between his thighs and swept her hair back. With another delicate kiss to him and tiny lick, she watched entranced as he twitched- the head of his dick angry and weeping in need.

Neteyam’s breathing came out in faster puffs and pants when she finally took him in her mouth, fingers barely completely squeezing around his base as she bobbed her head up and down. He was hot and heavy and delicious.

“Fuck! Fuck.” Neteyam surrendered. Elbows giving up and falling flat into their sheets, his head tipped back with a loud groan.

Xilä set a steady rhythm of licking, sucking and stroking- just the way he’d taught her. Neteyam was big, and no matter how much she relaxed her mouth and throat, she could never take all of him.

It never stopped her from trying though…

“Ngh! Shi- Fuck!” His moan sent a rippling vibration through her when she took him as deep as possible- breathing through her nose and holding him in her throat until her reflex kicked in.

Hollowing her cheeks, she released him with a messy pop, and still stroking, she watched him eagerly- watched the way his muscles tensed and tail coiled, watched the way his hips bucked and jaw hung open as he fisted their sheets and clenched his thighs- one arm flung over his closed eyes and furrowed brows.

She loved that he was so responsive- so vocal. It didn’t matter that her own body was begging to be touched- hot and aching and desperate for another release. Xilä was enjoying every minute of this.

“Where do you want to come?” she asked him, small fist still pumping his impressive length.

Thoughts scattered and hazy, he choked out an, “In you- inside you.”

She knew that would be his answer.

Releasing him, she crawled into his lap again, uncomfortably wet and throbbing between her thighs.

“Tsaheylu,” he urged.

Xi nodded and made the bond, sucking in air as the sensation washed over her. Every time.

“Xilä, if I’m not inside of you within the next three seconds I swear to Eywa I’m going to- gah! Shit!”

They moaned in unison when she sank down onto him- taking him by surprise when she took him all at once in one go, walls pulsing and clenching around him in a vice-like grip.

Stuffed full, she whimpered and, hand palming at the little bulge he always created in her stomach, she whined quietly as she adjusted.

“Baby?”

“I’m good,” she laughed through a wince. “Mmm, how many times are we going to do this before I remember that it keeps taking my breath away?”

He snickered, holding in a grunt while his eyes roamed over her. ‘Fucking gorgeous’ he thought. Her skirt fluttered around their thighs, hiding where they were joined, and he ached to tear it away.

“Sweetheart, you need to move,” he pleaded.

Xi nodded and then she was lifting up and dropping down again, using his abs for balance.

The build up she created had been so much by now that the pleasure was intense and all too consuming. Their room was filled with pants and gasps and sharp intakes of air as she moved.

It didn’t take long because the next thing he knew, he was coming. Hard. Groans and curses turned loud and maddening, he jerked beneath her- jaw clenching tightly as warmth erupted inside of her.

Xilä chased after him, fingers reaching down to strum her clit as her bouncing pace turned into a desperate grind. She collapsed over him the second she crested, teeth sinking into his bicep to muffle her scream as a powerful orgasm hit her in rolling waves.

Heavy breathing and shudders were the only sounds to be heard after that.

“Did I… was it good?” she asked as her body trembled and twitched in tiny jerks.

Neteyam snorted, snickering in between his own pants. “I’m fighting so damn hard to catch my breath after coming oh so fucking hard, and you my sweet wife, want to know if it… was good?”

Xilä hummed with a pleased smile, eyes closing in satisfying exhaustion.

“Can I touch you now?”

With a laugh muffled into his skin where she’d just bitten, she nodded. “Yes.”

One large hand instantly sank into her hair while the other gently dragged along her back. “That was- that was something else, baby. Fucking good…”

“But…?”

“But you’re in trouble, sweetheart. Big trouble.”

She grinned, already know that she was. “Yeah, I figured,” she yawned. “It was fun while it lasted. No spanking tonight though. I need to be able to fly Journey without wincing in pain.”

“Mmmm, you’re lucky we’re off to Awa'atlu tomorrow,” he teased, reaching down to fondle her ass.

“I’m excited,” she said for probably the hundredth time now. “I’ve never seen the ocean before.”

“You’ll love it. And well, we’ve been practicing your breathing and deep water diving, so you’ll be far better prepared than we were for our first time,” he murmured into her hair, fingers still idly playing with her braids.

“Hm, alright,” she said, blinking open her eyes. “Oh wow. I think I bit you too hard.” Xi frowned, fingertip tracing over the indentations of her teeth on his bicep. “Sorry.”

“I didn’t even notice.” He lifted his arm to see and barely blinked an eye at it.

Clanking sounds alerted them that someone was outside and Xi tensed.

“Are you expecting someone?”

“Crap, I forgot Si'dvol was dropping off my bow tonight.” Neteyam seriously did not want to move at all right now.

“Why does he have your bow?”

“The string was getting a bit loose. He’s the only one I trust with my bow anyway, so I asked him to do a full repair for me since we’ll be gone for so long. I got to move you, I’m sorry, baby.”

Xi whined unhappily from having to leave her comfortable sprawled position over his chest, but allowed herself to be manhandled out of it. She squirmed when his dick slipped out of her, instantly missing the stretch and fullness of him.

“Be right back,” he promised with a kiss to her jaw before rushing to snag on a loincloth.

Stretching out her limbs, Xi smiled to herself. She was blissfully happy and contentedly tired.

Neteyam’s poor tablet laid forgotten at the edge of their bed, so she mustered the strength to roll onto her stomach to reach for it and pressed the little play sign to resume whatever song it was last on.

Funny how she could somewhat use the device at last. She wanted to fling it away the first time Neteyam had tried teaching her to use it. She could never understand why all the strange symbols were so difficult to click.

Cheek resting on her folded forearms, she listened to the soft strumming sounds of the music, tail waving in time with the beat, while her eyes drooped.

By the time her mate returned to their bed, his hands were instantly back on her. “Why are these still on?” he grumbled, easing off her skirt and soaked undercloth from behind and flinging them across the room.

“Mmm.” Xi arched when his fingers found her center to quickly and carefully push back in any escaping droplets.

He was extra thorough lately, especially ever since their discussion and agreement to officially start a family together. Sure she had been careless with her tea before, but they’d been only actively trying for about a month now.

When he slumped down next to her, she cuddled into his side eagerly, nose finding its favourite place, squished under his jaw.

One arm supporting her head and the other flung across her waist, he tugged her flush against him. He was hard, and wanted her again, but when he heard her yawn for the third time, he backed out of initiating a second round.

“What are you looking forward to the most when we get to Awa’atlu?” she asked him.

“Seeing Lo’ak again. I missed the skxawng,” he chuckled. “And the sea. I can’t wait to go exploring again. What about you?”

“I’ve been thinking about this a lot actually. Your grandmother said that the Metkayina have a unique way of healing... Do you think their Tsahìk would teach me a few things if I asked?”

“I don’t see why not.”

“What is she like though?”

“Ronal? Mm, I think maybe Ronal’s much like my grandmother. Both are stern and no nonsense, but if you know my grandmother, you’d know she’s nothing but a big ole softy. You’ll be fine.”

“M’kay,” she mumbled sleepily.

Later that night as Xilä slept, Neteyam couldn’t help but stare at her, utterly mesmerized and devastatingly in love.

Shuffling downward he pushed aside the blanket he’d covered her with and pressed a kiss to her flat stomach, silently mouthing a prayer to Eywa.

He was very much looking forward to their future together as parents.

“You need to tighten that strap,” Neteyam ordered to the wrangler who was helping him ready Xilä’s ikran for their travels ahead, “and double knot the harness ties. They’re too slack, she can go sliding right off.”

He gained a “yes, sir” in response.

Neteyam checked over the secureness of the packs strapped to the ikran’s hide, pulling and tugging to make sure everything stayed in place before rounding to her front.

He patted her neck and tossed her a treat with a whispered, “Take good care of our girl out there, yeah?”

Journey purred when he scratched a spot under her jaw, nipping at his fingers as if asking for more treats.

A baby's shriek had him glancing over to where Xi was standing. She was surrounded by her family who had come to see her off- baby L’eo in her arms with a handful of her hair in his drooling mouth.

Sal was hugging her over and over again every few minutes and D’avi seemed to be talking a mile a minute, making Xi laugh while Yalnïk and Jxo hovered- the elder cradling a sleeping L’eya.

Jake approached his son with every intention of asking for a status report, but observing the way Neteyam’s brow crinkled in thought, he asked instead, “Everything alright, son?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah. Yeah, everything’s…” Neteyam shut his mouth and shook his head. “Dad, can I ask you a personal question?”

“‘Course, kid.”

“When you and mom… uh,” he struggled to find the right words. “When did- crap,” he heaved a breath then spewed, “How long did it take to find out that mom was pregnant? I mean- like as in, how long did it take… for you guys?”

“Oh. Ohh.” Jake’s brows rose high up at the question. “Ah, well for the first time, maybe just a couple of weeks? We found out about you right after the battle against the RDA, so a surprise, but not long at all.”

Neteyam nodded, swallowing down his disappointment. “Right,” he cleared his throat, “thanks.”

“But for Tuk,” Jake added quickly, “we didn’t even know for sure until your mother started showing.”

He squeezed Neteyam’s shoulder, “Son, it’s different for every couple and each pregnancy of its own is unique. Sometimes- sometimes it can take a while to happen.”

“I know. I really do, I’m just-” Unable to help himself, he grinned, thoughts drifting to an image of his mate swollen and round with his baby- their baby.

Impatient. He was terribly excited and impatient.

Jake released an amused huff as if he could read his thoughts. “You’ll be a great father, Neteyam.”

His head flicked up in surprise at his dad. “You think so?”

“No. I know so, kid.” His head jerked to Xilä. “She knows it too.”

“Thanks, dad,” he replied, chest light and grateful. “Did you want to go over the final report now?”

Halfway through his update, both men were distracted by a sound. Kiri’s giggle had them glancing over to her, which was weird because well, Kiri never giggled- at least, not like that.

“Disgusting right?” Spider scowled, coming up beside them as they all stared at Kiri and her admirer.

“Mm. I don’t like it,” Jake frowned with folded arms.

“Me neither,” Neteyam rasped deeply. “Are they-”

“No,” Spider answered before he could ask. “But he’s always around now. Can’t you leash him? He’s your friend.”

“Always around? You mean this isn’t new? When did this shit start?” Jake demanded.

They all watched from a distance as Tasam placed a brightly coloured flower behind Kiri’s ear. She laughed at whatever it was he was telling her- his cheeks slightly tinged in blush that Neteyam would have never had expected to come from the mighty Tasam… a warrior he knew he would choose to be his second-in-command when the time came.

“BOYS!” Neytiri hissed as she passed, snapping them out of their glowering. “Enough with the glaring and the bitching. Leave her alone!”

“Xi, I’d owe you forever if you could bring me back a Metkayina castaway net. I’ve only ever heard stories of how incredible they are.”

“You want her to haul back an entire fishing net?” Jxo’s gruff voice asked incredulously. “Thing probably weighs more than she does.”

“Yeah but Jxo, it’s a Metkayina castaway net,” Yalnïk stressed- as if that made anymore sense.

Xilä laughed at their bickering while trying to gently ease L’eo’s fingers out from her hair. “I’ll see what I can do, ‘Nïk.”

“Are sure you’re up for the trip, darling?” Salveen asked Xi again after seeing her yawn for the umpteenth time that morning.

“Of course. Don’t mind me. I’m just really tired for some reason. I’ll be okay, mother,” she said without thinking- the name slipping from her lips and ending in a gasp when she registered what she’d said. “I- Sal-”

Xi had been calling Sal mother for a very long time now- to other people mostly and many times over in her head. But never actually out loud to Sal herself. The same to be said about Jxo.

“Darling…” Sal's eyes misted and her cheeks plumped in sheer happiness at finally being called mother. She wrapped up Xi in another hug, squeezing her tightly.

Baby L’eo released a shriek of glee from between them, little hands abandoning her hair to grab fistfuls of his grandmother’s beaded shawl instead.

“Wow, Xi, now she’s definitely going to be crying the entire time you’re gone,” D’avi teased, meeting her father’s eyes as they both shared a smile.

Xi’s goodbye with her family was bittersweet and filled mostly with the chatter and fussing of Sal and D’avi. Jxo did a good job of hiding his sadness, but she knew better.

“Xilä,” Mo’at’s aged voice called serenely.

“Be right back,” Xi told them, handing over little L’eo to his dad who tossed him up in the air then landed noisy kisses into the squealing baby’s cheeks.

“Tsahìk,” she greeted the elder when she made her way to her.

“Oh hush now. I keep telling you to call me grandmother. When will you listen, child?” she chided mildly. “Come, let me look at you.”

The Tsahìk fixed a few of Xi’s askew braids then grasped her hands into hers as she looked her over. “Hmm. Do you feel fine enough to go on the trip?”

Xilä laughed. “Perfectly fine. Why wouldn’t I be? Are you over-worrying like my mother seems to be doing?”

“Perhaps,” she mused. “Can’t an old woman just be worried about her granddaughter-in-law who she won’t be seeing until who knows how long?”

“I’ll miss you too, grandmother,” Xi teased. “Although it seems like you’ve been worried for weeks. I’m not complaining- honest… but I have noticed you hovering.”

“Bah! Fine, I admit that I have, and I have my reasoning- ah, ‘Teyam, perfect,” she greeted her grandson when he made his way to them, his lips finding and pressing against Xi’s temple. “Good that you’re here too.”

“Grandmother,” he acknowledged kindly. “It’s almost time for us to go,” he told them.

“I’ll be quick,” she said with a flick of her wrist. “Now listen, young man. You take good care of her, understood? No wild tricks and risky flying. No pushing daylight- if she needs to stop to rest, you stop. Xilä, don’t be afraid to tell him off, do not worry about stalling the others- no more people pleasing nonsense either. Remember our sessions, yes?”

Both Neteyam and Xilä nodded obediently, not daring to question the elder’s sudden out of character orders.

“Eywa,” she whispered, lips finally breaking into a smile as she observed them. “Well? Aren't you two going to hug me?” she snapped, making them both blow out breaths of amusement and wrap her up into a group embrace.

A loud horn alerted them that their fleet was assembled and ready.

It was time to go.

Their group’s travels to the Metkayina clan went far smoother than Neteyam expected. And after only two minor incidents- one where they had to hunker down due to an unexpected passing storm and the other when they encountered a wild flock of small but vicious flying beasts, they were still able to make it on time like his father had initially planned.

With the end finally in sight when Neteyam spotted a familiar cluster of islands in the distance, and when a wafting smell of salty seas hit him, nostalgia flooded his senses.

Looking back at their fleet, he took in all the faces in awe at the wondrous scenery before them. Xilä especially, gleamed.

A crowd of welcoming faces and gleeful hoots greeted them from the shorelines of Awa'atlu. Once they landed and dismounted from their ikrans, Neteyam flanked his father as they made their way towards the gathered Metkayina.

Xilä stuck close to him while nerves and excitement danced in her tummy, anxious eyes darting around shyly. She hugged her riding cloak around her more, feeling slightly out of place as a few people openly observed her- most likely probably wondering what she was doing with the Omaticaya.

Her mate who seemed to pick up on her emotions brushed her lightly on the back of her thigh with his tail, silently comforting her.

A towering man with a face tattoo approached Jake, face stoic as both men made respectful gestures to each other. I see you.

“Tonowari,” Jake acknowledged, tone light and friendly.

“My friend, Jakesully, it has been far too long,” Tonowari responded, his grin finally appearing to match Jake’s as they clasped arms together.

The massive man’s eyes spanned the rest of their company, head bowed in welcome.

Jake introduced their group quickly and Xi paid caution to make her proper respects to the clan leaders, feeling slightly unnerved as Ronal who was introduced as their Tsahìk eyed her in questioning interest.

Xilä stepped back with a few of the others who had accompanied them. There was Norm, Akrew who was one of Jake’s most trusted council members and five warriors. They all watched as Metkayina and Omatikaya friends reunited in hugs and laughter.

Lo’ak who she spotted right away was immediately tackled by an overly excited Tuk, Spider following right behind her, eager to greet his best friend.

Neytiri was embraced by an intimidating Ronal who then seemed to introduce a cute little boy who looked just like her.

Kiri greeted a pretty girl with large blue eyes and a dazzling smile. And even Neteyam had been approached by two men, one of whom had a startling resemblance to Tonowari.

“Xi, sweetheart,” Neteyam called, reaching out for her and pulling her back to his side.

Neteyam introduced her as his mate to Rotxo and the ever famous Aonung. Both men gawked at her momentarily before shooting Neteyam with impressed looks of “well done”.

“Well aren't you a lucky bastard, brother,” Aonung guffawed, eyes never leaving a flushing Xilä for a second. “What’s a gorgeous thing like you doing with a forest skxawng like him?” he joked, grinning wildly when Neteyam purposely glowered at him- side eye sharp and deadly.

“You should be careful, Aonung,” Xilä said sweetly, cheek cushioned into her mate’s pec, “My husband might just kick your ass- again,” she said, gaining a not so stifled snort from Rotxo while Aonung’s brows shot up in shock, evidently rendered mute.

Neteyam hid his amusement in her hair by pressing a chase kiss to it as he pulled her closer with a palm to the back of her neck, silently pleased.

“Well fuck me,” Aonung chuckled, observing the pair of them. “I do apologize, Xilä. Forgive me.” He squinted at Neteyam over the top of her head, “Did you really have to tell her that story, bro?”

When a couple others joined their circle to welcome Neteyam, Xilä eventually squirmed away from her mate and left him to continue catching up with his friends, then made her way over to Lo’ak.

Her brother-in-law greeted her warmly with a hug and an enthusiastic “XiXi!” She missed hearing the nickname, he was the only one who called her that after all.

“Soooo, where is she?” Xilä whispered excitedly as she scanned the mass of bodies gathered on the beach. “Is Tsireya the pretty one talking to Kiri over there?”

Lo’ak snagged her pointing finger away. “Sheesh Xi, chill out will you? Don’t-” Her sudden gasp interrupted his scolding.

“Is that a tattoo?!” Xilä shrieked, poking at his side with interest. “Lo’ak!”

“Ow- shit! Xi, it’s still fresh.”

“Sorry. It’s lovely, but what does it mean?”

“Pfft what?! It’s not lovely,” he complained, “it’s badass, Xi. Badass. Do you know what I had to do to earn this? There’s nothing lovely about it.”

A melodic giggle interrupted Lo’ak’s attempts of batting Xi’s hands away. Said pretty Na’vi Xi had previously pointed at, giggled again when they both straightened up like children caught being naughty. Lo’ak turning sheepish, melted at the sight of her- fingers reaching to tangle with hers.

“Hey,” he murmured to her.

Beam blinding, Xilä’s eyes bounced between them, excitement doubling over at their joint fingers. “Hi!”

“Hi!” who Xi assumed was Tsireya, said back.

Lo’ak snorted at their behaviour and then it was he who bridged the gap between the two females.

“Tsireya, this is Xilä, my favourite sister-in-law in the entire world,” he joked, making Xi roll her eyes fondly. “And Xi, this is… this my Tsireya,” he said with a soft smile which made the girl duck her head in a blush.

‘Awwwwwww,’ Xi mentally sang, or judging by Lo’ak’s whiny “Xiiiii” she may have cooed her awws out loud. They were so freaking cute together.

Tsireya and Xilä were an instant friendship in the making. Both girls launched into easy conversation as if they’d always known each other and Lo’ak eventually left them to their own devices to reunite with his parents.

“Why have you brought a pregnant woman with you?” Ronal’s strong voice suddenly called out. “Ikrans are known for their temperament. Did you honestly think it was wise to-”

“What pregnant woman?” Jake interrupted, panicked and suspicious eyes falling on his wife who instantly smacked his chest with a fierce glare at him for even thinking it was her.

All conversations lulled and wide eyes and confused frowns stared back at the intimidating looking Tsahìk.

Face flashing in understanding, Ronal shook her head quickly. “Forgive me. I seemed to have misspoken. Come. Come! A feast has been prepared in your honour, my friends. Tsireya, show them to their marui first.”

A perplexed Xilä shot a few nearby others a confused smile, shrugging in a way that conveyed, “I don’t know either, but that was weird.”

“Come with me,” Tsireya grinned, taking her hand to pull her along, “I’ll show you where you will be staying.”

The two weeks that followed for Xi were packed full of all sorts of exciting activities and events… and sex.

So many clan leaders and their company arrived after them, all equally welcomed by the Metkayina. There were representatives from Tipani, Anurai, Ta'unui, Sarentu and so many others that Xilä had never even heard of.

It was fascinating seeing their varying hues of blues and all the little or big differences in each clan’s physicalities. Even more so the sight of the mingling clans and cultures all clashed together.

There were feasts and celebrations, music, food and dance.

Xilä in particular spent the majority of her time with Tsireya, Kiri and Tuk.

She was still learning how to ride an ilu, making more and more progress with each lesson. It was more difficult than she expected, but she refused to give up.

The girls went exploring every day- venturing out to all of the must see hidden locations of Awa'atlu and Tsireya, ever patient with her, started teaching Xi simple signs for when they explored underwater.

Neteyam’s days were far more over scheduled than hers. They had after all come here for a reason and he had a big role to play. Xilä was so proud of him. She had even snuck in once to hear one of his speeches. He was his father’s right hand man during all meetings, paving the way for a better future for the generations to come.

If he wasn’t attending one of the many daily delegation meetings, he was keeping busy somehow. Her mate was adamant to pull his weight and help out wherever he could.

Neteyam, Jake and Lo’ak joined in on hunts, fished early almost every morning, and yet still, her mate managed to make time to take her on romantic strolls at night along the beach.

As for the sex… Well, Neteyam was a man on a mission- not that she was complaining. Their lovemaking- no, babymaking, was at an all new level. Neteyam was greedy when it came to their sex, taking her in all sorts of new positions they’d never tried before- places included.

One time he fucked her right in the sea against the pole of a wooden pier while whispering all sorts of things that made her blush as she bit down hard on her bottom lip to quell her moans.

He’d gotten even more bossy too- Making her do ridiculous things like stay in bed with her hips in the air after he’d come inside her, fingers forever ensuring she’d taking every last bit of his seed.

He kept her hydrated and banned her from drinking any of the spirits that was served during clan meals.

Truth be told, Xilä loved it all. She’d told him as much already before. Although she basked in his sweet and tenderness, she was downright obsessed with his bossy side, and Xilä felt as if she was constantly turned on lately- and again, she was not complaining.

Suffice to say she was enjoying every moment of their baby making journey. Who wouldn’t want to be woken up right on the cusp of a mind blowing orgasm every morning… and stuffed to the brim with come?

Awa'atlu was also a dream. It was the first time she understood the term vacation. Her only issue was the food. She couldn’t stand any of it. So far she’d been living off the provisions they’d packed with them for the journey over. But other than that, Xilä was perfectly happy.

The good momentarily came crashing down one evening however- when Neteyam came back badly injured.

“Xi.”

She said nothing, head bowed and focused.

“Xilä.”

Still nothing.

“You’re mad at me.” It was a statement, not a question.

Xilä’s head snapped up from the wound she was dressing. “Of course I’m mad, Neteyam!” she hissed under her breath. “You could have died! When did you get so stupid?”

They were both huddled and partly hidden in the corner of a busy marui, surrounded by other patients and busy healers.

“We were just having fun- being idiots. It didn’t look that dangerous at first, and anyway, Aonung said-” He shut up when she fixed him with a seething, piercing glare.

“Aonung said the wave was massive. It could have crushed you, Neteyam- killed you all! Rotxo’s shoulder is dislocated, Aonung’s tail looks mangled, he’s lucky it didn’t break completely. Lo’ak suffered a head injury that could have been far worse- even his ilu has an injured flipper and I just finished putting sixteen stitches into your side! You can’t do this to me, Neteyam- you can’t just-”

“Okay, okay, you’re right,” he soothed, cupping her cheek, guilt churning in his stomach at the sight of her distress- tears rapidly pooling in her eyes. “It was foolish of me. I’m sorry, baby. I won’t let it happen again. I promise.”

Xilä nodded with a sniffle, then promptly burst into tears, full body shaking as she quietly sobbed into her palms.

“Shit. Xilä, come here. I’m sorry.” Neteyam tugged her sideways into his lap and she went without complaint, one hand clutching his nape to keep him close. She was mildly embarrassed by the scene she may have been causing- but no one except one person paid them any mind.

Neteyam met his mother’s questioning and concerned eyes from across the room where she was crouched beside Lo’ak and Tsireya- both women looking like they’d been giving him the same lecture Xi had. He shrugged helplessly at his mom while he held Xi.

It had been a stupid alright.

He and the guys decided to let loose and go exploring in their free time. Only they went venturing too far out near a rocky patch of sea where the waters were rough and choppy. The waves grew higher with each passing minute, and all of them being stupid and reckless- they decided to continue on.

By the time the tide began to recede far too quickly, they knew they were in trouble. It was too late to turn back; there was no way they would be able to outrun a growing wave of that height and mass.

They were lucky to be alive and come out of it with minor damage.

However, they made things worse by coming back to the clan wielding their injuries and telling their tall tale of “almost dying” in a joking manner, which was not taken lightly by their families- especially their women.

Xilä was pissed at him. She’d taken one look at the gaping, bleeding wound on his side and dragged him right to the healers to patch him up herself, giving him the silent treatment the entire time.

“Xi, you’re breaking my heart. Please don’t cry.”

“Well you just about broke mine, you big dummy!” she quarreled while wiping at her cheeks. “I don’t even know why I’m crying this much,” she shuddered, “but I’m so mad at you. You came back to me, bleeding and hurt. Stupid you and your stupid brother and your stupid friends were laughing Neteyam- laughing over the fact that you all almost died!” she hissed quietly. “You can’t joke about things like that. Not to me.”

“I know. I know… I’m such a skxawng, right?”

“The biggest,” Xi agreed. She sat up and traced her fingers over his skin in worry. “Are you in pain?”

He shook his head, and kissed her wrinkled brow, her sniffling nose and pecked her lips. “No, baby. My wife is a badass healer. She patched me up real good.”

Xilä wanted to sob all over again. She also maybe needed a nap.

What was wrong with her today?

Stomach rolling and twisting, Xi wrinkled her nose at the sight of Spider and Lo’ak stuffing their faces with the seared fish that was delivered to them for breakfast. She had finally run out of her packed rations two days ago and had no choice but to indulge in the traditional Metkayina meals now… It was not going well.

She sniffed her portion for the third time then put it back down, unable to bear the smell. “Does it taste good to you?” she whispered to her mate who was eating his meal without issue. “It smells funny.”

“Does it?” Neteyam sniffed his own, then hers, and shook his head. “It’s good, babe. Fresh. The same as yesterday. Do you want to try mine instead?” he offered.

“Mm. No thanks.”

“Xi, you gonna eat that?” Spider asked, eyeing her abandoned meal.

“Oh, have at it!” she exclaimed eagerly, relieved to get it out of her sight.

“Not hungry, again, Xi? You need to eat, you didn’t have dinner last night,” Neteyam said gently.

“I know, but it’s the fish… and the clams and those ugly squiggly ones I could never pronounce- and pretty much everything here. It’s not agreeing with me,” she murmured back. “I miss yovo fruit,” she sighed, slouching into his side unaware that Neytiri was listening to them as she got to her feet. “Am I complaining too much? I feel like I am.”

“You’re fine, sweetheart but I’m a little worried about you now.”

“Here, Xi,” Neytri said, rejoining their family breakfast huddle. “It’s not freshly picked, but it’s the last of the provisions from our trip.”

Xilä gasped loudly, accepting the bowl of overly ripe, bruised yovo fruit like it was the most precious gift she’d ever gotten.

The entire family paused their eating and stared at her when she suddenly started to cry, smiling between her tears as she thanked Neytiri while hugging the bowl to her chest.

“Is she crying over the… half rotten fruit?” Spider asked not so quietly to an equally baffled Kiri.

“Maybe it’s her happy tears again,” Tuk chimed in- also not as quietly.

“Again?” Kiri asked.

“Yep. She cried when I gave her a pretty sea stone that I said looked like her eyes. She said they were happy tears,” Tuk shrugged.

Lo’ak frowned. “She cried when I kissed Tsireya in front of her two days ago… what’s with her?”

“Shut up,” Jake hissed at them quietly. “Eat,” he ordered, and they all instantly went back to their meals, all- and even Jake, failing to cover up their obvious glances at a still blubbering Xilä.

Neytiri smiled easily at Xilä- unperturbed by her tears, eyes crinkling as if she’d just confirmed some hidden secret.

“Baby, are you sure you’re okay?” Neteyam asked in concern, palm testing the temperature of her forehead and neck. “I don’t understand.”

“I’m fine, fine,” she huffed with an embarrassed laugh. “Please ignore me, you guys. I think I’m probably just a little homesick is all.”

When breakfast was over, they all went their separate ways. Neteyam fussed over her some more before eventually leaving her with a kiss and a murmured, “I love you,” while he cheekily and covertly squeezed her butt.

Around midday Xilä nerves suddenly kicked in when she got summoned to immediately meet with the clan’s Tsahìk.

Ronal’s healing tent was much like Mo’at’s, but all different at the same time. It was cozy and almost familiar- infused with medicinal aromas and heavily cluttered with hanging, dried pods and plants, little pots and baskets.

There were a couple mats rolled out and ready for incoming patients, a well worn work table filled with instruments and ingredients and in the far corner, a bubbling pot of some kind of medicinal concoction.

It also had an incredible view of a stretch of mauris, allowing them to see the doings of clan members going about their daily routines.

The Tsahìk greeted Xilä warmly, welcoming her with a platter of a variety of fish and clams- which she only picked at out of politeness.

They chatted and made pleasant small talk. Ronal asked her many questions about her life with the Omatikaya and Xilä was more than happy to sing their praises.

Halfway through her visit, Xi turned embarrassed when her stomach growled loudly, yet her meal remained untouched.

Ronal didn’t bat an eye however and Xilä was forever grateful when the older woman offered her fresh fruit instead. It was no yovo fruit, but it was delicious all the same and she inhaled it with gusto.

“I’ve been meaning to invite you to come by for some time now and make my apologies,” Ronal said, gaze unnerving- watching Xi carefully as if waiting for a reaction. “But you know how busy we’ve been with the current meetings.”

“Apologies?”

“Yes. I learned this odd saying from Lo’ak… What is it again? Ah yes- I almost spilled the beans.”

When Xilä blinked at her in confusion, Ronal continued, “In truth, I honestly had no idea your pregnancy was still a secret.”

Xi choked on her cup of some kind of brewed seaweed tea. “My what?”

“Your pregnancy… how is it coming along?”

Ronal’s lips cracked into a smile when Xilä gaped at her, mouth opening then closing- no words falling out. “Ah, so you did not know then?” she asked, pursing her lips when Xi remained silent. “Xilä… You are pregnant, my dear,” she revealed gently.

Xilä licked her lips, hand moving to hover over her flat stomach. Pregnant?

Meanwhile Ronal moved away their tea, then began plucking and fiddling with odd items and ingredients. “This is good news, I hope?” she asked, trying to gauge Xi’s reaction. “Will your mate be happy?”

“What?” Xi asked, blinking out of her initial shock. “Yes. No, yes it’s wonderful news,” she said quietly, a soft smile gracing her lips. “And no, Neteyam won’t just be happy, my mate will be ecstatic. It’s all he’s wanted for so long now.”

“Hmm, well that pleases me to hear. How long have you two been trying for?”

“We’ve- we’ve been trying for about over a month now,” she replied, unable to help her blush at the question.

“A month?” Ronal clicked her tongue. “Hmmm. We shall see then, yes?”

She hummed a melodic chant under her breath and lit a small bundle of dried leaves, waving the fragrant smoke towards Xilä’s stomach. Taking Xi’s hand she made a tiny prick with a needle and squeezed a drop of her blood into a cup of clear liquid.

Xilä stared entranced by the older woman’s actions, keeping quiet as she watched the clear liquid change colour while Ronal’s chants grew louder before quieting.

“Trying for a month you say…Bah! My dear, you seem to be around the end of your third month.”

“What?!” Shaking her head in disbelief, Xi racked her mind. “Three months… I’m three months pregnant?! Are you sure? Of course you’re sure. You are Tsahìk. I mean I know before we officially decided that I’d been careless with the tea but…Three months. Three months. How did I not know… how have I not known?! I’m a healer in training- I-”

“And these things can happen to anyone. Don’t be too harsh on yourself.”

“Ronal,” Xi glanced at her stomach. “I’m not showing though.”

“It happens. No disrespect, my child but you are quite small in stature as well… Xilä, every pregnancy is beautifully different in their own way. I myself didn’t start showing until my fourth month with my Tsireya. She was a very tiny baby.”

“Oh. Okay,” she whispered, feeling her panic ebb away. “You must think me such a fool. I feel like I’ve forgotten everything Mo’at taught me on the subject.”

“Of course I don’t think that. You’re having a perfectly normal reaction. Now… Have you been having symptoms?”

“Well, since you’ve mentioned it… tender breasts? They ache at the slightest touch lately and my tops are a bit too tight.” Flushing, she continued sheepishly, “I’ve indefinitely banned my husband from touching them,” she admitted, gaining a rare chuckle from Ronal.

“Any others?”

“Food. Fish particularly makes me a bit nauseous.” Ronal moved their seafood platter away at once, for which Xilä was grateful. “I’ve also done quite a bit of crying lately… especially over the smallest things and- By Eywa, all the signs were there, weren’t they?!” she cried, slapping a palm to her forehead. “I feel so stupid.”

“Don’t. It is all perfectly normal.” Ronal handed her a pouch containing the pods of a lilac, coral-like plant. “You can steep these in water to help with the nausea.”

“Thank you, Ronal… Wow. I can’t believe I’m going to be a mother,” she beamed, trying her hardest to keep her tears at bay without success.

“Congratulations, my dear.”

The rest of the visit went by quickly, and by the end Xi was more than comfortable to finally bring up the question she’d been dying to ask.

“Ronal, I know this is a usual ask, but was wondering if you could teach me a few things during my stay here- Tsahìk teachings in particular. Our ways are different, and I would love to learn from you.”

“You said you are a healing in training… are you also Tsakarem like my Tsireya?”

“Yes. Although my lessons have advanced, I know I have not even put a dent in all that I am to learn. I know it is a journey and it will take me years to connect with Eywa the way you and Mo’at do, years to get to your level. I am patient and willing to make that journey for my people. Especially so that I can be what Eywa needs me to be for them when the time comes.”

“You surprise me, Xilä Sully,” Ronal admitted, “Every time I think I’ve figured you out, I am mistaken again. Do not fret, it is a good thing,” she assured. “Very well. I will teach you what I can during your stay here.”

By the time the week ended, Xilä unfortunately still hadn't gotten the chance to tell Neteyam the good news. Her poor mate had been rendered completely exhausted lately- his busy days starting out with ridiculously early mornings and ending in too late nights.

On one breezy and calm evening, when the colours of the sky slowly turned from day into night, Xilä rocked in a woven basket-swing just outside their mauri while she worked on a new sewing project- a very special one at that.

Deep voices alerted her that her mate was finally home.

After a long day of plans and discussions with the other clan leaders, Neteyam and Jake made their way back to their mauris, steps in sync along the bouncing pathways of the Awa'atlu village.

“Night, Xi,” Jake both greeted and bid goodbye to her.

“Night, Jake,” she smiled, watching him part ways with his son who made his way towards her.

“Neteyam!” she squeaked, when in one fluid motion she was lifted and planted on his lap.

“Hi.”

“Hi- mmm,” she laughed into his kiss and squirmed when his hand squeezed around her inner thigh, making its home there like it usually liked to.

“You smell incredible,” he murmured into her mouth, pausing the kiss to duck and eagerly nose at her neck.

“Courtesy D’avi of course,” she hummed. “Tsireya said when you guys work out the trading system, she wants some of D’av’s scented concoctions delivered to her.”

“Well I’m sure that can be arranged. Actually, that’s exactly what we’ve been discussing for the past three days alone.”

“D’avi’s scented concoctions?” Xi teased.

Neteyam snorted and pinched her thigh. “Ha. Ha. Yes, that’s all we’ve been talking about. Which scents pair nicer for the day and then which ones suit the night,” he joked, making Xilä giggle.

“But no, the trading system is in the works. There was some back and forth on how to make it accessible for each clan but we finally worked out all the kinks today. Sarentu’s olo'eyktan had some great suggestions for how the bartering should go. I personally would have never thought to- Xi, you’re giving me that look again, and every time you do, it makes me want to take you to bed and make you scream my name.”

“I can’t help it, okay? It-” she looked away from him, cheeks inflamed as she mumbled, “it turns me on when you talk like that.”

Neteyam’s brows went high and then he smirked when it registered what she’d said. “Talk like what, baby?” he asked.

“Stop. Don’t tease me,” she sassed, poking him in the chest. “You know what I meant… When you get all serious and passionate about your work, it… does things to me, alright?”

“Alright.” He clicked his tongue. “Good to know, I’ll keep that in mind.”

Xi rolled her eyes playfully and leaned into him as he rocked them on the swing. They watched the last of the light fade on the horizon while listening to the many sounds around them- waves crashing in the distance, muted chatter of nearby people, ilus’ and ikrans’ cries.

“This is new. What are you working on now?” Neteyam asked, fingers playing with the material of the cloth in her lap. “Wait, is this a baby sling?” He lifted the fabric higher to see it better.

“Um, yes,” she replied, suddenly turning nervous.

“I like it. It's very cute, but it’s a little small for the twins though, don’t you think?”

“Mhm, yeah it is… but it’s okay, cause it’s not for them.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, not quite picking up on her meaning just yet.

Holding his gaze, Xi took the large hand resting on her thigh and brought it towards her middle, pressing until his warm palm was spread out and covering the span of stomach completely.

Gold eyes widening, he sucked in a breath of air. “Xi…”

“I’m pregnant, ‘Teyam,” she whispered, lips tugging upward at the corners, eyes shiny in happiness.

“You’re-” His voice cracked, so he cleared his throat with a little shake of his head. “You’re having a baby- you’re having our baby? My baby?”

“Mhmm, yes. You’re going to be a father, Neteyam. A daddy.”

Silence played out for a long minute as he stared where his hand was pressed- Xilä’s palm sitting over his.

A loud whoop escaped Neteyam, and then he was capturing Xilä’s lips with his- all messy and silly and eager because he was just so incredibly happy- so fucking ecstatic.

They laughed in between their kisses, hands cupping each other's tear stained cheeks as they whispered excitedly.

“I can’t believe it. Xilä, I’m so happy. Oh Eywa, I could just burst. Shit, your boobs,” he laughed, “I knew they looked different! And you never let me touch them anymore- how did I not figure it out sooner?”

“Isn’t that the question? I’ve been asking myself the same thing for the past two days and I-”

“Two days? You’ve known for two days?”

“Mmm, yeah. I’m sorry, handsome. I couldn’t find the right time to tell you. There’s something else though… I’m three months along, almost four.”

Neteyam’s jaw dropped. “You’re kidding… four months? Holy- wait how are you feeling, sweetheart? Are you okay? Have you been sick?” he asked, palm resting against her stomach in what Xi could only describe as lovingly possessive perhaps.

“I’m good, promise. But at least it now explains all the crying, and my aversion to fish. Seems our baby only wants fruit for now.”

“Our baby…” he repeated, eyes drawn to where his palm rested. “You’re having our baby. We’re going to be parents… I’m going to be a daddy.”

Xi wiped away his tears as he spluttered in giddiness.

“God, I’m so happy, Xi,” he kept saying.

“Me too- oh! No wait, where are you going?”

Neteyam had gotten up and gently placed her back down, a determined expression now gracing his face.

“To get you fruit. You’ve not been eating lately and our baby only wants fruit. So stay put, I’m going to get you some.”

Xilä may or may not have cried right there and then.

A baby!!!!!!! Gosh these two have come so far, I could cry lol.

Y'all, I am not versed in Na'vi pregnancy at all- no clue how it is for them. I took inspiration from real life circumstances for Xi. So shout out to my friend who cried for almost an hour straight when I surprised her at work with a birthday cupcake while she was preggo and had no clue that she was at the time. Lol.

Also, I feel like one chapter alone at Awa'atlu isn't enough, so there will be another one to come. We. Need. More Aonung and definitely more Lo'ak and his precious Tsireya!

If you have ideas, feel free to share.

Last but not least, special shout out and big thanks to my friend Tori who is a gem in my opinion. You're the best!

As always, please let me know what you think :)

Tags: @jakesullyfatjuicypeen @granddearduck @riatesullironalite @strawberri-blonde @earthling55 @innercreationflower @duckworthbean @gyuventure @btsiguess-kpop @blkmystery @neteswife @luvteyams @isnt-itstrange @erenjaegerwifee @faatxma @ivysully @bakugouswaif @pinkpantheris @mntx666 @ironcaptainnataliabarnes

If you'd like to be tagged or I forgot you by accident, please let me know.

#neteyam #neteyam x oc #neteyam avatar #neteyam fic #neteyam x reader #neteyam fanfiction #neteyam sully

149 notes · View notes

loliwrites · 3 months

Text

August: Nice Girls Don't Stay For Breakfast

part one of fountain of sorrow

⇢ pairing: javier peña x f!reader ⇢ rating: explicit, 18+, minors dni ⇢ chapter warnings/tags: set between s2 & s3, early/mid ‘90s, single mother!reader [child won’t play a massive role], canon compliant gun violence [starts with a snippet from s1e7], mention of canon compliant violence against women [javi remembers helena], terrible exes, mention of past relationship abuse [nothing specific or graphic], creepy guys [not javi], sassy chucho, alcohol consumption, brief SMUT, car sex, unprotected p in v sex, post-sex photos, cigarettes [are bad for you], javi’s gonna make a good girl dad, female reader, no physical description other than a height difference, protective!javi, no use of y/n. ⇢ word count: 7.3k (woof, sorry. there was a lot of exposition to get out) ⇢ series masterlist ⇢ a/n: switching pov’s in this one. very excited to share this series with y’all & would love to know what you think about it! as always, i’ve done my best to tag the warnings, let me know if you think i’ve missed one.

Two shots. One right after the other. That’s all it took before he managed to get his first shot off. Well, that and the sound of lead whizzing by his head. Clear and present threats to his life trying to break skin and shatter bone. In another lifetime maybe he’d have been a little faster. A little quicker to the trigger. When out on raids like this, he wasn’t sure why his finger wasn’t perpetually in a half pulled position anyway. What use was it trying to take these guys alive? They shot first and asked questions second. Why didn’t he? If they had no qualms killing a DEA agent, why’d he take precautions to save that of a sicario?

These are fanciful thoughts. Ones you can only think about after the fact. Ones only after you’ve almost had your life ended, when your adrenaline has played its role – when you’re no longer running through the streets of Medellín, praying that when you round the corner, some guy with a .38 isn’t going to clock you in the head. Bullseye.

Those are thoughts that have to come later because running after a guy nicknamed ‘Sure Shot’ doesn’t instill one with a whole lot of confidence that he’s going to get out of this alive. Hell, maybe it’s lucky Poison fired the first two shots through the window. Maybe it was fate that he’d had those couple seconds to shoot back and make a run for it before Sure Shot lifted his handgun.

Not that anything that followed was lucky.

Murphy had gone after Poison. He’d run after Sure Shot, who, while on the run, seemed to disregard his nickname and the fact that he had a weapon in his hands. Before they’d separated too much, he could hear shots ringing off and knew Murphy wasn’t having the same experience with Poison. Rather unfortunately, the streets were crowded with people going about their daily lives, put right in the middle of the action through no fault of their own other than the misfortune of their geography. They were making it hard for him to keep pace. And should things go even more amiss, they would become collateral damage.

He rolled his ankle once while propelling himself over a wall. When he landed, he knew he fucked up. Not as spry and nimble as he used to be. And surely not as much as the man he was chasing. But they were leaving the crowds. Dodging the busy streets and trading them in for back alleys which left them virtually alone. That was when it really all went to hell. He’d gotten Sure Shot pinned in his crosshairs. One could call it a perfect sting operation as Sure Shot slid his gun over. But if there had been one thing Javier Peña had learned being in Colombia, it was that he should never count on being lucky, especially when it came to anything Pablo Escobar related. Because money spoke, but it spoke louder in the slums.

And the child that had arrived pointing a handgun at him, demanding Sure Shot be let go? Sometimes twenty dollars looked too damn good. And to a child who’d been exposed to cartel violence for the entirety of his life; being handed a gun with the money was like a dream come true. They weren’t playing cowboys and indians. They were playing policía y sicarios.

Up until that point, the worst thing he ever had to do was point his government issued sidearm at that child. He didn’t know it at the time, but that would eventually lose its place on his growing list of ‘worst things he’d done’. He couldn’t even blame the kid who was only acting in favor of a hero, so he added it to the list of reasons to hate Escobar.

Javi blinked. He was no longer in Bogotá or Medellín, but in Laredo, Texas. His hometown. Gone were the days of chasing someone down and being shot at, for now at least. Now his days consisted of helping his dad out on the ranch or DEA desk work. That was the one perk to Laredo. It sat right up against the US, Mexico border with an international airport a stone's throw away on the Mexico side, in Nuevo Laredo. It was just the right place for a DEA field office to set up and watch drugs try to enter the US. But it was also the place Javi had run from. The first chance he got, despite conversations with his father about how he could run but he might not like what he found. Truth was, he didn’t. The world outside Laredo was… pretty terrible. But he never regretted leaving. There had been some remorse there for what had happened with Lorraine, but never regret.

Javier closed his mouth and swallowed. It had run dry in his moment of blacking out. Honestly, he was shocked he hadn’t gotten into a car wreck. He rested his arm on the car door and drummed his fingers against the hot metal. It had spent the better half of the day baking in the sun while he sat at border watch. Now it’d bake a little longer while he helped fix a fence on his dad’s ranch.

He glanced out his window, squinting despite the sunglasses over his eyes and had to do a quick double take. You gotta be kidding me. Going along the sidewalk, arms swinging haphazardly, a little girl walked all by herself. She couldn’t have been more than six. Pigtails bounced with each step she took. Little Mary Jane shoes buckled over white socks, a navy blue and white checkered dress. She looked entirely out of place in the horribly country town. An innocent little creature in a world full of wolves. And as Javi continued to watch her, slowing down to accommodate for a red light but also to keep in line with her, he saw the wolves start to come out. The little girl remained oblivious to all of it, as a child who doesn’t know the world is full of evil would. A stark contrast to a lot of the children in Colombia.

Though she was able to continue on her way without notice of the world around her, Javi couldn’t. Not as she passed a group of boys on bikes – probably only a few years older than her – and how they tugged on her pigtails when she walked by. She waved her hands at them, brushing them out of her ringlets, the permanent smile not leaving her face for a second. The boys followed her for a few steps after she passed, probably thinking she’d pay them some attention if they teased her loud enough. But the moment they were behind her and no longer in her line of vision, it was like she had forgotten they’d ever been alive. Not once did she turn around to them, and finding this game now boring, the boys turned back and pedaled away. But those boys were the least of her worries. Sure, the boys were annoying but they proved to be no real threat. Kids didn’t carry guns here like they did in Medellín. At least, Javi didn’t think they did.

There was, however, a real threat. Or one Javi perceived to be a real threat. He doubted the little angel realized she was walking through a potential lion’s den. Now fully stopped at the red light, he kept his focus squarely on her. He didn’t want to think too hard about how useless he was while actually in his car, but regardless, he continued to watch. She skipped past a group of three men. Using the profiling skills the DEA had drilled into him, he figured these guys were around his age, though a little worse for wear. Each had a cigarette hanging from their lips and beer bellies hanging from beneath shirts. And every single one watched the little girl pass by. The conversation the men had been having stopped almost immediately, and gave way to what could best be described as ogling. Only once did one of the men manage to tear his eyes away to glance up and down the street. As if fully realizing this little angel was indeed alone they all started to chuckle.

The red light had thwarted the little girl’s advance. She reached up on tip toes and pressed her tiny fingers against the metal pedestrian button. Traffic in front of her and the group of men behind her, she was trapped in the middle. Javi almost thought he’d just continue on his way. That girl’s parents had made the decision to let their child walk alone. Prey to the world. And he had responsibilities to get through. His dad would tear him a new one if he was late. The fence had to be fixed by nightfall to keep coyotes from killing the chickens. He really thought he’d go on his way.

But they whistled at her.

And though not in the way Javi had been guilty of doing to a hooker or two, but in a way of trying to get her attention in lieu of candy. They whistled at her. And he prayed she’d continue to ignore the world around her. For just a second more.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. Javi tore his eyes away from her long enough to look over his right shoulder, make sure he was in the clear, and then broke a few traffic laws to get to the curb. He threw his car in park, mumbled another profanity to himself, and got out of his car. Even breaking a few more laws to cross the street as the light turned green. But he had to get to her. Maybe to the public, he looked no better than the guys who had whistled at her. But he knew himself. He trusted himself a helluva lot more than he trusted those guys. So dodging traffic, he ran to her side of the street as the men advanced toward her. Despite the light now showing the little walking man, giving her the right of way, she didn’t move from the curb. Just stared at the street as Javi approached, “muñequita!”

The sound of his voice was enough to get the men to pivot on their heels and walk away from her. Javi was glad about that. He didn’t want to try to go up against three beer bellies. But the sound of his voice hadn’t been enough to get her attention. He tried again, now stepping up onto the curb beside her, “muñequita.”

Finally she looked at him. Hands clasped in front of her, head tilted back, and big, brown, soulful eyes looked up into his. The smile still on her face. Painfully unaware of the world around her. “Muñequita, where’re you going all by yourself?”

“Home,” she lifted one hand and pointed straight ahead.

Javi looked in the direction of her hand, finding that the light had already turned red again. He reached past her and hit the metal button again. “Where’s your mom?”

“She’s working!” the little voice chirped. High-pitched and very clear. Obviously, strange man, mommy is working.

“What about your dad? Where’s he?”

She shrugged, “I don’t know.”

Javi pursed his lips and nodded. He must’ve been out of the picture. Surely wasn’t the first deadbeat dad in the world. Javier crouched down, wincing, and rested his forearms on his knees, letting his hands dangle in front of him. “It’s not safe for you to be out here by yourself, muñequita. Can I drive you home?”

The little girl shook her head but the smile remained, “mommy said not to get in stranger’s cars.”

“That’s right. Your mommy’s very smart.” He looked back at the streetlight. It had turned green for them again. “Can I walk you home, then?”

She nodded enthusiastically, probably just happy to have a ‘friend’ along for the walk that she could muse too. So Javi stepped off the curb and started crossing the street. But when he looked down to ask her if she knew her address, he found that she wasn’t beside him. He glanced back over his shoulder and found her standing on the edge of the curb. Her arm outstretched. Her delicate little hand opening and closing in his direction. Help, help, help. He took a breath and lowered his head sheepishly, he should’ve known, and made the few steps back to her. With his hand held open, she slotted hers in it and jumped off the curb with flair, skipping along to keep up with him.

It melted his heart. This sweet, little creature. A Lamb of God. And though she wasn’t pointing a gun at his face, she reminded him a lot of that little Colombian boy in Medellín. That boy had been given a gun and left alone. Sent to do the work of a drug lord who was far too willing to sacrifice a child’s life as long as it wasn’t his own. And this one… what was to become of this angelita left alone? If the crimes he’d seen committed against children in Colombia hadn’t been bad enough, the crimes he witnessed against women had been. At that moment, looking down at the little girl, Javier only thought of Helena. He wondered where she was. Where she ended up. Had she gotten to America? Had it been kind to her?

❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖

Javi knocked on the front door and took a step back. He glanced down at the little girl, her hand still firmly gripping his. She hadn’t let go of it since they crossed the street. It also wasn’t the only thing she didn’t stop doing on the rest of the walk. She hadn’t stopped talking. About the clouds, every dog they passed, her school friends and their first grade-sized drama. He’d learned she was five and a quarter and one of the youngest in her class. Her favorite color was purple. And she liked her scooter because she was afraid of her bike.

And above all, she did not seem concerned that there was no answer at her house. Javi knocked again, but the girl pulled her hand out of his and ran back down the porch step, down the small paved path, and cut across to the lawn. Javi immediately turned and went after her, taking a couple steps in her direction before he slowed down when he saw what she had set out to do. Crouched down, singing to herself, she plucked a flower from the grass and came skipping back to him.

“Look!” She thrust the tiny flower in his direction.

He glanced at it, shifting his focus between the little, yellow flower and her. “Wow,” he feigned excitement.

She tugged on his hand again, “‘s a buttercup! Sit, I want to see if you’re good!”

Javi took a deep breath and looked around the neighborhood, wondering if anyone had seen him arrive with her. If they were suspicious as to what some random man was doing with a little child that wasn’t his. But she tugged on his hand again so he sat on the step and she curled in closer to him, resting her free hand on his leg.

“See!” She held the flower beneath her chin, “‘f’it glows lellow, that means you’re good!” She grinned and got impossibly closer to him. “Is it lellow?”

He ducked his head and spotted a faint colorful glow on her chin. He didn’t have the heart to tell her that the sun was reflecting it. “Yeah, it’s yellow,”

“I’m good!” She shrieked and reached her hand towards Javi’s face, “lemme see if it’s lellow for you,”

Javier stretched his neck, raising his chin to give her access to the spot she needed for her experiment. There was a little pause, the petals brushing against the bottom of his chin as she inspected it. His eyes locked on her, watching.

“It is!”

She yanked her hand away and Javi lowered his chin, a new, wide grin spread across his face. “I’m good?” he asked, looping his arm around her back when she flung the flower away and scooted in closer to him.

The little girl nodded and opened her mouth to say something else but her attention was quickly diverted when a set of tires crackled along the gravel driveway. She hopped to her feet excitedly, but stayed planted beside Javier, her hand clutching his leg to steady herself.

❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖

Panic set in at the sight of an unknown man sitting, waiting at your house. The panic turned heart-stopping when you saw that that unknown man had his arm wrapped around your young daughter. Worse, he seemed to be smiling… beaming… at her. As if he’d found the greatest of prizes. Though his smile did vanish upon the sound of your tires crunching along the gravel driveway.

And the way you exited your car? With speed you didn’t know was in you. The story you’d heard about a mama bear instinct kicking in, in times of crisis had never exposed itself as fiercely as it did in this moment. It had only come in shades of gray before. Now it was full on technicolor. You were seeing it in living color and it felt as though you’d been removed from your body, floating above it all, getting a bird’s eye view. The way this man stood clutching onto your daughter’s hand, and the way she hesitated to obey your command to get away from him in order to give him a hug around the leg. A bitterness rose in your throat and only slightly settled when she finally bounded toward you. Still from your bird’s eye view, it was as if you watched yourself inspect her for harm done but found none. And temporarily satisfied, you suggested she carry on to the backyard. A gated safe haven and more importantly, far, far away from the strange, mustached man, staring at you both.

She obliged, as she always did. She was an angel. And after your ex – her father – all but split at the pregnancy announcement, an angel was exactly what you needed. The expectation was never that you’d become a single parent, but you figured it was a better option than sticking around with that deadbeat. Which, as you approached the stranger on your porch, made you wonder… where was that deadbeat? It was his day to pick her up from school.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” You spat, now in killing distance if you so pleased to do to this guy. “So help me, I will cut off your dick and balls, put it on a pike, and march it through town! She’s five for fuck’s sake!”

Javi to his credit, not particularly known for his abundant patience, didn’t yell back. Didn’t fly off the handle in a fit of anger. Didn’t even let his expression show the slightest hint of sorrow. In fact, he had a smile on his face. And if that didn’t piss you the hell off even more.

“Is this your thing? You follow a little girl home, scoop her up, and poof! She vanishes. You fuck right off.”

Smile still plastered on his face, clearly finding some form of enjoyment from this spectacle you were putting on. But when the rampage simmered down, awaiting an answer, he lifted his hand, palm turned upward in an invitation to embrace yours, and grinned a little wider, “Javier Peña, DEA.”

You scoffed, staring his hand down and crossing your arms over your chest, “you think it’s better that you’re a cop? One bad apple…”

He rested his hands on his hips, “technically a Fed. For drug enforcement. And as far as I know, she didn’t have any coke-laced lollipops on her.”

You opened your mouth for another smart response, anything to show that you had the upper hand here. Concerning your kin. On your property. But Javi took a step forward, effectively forcing you back off the singular porch step, and there he stood towering over you, on the high ground. Though he would’ve towered over you anyway, even had you been on equal footing.

“If I were a cop, I’d be lecturin’ you about how it’s irresponsible to let your child walk home alone. And worse that she’s only five, as you so generously pointed out. You don’t need to be worryin’ about me, you need to be worryin’ about the fuckin’ group of men whistling at her. Tryna get her attention.” He stepped off the porch, now on even ground with you, and just as suspected, he towered over you. Broad shoulders straining against a button-down cotton shirt, square jaw and strong nose to boot. “You don’t have to believe this, but I’m the best thing that could’ve walked into your daughter’s life today. ‘cause in my line of work, I have seen kids go poof. And for the little girls, they’re lucky if they go poof. It’s usually a helluva lot better than the alternative,”

Despite the height difference, you stepped closer, coming face to chest. Doing your best threatening glare. “If I see you around my daughter again, I will parade your severed penis around town like it’s a fourth of July float. Do not fucking try me, Javier Peña,”

It wasn’t until you let yourself inside the house and slammed the door behind you, that the smile returned to Javi’s face and he crossed through the front yard to get back to the sidewalk. While talk about one’s severed penis was rarely a reason to smile, it was one of the least violent things that he’d been threatened with and he figured that sort of punishment was far better than the kind that he’d watched Los Pepes commit in Colombia. And, yes, the cause had been just – in the effort to take down Pablo Escobar. But he knew the ease with which Los Pepes murdered sicarios in Medellín would one day be turned against him. They would have found a justification for his murder. And that, mixed with the fact that what he was doing was definitely illegal, was the reason he was back in Laredo. And the reason he’d been able to keep the muñequita safe today.

❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖

He knew he wouldn’t make it to Chucho’s ranch before sundown. No chance. And his dad, also not particularly known for his patience (at least where it concerned his son), wasn’t bound to be too pleased about his son’s absence today. Hopefully he’d managed to fix the fence without him.

Javier’s suspicions proved to be correct when he pulled up his father’s long, dirt driveway and came upon the main house just as Chucho and his longtime ranch hand, Pancho, were stepping out the front door. For the second time that day, Javi found himself murmuring, “fuck,” beneath his breath.

Headlights illuminated the two older gentlemen, who still donned their boots, cowboy hats, and dusty jeans from their laborious day. Javi threw the car in park nearly before he hit the brakes, surely stripping the gears, and hopped out of the cab, ready to plead his case.

Chucho held up his hand. The wrinkles etched deep in his skin after decades of hard work in the sun. “No mames!” He shook his head and muttered to himself, “pinche naco. You owe Pancho a couple beers.” The elder Peña rounded to the driver side of his truck with Pancho letting himself into the passenger side. But before he fully entered the cab, Chucho looked back at Javi with a shout, “meet us at the Tack Room!”

The Tack Room. One of a handful of watering holes in town that boasted a kitschy barn theme. But it had the distinction of being the only one that was actually in an old barn. It had been transformed into the bar in Chucho’s young adulthood, and it had been his go-to place ever since Javier could remember. It was nothing fancy. Just a small town dive. Truly a place for locals though it wasn’t as if Laredo had much tourist appeal. Drinks were cheap. Domestic beers hovered around a buck. The food was greasy. Perfect for soaking up the alcohol already consumed and making patrons believe they could tolerate more. To Chucho it was home away from home, and to Javier, it was the place he’d gotten hooked on cigarettes. And places like it had been the reason he’d been so keen on leaving town as soon as he could. In a town as small as this, the local dives harbored three types of people:

The townsfolk who gossiped and got into everyone’s business.

The rancheros who never thought about leaving town.

And the deadbeats who never even tried.

And he’d gone to school with a lot of those in column number three. It was the bubble. People settled down here with jobs that barely paid the bills. They got married and started families. Those kids grew up, and never having the care, ambition, or opportunity to venture outside of southern Texas, stayed put. They fell in line with the work they’d watched their parents do and eventually started having babies of their own. And the cycle continued. All Javier knew was he had to get the hell out of there. So he did… despite the lump of guilt in his stomach about leaving his aging father behind. And when leaving brought him all the way to Colombia, Javi never thought he’d step foot in The Tack Room ever again.

It never failed to smell like sweat, burnt oil, and sawdust. A unique odor that all but singed his nose hairs and left him thinking his sense of smell would forever be compromised. The taste of Tecate didn’t even help. Not even the second one they were all on.

“Did you get the fence up, dad?” Javier asked, side-eyeing the girls at the next table over. If they weren’t old classmates or old girlfriends, he’d have a chance at warming up his bed tonight. They both looked like strangers to him. He could take his pick… or perhaps get both.

“No thanks to you, pendejo.”

“Alright, pop,” He took another sip from his pint glass. “I said I was sorry. I got held up, what do you want from me?”

Chucho lifted his cowboy hat off his head and smoothed out his hair before placing the hat back on. “Don’t think askin’ my son to stick to his word is too much. Instead Pancho has to help and his back’s–” Chucho interrupted himself. Then, looking past his son, and with a tone that dripped soft saccharine, “hola, chiquita!”

“Hola, Chucho!”

“Ven acá! Come meet my boy,”

❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖

The day hadn’t been great to say the least. No day in Laredo was great but thanks to a deadbeat baby daddy and an even deader-beat judge, it was where you were holed up. Traded in San Antonio for it and cursed yourself everyday. As far as you could tell, there wasn’t any getting out of Laredo. Not for you. Not for any of the townies you’d come to recognize. Everyone just stayed put. The reason as to why hadn’t yet revealed itself. There wasn’t anything great in Laredo.

Well maybe that wasn’t entirely true.

A deadbeat baby daddy for an ex was the reason you were here but without him you wouldn’t have had actual sunshine for a daughter. How she ended up like that while being genetically half of him, you’d never know. But if having chosen a different guy meant you’d never had her, it’s a mistake you would’ve made over and over and over again. She was just about the greatest thing ever planted on God’s green earth.

And your job wasn’t so bad. Your first job, at least. There was some sort of cruel irony that job number one was as a clerk in the same courthouse where that deadbeat judge had told you it’d be “beneficial for the girl to grow up around her father”. He obviously didn’t know, or care to learn, just how terrible that guy was. Truthfully anyone – literally anyone – would be better off not being around him. But clerking was a job nonetheless. One with a steady schedule and pay. Easy to plan life around. Not like the second job.

Very few good arguments could be made for The Tack Room. And even less for being a bartender there. Originally you thought a small town bar only full of locals meant that everyone would treat you kindly. But you learned people were pretty much dicks anywhere you went in the world. See, a small town bar full of locals meant that the patrons started to get a little too comfortable. And since no respectable woman would be caught dead drinking at The Tack Room, it meant the place was full with large, aggressively masculine men, who’d spent the day working in the sun or bumming it on the couch while their woman brought everything to the table. And those large, aggressively masculine men, when given liquid courage, started to think they were God’s gift to humanity. Glorified machines to move their penises from one room to another. A normal shift meant being catcalled, grabbed, hugged, or pinched more times than you had fingers. The other girls blushed and cowered and took that behavior. They were raised here – worse, they’d known some of the older men who were now pinching their asses, as children.

Not you. You could thank your deadbeat ex for that. No man was ever going to lay a hand on you like that again.

“Hola chiquita!” The soundwaves drifted in your direction, wrapping the sing-song lilt around your atmosphere, and settling warm in your chest.

Actually, there was one good thing about The Tack Room. Chucho Peña. A quiet, aging gentleman from a bygone era; he was an unforeseen light. He’d liked you since the day he met you a year or so back, here at the bar. First shift, carrying a tray of empty beer bottles, Pepe Hernandez (that asshole) grabbed you by the back pocket of your jeans, pulled you back into him until you were seated in his lap and while he thought he was hung like a horse, you realized he was working with a chode. You told him as such – something mean and cutting since he’d already been rude with you – and instead of quietly nursing his bruised ego, he cocked a fist back and tried to take a swing.

Another thing to thank your deadbeat ex for. He taught you that fists were fast but your reflexes could be faster. You dropped the tray, beer bottles crashing to the sawdust floor, and dodged his hand. He may’ve missed but you never did. Landed one punch straight to his nose. With the commotion, you could hear your boss rumbling, coming out from the kitchen to see what the matter was. And before you knew it your little unforeseen light, Chucho Peña, was beside you. He nudged you out of the way and stood over Pepe.

Your eyes widened at Chucho, but your boss arrived at the scene you’d created but Chucho was taking credit for. He wanted to holler and cuss someone out. Crack some skulls for causing a ruckus. But finding Chucho (who, you’d later found out, had given your now boss his first ranching job as a teenager), your boss backed down and kicked Pepe out.

That first night, Chucho had given you his classic Peña wink and introduced himself. He didn’t like men around acting like fools and making his beer taste bad. But he liked you. Liked your grit. Your guts. And maybe because he knew you could rip him apart, he always treated you extra nice. To make up for the fact that no one else did.

“Hola, Chucho!” You yelled back over the noise of the bar.

“Ven acá! Come meet my boy,”

You handed your purse to the bartendress behind the already crowded bar and got an apron from her in return. Wrapped it around your waist and tied it tightly around your waist on your way over to the table Chucho and Pancho were sitting at. Chucho had mentioned his son only a couple times in passing. You got the sense it was a sensitive subject and never cared to pry too much.

But this son… your blood ran cold at the sight of him. Dark brown hair, dark brown eyes, clean shaven save for the mustache…

❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖

Out of all the faces he imagined coming up to the table per his father’s offering, he never guessed it’d be you. And that fact made a little chuckle erupt from his throat when he held out his hand for an introduction you didn’t need.

“Hey, chiquita,” he smirked, all charm and nerve. Even more pleased with himself when you shoved your hand into his and told him your actual name.

But less pleased after you practically ignored him after that. Only spent a couple minutes making small talk with Chucho, trying to remain polite despite wanting to get the fuck away from his son. Maybe one day you’d fill the elder Peña in on how his son was caught with a five year old.

After you politely excused yourself from the table so you could get to work, and Javier realized he’d been practically silent the entire time, he glanced at his dad and found him gearing up for a ribbing.

“Didn’t you used to have game with the ladies?” Chucho grinned and took a sip of his beer.

“She’s not my type,” Javi grumbled.

“Ah ha. You mean she’d take a bit of work,” Chucho nodded, easing his cowboy hat back out of his eyes. “Son, it’s the women like that, that you gotta hold on to,”

Javi shook his head absently, trying to write off his dad’s comments. But he still spent the rest of the night glancing back at the bar every now and again to get a glimpse of you. He wondered how much “work” it’d take him until you bent for him just like every other woman. To his dismay, you didn’t come back to the table the rest of the night. Instead, another waitress made the rounds and filled up the beers. She didn’t seem to have any problem with him. She’d be an easy one to get. But his dad’s words rang in his ears, and despite the waitress putting in a mighty effort to get his attention, he just kept looking back at you.

Until about midnight when he needed to close out. That waitress had stopped coming around when Chucho and Pancho left and she realized she wasn’t going to get any attention from him. He stood from the table and wandered over to the bar, pulling his leather billfold out of his wallet. Foot propped up on the kick step beneath the bar, and forearms on the wood bar top, he smiled when you made eye contact with him, practically forced to help him.

“Closing out?” you asked, noncommittally.

He nodded affirmatively, waiting until you were back in front of him with the printed tab before he asked, “who’s watchin’ your kid now?”

And you could deck him. Really could. Put some serious thought into it. But he seemed to catch on that his little joke wasn’t too funny.

“Sorry,” he bowed and slid his credit card over to you.

You ran his card, taking deep breaths so that when you turned around to face him, you wouldn’t be seeing complete red. It worked just a bit, and when you turned to hand the bill back to him, you only saw shades of dark pink. “Chucho never mentioned his son was DEA. Sounds like a lie,”

Javier smiled again. While he slid his credit card back into his wallet, he simultaneously slid out the badge that got him into the local office. Presenting it to you and adding the same blank expression on his face as his picture on the badge, he figured you believed him.

“She talked about you all day,” you shook your head and ran a towel over the bar to wipe away lingering condensation. It gave you something to do other than get lost in his eyes. “The buttercups told her you were good,”

“Not sure who taught her that, but buttercups aren’t very good judges of character,”

“I did,”

He pressed his lips together and leaned a little closer to the bar. “Well, they’re not. But they didn’t lie,”

You nodded, relenting. “Then I guess I should thank you. And apologize for that stuff about severing your penis and marching it through town,”

“Trust me, I’m sure you’re not the only woman in Laredo interested in separating me from my penis,”

“It does some damage, doesn’t it?”

A flush worked its way up to Javi’s cheeks and he laughed softly. He figured he’d let that one go without response. Your brain could imagine for itself what kind of damage he could do.

“I’m off in a half hour. If you stick around, I can show you how sorry I am,”

❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖

Maybe this not so great day was turning around. That’s the only explanation you could think of as to why you were currently seated on Javi’s lap in the passenger seat of your car, knees planted on either side of his waist, pressing against the coarse seat fabric. Tight t-shirt pushed up as far as it would go with your arms still in the sleeves. High enough for your breasts to be exposed; lace bra hiding the last bit of skin you had to offer. His hands had a crushing hold on your hips, rocking your body along his length. He was perpetually bottomed out, the lack of space giving no chance for reprieve. You brought one hand to the back of his neck while the other flung up and pressed against the roof of the car, trying to keep yourself down despite your body involuntarily inching away from him. Not that the confines of the space, or his grip on you, would let you get too far.

“C’mon, give it to me,” he growled with a labored breath.

A moan ripped through your chest and throat. Thighs quivered around Javi’s hips, which he undoubtedly felt because a chuckle rumbled past his lips and into the space between you both. You lowered your head, looking down into his eyes which were already boring into your soul.

“Already?”

“Shut up, Peña,”

He snapped his hips upward, where the head of his cock pressed against your cervix, searching for entry into a depth your body couldn’t accommodate. But entry wasn’t the ultimate goal, it was just to prove to you that he could. So he wrapped one arm around you, keeping you pinned to him where every movement of your body on his created friction against your clit.

“Javi, querida. It’s Javi,”

Your head lolled forward and tucked into his neck. His scent overwhelmed your senses. Despite you being on top of him, he seemed to be everywhere. His body encompassed yours like a weighted blanket. Arms snaked around you to keep you close, as if you had any intention of furthering yourself from the pleasure he was giving you. “Javi,” his name lingered on your lips, singing two syllables that had never sounded so sweet. “I’m gonna come,” you gasped into his neck, closing your mouth and suckling gently on his skin.

He smiled and licked his lips, trying to focus on the feeling of your mouth on his neck. Anything to not give in to the feeling of your anatomy squeezing him within an inch of his life. He didn’t need you to tell him you were close; he could tell. “I feel it. Feel you pulling me deeper,” he lowered his head closer to your ear, his arm doing most of the work to keep your body in its steady rhythm, thrusting along him. “Go on, soak me. Give me your best,”

“Javi, Javi,” you panted. Then quickly, your head was pulled away from his neck. Both his hands cupped around your cheeks, forcing you to look down into his heads.

You tried to lose the eye contact by squeezing your eyes shut, but Javi shook you to attention. “Let me see those eyes when you come all over me,”

Eyes snapped open, pleading. Eyebrows furrowed and mouth slack. Javi lifted his hips to meet the shifting of your body and that’s when you went rigid. Hands curling into fists and shaking. Your body jerked on top of him, an otherworldly cry erupting through you. He held on tight, leaning over and biting into your shoulder as you continued to tremble through your high. The breath hitched in your throat and it took a few seconds before a new deep lungful air entered your body. By that point, Javier was flexing and shaking beneath you.

“Where–shit–”

He knew you heard him too late. No doubt the throbbing of the pulse in your ears had blocked off the rest of the world. Unable to hear anything over the sound of your own blood pumping through your veins and the shattered cry coming out of your throat. So that by the time you did hear his question, it was too late. And Javi, just as he wasn’t known for his patience, also wasn’t known for his restraint – and yet somehow had the presence of mind and the wherewithal to physically lift you off his member just seconds before he came with a groan; thick spend coating his stomach.

You stared at it, watching the droplets create a line down toward the base of his cock, slaves to gravity. Only when he wrapped a large paw over your thigh and gave it a squeeze, did you blink and look back into his eyes.

“Good?” He asked in the same moment you leaned forward, finding himself face first in your breasts, “hello,” he smirked against your skin and bit into the fleshy mounds.

You squealed, searching blindly in the backseat with your hand before your fingertips found what they’d be looking for. And pulling back, with your free hand latching onto Javi’s hair and giving it a playful tug, you produced a Polaroid camera.

“‘S’that for?” he cocked his head to the side.

But you didn’t answer him. Just quickly held it up to your eye, peered through the viewfinder and snapped the photo.

“Hey!” He snatched the photo away as it printed, currently just a gray square, waiting for the final image to appear. “What is this? Blackmail? You take pictures of all your conquests,”

You laughed and grabbed the photo right back, placing it in your bra and lowering your shirt. “You’re not that special, Peña,”

Leaning back while still on his lap to create more distance for the camera, you held it back up to your eye and inspected the frame. This time his face didn’t make the cut, but his chest, down to his stomach still donning his come with his member laid back against it did. Along with your bare thighs straddling him, one of his hands still had real estate on your skin. You snapped that picture, too, and flipped it over to its blank side. With a pen in the center console courtesy of The Tack Room, you wrote your number and handed the picture to Javi. He was out of your car before the thing had even finished developing. And in the darkness of the parking lot, he wouldn’t have been able to see the image even if it had been. A cigarette was in his mouth by the time you peeled out of the lot, and his nerves were settling with the overhead lights in his car flicking on. That was when he saw just what you’d snapped the second time. Two bodies. Anonymous. His cock rested limp against his stomach. Your legs secured around his hips. And a phone number on the back with the instruction, call me, Peña.

#javier pena x reader #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena x you #javier pena narcos #javier pena x female reader #javier pena x f!reader #ppcu fanfiction #ppcu #javier pena smut #javier pena angst #javier pena fluff #narcos fanfiction #narcos fic #javier pena fic

181 notes · View notes

foreverdolly · 2 years

Text

tattooed heart | biker!austin butler x reader

summary: austin is the club president of a local outlaw biker gang- a one percenter. he lies, he kills and he doesn't apologize for it. he was one weakness- you. when he gets a distressed late night call from you he's quick to come to your rescue. the only problem? your own father was in the same motorcycle club that austin now runs, and after his death you cut all contact. when you two see each other again emotions run high and things get. . . a little out of control.

pairings: biker!austin butler x reader

word count: 12,074

warnings/notes: SMUT! violence, brief mention of dv (your ex), cursing, spitting, choking, blood play, unprotected sex, creampie, austin is obsessed with you, but what’s new? this one is wild and i might have to make it a series if ya'll like it enough, so feedback would be awesome.

masterlist

“That’s why you’re the treasurer, Marcus. You don’t run jack shit around here. You crunch the numbers, give them to me, and that’s what I go off of. That’s the definition of your job around here.” Austin sat up a little straighter in his leather work chair, jabbing his finger into the desk hard enough to rattle it as he spoke. “I don’t need you getting all high and mighty, trying to take charge of things. Xavier let all of you fuckers do whatever the hell you wanted while I was locked up, but I’m back now, so things are going back to the way they were.” All Austin wanted to do was go home and shower. It was nearly one in the morning, and he had barely gotten a wink of sleep over the last three days. The blonde had expected the Vice President to keep up with all of the prospects, club funds, and the general upkeep of the building as well as it’s members. It wasn’t too much to ask, right? Not when you were getting paid handsomely for it. Austin continued to run the more illegal practices himself while he rotted away in prison for two years, not trusting anyone else to do it. This- the mess on his desk- was the exact reason why he didn’t trust anyone.

Marcus swallowed thickly, watching his boss nervously, as though he was a ticking time-bomb just waiting to go off. And maybe Austin was. He felt like it was only a matter of time before he absolutely flipped shit and destroyed either something or someone. No one had been keeping up with anything while he was gone. Austin had continued flowing money into this place, while all they did with it was buy booze, women, and lord knows what else. The building was an absolute wreck. There were holes in the walls, half of the toilets in the entire building no longer worked, and to make matters worse an enemy Club had broken into their garage two months ago and had stolen three of Austin’s classic bikes while he was still away. No one had the balls to call him up and tell him.

What a nice fucking welcome home present.

“If I come back here tomorrow and these papers aren’t dated and filed when I get back? I’ll have your fucking head,” He stood up roughly, leaning forward so that he could get right in Marcus’s face. “Are we clear?” His voice was eerily calm, using the same tone that he would when speaking to a child. The middle aged bald man hurriedly nodded, fumbling forward so that he could start scooping up the mass of papers. Austin kicked the leather chair he had just stood up from, hearing it clatter into the wall roughly behind him. “And fucking fix whatever the hell I just broke.” He muttered before walking out his office door. A few members were still hanging around, laughing amongst themselves as they sat around a poker table talking. The dumb assholes had the audacity to have their feet kicked up on the table, drinking Jack Daniel’s and shooting the shit as though they hadn’t absolutely destroyed the place. Austin’s eye twitched as he walked behind the bar, grabbing a fresh pack of Marlboros before sauntering over towards them. “What’s so funny guys?” They froze as they heard their President’s voice, all looking up at him with fearful, glassy eyes. “No, don’t quiet down now. I want to know what’s so fucking funny.” Austin had been out of prison for all of three days. The first two days he had tried to readjust to normal life, and today he was expecting to come back to the club, maybe fix a few things that were out of place, and then go about business as usual.

He could barely sleep in his bed, now completely unused to a regular mattress, which had made it nearly impossible to keep his already ridiculous anger issues under control. Not only that, but he no longer had a bitch-boy bunkie to boss around and wannabe gangsters to treat as punching bags whenever he needed to let off some steam. Then he comes back to this? He was shaking, his sharp jawline ticking as he clenched and unclenched his teeth. He could barely resist the urge to bash the new member’s face into the table until the fuck stopped twitching.

“You know what. . .” Austin grinned, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He began wagging pointer finger at the group, all of them already shifting in their seats as they waited for the shit show that was bound to start any second. “I think I know what’s funny.” Austin grabbed an empty bottle of whiskey, lazily dragging it across the table before gripping it in his large hand. He stared down at the label for a few seconds, taking a steadying breath in through his nose before he finally looked back at the table. They flinched away from his heated gaze, the older member’s beginning to cower as they recognized the murderous intent in his eyes. “It’s how fucking disgusting this place is!” He reared back and tossed the glass against the wall behind them, the thing hitting the wooden surface so hard that it practically turned to dust. They all covered their heads, pushing their way out of their seats in an attempt to get away. “If you boys want to stay here and drink for the rest of the night, then by all means. Do it. But clean this place up first!” He stalked across the club, slamming the front door closed so hard that it shook the hinges, before straddling his Harley.

The long drive home did wonders for his mood, but riding always did that for him. The cold air forced his hair off of his forehead and felt good against his hot face. Austin used the time that it took him to get from the club to his house to think.

He never used to be the type of person to overthink. If something upset him, he’d try his damndest to push it from his mind completely. If the unwanted thought ever bubbled back up to the surface, he’d punch something and move on with his day. He didn’t like wasting time worrying about things that were out of his control.

But he liked to worry about you.

In the thirty minutes that it had taken for him to get home, somehow his mind had landed on the subject of. . . well. . . you. He wondered where you were, how you were doing, and for a second he worried about whether or not you had learned to hate him over time. Austin knew that he wasn’t a very well liked person, and for good reason. People either feared him or were taught to. It was how he had functioned his entire life. How he had been raised. Lying, stealing, and killing were just a way of life for him. A means to an end, really. He had learned it from his father, and his father had learned it from his.

Austin came from a long line of outlaws. They did whatever the fuck they wanted and never apologized for it. You join the Club knowing that there is a possibility that you might not make it out alive. Only the strong survive, and Austin had been bred to be mean because of it. Your father had been the same way. The two of your parents had grown up together, and had both been the leaders of the very same Club that Austin now ran.

You had been raised up right alongside him, and to say that he didn’t have a soft spot for you would be a damn lie. Austin had one weakness, and that was you. He hated feeling vulnerable. He absolutely couldn’t stand it, but he never could shake you, no matter how hard he had tried growing up. You had hollowed out his bones, and sunk deep deep deep into his marrow. You were just as much a part of him as his own flesh and blood.

You weren’t cut out for the life that you had been born into though. All that senseless killing always got to you. It got to you bad. This wasn’t what you would have chosen for yourself- The One Percenters. You were tired of keeping your distance from people on the outside, too afraid to get them caught up in all the wrong things. You wanted a normal life. You had wanted to get out. Once you're in the club though, even if you’re born into it, it’s hard to leave. Your father had been the Vice President, meaning you had heard just about all of the comings and goings of the Clubs activities. Having you out of sight was a liability. Austin didn’t know what it meant to live a normal life, but he could understand the attachment you had to the idea. He could imagine that sort of life for himself too, but only if you were involved. There was no point if you weren’t.

Loving you was the only good thing Austin had ever done in his life.

Whenever your father died, he knew what would happen. He knew that the door to your cage had been busted wide open, and it was only natural for you to want to fly out. He didn’t harbor any anger towards you for it. It was the way that you had chosen to go about it that upset him so much.

He wished you would have at least left a note.

If you were going to disappear, then that meant that you had to disappear for good. That meant that Austin, who was next in line to take his father’s place, had to go. No call, no text, and no warning. He hadn’t even gotten a proper goodbye. One second he was holding your sobbing form at the funeral, and the next second you were gone. It was almost like your old life meant nothing to you at all. Like Austin meant nothing at all. It had crushed him. Totally and utterly devastated him. It was the kind of hurt that you never got over, no matter how many years passed. Time didn’t heal all wounds. You had taken a big piece of him with you, and it was a part of him that couldn’t heal over; couldn’t be replaced.

Weeks went by. Then months. Then years. He didn’t know if you had moved out of state. He didn’t even know if you were alive. That was the part that kept him thinking. Kept him worried. The thought of you being hurt haunted his nightmares, and caused him to wake up the next morning teary eyed and shaky. He couldn’t protect you if he didn’t know where you were. He couldn’t keep you safe like he had when you were younger. Austin had spent nearly every day with you for twenty- two years. Trying to live without you was like learning how to walk again after losing a leg. It just. . . it was never the same. A day didn’t go by that he didn’t think about you. Austin stayed true to your wishes though, even in his own grief. He didn’t look for you, and if anyone asked him if he knew where you were he’d merely say that you were off studying abroad. He’d lied about having tabs on you.

So here he was five years later, still thinking about a girl that couldn’t care less about him. Austin didn’t have the ability to open up his heart anymore than he already had. It just wasn’t big enough. Every fiber- every inch: you owned it. You had him in the palm of your hand, and that’s where he’s always stayed.

Becoming the Club President was the only thing he really could do, unless he wanted to incur his father’s wrath. So he maimed and he killed and he schemed his way to the top.

But Icarus had flown to the sun on wax wings, and even he had eventually fallen.

The murders continued to pile up, and no matter how careful he had been with everything, eventually he too had fallen from grace. Prison wasn’t too bad, not when you had seen and done the things that Austin had throughout his entire life. The first thing he had done was pick a fight with the biggest fucker in the place, and no one had messed with him after he had been sent back from The Hole. Sure, some of the men locked up in there were bigger than Austin was, but he didn’t need a shank to be tough. Austin was a mean motherfucker, and he wasn’t opposed to killing with his bare hands. He wasn’t afraid to get messy. He had spent two years like that, holed up in his room with people avoiding him like he was the plague. People who knew who he was began to talk, and the word quickly got out. He didn’t need to click up. Nobody approached him.

He thought about you a lot while he was locked up. There was no way to escape those thoughts or numb the pain that they brought with them. No, instead he took the brunt of it all. He thought about all of the things he had said to you over the years that he had come to regret. The worst part were the things that he never did get the nerve to actually tell you. He wished that he had told you that he loved you, even just once. Even if you didn’t return the sentiment, then he could have at least gotten the chance to say that he had tried. He thought about what his life could have been like if he hadn’t followed his father’s lead. If you had stayed and had given him a reason to change, maybe then he wouldn’t be in these fucked up situations.

Because the shittiest part is that Austin would have liked the opportunity to have lived a normal life with you. A life where he didn’t have to kill just to survive. A life that he could have actually been proud of. Sure, the money was great, but it wasn’t worth it. He would have been happy living in a boring suburban neighborhood in a boring little town, and driving a boring family car. He would have found a way to make it all work out. He could have given that all to you. He should have given that all to you.

But life never turns out the way that you want it to. So he stewed in all that regret while he rotted away in prison. He had been told that he could very well spend the rest of his life there. People from enemy Clubs had heard about him being locked up, and took it as an opportunity to snitch. They rattled off name after name of people that had gone “missing”, stating that he was to blame.

And he was.

His lawyer had called him on a Thursday morning and told him that some mistakes had been made with his booking papers, and a lot of the witnesses were suddenly taking back their statements. The trial didn’t have a leg to stand on after that. Austin, after only two years, was a free man.

But he didn’t feel free. Not really, at least.

So when he got back to his house after the shit show with the Club, he had stalked right up the stairs and shut himself away in his room. The shower that he took was quick, purely habit as he scrubbed his body as quickly as he could. He barely even took the time to dry himself off, tossing his towel onto the floor next to the clothes hamper, and climbing straight into bed. Austin had rolled himself up in his old duvet and melted into his pillows, and for the first night in almost a week he actually fell asleep. He was a light sleeper though, so the second his phone started ringing he was up, wide eyed and reaching for the gun that he kept tucked in his bed frame. After his heart had stopped pounding from the initial panic, he picked up. “Hello?” He grumbled, rubbing his sleepy eyes roughly with the palm of his hand while he tried desperately to wake himself up. His members knew better than to wake him up this early over something that wasn’t an emergency. “This better be good. What fuckin’ time is it?” He squinted his eyes as he turned his head to look at the bedside table, trying hard to get the blurriness out of his vision as he focused on the digital numbers of his clock: 3:24. He hadn’t even been asleep for two hours. His lips parted, ready to lay into the person on the other line. Then he heard it.

“Aus?”

Your voice. It was your voice.

The second that the sound of it reached his ears, he nearly doubled over. Austin had heard once before that a person’s voice is the first thing that you forget about a person as time goes on. For the first year he had been terrified that he might forget the gorgeous, unrestrained sound of your laughter or the lilting, melodic pitch to your voice. He had replayed memories over again and again in his head, hoping to hang on to the exact way you sounded, but over time he must have gotten it wrong. Your voice was far more beautiful than he remembered.

He sat up in bed, quick to push the comforter off of himself so that he could get up. He couldn’t think of a single good reason why would be calling him after five years, and so late into the night. No matter how beautiful your voice was, he could hear the panic in your tone. Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong. His heart had flown into his throat, and he found it hard to walk as he stumbled around his room in the dark, trying to find a pair of pants. He didn’t know why, but he felt like he had to get to you right away. Everything would be alright if he could just see you. Touch you. He could hear you sniffling softly, tears in your voice as you softly said his name again, almost too quiet for him to hear. It felt like he was breaking. His hands shook as he struggled to pull his shirt over his head, quickly pressing the phone back up to his ear when he heard something loud echoing on the other end. “Talk to me, baby.” He murmured, opening the door to his bedroom so that he could take the stairs two at a time, rushing to grab his motorcycle boots that he had by the front door. “I need you to come get me.” You were whispering into the phone, trying to keep as quiet as possible.

So you must not be alone. He held the phone against his ear with his shoulder as he tied his boots up, rushing to double knot them before grabbing his keys and wallet. “I-It’s bad.” That was too vague, and he was beginning to spiral into a panic. He was used to making sure that things went smoothly. Austin was an insanely capable person- but he felt helpless. “What’s bad?” He locked the door behind himself before jogging to the back of his house so that he could grab his bike out of the garage. He could hear your distress. “Y/n, please.” He begged after the sound of your sniffles began to get too much for him. His heart couldn’t take it. It hurt, it hurt, it hurt. He couldn’t stand it. He couldn’t breathe now that he knew you were in possible danger. You didn’t answer him, and for a second he was afraid that you had hung up. He pulled the phone away from his cheek, letting out a breath of relief when he saw that the call was still active. “Alright, tell me where you are at least. I’m coming, okay?” You whispered an unfamiliar address to him, and he was quick to type it into his GPS.

He nearly died when he saw the estimated arrival time. Nearly bent over and puked all over his beat up old boots. You had been right under his nose the entire time. Twenty seven minutes. He had been twenty seven minutes from you this entire goddamn time. “Stay where you are, alright? I’m coming to get you.” He didn’t hang up the phone, merely shoved it into his back pocket. He had a feeling that if he hung the phone up, he might never hear from you again. He had already lost you one time, he couldn’t do it again. Not after hearing the fear in your voice.

Austin couldn’t remember a time that he had ever driven that fast before. If a cop had seen him, they didn’t even bother turning their lights on and trying to pursue. He was like a bullet being shot into the dark. Gone in a flash. He almost felt bad for your neighbors when he pulled into your driveway. He was quick to move his foot against the kickstand, swinging his long leg over the bike so that he could slowly begin approaching the house. All the blinds seemed to be closed, so he couldn’t see if there were any lights on inside. He dug into his back pocket, pressing the phone against his ear. “I think I’m here,” His eyebrow raised as he heard some rustling in the background, but nearly dropped his phone when you screamed. The man had wondered why he had been the one that you called tonight. You must have known the way that he had turned out. He was everything that you supposedly hated, and yet here he was. People didn’t call Austin for help unless they wanted their bike worked on or they needed someone dead.

Seeing as he didn’t see a motorcycle in the driveway, he was guessing it was the latter.

Somebody was in there with you, and you were scared, hurt, dying- fuck, he had no clue what was going on. All he did know was that the front door was locked and he had to get to you. The One Percenters were moraless creatures who usually didn’t give a damn about anybody but their own families. The rules were simple, yet usually easy to work your way around. There was one thing that was sacred though. Never lay your hand on a woman. This was worse though. This was twenty times worse, because whether you knew it or not, you were Austin’s woman. This - whatever was happening in there - warranted death, and if anyone in the Club found out that Austin didn’t kill whatever cock sucker was inside of that house, they’d start to question who he was as a man.

He didn’t remember kicking the door in. He didn’t hear the wood splintering or glass breaking. All he could hear was the pounding of his own heart, the blood rushing in his ears. “Who the fuck is downstairs, Y/n? Huh? Who the fuck did you call?” Austin jogged up the stairs, and the second that he turned the corner he saw the fucker staring right at him. The blonde was quick to try and look around the other man’s shoulders, desperate to find you. He needed to make sure that you were alright first, and then he would decide what he would do. He had just gotten out of prison, and he didn’t want to go back any time soon. Killing the fucker was out of the question. Half of the neighborhood must have heard him break down the door, and he was sure that he had a time limit. The cops would pull up any second.

“Who the fuck are you?” Austin liked it when people tried to act tough. Your boyfriend must have thought that he actually stood some sort of a chance.

Austin didn’t answer at first, just squared off his shoulders as he waited for you to come out of the room. He could see you in the shadows, trying to walk up to the door, but the other man was quick to hold out his arm, using his body to keep you trapped. That didn’t sit well with Austin. “Hey!” He screamed, blue eyes narrowed on the other man. “She’s coming with me.” For a second the other guy just stood there, his arm pressed against your chest as he kept you trapped in the room.

“Are you fucking stupid? I’m not letting her go anywhere with you.” Austin had only gotten a quick glance of your face, what with the house being so dark, but he could see a bruise on your cheek. Whether it was fresh or old, he didn’t know. All he knew was that you had been hit. In the blink of an eye Austin had lunged forward, grabbing the man by the front of the shirt and ripping him out of the doorway. He used the man’s weight against him, tossing him onto the floor like a ragdoll before climbing over the fucker. He began bringing his tattooed fist down, connecting it with the other man’s face again and again. Your boyfriend must have hit his head during the fall, because he was too stunned to move for a few moments. Too stunned to fight back. He tried to buck Austin off of him, but the blonde was like a rabid animal. His eyes were wild, his breathing was erratic, and he couldn’t find it in himself to stop.

He knew that he shouldn’t be doing this sort of thing in front of you though. He had to stop for your sake. Austin grabbed the man by the front of his shirt again, hearing the stitches beginning to pop with the strength of his hold as he yanked him up, wanting them to be face to face to get his point across. “If she wasn’t here right now I would fucking gut you. Do you understand?” Austin had popped blood vessels in both of the man’s eyes, and he could tell that he was having a hard time focusing on anything else other than the immense pain in his face. The President was used to vocal answers at his orders. “Speak!” Austin screamed right into the man’s back, watching him flinch back. “Y-Yes.” Your boyfriend’s voice was quiet, but it was something. Ever so slowly the blonde stood up and off of the man’s chest, stepping around him so that he could get to you.

You had been crying at some point, but had stopped right around the time that you had heard Austin arrive. He made sure that his grip was light on your wrist as he reached out to grab you, bringing you into his chest so that he could wrap his arm around you. He had you, and you were safe. He kept repeating that to himself, trying desperately to contain his anger. Austin started to walk you down the hall, but stopped as he noticed the man on the ground, watching you closely as you walked past.

“Don’t fucking look at her.” Austin let go of you, motioning for you to make your way down the stairs. For a few seconds it looked like you weren’t going to obey him, almost like you were worried for the other man’s safety. The look in Austin’s eyes pushed you forward though. Made you want to get the hell out of that house and away from that horrible, horrible man. Austin looked at you like you mattered. You were safe with him, you knew it. Once you were down the stairs and out of sight, Austin reared his foot back, aiming for his upper chest. It didn’t take too many pounds of pressure to break someone’s clavicle, and he could tell by the satisfying wet popping noise that he had done just that.

“God, I’ve barely even touched you and you’re screaming like a little bitch.” Austin crouched down, resting his elbows against his thighs as he took in the sight of him. He wanted to make sure that he memorized the fuckers face, because if he ever saw him out in public. . .

“If you so much as breathe her name again and I find out? I will hunt you down like the dog that you are and skin you alive. I’ll rip every tooth out of your goddamn head and burn you down until you’re nothing but ash and I’ll make sure you’re still alive for all of it.” And with that Austin calmly stood up and made his way down the stairs, feeling around in his back pocket for his keys and phone. You were standing outside beside his bike, your arms wrapped around yourself tightly. “Hey,” He called out to you, reaching out to rub your shoulders up and down. “You’re going to be okay.” You melted into his soothing touch, because it was Austin.

Leaving Austin behind had been one of the hardest decisions that you ever had to make, but you had done it in the hopes of being able to actually live. Now that he stood in front of you, his blonde hair wind mussed and eyes wide, it really hit you just how much you had missed him. The way that he was looking at you now, you also realized that he was still very much your Austin. Just. . . with a lot more tattoos. “I want to make sure that you’re alright, but we have to get out of here. The cops will be here any minute, and the last thing I want is to be charged with breaking and entering along with assault and battery.” He was quick to hop onto his bike, turning his body to gently pat the leather seat behind him. “Come on. You remember how to do this, right?” He teased softly, trying to lighten the mood. It was becoming hard not to stare at you. Even bruised and tearstained, you were still the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.

He thought that he might go mad with tenderness at the mere sight of your face. You wiped at your cheeks roughly with the back of your hand before flashing him a shaky smile, climbing on back and wrapping your arms around him. He tried not to allow himself to get too excited as he felt your cheek press against his shoulder. He tried not to allow himself to hope.

Unbeknownst to Austin, you were currently feeling the exact same way. You didn’t want to allow yourself to get sucked back into the Outlaw lifestyle, but if you thought that it was hard to say goodbye to Austin back then, now it would be soul crushing. No one had ever cared as much about you as Austin did, and seeing the way that he had protected you tonight? It put thoughts in your head. It made you doubt whether or not the life that you had been trying to live was really for you or not. You had tried your hand at being the dotting, innocent girlfriend in the hopes of getting everything you had ever thought that you wanted. A white picket fence, a stable future, and a loving partner that you could settle down with. You wanted to get married and have a family.

You weren’t shocked by how far out into the wildness Austin lived. He was up on a mountain, the roads long and winding. Anybody that didn’t know the twists and turns like the back of their hand would get lost. The biker had always felt most comfortable in nature, and it made sense that he would want to be away from the hustle and bustle of their overpopulated city. Not only that, but it would make it near impossible for anyone that Austin didn’t want to know where he lived to find out.

His house was a humble two story wood cabin with a large porch and dark green shutters. Time and weather had caused the paint to begin to chip off, and the grass and weeds in the front yard were overgrown. The place was still beautiful, but in need of some basic repairs and upkeep. “I’ve been gone for a little while, so it doesn’t look the best.” He mumbled, sticking his house key into the knob before opening the door wide for you. You could feel his eyes on you the entire way up the porch steps. It made your skin heat up and the hair raise on the back of your neck. After being tightly pressed against his back for nearly thirty minutes, you were finding it hard to look at him. You hadn’t allowed yourself to really stare at him since that first time you saw him walking up the stairs to you, because what you had seen, even in the dark, had knocked the breath out of your lungs. He had always been gorgeous, what with his sandy blonde locks and bright blue eyes. His lazy smile had always lit a fire inside of you, and the nervous habit that he had of biting his lips always left them plush and oh so pink.

So as you brushed past him you couldn’t help but look up. You let your eyes soak up the sight of him.

And you instantly regretted it.

Never in all of your life had you ever seen a more beautiful man. His eyes were still that same antique bottle-blue that you loved so much, framed by thick, heavy lashes. Under the light of the porch his hair looked like liquid gold, now wavy and wild from the wind. His gorgeous, boarding on effeminate facial features were a stark contrast to the rest of him. He had filled out over time, his shoulders broad and strong. You could see his muscles even through the black shirt that he wore. His arms looked more than capable, the veins visible after the physical strain of the fight- and they were completely tattooed. There wasn’t an inch of skin that was visible to you that wasn’t covered- aside from his neck and face. Even his knuckles were tattooed, albeit badly bloodied, and suddenly you were overcome with the urge to grab his hands and examine them. You wanted to trace the line of all of his tattoos. Ask him what each one meant to him.

You knew that you were being obvious with your staring, but you couldn’t help but let your eyes wander down. He was wearing light wash jeans on his long legs, the hem of his pants tucked over his bulky black boots. You had wondered what that rattling sound was that you heard when he jumped up onto the porch earlier, but you could now see that he was wearing a chain wallet. After a second he cleared his throat, closing the door behind you. “You’re probably exhausted. Uh. . . Let’s get you to bed, yeah?” He nodded almost to himself, his throat working as he thickly swallowed. “Let me just take a shower, and then I’ll move down to the couch.” He grabbed the banister as he walked up the stairs, his boots thumping loudly against the wood.

The spell hadn’t been broken, but you took a second now that he was out of sight to look around the living room. He had a leather couch, a dark brown blanket tossed over the black of it haphazardly. The coffee table had a few beer bottles on it, but other than that the house looked clean. He had always taken good care of his things. Austin was a man of pride, and he liked to keep the things in his life orderly. The cabin was warm and cozy, the polar opposite of the home that he had been raised in. Austin was what some would consider Outlaw royalty, and with the kind of jobs that they took, the money poured in quickly. His childhood home had been a gaudy palace; extravagant walls had been built sky high to help hide the skeletons that had been stuffed into every closet.

This house felt lived in though. This felt less like just a place for him to sleep, and more so a safe haven for him to crawl back to after a long day at work. It made you feel more comfortable as you slowly made your way up the stairs behind him, following him into his bedroom. This room was also clean, aside from the overflowing clothes hamper. His furniture was black and minimalistic, and directly to the side of his king size bed were french doors that led out to a small balcony that overlooked his backyard. “You have a nice house. . . It’s very you.” You complimented, moving over to the bed so that you could awkwardly sit down. He was in the bathroom, riffling around in one of his cabinets before he found what it was that he wanted. He moved back into his bedroom, showing you a small washcloth that he had wet with cold water. “Let me clean you up a little bit.” He mumbled, sitting down next to you on the bed so that he could run the cloth over your cheek. You hissed, flinching back and out of his touch. Your bruised cheek was starting to get more and more sore as the seconds passed, the initial adrenaline finally working it’s way out of your system. He apologized under his breath, reaching out to grab the back of your head so that he could keep you in place. He was gentler this time as he ran the cloth over your face. “That’s going to be a nasty bruise tomorrow, but other than that you look-” He stopped himself for a second, as if he just realized how close he was to you. For a few seconds the two of you just stared at each other, taking in the small changes that time had made to each other’s features. “Aren’t you going to go take a shower?” Your voice sounded small. Unsure. The trauma of the night was beginning to sink in, and even though you wanted to ask him a hundred questions, you knew that a few moments alone in the room would do you some good. You needed to breathe, and maybe cry a little bit. You didn’t want him there for that. You wanted to be able to fall apart in private.

He seemed to get the hint. Austin nodded his head, wordlessly standing up and tossing the wet cloth into the laundry basket. He started to close the bathroom door behind him, but you were quick to call out to him. “Wait!” He paused, whipping his head back as he stared at you expectantly. He was eager to hear what you wanted to say, almost like he was waiting for something in particular. “Can you leave the door open?” You weren’t sure why, but the room almost felt too big, like it might swallow you up if you were left alone. You at least wanted to know that he was just another room away. He looked a little confused for a second, but nodded anyway. He understood that there were things that had happened before he had gotten there. Things that had been said to you that were beginning to weigh heavy. Your bones felt too brittle to carry the burden of them. “Of course.” He left the door open a crack, and you politely turned your head, letting him get undressed without your watchful eyes.

You could hear his clothing hit the floor, one garment at a time. First it was the loud thudding of his boots hitting the checkered tiles, then the soft fluttering of his t-shirt. Ever so slowly you leaned back against the bed, letting your feet dangle uselessly over the side. Your heart began to pound as you heard the zipper of his pants, then the soft jingling of his wallet as he placed it down on the sink counter. “Are you alright?” He finally spoke up. You turned your head then, looking through the doorway of the bathroom. You caught his reflection in the mirror, and he held your gaze. It wasn’t just his arms and hands that were tattooed. Your suspicions had been correct- he was absolutely covered. He let you stare at him, watching you patiently as your eyes moved from one tattoo to the next. He seemed to be a fan of the old american style, all thick black and red lines. He had always been perfect, but now? Your eyes felt like they would start to burn if you stared at him for too long. The sight of him was almost too much.

He felt the same way about you though. He watched the way your hair was spread out around your head, your lips glossy and parted slightly as you thought about how to answer that question. He could feel his pulse in his throat, and the sight of you laid out on his bed? He had to take a step away from the mirror, turning on the showerhead to hide himself away. “I will be. I’m just glad you got there when you did.” Because you were sure that it would have gotten worse. Your ex boyfriend had always been self conscious, and he liked to take it out on you. When you were home just a few minutes late from work, he thought that you were cheating. If you turned your phone over after texting a friend, then you must be talking shit. It was a never ending pattern of pointing fingers, accusations, and brutal screaming matches. You were raised to stand up for yourself though. You refused to allow yourself to be spoken down to or made to feel like a fool. Tonight. . . tonight was the straw that broke the camel's back. You always knew that he could be ruthless with his words, but you never suspected that he would ever hit you. The One Percenters were horrible people, but you’d never seen your father raise a hand to your mother. There’d be occasional bickering and drunken screaming matches, but the next day they would be attached at the hip like nothing ever happened. You just expected that was how things were supposed to be.

This new life that you had insisted on living wasn’t all that it was cracked up to be. Maybe you had screamed too loud, or maybe you had pushed your boyfriend too far. . . but he hadn’t pulled his punch either. You absentmindedly pressed your finger against your cheek, feeling how hot the bruise was under your touch. You were sure that tomorrow it would be swollen and purple, but for now it was just an angry red.

“Did he do that a lot?” Austin closed the shower curtain behind him as he spoke, ducking his tall frame under the shower head. He closed his eyes tightly, letting the water soak through his hair and warm his face. “Hit you, I mean.” He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know the answer, because it might make him want to turn right back around and finish the job. “No. . . tonight was the first time.” A beat. “And the last.” He nodded his head softly, placing his shoulder against the cool tile. The stark differences in temperature made his skin raise with goosebumps. He knew that tonight wasn’t the night to question you. You had been through enough, but he wanted answers.

He wanted to know why you had to shut him out so completely. There were things that you wanted to know about him too. Things you had been wondering over the years but were never able to ask.

“So you’re the new boss, huh?” He scrubbed at the crusted blood on his hands, chewing on his lower lip as he hesitated. “Yeah.” You filled your cheeks with air, closing your eyes tightly before releasing it with a loud sigh. “Is the Club doing well?” Austin wasn’t sure if you really cared about how they were all doing. You hated it enough to leave, but you were trying to make small talk, so he humored you. “It’s a wreck. I nearly broke Marcus’s neck this afternoon when I saw the state of things.” You hummed, remembering the older man’s laziness. Your father had hated him. “So I guess you’re not doing too hot as the president then.” He let out a quick laugh, the sound echoing in the bathroom. Your lip twitched up into a small smile at the sound of it. It was the first time you had heard him laugh in years. It was a nice sound.

“I was locked up for two years. They know to act right when I’m around. They took advantage of the fact that I wasn’t there to watch over them.” You sat up quickly, looking into the bathroom. The mirror was beginning to fog up, and the shower curtain was drawn shut. “Prison?” You questioned. “Yeah, prison. I set fire to one of Howard’s buildings. Burned up at least a million dollars worth of product. It was originally arsen, but then some of his men started snitching. A couple of other charges were pinned against me. They got dropped though, don’t worry.” You rolled your eyes, letting out a small huff. This was exactly what you didn’t want for him. He was too good for all of this bullshit. Too smart. “Well I’m glad you’re out then.” You weren’t sure what else to say. He could tell by your tone of voice that you weren’t pleased, and he didn’t take too kindly to feeling judged. He clenched his jaw, the muscle ticking as he tried to stop himself from saying something. He never did have a filter though.

“You still had my number saved in your phone.” He finally spoke up, his voice huskier than it was just a second ago. You swallowed, licking your lips nervously. This was one of the questions that you didn’t want to answer. You knew exactly where this conversation would go, and you didn’t have the energy for it. “Yeah, I did.”

“Why though?” You heard him suck in a small breath. “No call. No text. Five years is an awfully long time.” You took a second to breathe, taking in the smell of the soap that he was using. It was wafting out from the bathroom, mixing in with the natural pine scent of his home. “I didn’t want to confuse you.” You regretted phrasing it that way. You even went as far as to bite your tongue the second that the words left your lips. It was true though. You didn’t want to confuse him or yourself. You set boundaries. Hard boundaries, and it was painful for the both of you. He let out a humorless laugh, the callous sound making you flinch. You wanted to cover your ears and curl up into a small ball. You hated how cold you were suddenly coming off. This wasn’t how you guys used to act around each other. You were both walking on eggshells. The two of you were acting like strangers, and it physically hurt. Your words tugged at Austin’s heart. Kinda made him want to cry.

“Yeah. . . Yeah. You definitely wouldn’t want to confuse me. You’re right.” He spat the words out like they were poison, pulling the showercurtain to the side so that he could lean his head out. He stared at your blurry reflection in the mirror. “That’s such a half assed response, and you know it. Bull-fucking-shit. You wanted to live some perfect little life, and I didn’t fit the bill, right? I wasn’t good enough, so you cut me out like I never existed at all.” Your jaw dropped and you were quick to stand up and off of the bed. Your heart was beginning to pound again, your adrenaline kicking back up as he raised his voice at you. “I’m not going to accept that response, so you better come up with a better one, Y/n. We grew up together. You tossed me to the side like I was garbage and then only called me when you wanted me to knock a few of your ex’s teeth out.” He pulled the showercurtain shut roughly, the fabric rustling.

You didn’t want to fight. You didn’t want to play into this. You took a few steadying breaths, picking at the skin of your nail with your thumb before speaking up. “I don’t want to do this with you, Austin. Not tonight.” Even though he couldn’t see you, you still threw your hands up in the air. Austin had a temper. You should have known saying something like that would have gotten him riled up.

“No, I’ve waited five years for this conversation. Five. So no, this can’t wait until tomorrow.” You rolled your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose as you tried to keep your own anger under control. “Can’t you be a little bit more sensitive to the situation? Jesus christ, Aus. Tonight isn’t the night. Leave it!” He laughed then. Loud, uncontrolled laughter. The kind with absolutely no humor behind it. All emotions. “You’re crazy. . .” You mumbled under your breath, taking a step closer to the bathroom.

“Yes! Yes I am.” He was quick to snap back, supposedly hearing you even over the running water. “Crazy for thinking that you actually cared about me. I gave you the space that you so desperately wanted. . . but god dammit- I would have taken anything you had given me. You could have texted me. Emailed me. You could have called me from a payphone. Send me a mother fucking smoke signal! Scraps. You’ve got me begging for scraps, Y/n.” He was acting as though the two of you had been something more than just childhood friends. Nonetheless, your stomach still churned with guilt. You were beginning to feel like a wounded animal being backed into a corner. You were in the wrong. You knew that you were, but you weren’t going to be made to feel like an asshole twice in one night.

“Well fuck me for wanting a fresh start, Austin. Fuck me for wanting to feel safe for once in my god damn life! I knew what would happen eventually. I didn’t want to get myself mixed up in this fucked up lifestyle any more than I already was.”Could he really not see where you were coming from? He was talking about setting fire to a drug lord’s storage building like it was nothing. How could he not see how messed up this all was? “You knew what would happen? Meaning. . . you knew how I would turn out. Am I getting that right? You just knew I’d turn out like my father, so instead of mentioning it to me and giving me the chance to talk to you, you just disappeared. Yeah, cause that’s a normal response.” Your jaw dropped. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. “Are you really trying to tell me what a normal response is? Seriously?” He scoffed, but you continued. “You kill people, Austin. Kill them.”

He didn’t respond, but you kept going. “What you just said? It's a moot point. You turned out just like your father.” He was the one that had brought it up, so he didn’t really have a reason to be so angry. He still ripped the shower curtain back open though, sticking his whole torso out so that he could stare at you through the crack in the door. “Don’t you dare fucking say that shit to me. Don’t even try it.” His voice shook as he tried to keep himself from shouting. “You have no idea what plans I had for my life. You know I didn’t want to do this shit. You knew I wanted to try and get out too. It might have been easy for you, but it sure as hell wouldn’t have been that way for me.” Austin had always talked a big game while growing up, but he never acted on it. Was it so wrong that you never took him seriously?

“I thought that you were just blowing smoke up my ass.” You were torn. Seeing him again was nice. . . too nice. It made you want to stay and suffer through whatever aggression he had saved up for you. This was getting to be too much though. You didn’t have a way of escaping, and your boyfriend had broken your phone after he saw that you were talking to Austin. You ran a shaky hand through your hair, feeling your eyes well up with unshed tears. “I fucked up, okay? I did you wrong, I know. Can you not see why I did all of it though? Can you not see where I’m coming from, even just a little bit?” You kept your voice quiet and even, and it seemed to work. You could hear Austin taking steadying breaths. You knew that he cared about you- maybe even in a romantic way- but you had no idea that it was to this extent. You loved Austin. You had ever since you were kids, but you saw what kind of a person his father was. You didn’t want to put yourself in that situation. You didn’t want to end up like your mother, yet here you were, standing in his bathroom with a bruised cheek and an even more damaged ego.

“I would have gotten out with you. I would have found some way to hide the both of us. Burner phones, hideaway houses- anything. Fuck. . . anything.” He had probably stopped bathing a while ago. He was using the shower as an excuse to hide himself away from you. If he looked at you he was sure that he would break down. Get too vulnerable. The anger was steadily burning away, like alcohol to a flame, and all that was left was a crippling sadness. He leaned his forehead against the tile, closing his eyes tightly. You both knew where this was going, and neither of you were ready for it. It had to be said though. It couldn’t wait anymore.

You had to lean against the bathroom doorway, your legs feeling too shaky and unstable underneath you. “But now you’re in too deep.” Your voice was thick with unshed tears, the realization of the situation hitting you like a ton of bricks.

Because Austin loved you. And you loved Austin. He was caught in a trap, and there was no getting out. “I’m branded for life. I-I’ve done so much shit, Y/n.” He was trying hard not to cry. He hated crying more than anything, even if it was you that he was doing it in front of. He refused to appear weak.

You didn’t want to know how many people he had hurt over the years. How many people he had killed. “There’s no way you would have meant it, Austin. You would have eventually regretted it. I did what I had to-” “I loved you. I really fucking loved you.”

The words hung in the air for a second. Echoed around the bathroom and reverberated in your chest. There it was. The words the two of you had never had to say out loud because it had been crystal clear your whole lives. No matter who the two of you dated, it was always there. It was the reason why nothing ever worked out. Nothing ever stuck, and feelings never evolved. Because he was always there with that wide childlike smile and those big blue eyes. Austin was always there to save the day, always there to help you out when you needed him the most. He had never complained either. Not even once. No one could ever replace him. He had always been the love of your life, and for him it was the same. “I wouldn’t have left you. Not ever. I wanted a life with you. . . were you really that blind? Was I not as obvious as I always thought that I was? Do you need me to spell it out for you now?” You stumbled away from the door and into the bathroom, reaching out for the showercurtain and gripping it hard in your hand. “I would have risked my life trying to get the both of us-” You ripped the showercurtain back in one swift move, staring at him wide eyed.

He didn’t shy away from your gaze either. He turned to face you, his sandy hair clinging to his cheeks and neck as he looked at you. Despite all of the anger and all of the sadness that was settling into the pit of his stomach, his eyes still softened when he looked at you. It was almost as though you two were seeing each other for the first time that night. Really seeing each other. Austin looked at you like you were the only thing that really mattered. Like you’d hung the fucking moon. No one except for Austin had ever looked at you with eyes so sad and yet so lovely. You didn’t just hear the words that he had said, but you had felt them too. It sent your heart into overdrive.

You stepped into the shower, clothes and all, and wrapped your arms around him tight. You had done twenty seven years of waiting.

No more.

You pressed your lips against Austin’s, and the second that you did he had you pinned up against the tile wall, the cold ceramic pressing hard against your back while the water relentlessly streamed down your front. You were soaked within seconds, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was the feel of his warm, naked body pressed up against you. Your lips moved against one another’s in a furious display of passion- all teeth and tongues. The two of you kissed as though you had been doing it for years- everything fell right into place. His soft lips moved in sync with yours, warm water pouring into your open mouths, but you swallowed it all. You wanted to take everything that he was willing to give you. His strong hands grabbed at your hips, fingers pulling against your wet clothes that were acting like a second skin. He pressed even harder against you, breathing you in.

You took the opportunity to move your hands down his strong shoulders, to the muscles of his back, fingertips dragging against his skin as he softly took your bottom lip between his teeth, sucking it into his mouth. The noise you made spurred him on. He wondered how he could have survived so long without having you this way.

He felt that if you ever stopped kissing him that he might die. He needed you like he needed air. Your hands explored his exposed skin, fingertips pressing against every ridge and sharp edge of his muscle. They made their way down until they were pinned in between your chests, slowly inching inching inching- “Please.” He gasped into your open mouth, blue eyes opening to look into your own. He wasn’t above begging you. Wasn’t above falling to his knees if it meant that he could have you. Your fingers brushed against his length, thumb sliding along his head. It felt like the air had been punched out of him. The feeling of your small hand wrapped around his cock was almost too much. Because it was you.

You were touching him. You were touching him.

You pumped your hand a few times, eyebrows furrowing in concentration. He melted against you, leaning his shoulder against the wall as he pressed his forehead into the top of your head, nuzzling his nose into your wet hair. “Let me fuck you. God, let me fuck you.” His muscles shook as he tried to hold himself back. He squeezed his eyes shut so hard that he saw stars behind his eyelids. He wasn’t used to steering off his own urges. He was used to acting out on his anger. Acting out on all that hate that had turned him surly over the years. He felt you nod, and in a second he was fumbling to turn the water off. In the blink of an eye he had your legs wrapped around his waist, the two of you dripping water. He didn’t care. Not at all, because he had you laid back against the bed before you could even object. His eager hands were ripping at your wet clothes, peeling them off of you as quickly as his shaky hands would let him. His chest was already rising and falling at a rapid pace, eyes half lidded, lips a bright pink from your constant lip-locking. You let your eyes dip down, and god you nearly came just at the sight of him. You pushed your wet hair out of your eyes, arching your back as you tried to help him remove your pants. His eyes were darting across your body, trying to look everywhere- memorize every inch of you. “You’re beautiful. So, so beautiful.” He assured you as he slipped your pants down your legs, tossing them into a soggy heap on the floor.

You wanted to tell him to just go ahead and take you. You needed his cock inside of you.

You didn’t care about the foreplay. You just needed to feel him. You couldn’t think of anything else aside from him. Your mind was like a broken record. Because the sheer size of him alone was bringing you to near tears, but it was the desperation in his eyes that was your undoing. It was the way his strong, large hands shook as they danced over your body. They grabbed your hips, ran across your heaving stomach as you gulped back deep breaths, and squeezed your breasts tight. You couldn’t find the words to tell him that you wanted him to go ahead and make love to you. Couldn’t shape the syllables. Your tongue felt too thick in your mouth, and your throat felt like it was closing up.

He gave your lips a warm kiss, trailing them down your chin and along the front of your throat. He paused there, feeling your pounding pulse against his mouth, letting his tongue lap against the wet skin. The sensation of his lips against you had you tilting your head back, your thighs pressing against his length. The both of you moaned at the same, his deep voice vibrating against your throat. His hands moved down your body, sliding easily along your soaked skin. He stopped once he found what he was looking for- and good god you thought your heart was going to stop. Austin pressed his fingers against your folds, feeling your slick, feeling everything. “Ah, fuck.”

Everything about you was beautiful. Your body, your expressions, and the little noises he seemed to be effortlessly pulling out of you. The feel of you wasn’t enough though- he couldn’t survive off of that alone. He needed to taste you. He slid down your body removing his hands so that he could place them at your thighs, pulling them apart so that he could get a good look at you. You raised up on your elbows, watching him with half lidded eyes as he just laid there on his stomach and stared. If this had been anyone else you would have been self conscious, but you saw the look in his eyes. Saw the way his tongue darted out and licked his lips. “This is the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen.” He was in complete awe of you. He knew that if he ever got lucky enough to see you laid bare in front of him like this, that you would be beautiful, but this? It was too much. You were too much. Even if this was just a one time thing for you, there couldn’t be anyone again for him. Not after this. You had ruined him. Completely.

You had reached into his chest and ripped out his heart, and he was alright with that.

He separated your folds with his fingers, really drinking you all in before he finally pressed his lips against you. You were quick to cry out, back arching up and off of the bed as your hand flew down, gripping at his wet hair. He set a devastating pace, his tongue flattening out as he licked along your clit, two fingers moving up to slip inside of your entrance. His fingers immediately curled inside of you, pressing against all of the right places. You were glad that he didn’t have any neighbors, because you screamed. How long had it been since someone had taken the time to pleasure you? Too long. Your thighs tried to close, the pleasure becoming too much. It was building too quickly- and you didn’t want to cum yet.

“Stop. Stop- please.” He didn’t stop though. His eyes flew open, watching you as he felt your walls begin to flutter. He wanted to watch you come undone. “I want to cum on your cock- please.” That made him pause. You tightened around his fingers as he slowly pulled his face away from your core, his needy eyes pinning you down. “You asked so nicely,” He slowly pulled his fingers out, crawling back over you like a wild animal. His gaze was too heated. You had to turn your head to the side and shut your eyes tight. “Please, Austin.” He purred. Purred.

“Such a good girl,” He pressed his fingers against your lips- the ones that had been inside of you- and you opened your mouth. He pressed his fingers against your tongue, watching you hungrily as you sucked them clean. “So perfect.” He mumbled. You couldn’t take it. You’d never felt so needy in your life. Your quivering thighs moved to wrap around his middle, positioning him at your entrance yourself. That was the final push that he needed.

“Fuck! Austin!” You screamed as he thrust into you. Every. Inch. You couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t see. Couldn’t feel anything else but him. He was the only thing that existed. Your eyes shut tight, but the hand that wasn’t holding himself up quickly moved to your face, grabbing your chin in his hand tightly. “Eyes open.” And you obeyed. You hated authority. You always fought against it, but there was just something about him. You couldn’t deny him.

His hips snapped against you at a pace that you didn’t think was possible. He fucked you like he was hoping your bones would meld. Like he could somehow absorb into your body. He was inside inside inside. Pressing against every part of you. He continued to hold your face in his hand, his grip tightening as he let out a growl of pleasure. His eyes fluttered, mouth dropping open as he pressed you into the bed. It had been years since he had been with a woman, and even if he hadn’t the pleasure would still have been too much for him. Because you were his woman.

His one.

He raised up on his knees, reaching down to grab your hip so that he could take you with him. The angle. The angle. He was fucking you so deep that it hurt. Brought tears to your eyes. But it was good. Too good. His other hand reached out, grabbing the headboard for leverage, his torso leaning over you as his hips continued their near impossible pace. “Oh fuck.” He wished he could have taken a picture of your face, but he settled with storing it deep into his memory. He wanted to relive this moment. Again and again. His cock twitched inside of you, you bliss stricken expression almost too much. He didn’t want to cum. He wasn’t done yet. His hold on the bed frame tightened, and you let out a yelp as you heard the wood crack behind you. He hissed, clenching his teeth in pain as he felt the splintered wood dig into his palm.

You turned your head just in time to see a few drops of blood soak into the sheets, dripping off of his hand. Your eyes widened, and you were quick to turn your head. You were going to ask him if he was okay, but the second you saw the look on his face you knew that he was more than okay. The pain kept his orgasm at bay- snapped him out of it. He tightened his hold on the splintered wood, the muscles in his jaw working as he clenched and unclenched his teeth. After a second he put all of his wait on his knees, fucking up into you so that he could remove his hand. He took a second to look down at the deep gashes, licking his lips before his eyes found you again. He could have needed stitches- he didn’t care. He dropped his injured palm down to your neck, wrapping his fingers around your throat. You could feel the hot blood smear against your skin, and you weren’t sure why- but never in your life had you ever experienced anything quite so sensual. So personal.

Because he was marking you.

He added pressure to his hold on your throat, cutting off airflow. You reached up, clawing at his arms and his chest, mouth opening as you let out a strangled cry. You were cumming. You could feel it.

He could too. It pushed him to fuck into you harder, his large palm still pressed against your throat, two of his fingers moving up to pull at your bottom lip. He hooked his fingers into your mouth, pulling it open for him- and then he spit. Spit.

You swallowed it too.

Then you came undone. Eyes rolled back, head pressed hard against the mattress, and thighs quivering. He pulled an orgasm out of you so earth shattering that you were sure that you wouldn’t have been able to breathe, even if he wasn’t still choking you. Your walls clamped down around him, and that was all it took to have him following close behind. He came with your name on his lips. Again and again he said it, driving his cum deep deep deep inside of you. He loosened his hold on your throat, and you sucked in a breath, choking on it. Your chest heaved as you tried to regulate your heart, and he was in a sad state as well. He was gulping down air, blue eyes wide, his arms shaking as he loosened his hold on you.

Slowly he pulled out, looking down as he watched with grave interest as his cum began leaking out of your entrance. He moved his hand down, using his fingers to gather it up. Pushing it back in. For a few seconds the two of you just stayed there, staring at each other, trying hard to calm yourselves down. “L-Let me get a towel.” He could barely speak. His mouth felt numb and his eyes felt wet. “No,” You shook your head, licking your dry lips. You shut your eyes for a second, listening to the pounding of your heart and his panting breaths. “Leave it.”

“Okay. . .” He trailed off, and you opened your eyes just in time to see the realization dawn on him. “Okay.” His eyes softened, his lips twitching up into a small smile. You wanted him. All of him. It was acceptance, no matter how vague. You wanted this. You loved him. You loved him so much it felt like you might burst, your ribs aching under the pressure of it all. You were fucked. This life- no matter how messed up you thought it was- you could make it work. You would make it work, because it was Austin.

Your Austin.

@bookklover23 @medleyj @idkwhattthisisss @dharnwjs @slutforsomegoodlettuce @crackerbarrelslut @macey234 @nightfiress @keepdrivingrr @melodydior @luvvrrrrr @mymamalife @wwebby657 @shynovelist @ssstrangersblog @harrysthecraic @hangmanswhore @jyvnho @alqvarde @bcofl0ve @mslizziesblog @ggxsan @screaching-cookie @fantuhsise @areuirish @hxllvely @lelifesaver @milaa24 @meladollsims @poppet05 @shrekstheloml @randomwriter888 @idc123sworld @vane28282 @mirandastuckinthe80s @girlblogger2002 @rockerchick05 @screechingstrawberrysong @simpforevery1 @girlabirla @dre6ming @obetrolncocktails @fairyjanes @jensenswinchester @lo-bells

#austin butler #austin butler fic #austin butler smut #austin butler imagine #austin butler x you #austin butler x reader #austin butler x y/n #smut #austin butler elvis #elvis 2022 #foreverdolly #baz luhrmann elvis #self insert #elvis #elvis baz luhrmann #austin butler fanfiction #austin!elvis smut #austin!elvis x y/n #austin!elvis x reader

2K notes · View notes

sunnytarg · 1 year

Text

Yandere!Maegor & Yandere!Aegon I (Requested)

Note: I had to look up what Yandere meant so if this is bad I apologize. ♥️

Maegor

Maegor knows he wants you the moment he sees you. Which isn’t good for anyone involved because he saw you a feast your lord husband was holding over the continued health of the son you had bore him. This makes Maegor’s ears prick up even more and he watches every movement you make the entire night.

He has married several women and watched as he was presented with stillborn after stillborn but here you stood, beautiful, healthy, and fertile. He already had his plan in motion before the first course was finished. When everyone was falling into their cups and you and your husband would go to bed he would cut down your husband with his sword and steal you away. It was much easier than he had intended. He did have to knock you out but later when you awoke in a large room in the Red Keep he assured you he only did it for you. To make it safer to bring you here.

The very next day he insists upon a wedding and the faith know better than to argue with him on this, so less than 24 hours after your last husband was killed your being married to his killer. When you repeated the vows, you had looked up at your new husband with tears in your eyes and saw a look you weren’t expecting. Everything you had heard of Maegor was about his cruelty. How he never smiled unless he was burning people alive over torturing them. You even heard one rumor that he secretly had horns but when you look up at him you see a smile on his lips and it’s then that you notice how gently he’s holding your hands in his.

Life is different for you here then it was at your last home. You know Maegor has other wives but you never really see them as Maegor insists you stay in your new rooms. For your protection of course. Also for your protection he made sure that you were put into a room with no windows at all. You thought it was so you couldn’t escape and that’s part of it but Maegor has heard what the people below have called his other wives and he doesn’t want his new love to hear such things directed at them.

Maegor makes it a point to have breakfast with you every morning and visit you every night to ensure that you become pregnant. Despite seeing how fearful you are of him he’s sure that overtime between the meals and the nightly visits you’ll eventually love him back.

He’s even more certain of it when you begin to swell with the first child he plans to give you.

Aegon I (The Conqueror)

You were Aegon’s youngest sister. Younger than Rhaenys by two years and already betrothed to your mother’s Velaryon cousin.

You knew how you’re older brother could be long before he decided to conquer Westeros. Aegon was born a conqueror. To take things he wanted. You would have had to have been blind to not notice the way Aegon looked at you. When he’s drape an arm around your shoulder it wasn’t out of sibling playfulness but because he didn’t want you to stray from him. For years you had thought that he was going to break tradition and try and marry you.

So when he wed your oldest sister Visenya you were surprised. When he also married your other sister Rhaenys you were less surprised. She had been an object of his desire for many years and he wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to make her his bride as well. After their wedding you had a nagging thought in your head that wouldn’t go away no matter how many cups of wine you drank or how long you flew on your dragon. “Aegon is a conqueror and sooner or later he always gets what he wants.”

It little less than a year later your betrothed had come to visit you on Dragonstone. He was handsome and nice and loved to talk of sailing and other places he had been to. You devoured the stories as he told them not noticing the daggers your brother was staring into the man.

The next morning you had woken up and decided to go about your usual routine. It, of course, started with going to see your dragon. On the hike to the cave that your dragon liked to hole himself away in you noticed scorch marks on the ground. You weren’t one to shy away from a disaster so you quickly ran to the center only to find a charred body that could only be the man you were betrothed to.

You turned quickly to go back home and tell your family of the news. When you recounted the story to them they all seemed horrified until your brother flimsily waved a hand through the air and said that Balerion must have mistaken your betrothed as some goat perhaps while he was flying him.

It didn’t take you more than a second to notice the look on his face to tell that the death of your betrothed was no accident. Balerion, while large and power, was well behaved and always listened to Aegon. You bit your tongue as to not accuse him in front of everyone but any words you had thought to say to him in private vanished when he spoke his next words. “You do need a husband, though, and seeing as our lovely cousin has perished I think it only makes sense for you to marry me.” You watched as he frowned at the word lovely, “After all, who could love you better than I could.”

You had hoped that perhaps your parents or maybe your sisters might argue but none did. Instead you were wed to your brother the next time the moon was full. And when he woke from a dream one day and told you and your sisters that it was his job to bring Westeros together that small voice in your head started to chant “conqueror, conqueror, conqueror”.

However, he claimed that you were to remain on Dragonstone while he and your older sisters were to unite the kingdoms. He couldn’t have you in harms way and he didn’t want to people of Westeros to see his beautiful young sister-wife and think they could have a claim to her just because he already had two other wives.

You watched from the rocks on Dragonstone as your siblings flew away. One hand on your growing stomach and a weight on your chest knowing you couldn’t leave as Aegon had your dragon chained up until he could come back.

#maegor the cruel #maegor targaryen #maegor targaryen x reader #Maegor Targaryen x oc #yandere!maegor #aegon the conqueror #aegon i targaryen #Aegon the conqueror x reader #Aegon the conqueror x oc #house of the dragon #hotd #a song of ice and fire #fire and blood #yandere!Aegon the conqueror #yandere!hotd

845 notes · View notes

atarathegreat · 10 months

Text

Keigo Takami-Nesting

She loved him, the stupid girl. He just had some type of hold on her that she couldn't resist. Y/n had known it since she was a teen. At first, she thought it was a stupid crush until she found herself researching multiple birds and their many unique habits. Y/n only accepted that she was completely gone when she began finding little objects for his attention. Trinkets and such, anything she could get her hands on that would make his feathers puff up in excitement.

Y/n would never forget the day she walked through his open door. Keigo had been huddled in the corner of a filthy living room. The child was immediately drawn to his bright vermillion wings, the way he tried to hide behind them was strange and concerning for her. She kicked and climbed over the trash, sitting next to the boy and complaining about the cold. Keigo hesitantly moved to share his thin blanket and wings with her, he understood that the cold wasn't preferred. They kept him very warm while he was alone and Y/n was shivering and purple, maybe the heat of two people would be better than one. However, two kids left alone in a house drew the attention of authorities and the severely corrupted hero commission.

A memory forever etched in her brain was when Keigo fought his agency, that's when she truly fell for him. He fought for weeks to keep her from going into foster homes. Y/n needed him just as much as he needed her, and that made the commission cave in quickly and they paid for her to stay with him until Keigo became a pro. It wasn't just legally he fought for her, she'd seen how ruffled his feathers got when the commission tried to physically remove her from the building.

Keigo kept them together all the years they'd known each other, it was him that kept her spirits high when she couldn't see anything good in the world. Because, unlike the winged hero, Y/n wasn't outgoing and loud, though she never bothered to hide her emotions. She reminded everyone who saw her of a mouse, fine and healthy but frozen by incredibly new things.

"You should have more confidence in yourself!" Keigo always told her, pushing her cheeks together so her lips jutted out, "You're amazing! You just gotta see it in yourself!"

Y/n knew she would stick by the winged hero until she died, even when he was with a new woman every week. It killed her that she loved him, but he had no way of knowing. She hated the way her lungs would lock up when another woman introduced herself, or the way her tears soaked her shirt after said woman would go into Keigo's room with him. She always knew what was happening, from the sound of the door locking to the failed attempts to stay silent from the women. And he wouldn't know. Not until she screamed at the top of her lungs. Her anger was ignited by the commissions' stupid hero bullshit. Y/n was at her limit.

Keigo had come home early, strange for the man who was all over the place. Y/n hurried to help him with whatever he needed, mainly worried about injuries. Keigo made it a habit to avoid hospitals. "I'm fine, chickadee, just got my day cut short is all." Keigo laughed as the girl checked him over for cuts or bruises. She huffed, taking his jacket and scolding him for dragging mud in.

"Why the cut off?" Y/n asked, moving to sit with him on the couch, "You never agree to short days…"

The hero groaned, leaning closer to the woman and whispering, "The commission wants me to go undercover with the League of Villains."

Before she could even stop herself she whined in protest, covering her mouth just as quickly. Keigo chuckled, he thought she was adorable, "Me, too, actually. But, we both know I don't have any other choice. Sorry, kid."

Butterflies went off in her stomach every time he called her silly little names, she knew her face was beet red. Y/n couldn't help but love the birdbrain and the way he made her feel without even trying. Unbeknownst to anyone, Keigo loved her as well. He just couldn't bring himself to take away the adorable and innocent nature of his friend. As Hawks he could be flirty with her all day, he didn't have to hide anything. As Keigo he had to worry and keep her at a distance, not only were his fans a problem, but he feared that Y/n would be severely affected by his personas constantly changing. It even gave him mixed signals sometimes.

"Stay here with me, fuck the commission." She whispered, she'd never cussed before, it felt foreign to them both, "We can watch movies, play board games, and fall asleep on our couch. You'll come home late and I'll make dinner before you shower and go to bed. Nothing has to change."

Keigo sighed, moving to lean opposite of her, "I can't do that, kid, as much as I wish I could."

Y/n grew angry. Years of frustration, at Keigo and the commission, the girls he brought home… She kicked the coffee table over, raising her voice.

The argument lasted for a while. Keigo was trying to defend his job as a hero while she kept herself away from his personal life. It was hard for her, having everything pent up. Screaming it all out was like an anvil was slowly being pulled off her chest. She didn't care about the way Keigo kept his voice steady in an attempt to deescalate the fight or the way his feathers puffed up in anger, she wanted him to know all of her aggravations.

"And don't even get me started on your behavior when you aren't being a hero!" She blurted, rolling her eyes as he tried to replace the items on the table.

He stood to his full height, pulling his wings in as much as he could, "When am I not being a hero?"

Y/n knew he was daring her to speak, she never missed the way his pupils narrowed in anger, "When you're too busy banging random women in the next room over! Do you know how much that hurts me! I love you, and yet I have to listen to you get it every weekend!"

They both froze, Y/n covering her mouth. The tension in the air disappeared and all the anger was gone. She hadn't meant to shout that, let alone say it at all. It wasn't something he was supposed to hear.

"Sorry…" Was all she managed as she ran to the privacy of her room.

Of course, the hero didn't miss a single word that she had stabbed at him. If anything Keigo clung to her voice in his mind, her volume was shocking to him the most. And the pissed-off way she told him that she loved him. Keigo wanted her to yell more, wanted her to be angry again so he could see that fire in her eyes. He glanced around their little apartment. Y/n had picked out the tan wallpaper, he'd never gotten bored of it for that reason alone. The decorations were all her, too, though Hawks had paid for it all. He never cared how much she spent, he called it his way of giving her trinkets without anyone knowing. Confusion bloomed in his brain as he traced the shelf of things she'd gotten him; little rocks, shiny objects, and items she'd made while fidgeting in public. Keigo had always thought it was sweet that she dedicated a whole shelf for her gifts to him. A slight chuckle made Keigo close his eyes. Y/n'd been doing just as a bird would, giving him little things and making a nest to show her love. How had he never noticed? Had she even wanted him to know? He guessed no since she ran off after the argument.

Keigo slammed his head against the wall, she's been making our home, our nest, and I've brought other birds in. He nearly punched himself for being so stupid. For hurting her to that extent.

"Y/n?" He called through her door, knocking gently before opening it. His heart clenched when her noticed her form under the blankets, "Chickadee?"

Her sniffles came out in mock laughter, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up."

Keigo sighed, getting comfortable next to her under the heavy sheets, "You're more like a bird than I ever thought, y'know?"

Y/n groaned, hiding her reddened face, making Keigo chuckle and pull her back to him, "I'm sorry for bringing them onto our nest, I should've noticed it sooner than your breaking point."

To his delight she turned and curled into him, wiping her nose on his shirt in her own little defiant way, "You have to work for that forgiveness, Keigo Takami."

"Yes, ma'am, I'll start with dinner?" Keigo smirked, "How about some sushi and dango?"

Her smile was enough to send his heart into overdrive as she all but kicked him from the bed. Dango was her favorite and Keigo wasn't above using that to his advantage if it meant she smile

I'll just work extra hard so she doesn't change. Keigo thought as he helped her into his hoodie, appreciating her giddy demeanor, I've fought this far, right? What's the rest of my life, as long as she's there.

#hawks x reader #keigo takami x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #x reader #x you #female reader

158 notes · View notes

magical-girl-coral · 7 months

Text

Summarizing Mushishi Episodes Like Onion Articles - Part 2

Banquet at the Forest's Edge - Local business owner finds all those stories of people getting inventive ideas while on acid trips might have a good point after all.

The Warbling Sea Shell - Local dad is forced to admit that maybe isolating his only child from other human interactions might not be what's best for them.

Beneath the Snow - "I have never been better" says man who's terrible mental health has reached a level where it is affecting the weather around him.

The Hand That Caresses the Night - Local teen breaks family curse by admitting his father was actually massive shithead.

Mirror Lake - Local teen so damn annoying about her heartbreak that her own doppelganger had to put a stop to it.

Floral Delusion - Local man with a weird ass library and sketchy medicine is revealed to be a major creep, shocking no one.

Cloudless Rain - Local woman loses the ability to cry and somehow it becomes everyone's problem.

Wind Raiser - Local teenager runs away from home to become a professional whistler.

Valley of the Welling Tides - "Is breast milk secretly trying to kill you" and five other fascinating articles written by nutjobs.

Depths of Winter - Traveling man becomes a god's squeak toy for an entire winter and somehow comes out unscratched.

Cushion of Grass - Local orphan ruins an entire ecosystem by liking an egg too much.

Fragrant Darkness - Local family man finally escaped a time loop only to go straight back in it when the future doesn't turn out well.

Lingering Crimson - Top four fun stories to tell before bed that will make your children afraid of their own shadow.

Hidden Cove - How one codependent relationship between two women nearly turned their village into a hive mind.

Thread of Light - Local kid's anger issues mysteriously disappears after finally being allowed to meet his mother for the first time in ten years and gaining a healthy support network.

Sea of Otherworldly Stars - Local girl accidentally enters the twilight zone to get back at her sister.

Azure Waters - Local woman loses everything thanks to several water filled accidents and still manages not to develop a phobia around it which is a bigger miracle than her son being half fish.

Lightning's End - Local woman so bad at being a mother that the lighting that keeps striking her son seems like a better parent in comparison.

Mud Grass - Feel bad about your own brood? This family can't stop killing each other for five fucking minutes!

Tree of Eternity - Local man gains the ability to see into the past in the price of his legs by trying out this totally legal vegan meal.

Bonus:

Path of Thorns - "I am the most normal person I know" says man after confessing he hasn't had a soul in years.

Bell Droplets - Young girl believed to have autism was actually a forest child all along while still being autistic.

#Mushishi

84 notes · View notes

katherineholmes · 8 months

Text

Petrova Doppelgängers and Femininity

I'm not sure if the show runners and the writers intended to do this, but the Petrova doppelgängers are deeply entrenched in femininity. The one thing that all doppelgängers have in common is that they are always the sufferers. That they are powerful but only because they can be used. And that is exactly how the world has used women for centuries.

Amara’s cast in stone for two thousand years, being the anchor to the other side, her power used to hold up the so called supernatural purgatory. Tatia’s love is twisted, her blood is used to turn the men she loved into monsters. She had a child, presumably from a man who either left her or died. And then she’s killed by the lover turned monster for her blood. Katherine’s child is ripped from her, and when she tries to start a new life, she’s shown a beautiful, romantic future with a lord before it’s ripped away from her too. Before she sees her whole family slain. Elena is entrenched in grief and trauma, her loss is like Katherine’s, but where Katherine’s happened in a single night, Elena’s happened over three years.

Over and over again, the doppelgängers are used for the two most personal things - their blood and their womb. Having children that they can’t raise.

Amara falls in love with a man far more powerful than her and is condemned to an eternity of suffering and punishment for her crime.

Tatia is blamed for coming between two brothers and killed for her crime.

Katherine has her child ripped from her arms, seeing her daughter only once before she’s gone forever. She goes to England and dreams of a perfect life, emboldened by Klaus and his ‘romantic’ pursuit of her. Probably sees dreams of being a lady and a wife and a mother, for she’s a mother without her child.

But when she realises that these are just her dreams and tries to take control of her situation, she’s punished and has to see her entire family dead. Punished because she did not accept death and suffering. It’s telling as well, the way she’s portrayed on the show, the femme fatale, the ‘sexy’ one, the whore to Elena’s Madonna.

The only one who gets sent to hell for her sins.

Elena sees her parents die, Elena’s stuck between two brothers who love her face and her body and her compliance more than they love her. Who loses her aunt despite giving into Klaus and then becomes his human blood bag. Who keeps trying to save Stefan until he breaks her spirit, who keeps trying to save Damon despite how he takes away her right to grieve.

Amara, Tatia, Katherine and Elena are all sufferers. They suffer for their blood and their bodies and their wombs. They scream and are turned into victims, monster teeth in their throats, and iv lines in their veins and their blood turned to stone.

They are a representation of the most fundamental ways in which women suffer. Through their blood and their wombs and their hearts.

They are not powerful beings, yet their blood and suffering is of use to others.

And yet, they persevere. Amara who chooses her own death, and Tatia who had willingly given her blood to save Elijah. Katherine who takes her death in her own hands and lives. Refuses to suffer. Elena who plays the game and uses everything at her disposal to save everyone she can around her.

Just as all women do.

They all play a game that’s been rigged against them since the beginning.

They are one whose blood enables the existence of vampires and hybrids. Without the doppelgängers, there would be no vampires, there would be no originals, and no hybrids. Their blood is what sustains two entire species.

And so, in one way or the other, they win.

@sevensistersofsussex @amandamonroe @feralcherry @qvnthesia @jennifersminds

#elena gilbert #katherine pierce #amara #tatia #meta #petrova doppelgängers #the vampire diaries #tvd #the originals #they could’ve done a lot more with the doppelgängers #but it’s telling that they didn’t

85 notes · View notes

m1ndbrand · 1 year

Text

ānogar hen issa ānogar - blood of my blood

Summary: What happens when you betray your family - your kin? Genevere Targaryen was about to find out.

Warning(s): pure angst, tragedy, death of essential characters, Shakespearian-like(warning in itself) kinda gothic ngl; i'm sorry

The sounds of metal clashing mixed with screams and wails echoed from the walls of the Red Keep, women, men, children, no one spared, the gods weren't merciful tonight.

The soldiers run to each chamber in the castle, entering without any ceremony and killing anyone in sight. One of those soldiers was different.

Silver hair glistened and moved like liquid in the moonlight, some trails of red ran free down his sword and armour. His face was hidden of emotion like he was made of marble, a statue, calm and serene without any flaw, but he did borough one flaw, at least for him - his eye, or the insistence of it, slashed with brutality, the maimed prince, the One Eye prince in all his glory.

This eye, however, showed everything his face didn't - a beautiful violet, burning with hatred and rage.

If not for the slaughter happening, this would be considered an ethereal scene fit for a Renaissance painting, a beautiful knight, with white hair and purple eyes, the perfect picture of a pure Valyrian, dressed with ornamented armour showing his blood and status.

He did not stop to look around, his steps firm and direct, his eye never moving from its target - locked in - he knew where to find her.

And he did.

Standing still without making any noise he looks at her through the slightly open door, hugging her children that were bawling their eyes out. If looking close enough there was possible to see the sadness emerging from within his eye, but it was short-lived.

She rose away from the children and quickly, without him noticing, gives behind her back a goblet filled with some liquid to the children that were hiding them behind her form.

"Aemond"

He immediately looks into her eyes - he swears to the seven gods that he could still feel the summer wind on his face, a trace of a smile, trying not to giggle as they flew together, their tiny bodies glued together.

"Genavene"

She purses her lips together and feels her heart race, this time was different than the others, it was racing because of the fear of the inevitable, fear for her children. He takes a step forward and she shrinks a little but still stands tall.

Looking back at her children with glassy eyes she faces the silver-haired man again, with more posture, and her back straightens.

She could see the disgust on his face when he looked at the two children. The brown-haired little girl held her brother's hand like it was the last strawberry cake on the tray she loved so much like her mother, and the silver-haired little boy just kept crying as he finished the drink his mother gave him.

"You really think you could get away, sister" His words spat like pure venom. "He isn't even here, left you and your spawn at our mercy".

Toying with his sword back and forth he looks at the children that hide crying louder behind the woman. "let me just tell you dear sister - I'm no god, I have no mercy."

"Brother...please listen I-" his eye twitch and he lashes "Brother? Brother?! You don't even have the right to call me that!" The children start to cry even louder, scared by their uncle's wrath, they grab their mother's dress for dear life.

"You thought you could get away with betraying your family - your kin like that, bloody witch" he comes closer to the woman that just stares at him without moving an inch, his hand draws closer to her face and she gets ready for a slap. Instead, she feels his hand on her brown hair.

"Where did that child get the Targaryen hair, uh?" he twirls the lock on his finger "", it wasn't from your dear husband that - I'm sure of" snorting he looks at the little boy that still holds his mother's dress. Purple meets purple and for a second it's like he's looking at the past, in his chamber, trying new robes his mother made one of the best tailors on Essos to make for him, his reflection of complete boredom reflected on the mirror stares back at him.

His eye widened for a second as he finally understood.

Horrified, he looks at his sister and she is not meeting his eye, instead, she's looking at the empty goblet on the ground. He drops his sword and moves quickly to pick the goblet up. Smelling it just a little makes him immediately throw it away smashing something in its way.

Grabbing his sister's shoulders he desperately tries to meet her eyes, but she continues to look away from him, head down and defeated.

"No, Genavere please," he moves to catch her face, trying to catch her attention "please talk to me" his hands move to her face holding her to him, she finally meets his face, her eyes falling like she's about to fall asleep.

He's met with a minute of silence, waiting for her, for something, he didn't want to believe, he couldn't. The silence was too loud now and he finally looks at the twins. Both were on the ground, apparently sleeping, with their hands still united, the shock made him not listen to anything at all, not even the screams outside the room.

Kneeling he grabs the face of Visenya, he comes closer to hear her breathing - but there is none.

Swallowing a whimper that threatens to escape his mouth he goes to Baelon and checks for the boys breathing and nothing. The children were gone.

He stares at the two children, Visenya even as a child, could be seen that she was, in fact, her mother's child, the only difference was her purple eyes, Targaryen's eyes - definitely not that man's child - Baelon, the spitting image of him when he was little, even to the cry baby nature of him "no"

"Genavere" Aemond was kneeling close to the children, their children, looking at the woman he loved for so many years, waiting for at least a word from her.

She turns to him, agonizingly slow, and he screams for her to say something - anything! That it was a lie, that she did in fact betray their family, she betrayed him, that he was right to have done all those things to her and her children, that he didn't make her kill their children.

The only thing she did was close her eyes one final time and fall to the ground, a tiny whisper of his name went unnoticed.

Minutes passed and he was still looking at where her form was supposed to be standing. His face felt cold with stray tears, his eye unfocused looking at everything and at anything at the same time. Not thinking and thinking too much. His mind was in shambles.

He looks at their children and then finally at the mother of his children and he breaks down. Crawling to her he held her head carefully with his hands and got her body close to his, hugging her one last time, wailing at her hair, his face hidden, he looks at their children dead on the floor and he feels like the Stranger was at the window, waiting for him.

It is said that the place after all that massacre was cursed, the wails, and screams of Aemond Targaryen could be heard even after 100 years have passed, his soul trapped in the walls, fated to relieve that cursed day over and over again. He, calling his dragon Vhagar, screams Dracarys, killing himself as he burns the bodies of his family, as is the tradition of old Valyria.

There were whispers that Genevere was a witch, and before she took her last breath, she cursed his soul for all eternity. Their story is now a myth and a ghost story for all the little children in Westeros, of a father who, without knowing, kills his children and the woman he loved so deeply.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #house of the dragon #gothic romance #hotd gothic romance #hotd x reader #aemond x reader #hotd imagine #hotd #game of thrones #asoiaf #aemond x oc #aemond targaryen x oc #aemond x you #aemond x y/n #aemond x original character

134 notes · View notes

lesbian-cannibals · 3 months

Text

NBC’s Hannibal changed my life here’s why :3

(moderate spoilers you have been warned)

Overtly gay

So many shows have amazing queer characters but many of them refuse to make this explicit and only lightly imply it. First of all there are two women in this show who “straight” up get together. Hannibal and Will never actually kiss, however there are so many extremely homoerotic scenes between them that it doesn't make much difference. Will even directly asks Hannibal's therapist Bedelia if Hannibal is in love with him. Other characters in the show also joke about their relationship, referring to them as “murder husbands” or referring to Will as the bride of frankenstein. Another crazy line is when Will says he and Hannibal have “begun to blur” and he doesn’t know if they will survive separation. Will and Hannibal also have this thing where they are drawn to each other even to their own detriment, Will keeps coming back to Hannibal even when he should know not to. After all, you don’t go back to your best friend after they keep trying to kill and eat you.

Insanely cinematic

The whole show is just extremely beautiful. The transitions are amazing, and there are gorgeous shots of everything. The music is also a masterpiece and adds so much to the show. Hannibal is a cannibal, but he is also a very fancy cook which creates many moments where you know he’s cooking people, but the food is mouthwatering anyway. I cannot stress how cool the food in this show is, not only the finished dishes but you also get amazing shots of Hannibal cooking and serving the meals. And do NOT even get me started on the gore, it is simultaneously disgusting, showing just about everything in detail, and beautiful because of the strange and artistic presentations of the bodies. Additionally the show HEAVILY uses metaphors, especially to refer to Hannibal and Wills relationship and they both often speak in metaphors themselves which is a bit confusing but overall works very well.

Hannibal Lecter

All the characters in this show are amazing and have great development and stories but I will mostly focus on Will and Hannibal (shocker i know). Hannibal Lecter is a serial killer and cannibal for pleasure, he is labeled a sociopath but it is explained that this is somewhat inaccurate as he has no trouble socializing, and experiences empathy. However he isn’t really a psychopath either as he also experiences regret. We know that Hannibal ate his sister as a child but he says he did not kill her which is interesting (we aren’t shown much detail in this area). Hannibal looks down upon most people seeing them as being beneath him, although amusing, but he has no trouble killing them if he considers them rude. Will Graham is a rare exception to this as Hannibal is very interested in him and his mind. Will fears that he enjoys killing people and confides in Hannibal (who is his psychiatrist) about it which interests Hannibal. He still wants to cannibalize Will though because he doesn’t know how to be normal about his feelings.

Will Graham

Will has a lot of stuff going on, he mainly shows signs of being autistic, and he has an empathy disorder which causes him to be able to solve murders through heavily empathizing with the killers. His ability to empathize so heavily causes him severe mental distress when he spends too much time thinking like killers. He has nightmares and hallucinations, often about the “stag man” which is exactly what it sounds like. Also in addition it turns out he has encephalitis which makes this worse. The stag man is a wendigo which is an evil spirit originating from Algonquian folklore that causes people to have the desire to kill and eat other people. Here the wendigo likely represents Hannibal or Hannibal and Will's relationship, Will starts seeing it after the first murder by the Chesapeake ripper (Hannibal) which is a body mounted on antlers. Will likes Hannibal because he appeals to his darker side, and Hannibal won’t judge him for desiring brutal things. Also Hannibal is pretty manipulative and Will makes the mistake of letting him inside his head.

It’s basically a silly romcom

While it may not really be anything like a romcom, it is if you squint hard enough. Hannibal and Will's relationship is obviously very romantic in its own way. Also it’s best not to take the show too seriously all the time because it tends to be a little silly at times. The cannibal jokes are really funny.

#nbc hannibal #hannibal #did I just write an essay #enjoy this #if I messed up the details lmk #will graham #hannibal lecter #hannigram

52 notes · View notes

musicfeedsmysoul12 · 1 day

Text

Okay so Dragon Age/MHA crossover 1.

Izuku is the son of Solas and Mythal who was kidnapped by the other evil mages pretending to be gods (by stealing the names of their actual gods because I fucking HATE that plot twist in canon) and sent to the MHA world because Solas was leading a rebellion and Mythal was dead and they wanted to hurt Solas. So Izuku is raised in Japan by his adopted parents who sadly never tell Izuku he’s adopted and would aggressively pretend he isn't.

Izuku though begins developing magic in his teen years much like how in Thedas they develop them as teens. Izuku is convinced he's just a late bloomer. At least until then dreams start and he begins to see things. He is kind and curious, looking up what he sees and deciding it's like the Fae. He promises nothing and gives nothing. No deals either.

Then one day he stumbles upon what's left of Mythal (actual Mythal and not the fake who played with Solas like an instrument) and learns the truth. Solas is actually a God, the belief in him ascending him. Meanwhile the actual Gods got all the power while the fakes didn't get anything. This Mythal tells Izuku everything. She begs him to find his father to speak with him. She knows if he ever awakens he may see Thedas as nothing but a world of fakes.

Izuku travels in his dreams, hunting for his father. He goes to UA and still tries to find his father. He hunts and hunts for him. Eventually he does find Solas- who woke up a year before and is actively working to take down the Veil.

It takes a while for Solas to believe Izuku, until everyone is agreeing and pointing out the truth. But he refuses to listen to Izuku talk about how his plan is stupid.

Izuku by this time is twenty having lived through a war. He's lost friends, his adoptive parents are dead and he looks around at a world that hasn't changed. Despite everything they still have the same systems in place. They still are on the same damn wheel. Bakugou (who never changed. Izuku doesn't have OFA, no he has a Quirk that lets him do so much more and Bakugou can't stop seeing it as looking down. Can't be given trust that makes him look back on his life) is rising the ranks fast and his actions are pushed aside.

Izuku, age twenty, turns to his surviving friends and their teachers. Uraraka (down an arm but still fighting), Iida (still strong even after everything), Todoroki (alive and just as furious), Yaoyorozu (Burned and broken but standing) and Shinsou (mute now but applying the parkour he was given years ago to heroics) are all he has left as friends. Aizawa (lost a leg and an eye, lost his best friend, learned another was a puppet and lost his husband), Nezu (who tried his hardest to change society after what he went through but nothing has changed even now) and Midnight (who clawed her way back after being injured. Who has scars and stopped being ‘useful’ as a hero without being sexy) are the teachers left with Eri (shaking and scared as the hero commission pushes for training for her).

He asks if they would leave with him. They say they will.

So, a week after the Chantry explosion, a group of strange people show up in Haven. Two women, a child, and five men, along with a small person who is covered in a coat. One of them calls out for his father, Solas, who is shocked but delighted.

“I will not change my mind,” the elf warns his son. “You do not know how it was once.”

“I’ll keep trying,” is what Izuku replies with.

(he doesn't tell his father the one to strike down All for One after Mirio died, taking One for All with him, was Izuku. Doesn't talk about how he’d sobbed learning who the man was.

Doesn’t talk about how Midoriya Hizashi was a facade and that Izuku had loved him still.

He's killed one father for the world. He can do it a second time if needed.)

#bnha #bnha au #dragon age #izuku has pointy ears #things never changed #so they just left #a bunch of videos got sent to the media #and shit went down #nezu hides himself away #or well fakes being human #he hates it #but he hated their old world more #boku no hero academia #my hero academia

17 notes · View notes

15-lizards · 8 months

Note

please do more gender swaps omg how fucked up do u think the greyjoys would get. personally i just know fem aerons slay would be lethal

A bunch of fem Greyjoys in a heightened masculine culture I want to chew on this (also I know they’re diff races but we can just pretend they’re half sisters)

Bellona Greyjoy might be the worst but she’s also suffered more than jesus. Like she’s literally the eldest of nine daughters on the brutally aggressive and hyper masculine iron islands she’s allowed to be a little crazy. Had to develop a very blunt, abrasive, stubborn personality from an early age just to keep her head above the water. Did everything the men did and did it all at an earlier age, just to prove herself a capable heir. Fighting, sailing, and reaping were all learned very quickly. She took the Seastone chair after her father died during the rebellion, and managed to keep most dissent at bay. To please her vassals and to fuel her own pride, she had the islands return to the Old Way, shunning the reforms her father had made. This let her believe that Roberts rule was unstable and the kingdoms were ripe for the picking, leading to her own rebellion. Even after two children die and another is taken hostage she decides it’s a good idea to do it all over again nine years later. Leave her alone she’s mentally fractured.

Don’t say you like crazy women if you can’t handle Eydis Greyjoy. She never had to try as hard as Bellona, she just knew that she commanded power, fear, and respect without even trying (which means she’s especially insane). She commanded her own ships during Roberts Rebellion, but afterwards, there was quite a bit of trouble with her and one of Victaria’s husbands, leading to her banishment by Bellona, who never had much affection for her to begin with. She has since then been exploring and pillaging all of the known world with her loyal men on the Silence, claiming she has seen an experienced more than any other explorer ever could. After her elder sisters mysterious death (which coincides with her mysterious arrival) Eydis stands for the Kingsmoot, claiming she is the better choice than any of her sisters or nieces. The islanders, seeing her more as a bold and cunning man instead of a woman, they choose her for their king.

Victaria took a leaf out of Eydis’ book and became a respected soldier and captain without much effort due to her aggressive and brash character, but she lacks the cunning and wits of her elder sister. As dumb as she is, she is still a fearsome warrior, unafraid of death and even respecting her enemies who die with bravery. She follows Bellona without question, believing in the greatness of her elder sister. However she doesn’t have the same reverence for Eydis, hating how her sister would poke fun at her “womanly genius” in front of her own men. (There’s a lot of internalized misogyny going on on these islands if you couldn’t tell). All three of her husbands have died in and the only child she had was stillborn. She has salt wives of her own, but when Eydis seduced her third husband, she nearly killed her sister but she was banished instead due to Victaria’s fear of the sin of kinslaying. Her husband, however, was killed by Victaria herself, enraged that he allowed another woman to have him.

Aerona was once a wild, brash girl like the rest of her sisters. She enjoyed to drink and dance and juggle and jape, to flirt with her fathers men, to ride horses wildly, and to sail on treacherous waters. Her sisters often called her a better fit as the kings court jester. However, during her sisters rebellion, her ship was capsized and she nearly drowned of the coast of Fair Isle, washing ashore and being taken prisoner by the Lannisters. This near death changed her, becoming an ascetic, cold, hard young woman, taking up the mantle of a priestess of the drowned god. She spends her time preaching the path of her god, spurning any behavior which she doesn’t consider pious. Despite the iron islanders general lack of respect for women, she is widely revered for her priesthood and men often come to her asking for her blessings. She seems to enjoy none of her sisters, but is especially fearful of Eydis, running away when she comes back from exile

(Ignore the modern clothes I just wanted the face claim) (also yes I’m using the same pic from my other fem theon face claim but I just like it so much) Bonus Asha and Thea. Cocky asshole hostage Thea who wants to be the son her mother raised her and her sisters to be, but Bellona despises her for forgetting the old ways and assimilating to the starks. Doubly stings because she treats Asha like a proper son and heir but not her. Does everything for mommy’s approval and ends up a shell of her former shelf :/ causal Iron Islander Tuesday

#asoiaf #also Asha is still a girl bc I can’t bear to turn her into a man I just can’t #also Greyjoys matriarchal drama with no men involved is just too good #I need to find out who that Asha face claim is btw…need her

43 notes · View notes

allkordelia · 1 year

Text

Keep Me in Your Thoughts (2)

It was quite a late afternoon when everybody was doing their day-to-day task and their duties around the castle, the servants and handmaidens thought so, especially two new servant girls, meya and Alora, who were appointed to their new mistress rhaelle velaryon. The two girls wanted to introduce themselves to their new lady when they stop and heard arguing behind the oak door. The young girl, meya, moved closer to the door to her sister's displeasure as they both moved back at the sound of glass shattering behind the door, making the two sisters look at each other in confusion and unease before looking back at the door

Behind the other side of the door, rhaelle knocked one of her wine glasses off the table pissed.

"Must you behave like this...you are a grown woman and here you are acting like a child." Rhaelle had her hands flat on the table as her head low with her eyes squeezed shut, she was trying so hard not to speak out of term to...this man but her patience was slowly wary thin with every word he spoke.

"I am NOT acting like a child." She glared over at him, she hated when he said that to her even when she was a actually child it made her feel stupid and weak.

"You couldn't have fooled me," he commented crossing his arms and giving her a stern look, she faltered under his gaze making her look away to the table.

"Why are you doing this father? You promised me you wouldn't. Not until she was of age," she whispered.

"Valaena is of age. It is high time you started seeing her as such." Rhaelle frown at her father words.

"She is ten and one. She is too young to be married off...especially to him," she spat leaning off the table.

"Lord Boremund is a respectable man, and I know he will treat Valaena well as his wife. " She rolled her eyes in disgust, a respectable man isn't a word she would call her cousin, more like a belligerent ambitious fool that cares only for one thing.

"That man will do nothing, but use her as cattle to breed him heirs until it kills her." she hissed moving away from him to sit on her bed, she crossed her arms wanting nothing more than for him to leave and never bring up this again.

"Now you can see the future." Her father chided.

"No, but I do know men like him," she scold her father, "only the gods know that I spent my time around them long enough to know one, and being raised by one still doesn't prepare you to deal with them." she whispered the last part, corlys clenched his jaw in anger at his daughter words before scoffing and shaking his head.

"It is obvious that you need time to think about it, so I will leave you be," rhaelle watched as her father walked past her before stopping and turning to her.

"Come find me when your no longer....temperamental, my daughter. And maybe we talk like adults." Rhaelle growled lowly before taking off her shoe and throwing it at him, he glared at her as he dodge it making him yank the door open and walk out.

"Bastard." She whispered to herself putting her head in her hands, she heard a small knock causing her to look up to see two young women standing in her doorway.

"Can I help you?" She asked them, they looked taken back at her addressing them before coming further in and curtsy.

"Hello, m'lady. I am Meya and this is my sister, Alora, we are your new handmaidens." rhaelle looked at the two girls up and down.

"Hmmm, where are my children." she hummed standing, meya took the shoe she got from the floor and kneeled putting it on her lady's foot. Their young mistress thanked meya as the girl got back on her feet and held her hands in front of her while she talked.

"The triplets are with their septa, and last I check baelor was taking his afternoon nap." Rhaelle nodded, she looked between the girls before her attention went to Alora.

"He will be awaking soon, bring him to me and get some food from the kitchen on the way." Alora nodded before cutesy turning and walking but meya was stopped by rhaelle to help found her something to wear, Alora looked at her sister uneasy not wanting to leave her along with her new mistress not after hearing the rumors. Meya gave her sister a reassuring smile before motioning to her sister to go on, Alora sent a smile back before walking out and closing the door behind her.

"She's scared of me," rhaelle asked, meya looked at her with shock as her mistress looked at her.

"Only because of the rumors." rhaelle quirked a brow at her.

"Rumors?" Meya swallowed slowly not sure if she should tell her mistress of the things they heard from other servants.

"Yes, just silly rumors that's all." meya giggled nervously moving to the wardrobe to her mistress a gown.

"Not that one." Meya turned with a dark plum gown in her hand making her frown before putting it back, "What do they say about me?" rhaelle asked, meya chewed on her bottom lip as she looked for a gown, she was afraid to say what she heard fearing that she might get killed for it.

"How about this gown, m'lady." She held up a light blue gown in her arms making rhaelle nod and making meya walk up to her.

"Why are you avoiding the question, is it that bad that you can't say it, or are you afraid that I might harm you?" Meya looked at her mistress after putting the gown on the bed, the young girl opened and closed her mouth trying to get the words out.

"They say you are heartless and cruel, I heard that you feed your last servant to your dragon after she spilled tea on your new dress." Rhaelle brows shot up before a small laugh escaped her lips.

"Oh, that's funny..." she giggled wiping under her eye with the side of her index finger, " You need not fear I am not cruel or heartless it's just how I look...its the only way to keep people from taking advantage of you." She shrugged her left shoulder nonchalantly, meya nodded feeling a bit of relief that her mistress wasn't what they said she was.

"And as for my last handmaiden, she departed from us many moons ago," Meya looked at rhaelle with a puzzled look, "...spring fever. she been with me for fifteen years," rhaelle was in her thoughts thinking back to the old woman who took care of her from birth to adulthood.

"You two must have been close." Rhaelle wore a strained look.

"Not really, she wasn't the best person to go to when I was conflicted, and I will be lying if I said I didn't dance in joy at her depature from this life." Meya looked eyed wide at her mistress confession before clearing her throat and looking away.

"She couldn't have been that bad, m'lady." A small chill went down meya's spine when she made eye contact with her dragon rider mistress, rhaelle's lilac eyes held so much anguish that meya felt terrible regret for opening her mouth.

"Where are you from you have a slight accent that I detected earlier?" She asked changing the subject which made meya thankful.

"Summer Tongue is my native language from my mother and father, but my homeland is in the Black Sea." Rhaelle tilted her head to the side curious.

"Really." meya nodded.

"Yes, I believe you would know it as the serpent islands." A look of realization made its way to rhaelle's face, she remember the stories about the great islands that fought against Aegon and his sisters, just like dorne they couldn't conquer the islands. They had high mountains and underground tunnels that kept them safe and hidden from the dragon fire, not much is talked about the islands since somewhere along the years they made a alliance, and an unnamed targaryen female married one of the native ruler. Rhaelle wanted to ask more about the young woman's home but a knock came from the door causing the two ladies to turn to see otto walk in.

"Rhaelle."

"Husband," Rhaelle replied, he looked at her for a moment before his eyes glanced at meya causing the girl to clear her throat.

"I should see if the children are hungry, I'll be back to help you in your gown, m'lady." meya curtsy before walking past otto and out of the door, otto looked after the young woman before looking at his wife admiring the gown on the bed.

"I heard your father visited you, what did you two talk about?" He asked walking towards her.

"He came by informing me of our daughter's betrothal to lord boremund." she said in distaste making Otto's hands rest on her hips as he gave her a small frown.

"Is that not a good thing? Lord baratheon is a honorable man with land. I trust that our daughter will be in good hands." She groaned angry looking at him with a sharpe look.

"of course you would say that, she's a girl, she should be happy to know a powerful lord like boremund wants her, right? Forget the fact that shes a child and his twenty years her elder. " she chided before slapping his hands from her hips and crossing her arms with a scowl, otto sighed giving her a look.

"You know that's not what I meant," she hmmed with a irrated look, otto shook his head remembering why he came here in the first place.

"I did not come to fight but to ask a favor." Rhaelle furrowed her brows before looking st him, she usually doesn't get asked favors from otto he is the type of man to do it himself.

"What kind of favor?" She questioned.

"The council has been urging the king to find a new bride, he is conflicted between choosing between lady laena and another..." Otto said steadily, he looked at his lady wife wary after he mention her sister.

"Okay?" She draws out, she knows that viserys won't pick laena even if it would be a benefit for house velaryon and targaryen, he has standards, and marrying a twelve-year-old is a line he will not cross.

"The other lady in question is our alicent, she has been seeing the king since the late queen's passing... " Rhaelle shook her head at her lord husband and his ploy for power not at all surprised that her husband put his daughter in that position.

"I do not want any part of this I won't play any part in traumatizing that child for your benefit," Otto gave his wife a simple eyeroll.

"What I am doing is for the good of our family–" she cut him off with a jabbed response.

"You mean your house everything you do is for your house and your blood family, not ours. "

"You are part of my family so what I gain is what you and our children gain," She exhale softly, she always wished that otto stop manipulating the crown to get his way, it was bad enough that she had to listen and watch him do it and now she must participate.

"I don't want anything that comes from this, otto. All this going to do is cause bigger problems down the road." The back of otto's hand gently grazed her cheek making her lean into his touch, one of the things he admired about the young woman in front of him was her brain and sometimes her heart.

"All I ask is for you to talk to her, she needs a mother to tell her about womanhood and what to expect and do once she is...married." Even though he didn't say what he wanted to say, she knew what he wanted to talk to alicent about truly.

"Is there nothing I can say to convince you to not make her do this?" She asked, otto shook his head slighly before pressing a kiss to her cheek giving her her answer.

"She's in her chambers now, I'll come back later to hear all about it after my meeting." She sigh giving him a curt nod, he walked out leaving her alone in the middle of her room with a heavy heart.

Alicent was sitting on one of the small chairs in front of her fireplace, a small knock echoed through her room tearing her eyes away from the fire.

"Come in." Alicent stood up with her hands in front of her with her back straight expecting her father, instead, rhaelle walked in making alicent relax to see her stepmother.

"Hi. I hope I didn't come at a bad time." Alicent shook her head no with a small smile glad to see rhaelle, the young girl blushed when rhaelle planted two kisses on both of her cheeks before they took a seat.

"Did father ask you to come here?" she asked shyly looking at rhaelle through her lashes, rhaelle sighed with a nod rubbing her hands up and down her thighs.

"I fear so, he told me about how you have been visiting the king as of late," alicent looked away from rhaelle gaze not able to look her in the eyes out of shame.

"Are you angry with me?" She asked sadly looking at her stepmother with a small frown that broke rhaelle heart.

"No, my sweet girl. You are not at fault here...I know that your father put you up to this." Alicent glanced back to the fire as she pick at her cuticle causing them to bleed, rhaelle noticed and used her foot to move the hassock, so she was sitting closer to alicent to grab her hand.

"Give me the word and I'll send you far away from all of this..." she motioned with her eyes at the room and this situation, "I have a good friend who lives in the north and has a sweet son a bit dim but sweet nonetheless." rhaelle smiled hearing a small giggle past through her lips, alicent gave her a grateful look as she squeezes rhaelle's hand.

"Thank you. I'll remember that when my father and husband become too much." they both giggle again for a moment, they grew into a comfortable silence as rhaelle held alicent's hand in her lap while staring into the fireplace.

"His going to choose me tomorrow, isn't he." alicent spoke up first with pain evident in her voice, rhaelle looked over at the young girl who looked back at her with tears in her eyes, alicent sniffed when her stepmother nodded causing her to swipe at her cheeks and eyes before keeping her hands still over her face.

"I'm so scared." alicent mumbled, rhaelle watched hopelessly as her fifteen-year-old daughter broke down, the mother in her grabbed her hand pulling her into a hug as the girl found comfort in her stepmother's touch, she wished in all her might she didn't have to do this but the dutiful wife that she was made to be had no choice but abide by her husband request.

"Don't be...with a bit of wine, it will be over and done with before you know it..." she said, alicent pulled back wiping her eyes, and letting out a shaky breath.

"Will it hurt?"

"Only for a few minutes." Alicent nodded, she went about squeezing her hands together nervously before speaking again with an uncomfortable look.

"How must–How do I...pleasure him? What should I do to make him...happy. " She asked, rhaelle looked at her conflicted as she shook her head.

"Nothing. It's just better if you just lay there and let him do all the work." Alicent furrowed her brows at rhaelle's words.

"But, father said–"

"Forget what your father said, and listen to what I'm telling you..." rhaelle's hands were now clenching her dress vex at the nerve of otto to have her tell alicent how to please the king, she even angier at herself for mistaking his favor as a request to prepare alicent for her wedding night.

"The less you do the quicker it's over, believe me, you do not want it to last longer than it has to," rhaelle tells the girl, but alicent shook her head.

"I know what you're trying to do and I appreciate it, but I have a duty to my house and my father. I must know this...please rhaelle..." the girl begged, rhaelle could see the desperation in her eyes, it caused a dull pain in rhaelle that otto put these thoughts in his daughter's head making her think she needed to put her emotions and morals aside for the sake of duty. Rhaelle looked at alicent for a few moments before glancing away to stare at the fire, alicent's eyes shifted searching rhaelle's face to find the woman upset and solemn. Alicent sigh disappointedly that she upset rhaelle, not only that but she disappointed her as well.

"Um..." rhaelle cleared her throat catching alicent attention, "Viserys is a gentle person...so you do not need to worry...about him being rough with you," the young woman didn't look at alicent as she told her this, her eyes trained on the fire that danced in front of her.

"When your with him...it is good that you show that your enjoying youself, it makes men think their doing something right." Rhaelle grimace as she told alicent these things, she looked over to her stepdaughter to see her looking a bit uncomfortable, "You should make sure you kiss along his neck...that's where you found their sweet spot, once you do they melt like butter in your hands." Alicent nodded understanding making rhaelle continue.

"It is best–in my opinion–to-uh-rake your fingers through his hair more specifically his scalp during...or after sex, I don't know why but they liked that–well your father did," Rhaelle squeezed her eyes shut shaking her head can't believing these words were coming out of her mouth, she feel dirty for even saying all this, "...and praise him a bit, you know a little 'your amazing' here or there will go a long way."

"And when it gets too much you can just close your eyes and just lay there and think about something else, like me...I imagine I was back home in diftmark on the beachgrass laying with Rhaemyx." Rhaelle had a small faint smile reminiscing about her old life before all of this.

"Did...Did you ever think about someone else when you were with my father?" alicent asked hesitatedly curious, rhaelle side-eyed her stepdaughter when a memory of daemon flooded her mind. She remember him smiling as he hovered above her, his eyes held so much emotion it sometimes made her cry uncontrollably at the fact that he was the only person at the red keep that truely cared for her.

"...sometimes." She confessed, alicent nodded slowly before speaking up again.

"Thank you, Rhaelle. This help me very much." rhaelle finally faced alicent giving her a small smile before getting up, she gave her stepdaughter a sweet kiss on her temple.

"You should get some sleep, my sweet girl. I'll come by in the morning to talk some more, okay?" alicent nodded before giving an equally sad smile, rhaelle let out a small hum before bidding her goodnight and walking to the door.

The wood in the fireplace crackled as sat in her nightgown on the couch with her legs up reading, she had been waiting for otto to get back she turned her to her bed from time to time to see if baelor was still asleep before going back to her reading. She looked up again not a minute later to her door opening she held her finger to her lips motioning to the sleeping child on the bed when she made eye contact with Otto, he quietly shut the door and made his way towards his rhaelle making her move her legs from the couch to give him space to sit.

"How was your talk with Alicent?" After setting her book on the table in front of them, she had her hands in her lap giving her husband a look.

"It was okay expect for the fact that I had to tell her how to pleasure a man...the king no less by the way." She gave him a annyoed look, he looked at her with a slight sheepish look.

"Apologies, lady-wife. I knew if I told you the real reason why I wanted you to talk to her, I knew you try twice as hard to convince me to change my mind." She snorted quietly, she moved her hand to play with a loose thread on the couch.

"As if I can convince you to do anything." He looked at her a moment.

"You be surprised." Her eyes glanced up at his green orbits before looking down at the couch again letting out a soft hum, he let out a sigh as he looked around the room before glancing at rhaelle again.

"After 10 years of marriage, why haven't we done this before..." rhaelle raise her brow at her husband.

"Do what?" She asked confused, otto motions with his hand between them.

"Sit and talk. We used to at the beginning of our marriage, but we stop...why?" rhaelle shrugged her shoulders before speaking.

"I don't know I guess you got busy with being the hand and I..." she stopped herself remembering why they never spend that much time together, he occupied most of his time being with the king while she spent most of her days with daemon, "...I was busy with the children and whatnot," she said dismissively looking back at the couch, otto stared at her knowing that wasn't fully the truth.

"What is it? Why are you looking at me like that." She questions him.

"I never...apologized for what I put you through did I," she scrunch up her face at his words growing confused about why he was saying this.

"I never expected you to, and I still don't." He narrowed his eyes at her softly wondering.

"Did you love him?" he asked, rhaelle stared at him with a blank look.

"Why are you doing this–"

"I just wish to know...did you love him." rhaelle exhale out her mouth before rubbing her temple.

"No, I was lonely and he was there to make me feel less alone." she lied going back to her book, as otto made a deep hum sound.

"Did he make you happy?" She nodded not looking at him this time making him let out a sound.

"Good. I'm happy that he did...only the gods know I couldn't," he said the last part lowly, rhaelle looked at him seeing the look of sadness on his face, rhaelle frown a bit before speaking.

"You made me happy...some days." He quirked a brow at her.

"Did I?" She nodded closing her book and turn a bit towards him.

"Of course, you made me happy every time you played chess with me, you made me happy when you took me to oldtown and brought me that beautiful emerald ring..." He smiled as she listed off the things that he did for her or with her during the first couple of months of their marriage.

"And the happiest moment of all was when you made me a mother and gave me our beautiful children." He smiled at her words making her smile, she looked at otto and wondered why she do it, why did she had to reassure him that he was a good husband, sometimes she told herself that it was because deep down she loved him. But, when she remembers who he is, she just tell herself that it was embedded in her by her handmaiden.

"Your words are too kind, lady-wife." He said.

"Well, I'm a kind person...to an extent." He chuckled along with her, before he stared at her with kind eyes making her look away.

"Thank you." Her heart flattered, that was embedded in her too, no matter how horrible or disgusting a man treat a woman he claims to love, something deep down inside them still want that man to love her.

"Of course." She gave him sincere smile before looking away and rubbing her eyes and sighing, she got up abandoning her book on the couch before looking down at Otto.

"Will you be joining me and your son tonight in my cozy bed, or are you going back to your chambers." She asked looking at him, he looked at her for a moment thinking before nodding.

"Why not, my bed is too cold and lonely to lay in anyway. " She shook her head with a slight smile before reaching out her hand to pull him up, she put her arm around his waist and his arm went around her shoulder as she helped him to his side of the bed.

"My poor lord-husband, your legs aren't what they use to be." She just made him give her a look.

"Your old man comments hurt my heart, my dear."

"I'm sorry, lord-husband. I could not help it, and for your heart, it will be fine it did live through the first dornish war, after all." He pinched her hip making her giggle and pull away and walk to her side not before closing the curtains around her bed, she got settled in watching otto do the same as he laid on his side with his face towards her. They looked at each other within look before baelor shifted in bed and cuddled into otto's chest, the sweet scene made both otto's and rhaelle heart melt.

He looked at his wife as he raised his arm wanting to join them, she obligated as his arm fell to her side. She planted a kiss on her son's head before closing her eyes trying to find sleep, otto stayed up his thumb caressing her back luring her to sleep while he watched over them. A ping of guilt settled in his gut and made him stay up, he couldn't allow himself to feel happy or content with rhaelle. It was bad for him and his blood family...love was a dangerous thing even though it wasn't truly love that he felt for rhaelle, it was more like care...he cared about her and she before he allowed the king to use her as his concubine was his friend. But, they somehow worked it out for the children's sake and she didn't forgive him but he did work his way to try to be a better husband to her, which was his mistake, he should have kept it simple but he was just a man and a man needs a woman to stay sane.

Otto sighed lowly stressed before he turned his head to rhaelle sleeping form, he hate feeling this way about her but when the morning comes the feeling will eventually go away and he will no longer have to deal with or see rhaelle velaryon anymore.

@beggarsnotchoosey @cleverzonkwombatsludge @green-lxght

208 notes · View notes