#COOPER GRIP - STRIPE

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Daddy Lessons 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Rafe Cameron

Summary: You agree to tutor for the Cameron’s, but find your student less than cooperative.

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You slap your hand around Rafe’s wrist, panic surging in your throat. You can’t breathe. You bring your other hand up as you turn in the seat, trying to dislodge his grip as he squeezes tighter. So tight, you feel your eyes bulging.

You smack his shoulder desperately as tears fill the brims of your eyes and the chair tilts with your struggle. He lets you go as you wrench back and topple off the seat completely. Your back hits the floor and knocks the wind out of you a second time.

You wheeze and cough as your throat burns. Rafe chuckles as you hear the pages flutter and he throws the textbook. It lands on your stomach and you groan.

“Tell you what, dork, whatever my dad’s paying you to ‘teach’ me,” he puts a special lilt on teach, “I’ll pay you double to shut the fuck up. You sit there, do whatever it is nerds do and I’ll be on my phone.”

He kicks the chair as he gets up and stomps around the table. He resumes his seat on the other side as you sit up. He swipes his phone into his hand and goes back to flicking the screen with his thumb. You get up silently, holding back another wave of tears as you try not to shake. 

You pick up the book and bring the chair straight. You lower yourself onto the seat and put the textbook beside your laptop. You stare at the screen but can’t read the font. You’re terrified.

All those years, you saw Rafe swaggering down the halls, calling kids names, pushing the nerdiest of the punch into lockers, but he’d never hit a girl. Not openly, though he never had a problem bashing any boy smaller than him.

“If you’re gonna cry, keep it down,” he snickers, “you’re not hot enough for that.”

You blink and stare at the screen. What do you do? Pack up and go? Tell Ward it’s not going to work out. He’ll be disappointed but he can afford someone who wasn’t a former victim of his son’s high school foliies.

You close the laptop and grab your bag, tucking it inside quietly. You’ll just have to break the news to your parents. You’re unemployed, again. That didn’t last long. You hook your knapsack over your shoulder and stand.

“Giving up?” Rafe scoffs without looking up from his phone, “typical.”

You don’t say anything as you round the table and head for the door. Before you can step into the entryway, a searing pain in your scalp lurches you back. You cry out as Rafe drags you into the dining room and pens you in against the table. He fists your hair as he snarls at you.

“Don’t you fucking go tattling on me to daddy,” he growls. “Don’t be a little bitch and sit the fuck down.”

“Let me go–”

“I was fucking serious. I’ll pay you to mind your goddamn business. My dad wants me to read these damn books, so you tell him I read them,” he sneers, “but it’s gotta be fucking believable so go on and sit.”

“Rafe–”

“Don’t you fucking call me that,” he spits, “I don’t wanna hear my name on your fucking lips.” You flinch as he yanks your hair, “we got a deal or what?” His eyes drift down to your striped tee shirt, “you could use the money.”

You gulp and glance past him. What other prospects do you have? Sit at home and face the music and have no money or sit here in silence until your time is up.

“Ow,” you squirm, “I– I’ll do it but– let me go.”

He abides as he rolls his eyes and shoves you away from him, “god, you’re fucking whiny.”

“I’m not… I’m not going to stay if you keep doing that–”

“Ah, come on,” he slurs, “tell me it doesn’t get you a little hot. I know you ain’t had other guys up on you.”

That hurts in a different way. You try not to show it as you back away from him. This isn’t a good idea. He’s not exactly stable and you don’t really trust him. Even if he doesn’t follow through, money is money. Besides, he seems more interested in that phone than you.

You go back around the table and sit. You pull the textbook close and Rafe narrows his eyes at you. You raise a palm, trembling despite your efforts.

“To make it convincing,” you say and exhale heavily.

He grumbles and drops back into his seat. You set your bag on the chair next to you and slip your laptop out once more. You pop it open and listlessly drag your finger over the trackpad. You still don’t have the wifi. Solitaire it is.

You yawn and lean your chin in your hand. The tension remains. It’s silent but for his occasional snort or mutter at his phone. He’s just the same as he ever was. The popular kid defiant to everyone and everything around him.

You wish you could be that reckless. Well, you can’t just fall back on daddy’s bank account. You have to work to get top marks just to afford your tuition, but the scholarships don’t pay for your books or your housing. That’s all up to you and what little your parents can scrape up after their own expenses.

As much as you hate his privilege, you envy it. Maybe you would be like him if you had that. Maybe you wouldn’t care either.

You click away at the cards, stacking one on top of the other. You look at the time. Not even twenty minutes in. You’re scheduled for two hours. This is actual torture, even triggering. The last thing you wanted to do was revert to high school. Graduation was the happiest day of your life because it meant you never had to see those people again.

Or so you thought.

Rafe chuffs and lets out a groan. You don’t look up. He’s already proven he’s unhinged, it wouldn’t surprise you if he had full conversations with himself. He knocks the table and another long drone escapes him. The table jolts a second time and your laptop bounces. You sit up to see above the screen.

Rafe aims his phone at his lap. The way his other arm you can tell he’s holding his… you know. What the hell?!

You’re too embarrassed to call him out. You hope at least he doesn’t actually have it out. Oh god, he really has no shame. 

You win and the cards stream down in celebration. Rafe makes another noise. A deep rasp that catches in his throat. Your skin is on fire. You should have left. 

“Uh, where’s the bathroom?” You ask as you get up.

“Dammit,” he growls as he pumps his arm furiously. Is he– “I’m about to–”

Your mouth falls open and you stumble. You panic and quickly turn, nearly sprinting into the kitchen. You stagger through another doorway and down a hallway. You find a half bath and lock yourself inside.

You can’t unsee what you just saw. Why would he do that right there across from you? He’s sick and twisted!

[sexy-monster-fucker]

Consorts [Part 4]

The Ghoul|Cooper Howard x F!Bounty Hunter!Reader

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // <- -> // Part 5 //

Summary: This is a direct follow-up of Part 3. Cooper and Reader share some intimate moments.

CW: SMUT, biting, oral f!receiving, SEX DUH, cream pie?

a/n: the chapter everyone has been waiting for :D, lol this chapter is all smut, if that's not your thing you don't have to read it. not that anyone reading this story is reading it for the plot lmao

~~~

You forced your eyes shut. Tension was heavy in the dark room.

You laid on your side, your bad shoulder up. Your mind was racing. Just as soon as you felt like you were getting comfortable again, things got delicate between you two.

No matter how hard you tried, you could not rest. Maybe it was stress from the day ahead or maybe it was because you felt like you pushed him away.

Suddenly, you felt his weight on the bed behind you. His barehand snaked around your body, resting on your stomach. You felt him fit to the curvature of your body. Completely flush against your back.

Hot breath tickled your neck. His lips were against your ear, "You don't play fair, you know that?" You attempted to look over your shoulder at him, "What... do you... mean?"

"Don't play dumb, now," his lips inched closer to your skin, "Stripping down to hardly nothin' right in front of me... laughing at my jokes, fluttering those lashes at me." You could hear how he gritted through his teeth. You could barely fight the smile creeping across your lips.

Desperation painted how he gripped your body. He took a deep breath against your skin, tightening his grip on you slightly. You rolled your hips slightly, rubbing against his groin. He grunted slightly at you.

A soft kiss was placed on your skin between your shoulder and neck. Chills trickled down your entire body.

There was a silence between you two.

You rolled onto your back, turning your head to look at him. He pulled away from you slightly. You stared into each other's eyes now. His mouth was hung open ever so slightly as he admired you in the dimly lit room. You took his hand in yours, intertwining fingers in front of your chests. Cooper exhaled deeply. Almost as if he had not been breathing. He placed a kiss on the back of your hand. A smile danced across your face. He took his hand from you, cupping your cheek with it. His thumb caressed your cheek. His eyes darted between your eyes and your lips. He leaned in placing a kiss to your lips. You closed your eyes, deepening the kiss with him. He rested his forehead against yours, a chuckle falling from his lips. You smiled at him.

Cooper crashed his lips back into yours, his tongue venturing into your mouth. Your tongues danced inside each other's mouths momentarily, your teeth clanking together in desperation to be closer to each other. He mounted himself on top of you, hands on either side of your head. Eyes staring into each other unable to think of words to say. Both of you caught up in the heat of what was happening.

Almost unsure if this was another dream of yours.

His lips gently went to your exposed collar, kissing every inch of skin you bared. He licked a stripe up your throat, ending with a kiss on your jaw. A shaky breath escaped you. "m'I making you nervous, darlin'?"

You shook your head, smiling at him, "Only in a good way." Your voices were not above a whisper. Deep brown eyes that darkened as his lust took over him stared into yours. He grazed your cheek with the back of his knuckles, admiring you in the pale moonlight. Your good hand went to caress his face, thumb running along his prominent cheek bone. He went back to kissing your skin, trailing down your body. Stopping his lips right above your pantyline. He hooked a finger under the elastic band, snapping it against your skin. "Sure are pretty," he praised. He ran a finger down your clothed slit. You squirmed under his touch, arching your hips. "You like that?" You nodded viciously, swallowing the lump of arousal in your throat. He agged you along, running his finger outlining your panties.

You took all you could handle of his teasing. You needed him now.

"Cooper," you pouted.

His breath hitched in his throat. You watched him roll his shoulders clearly not used to people using that name on him, let alone with such a sensual tone behind it.

He sunk his teeth into your exposed thigh, his tongue lapping at the skin. You jumped slightly at the contact. He quickly replaced his teeth with his lips, kissing up to your soaking panties. He grabbed your garment between his teeth, pulling them down your legs. You swore you had never seen someone do something as attractive as that. Sweat beamed down your body at how turned on you were. You felt his breath against your opening, your legs shaking with excitement.

"You want my mouth, doll?"

"Yes," you moaned.

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, please. Cooper, please," you begged.

"Fuck, that just rolls off your pretty tongue," he purred.

His mouth found your throbbing nub. Your back lifted off the bed slightly. In his many years of living, he definitely knew how to please a woman. Your hips rutted against his mouth.

"Don't hurt yourself, sweetheart. I need you in good shape for tomorrow," he breathed into your core. You tried your best to relax your body, but pleasure was taking over you. You had to fight all the noises you wanted to make. Your hand flying up to cover your mouth.

"Now, now. I want to hear all those pretty noises you make," he scolded you. You took a deep breath before relaxing. Moaning his name over and over again.

"That's it. Good girl," his tongue was working your body almost over the edge. As soon as you were about to unravel, he stood up. A frustrated whimper left you at the loss of contact.

He dropped his jacket to the floor, unbuttoning his shirt and dropping his pants. Revealing his fully erect cock. Even in the darkness you could see how it rested against him. He crawled on top of you, his cock teasing at your now aching opening. The head bumping into your soaked folds. He was killing you. You needed him worse than ever.

His lips hovered dangerously close to yours, "Can I fuck you, beautiful?"

Your throat ran dry. You could not find your words no matter how hard you searched for them. Your mind was screaming yes at you, but you could not form words. You stared up at him slack jawed.

He cocked a look at you, awaiting your response. His tongue darting out to wet his lips as he stared at your beautiful face.

"C'mon, sweetheart. I need to hear you," he encouraged.

His lips fell to your jaw, causing his cock to prod at your opening further. You felt chills dance down your skin. He tenderly kissed along your skin, giving you time to find yourself.

You never were one to get like this. Even being held at gunpoint, you always were able to speak. But Cooper had a certain kind of effect on you. One you longed for and admired in him.

"Cooper?"

"There's that voice," he teased, kissing you on the lips.

"I need you," you pleaded.

He cooed at your words. Sucking his teeth before raising back up.

"Don't let me hurt you, now. Once I get going I won't stop, I need your shootin' arm ready for tomorrow," he grabbed the base of his cock positioning it at your opening. He ran it up and down your folds collecting your juices on it.

Cooper eased his way inside you, taking the time to make sure you could adjust to him. He bottomed out inside you, groaning a noise of satisfaction. "Fuck, better than I remembered," he rolled his neck. You moaned feeling his length inside you. He began a soft rhythm inside you. He stretched you perfectly, the slight curve of him hitting a spot deep inside you.

He leaned down so that you were face to face, sharing hot breath as he pumped inside you. He pressed his lips into yours, holding them there as he quickened his pace. With each thrust, a whimper would fall from you. Cooper grunted as he continued.

"You're too good," he praised in your ear, heavy breath in between each word, "Can't let this go."

You were unsure if he meant you or the sex, right now you truly didn't care.

You both were becoming lost in ecstasy. Cooper's lips rested on your neck now. One of his hands found its way down your body, rubbing circles on your clit. You could feel your orgasm approaching rapidly. You threw your head back into the mattress, screaming Cooper's name.

"Yeah? Goddammit I love the way you say it. Want to hear you scream it all night," he rolled his neck, swallowing heavy.

"I'm so close, Cooper," you moaned with a whine.

"Good, good. Cum all over my cock. I'll fill you up real good right after," he promised a moan on his tone.

The coil in you was wound tight.

Cooper's fingers picked up their pace.

You felt yourself unravel around him. Your walls fluttering and gripping his member perfectly. Cooper threw his head back, praising you, your name a groan on his lips.

Cooper's pace almost doubled, his thrusts becoming harsher and sloppy. You screamed with each brutal clap of his hips against your aching, worked core. You repeated his name over and over again.

He came inside you hard. Ropes of him shooting into you, his hips sputtering trying to get as deep inside you as possible. He lingered inside you, one of his hands moving your hair out of your face. Leaning down and placing a deep kiss on your lips. His forehead rested against yours, both of you stared longingly into each other's eyes. Heavy breaths were exchange between you.

His now soft cock slipped out of you. Cooper's face twisted at the loss of warmth. You felt him pour out of you, pooling on the mattress below you. He rolled beside you, pulling you close to his side. You watched as his chest heaved.

Silence returned to the room.

"We've got a big day tomorrow," Cooper sat up on the bed, "I better get back to watch."

You grabbed his arm, tugging him back onto the bed with you.

"I don't know how tomorrow will go. Can you just lay here with me for now? At least until I fall asleep?"

He stared blankly at you, trying his hardest to deny you but knowing he was going to give in. He cared for you too much.

He was awful at showing how he felt. He tried to be softer with his praises for you during sex, knowing any other kind of intimacy usually did not end well for him. He wanted to lay in bed with you all night and never have to leave this town. He longed for normalcy with you. A home away from everyone, kids running around, a dog in the front yard, and love... Something he knew he could never give someone again. People like him don't deserve it. At least that's what he thought.

"Please, Cooper?"

He tilted his head staring at you, "You make it hard to say no when you say my name like that." You smiled at him, giddy that he was going to give in.

This was nice, you thought. You longed for something simple with him. Something like the dream you had. Where you both could have no cares in the world and just live out life together. Happy in each other's company.

Sleepiness finally struck your body. Whether it was the orgasm or you finally being comfortable snuggled up to Cooper's side. You did not care. You cherished this. Half drunk in your state.

Cooper looked at you. He wanted to protect you. After the incident today, he realized how much you meant to him. He admired how perfectly you curled into him. Your eyes fighting sleep, heavily hooded. He could not fight the smile creeping up on him.

You mumbled something to him before you dozed off.

His heart stopped.

"Did she just tell me she loved me?"

~~~

END//Part 4

[Thank you for reading!  If you are interested in being tagging in any of my writings don’t be afraid to message me!  All tag lists are open!  I have a master taglist and one for each character!]

Tags:

@mortuus-poet | @giggle-shade | @ghcstvibess | @pixelatedprofilepic | @maezydaezy | @writtenbyhollywood | @ivyinthesun | @vaultdwellingghoullover | @heif | @catclaw1 |

[emilsendo]

hihihi I was wondering if you wouldn't mind writing something with kyoutani (mad dog) x male reader where the reader doesn't put up with any of mad dog's bs

only if you want to ofc!! sorry if this didn't make sense have a good day :]

Hiya! I am happy to make this request and I hope it will be good. (I'm not sure if I get it right, also I don't know which relation ya wanted with him, so don't hit me for messing something up🙏🛐)

Well, Enjoy!

Request: ✅️

Type: ???

Warnings: swearing, argument, cringe etc.

After classes ended, you were about to leave your school. You packed your things and hung the bag over your shoulder, leaving the classroom with tired expression. You've had enough! it was probably the most stressful day at school you've ever had. All you wanted was to go home, eat something, wash yourself and fall on your bed to fall asleep in your comfortable sheets... and to be away from these savages commonly called your "Classmates".

Walking through the school corridor, feeling satisfied and lighthearted that you are heading to the peace you long for. Suddenly, your "dear friend" bumbed into you. Which of course, was "your" fault in his opinion.

— Watch where you're goin', idiot! Can't you see I am walking?— he literally scolded you for nothing, while his usual scowl on his face deepen as he step in your way few seconds earlier. You stared at him with annoyed expression, feeling like you're about to say something you'll later.... not regret.

— Dude, first of all, YOU bumped into me. Secondly, smile because you look like a potato with sticks painted on instead of eyebrows. Lastly, if you didn't cooperate with your teammates again and that's why you lost, take it out on someone who wants to listen to you.....So, i quess no one want to listen to your bullshit.— You said with fake calmness, you felt too tired and annoyed to deal with Kentarō, also known as "Mad Dog", because of his almost aggresive behavior.

The blonde didn't like what you said to him, his grimace became bigger and he looked like he wanted to bite half of your face off. Probably because you hit the nail on the head. He did lose the game. And he's pissed off.

— ....I'll kill you for that.— He said.

— Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow.— you cut him off quickly, patting his head to tease him more and then you process to leave Aoba Johsai school. This guy really is something else....always grumpy, always aggressive, always wants to do everything himself, and always looks like he's about to burn you alive and curse your whole family with single glance.

The next day, during the break, you ate your (flavor) mochi. you were sitting on a bench in a place where it was relatively quiet. In your other hand you held a book titled "(Random name)".

As you were reading, you felt a strong grip on your shoulder that made you flinch a bit. Like, who the hell would expect something like this? Everyone would flinch. You looked up, feeling confused and curious, then you saw the person of the reason you stopped reading... No other than Kentarō.

— Oi, I want you to be on the Aoba Johsai match. I don't take answer "No", if you'll not be there, I'll kick your ass.— he said, as he tighten his grip on your shoulder. You already knew why he ask you that, making you irritated again by his personality. He only wants you here, just to rub into your face that he doesn't need teammates and that he's stronger than them.... and of course, for you to nod like a good puppy. NO! You'll not agree to this again, the last time you agreed to this, you had to listen to Iwazumi scolding and hitting Kentarō for begin disrespectful and stupid. And then the blond haired boy process to take his anger out on you by complaining about...who knows even what!?

— No.— you replied. Trying to sound like a professional nice kid that you weren't at all when it comes to Kentarō, who isn't good to you either.

The blond haired boy with two black stripes running across the sides of his head, just above the ears, grits his teeth. Before he smack your head, not too hard but still with firm hand. Making your eyes widen and anger rise.

— What the hell did ya just do, ya dog!?— you asked with stern tone, standing up immediately. Getting ready to scold the fuck out of him

— I warned you! And don't call me dog, asshole!— he respond, giving the same energy as you did. The people around you two just stared at you both, feeling concerned and mostly curious.

— You're acting like an idiot and I'm the one who has to apologize to you? Dude, you're my friend, but there are some lines you cross!— As you were saying it, you were also hitting Kentarō on the head with your fist. Trying to fight back for the thing he did earlier.

This argument lasted for a good few seconds until suddenly Iwazumi arrived and was informed about the incident by passing students. His look spoke for itself... You both were in trouble.

— IWA-CHAN! NO!—

— HEY! DON'T HIT!—

— SHUT UP!! YOU BOTH ARE CHILDISH AND STUPID!—

— Iwa-chan~ What is that all about....OW!—

— SHUT UP YOU TOO, SHITTYKAWA!—

[nilrilie]

A Spirit That Never Fades | pt. 2

The plot: is missing but all you need to know is that you were once a skyperson named Anilri that was somehow reborn as a Metkayina. Eywa loves you too much.

You can find this story on ao3

Warning: Mentions of drowning, that's all. This one is mostly warmhearted scenes.

Masterlist

From the creatures that walk on land and water to the plants that surround the forest and seas, everything around you is connected with energy and the memories of the past. And as you glide around the ocean floor by yourself with nothing but a soft tune humming in your head, you are thankful to Eywa that she has given you the ability to still feel these connections in this new life. 

From time to time, you stop to graze the sand on the ocean floor in hopes to find a shell that was different from the others you regularly see scattered around the village. And when you eventually found one half hidden under a rock, you couldn't help but smile in approval. 

It was the bluest calico shell you've ever seen, covered in stripes that looked like waves from a stormy sea. 

You've never seen any seashells with this pattern before and that's saying something since you've been here at the reef for about a year.

Picking it up, your mind wandered to the Omaticaya clan. To the forest Na'vi's whose skin color was the same shade as the shell in your hands. 

Thinking of them never fails to warm your heart. They were your people, a family you never asked for but was given anyways. 

Of course, at first, the forest Na'vis treated you with harsh words and looks but as months passed — also adding Grace's name to your back, they warmed up to you much like how Neytiri was to Jake. 

As these fond memories came to you, you couldn't shake the troubled feeling in your heart that followed. 

You know full well that a war was brewing between the Omaticaya clan and the humans before you died. It wasn't a hushed conversation in Hell’s Gate, the RDA was planning something big and they didn't care if others out of their field found out. 

You wanted to stop them, to do something inside the facility that might help Jake in defending the Na’vis and their home, but you had no power or position to intervene with the RDA's plan. Not to mention you also had zero knowledge on how to handle a weapon — unless it's a SCAR-L gun or a hunting knife, and you know full well those will be useless against an AMP suit with their big ass guns and hard metal exoskeletons.

You want to go back to the forest, to fight and be useful. To see Jake, Norm, Grace, and Trudy alive and safe. But they didn't have anything here that could be used to communicate outside the reef. You could always ask Tonowari or Ronal as they’d probably know but every time you open your mouth to ask, you would always change it to a different subject. 

It was cowardly, you know this, but you were afraid. Afraid that the war had happened and had taken the lives of the people you spent your time with — getting to know and befriended. That the forest you fell in love with was no more because of the humans who did the same thing to their mother.  

But there was a part of you that was still hopeful. 

For all you know, the Na'vis and the sky people might have solved their differences and made an agreement where the two species can cooperate in peace together.

…right? 

Deciding you've lingered enough at the bottom of the sea, you took one last look around the area before swimming up. The blue shell safely in your hands in a tight grip.  

Breaking the water's surface, you didn't expect to be so far away from land. The waves were far harsher than it was before you entered making it known that you’ve strayed too far from the safety of the village.

You were hesitant to leave even as the irregular waves hit your body you still wanted to explore outside the seawall, but you knew you needed to find Tsireya. She might be going crazy with worry since you both dived together, before losing each other to your own curiosity. 

Looking at the distance, you decided to call for your ilu and in under a minute Emma was beside you. Rubbing her head on yours as she chirped happily in greeting.

“Hey girl," you giggled, hand in her head as you gently pushed her away from drowning you with affection, "I know you love me but we need to go. Tsireya might just kill my ass if I stay longer here," you said, jumping on her back and connecting your queue. Emma chirped in understanding and effortlessly guided you both back into the water, moving as fast as she could to get you both back home safely. 

On the shallow end of the water, you see Tsireya watching the surface with a worried look that melted to relief when she saw you on your ilu. 

As you got closer, you knew you were in trouble when you saw the scowl on her face. “Anilri! Where have you been?!" The girl in front of you now fumed.

“Sorry,” you smiled slyly, getting off your ilu without a sound as the water went up to your waist. 

You patted Emma’s head as a gesture to thank her and to tell her she can go, which she did before bumping her head none too gently with yours. 

“Ow! Emma, you—! Ugh…I’m sorry, Tsireya. I got distracted. I didn't notice the time.” 

Signing, Tsireya looked at you closely, taking a hold of your shoulders and spinning you around to check if you had any injuries from your time in the water. When she didn't find any, she smiled at you before taking your arm and dragging you toward the sand. 

“Be glad Aonung or Kiloä were not here. They would have dived long ago, blind by worry from your long absence. It is worrying since you know how Aonung is, 

his inflated head would only drag him up causing him to be useless in the water.” she said, eyeing you with a teasing grin. 

Tsireya stopped her walking before you lightly smacked her arm in scolding. Seeing you glare at her only made the girl giggle. 

"That's mean, Reya." 

“Mean? You were the one who said those exact same words when Aonung tried to compete in hunting with you.” 

Shaking your head in amusement and rolling your eyes at the girl who was now laughing, it was clear as day that the memory of you bullying the bully was loved by Tsireya. 

With the movement of your eyes that led you to look at the sand below your feet, you smile at what you see. 

There on the sand were shells of different kinds, all ranging in different colors and shapes in one neat circle.

You squatted down to take a better look at them, Tsireya following you with a soft smile. 

At first, she had wondered why you didn't seem to know any skills that were needed to live on the reef, and even Aonung went to her to ask these questions with distress as he was the one who was supposed to look after the mysterious Metkayina girl.  

“How am I not supposed to worry, Tsireya? The girl can not even breathe properly underwater! She was behind me as we rode an ilu, then in an instant, lost her grip on me! When I looked back to see if she was alright, she was clutching her throat since she drank seawater from staying too long under. How was I supposed to know she needed air, she should have hit me or something to make me notice — !” 

“Aonung, Aunong stop it. Breath, brother.”

“She is Metkayina yet she does not know the basic things to survive in the water. 

She could have drowned, sister.” 

With his hands on his head and a pained expression on his face, Tsireya could only give him one piece of advice that she knows will work as she had experience in teaching the younger children of their clan. 

“Be patient with her, brother. She has lost her memories and that is probably why she has also forgotten the things we were all first taught as children.”

Aonung looked somber but nodded his head in agreement. “You know I am not Patient.” 

“Yes, but if you do not want a repeat of what happened, you must be. You must also talk to her and get to know her. Be her teacher and treat her as if she is a child, taking her first step in the water.” 

And as weeks passed, it was obvious you only needed a reminder. You were fast to learn, breaking records of warriors who could hold their breath underwater. You even rode an ilu with only one instruction to connect and hold on tight. 

You were someone that was connected with the water like no other. Tsireya couldn't stop the thought of telling her mother that the girl could be a future Tsahìk if only her mother would stop being suspicious of the girl. 

With your closeness to Aonung, Rotxo was there to see your growth. Furthermore, helping in teaching you anything you needed to know about hunting and making nets. And along with Rotxo, Tsireya was there to further assist you with breathing and riding the ilus.

The three teens could see your love for their home. And even till now, the love you showed towards the reef reminded them of its beauty. Something that they have almost forgotten as they were surrounded by it all their life. 

With the face you make, of awe and wonder, every time you see even the tiniest seashell on the sand, Tsireya was reminded to be thankful. And there was one thing she was extremely thankful for, and that was the day Eywa had given you to them. 

"Did you find all this?" you asked the younger girl, brushing your fingers on the shells to feel their textures.

"I did,” she replied, doing the same with the others that were near her. “When we got separated, I decided to look around and found them. I thought they would look good as decorations for clothing." 

"They would also look good as accessories for the hair. Would you like me to re-braid your hair and use some of it? These small ones are the perfect size."

"Yes, please! I would rather have you do it than my mother, she could sometimes be rough in handling hair." 

With a restrained laugh from what Tsireya told you, you looked back at the shells to distract yourself from laughing out loud. 

Sometimes, you still can't believe that everything that’s happening around you is true. 

Swimming and playing around in a body of water used to be a distant dream you had back on earth since the oceans and seas there were so polluted to the extent that none can be used to even water the nonexisting plants you had at home. 

Now here at Awa'atlu, you were living near the sea and breathing in the fresh air.

A very different place from where you started.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | ...

@ultimatebluff

[madmarchhare]

The Monk and the Traveller Ch.2

Cherry spent about two hours with the man, getting a dinner of fried fox wrapped in various herbs along with some pheasant he had cooked the night before, leaving the pheasant he had caught today to prepare later. Alcohol flowed freely, much to the monk’s taciturn delight, Collier pouring him large servings of Sake[1] into a pair of ornate jet sake dishes he had. ‘It would be wrong to serve them in something else!’ he had remarked, just before gulping down the clear drink. By the end of the supper the smaller man was thoroughly drunk, both on good food and good drink, completely red in the face and quite out of it.

Collier made conversation all the while, asking questions about the man while discussing himself, but Cherry was only in a state to offer monosyllabic replies or nods. The Englishman noticed, but was not too bothered by it, enjoying the company nonetheless as he spoke increasingly to himself. In the end Cherry was struggling to hold himself awake, beginning to nod off into the drink in his hand. Collier grabbed him under the arm and pulled him to his room, the monk wearing a Cheshire cat smile all the way. His room was lavish for the hotel, simplistic yet finely decorated where it could be. Collier pulled the man to his room and laid him on his bed, leaving his hat hung on his staff and the latter leaned against the wall outside the room, along with his sandals.

He left through the door, leaving the key inside near it, hearing Cherry’s drunken mumblings as he left. He walked back down the hall to his room, nodding to the daughter of the inn as they passed each other, which she returned curtly as she carried a number of towels. He returned to his room, locking the door behind himself then changed into a pair of striped pyjamas, removing his money from the jacket before folding it away. He went to bed, laying his watch near his head after unlatching it from his wrist, then laying down on the futon[2].

Collier woke up early, as he often did, getting up and stretching before walking off to wash his face and brush his teeth. After that, he changed into the trousers he had worn yesterday, with a fresh shirt rolling up the sleeves as he grabbed his guns to clean them.

The rifle was an equitize piece, a Lee Speed sporting with high grade wood, polished a deep colour. A metal butt plate on its rear, with a sling loop on the underside of the stock, a few inches up of a metal oval in the stock. The semi-pistol grip was beautifully chequered, a horn grip cap just below it, the trigger and magazine just ahead of it. Both featured light engravings, a deep one on the underside of the trigger guard. The foregrip was just a deeply chequered as the grip, capped with deep black horn as well. The action was blued deeply, with a round bolt head, a dust cover over the top of the action, the magazine cut-off just below it. The Lee action locked into a beautifully blued long barrel, a chequered rib all along the top, bar for the inscription of ‘Army & Navy Cooperative Ltd[3] London For cordite only’. A set of three flip up leaf sight near the action, platinum lines up their centres, along with a ladder sight up to a thousand yards, left for the ambitions. The end of the barrel featured a raised dot sight, adjustable with a set screw on one side, the muzzle showing the grooves of Enfield-style rifling as a swing loop was affixed under the far end of the barrel.

He disassembled and cleaned the rifle, being somewhat liberal on the use of oil as he cleaned out the cordite residue in the rifling, giving all the metal and wood a quick polish as he put it back together, working the action as he finished, then holding the trigger as it closed it back so it wouldn’t re-cock the striker. His revolvers were in better concern, not having been used as much. The first, and smaller of the two was Merwin & Hulbert Third Model frontier. An army style revolver, meaning it was chambered in the US army’s standard of .44 calibre, specifically in .44-40 or Winchester 1873 as it was marked on the gun. It featured a flared, bell-shaped grip made of ivory, a seven inch barrel, and was nickel plated. It was well engraved, seeing woven patterns of reeds and roaming Saharan fauna. He had bought it when he had travelled to America, enjoying the speed and strength of the gun, especially as this was a double action model.

His other one, a deep blued piece, was a Webley Target with Bakelite grips and seven and a half inch barrel. Both the rear-sight on the latch and the front sight were adjustable, the grip being flared at the base and the trigger serrated. It was Chambered in .477 Eley, also called Enfield, it was a black powder cartridge which Collier used as a stopping revolver, for tigers, bears and the like. Though unfortunately it would not go much larger in it’s targets.

He finished cleaning the trio of weapons he had got out, placing them away as he went to wash his hands and finish getting dressed. Before he left he went past Cherry’s room, pressing his ear to the door, checking for signs that the monk was still alive. He heard the man toss slightly within the room, so drew back, assured that he had not helped the man drink himself to death. He pulled on his coat and the rest of his equipment, a small rucksack on his back, along with a burlap wrapped canteen. An ammunition pouch strapped under the rucksack, along with an expense pouch on his right hip, near a metal brace for carrying game, both revolvers holster at his waist on the left.

He grabbed the left-over bits of fox meat, wrapped in wax-paper, to use as bait, placing them with the other select chunks he had with him already in his bag. He affixed a hunting knife to his belt, an ivory handled Damascus blade, then pulled his rifle over his shoulder. He left his room, locking it behind him as he walked, holding his boots by the mouth pinched between his finger and thumb. The sun had barely risen as he left his room, nodding to Surogasu as they passed each other the owner smiling warmly at his guest, though still wearing a tired look on his face. Collier walked to the entrance, stopping to don his boots, then left. Morning was dark outside, the sun not having yet raised its face. He checked his watch using what remained of the light from the inn, and saw it was twenty-eight minutes to five o’clock. He smiled to himself then set off into the dark, accompanied by the early morning songs of birds and the chatter of insects.

He arrived in the woods shortly after, adjusting his equipment, making sure nothing could rattle before loading his rifle, loading each round of .303 individually into the box magazine. He loaded both revolvers as well, opening the loading gate on the right side of the Merwin’s cylinder before sliding into its holster and retrieving the Webley. He broke it open, dropping the large bullets into the cylinder one by one before snapping it shut and holstering it as well. He stepped carefully through the woods, lifting his legs high to not become entangled in the groundcover underfoot. Conifer trees stretched high around him, draining out what little light the morning had granted him as he continued forward. He checked his watch, the radium on the hands lightly illuminating the face, allowing him to see that it had just turned quarter past five. He grabbed some bait from his rucksack, a section of breasted pheasant and set it up in a small parting in the ground cover. He moved downwind of the meat, watching closely as he moved away from it. When he was far enough away he chambered a round in his rifle, flipping up the leaf sight for the right range as he crouched down in the bracken, concealing himself within it. He waited patiently, watching around the spot as he listened to the quiet, moving occasionally to try and stay into the wind so that his scent would not blow over the bait.

After a while, just as the twinkling sparks of daylight began to burn, Collier saw movement ahead of him, just by a small mess of holly near the bait. A fox swept out of the cover, glancing around the space as it seemed to be heading home, but had noticed the food ahead of it. It moved to it, cautious on instinct, the mess of chicken blood already present on its chest as it considered the additional meal. Finally it darted close to it and snatched it up in its mouth. Before it could dash off, its legs already shifting, Collier fired, the sights lined up squarely on the creatures red face. The bullet boomed as it left the barrel, wreathed in a great boa of fire and burning cordite as it whipped past the plants surrounding the muzzle to pierce cleanly through the fox’s head. The creature didn’t notice, flopping to the ground from the residual inertia. The shot echoed off the thin trunks of the trees, bouncing up and down the uneven ground of the forest. Birds flew off in distress at the noise, though a number remained unabashed in their sleep.

Collier lifted and pulled back the bolt, catching the brass and dumping it into a pocket. He closed the bolt, chambering a round, then flipped on the safety before striding over to the fox. It was still twitching slightly, the last shocks of nerves displaying a fruitless imitation of life. He affixed the body to the brace had had at his hip, shifting it around so he could reach his expense pouch for cartridges. He left what remained of the bait on the ground, for the scavengers he thought. He made his way forward, an idle crow calling after him, almost in thanks for the meal he had left it. He made the same attempt two more times, the first succeeding, though the shot pierced its neck. The last attempt was fruitless, the day already having broke, seeing then end of any excursion for a fox.

He heard and saw a number of squirrels busing themselves across the tree branches, flashes of red and grey backlit against the innumerous greens and browns of the conifers. He let them alone, deciding to come back with a shotgun another time. Even his revolvers were likely too powerful for the small creatures. He continued on, finding a small outcropping of stone that he laid himself on, the wind dying down as he did. He stared out over the forest ahead of him, holding his rifle loosely in his hands. He had seen the signs of it a while earlier, small pits called ‘scrapes’ dung into the ground by the thing which stunk of the musky urine they used to mark them. He was in its territory, so he expected it to come, either soon or later.

He had spent the latter half of the day before stalking it, working out the particulars of its realm. He laid still, time ticking by with his watch as the sun moved overhead. By midday he had seen nothing, bar from a flush of green pheasant, of which he shot two with his rifle, bundling them with the foxes, wrapped in a sheet beside him. Then he spotted its shape. Almost fifty inches tall at the shoulder, and about sixty inches long, with deep mahogany fur, darker around the spine of the neck and near invisible white spots on its back. It darted its eyes around the scene with determined caution, prepared to fend off someone who breached his territory, using his impressive antlers. A sika deer, or nihonjika.[4] They were a fascinating species, especially compared to other deer he had hunted. Most would flee when they felt danger, the sika, however would hide. They would conceal themselves, indeed this one had likely done so as Collier hunted for it. But now, it hadn’t seen him, while the reverse was not true.

Collier again lined up the deer’s skull into the sights, the platinum line along the leaf sight crossing the dot sight just at its brow. He pulled the trigger carefully, feeling the take-up on his finger until the sear slipped out from under the striker. The shot was clean, the beautiful creature falling back gracefully, landing in the bracken with a light thrush of foliage and rushing air. Collier stared at it down his sights for a moment, letting out a satisfied exhale before pulling himself to his feet and slinging the rifle back over his shoulder. He grabbed the bundle of shot game beside him, holding it by a length of twine he had tied it up with as he walked over to the beast. Even in death, the buck held its beauty proudly, tall and lean, toned by a life of wilderness.

He dropped the game to the ground, pulling out his knife as he leant over the buck, swiftly and efficiently skinning the creature before sectioning the meat. He wrapped it up in brown paper, tying them with twine from his rucksack. He finished taking everything from the animal after a half hour, only leaving the stomach, intestines and lungs. He stood back away from the beast for a moment, wiping his bloody hands on a parchment of moss, sighing contently. He sat for a moment on a stump, reaching into one of his pockets to pull out a set of cigars, tucking one into his mouth as he reached for a box of matches. He pulled out the yellow box of Swan Vestas, pushing it out of the cover and plucking a singular match from it as swiftly striking it against the side, placing the box back in his pocket. He pressed the flame against the end of the cigar, puffing to light it as pinkish-grey smoke billowed around him, backlit by the sun. He took in a few mouthfuls of smoke before jumping to his feet, smoke whipping about, behind him and grabbing up all the game to take back. Just before he left, having collected all of his things, he removed the head of the buck to boil down to the skull later. He left the rest to nature, feeling curious glances of birds of prey overhead as he began to make his way back.

[1] A wine made from fermented rice.

[2] A Japanese style of bedding. The usually consist of a mattress[shikibuton] and duvet[kakebuton].

[3] The Army and Navy Co-operative was a company, initially a co-operative, established in the 19th century to serve British army and navy troops, selling weapons, ammunition and equipment, everything a soldier might need while serving overseas.

[4] Japanese Dear

[starions]

all that heaven allows

pairing: butch deloria x fem!lone wanderer (gigi halloway)

content: SMUT, blow jobs

words: 1400-ish i forgot

stand alone but you can read the first chapter here (and perhaps leave a kudos and comment as well idk idk)

“You comfortable?” Butch asked her, leaning on his forearms to look at her.

She was lying in between his legs, hands on his firm thighs. She felt them tense under her palms. “Hm?” She muttered, lost in her own thoughts. “Oh, yes.” Her eyes were glued on his dick, standing tall and proud inches from her face. She’d never seen it this close before, never noticed the vein that ran up the side or the slight shift in skin tone closer to the base. It was bigger somehow too, more intimidating. She was more scared to put a dick in her mouth than to shoot a raider in the head, funny that.

“You don’t have to do this, you know,” Butch said, tucking her hair behind her ear. “We can go downstairs and watch that Cooper Howard movie—know you got the hots for him.”

Butch hissed as Gigi wrapped her hand around the base of him. “I want to do it,” she said as she stroked him, “‘sides, this is more entertaining than Cooper Howard anyday. Just tell me what to do.”

“A-Alright, alright. Lighten up a bit; can’t teach you anything if I come early.”

She giggled, leaning forward to place a wet kiss on the head. She smiled when she felt him twitch in her palm. Gigi lightly gripped the base to keep him steady before giving a soft lick to the head, precum gathering on her tongue. Her anxiety seemed to relieve itself, and she wrapped her lips around the tip, swirling her tongue around it.

“Fuck,” he said, his head falling into the pillows. “Don’t be afraid to—shit—take some more in. Use some spit too.”

Gigi took him out of her mouth, stroking him leisurely as she spit downward onto his dick. He’d taught her to do it for handies, so it was muscle memory as she began stroking him how he liked it. She kissed the inside of his thigh, smiling at his panting. Licking a stripe from base to tip, Gigi gathered him in her mouth again, kicking her feet in the air as she did.

“Just like that,” Butch said, strained. One of his hands fisted the sheets until his knuckles turned white, while the other was keeping her hair out of her face. “Making me feel so good, angel.”

She glowed at the praise, her ankles crossed in the air. She took a breath in through her nose, taking more of him in her mouth. Butch’s girth made her wonder how it would fit inside her, but sucking him off was even more of a challenge. Her eyes watered as she bobbed her head around him and her hand stroked what she couldn’t fit inside. His moans though, God his moans, that made her more excited than anything. Made her want to do anything to hear them as loud as possible.

In her galvanized state to make him feel as good as possible, Gigi became reckless, taking him down to the hilt until his head hit the back of her throat and her nose nestled in his trimmed curls. The gasp that came out of Butch was delicious, but Gigi was too busy gagging to revel in it. His dick was out of her mouth in an instant, and she coughed globs of spit out of her mouth and onto his crotch in order to get in some much needed air.

“Oh shit,” Butch said, voice slightly pained. He sat up, getting her hair out of her sticky face. “Are you alright, baby?”

She heaved, red in the face, and nodded. “‘M sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he said, wiping the spit off her mouth with his hand. “Happens. Just maybe don’t try to swallow me whole your first time.”

She nodded, embarrassed.

“And watch the teeth. Nearly scraped the skin off my dick just now. Some people might be into that, but not me.”

She scoffed, repositioning herself between his thighs to finish the job. She had just wrapped her hand around him when Butch stopped her.

“You sure you want to keep going?”

She looked at him with a tilt of the head, hand stilled around him. “Do you want to keep going?”

“Well yeah—I want the most gorgeous girl in the world to suck my soul out my dick, but I’m not the one who just choked. We can stop—”

She pressed a wet hand onto his chest and pushed him into the pillows. “Stop talking and let me make you feel good.”

He sighed as her hand began to massage him. “Yes ma’am.”

Gigi moved carefully this time, taking him in her mouth in a pace comfortable for her. She made sure to curl her lips over her teeth as she bobbed her head. Her wrist twisted around him slickly, the excess spit making the glide easy. Butch’s hands fisted her hair tightly, but had enough willpower not to force himself down her throat. How sweet.

“Fuck,” he mumbled, head thrown back and eyes clenched shut. “Fuck, that’s so good Gigi. Fucking Christ, bunny, mouth feels fucking amazing.”

His incoherent rambling, the ragged breathing, and the slight bucking of his hips told Gigi all she needed to know. She sped up her ministrations, the obscene sound of spit and her gags filling the air. Her free hand slipped in between them, and she used it to roll his neglected balls gently in her hand.

“S-Shit,” he panted, chest heaving. “Geeg, fuck, g-gonna come. Where—where should I—” His eyes rolled back in his head as she stroked him faster, bobbed her head sloppier, and massaged his balls tighter. He couldn’t help bucking into her throat and tugging hard on her hair as he came with a loud and drawn out moan.

Gigi pulled back just enough so that the hot ropes of his cum landed on her tongue opposed to down her throat. She felt him pulse in her mouth, his balls tense in her hand. Butch gave a few more short spurts before his hands loosened from her hair and his body relaxed into the mattress.

She sat up on her knees, gathering the cum that spilled from her mouth with her thumb and sucking on it. His cum was still heavy on her tongue, salty with a strange viscosity she couldn’t compare anything else to. She could spit it out, but that would require her to find a towel somewhere, so she swallowed it down with one gulp. It wasn’t pleasant, but she’d ingested worse since living in the wasteland.

Below her, Butch sighed, coming out of his post-orgasm haze. “Jesus, Gigi. You blew my fucking mind.” He sat up, face glowing. “Stay there, let me get you something to spit into.”

“I swallowed it.”

He stared at her, dumbstruck. “You swallowed it?”

She looked at him, suddenly worried. “Was I not supposed to?”

He looked at her funny for a second, then he laughed. He grabbed her face in his hands, kissing her sloppily as they fell backwards onto the bed. Surely he could taste himself on her tongue, and Gigi didn’t know why she found that so hot.

They pulled apart, and Butch gathered her in his arms so she was lying on his chest and his nose was in her hair. “Thank you, doll.”

“For sucking your soul out of your dick?” She asked, teasingly. “You’re welcome.”

He chuckled into her hair, kissing the top of her head.

Sleep was luring them both in, and Gigi wished that they could stay like this forever—wrapped in each other's arms without the fear of raiders or ghouls or slavers or radiation. Just them. Forever.

“Hey baby?” She asked. He hummed in response. “You know how you’ve been trying to help me with my Spanish?”

“Key word: trying,” Butch said with a smirk. “You suck.”

“You’re so mean to me,” she said into his chest. “What I was going to ask was,” Gigi said, lifting herself up, “what does ‘te amo’ mean?”

He cracked one gray eye open to look at her, pausing for a second. “I love you.”

She smiled wide. “Aw, you’re so sweet.” She pressed a kiss to his lips. “I love you too.”

“You’re such a little brat,” he said, wrapping his arms around her waist and smacking her ass.

She cackled as he began peppering kisses on her neck, chest, and face. “I’m not joking,” she said through giggles. “I really do love you. I don’t know why it took me this long to say it.”

Butch looked up at her with adoration, eyes big and wet. “I love you too,” he said quietly. “Think I always have.”

[venerablemonk27]

Here's a bird that took me completely by surprise. (Content warning for a predator eating/carrying prey. I've put the more graphic pics below the cut.) Last week I was working at my dining room table, waiting for a plumber to show up. I glanced out the window and saw this Cooper's Hawk land on the neighbor's roof.

[ID: A male Cooper's Hawk stands on the roof of a house. The Hawk is mostly bluish grey with orange and white stripes on the breast and legs. He has dark red eyes and a hooked yellow beak with a grey tip. He's standing at the edge of the roof, looking off to the left. There are grey and black feathers scattered about, but the roof is blocking his prey from view. The sky in the background is an overcast grey. End ID]

Of course, I immediately jumped up and grabbed my camera. Based on the smaller size and the bluish tint to the wings, I figure the Hawk was male. I noticed right away that he was bending down to pick apart and eat something. I couldn't tell what he was eating, but I could see lots of black and grey feathers scattered about.

[ID: A male Cooper's Hawk stands on the roof of a house. The Hawk is mostly bluish grey with orange and white stripes on the breast and legs. He has dark red eyes and a hooked yellow beak with a grey tip. He's standing at the edge of the roof, looking down at his prey and lifting one yellow foot with sharp, black talons. There are grey and black feathers scattered about, but the roof is blocking his prey from view. The sky in the background is an overcast grey. End ID]

He stuck around for several minutes, which gave me some time to find a good position and adjust my settings to compensate for the overcast skies. (Picture me standing on a dining room chair, slightly crouched to line lens up with the top edge of the window.)

[ID: A male Cooper's Hawk stands on the roof of a house. The Hawk is mostly bluish grey with orange and white stripes on the breast and legs. He has dark red eyes and a hooked yellow beak with a grey tip. He's standing at the edge of the roof, looking down over the edge of the roof. There are grey and black feathers scattered about, but the roof is blocking his prey from view. The sky in the background is an overcast grey. End ID]

Just as I was taking another burst, the Hawk did a little hop to get a better grip on his meal. Go ahead and scroll past this last photo if you'd rather not see the remains of what appears to be a Downy Woodpecker. All I knew in the moment was that I had held the shutter button through the whole sequence. It was only later while processing photos that I could make out enough detail on the prey for a possible ID.

[ID: A male Cooper's Hawk is shown mid-hop in the air above the roof of a house. The Hawk is mostly bluish grey with orange and white stripes on the breast and legs. He has dark red eyes and a hooked yellow beak with a grey tip. He's just flapped his wings to hop into the air and get a better grip on his prey. The prey appears to be the remains of a Downy Woodpecker, with the head and most of the upper body torn away. However, the remaining feathers appear to have the characteristic black and white pattern on the tail to suggest either a Downy or Hairy Woodpecker. There are grey and black feathers scattered about. The sky in the background is an overcast grey. End ID]

Just after that, the Hawk flew off between the houses and was gone. It made me a little sad to think that one of our regular feeder visitors was now somebody's lunch, but it's somewhat comforting to think that our neighborhood must have a fairly healthy ecosystem. At least we have enough small birds and other prey around to convince the raptors to keep coming back to their favorite hunting grounds!

[brightsstar]

I was looking back at the question where someone asked what name the Eclipses would give a cat if they had one, and i had answered with possibly giving them some of my real cats.

Yes, we have 9 cats, and Davis also gave Sun his real cats on the show, so i figured, why the heck not lol

You can choose based on the names, but below, i will explain each cat's personality if you wanna pick from that.

Rosie: our oldest cat, and my sibling's cat (not sure now tho if that still holds true). She is a tortoiseshell who is very sweet natured, and very talkative. She is also a lap cat. Declawed, but after her, my family has never declawed any of our other cats we got after her.

Molly: formerly belonged to my grandparents (father's parents). Grandma's cat (Mom's mother) She is a gray and white tabby. At first, when she meets people, she hides out and is often aggressive if found by a stranger. She used to hide behind my grandparent's washing machine each time we visited, and hissed at us if we went to check on her. After she was given to us, and after she got used to us, she actually turned out to be a very sweet and talkative cat who loves cat treats.

Sabrina: orange tabby, female, my cat. Her coat is a sand color, but that still counts as an orange. Formerly my father's cat, chose me after we got him put away. Started following me around after he was gone, and still does, and sleeps with me nightly. She also comes to find me when i'm gone too long. She is territorial and doesn't like the other cats coming close to her. She'll hiss at them then swat at them, but never really hurts them. Cuddle cat when she wants to be. Potential sibling to the three below, we never got that confirmed though because she was a stray when we got her, but she is same age as them. Sabrina also greets me every time i come back to my room.

Chris: orange and white tabby, my mom's cat. Shorthair-longhair mix, only one like that in the litter. We found him and his siblings when they were barely 2 weeks old. Bottle-fed and hand raised them. He can be a very sweet boy, but sometimes he tends to swat or bite when he doesn't want petted. Hasn't done that in a while though. He also loves to pick on his brother. He also has this thing where he is a very heavy sleeper, especially for a cat, but he also likes to sleep on the edges of places, which often leads to him falling out of said spots when he sleeps. He is fine tho, we put stuff under him if he finds a spot he likes to sleep in for a while.

Fantal: orange and white tabby. Chris' brother (originally we thought he was a girl so we named him Fanta, but when we learned he was male, he was already responding to Fanta as his name, so we altered it slightly to Fantal), also my mom's cat. He is bigger than Chris, but he is a pushover. Many of our female cats don't like him except Feather. Fantal is also very sweet, but easily spooked.

Victoria: calico with tabby stripes. Fantal, and Chris' sister. My cat. An absolute attention hog, but still a sweetheart. She often reaches out with her paws when she wants petted to try grabbing anyone close to her. (She also put so many holes in so many of my shirts because she grips hard when she is picked up lol)

Misto: Black cat, chatter box. Sibling's cat, but i think he's mine now (they ignore their cats most of the time now, sadly..) Longhair-shorthair mix with an unusually long tail. He loves attention, and he loves to cuddle. Very talkative and very sweet. Playful too. Bold as well, so he is not afraid to get in the way of things i'm doing just to get petted. He barges in. He also is a smart cat. He can push and pull cracked doors open, and he knows the doorknob opens the door, but he is not tall enough to grip and turn them. He can and will jiggle the knob tho if he wants in or out of a room. At our old house, he and his sister even figured out how to unlock their cat door. He and his sister also broke our old screen door by breaking the mesh in a corner so they could get outside.

Feather: silver tabby with black stripes, Misto's sister, my cat. Possibly part munchkin cat, or dwarf. She has shorter legs than a normal cat. Also a longhair-shorthair mix. She also has an unusually long tail. She is very fluffy, and likes attention. Not quite as much as her brother. She is also very pretty and adorable, and she knows she is, and she knows how to use it to her advantage. (May or may not have inspired some of TL! Lunar's traits-) She is also smart, and potentially is smarter than her brother. She is often the one who led her and her brother's antics when they were still kittens. Both Misto and Feather were also strays, but acquainted with humans so they were not scared of us.

Cooper: Maine Coon or Norwegian Forest Cat. Possibly male calico? (He has black, tan, and white colors on him, and is a male) Formerly belonged to a relative who passed away last year. Declawed, but not by us. He had 2 previous owners before us, and the owner who had him before our relative did had been the one to declaw him. He is a very sweet cat, and when he meows, they're more like chirps. He also enjoys attention, and likes to cuddle. He had a rough few weeks recently as he had gotten very sick for a bit there, but is now recovering.

[chaoskirin]

The FULL Writeup for Deepcrawlers!

So you all have seen me make a few posts about the Deepcrawler species in the Bestiary Trilogy, but here is the FULL, IN-DEPTH HIT PIECE. Everything you want to know about these underground gremlins but were afraid to ask.

You want lore? You want worldbuilding? Well here's 4,730 words of absolute awesome nonsense FOR YOUR EYEBALLS.

Inside you'll find:

A whole aromatic species!

Eggs? NO. ROCKS.

Two Four Six sexes!

Hive cooperation!

Caste system!

Have you ever wondered what a gridge is? FIND OUT.

Look at these critters:

-- "Grar," probably.

You want more? Oh, I GOT more.

Deepcrawlers are one of the most unique life forms on Erit, and most live underground in elaborate hives run by queens.

Their sight and hearing is very advanced and attuned for living in dark environments. Additionally, deepcrawlers have four pits on their faces, just around their nose, which detect heat and chemical pheromones.

Their hands have three fingers in the middle, with two thumbs on the outsides. Each foot is extremely flexible and padlike, with ten toes on each foot which are suited for gripping and climbing. Most deepcrawlers, as their name suggests, crawl on their hands and feet, as the sensory input from the ground is just as important to them as sight, hearing, and smell.

Within the hive they possess a caste system. Their caste is generally denoted by an ear tag.

Their reproduction process is also extremely complicated, with six sexes: XX, XE, CC, CE, OO, and IO. Culturally, deepcrawlers compete with duarrow for the best underground real estate, and most hives do not have good relationships with duarrow cities. Some live in harmony with their underground neighbors, though, in an almost symbiotic arrangement which benefits both species.

Some hives are extremely talented with plague magic. Unlike other species, they are favored by Xax, and the deity's mark is extremely slow to overtake them. Some plaguecasters might go most of their life without feeling the destructive affect of Xax's mark. Even so, plague magic is holy to the deepcrawlers; if used without Xax's blessing, a deepcrawler may simply be struck dead by the wrath of the deity rather than slowly succumbing to disease over the course of many aurs.

Known uses of plague magic do include some applications which other species may not approve of. Most surface dwellers consider the deepcrawler hives which cull the weak as a form of eugenics. While their are few hives that still perform this application, the stigma still remains, and surface dwellers tend to associate this stereotype with all deepcrawlers.

However, deepcrawlers are also responsible for the ebb and flow of life and death from disease. Their belief system involves a strict tenet that life cannot truly thrive if there is not disease to overcome. This applies not only to sentient creatures, but to animals, plants, bacteria, fungus, and single-celled organisms. Deepcrawlers talented with plague magic are blessed by Xax to create disease, or take it away once it's run its course.

Some deepcrawlers may be found aboveground in hospitals and healer establishments to control disease. However, these healers are rare, as they eventually succumb to Xax's mark even if it is over the course of many aurs, and most deepcrawlers would not choose to live aboveground in the first place. Oftentimes, those with disease which wish to be healed must travel underground to seek these healers out.

Very, very occasionally, a rogue deepcrawler will kidnap surface dwellers and infect them with plagues. As this is not favorable in Xax's eyes, they often do not survive very long. However, this possibility does contribute to surface dweller fears.

Appearance

Deepcrawlers are varying shades of grey or brown. Their skin is leathery, and is often marked with darker grey, brown, or black striping. They are about the size of a large housecat and weigh between 20 and 30 lbs. The larger blan can weigh up to 50 lbs and are naturally larger.

Their heads are humanoid with a more pronounced jaw. Eyes are generally yellow, red, or orange, though a black mutation has been noted. They have short noses, with two pits on either side which sense heat and pheromones. Their mouths are wide and filled with sharp teeth. Ears are long and ratlike. Most ears are pierced with a tag indicating caste and hive.

Their posture is hunched, and most tend to crawl on all fours, though it is possible for them to walk upright for a little while.

They have four digits on each hand; the outer two are thumbs.

Their feet are perhaps the most interesting of any species on Erit. The soles are round and padlike, and are half-encircled by ten flexible toes on each. The entire foot can curl around nearly anything, and is made up of ligaments, fat, and cartilage rather than any bone. This makes them expert climbers.

Almost all deepcrawlers have some combination of spines, ossicones, tubercles, or other such protuberances on their necks and backs. These are often decorated with jewelry or other indications of caste or status.

Sexes Gridge (XX genotype) ~45% (She/Her)

Gridge are the most numerous sex in deepcrawler society. Depending on genetic predisposition, the gridge may be skilled or adept at either plague or earth magic, or may have incredible physical strength.

Most gridge are amicable to queen commands or suggestions within their hive, as long as they believe it is for the common good of the hive. A queen who is kind to the gridge will find the society works much more smoothly than a queen who makes demands or asserts control. Although the queen is fully capable of doing this, revolution will often start with the gridge if they are unhappy.

Non-deepcrawlers often refer to the gridge as "female," as they are the sole sex out of the six which are able to create eggs. However, this process is unlike the process in every other species, and assigning "female" to the gridge is a simplistic view of the process.

When a gridge is ready to reproduce, she will start by finding a suitable rock, which is then placed in a specialized pouch. Over the course of two to three months, the rock becomes hollow and the interior is replaced with the necessary amniotic environment to support the formation of life, plus the gridge's genetic material.

The egg also expands at this point—more for softer rocks, and less for harder rocks, like gems. The softest rocks will often produce four to five young, although the record is ten! While harder rocks will often support a single offspring. (Notably, gem-type eggs carried by royar are known to produce twins and triplets regularly. More on that in a bit.)

The egg types that a gridge is allowed to produce varies by caste. A lower caste will only use softer rocks, like soft sandstones, while the highest caste could carry diamonds.

The genetic material supplied by the gridge for reproduction is the rock egg. A gridge only requires genetic material from two other sexes to reproduce: a blan and a honet. (This is unlike a royar, who requires genetic material from a gridge, a blan, a honet, and a royarnii.)

Less than one percent of the time, a gridge egg will produce a royar, also known as a queenmaker. This has always been thought to be random, but there are certain things a gridge can do to improve the chances—slightly—of hatching a royar. This is still an area of study in deepcrawler society. Currently, is is thought that a gridge acquiring genetic material from a rare purple-striped blan might increase these chances.

Lastly, a gridge will never directly produce a queen. The only sex which can create a queen is the royar.

Royar (XE genotype) <1% (Shee/Herr)

Royar are also known as Queenmakers. They reproduce much less frequently than gridge—usually about half a dozen times throughout their lives—and their offspring are always queens.

As such, they are immediately placed into the Tahsv caste at birth, and will remain there their whole lives. They are the one sex which is actually biologically compelled to reproduce and to seek out members of the other sexes to do so. Although some royar are capable of resisting this compulsion, it is extremely rare.

More royar are born to gridge when there is a shortage of queens in the hive.

Royar do have other interests outside of reproducing, of course. They are treated well by society are are permitted to pursue any interest or career they wish, as long as it does not put them in direct danger. A royar will generally not be permitted to work in construction, for example.

In order to produce a queen, a royar must acquire a rock-egg which has been prepared by a gridge, then must also supply castol from a blan and spermati from a honet. Notably, the egg pouch of a royar is quite small, and can only maintain the smallest, hardest eggs, which will not increase in size during incubation. These are usually gems, such as sapphire and diamond.

After acquiring a genetic pearl from the royarnii sex, the royar will supply herr own genetic material, which is called aminios, and replaces about half of the amniotic environment inside the egg.

Royar are usually incapable of casting any magic.

Queens (OO genotype) ~4% (Rei/Reir)

Queens cannot reproduce and do not supply genetic material. They have a range of characteristics from all other sexes, but will universally lack an egg pouch.

The defining characteristic of queens is that they have the ability to control or influence the other sexes, except for other queens and royarnii. Blan and honet are the most pliable or fanatic to a queen's will, although gridge and royar also generally obey the whims of the queen. Cases of gridge breaking free from an abusive queen's control are not uncommon, and only the most psychically talented queen can bring these rebels back under control.

Some queens are extremely adept at control but are hesitant to use it. Others choose to run their hives like a machine, leaving little individualism among the members. In some rare hives, each member is simply an extension of the queen reirself, speaking with reir voice and committing only reir will.

It is in these hives that a gridge might spontaneously become royarnii, which cannot be controlled by the queen. A gridge that breaks free in this way will become locked in a berserk rage and begin killing other members of the hive. This is referred to as hive collapse, and is a cascading effect which will affect many gridge until the hive is destroyed.

Therefore, a wise queen will not exert more control than rei has to. A queen without a hive is not truly a queen.

Additionally, many all-controlling queens are assassinated by other queens. Queens who perform these assassinations take over the hive by right, but face an uphill battle as they deprogram their hive.

Notably, many queens might work together as directors of a single hive. While most will leave, taking some of the lower castes to begin a new hive elsewhere, it is advantageous for queens to work together, dividing tasks among themselves. The largest deepcrawler city has one hundred and sixteen queens working in harmony with each other.

Queens may be adept at any sort of magic, even beyond plague or earth magic, but most tend not to use it.

Blan (CC genotype) 25% (He/Him)

Blan are extremely physically powerful, and are the largest sex. Although most blan are in the ignit caste, many go on to become vhar, and have a wonderful aptitude for strategy. By no means are blan limited to lower castes, though.

They are also known to have streaks of color on their skin—most often red and orange, although more rarely blue and purple. Color striping does not seem to be genetic, nor is it based on an individual's intelligence, physical strength, or status. It is likely a manifestation of deepcrawler innate magic, which expresses itself in the otherwise rather plain coloring of the species.

Besides their streaks of color, blan are also able to carry ten to twelve times their own weight, or apply force many times their own weight. While a physically powerful gridge might be able to carry twice or three times their weight, a blan is a powerhouse specialist, and the heaviest jobs are saved for them in particular. Those who can carry more, or who are able to apply more force that normal, may find themselves admired enough to belong to the very highest caste.

Blan in lower castes may also make their living in competitions of power, such as weight lifting or fighting. Some may even practice a deepcrawler-specific form of martial arts called kinhest.

The blan genetic material is called castol, which is a thin oil secreted from a gland under their eyes. Blan enter their breeding season three times per aur, though this is staggered for all members of the sex. It is easy to tell a blan who is able to reproduce from the dark, shiny patches around their eyes.

Royar must acquire castol from a blue or purple-striped blan in order to produce a queen. Without the proper genetic material, the egg will die.

Rarely, a blan will have white streaks on their skin. These do not produce any genetic material, but neither do most have any desire to reproduce. Some have been known to adopt and care for young.

Blan generally cannot cast magic, although some have been known to have a little skill with either plague or earth magic.

Honet (CE genotype) 24% (Xe/Xir)

Honet are physically weaker than both blan and gridge (even magic-casting gridge), yet they make up for this by being the most powerfully magical beings in deepcrawler society. Nearly all plaguecasters are honet, for example, though honet can be equally talented with earth magic. Among the species, honet are the only sex in which one individual can cast BOTH plague and earth magics.

The queen will often keep three to five honet close to her within her court. They are referred to as her consorts, although queens do not reproduce. Honet who serve the queens in this way are free to reproduce with gridge or royar.

Honet often find themselves in supervisory roles when it comes to building out the hive. All crews will have several at their disposal; a wise construction operation will have many. Such operations have a lower mortality rate due to tunnel collapse or other such risks.

However, honet are not limited to these two roles. Magic competitions do exist in deepcrawler society, and some honet are incredibly talented sculptors. Many find themselves in the Vhint caste or higher.

Their genetic material is called spermati and is generally collected as the final step before an egg can become viable. This is because it must be injected directly into the egg pouch of a gridge or royar, which ties the honet together with xir partner for several hours. Notably, the honet are the only sex with visible genitalia.

Royarnii (IO genotype) 1% (It/Its)

Royarnii appear to be physically gridge-like, but are unable to create eggs.

It is common for Royarnii to be extremely mercurial or temperamental, and most are prone to fits of berserker rage that they later cannot recall. While some learn to temper these rages, most do not wish to do so, as they claim it brings them closer to the deity, Xax. Royarnii occasionally speak of experiencing a mere fraction of a second of a vision from Xax at the end of their rages, just as they return to conscious thought.

Roynarii cannot be controlled by queens, nor can they be compelled to reveal their thoughts, which makes them distrusted by queens. For this reason, they often live on the outskirts of hive society. They are generally not adversarial to other deepcrawlers unless cornered, and queens would not dare have them killed, as they would almost certainly lose control of much of the gridge and royar populations.

Despite tales told to the young, Royarnii are not mindless, and many are extremely intelligent. They are not part of the traditional caste system, as they are automatically assigned to the reighnnii caste by virtue of their very existence. However, many still pursue personal interests.

While 90% of Royarnii are hatched directly from eggs, any reproducing sex can become Royarnii. This is generally accomplished by strong-willed individuals who reject the genetic programming of hive society. Any deepcrawler who is able to resist the will of the queen is already on the path to becoming Royarnii. This is usually a gridge, but can also be royar, and rarely, blan and honet.

A Royar must acquire genetic material from a Royarnii in order to produce a queen egg. Royarnii produce a deep onyx pearl within a modified egg-pouch four to six times during their lives. Given the rarity, they are generally reluctant to party with it, and once they have, they describe a feeling of incompleteness or emptiness. It is thought that the pearl is what gives a queen the power to control the other castes, and may be a piece of the royarnii's soul.

Requesting a Royarnii's pearl is sometimes enough to send them into a rage, so it is advised to approach them with several other deepcrawlers in a small entourage. This can ensure the safety of the royar requesting to reproduce.

Some Royar have attempted to keep Royarnii captive in the past for easy access to genetic material, however, a captive Royarnii will soon die. No one is certain why, although deepcrawler scholars have spent huge amounts of resources trying to figure it out. Neither can Royarnii genetic material be harvested and kept, as it is extremely volatile.

Outside of the pouch, the pearl lasts about a span. It cannot be preserved.

Deepcrawler Castes

The caste system puts individual deepcrawlers into tiers within their hives. The caste into which you are born is fairly easy to change. Displaying aptitude will generally move you up to a higher class, while displaying incompetence or disdain for your work will move you down. These are not official promotions. Instead, other deepcrawlers will naturally begin to view you in a higher or lower status, and the chance to your caste is extremely democratic and based on some weak telepathic or pheromonal cues.

Caste list, lowest to highest:

Ignit (IG-nit): Assigned the color white. The lowest caste. Ignit are expected to spend most of their lives digging and expanding the tunnels of their hives or hunting underground fauna for food. The Ignit also find suitable rocks for reproducing members of the species to lay eggs. In general, it is the Ignit class which reproduces, as their duty involves "resupplying" the hive.

Ignit may be capable of minor earth magic, which assists in their tasks. Some are also drawn to plague magic, however, plague mages are, in general, immediately moved to the Rxe cast.

In some traditional hives, the Ignit caste is expected to "resupply" themselves. The taxing nature of their generally difficult work may lead to shorter lives, and in hives where Ignit are exclusively set to digging from an early age, inexperience can lead to early death. The average lifespan is much lower, with young dying as early as ten aurs.

However, in more modernized society, the Ignit might be seen as associates in markets, laborers in sanitation or water treatment, assistants in record keeping or collections, or other such endeavors. In these societies, the queens permit the Ignit caste to carry harder eggs, leading to fewer offspring. Offspring from more modern deepcrawler society tend to live much longer, fuller lives.

Permitted egg type examples: gypsum, amber, silver, cryolite, gold, wulfenite, howlite. Permitted egg types in modern hives include the same types of rocks from the Angh caste.

Angh (AHNG): Assigned the color orange. A step above the Ignit are the Angh. Those who show particular aptitude in their duties are moved up to this caste and take on a supervisory or more skilled role. Though not necessarily in charge of others, the Ignit look to them for advice or decision making.

Those who display aptitude for the arts will also find themselves in the Angh caste, whether it be visual or writing-based. Although there are not many art-oriented deepcrawlers, there are a few, and the best become well-revered enough to move up to the Vhint caste, or even to Tahsv. Artists are considered to have a special boon from their deity, Xax, who is said to treasure all kinds of arts. Art-oriented deepcrawlers are not expected to keep other professions.

Deepcrawlers who display high aptitude with earth magic may also be moved up to this caste. Their magic comes in handy in digging operations, where whole crews have been saved due to a talented mage.

Notably, the offspring of Angh will start in the same caste, but it is quite usual for the young to move down into the Ignit caste for a time, as proficiency in Angh duties is not genetic.

Permitted egg type examples: rhodochrosite, dioptase, scheelite, turquoise, wolframite

Vhint (VINT): Assigned the color blue. The Vhint caste are intellectuals and are a mix of Vhint by birth, and Ignit and Angh which have shown aptitude. They are record-keepers, researchers, diplomats, or simply utilized for their ability to keep and maintain information in their memory. Vhint and Vhar castes are considered the same level.

Sometimes this caste is recruited to make things more efficient for the hive, which occasionally means finding ways for the other castes to have an easier time with their duties. Some of the best artists also exist in this caste, and their works often decorate the structures within the hive.

Occasionally, even builders who display a particular flare for architecture find themselves in this caste. Visitors to hives with an art-talented architect speak of the beauty of the city, and how they barely realized they were under the earth at all.

Permitted egg type examples: cobaltite, sugilite, pyrite, nephrite, peridot, jasper

Vhar (VAR): Assigned the color red. The Vhar show aptitude in military strategy, fighting, and defense. They are physically capable, extremely powerful, and serve to protect their hives. Vhar in one hive will often spar or even go to war with the Vhar of other hives, completely separate from the whims of their queens. Like the Vhint, Vhar are mostly born into their caste, as their severe physical strength is quite genetic. However, it is not unheard of for Ignit or Angh to move to this caste.

There are some professional sports leagues among the deepcrawlers, and all members are considered to be in the Vhar caste. These leagues satisfy the natural inclination for the Vhar to battle other hives, which leads to fewer injuries and deaths. This has done wonders for the public relations between hives, as there are rarely situations where one hive demands compensation for the needless destruction of its members.

Vhar also comprise the highest tiers of construction professions, as they are able to carry many times their own weight with ease.

Permitted egg type examples: cobaltite, sugilite, pyrite, nephrite, peridot, jasper

Tahsv (TASS-vee): Assigned the color black. Also called the Highcaste. Generally this caste is made up of the best of the best from the Vhint and the Vhar. Occasionally, Angh are recognized directly to this caste, although Ignit are never welcome directly into it. All Royar who are born, even if it is to the lowest Ignit, are immediately recognized in this caste. Royar born to Ignit generally improve the lives of their Ignit parents, who will often find themselves promoted into the Igon caste by the respect of those around them.

This caste includes trusted advisers of the queens. In more modern hives where the queen is willing to designate work to others, the Tahsv caste will include officials who carry out orders.

Highly esteemed poets and artists will also find themselves elevated to this caste.

Very importantly, a deepcrawler cannot buy their way into this caste. They must be recognized as deserving by pheromone consensus of other deepcrawlers, just like any other caste. However, some extremely controlling queens may cause lower castes to recognize favored individuals as Tahsv.

Permitted egg type examples: topaz, ruby, sapphire, diamond

Igon (EYE-gahn): Assigned the color white. The Igon caste is exclusively reserved for parents of the rare Royar sex. Deepcrawlers remain in this caste until their young Royar is old enough to take care of herrself—generally 15-16 aurs. Ignit recognized into this caste are not expected to perform their usual duties, but are instead expected to dedicate all of their time to ensuring their Royar offspring reaches adulthood. An Ignit recognized to the Igon caste will sometimes be placed into a higher caste than the one in which they started, after they raise their child.

If a gridge in the Igon caste chooses to breed again, she may select any stone she wishes.

Rxe (err-SHAY): Never wear ear tags, but would be assigned the color scarlet. The Rxe caste is extremely talented with the holy plague magic of their deity, Xax. They are slightly shorter-lived than other deepcrawlers; although they still suffer the mark of Xax, it takes much, much longer to incapacitate them than it would other species. In fact, some Rxe never see the effects of the mark at all, especially those who follow Xax's will to the letter.

It is their duty to distribute disease—or take it away—in accordance with the doctrine of their most revered deity. This earns them a healthy fear among surface dwellers, although Rxe are only rarely directed to distribute disease to the sapient species of Erit. Some are even quite talented with healing.

Of course, there are some hives which use disease defensively or aggressively. A surface dweller visiting a deepcrawler hive should be very sure they are welcome, as these sorts of diseases are incurable (except by the Rxe), incommunicable, extremely painful, and slow to kill.

This caste has no "level" among the other castes. Those adept at plague magic simply become Rxe by their very ability, and some serve as priests in the temples of Xax, even on the surface. They are generally respected by other deepcrawlers, and are considered blessed by Xax.

Rxe generally do not breed, as their nearness to the deity will almost always kill the egg. However, as they have a better chance of carrying the egg to term the harder it is, members of this caste will almost exclusively carry diamonds.

Nzet (n-ZET): Children of all castes. Do not wear eartags or have an assigned color.

Reignnii (Rane-EE): Assigned the color purple, but are not expected to wear eartags. Some do, to promote and display their status. Reignii are queens and royarnii.

Hggo (h'GO): Casteless. Must wear a grey eartag and lose many rights in the hive. Becoming casteless is generally considered a punishment for individuals who refuse to contribute and do not become Royarnii. Hggo are permitted to beg for food and shelter, and most other castes will provide for them. Hggo who attempt to reproduce are immediately put to death.

The Hggo status was extremely common in the past, but is generally now only found in more conservative/traditional hives. In most hives, individuals who do not contribute are still seen and assigned as Ignit and have the right to buy/sell, have a home, have healthcare, and have children.

Deepcrawler Age

Gridge, Blan, and Honet live, on average, 70 aurs. Royar and Royarnii live, on average, 150 aurs. Queens have been recorded to live up to 300 aurs.

Deepcrawler Relationships

Deepcrawlers are extremely gregarious and most have an incredibly deep and limitless memory for friends, other hive members, and enemies. They are extremely good at facial recognition and remembrance of names, even among other species. If you meet a deepcrawler even once for a few minutes, it is likely that deepcrawler will remember you, even aurs later.

However, it is extremely rare for a deepcrawler to be in any sort of romantic relationship. Some do form preferred reproductive groups, but in general, they do not have a sense of romantic ties with one, or even a few, individuals. As their memory and ability to form strong bonds with many different individuals is so powerful, one might even consider a whole hive to be one large romantic relationship.

Deepcrawlers who choose to live on the surface are more likely to understand romance, but are not likely to remain in an exclusive relationship for very long. This is not due to a problem with commitment, but simply because a deepcrawler is prone to strong feelings to many people all at the same time. A surface deepcrawler will even refer to their close friend group as their hive.

[evocatiive]

"It hasn't for me yet." And the two of them have been together for quite some time. had been a hard fought battle to get to this point, their path to this level of comfort plagued with various internal demons and insecurities and external tests like long distance. But they have proved that their love is worthwhile and long-lasting. With that time also comes a familiarity with one another's bodies and Seonho knows exactly where to touch her, exactly what buttons to press to have her repeatedly breathing out his name like she does, a satisfying shiver coursing up and done his spine. He doesn't take his eyes away from her, unable to look away and admiring the pretty flush that washes over her face. The temptation is there to get her off just like this, but a venue switch now, at the beginning stages of what promises to be a long night, would mean that they didn't have to move later when they are far more entangled in one another. Licking his fingers when she lifts off of him, the taste of her tickles his palette. The path to her room is fortunately a short one, Seonho allowing himself to be guided and cooperating when she takes the lead in settling them onto the bed with her perched on top. His hands roam up and down the slope of her shapely legs, only lifting long enough for her to hike his shirt off of him. A strangled breath emits from his throat that evolves into an elongated groan, fingers moving to grip tightly onto her hips. His hips rock upward, continually rubbing his clothed bulge against her for momentarily relief. Knowing that he's going to take his time before slipping into her. "I think I have some idea," he whispers raggedly, "Being without you has been hard for me too." Using the hold on her hips, Seonho flips them over, maneuvering his legs to either side of her. He kisses her lips, and then his mouth starts to move downward. Over her throat and down the slope of her breasts, his tongue rolling against the smooth skin of her stomach as he mumbles, "I've been so hungry for you." He removes her skirt first. Then his fingers hook around the line of her panties, slowly sliding them off of her as he descended to rest his his head between her legs. He glances up at her with heat smoldering in dark eyes. Hands tuck underneath her ass, lifting her up so that he can bump his nose against her folds, biting the inside of her thigh. He licks a stripe along her slit teasingly, rolling his tongue shallowly into Jules' soaked depths.

“aren’t  you  feeding  my  ego  a  little  too  much?”  jules  beams,  basking  in  the  affection  he  so  generously  shows  her.  “be  careful.  it  might  backfire  on  you.”  there  was  a  time  jules  found  it  harder  to  accept  compliments  or  adoring,  with  a  part  in  her  that  always  questioned  whether  they  were  genuine,  whether  she  deserved  to  be  the  subject  of  this  much  affection.  with  him,  it  is  easier  to  believe.  “no.”  is  her  simple  answer.  even  when  they  were  more  timid  in  the  beginning,  the  intimacy  shared  was  pleasurable  and  left  her  missing  it  for  the  days  that  followed.  his  tongue  continues  to  roam  over  her  skin,  her  waist  arching  to  be  closer  to  him.  she  would  protest  about  the  bruises  he  left  in  his  trail,  but  she  loves  having  reminders  of  him  on  her.  his  deep  voice  only  magnifies  her  lust,  him  slipping  into  a  dominant  persona  that  only  appears  when  they  are  secluded  with  their  scorching  desires.  a  whimper  falls  off  her  mouth  when  he  slips  another  finger  inside  of  her,  the  pace  quickening  and  making  her  wetter  for  him.  she  gives  up  on  holding  back,  as  his  name  rolls  off  her  lips  with  a  breathless  plea.  his  gaze  holds  hers  firm  and  steady  and  her  cheeks  become  awash  with  a  deeper  shade  of  scarlet.  she  pouts  when  he  suggests  a  change  in  location,  wishing  that  he  would  have  her  ways  with  her  then  and  there  but  knowing  that  obliging  would  get  her  what  she  wants  sooner.  though  needy  and  unwilling,  she  untangles  herself  from  him,  immediately  missing  his  fingers  in  her.  she  gets  up,  one  hand  taking  his  as  she  leads  him  to  her  room  while  another  tugs  her  panties  back  up  so  it  won’t  fall  to  her  ankles.  she  gives  him  a  light  shove  once  they  reach  the  edge  of  her  mattress,  pinning  him  down  and  climbing  to  straddle  him.  her  hands  roam  down  his  chest,  before  eager  fingers  tug  at  the  hem  of  his  shirt,  wanting  to  pull  it  up  and  off  him.  her  mouth  finds  the  tender  skin  over  his  neck  before  kissing  him  there,  a  smirk  blooming  as  she  grinds  down  on  him,  feeling  the  pressure  of  his  length  against  her  core.  “you  have  no  idea  how  much  i’ve  missed  you.”  the  distracting  photos  and  videos  sent  his  way  give  him  a  good  enough  idea.  she  touched  herself  last  night  to  the  thoughts  of  him,  but  it  never  feels  as  good  as  he  does.  

[coopercricket]

COOPER GRIP - STRIPE

Our Stripe rubber grips are of the highest quality and are available in 9 colours.

[seriouslysam8]

Brumous Sneak Peek #2

“Speaking of potential boyfriends, don’t look, Ginny, but Harry Potter is looking at you and awkwardly shifting like he doesn’t know whether to interrupt or run,” Gemma added.

Demelza looked over and gave him a little wave. “You did break up with Michael, right?”

Ginny’s heart sped up as she slowly turned to see Harry was indeed standing awkwardly by the stairs and looking at them with the strap of his satchel gripped in his hands. His neck and cheeks looked flushed. He shot Ginny a lopsided grin when he caught her eye. Somehow, she got her lips to cooperate and shot him a reassuring smile. 

“Not yet,” Ginny whispered as she stood up, smoothing her skirt.

“Not yet?” Demelza hissed. “Why not?”

“Oh, Ginny,” Gemma groaned. “You’re going to miss your bloody chance with Harry Potter.”

“Shh,” Ginny shot in their direction before she made her way over towards Harry.

Relief spread across his face, his lips tugging up the closer she got. Her heart fluttered in her chest as she tried not to think about the fact that Demelza and Gemma were probably watching with bated breath at their interaction. She pushed that thought to the back of her mind as she stopped short of him, their eyes meeting.

Reaching out a hand, she touched his wrist. “Are you all right?”

Harry blinked at her for a second, his eyes snapping down to her fingers touching him. She pulled away, not wanting to upset him. She knew he didn’t like to be touched, but sometimes she couldn’t help herself ever since Easter. It was almost as though something had shifted between them, the air surrounding them light and airy. She rather liked it.

“Yeah, I, uh… Ron and Hermione are at a prefects meeting,” he replied, his brows disappearing underneath his glasses as he looked back up at her.

Ginny nodded. “Is there… do you, uh, do you need help with something?”

Harry’s tongue peeked out of his mouth. “I wanted to talk to… Snuffles. I was, uh, I was wondering if you’d be my lookout.”

“Yeah, of course, Harry,” Ginny said without missing a beat. “Is anything wrong?”

Harry shifted. “No, so don’t feel obligated if you don’t want to.”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “Trust me, I’m not doing anything I don’t want to do. You’re fine. I’m happy to help you. You’ve helped me loads.”

Harry blinked. “With what?”

Ginny’s heart thudded in her chest. She was fairly certain he didn’t want to hear about how he had quite literally saved her life when he was only twelve years old. Cocking her head to the side, the corners of her lips twitched. 

“You helped me reach that book in the library the other week,” Ginny replied as he let out a small chuckle. “You saved me from being suffocated by dust bunnies when we cleaned out the study last summer. Oh! You split the last piece of treacle tart with me over Christmas break when I really needed something sweet. You split your Easter egg with me after Quidditch practice when I was upset that Peakes nearly knocked me off my broom to what was almost my death. Two summers ago, at the Quidditch World Cup, do you remember you gave me your jacket after the attack? Yeah, I never gave that back, by the way, and I never intend to.”

A grin crossed Harry’s face. “Ah, that jacket with the stripes down the sleeves? That was one of my good jackets. I was wondering where that went.”

Ginny tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “It was far too small for you anyway. It didn’t even cover your wrists!”

Harry shoved his hands into his trouser pockets. “Embarrassingly enough, I think I got that jacket when I was nine. My aunt ordered it for my cousin and they shipped the wrong size and it fit me pretty decently.”

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Gavin’s Car Repair Date

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date, 修车之约, which has not been released in EN! 🍒

[ This was released on 13 August 2021 ]

Beneath the blue skies and white clouds, the meandering road stretches towards the mountaintop, and the roar of the engine is incessant.

A light-hearted melody flows slowly within the car. Since we’ve already heard this song many times, Gavin and I find ourselves humming along to the music softly. 

Gavin: Are you tired? I could drive next.

Sitting on the front passenger seat, Gavin turns his head to look at me.

MC: I’m not tired. I’m filled with energy right now~

I shake my head, gripping the steering wheel while my gaze focuses on the front.

Gavin and I had originally planned to go on a vacation in a neighbouring city today. However, sudden changes at work caused my vacation to shrink to half a day...

As such, Gavin suggested that we should change our plans to a drive, and that he’d take me to this mountain route he often drives on.

MC: I’ve already watched you driving down this road a couple of times. I’m more or less familiar with this route.

The corners of my lips curl upwards slightly, feeling the fresh breeze brushing my cheeks, along with the comforting and pleasant sensation it brings.

MC: I can now understand why you like going on a spin here. The feeling of rushing among the mountains feels really carefree.

Hearing this, Gavin’s lips hook into a smile.

Gavin: If you like it, we could come here often next time.

MC: Sure. But I’ll be the one to drive you, okay?

I speak with a teasing tone, and Gavin chuckles softly.

Gavin: Why not?

While we’re talking and laughing, a strange sound abruptly drifts to our ears. My brows furrow. Gavin also senses the problem.

Gavin: Let’s stop the car.

I nod, bringing the car to the side before stopping.

Gavin walks over to the front of the car, then opens the hood. Bits of sunlight filter through the leaves, casting a mix of light and shadows on his face.

MC: Should I call the insurance company?

Gavin: No need.

Gavin purses his lips slightly, then waves casually.

Gavin: The spark plug just needs to be replaced. This car’s pretty old, and it hasn’t been maintained much. It’s a good time to give it a thorough check.

MC: I see...

I glance at the long mountain road. Even if we were to head down the mountain now, there’s still a great distance between us and the city...

Gavin: It’s fine, there’s no need to worry.

As though seeing through my thoughts, he gives me a smile.

Gavin: There happens to be a shop I’m familiar with nearby. Since we’ve been driving for such a long time, we could head there for a short break too.

Gavin places his warm palm on the top of my head, rubbing it gently.

Gavin: In short, it isn’t a huge problem and we can continue driving. Let’s get in.

-

Halfway up this secluded mountain, Gavin stations the car outside a shop which looks pretty old. After getting off, what enters our vision is a tightly shut roll-up door.

Gavin: The boss might have headed out.

Gavin calls out the boss’ name several times, but doesn’t receive a response. Instead, the sound of barking drifts over.

MC: This is...

Gavin: It belongs to the boss.

Gavin takes out his phone and dials a number. At the same time, he strides towards a flowerpot at the side, retrieving a key from underneath.

Gavin: I’ve told the boss about our situation. He says we could head into the shop to repair the car ourselves.

MC: Ourselves?

I mumble in slight confusion, watching as Gavin lifts the roll-up door.

Before I can get a clear glimpse of the shop’s interior, a figure leaps out.

??: Woof woof!

A brown puppy circles around Gavin excitedly, nuzzling against him affectionately.

Gavin (voice clip here): Long time no see, Bean Bun.

Gavin squats down, patting its head. Then, he points at me.

Gavin: This is Big Sis MC. Say hello to her.

MC: Nice to meet you, Bean Bun~

I bend down. When Bean Bun sees me, the affectionate energy disappears instantly, and it hides behind Gavin timidly.

MC: ...I’m feeling a sense of déjà vu. Why are these dogs only close to you?

I pout, my tone laced with envy. Gavin chuckles softly.

Gavin: It’s just a little afraid of strangers. Once it familiarises itself with you, it’d naturally stick to you.

Watching as Gavin carries the puppy up with ease, I can’t help but ask curiously.

MC: Do you come here often?

Gavin: I guess so. I often go on drives on the mountain, and got to know the boss here. I’d drop by occasionally to modify cars with him.

Gavin places Bean Bun down, then gives me a slight smile.

Gavin: That’s why I’m more familiar with this puppy.

After saying this, he gets up and drives the car into the shop. I scan my surroundings in curiosity.

All of a sudden, a few photographs on the horizontally striped wall draw my attention-

The photographs feature customers of the shop with their beloved cars. Stepping closer, I find one figure particularly familiar...

MC: !

MC: Gavin, your photo is here too!

Pleasantly surprised, I point at that photograph. The Gavin in the photograph is even more youthful than he is right now. He’s leaning against the car, his amber eyes filled with unruliness.

This isn’t the only photograph. Next to it, there are several photographs of Gavin checking or fixing cars. However, they appear to be candid shots.

There are occasionally photographs of him looking directly into the camera. His brows are always furrowed slightly, reluctance written all over his face.

Thinking of the reasons why he was forced to have such photos taken, I find myself bursting into laughter.

Gavin: Cough...

An unnatural cough drifts to my ears softly. Without realising it, Gavin has come over to stand behind me.

Gavin: I once learnt how to repair cars from this boss.

He follows my line of sight, sweeping a glance at the photographs while explaining.

Gavin: But he’s very strange. He didn’t ask for fees, but just wanted to take some photographs of me to stick on the wall of the shop... he said that his business would be better this way.

Hearing this, the smile on my face grows even wider.

MC: Looks like this boss has pretty good taste. He knows that he can’t let this dashing “model” slip by~ If only I had such photographs of you...

I say this enviously while scrutinising the photographs on the wall. Gavin stares at the photographs of the youthful version of himself, and seems to understand my words differently.

Gavin: “Such” photographs?

MC: Mm!

Gavin: You could take a few photos later.

In a nonchalant manner, Gavin shifts to stand in front of me, and just so happens to block my line of sight.

Gavin: Stop looking. My skills from back then are far different from what they’re like now.

He arches his brows slightly, taking my hand in his.

While looking at the person in front of me, I find myself laughing aloud. A sudden realisation strikes me.

MC: Wait. You mentioned “car repair skills”... So other than motorcycles, you can repair cars too?

My eyes widen in astonishment.

In these photographs, Gavin is always driving a car. Even though I already knew that he can modify and repair motorcycles, I never thought that four-wheeled vehicles were an easy feat for him too.

Probably due to my exaggerated expression and tone, Gavin chuckles.

Gavin: Why are you so surprised? I had an interest in it, so I tried learning a little. It isn’t anything serious. Although cars and motorcycles are two different types of vehicles, the principles behind repairing them are more or less the same.

Gavin says this calmly while retrieving spare parts for the replacement from a cupboard at the side. I support my chin with a hand, eyes focused on him.

MC: You seem to know everything.

Gavin: That’s an exaggeration. It’s just a hobby.

With a faint smile, he walks towards the car while carrying the tools. When he walks past me, he taps on my cap gently.

Gavin: It won’t take long. It’d be fixed really soon. You can sit at the side and take a break for now.

After saying this, Gavin rolls his sleeves up to his elbows, revealing his contoured arm as he uses the tools seriously.

I watch on fixedly, realising that I rarely see this version of him. As such, I smile while shaking my head, moving a chair over and sitting down next to him.

MC: I just want to stay here. This is the first time I’m watching you repair a car for real. I want to protect this best observation spot~

Gavin chuckles softly, and doesn’t insist otherwise.

In the next second, something seems to occur to him. He stops in the midst of opening the hood of the car, then casts a glance at me.

MC: Hm? What’s wrong?

The corners of his lips hook upwards slightly, a gentle light overflowing in his eyes.

Gavin: Erm, MC. Could you help me out?

Hearing Gavin’s suggestion, I nod hurriedly.

MC: Of course I can. How can I help?

Gavin tilts his head crookedly and ponders over this.

Gavin: Could you hand me tools?

MC: Only handing you tools...?

Seeing that I’m slightly disappointed in this task which doesn’t require much skill, Gavin smiles as he grabs a clean apron from the rack and ties it on me.

Gavin: It’s inevitable to get grease on you when repairing cars. You’re dressed really nicely today, so don’t get yourself dirty.

The sudden closeness in proximity causes me to soften my breathing. I cooperate by lifting my hands, then sneak a peek at Gavin from my peripheral vision.

His eyes are lowered, and his expression is serious as he ties the ribbon of the apron into a knot. His warm breaths gently brush against my ear.

I blink and nod, my voice turning soft.

MC: Understood. In that case, I’ll be Officer Gavin’s little assistant today~

I say this with anticipation, and very soon grow accustomed to this new role.

While Gavin changes into his work clothes, I purchase two bottles of iced water from a nearby stall. After returning, the both of us take out the necessary spare parts and tools from a work cabinet.

Just as everything is going smoothly, a crisp sound drifts from the side, as though something has fallen to the ground.

Twisting our heads to look, we realise that Bean Bun, who had been drinking water obediently at the side earlier, has moved over to the car, pawing at the tools on the floor.

Gavin: A spare part probably fell underneath the car.

As though punishing it, Gavin rubs Bean Bun’s head. Then, he leans over to look below the car. He supports himself on the body of the car with one hand, attempting to reach for the spare part which rolled underneath the car.

Looking at his tall frame and the amount of effort he’s exerting, I can’t help but chuckle.

MC: I’ll do it.

Without waiting for Gavin’s response, I squat down, reaching out to feel underneath the car.

Gavin: ...do it slowly.

A large hand is lifted up, carefully protecting my head. 

After feeling around the darkness beneath the car, my fingertips suddenly bump into something icy cold. 

MC: Got it!

Seeing how happy I look, the corners of Gavin’s lips lift into a smile.

Gavin: Looks like having an ‘assistant’ around is much more convenient.

He takes the spare part from my hand.

Gavin: I’ll have to trouble you again later.

MC: Mm, leave it to me!

Gavin removes his cap. After using a hoisting jack to prop the car up, his movements are nimble as he burrows underneath the car.

In the meanwhile, I tidy up the tools that Bean Bun had messed up earlier. Occasionally, the crisp sound of clanking metal can be heard.

Bean Bun: Woof!

After a moment, I hear a sudden sound.

Turning my head over, I spot Bean Bun wagging its tail, running towards the car.

MC: Wait, Bean Bun!

Worried that it’d disturb Gavin while he’s repairing the car, I attempt to pick it up. However, Bean Bun manages to evade me nimbly again and again.

In the blink of an eye, it slips underneath the car. I hurriedly bend down, looking underneath.

MC: Bean Bun, come here...

My voice abruptly halts, and my line of sight is involuntarily drawn to the image before me-

Gavin is lying on the ground, his gaze focused as he makes replacements to the car.

His head is tilted upwards, revealing his sculpted lower jaw. A droplet of sweat slides off his face, plunging into the collar of his slightly open shirt.

Despite the grease and dirt on Gavin’s face, it does not minimise his dashing spirit at all.

Bean Bun: Woo...

Bean Bun’s bark returns me to my senses. It’s currently lying at the side, looking at Gavin a little pitifully. It’s as though it wants Gavin to play with it.

I wave at Bean Bun, pretending to look stern.

MC: Bean Bun, come here. I’ll give you delicious, delicious food!

Bean Bun: Woo woo...

Gavin: [laughs] It’s okay, he won’t disturb me.

Following the sound and looking over, I realise that Gavin had stopped his work at some point of time, and is currently looking at me with a shining gaze.

My face flushes, and I avert my eyes while using this opportunity to pick Bean Bun up, who is stuck to his side.

MC: Reporting to Officer Gavin - I’ve successfully kept this Little Rascal under control!

My dead seriousness tickles Gavin to laughter. He plays with Bean Bun while it’s in my arms.

Gavin: Mm, not bad. My assistant is indeed competent. 

After this, he continues with the work on hand, just that the smile at the corners of his lips curls at a greater angle than before.

Gavin: MC, stay here and talk to me.

MC: Mm, sure~

I blink, then retrieve a small electronic fan from my bag at the side. I point it towards Gavin, wanting him to feel a little more comfortable. 

Gavin: Come to think of it, do you know why I wanted to learn how to repair cars?

I look at him with curiosity, and Gavin continues.

Gavin: When driving, I’m the first person who can understand the overall situation of the car. To me, fixing the car myself is most convenient. Also, I can make detailed adjustments based on my own preferences. It takes a little more time, but the process is very interesting.

Gavin’s tone is gentle as he speaks, the corners of his lips lifting involuntarily.

Seeing the bright lights in his eyes, I feel a certain part of my heart being stirred.

MC: So that’s the reason why you like modifying and adding new coats of paint to vehicles? I know how that feels.

I nod while chuckling softly.

MC: Whenever I finished my handcrafts in the past, I’d draw all sorts of doodles on them... It was akin to leaving a mark belonging exclusively to me on the things that I liked.

I mumble to myself, not noticing that Gavin has paused in his movements. After a moment, he slides out smoothly from underneath the car.

Warm yellow sunlight lands on Gavin’s face, smoothening his sharp edges.

My heart stirs slightly. Supporting my hands on my kneecaps, I bend over to ask him a question.

MC: Are you done repairing it?

Beneath the mottled light, Gavin lifts his eyes to look at me, arching his brows.

Gavin: Not yet. There’s still the final step. I’ll need your help.

He pulls me over to him. Amid the hot and dry air in the surroundings, Gavin’s scent and the smell of engine oil blend together.

Gavin places a tool in my hand. Together, we screw the spare part I had picked up earlier.

Gavin: Done.

His scorching breaths land on the nape of my neck. I turn my head, watching as a large patch of sunlight spills on Gavin’s back.

Scattered dust floats in the air, reminiscent of mayflies as they land on the car, which has already been covered with a layer of dust.

The person in front of me has a bright and clear smile which is even more dazzling than sunlight. I blink gently, tugging on Gavin’s hand and swinging it to and fro.

MC: Gavin, there’s something else I might be able to help you with.

-

“Splash...”

I retrieve a towel from the pail, leaning over and meticulously wiping the car which has already been rinsed once.

In the next moment, Gavin stands behind me, grabbing my hand.

Gavin: It’s best to start from the roof of the car. That way, we wouldn’t have to wipe and wash it again. Like this.

MC: Mm...

I cooperate, standing on my tiptoes. Due to our difference in height, I find it a little strenuous.

Gavin: [laughs] Let me do it.

While saying this, Gavin takes the towel from my hand.

I nod and turn around. Only then do I realise that we’re only a finger away from each other.

Stray hairs on his forehead sweep against the tip of my nose, and I can see each one of his eyelashes distinctly.

Warmth climbs up my cheeks gradually. Just as I plan to slip out of this tiny space, my wrist is suddenly tugged on. 

MC: A-aren’t you washing the roof of the car...

Lifting my head, I see an imperceptible smile flashing past his eyes.

Gavin: Before washing it, I have to ask for a “reward” from my little assistant.

After saying this, he leans down, cupping a hand against my ear.

Then, he leaves a gentle kiss on my lips.

I hold my breath. The only thing I can feel is my slightly increased heart rate.

-

On this scorching summer afternoon, the whirring fan moves continuously, and the sunlight along the horizon turns from a dazzling gold into a warm yellow.

Without even realising it, we’ve already wiped off all the soap bubbles on the car, and the body of the car is as shiny as the surface of a mirror.

MC: Done! Is Officer Gavin satisfied with this little assistant’s performance?

I turn my head towards Gavin excitedly. When I see the white soap bubbles on his face, I laugh aloud.

Gavin: What is it?

Under Gavin’s confused gaze, I turn the sprinkler to the lowest level, then head over to Gavin.

MC: Don’t move.

I dab some water on my hand, wanting to brush off the soap bubbles on his face.

MC: Gavin, squat down a little.

Gavin: Mm, okay.

Gavin nods in understanding. Following my instructions, he bends down. In an instant, his sculpted face draws close to me.

Beneath the gem-like and dazzling sunlight, the beads of sweat on his skin reflect light, causing me to be slightly engrossed in the sight.

I brush off the soap bubbles on his face gently. A damp yet soft sensation drifts from my fingertips. Gavin’s eyelashes quiver slightly at the touch.

Gavin: ...are you done?

I turn my head, realising that the tips of Gavin’s ears have turned an unnatural red.

MC: ...nope. There’s still a little bit on your nose.

Suppressing my laughter, I continue caressing his outline, deliberately leaning in closer.

Gavin’s breathing seems to become heavier. His eyelashes quiver slightly, before his eyes open right in front of me.

Gavin: [breathing noises] ...

Our breaths mingle with the heat waves of midsummer, and our eyes reflect each other’s faces clearly.

After a short while, Gavin seems to react. His lips move, as though he’s about to say something. However, two crisp barks interrupt him.

Bean Bun: Woof! Woof!

Bean Bun, who has been neglected by us, releases unhappy sounds of protest. It hops up continuously, pawing against Gavin’s leg.

MC: Sorry sorry, we seem to keep forgetting you today.

Lowering my head, I pat Bean Bun’s head.

Gavin: [sighs] ...

As though not wanting my attention to continue getting diverted by the puppy, Gavin suddenly carries me in one swoop, placing me on the car as he looks directly at me.

Gavin: I haven’t answered your question from earlier.

MC: Huh?

Gavin leans in close. I have a clear view of the smile overflowing in his amber eyes...

Gavin: I’m very satisfied with the “little assistant’s” performance today.

The faint scent of sweat and the fragrance of soap meld into my breaths. Only after listening to him do I recall the question which was interrupted earlier.

Despite the smile surfacing on my face, I pretend to be dissatisfied while speaking.

MC: Is that all? Officer Gavin’s assessment seems a little superficial.

Gavin laughs. He lowers his head to nuzzle the tip of my nose while he continues.

Gavin: This is how satisfied I am.

After a long while, he draws away from me slightly. With an upward tilt of his lips, he reaches out to leave white soap bubbles on the tip of my nose.

Gavin: [laughs] ...there you go. Now, the both of us have soap bubbles on our faces.

Watching as the smile deepens on his lips, I’m in a daze for a few seconds. Then, I recall how I had toyed with him earlier.

MC: Gavin, you did that on purpose, didn’t you?

Gavin: Mm, this is a counterattack.

Gavin admits it with ease.

MC: I didn’t expect Officer Gavin to launch such a childish counterattack.

I can’t help but laugh. Gavin looks at me, happy warmth reflecting in his clean and clear eyes.

He lowers his head, leaning his forehead against mine affectionately.

Gavin: MC, what you said earlier was very accurate. When there’s something I like, I’d want to leave my exclusive mark on it.

With his gaze, Gavin traces the contours of my face. Along with the warm breeze, his tender words land in my ears clearly.

Gavin: Which is why, over here...

He tilts my chin upwards gently, his voice softening.

Gavin: Let me leave a mark.

The scent belonging exclusively to Gavin wafts over. A soft sensation seals my lips shut.

MC: Mm...

Without giving me any time to react, Gavin rolls my breaths in between my lips and teeth in an overbearing manner.

The sound of disordered breaths dissipate at my ears. I support myself weakly on Gavin’s arms, feeling as though the temperature of my surroundings is rising.

After an unknown period of time, Gavin releases his hold on me. His arms remain tightly wrapped around my waist.

I pant slightly, allowing my breathing to regain some composure. As though I’m unwilling to admit defeat, I lean over towards him, giving him a light peck on his chin.

MC: ...Gavin, me too.

I stare at Gavin, my fingers caressing his outline before sliding down slowly, stopping at his chest.

MC: On you and your heart... I want to leave even more marks belonging exclusively to me.

The light in Gavin’s eyes stir for a moment. Then, he brushes aside the hairs on my face, pressing his lips to my forehead.

Gavin: MC.

I hear him calling my name.

Gavin: Actually, you already did that since a very long time ago. You did it effortlessly.

Reminiscent of a gust of summer breeze, his voice brushes my heart, filling it with a sweet emotion.

I wrap my arms around his neck, feeling the mingling of our interlaced breaths as they melt into the rapidly increasing temperature of the surroundings...

Gavin’s Post: The breeze on the mountain is really comfortable. Next time, I’ll bring Sparky here.

MC: I want to learn how to ride a motorcycle from Officer Gavin!

Gavin: Sure. MC’s private lessons will begin next week.

Minor: Bro Gavin, can I tag along?

-

Gavin’s Post: The breeze on the mountain is really comfortable. Next time, I’ll bring Sparky here.

MC: Can we drive down different routes next time?

Gavin: Sure. Until you have your heart’s content.

Minor: Bro Gavin, can I tag along?

-

Gavin’s Post: The breeze on the mountain is really comfortable. Next time, I’ll bring Sparky here.

MC: Sparky: I’ve fallen out of favour.jpg

Gavin: It’s okay, I’ll coax it when we get back.

Minor: Bro Gavin, can I tag along?

💧 Phone calls: First l Second

💧 Translated comic based on this date: here

💧 Support the cafe by dropping by the tip jar!

[cyberrat]

59th Batch Of Fics: 9th Fill

Hanzo/Cassidy – Trucker AU – Part 2 – noncon; choking; money shot – The kid's not having a great night so far.

---

They stare at each other for a moment longer before the guy’s face twists minimally and he looks back down at the girl.

Cole does, too. He watches as the stranger slowly pulls out his cock, flush and wet with the kid’s saliva.

He tilts her head back with the harsh grip he still has in her hair and, not caring for the fact that she’s clearly passed out, starts to jerk his cock into her face, coating it with thick stripes of cum that hit her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. He is grunting low with every pulse of cum, finally ending it by tilting his hips a bit closer and wiping his dick against her forehead.

Cole watches it all with a morbid kind of fascination, his cock that he hadn’t been able to jerk into a full erection earlier, now starting to properly fill out after all.

He should cut back on the beers.

“Cheers,” the stranger growls at him in that deep, rough voice of his, now hoarse after his tryst.

The kid starts to come around now as well, moving sluggishly one hand up to touch her sticky face while the guy crouches down in front of her.

He searches through the pockets of her hoodie, finally pulling out a couple 50 dollar bills and one fiver. Cole is just wondering whether the two are an actual couple when the stranger stands up and tips his hood at him as if it were a hat, sticking the money into his own pocket.

“Have a good night,” the stranger says while the kid to his feet is starting to blink her dark eyes open, looking around blearily. “Gotta get out of her before the sun rises.”

Cole steps to the side to mak room for him, touching the brim of his own hat with one finger.

“I hear ya. Have a good one.”

The stranger moves toward a large truck on the other side of the stop, his strides eating ground even though he does not move particularly hurried.

A soft sound has Cole looking back down at the kid. She has properly woken up, though she looks still dazed as she suddenly sits up and pushes her hands into her pockets, frantically searching around while looking about, clearly confused.

Ah… not a couple after all, it seems.

He hooks one thumb behind his belt buckle cinched underneath his heavy belly and the other over his shoulder, vaguely in the direction of the stranger.

“Your stud just made off with your money, kiddo. Should be a bit more careful, hm?”

She looks up at him. Her eyes are as dark as the night, albeit still bleary. She looks like a pornstar with cum dripping off her face, her hair messy from getting it grabbed so hard.

Cole has no idea if she even understood what he said but suddenly her gaze sharpens and she follows the sight of his thumb hooked over his shoulder, probably seeing the stranger crawling into his truck.

Her cheeks heat up with rage and she struggles to get on her feet, running after him, though almost falling on her face when her legs don’t want to cooperate at first.

She flies over the truck stop, hurling herself against the now closed door and slamming against it with both fists.

He pulls a face, eyes flicking around to the dark cabins all about. One or two get illuminated as she calls out in a mix of English and a different language, probably trying to get the stranger to open the door and give her her money back.

Cole might be a bastard, but he’s not an asshole; he’s sure that if she keeps that up and the guys feel forced to come out and make her shut up, it’ll become a night she won’t forget any time soon. So he trots after her.

The stranger does not make a move in his cabin, probably just idly waiting out for her to get the message that she’s been used like a cumdump and robbed, or that the other truckers will come out and drive it home.

When he is behind her, he curls his arms around the kid in a bearhug and lifts her up from her feet and away from the truck door she’s banging against. He can feel a hard body underneath those baggy clothes; dense and a lot heavier than he thought possible, but not heavy enough for him to throw his goddamn back out, at least.

“No! No, let me-”

“Don’t go causing a ruckus,” he murmurs against her hair. It smells really nice; fruity. Maybe she isn’t that long on the run after all; or she just takes very good care of herself. “Don’t wanna end up as roadkill, do ya?”

He can hear her harsh breaths but the aggressive tension slowly leaves her body so he lets her back down on the ground, though he keeps his arms wrapped around her.

“Had bad luck this time. Ye’re a pretty li’l snack, you’ll get that money back soon enough.”

Her head is turned, staring holes into the door of the truck. He’s not sure she even listens to him, though he also is still unsure what exactly she understands. In any case, Cole is not above using the moment to feel the little beauty up some, one hand sliding up to get a grope of her tits…

That are not there, not really. He gets a bit of a hand full, but what he feels does not nearly have the same soft give as a breast, so-

Finally things fall into place and with his hand still thoughtfully groping the kid’s chest he drawls: “You a guy, huh? Never seen a pretty boy like you in person.”

That, for some reason, finally gets him the attention of the kid. He suddenly pulls out of Cole’s embrace and turns on him, those seemingly pure black eyes burning with anger.

“You help me.”

Cole shakes his head and lifts his hands.

“Not doin’ anythin’ of the sort, sweetie. Go an’ wash your face, won’t ya? Look like a whore with that money shot, ya know. Wouldn’t want that, do we?”

That takes the wind out of his sails. He seems a bit taken aback, lifting a hand to his face and touching his sticky cheek with a fingertip. The stranger’s cum is already starting to dry.

“I need…” he starts slowly, then looks back at Cole, suddenly producing that same postcard from before seemingly out of nowhere. He thrusts it in his face, showing him the rather colorful if generic picture stating LAS VEGAS. “Bring me here.”

Cole, starting to get bored fast and just wanting to get his sleep, shakes his head, hands still at his shoulders. He takes a step back.

“I’m not in a business o’ pickin’ up strays. Too much trouble,” he drawls. “Try any of the other gents. Bet they can help.”

The kid shakes his head profusely, his face looking dark and fierce despite the cum drying on it.

“I need to get here. Take me. I… I pay for it.”

Cole is not too convinced.

[witch-and-a-half]

settling a bet

im choosing not to think too much about if this story idea is weird or not. im just going to throw it out there and see what happens. also i think it is a little possible that f+g would get into an argument like this and make their bestie settle it.

notes: george x reader, a little fred x reader technically, kissing, fluff, besties w the twins

words: 1.5k

- - -

“Ah! [y/n]! She can help us,” Fred exclaimed when he spotted their friend on the couch in the Common Room. Her head spun to see Fred and George striding toward her from the portrait hole.

Closing her book, [y/n] raised her eyebrows, not even trying to guess what shenanigan the twins were going to rope her into this time. Fred sat on her left, George on her right, and Harry and Ron came over from across the room, eager to abandon their studies for a moment or two.

“We’ve made a bet…” Fred began, tilting his head playfully at the girl beside him.

Her head snapped the other way as George spoke, “... and we need someone to settle it.”

“And it has to be me because...?” She trailed off and her eyes narrowed, looking between the twins before giving Harry and Ron a confused look.

Fred clapped a hand on [y/n]’s shoulder, “Georgie here reckons he’s a better kisser than me. We made a bet and now someone has to settle it.”

“Oh?” [y/n] raised her brow at Fred, then turned to George, who was giving her a knowing look.

Harry piped up from the diagonal couch, his voice incredulous, “You’re gonna make [y/n] snog you?”

George wore an exaggerated grin, “Not a full snog… just a light one.”

“For science!” Fred held up a finger to emphasize his point.

[y/n] rolled her eyes. She knew the twins would bicker and pester her about this all weekend if she didn’t give in, and, from the looks on their faces, it looked like all the boys around her knew it too. It was just a quick kiss anyways, no big deal.

The twins both looked a bit surprised when [y/n] gave in so easily. “Okay fine.” She threw her hands up in defeat and turned her head to give both Fred and George an exasperated look, “Who’s first?”

Ron looked disgusted as Fred waggled his eyebrows in George’s direction.

George was shaking his head but smiling, “Freddie can go first? Save the best for last.”

[y/n] turned to Fred, who was wearing a smirk. Before he could move towards [y/n], Ron cut in, “Are we meant to watch or just pretend this isn’t happening?” His face was scrunched up as if he’d just sniffed a clove of garlic.

“You two watch as back-up judges,” George suggested, then his hand flew to cover his eyes, “I don’t think I’ll watch… seems fairer that way.”

Harry groaned and Ron’s face seemed frozen with disgust, but they were a bit too invested in the bet now to leave. And they didn’t exactly want to go back to their revisions.

With that, Fred lightly cupped [y/n]’s chin and brought his lips to hers. It was a hungry, heated kiss—it was evident Fred had something to prove—and not earth-shattering, but not altogether unpleasant. It might’ve been a bit better too if Ron and Harry weren’t watching the interaction in the same way one might watch a car crash. [y/n] pulled away when George spoke from behind his hands.

“Is it over yet? Can I look?”

Fred raised both eyebrows as [y/n] studied his face for a moment. Fred broke the tension by extending his hand and smiling coyly, “Thank you for your cooperation.” [y/n] took his hand and shook it firmly, giggling with relief as she joked back, “Pleasure doing business with you, Weasley.”

Then, she shifted to face George, who looked less sure than his brother had. His eyebrows dipped ever so slightly, silently saying “Are you sure this is okay?” [y/n] just smiled reassuringly and kissed him. George’s lips were softer, warmer than Fred’s. The kiss was altogether gentler, less concerned with the audience, and more focused on just the two of them. Caught up in the moment, George teased his tongue quickly along [y/n]’s lips. She bit back a moan and instead pulled away hastily.

George gave her a sympathetic look as they parted.

“Oh, she’s more flustered after that one,” Harry commented playfully. [y/n] shot the younger boy a death glare, which stopped Ron from sharing his observations.

Fred nudged [y/n], who’d shifted back to her original position between the twins, “Alright, love. Who’s it gonna be? Who’s the better snog?”

She hesitated, considering the effects of either choice.

“Go with your gut,” George urged, “We won’t be offended.”

[y/n] spoke slowly, “Hm… Okay… I’m going to go with…” She took a moment to enjoy having all four boys silently focused on her. It was so rare that she had the floor entirely to herself. “I’d say Fred.”

Fred’s arms shot straight up as he whooped victoriously. George put his hand on his chest as though he’d been seriously hurt by the loss. [y/n] rolled her eyes again and picked up the book she’d been reading, resuming as though the whole ordeal had never happened.

“Huh…” Ron said thoughtfully, “That’s not who I would’ve put my money on.” But his eyes widened as everyone stopped to look at him, and he realized what it sounded like. Everyone’s eyes were bright with amusement as Ron tried to explain that he hadn’t meant to imply that he’d considered which of his brothers was a better kisser.

Ron and Harry stood to return to their table across the room, and Fred stood as well. “C’mere then Ronniekins,” Fred spoke through pouted lips, “You can decide for yourself who’s a better kisser.”

Harry gathered his books as Ron hurried up the stairs before Fred—who was making kissy sounds now—could say anything else. “Well, this has been a strange evening,” Harry said, following Ron to their dormitory. Fred and George headed to their room too, but not before Fred blew [y/n] a kiss from the bottom of the stairs.

~ ~ ~

[y/n] was still reading on the couch an hour later when she heard footsteps coming from the boy’s dormitory stairs. George was wearing striped pajamas with mismatched socks as he padded back into the Common Room. He sank into the couch beside [y/n], wrapping an arm around her and pulling her practically onto his lap.

“Did you have to pick Fred? I’ll never hear the end of it.” George pressed a kiss to [y/n]’s temple and she set the book down on her lap. She shimmied so she was fully on George’s lap before responding, “Felt suspicious to pick you… and biased.”

George chuckled into her hair, catching whiffs of her shampoo as her head rested on his chest. “Be honest. I was the better kisser right?”

“Mmm… yeah, but, again, I’m biased.”

George’s hand found her chin and tilted her head up towards him. His lips latched onto hers for the second time that evening, but this time [y/n] let George’s tongue swipe across her lips. And George relished the sweet sound she made when he gripped her hips with his strong hands. [y/n] rested her hand on his bicep as she slowly pulled away from the kiss.

“Wouldn’t it have been easier to just have told Fred we’ve been seeing each other?” [y/n] whispered. She was enjoying keeping their relationship a secret, but it seemed like George could have avoided making her kiss his twin.

Sheepishly, George responded, “Yeah, sorry about that. I didn’t know Fred was going to ask you to actually do it. And I didn’t know you were going to agree.”

Now [y/n] felt a bit guilty. It seemed like George was okay with it at the time, but maybe they both could have avoided the whole awkward situation. Seeing her concern, George broke out into a reassuring smile, “It’s alright. All that matters is that I know—in my heart—that I am the better snog.”

[y/n] smiled up at her boyfriend as he continued, “And, honestly, I’m glad you went along with it because I’m really enjoying things the way they are. We can tell everyone eventually, but, for now, I like that it’s just me and you.”

His words made [y/n]’s heart swell and she nuzzled her face into his chest to hide her uncontrollable grin. George continued leaving small kisses on the top of his girlfriend’s head as she let his comforting presence fill her senses.

“I like that it’s just us too.” [y/n] murmured sleepily, “It’s like I get to love two Georges: my friend most of the time and my boyfriend when nobody else is around.”

George, who’s eyelids were growing heavy, felt his heartbeat quicken at [y/n]’s words, “You love me?”

Her face was still out of George’s view, but she scrunched her eyes shut for a second as she realized what she’d said. It wasn’t that she didn’t love him—she absolutely adored George in every sense of the word—but perhaps it was too soon to say it out loud. The whole reason they were keeping their relationship from their friends was so they could be sure not to ruin their friendship, but she worried that saying those words too soon was exactly the type of thing that could wreck everything.

[y/n]’s racing thoughts were interrupted by George’s hand traveling up from her hips. The hand glided slowly up her side before cupping the nape of her neck and scratching gently in her scalp. At the sensation, her head lifted from his chest and bent up towards his gaze. George leaned down slightly so he could look her in the eyes when he spoke, “I love you too.”

[pumpkinpot]

Jealousy turned submissive

A/n: Hi! this is my first post, I am sorry for any grammar errors. Yes, he calls us Little Crow. i thought it was cUTe. enjoy. 

Tag warnings: this is smut. use of vibrator, Y/N dom themes, jealous themes, 

*

*

Y/n," I say, offering my hand.

The man takes it in his with a firm shake. "It's nice to meet you. I'm Cooper," he announces over booming club music. "you look as bored as I feel," gesturing to my now flat soda and open laptop. “What are you doing in a place like this?”

The setup does give off that feel. As I suppose, was proposed, but his company is appreciated. You can only monotonously skim Pinterest for so long. “I’m waiting for someone to finish their weekly chores.”

“Ah,” he confirms, “Bartender or dancer?” 

“Neither.” 

Over the next hour, I learn my new friend is a recently widowed father who was dragged out by his friends but isn’t quite ready to start dating. He spends my attention showing off pictures of his wife and toddler son. The conversation comes easy, I tell him about my most recent publication, only for him to reveal his wife's affinity for my work. 

Cooper and I shuffle along the outskirts of the crowd to the bar to refill our non-alcoholic drinks. Along the way, he sneaks subtle cheers at his friends to ease their prying excitement while I slip winks at my secret date at the catch of his eye. 

“So, why aren’t you out with your date?” Cooper asks. 

“I’m not the public type. His job forces him to be, I’m here for moral support, but from a

distance.”

“Ah, so he’s a hero?” 

As the question mark finishes drying at the end of his sentence I feel a soft trail draw down the side of my neck. 

Warmth presses against my back, the feather suspended at the crook of my chest. 

“Don’t let me interrupt,” comes a grating voice from behind me. 

One look at Cooper's face says the look on Hawks is not a friendly one. Without a glance back I slip my hand around my boyfriend's waist, pulling him to my side. 

“Cooper,” I greet, “this is Hawks.”

His wing extends possessively around my shoulder, every feather fanned in attention. I work my hand under the seam of Keigo's silk black shirt delicately trailing a finger up the joint of his left-wing. His knees nearly buckle at the touch, his grip of anger forcibly stripped from his body. 

“Nice to meet you, my wife and I were really big fans.”

“Really," Hawks confirms, "Where is your wife?” 

“-Okay,” I interrupt before more can be said. “Hawks, shall we head home?”

I exchange a brief apologetic goodbye with Cooper before leading hawks out the back gate.

I am yet from the club's threshold when Hawks sweeps me into his arms, taking flight. I choke on profanities swallowed down with two AM air.  

Keigo says no words the entire way home, only sparing me a glance to set me properly on our balcony, yet he waits not for my legs to stop shaking before pulling me against the glass of the sliding door. 

“You made me very jealous tonight my little crow.” He whispers, slipping a hand around the curve of my waist.  “Watching you talk and smile with that man all night, drove me crazy. You’re lucky I-” One hand around my wrists. "-had work to do tonight or-" the other he tugs up my dress. "-you'd gotten this punishment much sooner. 

I allow him to take me as he wishes. hiking my legs along the curve of his hips as he pulls me into our bedroom and stripes me. He takes his time to leave small lovebites along my collarbone and inner thigh, marking me as his. 

I allow him to slip his cock between my lips, even gag a few times just to see the power well in his eyes. 

He teases my cunt, drawing circles around my clit a string of possessive promises tumbling from jealous lips.

At the softest whimper, he loses control, slipping inside of me starved by his own punishment.

He pushes further into me hungrily, pulling my arms around him and kissing me with a consuming desire. The familiar shutter of his wings announces he's near climax.

Heaves come in broken commas of release, his wings sweeping behind him, slacking in exhaustion. 

"Keigo," I whisper, through the wave of his orgasm. 

"Hmm," he answers through a kiss. He sets inside of me, pumping slowly through the deflation of his erection. 

"what's our safe word?" 

His body tenses under the question and he pulls back slightly, "what?" 

"Our safe-word, what is it?" I say, slowly moving to straddle his lap.

"Pomegranate, why?"

"Hmm, remember that."

I slip a silicone vibe over my fingertips while distracting him with a drunken kiss. 

I dance my fingers under the curve of his wing joints before turning on the oscillation.

A broken whimper tumbles from his slacked jar. He digs temporary grooves into my back, burying his face into my shoulder.

"Ah, baby-"

"Now that you're reveling in your oversensitivity," I whisper, "you're going to answer some questions for me, understand?"

His deflation comes to a halt, blood rushing back to his groin. "little cr-"

"understand?" I say, upping the vibration. 

He stifles an outcry between his teeth, nodding, "y-yes-"

"yes what?"

"Yes, mistress-"

 He presses his hips up into mine, soaking any relief my clenched thighs allow.

"You embarrassed me tonight." I affirm, "you asked me to be there and paid me no mind all night."

My fingers weave the roots of his feathers not yet to touch the joint itself.

"Fuck.” He moans, “baby I-"

"Stop talking," I command, stiffing another attempt at a thrust. cockwarming inside of me I begin to massage the connection of feathers to the nexus.

His moans fall to feeble whimpers and broken expletives.

 "Keigo, do you think I would allow anyone to come between me, and this?" I ask, giving one full-length, slow thrust. 

I bite back my own moan with a tighter grip on his wing, refusing him any power at that moment. 

He pulls my shoulder between his teeth, suppressing a gasp. 

“No, no, look at me,” I say, using my unoccupied hand to lift his chin level with mine. “What came over you to believe I would entertain the idea of a mere man taking away what I have here.”

“But he-” 

I raise my hips, pulling off him nearly completely, only the head of his cock breaching my insides. He fights against my hips, pleading kisses being left across my chest. 

“I didn’t ask about him, I asked about me." I slip back onto him not forgoing my own pleasure for his mistake. "Answer the question.” I grid just enough to grant to feel his stubble tickle my clit but not enough for him to get any real reprieve.

Nail marks decorate my arms and no doubt my back. his fight to stay in control slipping from his grasp. 

“I should have trusted,” He breathes, “I-I’m sorry” another heave, “please let me-”

I pull up once again, undulating the tip to pull him further from his orgasm and keep him teetering on insanity. 

  “Little crow please I need-"

My nails scrape against his scape as I pull his head back by the roots of his hair. His chin tips to the ceiling and I take my time to lick up his ear before pulling the lobe between my teeth. “You ever act out like that again, I’ll fuck you until you cry.” 

He gives as much of a nod as he can, collapsing into a fit of hungry thrusts as my hips open to him.