#Native American Fiction

[mad-rdr]

Firekeeper's Daughter - Angeline Boulley

★ ★ ★ ★/5

While this story started off a bit slow, I was completely hooked by the end. For a debut author, Boulley really knows how to incorporate so many elements into her story. This book follows a young woman named Daunis, an unofficial tribe member despite her ties to her Native American heritage (largely due to the racist beliefs of her white grandmother), and an undercover FBI operation that's targeting the drug trafficking going on in the reservation. This book was as heart-wrenching as it was suspenseful, and the author tackles a lot of deep topics throughout the storyline. My heart breaks for Daunis and her family, their story feels so real. Daunis has to deal with so much that she isn't able to enjoy her freshmen year of college- that older sibling burden is so evident. I was glad when she met Jamie, but of course he had to be an undercover agent (??). That was probably to most unrealistic part of the story- you're telling me this baby-faced 22-year-old is an undercover agent that's already been undercover once?? Nah. Not only that, but he definitely took advantage of Daunis' position and desire to help her community. Like, we never even learn his real name for god's sake. But anyways, this was an enjoyable story, but please check the trigger warnings before reading!

[holley4734]

The Lost Journals of Sacajewea: #bookreview

@Magpiecap @Milkweed_Books #bookbloggers #booklovers #bookish #booktwt #BookTwitter @BloggersHut @_TeamBlogger

“In my seventh winter, when my head only reached my Appe’s rib, a White Man came into camp. Bare trees scratched sky. Cold was endless. He moved through trees like strikes of sunlight. My Bia said he came with bad intentions, like a Water Baby’s cry.”  Sacajewea, The Lost Journals of Sacajewea The Lost Journals of Sacajewea by Debra Magpie Earling tells a more accurate story of Sacajewea that…

[its-suanneschafer-author]

BOOK REVIEW: #DreamWheels by #RichardWagamese. An extraordinary story, cowboys and Indians with a twist. Gorgeous prose. 

[cryingoflot49]

[pickledpascal]

Hold Me Like Water Masterlist

Hugh Jackman x Maya Imik

Hugh Jackman Masterlist

Fic on AO3

Summary: Maya and Hugh have been friends for nearly ten years. After divorcing his now ex, Maya is there to comfort him. And maybe become something else.

General Warnings: reminder that the fmc is a trans woman !!! she has a girl dick !!! kinda slow burn moment. smut. but just a little bit. it's a friends to lovers story guys, they gotta take their time. i will be talking about hughs divorce which will be purely speculation so obviously don't take anything i say as truth. age gap!! fic starts with maya being 23 and hugh is 44.

A/N: this is gonna be a long one, so buckle in hughlovers

ONE. TWO. THREE. FOUR. FIVE. SIX. SEVEN. EIGHT. NINE. TEN. ELEVEN. TWELVE. THIRTEEN. FOURTEEN. FIFTEEN. SIXTEEN. SEVENTEEN. EIGHTEEN.

[mastersoftheair]

on the point of including black people in the show (or any period show), a lot of the outrage can sometimes come across as performative to me. it's one thing to feel upset about how little screentime black characters get compared to white characters (a valid criticism, believe me, I Know! give me an hour and i could talk your ear off about how this constantly annoys me as a black person who's damned to enjoy period pieces), but it's another to Only get upset while not actually creating content for said black characters, Especially when fandom (not just hbo war, but in general) is famous for taking Extremely minor characters and creating entire worlds with them, to the point where you wouldn't know they're minor characters at all until you check out the source yourself. richard macon, alexander jefferson, and robert daniels each have only 20 or less posts about them (at the time of publishing this post). in my own fandom experience (within fandoms both big and small and old and new, whatever), i've seen more content (posts, art pieces, analyses, fics, etc) made for minor white characters in less than a mere week's time (it's not a competiton lol i'm just giving a perspective here). so idk. obviously, there's nothing anyone here can do about a show that's already been filmed and released. we got what we got. thas it. at least in the great wide world of fandom, you can actually do something about it, turning the big into small. there's precedent for that. otherwise it just feels like complaining for the sake of complaining

[skylessknights]

GET TO KNOW ME: ♡ favourite underrated tv show - Trickster

There was a time when we were all family. Witches, Ancient, Tricksters. Cycle and balance...harmony. You're called ancients? Why do you want my son? Your son? The son of a trickster and a witch. I've never seen that before.

[moeitsu]

The Tie Which Linked My Soul To Thee

Summary: Kate is not immune to the dangers of the land. No matter how much she loved it, the land will never love her back.

Ao3 Wattpad Masterlist - All Chapters Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5 Ch.6 Ch.8 Ch.9 Ch.10

Trigger Warning: Graphic depictions of violence and disturbing imagery. If you do not like depictions of war and torture please proceed with caution. I did heavy research for this chapter, but please know it is entirely FICTIONAL. The characters are not real, but the events are based on real American history. Tags: Arthur Morgan/Original Female Character, Widowed, Original Character, Mutual Pining, Slow Build, Eventual Smut, Eventual Romance, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, High Honor Arthur Morgan, Friends to Lovers, Child Loss, Trauma, Canon-Typical Violence, Arthur Morgan Does Not Have Tuberculosis, Arthur Morgan Deserves Happiness, Chubby Arthur Morgan, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence

Ch 7 - The Sun Can Never Dip So Low

1890

I knew I was going to die. 

If the arrow in my side does not take me, then the man who rides the horse I lay across surely will. 

I felt no pain. Perhaps it was the fever of the fight. But it didn’t hurt. I thought of screaming and thrashing, but I thought better of it. As my father would say, ‘The one good thing about problems, is they’ll still be problems later. Don’t need to deal with them right away.’

Either way, I was still going to die. 

If only my father had taught me how to survive the frontier. I know now that you must learn to recognize those who won’t survive, and be wary of their doomed decisions. They are to be avoided at all costs. Because their fear is tragedy’s closest cousin. And tragedy is contagious in this place.

My mind was snuffed by a white blanket of fear, but somehow I prayed, and prayed, and prayed. But God had already abandoned me, perhaps he never loved me at all. My life had been an endless cycle of taking, why would it stop taking now. 

I had no idea where the man was taking me. I did not speak his language. I had heard stories about the wars between the Indians and Englishman. But I did not have a way to tell them I’m not a part of it, but I knew somehow if I could it would not matter. War will turn men into predators, and women into prey. 

Only days ago I felt like I was drowning under a waterfall, but now I see this is the real river of death.

The adrenaline had begun to leak out of my body along with the blood from the arrow. I watched in a blurred haze as the droplets disappeared into the ground as the horse took us swiftly through the dark forests. The pain began creeping in along with the darkness as I blacked out. 

When I woke I found myself laying on the dirt of a fort, the sound of Englishmen talking with the Indians brought me out of my haze. I thought I had been saved, I wanted to yell and scream for help. But the conversation did not sound pleasant, I could barely make out the figure of a man who must be a general and another who must have been the chief. To my surprise, I saw a young Indian woman standing behind the general, her wrists bound. She looked my age, but deathly beaten and ill. My throat closed in. 

The chief's voice rose in anger and I watched him point at me, then at the woman. After a moment the general waved his hands, and the girl was unbound and brought to the chief, he swiftly lifted and cradled her. I knew then it was his daughter. At the same time one of the general's men came walking in my direction and I realized I wasn’t being rescued, but traded. One woman for another, and eye for an eye. 

I thought death was better than being a prisoner, as my mind raced with panic. I almost begged the Indians to turn back and kill me. 

There must be a heaven, because that night I knew I had entered the gates of hell. Crawling on my hands and knees into the belly of the beast as he took me in his bed. Night after endless night. 

My days had turned into nights, and I no longer saw the point in living. Like my eyes had become devoid of color, and the world turned black and gray. Instead of praying to be rescued, I prayed my injury would kill me. 

There were other prisoners in the fort, mostly Lakota men. I bore no hatred for their people, but entirely my own. Their greed so suffocating they took the daughter of the chief, an innocent girl who had no part in their war. And turned her into a shell of herself. All in the name of greed. It was always greed. 

I thought my life couldn’t have any more surprises for me, that it must end here. But my life was about to change yet again. 

I noticed one of the other prisoners began watching me, then leaving behind extra food and water for me. After a few days, he approached me. 

“What is your name?” he asked, his accent thick. Like my language did not fit right in his mouth. Unlike his own.

“Kate,” I answered. Surprised to hear my own voice after days of torture, “what’s yours?” 

“Egwani,” he said, “or in your language little river. That wound in your belly is going to get infected.” River nodded at the small purple wound on my stomach . The general's men had cauterized it, but my body had been rising with a fever for the past two days. 

“It’s already infected.” And I hoped it would kill me quickly. 

River shook his head, “I can help you.” 

“Why would you help me?” Not that there was any hope for me anyways. Even if he stopped the infection, I was still stuck in this hell. 

“That woman the white man traded you for, she is my wife.” 

A chill ran down my spine. I did not want to think about what they did to her infront of him. 

“You gave your life to save hers. So I will save yours.” He said sincerely. Not that I had a choice in the matter, but still. If one woman came out of this alive, then I guess my death would have some meaning to it. 

“Even if you stop the infection, these men will kill me. There’s nothing you can do, I’m going to die here.” My voice betrays my thoughts. Desperation creeping its way into the cracks. Inside I wanted the pain to end, I wanted my suffering to cease. But I was still terrified, beneath it all I longed to return home. Pretend none of it happened. Return to my old life with my family. But that version of me no longer exists. 

River chuckled softly. 

“Is something funny?” The last thing I needed was to be shown kindness and then mocked. Like the general’s men had not degraded me enough. 

“You are stubborn like the Amicalola,” he smiled. Why was he smiling? Had he not suffered just as much as I had? He must have seen his wife beaten nearly within an inch of her life, and he could do nothing, yet he was smiling at me now. 

The pain in my body made my words come out bitter and sharp, “I don’t know what that means.”

“My people’s word for waterfall. You are strong like one too. It is a good name.” 

I scoffed, how incredibly wrong he was. 

“I’m not,” I stated with a groan. My head throbbed from the fever and my body was cold from the chills as the infection raged through my insides. 

“I can give you medicine. And when my people return in a few weeks, I will escape and take you with me.” He explained. 

“I think I’d rather you just kill me now,” I said, closing my eyes. The world around me was spinning in a dark haze, gravity pulling my body down with my thoughts. 

“You could have killed yourself days ago,” River began, “you could have taken a rope to your throat, or a knife to your heart. But you did not,” I opened my eyes again and looked at him, “that is how I know you are strong. Your will to live is burning through you right now with a fever.” 

My eyes filled with tears, and my throat suddenly felt thick. For the first time in what felt like forever, my heart began to fill with hope. River closed the gap between us and placed a gentle palm on my forehead, feeling the heat of my skin. 

“I have watched you turn towards the pain as it tears into you. I have seen the way you survive, these men think they have taken everything from you. But you have not let them devour your soul.”

“I could do nothing to stop them,” I croaked. Hot tears spilling down my cheeks like water through a dry creek bed. 

“Sometimes, there is strength in surrendering. But you have surrendered nothing to the pain. I see your tears, but you do not weep,” he brushed a thumb over my wet face, “you are a warrior.” 

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

True to his word, River’s men showed up exactly two weeks later. But before that, he had given me a salve mixed from honey and sage and rubbed it over my arrow wound, as well as the numerous others I had accumulated in my time here. He also gave me an herbal tea for the infection, and by some miracle it was working. Each day I felt my strength returning to me. 

River took beatings for me, when I could not walk or do chores. Or simply when the men felt like taking their frustrations out on another human being. And I felt incredibly guilty for it. But he always assured me that I needed to save my strength for the real fight, when his people came. Yet nothing could have prepared me for what was about to unfold. 

They came under the cover of night, and used the forest and mountains to their advantage. They brought the fire, as the fort was made entirely out of wood and before long it became a fiery prison from hell. I knew our escape would not be easy, even with the help of Rivers' men. I had my strength back, but no knowledge of how to actually fight. I was lucky enough to escape with just a burn on my calf. 

It had been a bloody massacre, and the men fought savagely. The Lakota people came with arrows and tomahawks and spears, and I watched as they made the men of the fort suffer. It brought a sickening joy to my heart, to see the men who had raped me have their skulls crushed and insides ripped apart. It felt like justice. 

We lost people on our side, too many. None of the other prisoners had made it out alive. And I grieved for the other girls of the camp who did not make it like I had, it felt unfair. But we managed to escape. After hours of blazing rage, River swiftly lifted me onto the back of a horse, and together we rode far away from the fort. Only a few of his people escaped alongside us, as we left behind their final resting place. The numbing shock of war is behind me now, and hope has taken its place.

His men had informed us that his tribe had moved to the bottom of the Tennessee river, to escape the constant attacks and find refuge further west. So that is where our journey took us. As if life had still granted me the irony of continuing west, despite all the horrors I had faced to get there. 

It took us nearly three months. We traveled through the Appalachian trails and the journey was not easy. We lived rough, and we lived hard. I felt like a burden most days, as I knew I was slowing down their journey. I was still not entirely healed, and some days I felt I did not have the strength to travel at all. But River was patient, and never made me feel like it was my fault. 

He taught me how to hunt, how to fish, and how to set traps and skin animals. He even taught me some of his language, but most importantly he taught me how to survive. 

“When we kill an animal we must use all parts of it, to honor it. These creatures are innocent, and when we kill an innocent we become a little less of a man, and a little more of an animal.” He told me as he demonstrated how to properly skin a rabbit. 

Death is something we share with all creatures; rabbits, birds, horses and trees. It's everywhere, and eventually it will take everyone. Just as it had taken everyone who had loved me. Even as the stars die, we cannot run from it. 

Despite his people running from war, they could not escape death either. We arrived at River’s tribal camp, along the bank of the Tennessee river, and it had been reduced to ash. We were too late, or perhaps we were lucky, this could have been our fate too. River, and the men who came to rescue us, were the last of his people. I saw something dark enter him that day, as he held the charred bones of his wife and child. The woman whom I gave my life for, all for nought. As I stood there, living and breathing, and she did not. Their entire family history, wiped clean from the earth. 

His rage became the oil to my flame, I felt his anger mix with my own deep in my soul. All this death we had endured. Intertwined our fates like loops on a chain that bound us like shackles. But it was our grief that kept us on a tight leash. River sought revenge and justice, while I yearned to take from the world what it had taken from me. Together, we would instill fear into the heart of every man who crossed the land.

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

Kate McCanon died the day I met River. What stood before him now was the Amicalola, the waterfall. I became a woman unrecognizable. 

Like many rivers, their journeys start with quiet beginnings, but as they are nourished by the waters of experience, they gather strength, flowing swiftly and deeply towards their desired path. If you follow their course and witness where they converge — they become a creature of beauty as well as fury. I became the waterfall: untamed and unbridled, sweeping away all in my path with wild abandon.

River made me into a warrior, and with each life I took, the world felt my turmoil. Anger guided my blade, for the world had stolen my family—my husband, and my daughter. It robbed me of myself, leaving me with nothing to lose. 

“Our purpose is to ensure our enemies' fear is greater than their greed,” he told me. We hunted poachers, bandits, and thieves. But his rage was never satisfied. 

He taught me how to kill, how to torture. How to fight with weapons capable of horrific fatalities. And I welcomed it with open arms. We fought and killed together for several years before I would begin to lose myself to the bloodshed. 

We were hunting a group of poachers, when we came upon what we believed to be their camp. River was the first to drag a man from his tent, a knife already in his side. He would ask questions, and then kill him slowly. His fate sealed the moment we found their tracks. The man claimed to know nothing, but we were not convinced. And it wouldn't matter anyways, we would kill everyone in the camp. Just for the sake of it.

“What you take from the land will be taken from you. Know that I am the land, and the land is killing you.” River spoke in his native tongue as he slit the man's throat. Sickeningly slow. He would choke to death in his own blood. 

A sound came from the man's tent and a figure emerged, I drew my bow, ready to release it as they stepped out. The moment a child appeared, I wished then that I had the strength to kill myself back at the fort. I had turned into a monster. 

My heart was in my stomach as a little girl cried for her father. What have I done? I had almost killed a child. And we just killed her father, I realized we had been at the wrong camp. And I had just doomed a mother to be a widow, and a childhood to be ruined. I might as well have handed my fate over to them.

River stood before me, his face shadowed and his eyes vacant. The man who once filled my heart with hope now dwelled in darkness himself. At that moment, I knew I had to leave. I could no longer fight alongside him; our path led to a place from which I could not return. Like Persephone, Queen of the Underworld, yet born under the light of Spring, I too would journey down the river Styx.

He did not resist my departure. River assured me I would always be welcomed among his people, and if I desired, he would take me as his wife. For years, River had been my strength, and I his, but now I was leaving him—to salvage what little I had left of myself. 

After calming the child, I made a solemn vow to reunite her with her mother. This marked the beginning of my journey to break the cycle, and seek redemption for what I had done. It would also mark the end of my journey as a warrior. As we parted ways,  he whispered a message into the wind. I could not tell if it was a goodbye, or a promise, or a warning. In his tongue he told me “follow the rivers, and they will take you to the waterfall.” 

~~~

AN: I seriously appreciate all the love you guys are showing for this story. It motivates me to write more, and I'm truly having so much fun with it. Thank you! <3

[rockislandadultreads]

November is... Native American Heritage Month!

Celebrate Nation American Heritage Month with us by checking out these fiction recommendations!

Indian Burial Ground by Nick Medina

All Noemi Broussard wanted was a fresh start. With a new boyfriend who actually treats her right and a plan to move from the reservation she grew up on - just like her beloved Uncle Louie before her - things are finally looking up for Noemi. Until the news of her boyfriend’s apparent suicide brings her world crumbling down. But the facts about Roddy’s death just don’t add up, and Noemi isn’t the only one who suspects that something menacing might be lurking within their tribal lands.

Blood Sisters by Vanessa Lillie

As an archeologist for the Bureau of Indian Affairs, Syd Walker spends her days in Rhode Island trying to protect the land's indigenous past, even as she’s escaping her own. While Syd is dedicated to her job, she’s haunted by a night of violence she barely escaped in her Oklahoma hometown fifteen years ago. Though she swore she’d never go back, the past soon comes calling. When her sister, Emma Lou, vanishes, Syd knows she must return home. 

The Berry Pickers by Amanda Peters

July 1962. A Mi’kmaq family from Nova Scotia arrives in Maine to pick blueberries for the summer. Weeks later, four-year-old Ruthie, the family’s youngest child, vanishes. She is last seen by her six-year-old brother, Joe, who will remain distraught by his sister’s disappearance for years to come. Meanwhile, in Maine a young girl named Norma grows up as the only child of an affluent family. Norma is often troubled by recurring dreams and visions and, when she realizes her parents are keeping something from her, she attempts to uncover her family's secret. 

The Truth According to Ember by Danica Nava

After getting rejected for the 37th time, Ember Lee takes her job search into her own hands. She gets “creative” and answers the ethnicity question on applications with a lie - no one wanted Native American Ember, but white Ember has just landed her dream job. Not only does she thrive in corporate life, she also hits things off with the IT guy and fellow Native who caught her eye on her first day. But when they’re caught in a compromising position, a colleague blackmails Ember and threatens to expose their relationship.

[thoughtportal]

In the 1960s, Ursula K. le Guin represented a changing of the guard in science fiction literature. She was part of a generation of novelists who questioned the colonist mindset which had influenced American sci-fi for most of the 20th century. Le Guin came to this understanding not just as a moral stance or an intellectual exercise. Issues of racism and colonialism were personal to her. This episode, originally titled "The Word For Man Is Ishi,” comes from the podcast The Last Archive from Pushkin Industries hosted by Jill Lepore and Ben Naddaff-Hafrey.

[clove-pinks]

Daydreaming about a War of 1812 prestige drama, and then tormenting myself by imagining that it's just a lazy piece of USAmerican propaganda riddled with inaccuracies.

[whilereadingandwalking]

Never Whistle at Night: An Indigenous Dark Fiction anthology was a good Halloween read. It had many genuine scares. I did find myself wishing that editors Shane Hawk and Theodore C. Van Alst Jr. had been stricter with how many stories got into the anthology; the quality went very up and down throughout.

But the highlights made it well worth reading. In Mathilda Zeller's "Kashtuka," the main character is warned of violent doubles who can impersonate you; in Cherie Dimaline's "Tick Talk," a terrifying tick grows on a body in a play on resentment and grief. Characters wrestle with traumatic histories and real-life monstrousness (from residential schools to sexual assault to missing women) and with the horrors of indigenous folklore and belief, from the Weshtigo to ancient curses to uncanny doubles to creatures whose eyes flash red. They deal with Get Out–like monsters as well, whether in Rebecca Roanhorse's story about a woman willing to do near-anything to be accepted into a rich, white family, to people who collect indigenous bodies like trophies in stories by Conley Lyons and Amber Blaeser-Wardzala.

Content warnings for forced abortion, neglect/abuse, sexual assault/rape, violence/gore.

[holley4734]

A Council of Dolls: #bookreview

@MarinerBooks @NetGalley #monasusanpower #NativeAmericanfiction #acouncilofdolls #netgalley #bookblog #bookreview #BookTwitter @bibliophileRT @BlazedRTs @bloggershut #BloggersHutRT #biblioblog @_TeamBlogger #booktwt #bookstagram

From the mid-century metropolis of Chicago to the windswept ancestral lands of the Dakota people, to the bleak and brutal Indian boarding schools, A Council of Dolls is the story of three women, told in part through the stories of the dolls they carried… A Council of Dolls by Mona Susan Power follows three generations of Yanktonai Dakota women and their dolls in three different settings. The…

[not-gray-politics]

Hey so for no particular reason I'm looking to build a reading list for myself and others before 2025.

I'm primarily looking for recommendations about;

Black history & fiction

Native American history & tradition

Jewish history

Palestinian history

Intersectional Feminism

LGBT+ fiction and nonfiction (scientific reading needed)

Anarchy, socialism, communism, and other leftist political theory

Environmental science

Climate-friendly gardening and/or indigenous gardening (US)

Fat liberation

Comprehensive/inclusive sex ed

Oppressed/minority religions and spirituality

And other minority-led writing or often overlooked perspectives, as well as commonly challenged/minimized history and science. Collections of art and poetry welcome too!

[haveyoureadthispoll]

Now a special 30th-anniversary edition in both hardcover and paperback, the classic bestselling history The New York Times called "Original, remarkable, and finally heartbreaking...Impossible to put down." Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee is Dee Brown's eloquent, fully documented account of the systematic destruction of the American Indian during the second half of the nineteenth century. A national bestseller in hardcover for more than a year after its initial publication, it has sold almost four million copies and has been translated into seventeen languages. For this elegant thirtieth-anniversary edition—published in both hardcover and paperback—Brown has contributed an incisive new preface. Using council records, autobiographies, and firsthand descriptions, Brown allows the great chiefs and warriors of the Dakota, Ute, Sioux, Cheyenne, and other tribes to tell us in their own words of the battles, massacres, and broken treaties that finally left them demoralized and defeated. A unique and disturbing narrative told with force and clarity, Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee changed forever our vision of how the West was really won.

[pickledpascal]

Hold Me Like Water

Chapter Twelve: Tangled In Love

Warnings: SMUT!!! i cannot stress enough that hugh likes taking it up the ass, cowgirl position, praise kink, reminder maya has a girl dick

A/N: all i have to say is that this chapter is now very meta and ironic after jan 6th on hughtwt

Word Count: 3.4k

Hold Me Like Water Masterlist

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Early September 2024, 

Maya and Hugh had been going on a lot of dates since getting together. Some public, some not. The public dates were usually at bistros and the like, a nice gathering between friends if fans didn’t want to read too hard into it. They still hadn’t revealed their romantic relationship to the public yet.

Hell, people were already coming up with rumors. Rumors that Maya was leeching off Hugh’s money or that she was secretly weaning him off Deborah, sinking her claws into him. Maya had plenty of money from her own projects and actively gave a lot of it away. The manipulation rumors confused her. She had been friends with Hugh for years, if she truly was manipulative, she would have wanted his marriage to end sooner so they could be together sooner. But she wasn’t so she didn’t. 

Plus, they acted like Hugh wasn’t a grown man who could make his own decisions. He had children. He wasn’t some innocent young man who didn’t know how to handle pressure. 

Hugh told his children before anyone else—not that Ryan needed to be told, he could tell by the slight shift in their demeanor at the premiere. Ava and Oscar were happy for him, especially happy at the opportunity of being able to know more about his thoughts and feelings. He was more closed off about his worries and such when they were younger but he was getting better. 

He still remembered the conversation they had. It made him laugh. 

Maya wasn’t with him, wanting to give him some privacy as he told his kids. Hugh made sure Ava was with Oscar while he video called her. 

“Hey, dad!” Ava’s bright smile appeared on his screen. She adjusted her phone to get her brother in the frame as well. “What’s going on?” 

His kids were in Australia and he felt a light pang of sadness that he couldn’t see them in person to tell them the news. But Ava was still in college and Oscar was starting a new job. He couldn’t bring them everywhere with him anymore. 

Hugh rubbed his hand against his mouth. “Everything’s alright, junebug. Just have some news to share with you.” His voice was low and warm but hesitant. He wanted to choose his next words carefully. 

Oscar and Ava glanced at each other. “Okay…” Oscar said, eyebrows furrowed. 

“Maya and I… have begun dating.” Hugh confessed, pursing his lips before more words jumbled out of his mouth. “I will tell your mum too but I wanted you guys to know first because you’re my kids and I genuinely value your opinion on whoever I would have chosen at this stage in my life.” 

His children were silent after his ramblings, causing his heart to beat louder in his chest. 

“Really?” Oscar broke the silence, a look of disbelief on his face.

Hugh’s throat was suddenly dry. “Yes.”

“You’re not ready for all of that.” A laugh escaped Ava. She covered her mouth with her palm.

Hugh blinked, expression morphing into a confused look. “What–What does that mean?”

“Maya is a hot woman.” Oscar offered with a shrug. 

Hugh agreed, obviously. However, he was hit with a memory of Oscar’s eighteenth birthday. Maya was invited as she had been every year for both kids’ parties but he was begging her the entire night for a kiss. Just one. And he did get his wish. She pressed a kiss to his cheek. 

How ironic it was that the father got the woman the son was pinning after. 

As Hugh and Maya got closer, he was starting to realize just how true Ava’s words were. Maya was soft yet firm with him, easily moving him with a gentle hand on his hip if she needed to squeeze past him, tugging him into an embrace, tighter than the ones they shared previously so he could feel her soft chest and the solid planes of her torso against his, and how she pinched his chin between her thumb and index finger, angling his head just right so their noses were pressed together as they kissed. 

They sat outside, soaking up the last warm rays of the summer, sharing another lunch together. Hugh got a simple salad tossed in whatever house dressing the restaurant served while Maya got a toasted sandwich on a baguette complete with fries that he stole every so often. 

“So…” Maya popped a small fry into her mouth and chewed. “What did your kids say?” 

Hugh picked at his lettuce with a fork. “They’re happy for me, I think.” He shifted his gaze to her face, watching as she bit into her sandwich.

“You think?” Maya wiped a napkin against her lips, raising an eyebrow.

“They didn’t outright say it but they seemed happy.” He added with a shrug. “Kids can be like that.” He grabbed another fry from her plate, eating it in two bites. 

As they talked and ate, they could both feel a camera on them. This time it was a welcome intrusion. They didn’t feel like hiding their relationship for much longer. It was exhausting sneaking around. 

When they finished up their meal and paid, they stood up and kissed. It was a deep, adoring kiss that couldn’t be reasoned as friendly no matter how desperately some would want to. When they pulled away, Maya lifted a hand to her chest, faking a scandalized expression which made Hugh laugh. She went in for another kiss, placing a hand on his arm. 

Minutes later, those pictures were posted online and plastered all over Hugh fan-spaces.

Hugh and Maya went back to his apartment, toeing off their shoes once they crossed the threshold to his home. It was sprinkled with a bit of color now. A hand-made fur blanket was draped across the back of his couch, a faded navy hoodie was bunched in one of the stools that rested by the counter, and a tapestry sewn with purple, pink, orange, and red chords hung on a wall in the living room. 

Maya was slowly making it her home too. It was starting to become a wonderful mix of things they both appreciated. Hugh even had his own ulu after Maya “forgot” it. She was able to convince him to keep it after assuring him that she had plenty at her apartment. 

They migrated to the couch, lost in each other as they kissed. Maya took the lead as always, cradling the back of Hugh’s head but something switched in her brain this time. “I want to do more,” She whispered, an inch or so away from his lips. “Wanna fuck you.”

“God, yes,” Hugh groaned softly.

They had talked about what they wanted out of intimacy multiple times because Maya thought it would help both of them understand each other better. Hugh was more than willing to bottom which surprised her. He was an older man so she assumed he would want to be more careful about straining his body. Apparently not.

Hugh slid a hand between her legs, squeezing at her length underneath the confines of her jeans. She was a lot bigger than he expected. 

Maya let out a breath, warm air fluttered against his face. “Hugh,” She pushed her hips against his palm. “Shit…”

“You like that?” Hugh pressed against her dick a little more, feeling it grow harder under his touch. “I can feel that you do.” He leaned upwards to capture her lips again as his hands moved to unbutton and unzip her pants. 

Maya tried to pull away but he kept chasing after her lips. “We—” Another kiss. “We gotta get to the bedroom, honey.” 

Hugh sighed in frustration as his stopped his minstrations. “Alright…” 

She moved off the couch to stand. He looked at her, eyes dark as he stared at her unbuttoned jeans which showed off the red underwear she wore as her hard-on strained against it and made her look deliciously tempting. 

Instead of allowing Hugh to stand, she slid her arm underneath his legs and picked him up. He gasped at the show of strength, wrapping an arm around her shoulder while he was carried to the bedroom. She dropped him off in the middle of the bed, causing him to bounce slightly on the mattress. She discarded her sweater and climbed on top of him to slip his shirt off too. 

“Goddamn, love,” Hugh breathed, sliding a hand up her skin to feel the planes of her body. “You’re so beautiful.” He pecked her lips. 

Maya hummed into the kiss, pushing her clothed cock against his. She was trying to pace herself, enjoy the moment. She hadn’t done anything close to this in years and he knew that. 

She put a hand next to his head to keep herself steady. “What do you want to do, honey?” Maya asked against his lips.

Hugh let their breaths mingle for a few seconds as his brain registered what she meant. Obviously he wanted her to fuck him until he sobbed and trembled from the pleasure. “I think… I want to ride you as you lay back. Would you like that?” His eyes roamed down to the triangular tattoos on her cheeks. 

“Yeah, I really would.” Maya captured his lips, cupping the side of his head as she moved her free hand to unbutton his jeans. “You got the lube I asked you to get, right?” She pulled away from him to pull off both his jeans and boxers until he was completely bare for her. 

“Y-Yes, love,” Hugh shivered, goosebumps traveled up his skin as it was exposed to the cool air and Maya’s lustful gaze. His cock was completely hard, leaking a bit at the tip. “It’s in the nightstand.” 

Maya pushed off her jeans before she reached over to the nightstand to grab the lube. Hugh could see a wet spot forming around the bulge in her underwear. He wanted to taste her but pushed that thought away. Not yet. He would some day.

She pushed his legs so his knees bent while she settled properly between his legs. He breathed deeply as she exposed more of his body to her eyes. She poured some lube onto her fingers, rubbing the liquid onto her palm to get it warm enough so it didn’t shock him. 

“Take some deep breaths, honey. Try to relax.” Maya instructed. Her voice was low and soothing, reminiscent of some of her voice acting. 

Hugh did as she said and inhaled through his nose, exhaling through his mouth a few times. He gasped softly as Maya’s finger circled his rim and then pushed in. It burned for a few seconds before the pain gave way to pleasure. “Oh god…” His accent thickened under her intimate touch. 

She used her free hand to rub against his thigh, trying to soothe the tense muscle while she thrust the finger slowly. “You’re doing great, honey.” She murmured and she meant it. 

Hugh’s entire body was lightly flushed but it was deeper in his cheeks, his chest, and his shoulders. He looked delectable with his eyes threatening to flutter closed, dick leaking a steady stream of pre onto his navel while his hands bunched the sheets between his fingers. 

Maya slid another finger inside him, drawing a moan from him as she stretched him open. “Fuck,” He whined, “That… ah, that feels so good, love.” His body was slowly relaxing underneath her touch. He grasped at her hand on his thigh, squeezing it. “Please, Maya, need you.” He panted.

His brain was short-circuiting a bit. Hugh had been on the receiving end maybe once or twice in his life and it didn’t feel nearly as intense as this. It could be his old age or it could be Maya who, even though it was their first time together, knew how to play his body like an intricate symphony. 

“You gotta take one more finger before you take my cock, honey. Think you can do that?” Maya offered softly, rubbing her thumb against his knuckles. 

Hugh felt his dick throb at the mention of another finger. And her words. He’d never heard her say anything remotely like that before. “Yeah… Yeah, I can do that.” He couldn’t control the whiney tone of his voice. 

As she pushed a third finger inside him, Hugh’s back arched off the bed while he let out a weak cry. Maybe he couldn’t handle it. He could imagine getting off on her fingers alone. 

Maya shushed him softly, “It’s alright, honey. You’re doing great. Just need to make sure you’re ready for me.” 

When she felt like Hugh was loose enough, Maya removed her fingers. It gave him a chance to catch his breath. 

She settled in bed next to him, moving to take off her bra but her hands were quickly replaced by his. He had been wanting to touch her everywhere for a while. He slipped the straps off her shoulders and inhaled deeply as her breasts were exposed. He ducked his head to press kisses to the swell of her flesh. 

Then Hugh helped her out of her underwear, getting a good look at her dick. It was a similar size to his, eight inches or so and at full mast. “Fucking hell…” He breathed, glancing up to her mismatched eyes. 

Maya helped him straddle her waist, legs pressed up against her sides as he settled into the position. “Go slow. Take your time.” She said firmly. Overwhelming Hugh was the last thing she wanted to do.

He hovered over her leaking cock for a few moments and wrapped his hand around it, causing Maya to take in a sharp breath. Her stomach flexed for a second and Hugh found his mouth feeling dry at the sight. 

He positioned himself properly as he sunk down on top of her, one hand on her stomach to keep himself upright. His mouth fell open in a silent moan as he felt every new inch of her. Maya slid her hands up to his hips, helping to guide him down until she was fully seated inside him. 

“Let yourself adjust, honey.” Maya said softly. Her brown eye looked nearly black while her amber eye only had a rim of color left. Her fingers played across the flesh of his ass while her thumbs hooked themselves on the ridge of his hipbone. 

Hugh writhed on top of her, “I’m–I’m trying.” Much like her fingers, the feeling of her dick pushing inside him and stretching burned but in the sweetest way possible. He couldn’t keep still, he needed to feel her. 

Driven by need, he began to move up and down. Maya’s grip on him tightened. “Hugh—” Her voice cut out as she whined sharply when he pushed his hips down suddenly. 

Oh, that was a delicious sound. Better than he could have ever imagined. Being with Maya like this was better than anything Hugh could have ever imagined. 

It felt so easy, so blissful already, like they had done this a million times and they were reliving their first time all over again. He felt his chest swell with more than just desire. He was in love. So damn in love. There was nothing sweeter to him than being like this with the one he cherished more than anything. 

“Mm, love this position, baby,” He whimpered, breath hot. He could feel Maya’s muscles rippling underneath his hands. “You’re… you’re so deep.” 

Slowly but surely, he hastened the pace of his hips causing an obscene sound of skin slapping against skin. The headboard even began to rub and scrape against the wall. Hugh was so dazed on pleasure and love that he couldn’t help chasing after the feeling. His nails dig into her skin, creating small, red crescent–shaped indents. 

“Fuck—” Maya hissed, eyes screwing shut for a moment before they fluttered open again. She wanted to see Hugh, to watch his pleasured face morph and contort above her. “That’s it, take what you need, honey. Just like that.” She bucked her hips up against his.

Hugh let out a choked moan. Somehow, she was able to hit his prostate dead on. “Ah, fuck, Maya! Do that again, please, love.” He begged, rolling his hips as he tried to coax her. 

“This?” She thrusted up into him right as their hips met and hit his prostate again. She was being cheeky now.

“Yes!” He choked again, his chest constricting. He couldn’t breathe for a moment and almost lost his balance but Maya kept him steady. One of her hands slid up his back, a tingle running up his spine. Hugh whimpered loudly, “Don’t–Don’t stop, gonna cum. Need to cum.” He was trying to hold himself back. “Can I? Please?” 

Maya herself was on the edge. “Yeah, honey. It’s okay. You’re such a good boy for asking.” She praised, breathless. 

After another harsh thrust to that spot that made him see stars, Hugh felt himself letting go. He came all over her stomach, still moving along her cock as he writhed and whimpered. “Oh my god, Maya! Fuck!” His fingers curled against her torso, scratching at her skin. 

Hugh could not accurately describe the utter bliss he felt as his orgasm washed over him. He hadn’t felt so sated in such a long time. It could be that this was such a new experience for him but it could also be Maya. 

Maya and her well-placed, well-time touch. Maya and her captivating, dilated eyes that stared at him as if he was a work of art. Maya and her wonderful shows of strength, keeping him steady, flexing under his fingers, and soothing over his aching limbs. Maya and her beautiful, low voice who whispered words of praise that fell from her lips like second nature. 

“Holy fuck,” She gasped, watching him come undone on top of her. She wanted to frame the face he made. “Such a good boy, aren’t you? I love that about you,” Maya moaned softly as her orgasm hit her, spilling inside him. “Hugh, ah—”

Even though they both came, Hugh didn’t slow down yet. He was drunk on her. 

“Baby,” Maya panted, using her hands to try and still his hips. “Baby, slow down.” She feared Hugh would get overstimulated. 

He whimpered as she kept him still. “You have…” He panted, breath warm and wet, “No idea how much I love you.” He ducked down, covering her body with his to kiss her. A hand slid into the dark tresses of her hair. 

Maya hummed against his lips, running a hand along the curve of his spine. “I love you too.” Her other hand cupped his jaw, pulling him away so she could see his face. 

Hugh’s face was completely relaxed, zero lines between his eyebrows as his deep, hazel eyes gazed down at her. His lips were lightly reddened from the previous kisses they shared and there was a sheen of sweat on his forehead while he heaved for air.

He looked beautiful to her. 

Maya wrapped her arms around his waist and rolled them both over so she could slip out of him. Hugh caught her arm, a whimper escaping him. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to get something to clean you up.” She pressed a lingering kiss to the side of his head. 

She pulled away from him, gathering her bra and underwear to put them back on as she grabbed a rag from the bathroom and ran it under warm water. She wiped away some of his cum from her stomach and chest first.

Maya settled in the bed again, cleaning off Hugh’s thighs while he nuzzled into her shoulder. He pressed kisses against the skin, sliding a hand against her arm. “I love you.” He said between pecks. 

She threw the rag in the laundry. “I love you too.” Maya’s lips spread into a warm smile as she helped him back into his boxers. 

Hugh pushed his face against her chest, eyes closed as he felt the plush, soft skin support him. He circled his arms around her waist. Maya laughed, causing her chest to rumble underneath him. She pushed a hand through his hair and perched her other one on his hip, adding to his comfort. 

“Anything else you want to do?” Maya whispered, lips brushing against his forehead.

“Wanna stay like this for a while.” Hugh murmured, voice muffled.

Maya held him a little tighter, pressing her chin on top of his head. “Alright.” 

Maya had cherished him throughout their years of friendship, but never like this. Her love for him was overflowing his cup. He wished he could stay in her arms forever. But forever was not nearly enough time.