#i hope i showed you sufficient kindness

[warningsine]

https://www.nytimes.com/2024/09/02/world/europe/france-husband-rape-drug-trial-mazan.html

For years, she had been losing hair and weight. She had started forgetting whole days, and sometimes appeared to be in dreamlike trances. Her children and friends worried she had Alzheimer’s.

But in late 2020, after she was summoned to a police station in southern France, she learned a far more shattering story.

Her husband of 50 years, Dominique Pelicot, had been crushing sleeping pills into her food and drink to put her into a deep sleep, the police said, and then raping her. He had ushered dozens of men into her home to film them raping her, too, they said, in abuse that lasted nearly a decade.

Using the man’s photographs, videos and online messages, the police spent the next two years identifying and charging those other suspects.

On Monday, 51 men, including Mr. Pelicot, went on trial in Avignon, in a case that has shocked France and cast a spotlight on the use of drugs to commit sexual abuse and the broader culture in which such crimes could occur.

The accused men represent a kaleidoscope of working-class and middle-class French society: truck drivers, soldiers, carpenters and trade workers, a prison guard, a nurse, an I.T. expert working for a bank, a local journalist. They range in age from 26 to 74. Many have children and are in relationships.

Most are charged with raping the woman once. A handful are accused of returning as many as six times to rape her.

The victim, Gisèle, who has divorced her husband and changed her surname since his arrest, is now in her 70s.

Since his arrest, Mr. Pelicot, 71, has “always declared himself guilty,” said Béatrice Zavarro, his lawyer. “He is not at all contesting his role.”

Other defendants have denied the rape charges, with some arguing that they had the husband’s permission and thought that was sufficient, while others claimed they believed the victim had agreed to be drugged.

When the police showed Gisèle some of the photographs they say her husband had carefully classified and stored, she expressed deep shock. She and her husband had been together since they were 18. She had described him to the police as caring and considerate.

She had no memory of being raped, by him or the other men, only one of whom she recognized, she told the police, as a neighbor in town.

The first time she will consciously witness the rapes, her lawyer Antoine Camus says, will be in the courtroom when the video recordings are played as evidence.

The trial comes at a moment of heightened scrutiny of the handling of sexual crimes in the country. Rape is defined in French law as an “act of sexual penetration” committed “by violence, coercion, threat or surprise.” A number of feminist lawmakers want to amend that wording to say explicitly that sex without consent is rape, that consent can be withdrawn at any time, and that consent cannot exist if sexual assault is committed “by abusing a state impairing the judgment of another.”

“There is a kind of naïveté on the topic of predators in France, a kind of denial,” said Sandrine Josso, a lawmaker who led a parliamentary commission into what is known in France as “chemical submission” — drugging someone with malicious intent. She started the commission after she says she became the victim of a drugging last year. A senator is being investigated on accusations that he slipped Ecstasy into her Champagne.

Ms. Josso hopes that the Avignon trial will draw attention to the use of drugs to prey on women, and also shed light on the wide profile of predators. “They could be your neighbors, without falling into paranoia,” she said.

Mr. Pelicot seemed like a classic man next door. He was a trained electrician, an entrepreneur and an avid cyclist. His middle child and only daughter, Caroline Darian, her pen name, described him as a warm and present father in a book published in 2022 about the case, “And I Stopped Calling You Papa.” She tried to turn her family trauma into action, forming a nonprofit association, “Don’t Put Me to Sleep,” to publicize the dangers of drug-facilitated crimes.

Her father, she wrote, was the one who drove her to school, picked her up late from parties, encouraged her and consoled her. Her mother was the stable breadwinner, working as a manager in a Paris-area company for 20 years.

When Gisèle retired, they moved to a house with a big garden and pool in Mazan, a small town northeast of Avignon. The couple regularly hosted their three children and grandchildren for summer vacations peppered with late dinners on the terrace, where the family debated, held dance competitions and played Trivial Pursuit.

“I think of us as happy,” his daughter wrote. “I thought my parents were.”

None of them harbored any suspicions. Then, in 2020, three women reported Mr. Pelicot to the police for trying to use his camera to film up their skirts in a grocery store, and he was arrested.

The police seized his two cellphones, two cameras and his electronic devices, including his laptop, before releasing him on bail.

On the devices, the police say they found 300 photographs and a video of an unconscious woman being sexually assaulted by many people. They said they also found Skype messages in which the man boasted of drugging his wife and invited men to join him in having sex with her while she was unconscious.

Over the course of their investigation, the police found more than 20,000 videos and photographs, many of them dated and labeled, in an electronic folder titled “abuse.” The timeline they built began in 2011. The list of suspects grew to 83.

Two months after his initial arrest, Mr. Pelicot was arrested again and charged with aggravated rape, drugging and a list of sexual abuse charges. He is also accused of violating the privacy of his wife, daughter and two daughters-in-law on suspicion of illegally recording, and at times distributing, intimate photos of them.

If he is found guilty, he faces up to 20 years in prison.

During interviews with the police, the details of which were included in an overview of the case by the investigative judge, Mr. Pelicot said he began drugging his wife so he could do things to her, and dress her in things, that she normally refused. Then he started inviting others to participate. He said he never asked for or accepted money.

He met most of the men, the investigating judge’s report stated, in a chat room on a notorious, unmoderated French website implicated in more than 23,000 police cases in France alone from 2021 to 2024. It was finally shut down, and its owner arrested, in June after an 18-month investigation stretching across Europe.

The chat room where most of the men met Mr. Pelicot was called “a son insu,” which means “without their knowledge.”

Over the years, Mr. Pelicot told the police, he developed rules for the visitors to ensure that his wife did not wake: no smoking or cologne; undress in the kitchen; warm hands under hot water or on a radiator, so their cold touch would not jolt her. At the end of each night, according to the investigating judge’s report, he cleaned his wife’s body.

Of the 83 suspects, the police identified and charged 50.

Only one of the men is not charged with rape, assault or attempted rape of Mr. Pelicot’s wife. Instead, that man is accused of following the same model, and drugging his own wife to rape her. Mr. Pelicot is also charged with raping the man’s wife while she was drugged.

Five of the men also face charges for possessing child sexual abuse imagery.

Mr. Pelicot is also being investigated in the rape and murder of a 23-year-old woman in 1991 and the attempted rape of a 19-year-old in 1999. He admitted to the attempted rape, according to Florence Rault, the lawyer representing the victims in both cases, but denies any involvement in the 1991 homicide.

The story has prompted some soul-searching among doctors, since Gisèle had visited gynecologists and neurologists over a series of mystifying symptoms, but had received no diagnosis, according to her daughter.

“What I found disturbing for us doctors was that no doctor considered this hypothesis,” said Dr. Ghada Hatem-Gantzer, a well known obstetrician-gynecologist and expert in violence against women. She and a pharmacist, Leila Chaouachi, have now developed training for doctors and nurses on the symptoms that victims of drug-facilitated assault can experience.

Contrary to popular belief, most cases occur at home, not at bars, said Ms. Chaouachi, who runs annual surveys on such offenses in France. Most victims are women, the surveys show, and around half of the victims do not remember the attack, because of blackouts, she said.

In the case going to court in Avignon, some of the accused admitted guilt to the police. According to the investigating judge’s report, many claimed that they were tricked into having sex with a drugged woman — lured by a husband for a three-way encounter and told she was pretending to sleep, because she was shy.

Several said they believed that she had consented to being drugged and raped as part of a sex fantasy. Some said they did not believe it was rape, because her husband was there and they believed he could consent for both of them.

“It sends shivers down the spine regarding the state of affairs in French society,” said Mr. Camus, who is also representing Ms. Darian and many other members of the family. “If that’s the conception of consent in sexual matters in 2024, then we have a lot, a lot, a lot of work to do.”

[roseghoul26]

Cooper Howard x vault born reader. She's from one of the more messed up experiment vaults, when she uncovered the truth of the vault she runs away from it. The first interaction they have is when he tells her he fucking hates vault dwellers and she tells him "I don't really give a shit what YOU think of me". She's been in the wastes a good long while, has a lot of skills and they end up traveling together and getting close. The area she is naive in is sex her interpretation is it's boring, and hurts. He of course tries to explain that it's not suposed to feel like that. They become really close he asks if he can show her which she agrees, she cums harder than she ever has before he has to remind her to breath through it, maybe she squirts and is embarrassed he realizes it's new for her, tells her it normal and that he loves it. Bonus points for: squirting, choking, hair pulling.

Cooper Howard | The Ghoul x fem!Reader

Synopsis: A discussion with The Ghoul reveals things that you never wished to tell him, including your views on intimacy, and lack of experience. When he offers to show you what you were missing out on, how could you say no? Tags: Not Beta Read, Prompt Request, Backstory for Reader, Virgin Reader, Inexperienced Reader, Banter, This one might be even more OOC for The Ghoul, Soft Ghoul, Smut, Squirting, Doggystyle, Hair Pulling, Dirty Talk, Choking, Confessions (kind of) Author's Note: i know that vault 75 is actually like on the other side of the us from where the show takes place but this vault always stuck out to me so i needed to use it for the prompt lmao.  also thank you anon for the amazing prompt (and my first ever request :D) ! i hope this fulfilled it sufficiently!

If you’d told yourself a year ago that you’d be traveling the surface with an irradiated man dressed as a cowboy who only kept you around because you could make him his drugs, you’d call yourself insane, and rightfully so.

But here you were, following after him like an obedient soldier, just like you were raised to be. For the past few months, you had wandered alongside The Ghoul, searching for your purpose on the surface. There was a deal between you two; he’ll travel with you, and you’d make him the chems that stopped him from turning into a feral. 

It was a reluctant acquaintanceship at best, The Ghoul keeping you at an arm's length, and you didn’t blame him. The reason he had difficulty trusting you fully was because you were vault born, which he made abundantly clear when the two of you first started traveling. You spent the first eighteen years of your life in Vault 75,  where you were trained, both mentally and physically, to become the perfect soldier and scientist that would bring justice to the surface world. That had been your life’s goal, up until you turned eighteen. 

Along with the rest of the top peers, you were selected to make your way to the surface. But before you could leave they provided a vaccine, claiming that it would build immunity against the radiation that still plagued the earth. 

In actuality, it had been a sedative, and you remember awaking some time later, suspended in a glass chamber. For days, months, years, you weren’t quite sure, you were prodded, stabbed, cut open. It was pure agony, moments that you only remember in your darkest dreams, leaving you panting and shaking. To this day, you still weren’t fully sure what they had done to you, but you knew they had quite literally taken things from you that you’d never get back. 

Somehow, you managed to break free of the sedative that they continuously pumped into your body, keeping you alive yet without control of your body. You weren’t certain how you managed to escape, but you remembered that your hands and knuckles were bloody pulps, glass embedded into the flesh, fingers broken and mangled. Even now, you could still see the scars that still lingered, and the way your fingers looked off, bones not set right. It caused you issues and aches, but luckily today was a low-pain day. 

A gruff drawl snapped you out of your reminiscing, and you looked up from your hand into the eerily human eyes of The Ghoul, who had stopped in front of you. “What?” You had missed what he said. 

“The fuck you doin’?” 

“I… my hand hurts,” you lied. “Sorry.” 

He angrily grumbled something under his breath, yet you watched him dig into one of the pockets of his trench coat. He pulled out a small pill bottle, and after double-checking the contents he tossed it to you, and you caught it with your non-injured one. “Keep yer head on,” he added before turning to keep walking. 

You didn’t have to look at the bottle to know what he’d given you: painkillers. He’d always give them to you whenever your pain would flare, and each time you reevaluate your relationship with him. You couldn’t figure out if he detest you or cared about you, whether he saw you as a friend or foe. He was a confusing person, and his hard exterior and guarded responses to your questions made him hard to understand. 

“Thanks,” you mumbled, and if he heard you he didn’t respond, just continuing to walk away. Tucking the pills away, you jogged to catch up with him, keeping a few feet distance between the two of you. 

Looking around, you tried to make some sense of the dilapidated buildings and cracked roads, creating an image in your head of what you imagined the town to once be. Full of energy, full of life, able to roam without fear of being killed by man or creature, or fear of being slowly poisoned to death by radiation. 

There was a row of buildings on either side of the road, most caved in, but there were still a few that remained, windows shattered or boarded up. Rusted mental skeletons of cars littered the road, you and The Ghoul having to weave around them. Glass crunched underneath your boots, and you swore you stepped on a few bones. 

Glancing at the road, you noted how elongated the shadows were, and you didn’t have to glance behind you to know that the sun was setting, night right on the precipice of falling. Not wanting to become a late night snack for a deathclaw or some ferals, you cleared your throat, getting the attention of The Ghoul. He stilled, turning his head over his shoulder to look at you. “We should find a place to stop soon.”

You watched him debate it for a second, eyes flicking from the setting sun to the walk in front of him, then to the buildings on either side of you two. Eventually he came to a decision, sighing. “There’s a standin’ building’ down a little ways. We’ll stop there.”

You were eager to finally rest, the rifle in your hands was becoming heavy and the straps of your backpack were digging into your shoulders, so you had a bit more energy in your step as you continued down the street. As you reached the end of the street, you were able to see the building he had mentioned. It was an old shop of sorts, any signs long since gone, but it looked still relatively intact.

The Ghoul got there first, like he normally did. Opening the door with one hand, he held his gun in the other, raised and ready to shoot. He swept the room as he entered, and you follow hot on his heels, gun at the ready. 

In the dim light, you were able to see rows of shelves in the main area, a small desk with a register tucked into the left corner. There was a closed door behind the desk, and another on the rightmost wall of the building, also closed. 

Stepping further in, you were able to start making out the contents on the shelves: boxes and packages of food, no doubt beyond edible, labels faded away. But you also saw a few cans of food littering about, but you’d have to look through them once you’d cleared the building. 

Focusing back on the task at hand, you watched him peer into the far right room, before turning and speaking to you. “Check the desk,” he kept his voice low, as to not alert any possible dwellers. Nodding, you carefully made your way over to the desk, eyes rapidly scanning your environment. 

You tried to open the door, but it merely rattled against the frame, locked shut. If you had the tools, or the patience, you would’ve tried to pick the lock, but you didn’t care that much. Besides, if there was anything in there that was alive, it wouldn’t be able to get you. 

The desk didn’t have much to offer, either. Partial destroyed papers dotted the desk, and the register sat broken and open, robbed of the pre-war cash that once resided in it. You were a tad bit disappointed; it always made for great kindling. 

Searching through the rest of the drawers, you only found garbage, and after a few moments you gave up trying to find anything of value. You slowly made your way back over to The Ghoul, who had better luck than you with his door. You could hear him digging through drawers as you entered, and you were sure to make some audible noise so as to not startle him. 

It was a small living area, a twin bed tucked into the corner, as well as a kitchenette and small desk. A TV and couch sat in the center, and you saw another door, opened by The Ghoul, which you presumed was the bathroom. “Not bad,” you commented. This was truly one of the better places the two of you had stopped at; this at least had four walls and a roof. 

He grunted in response, still rifling through drawers. “Find anythin’?”

You shook your head. “I’ll go look again,” you responded, and before you backed out of the room you dumped your bag on the floor. You sighed happily at the relief, rubbing your shoulders as you began to look through the shelves again.

You didn’t bother to look at the boxed goods, heading straight to the few canned items you saw. The cans were still whole, thankfully, but the labels were long since gone. Shrugging, you grabbed the cans, about four in total, and brought them back to the other room, dumping them on the counter of the kitchenette. 

“What’s that?” You heard him ask, spurs clicking on the linoleum floor as he came over to you. The room was now illuminated by a small oil lantern placed on the desk. 

“No idea. But they’re still good. Probably.” You spoke as you moved to sit on the counter, legs dangling. Man, did it feel good to sit after walking all day. You reached for your knife, cursing when you felt empty space instead, your knife in the bag instead of on you. 

Before you could even get down, The Ghoul handed you his knife, the blade glinting in the low light. He pointed the handle towards you, and you took it from him, and you murmured a small thanks. You got to work opening the first can, hunger making your stomach rumble. The knife plunged in and out of the tin top, peeling back the rest once you got most of it cut. 

It was an almost gelatinous red substance inside, with darker red, round something suspended in it. It smelled sweet, sugary even, and you tried to tilt it into your mouth, but it didn’t budge. Maybe it had gone bad, then. 

Confused, you reached down to the drawer that was in between your legs, managing to get it open enough to reach your hand in. You grabbed the first utensil feeling thing you could find, and to your delight it was a fork. You didn’t waste any time, taking a decent-sized forkful and bringing it to your mouth. 

It was overwhelmingly sweet, and you’re sure you made some face, because The Ghoul was chuckling lightly. It wasn’t bad, but it almost hurt to eat, and the gelatinous nature of it made it stick to your teeth. “That’s whatcha get for eatin’ unlabeled food.”

You shook your head. “It’s not bad. It’s just… sweet.”

He hummed curiously, and you offered the can to him. You laughed when he eyed it suspiciously. “I promise you, it doesn’t taste bad. And I haven’t poisoned it,” you teased.

“I’m surprised you haven’t,” he grumbled, but he took the can from you. 

“I wouldn’t,” you grabbed and handed a utensil to him. “I rather like your company.”

See, as fun as it was to be out on the road, nothing but the endless horizon in front of you, it was the nights that you truly cherished. He didn’t talk much while you walked, keeping a literal and metaphorical distance between the two of you. It was like when he was on the road, he was The Ghoul, a cunning and vicious bounty hunter. But when it was just the two of you, secluded away in some abandoned house, around a fire, wherever, it was like the human side of him resurfaced, leading way to conversation and… friendship? 

You had no idea if he considered you a friend, but you knew you considered him to be one. It wasn’t like you had any other person in this wretched world, your “friends” from the vault turned enemy. As a wanderer, it was hard to build and maintain relationships with other people, so you chose to just stick with The Ghoul. 

And you wouldn’t lie, there was something beyond “friendship” that you felt for The Ghoul. It had taken too long for you to even admit that to yourself, so it was unlikely that you were going to admit to him. Besides, it went against everything that you were raised to believe, and even though you’d long since left the vault, their ideas were still ingrained into your brain.

“Not sure why,” he muttered before eating a spoonful of the mysterious substance. You were barely able to see it, but his upper lip twitched into an almost smile. You always liked when he smiled. It was rare for him, a genuine smile. He’d sneer and smirk, sure, but it was those true smiles that got your heart beating faster and your knees getting weak. You refused to name the reason why your body reacted the way it did, not wanting to face the reality that you felt something for The Ghoul just yet.

“It’s pie filling. Cherry pie filling, to be exact,” he lifted up another spoonful, one of the dark red balls on it, covered in the sheer red substance. 

“Cherry pie filling?” You said each of the words as their own question. You’d never heard of any of what he was talking about. 

He rolled his eyes, handing the can back to you, and you took another bite. You still weren’t used to the sweetness of it. “Fuckin’ vault dwellers,” he sighed. “Cherry’s a fruit. Pie is a pastry. Filling is what you put into pie.”

It didn’t clear up anything, but you nodded anyway, not wanting to annoy him further. “Interesting.” Taking one final bite, you set it next to you, moving on to the next can. You were in the middle of opening the second one when he spoke

“You mean to tell me they didn’t have pie in your vault?”

You weren’t expecting his question, and you halted mid-cut. He never asked you about the vault you grew up in, and you never told him anything besides the name and that you left. He made his opinion on vaults and vault dwellers abundantly clear when you first met all those months ago, back when your relationship was a tenuous allyship. You hadn't cared what he thought about you and your old life then, telling him straight to his face, and you certainly didn’t care now. But it was curious that he was willingly asking you about it now. 

“No,” you drew out the word, mildly suspicious. “If it didn’t have good nutritional value, then it wasn’t allowed. So no candy, no sugary drinks, no pastries. Nothing like that.” You answered while opening up the second can, and you recognized it immediately: sweet corn.

He didn’t ask any further questions, so you didn’t elaborate. Not needed to do a taste test of the sweet corn, you set it aside, then opened the other two cans, which were baked beans and tomato soup. Wordlessly, The Ghoul grabbed two of the cans, making his way over to the couch, and you followed behind him, the other two cans in your own hands. 

Sitting side-by-side, the two of you ate in silence, and you propped your legs up on the coffee table in front of you. The two of you would eat half the can before passing it off to the other. It was how you shared your dinners for at least the past month. 

It didn’t take long for there to only be the pie filling left, and you held it in your better hand. Even though you’d been free from the vault for some time, a part of you still felt wrong for indulging in a treat like this. Pushing those memories aside, you took another bite before passing it to the man next to you. You jumped when you felt his gloved fingers brush yours, and you missed the way he knowingly chuckled. 

Sighing, you sat back against the couch, ignoring the armor that dug into your shoulders, and you found your eyes flicking back down to your hand. You traced over the scars littering it, a familiar pattern to you at this point, and you flexed your fingers. They popped and cracked, bending unnaturally, and it caused a small jolt of pain to shoot through the nerves. You hadn't realized your eyes weren’t the only one on it until you heard the man beside you speak. “How’d that happen?” 

Now you were suspicious; he sounded like he actually cared. “Did you get replaced with a synth?” You asked, bewildered. 

He rolled his eyes in response, taking another bite before setting the can on the coffee table in front of you two. “I realize I don’t know a lot ‘bout you.”

“I didn’t think you cared,” you admitted. “But,” you added when he glared at you, “if you really want to know, I got it by punching something. Repeatedly.”

“If that’s your fist, I’d hate to see the other person,” he muttered. 

“Something, not someone. It was, well, glass.”

“Why the fuck were you punchin’ glass?”

“It was the only way I could escape.” You laughed humorlessly when he glanced at you, confused. “What, you think I left the vault freely?” You shook your head. “After my eighteenth birthday, they trapped me in a chamber so they could harvest stuff from my body, pumping me full of sedative and rapid-healing agents. Something about creating the ‘perfect human’. Eventually, the drug they used to keep me docile stopped working, and I was able to smash my way out. I’m pretty sure there’s some glass still left in my hand,” you chuckled, stopping when you realized he wasn’t joining in. “It’s fine. I’ve repressed most of the memories anyway.”

“Not well enough,” he muttered more to himself, and you couldn’t help the small bit of dread that washed over you at the realization that he knew about your nightmares. They made you feel weak, and you didn’t want him to think you were. 

“Well, I….” You trailed off with a sigh, finding it not worth it to try and disagree, sitting back on the couch. “Rude.”

“So you do have nightmares.” He chuckled at the glare you gave him once you realized you fell into his trap. “Are they ‘bout that?”

“Is this an interrogation?” You asked, getting defensive. “Why the fuck do you care? You haven’t before.”

“If ya paid attention, I said I barely know anythin’ ‘bout you. Figured if we’re gonna continue to travel I should know more besides your name.” He sighed before adding, “This ain’t an interrogation. You… you can ask me whatcha like.”

His reluctant openness made you feel more comfortable, and you relaxed a bit. “Really?”

“Sure, why the hell not. But answer my question first.”

There was silence for a few beats. “Fine. Yes, they’re about when they had me trapped. It’s… it’s mostly the pain I remember. And their faces, the people who raised me, who I trusted.  watching me through the glass. I forget most of the details when I wake, but that’s what sticks out.”

The Ghoul didn’t offer any verbal response, merely nodding his head slowly. You prayed that he couldn’t see the way your hands shook as you willingly brought up those memories in your brain. You shoved them away, forcing a light smile on your face. “My turn.” Adjusting so that your back rested against the arm of the sofa so you were facing him now, your knees tucked up to your chest. “What’s your name?”

He scoffed. “Out of all the questions, that’s the one ya go with?” 

“You don’t have to-”

“Cooper. Cooper Howard.” His response cut you off, and a small smile lifted the corners of your mouth. 

“A pleasure, Cooper Howard,” you smiled gently. It was hardly noticeable, but something shifted in him when he heard you say his name, but you weren’t quite sure what exactly. 

He cleared his throat while adjusting in his seat, his eyes flicking away from your own. “Better not make me regret tellin’ ya that.” 

Your slight smile fell at his semi-threat. “I’m assuming you don’t want me to call you that, then.” His responding silence was answer enough, and you didn’t press it further. “Do you got any more questions for me?”

“Plenty,” he seemed more comfortable now that the attention was off his past life. “Why the hell are ya still travelin’ with me?”

You thought of your answer for a moment. “I wasn’t lying when I said I enjoyed your company. And it’s not like I’ve got any place to go.”

“We’ve traveled to plenty of towns. Why don’t ya just stay there?”

“Do… Do you want me to leave?” It almost hurt to ask. You thought things were amicable between the two of you, and the thought of leaving your one “friend” was something you truly did not want to think about.  

He regarded you for a few moments, eyes dancing over your face. “I suppose not,” he finally sighed out, crossing his arms and resting against the back of the couch.

“Good,” you tried to not sound too relieved. “You’re stuck with me.” You swore you saw a smile tug at his lips.

“Unfortunately.” He didn’t sound too upset about it. “Anythin’ else?”

“Why didn’t you kill me when we met? I tried to rob you, and I’ve seen you kill people for less. You had the gun right to my head; why didn’t you pull the trigger?”

“That’s two questions.”

Rolling your eyes, you scoffed. “They’re the same damn thing. Just… why didn’t you kill me?”

“I dunno why I didn’t kill ya right away. Somethin’ made me hesitate. And then once I realized you was a vault born, I figured I could get a good amount of caps for you, so I kept you alive.” The Ghoul sighed. “I expected to only keep ya ‘round for a week. But then you saved my life, even though I had ya captive, and I couldn’t bring myself to sell you. That’s when I set you free.” He chuckled as he reminisced. “But for some fuckin’ reason, you decided to stick around, and I thought I was gonna regret not killin’ or sellin’ ya.”

“Do you regret it?”

“That’s three questions now, sweetheart.” Your cheeks grew warm at the nickname. It wasn’t the first time he’d called you it, but it always elicited the same reaction from you. “But no. It’s nice, havin’ someone you trust enough to watch your back. After years of solitude, wanderin’ this godforsaken Wasteland with you has been a pleasant change.”

You don’t think you’ve ever heard anyone regard you so kindly, which was insane because of who it was coming from. “Thank you,” you responded, sincerely.

“Before I inflate your ego any more, it’s my turn. Do you miss life in the vault, back before all… that?” He gestured to your hand. 

“Honestly, you’d think I would,” you chuckled. “No danger around every corner, no radiation, no worry about dehydration or starvation. It was secure, but so constricting. Every part of my life was monitored, from the foods I ate, to the things I did, to the people I spoke to. If the higher ups didn’t like it, they’d make me change. If anything threatened the ability to become the most optimized person, then it was removed. I’ve had more freedom during the time I’ve spent up here than I did for the first eighteen years of my life.” You took a breath. “So, no, I don’t miss it.”

It went like that for a good while, you weren't quite sure how long, and eventually the two of you finished off the pie filling. Questions were shot back and forth, and you learned some things about the man beside you that you never thought you’d know. He learned more of the experiments led by Vault 75, and your role in it. You refrained from asking him about his life before becoming The Ghoul, and although he didn’t say it, you could tell that he was grateful. He had long since shed his coat, draping it across the back of the couch, down to only a once luscious blue button down. His hat was also off, sitting on the table alongside the now empty cans. 

You had asked him about the strangest person he’d met, and he was recounting this one “doctor” he’d met in Filly, with greased hair and a rotted cap, selling ailments for quite literally every predicament. “Pretty sure he was fuckin’ the livestock,” he added, and you gapped at him, horrified. “Strange fellow indeed. But, after that it probably has to be this vault born I met, who no matter what I do, refuses to leave.”

“I’m second after that? I… fuck you!” You’d never sworn at him before, but now felt like a good time to change that. 

His brow raised, shocked, and he grinned at you. “Looks like I’m rubbin’ off on ya, sweetheart.”

Rolling your eyes, you tried to hide your own smile behind your knees, which were still tucked up close to you. “It’s your turn. Although, I don’t know if I wanna respond after you insulted me like that.”

“My apologies,” he responded, not sounding sorry at all, especially with the way he continued to chuckle as he thought of a question. “Did ya have friends? Lovers, perhaps?”

If you weren’t blushing because of the nickname, then you certainly were now. It was a taboo subject in your vault, having lovers. Romantic companionship was seen as a hindrance, a liability. “I had some friends, sure, but they all turned out to be back-stabbers or were taken like me. I don’t know if they survived; I couldn’t stop to rescue them if I wanted to live.” You shook off the bit of guilt you felt when thinking of the others. “But I wasn’t close friends with anyone. As weird as it is, you’re the closest thing to a true friend I’ve ever had.”

“You only answered half my question.” Damn him. “Any lovers?”

“No.” Your hand was looking quite interesting now, and you traced over the familiar pattern of the scars again. 

“‘No’? That’s it?” If looks could kill, The Ghoul would be six feet under right now. “Touchy subject?” 

You realized that no matter what you said, he was still going to continue to ask. Groaning, you let your head sag back off the couch, not wanting to make eye contact with him when you responded. “We weren’t allowed to take… lovers. There were no romantic relationships allowed in the vault; they were seen as a liability. And I know that they’re not, but it’s been drilled into my brain that they’re wrong, that they’re… improper, and I’d rather not talk about it.”

When he didn’t respond, you thought he lost interest in the subject, and you slowly began to lift your head back up. “How the fuck did you guys repopulate?” And there your head went back down, face burning. 

“IVF. They took the eggs and sperm from the captives, as they were the best genetically, physically and mentally, and then put them in the body of one of the scientists.” You chose to not add the fact that there was an entirely real possibility that you had a kid or two.

“So no sex then?”

Something like a groan and a curse left your lips, and you squeezed your eyes shut, embarrassment and something else washing over you. How you wished for a raider or synth or anything to break down the door and kill you. “No,” you responded, and you missed the way his gaze locked on to you, intrigued by your answer.

“So you’ve never-”

“No!” You didn’t let him finish his question, not caring about what you just admitted to him.

“Not even after you left?”

“No.” You were getting really tired of your same responses. 

“Why not? It ain’t like you got your vault monitoring everythin’ ya do anymore.”

“Well…” you sighed, running a hand over your hot face. “It seems boring, from what I heard. I’m just supposed to, I dunno, sit there in pain while they use me for their own pleasure. It’s never appealed to me.” That last part was a lie, and you both knew it. You just wanted to hold on to some semblance of your pride that was lying in tatters around you.

He had the audacity to laugh, and you wished the couch would just swallow you whole. “I dunno who told ya that, but it ain’t like that. Not even fuckin’ close.”

Shakily, you exhaled, your heart feeling like it was about to beat out of your chest. You couldn’t believe you were having this discussion, with The Ghoul of all people. His next words had you going deathly still, staring wide-eyed at the mildewed ceiling. “Can I show ya?” 

In just one sentence, he managed to change the entire atmosphere of the conversation, of your relationship. You wouldn’t deny, the idea of being intimate with him was appealing, and definitely not the first time you’d thought of it. What made this time different, though, was that you didn’t push those thoughts away, disgust and shame not overwhelming you. And it was also different because this wasn’t just a scenario that you’d played out in your head, alone while you slept. No, this was actually happening. 

“What?” You managed to stammer out, sitting up slowly. Your mouth went dry at the way he stared at you, almost hungrily. You squirmed under his intense gaze, which seemed to please the man. 

“Can I show ya what it’s supposed to feel like?” He repeated again, and one of his gloves hands crept across the couch, resting an inch away from where your legs were. “If ya don’t want this, just say the word, and we can pretend like this ain’t ever happened. But I can promise ya won’t regret it.” For once, you were grateful for his self-assurance and cockiness, as it bolstered your own confidence in your decision. 

It felt like five hours had passed before you nodded, and you felt his hand brush up your clothed calf, gripping the muscle lightly. “Lemme hear ya say it, sweetheart.”

Even though it was far from the first time he’d called you sweetheart, the implications now made your face burn even more. He made it sound dirty, and you had to take a breath before speaking. “Show me.” Your voice barely came out as a whisper; any louder and you feared it would crack.

You let out a startled noise when he pulled you close to him using the hand on your calf, the action effortless; you’d forgotten how unnaturally strong he was. You were now laying down fully on the couch, hair splayed out around you. He moved between your legs, hands now braced on either side of your head as he leaned above you. His face hovered a few inches from yours, and you could feel his breath as he spoke. “You gotta let me know if ya don’t like somethin’, deal?”

“Deal.” 

You shivered when you felt him caress your cheek, a surprisingly gentle gesture from the rough man you knew. He smiled at your body’s response to him. “Finally,” he muttered out, but you didn’t get a chance to ask for further elaboration before his lips were on yours. 

Unlike his touch, they weren’t gentle, almost bruisingly strong against yours. You groaned, and you could feel him smirk. The hand that had been touching your face settled, grasping the side of your face in a warm, gloved palm. The other hand remained braced by your head, keeping him upright. You found yourself latching your own around his wrist, the other grabbing a handful of his shirt, trying to find some way to keep you grounded. 

Kissing felt even better than you’d imagined it would. You didn’t think it would be so enjoyable, feel so good, so right. It was like his lips were made to slot perfectly against yours. If you concentrated hard enough, you could taste cherry pie filling the both of you had eaten. You jolted when you felt teeth tug at your bottom lip, a droplet of pain in the sea of pleasure, and your grip tightened even more, threatening to tear the clothing. You didn’t think he would mind. 

Energy pulsed through your body, and you found yourself unconsciously beginning to move, your hips moving in small circles. A familiar tension began to form in your lower body, something you felt during your late night thoughts of The Ghoul. Even though it was only just forming, you’d never felt it this intensely before, and you were desperate for some kind of relief. 

An amused chuckle left him, pulling away slightly to do so. You almost whined at the loss of contact, and you attempted to pull him back down with the hand that currently had a fistfull of his clothing, but he didn’t budge. “Eager?” It was a rhetorical question, but you found yourself nodding anyway. 

“Please.” What you were asking for, you weren’t quite sure. Your words trailed off into a sigh when you felt his lips return, this time along your jaw by your ear. He left your cheek, running down the front of your body tantalizingly slow. 

“Where’s these manners comin’ from?” It sounded like his voice had turned raspier, and it elicited a shiver from your body, his lips still pressed close to your ear. “If this was all it took for ya to start actin’ all proper, then I would’ve done this weeks ago,” he teased, and his fingers ran underneath your breasts. 

Maybe it was his lips on your skin, or the way he pressed his body into yours, or the way he touched you, but you lost control of the words tumbling from your mouth. “I would’ve let you,” you admitted, and even though it was quiet you heard his breath hitch. 

“Yeah?” His voice had somehow gotten even raspier, and he groaned when you nodded. “Fuck, sweetheart,” his teeth nipped at your earlobe before moving further down your neck. You no longer felt his lips; instead you felt tongue and teeth leaving marks, growing more fervent as he descended. 

You let go of his shirt, your fingers popping uncomfortably, yet you paid it no mind. You rested your hand on the back of his head instead, almost immediately pulling it away, unsure if he wanted to be touched or not. But you felt him gently grab your wrist, bringing your hand back to where it had once been, making an approving noise when your fingers made contact. 

When he reached the strap of your shoulder armor, you felt him immediately get to work at losing the strap, and you sighed in relief when fresh air hit the newly exposed skin. He tossed it to the side somewhere, and it didn’t take long for your chestpiece to join it. The only thing left on the top half of your body was your bra and tank top, yet you felt completely naked, both because of the lack of armor and the way his eyes bore into your body.

His eyes trailed over the top of your chest, which was rising and falling rapidly, greedily taking in the swell of your breasts. You gasped when he took them in his hands, kneading and toying with the tender flesh. Even through the thick material of his gloves and your clothing, you could still feel his heat. But you wanted to feel him closer. You wanted to feel his bare hands on your body. 

Before you could even comprehend what you were doing, you were tearing off your tank top, throwing it somewhere in the room. You arched your back, your chest pressing further into his touch, and he groaned. Reaching behind, you had enough confidence to unlatch your bra and remove it, but not enough to look him in the eye. Your cheeks were burning, a flush creeping down your neck. 

“Fuckin’ perfect,” you heard him mutter, and his praise gave you enough confidence to finally return your gaze to his, expecting them to be locked on your chest. And they were, at least until he felt your eyes on him. His pupils were blown out, irises gone, and the almost predatory smirk on his face made you look away again, the tension in your body growing. 

“Take them off,” you whispered when his touch returned. His movement stilled, much to your dismay. “Your gloves,” you pleaded. “Take them off.”

When he didn’t respond, you forced your attention away from the ceiling, breath catching when you looked into his eyes. “And here I was praisin’ your manners,” he rebuked, and even through the lust in his eyes you could see a playful glint. “C’mon, you can do better than that.”

“Please take your gloves off,” you responded immediately, not caring if you sounded desperate. “I wanna feel your hands on me, please.”

“Much better,” he practically purred, and you watched him bring a hand up to his own mouth, tugging the glove off his hand with his teeth and letting it fall, landing on your body. It almost felt wrong to see his hands without gloves on them; it felt like he was more undressed than you.

He wasted no time in returning his now bare touch to your breasts, and it felt better than you thought it would. Fingers dexterously toyed with your now perked nipples, pulling little noises from you. You never thought it would be enjoyable to have someone playing with your breasts like this, but you were happily proven wrong.

It was when his mouth joined the fray that your noises turned louder, his lips wrapping around your other nipple. When his teeth grazed the sensitive bud, your hips bucked right against his, and you felt him groan against your chest. Wanting to hear that noise again, you repeated the action, and your ears were blessed once again. 

But your victory was short lived, and the hand that had been by your head the entire time finally moved, pressing your hips down into the couch. “Behave,” you heard him growl, not halting his attention towards your chest. But you did see his eyes flick up, making it look like he was glaring at you, and you found your mouth going dry. You nodded, not finding it in yourself to go against him just yet, to see how far you could push him. You hoped there would be a next time.

He continued to lavish your chest for a few more moments, swapping his hand and mouth, continuously building up that tension in your core. You fought against the desire to move your hips, his “threat” still ringing in your ears. Your hand was still resting on the back of his head, trying and failing to keep your nails from digging into his scalp. A particularly hard suck had them biting in deep, but any apology you had died on your lips at the sinful moan he let out, followed by a string of expletives. You took a mental note to do that again later.

With a pop, he removed his mouth from your chest, and he let you pull him up into a searing kiss. His hand sneaked down between your bodies, which you only realized when you felt his fingers run beneath the waistband of your jeans and underwear.

He pulled away, sitting back on his heels, and you weren’t quite sure who was panting heavier. You immediately missed the feel of his body over yours, the comforting weight of him, and you couldn’t help the small pout that formed on your lips as you tried and failed to pull him back down again. “Please,” you whispered, hoping that your words would convince him. And you could tell they almost worked, his jaw clenching as he grit his teeth. 

But he didn’t relent. Instead, you watched as he began to slowly unclip your gunbult, your armor, your kneepads. Every bit of protection against the Wasteland stripped from you, joining the pile on the floor, leaving you only in your clothes. It was freeing, yet a bit nerve wracking, your chest continuing to rise and fall rapidly. 

You tried to lean down to help with your boots, but he swatted your hands away, silencing any rebuttal with a look. It took a few moments, but he eventually was able to remove your boots and socks, but you barely heard the sound of them hitting the floor over the loud heartbeat in your ears. He practically ripped off your pants, his patience becoming thin because of the boots, but you were just grateful he didn’t actually ripped them. Good clothing was hard to come by.

His gaze was locked onto your lower body as he eased off your underwear, the final article of clothing on your body joining the rest. You were almost glad to be rid of them; they were cold and uncomfortable, and damp, for some reason. But it didn’t seem to put off The Ghoul. In fact, it seemed to please him immensely, an almost proud grin on his lips.  

You quickly grew embarrassed under his ravenous gaze, his eyes trailing over every inch of your body. You tried to close your legs, or at least tuck them to your chest to try and cover you, but he was having none of it. Two hands, one gloved and one not, wrapped around your ankles, pulling them back down and out. “None of that. Lemme see ya.”

Swallowing, you relaxed, at least as well as you could. It became easier when you saw how much he was loving your body. His eyes jumped around, like he was trying to memorize every detail of you. “Like I said. Fuckin’. Perfect.” You weren’t expecting the sheer honesty in his voice. 

The hands on your ankles began to slowly trail up, making goosebumps appear on your skin. It was like your skin was a million times more sensitive when someone else was touching you. You got lost in his touch, your eyes fluttering close, simply enjoying the feel of another person. 

They shot open when his touch suddenly left, and you gaped at him, confused. You watched him adjust so that he was now sitting normally on the couch, resting against the back of it. 

You understood, though, when he patted his legs, wanting you on his lap. With shaky movements, you complied, but were once again confused when he stopped you, hand resting on your shoulder. Wordlessly, he turned you so that your back was to him, and you let out a startled noise when he roughly pulled you onto his lap, his still clothed chest pressing into your bare shoulders. 

Moving the hair from your neck, you felt his lips return their ministration on your neck, and your head rolled back, giving him more access. Both hands were on your body, ungloved one returning to your breasts, the other skating down the side of your body. You gasped when it began to inch towards your center, and you felt him chuckle. “So sensitive,” he commented almost absentmindedly.

You felt him grip your thigh, spreading your legs even farther so that they went around his own, now using his knees to keep your legs open. It left you completely exposed and at his mercy, but you felt comfortable, safe even. Relaxing fully against his chest, your head now rests on his shoulder, and if you strained enough you were able to look at him. It was clear by the expression on his face that he was enjoying this just as much as you were, if not more.

He reached his hands around your body, and began to pull the glove off his other hand. You stopped him with a gentle grasp of his wrist, tugging his hand to your mouth. Just like he did, you took the material between your teeth, and he was able to free his hand with a tug. “Thank you, sweetheart,” he rasped. “Think ya can do one for thing for me?”

“Anything,” you responded, and you felt two of his fingers, the middle and ring, trace your bottom lip. 

“Anythin’?” You nodded, not caring what that might imply. “Well, I’ll have to keep that in mind. But first,” those fingers tugged at your lip, “get those nice and wet for me.”

Even though you weren’t quite sure what you were doing, you parted your lips anyway, taking the digits into your wet mouth. Slowly, you began to bob your head up and down, running your tongue along the textured skin, barely tasting the saltiness of it. Whatever you were doing seemed to please him, because you felt his chest rumble with a groan. 

Before you could build a rhythm, he pulled them out with a pop, and they glistened in the low light. He didn’t give you much time to observe them, though, because before you could process he was running them through your folds. The sudden touch in your most sensitive area made you try and shut your legs, but his knees made it impossible.

His chest rumbled with a light laugh, and you were confused as to what could possibly be amusing him. “Guess that wasn’t necessary; you’re already so damn wet for me.” You detected another hint of pride, this time in his voice. 

Another swipe had you moaning, but then you felt his fingers locate something between your legs that made you cry out, your legs jerking involuntarily. “There we go,” he rumbled, and he focused his attention on that area, fingers pressing firm and slow circles into it. You weren’t quite sure what he was doing, but it felt incredible, the tension that had slowly begun to rescind returning. 

You tried to tell him, but it came out as a garbled moan instead. “Feel good?” It was another rhetorical question, and you yet again nodded, and you watched his lips quirk up. 

“Ghoul…” you moaned out, one of your hands reaching behind to hold the back of his head, needing something to hold onto as he continued to pleasure you. 

For the first time since you’d met him, something like self-consciousness flicked across his face, gone as soon as it came. “That ain’t my name, sweetheart. C’mon, lemme hear ya say it,” he almost sounded desperate as he talked. 

It took a moment for your lust-addled brain to remember what he had told you earlier in the night. “Cooper…” you sighed out, and he bit back his own moan, and you felt his hips jump the tiniest bit. 

“And I thought I liked hearing ya say my name, but fuck, I like hearin’ ya moan it a hundred times more.” You realized that when you had seen something shift in his eyes when you first said his name was disdain, it was actually the opposite. That realization had you smiling, and you managed to pull him down into a messy kiss, the angle too weird to allow a proper meeting of your lips. 

But it wouldn’t have lasted long anyways, another few moments of his fingers making you cry out again, that tension beginning to become unbearable, like it was just on the precipice of snapping. “Cooper.” It came out as a moan, but with a hint of confusion and worry behind it, unsure of what was happening with your body.

“You close?” 

“Close?” You had enough focus left to be confused, and even though his fingers didn’t yield, you felt the rest of him go still. 

“You’ve never… oh, fuck,” his voice turned husky, almost like a growl, “am I gonna make you come for the first time?” He sounded elated. It just created more questions, but another swirl of his fingers made all thoughts go out the window.

You fidgeted and squirmed, trying to escape the onslaught of things you were feeling. “Relax. I promise ya, this’ll feel good.” And because you trusted him, foolishly or not, you did relax, no longer fighting against him. It felt like you were a dam that was about to burst, and you barely registered that your nails were digging back into his scalp until you heard one of those delicious moans escape his lips.

That sound triggered something in you, and all at once that tension snapped, exploding like something that was pulled too tight. Pleasure ignited your body, making it feel as light as a feather. Every nerve in your body was humming, and you swore you blacked out for a moment. 

His voice, gruff yet a bit concerned, brought you back to your body. “Breathe,” you heard him say, and you realized the dizziness you were feeling wasn’t just because of the mind-shattering pleasure you’d just felt, but you indeed had stopped breathing. Inhaling shakily, you felt some of that dizziness leaving now that oxygen had returned to your lungs. 

An uncomfortable jolt had you glancing down between your legs, where he continued to pull every last bit of pleasure from your body. “S’too much,” you managed to slur out, your voice quite hoarse. He halted, thankfully, resting his hand on your thigh, still close enough to your center that you could feel the heat from his hands. 

“You alright, sweetheart?” He sounded mildly amused, and if your muscles weren’t currently jelly you would’ve hit him. 

“I… what did…” you said between gasping breaths, trying to get your heart rate back down. 

“You just came. Rather loudly, at that,” he teased, and your incredibly hoarse voice made sense now. You were suddenly very glad that you were in the middle of nowhere. 

Turning so that you were able to face him better, you felt the material of his pants rub against your bare legs, which wouldn’t have been too weird if it weren’t for the fact they were wet, borderline soaked. The hand that had just been resting on your thigh was brought into view, just as soaked as his pants, and you watched as he examined his hand, almost transfixed. “And messily,” he added, and you felt your cheeks burn even more than they already were. 

You opened your mouth, ready to apologize, but nothing but an airy noise left you as you watched his tongue run from up from his wrist to his fingers. A pleased hum left him, his eyes never once leaving your own as he continued to clean his hand, like it was the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted, even better than the desert you had shared. There was a stir in your gut at the action, what you now assumed to be arousal coming to life as you continued to watch him. 

When he caught you staring, his lips twisted into one of those smirks that made your stomach flip. Turning fully in his lap so you were now straddling him, you tugged his wrist far enough away so that you could kiss him. You groaned when his tongue swept between your parted lips, his slightly damp hand holding the side of your face gently. 

With shaky fingers, you began to try and unbutton his shirt. You didn’t get far before he was suddenly standing, and even though he had an arm tucked beneath your thighs, you still clung on to him, legs and arms wrapping around him tightly. Not once did he remove his lips, even when he bumped into a few things on the way to the bed. It was like all that mattered was you and the way you felt. 

The bed, which was barely big enough for one person, let alone two, squeaked obnoxiously when he lowered you onto it, but neither of you paid attention to it. And it wasn’t like you had to worry about anyone else hearing. Like on the couch, he hovered over your body, arms braced on either side of you. His lips were back on your neck, giving you a few moments to take heaving breaths of air. 

For once during the entire night, you knew what was about to happen next, but even though you could feel anxiety threaten to grip your mind, you managed to shove it off. It was easier when you focused your attention on the man in your arms. His continued attention was nice, but you wanted, needed more. “Cooper, please…” you trailed off, hoping he got what you were asking for.

And you know he did, because you felt his lips curl into a smile against the skin of your neck, and he lifted his head up. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him so care-free, and the sight had your heart swelling, a small gasp leaving you as well. He looked good like this, and a part of you craved to see it for days to come. 

“What was that, sweetheart? I didn’t quite hear what ya said.” For a moment, you retracted your previous stance, embarrassment making your ears burn. You either wanted to kiss or slap that shit-eating smirk off his face when he noticed how bashful you’d grown. “I’ll give ya whatever you want. All ya gotta do is ask.”

Your pride and embarrassment were at war with your desire, but a winner was quickly decided. “Please, I need you, Cooper.”

Apparently that wasn’t good enough, because he didn’t move. “You need me to…?” You groaned in frustration, and you tried to get him to just forget it with a roll of your hips, trying to make him break. It seemed to almost work, but you felt him press down firmly on your hips, pinning you to the bed. “That ain’t gonna help ya. Use your words.”

You sighed, finally relenting. “Fuck me, please,” you whispered out, and it finally seemed to do the trick.

“Atta girl,” he praised. “Go ‘head and roll over for me.”

As much as you wanted to be able to see him clearly, excitement had you turning over anyway, now on your hands and knees. The position was revealing and it almost felt degrading, but yet again you felt at ease, anticipation making your heart beat fast. Turning your head, you were able to see him a bit, and a moan slipped from your lips when you heard the sound of his belt being undone, the sound of a zipper following suit. This was really happening. 

One of his hands gripped your hips, and you felt his still clothed legs pressed up against the back of your own. His cock, warm and solid, pressed into your entrance, a low groan pulled from your lips when he breached it. It was only the tiniest bit painful, not as bad as you initially believed it would be, like a muscle being stretched, which was earlier overshadowed by the pleasure it brought. He let out a groan of his own, the fingers on your hips digging in harshly. 

Inch by inch, you felt him press himself fully into you, both of you letting out similar sighs when he was fully sheathed. Cold metal bit into your skin when his hips were flush with yours, the buckle of his belt no doubt going to leave imprints on your skin. He stilled once he was fully in you, giving you a chance to get adjusted to him, which you were grateful for. You could tell that it was taking every ounce of restraint in his body to just sit there, though, and it only took a few moments until you felt like you were ready for him to move. 

All it took was you wiggling your hips for him to get the message, something like a sigh of relief leaving his lips. Slowly, he pulled out of you, fingers never once letting go of their grip. The sensation made you moan, and you could feel him everywhere, hitting all the right spots as he pulled out.

You grasped at the barely-together bedsheets, probably creating new holes in the fabric. It was less uncomfortable when he pushed back a second time, and you felt your head go limp between your arms, his name falling from your lips. He started creating a rhythm, hips beginning to pick up the pace. His hips snapped into yours, slowly at first, but gradually picking up speed.

You could do nothing but take it, pleasure making you lose control of your body. Your cries were becoming increasingly louder, that familiar tension returning, and you tried to bury your face in the mattress. 

That was until you felt him grab a fistfull of your hair, yanking your head back up. It hurt, but it felt wonderful, and you felt yourself tense, a wanton moan louder than anything previous escaping you. “Fuck, ya like it rough?” His pace quickened, his cock spearing you relentlessly. It filled something in you that you didn’t quite know you needed, a craving satiated that you didn’t know you had. But now that you had it, you needed more of it. 

You nodded, at least as best you could, the grip in your hair keeping your head still. It took you too long to realize that he was using the leverage from his grip in your hair to pound into you. “D’ya know how fuckin’ incredible ya feel?” He panted. “This cunt was made for me. For me to ruin.” 

“Cooper,” you cried out, and he groaned in appreciation. 

“Fuck, that’s right. Who’s fuckin’ ya this good? Who’s ruinin’ ya for any other?”

You certainly weren’t expecting him to be this vocal, but you were far from complaining. His voice, which normally electrified you, was driving you insane, the tension building up tenfold. You tried to say his name again, but it came out incoherent. “Oh, sweetheart,” he cooed before laughing lightly. 

You were so close to your release again, and you could feel moisture run down your thighs, but you had little mind to be embarrassed now. “Cooper,” you were able to sigh out. “I’m… I’m close.”

His grip turned vice like, and you’re sure your neck would be hurting later because of the angle, but you didn’t care. “Let go. C’mon, lemme feel ya cum on my cock.” His words left no room for debate, so who were you to go against his orders? After a few more thrusts, you felt that tension snap again, pleasure once again washing over your body, making your arms turn to jelly. Panting, you collapsed on your arms, face squished against the mattress, the sound of slick skin on skin the only thing you could make out.

You didn’t stay down for long. Both hands wrapped around your front, pulling you flush against his body. He continued to thrust into you, and you felt another release begin to build, but it was too much. You made a sound of protest, something like you couldn’t come again, but he shushed you with kisses on your cheeks, which were damp with tears and sweat. “Just one more, sweetheart. You can do it.”

Nodding shakily, you felt his continue to fuck you, one arm wrapping around your stomach, the other holding right above your breasts. A startled noise left you when you felt his hand wrap around your throat, survival instinct kicking in immediately. With wide eyes, you twisted out of his grasp on your throat, panic evident on your face. 

He had let go as soon as he heard any sound of protest, but he still lingered close by. “You trust me?” He asked, somehow still able to form a coherent sentence. 

Your answer came immediately; you trusted him with your life. Why else would you travel the Wasteland with him? You nodded, a soft yes leaving you as you did. He pressed another grateful kiss to your cheek, a wordless thank you, and you felt his hand return to where it was. You still tensed when you felt his grip return, unable to turn off the instinct to be free of someone choking you, but you provided no further protest. 

Fingers squeezed against the sides of your neck, and like with your hair he used the leverage to snap his hips up into you. Even though it was harder, you were still able to breathe, your gasps and noises labored. Yet you still found yourself growing dizzy, the restricted blood flow making you so, which just heightened the pleasure you felt. 

Your third and final release of the night barreled into you, completely catching you both off guard. Your mind was so fuzzy; you couldn’t even get his name out. You were quickly snapped out of that haze when you heard him moan your name. Not sweetheart, not Vaultie, not any other nickname. Your name. 

He eased you to the bed, hand leaving your neck, and you let out a small whine when you felt him pull out of you. You felt empty, lacking, and even though you knew it would upset your overstimulated body you wanted him back in you. 

You had just rolled onto your back when you felt something hot splatter against your skin. You watched slack-jawed as he stroked himself to completion, his release painting your skin. The sight caused the flames of arousal to reignite, but you tried your best to snuff them out; you needed a moment. 

He sagged forward when he was done, arms once again bracing him from completely falling on top of you. Silence now filled the air, which was significantly warmer than it was a bit ago. It was you who moved first, grasping the side of his scarred face and pulling him in for a gentle kiss. It was short, but probably the most passionate of the night. 

When it broke, he sat up, getting up and off the bed and towards his belongings. You let out a noise of protest, and he just shot you a teasing look. “I’ll be back in a sec. We gotta get ya cleaned up,” he gestured to the remnants of him on your skin, and you watched as he fished out a canteen, before searching the area for something else. 

You decided to glance over your body as you waited for him to return. Your skin glistened with sweat, and you could see various marks littering your body; you didn’t want to know what your neck looked like, where he focused a lot of his attention.

The feeling of the bed shifting snapped you out of your examination, and you regarded the man who sat beside you with a soft look, and you were surprised when he returned it. It quickly turned into a scowl when you felt a damp cloth brush against your stomach and breasts, the cool water making you hiss. 

When he was done cleaning your skin, he handed you the canteen, and you took a few sips. You’d long since gotten used to the acrid taste of the Wasteland’s water, so it didn’t bother you, and you watched him finally kick off his boot. He was still fully dressed besides that, shirt sticking to his body.He set it beside the bed once you finished, before eying the bed that you were currently laying on.

“What?” You cringed at how raspy your voice sounded.

“Just dunno how I’m gonna fit.” In the back of your mind, you worried that he was going to push you away after all was said and done, so you were quite relieved to find the opposite happening. 

With a grin, you scooted back until your head rested against the thin pillow, before opening your arms to him. Shock crossed his features for a split second, before a grin of his own grew on his lips. He was still hesitant when he entered your embrace, but he relaxed almost immediately, especially when your hands ran soothingly up and down his back. When you pressed a kiss to the top of his head, he practically shuddered, his face nuzzling into your skin. You wondered how long it had been since someone showed him affection like this. 

You held him for a good while, your body calming down, and you thought over the events that had just transpired. Weirdly enough, you thought less about the things he had done and more of the words he said, especially right at the beginning. “Cooper?” You called out hesitantly, almost immediately regretting it. “Do… Can I call you that?”

He had raised his head when he heard his name being called, and you watched him debate it for a second. “Only in private. I’ve gotta reputation to uphold.” His response was gruff, but there was something warm in his eyes. 

It made you giddy, that he trusted you enough to call him by his true name, and you hoped you weren’t smiling like a fool. “Alright, Cooper. What did you mean when you said ‘finally’?”

He chuckled lightly, propping up a big so he could respond properly. “What, ya thought this was a spur of the moment decision?” He shook his head. “Sweetheart, I’ve wanted this for a while.”

You gaped at him, stunned. “You… you have?”

“How could I not? I mean, look at’cha,” his eyes trailed appreciatively over your still naked body. “But you’ve got a fire ‘bout ya. You ain’t afraid of this world, even though you damn well should be. You ain’t afraid of me, even though I’ve given ya plenty of reason to be. You’re a fighter, and I… I admire that ‘bout you. I-” He caught himself, like he said something he wasn't supposed to. “I’m too sober to be discussin’ my thoughts with ya. All ya gotta know is yes, I have.”

You were once again left stunned, so you let your action speak for you, pressing another kiss to his head, trying to ignore the way your heart soared. You felt him shift upwards, and he kissed your proper. It was another short yet passionate kiss, and when he broke away he rested his head against yours. 

“You wanna know somethin’, sweetheart?” His voice had dropped lower, and that familiar dark look was back in his eyes. So much for snuffing out the arousal you felt. He smirked when you nodded vehemently. “You wanna know the real reason why I always take first watch when we go to bed?” You felt his grasp one of your hands, loosely enough that you could pull it away if you wanted to, and he brought it between your bodies. You gasped when you felt the hard tent in his pants, having tucked himself away when he got up, but you knew it wasn’t going to stay like that for long. 

“It’s ‘cause you do this to me. You should hear me out there, moanin’ your name like I do, imaginin’ your hand wrapped ‘round my cock instead of mine.”

Your tiredness was completely forgotten, the pleasant ache in your muscles nothing more than a gentle distraction. “Can you show me?”

“Fuckin’ gladly, sweeheart.”

[msbigredmachine]

Butterscotch & Chocolate (Roman Reigns/OC/The Rock)

What’s better than a hunky, rich and powerful Samoan boyfriend? Why, two, of course! 😉🤤

Pairing: Roman Reigns/Black fem reader/The Rock

Warnings: Smut, Threesome

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: I planned to post this as far back as April at the peak of the Final Boss arc. Sorry I'm late 😭. Based on the Jimmy Fallon interview before Wrestlemania 40.

Enjoy!

-----------------

It’s always amazing to witness your man’s ease in swapping personas for entertainment purposes. From the feral, bloodthirsty beast that rules the wrestling ring to the dapper, charming gentleman currently chatting it up with Jimmy Fallon on his late night talk show in Manhattan. Seeing up close how one of a kind Roman Reigns is, is something you never get tired of experiencing, whether it’s in the ring, in front of the media, or behind closed doors, specifically between the sheets…his favorite place to be with you. Now here you are, in a swanky dressing room in New York on a Wednesday night when you’d normally be at home, probably working. This is a welcome, more glamorous change of environment all thanks to your boyfriend.

He’s also made dinner plans for after the show, which is why you’re all dressed up in a daring little slip dress and a pair of open-toed stilettos, with your toenails painted white, his favorite color on your feet. The dress has a thigh-high slit, which is perfect because you want him to have full access to the goodies tonight. You wonder what he has planned afterwards. Are you fucking tonight? You’d better be. He’s been away from you for weeks, and FaceTime sex, as good as it is, is not sufficient for your horny little self. 

The door to the dressing room swings open and Roman walks in, a cute smile curving those lips you love to kiss. "All done! You ready, baby girl?" he asks.

The term of endearment coming from such a deep, whiskey-smooth tone like his always makes you shiver. You nod eagerly and get to your feet, smoothing out the sleek satin fabric of your dress. He makes his way to you, drinking in your appearance with smoldering eyes and a low whistle that warms your bronzed cheeks.

"I can’t get over how beautiful you look. Give Daddy a twirl, baby." He lifts your hand in the air, pleased as you oblige him, then tugs you close to meet his lips. You sigh softly as his free hand immediately finds your round derriere, giving it a generous squeeze. You love how you never seem to get enough of each other, always need to touch each other. 

And you’re not the only one who notices.

“Jesus Christ, get a room.”

Roman laughs softly against your mouth before turning his head with a happy grin. Your heart lurches inside your chest at the sound of the other deep voice, your cheeks growing warmer as your boyfriend's new partner in crime locks eyes with you from across the dressing room. You inwardly hope Roman cannot feel the shiver that caresses your skin.

Dwayne Johnson has more or less become part of your life since his Final Boss angle for Wrestlemania was signed off at the start of the year. The first time he showed up at Roman’s doorstep, you freaked out. It was The Rock, after all. You had a huge crush on him when you were younger and initially, you found his size and status intimidating. But he’s turned out to be a sweetheart, always checking up on you, providing support whenever you need it. He seems to genuinely care about you, and Roman thinks the world of him, too. But as your friendship deepens, so have your feelings. Though you’ve done a good job of keeping them at bay, it’s become more difficult each time he stares at you like he wants to fuck you where you stand, which is all the time now.

And secretly, you like it.

"We should get going guys, I'm getting pretty hungry…" Dwayne drawls. You don’t miss the heat in his eyes as they rake down your frame. You can’t help but stare back either; he looks incredible. The definition in his arms, chest and legs is on display through the silver satin of his garb. He and Roman are such babes; gorgeous, sophisticated older men that appeal highly to your tastes.

Your next destination is shrouded in mystery. You have no idea where you are going and Roman gives nothing away. Seated between the two huge men in the back of a sleek G63, you snuggle close to your boyfriend, sharing soft, sweet kisses with him and enjoying the comforting circles of his fingers on your hip. Dwayne seems to take the PDA in stride, accustomed to it. But feeling him so close makes you wish he can touch and caress you too. 

As Roman answers a phone call, you check on the other man, not wanting him to feel excluded. “You good, big guy? You’re quiet,” you say to Dwayne, resting your hand on his knee. You feel him tense at your touch, his eyes shutting for a brief moment.

“I’m fine, sweetheart. Don’t worry ‘bout lil ole me,” he simply answers, his hand brushing over the top of yours in a gesture intimate enough to send shivers of desire down your spine. If Roman notices the exchange, he doesn’t show it. 

The car eventually arrives at a harbor. The illuminated boardwalk welcomes you to a sizable boat and all its luxury. Roman’s much larger hand engulfs yours as he leads you onto the yacht, with Dwayne right behind you, most likely staring at your ass. A maitre'd guides you to an exquisite table set laden with the finest plates and cutlery that glint from the lanterns on the red tabletop. Soft music plays quietly in the background. The atmosphere reeks of opulence and romance. Your man knows how much you love the fancy, finer things, but this feels above and beyond, like a team effort pulled off specifically by the two men you're in the presence of.

Having an entire boat to oneself has its perks, particularly with the stellar service as well as not having to wait long for the food. Sat again between your boyfriend and your crush in the plush, booth-like seats, conversation flows easily among all three of you as you dine together. However, you observe that Dwayne sits much closer to you, on purpose too it seems, without the tight confines of a vehicle as a ready excuse. Roman is on your left, also pressed to your side. It’s not uncomfortable at all. You're in the middle of a very appetizing sandwich and you wonder, just for a second, if either man, or maybe both, would like a bite.

After your plates are taken away, Roman puts his arm around you, and you swoon when he links your fingers together and kisses the back of your hand. “You look so beautiful tonight, baby girl,” he gushes with a smile.

“Thank you, Daddy,” you respond. He’s been affectionate all evening, even more so than usual. He’s showered you with compliments, along with a bouquet of white roses and beautiful luxury jewelry, and you feel love-bombed in the best way. You wonder if there’s anything else in store tonight. Sex, you hope.

“I agree. Very beautiful,” Dwayne chimes in, surprising you. 

"I—" you stammer, looking at him, taken slightly aback by the intensity in his eyes. “Thank you.” 

Roman's hand moving down to squeeze your hip refocuses your attention on him. “So, babe…I know it’s been a long couple of months, and I’ve seen how hard you work at your job, yet you always manage to make time for me. Time for us. So I wanted to show you my appreciation by giving you something…extra special tonight." 

It's then that you feel it; a tension that was present before but has somehow heightened, a nagging feeling that you’re out of the loop on something, but it’s difficult to pinpoint exactly what it is.

“Okay…” You glance back and forth between the two men, your eyes fixated on their Adam's Apples, fighting the urge to moan out loud at the sight of their strong throats working. You almost miss it, but Roman catches Dwayne’s eye, exchanging a knowing look. Something is definitely going on.

Then, in a move that totally stuns you, Dwayne reaches out to touch your cheek, running his thumb along your skin. Your body washes with heat at his unexpected caress, but common sense tries to prevail as your head snaps over to Roman, anticipating some kind of outburst at his cousin’s forwardness. But nothing comes. If anything, he looks…calm. Like he saw this coming.

"I know you want Dwayne, baby. I’ve known for a while,” Roman says softly, and your heart drops. Have you been that obvious? Did you do something or say something that gave you away? As you frantically wrack your brain for an answer, his next words catch you completely off guard, even more so when he smiles. “And it turns out, he wants you too.”

"W-what?" What is going on?! 

"It’s okay, my love," Roman shushes you gently, brushing his thumb back and forth across your lips. “I don't mind at all. It just shows that my cousin got good taste. And speaking of taste…”

“Roman and I talked, and we decided we want to give you exactly what you want,” Dwayne interjects. He’s smiling, making him even more attractive if that’s even possible. He puts his hand over your own, his light brown eyes piercing your soul. “We want to please you, sweetheart. Together. And not just tonight, but every other night.”

“We wanna take care of you, baby,” Roman continues. “We’re yours now, and you’re ours. You call on me, or him, or both of us, for anything you need, and we’ll be there.”

You’re at a loss for words. This has to be one of your wet dreams gone haywire. Now acutely aware that you’re firmly trapped between them, you gulp audibly, feeling nowhere near as brave as you usually do when you find yourself in this position in your fantasies. Flustered, you grab your glass of wine and knock it back in one go, almost coughing as the strong alcohol burns your throat in protest. “Are…are you sure?” 

“Positive. But only if you’re sure that this is what you want, too,” Roman assures you.

Dwayne nods in agreement, and you break into a slight sweat despite the outdoor sea breeze, blowing out a breath as you fan yourself. These last few minutes have honestly left you shook. But the fact that they’ve essentially confessed that they both want you is a huge turn-on. They’re the most beautiful men that you’ve ever laid eyes on, and you feel honored that they feel so strongly about you. 

Emboldened by this, along with the influx of alcohol in your system, you straighten in your seat and turn to the Great One with your most seductive expression. “Anything, huh? Well then, I just got one question, Mr Final Boss.” You trace your index finger from his torso along his broad chest, and stop at his bottom lip. “What dat mouth do?”

Dwayne smirks, purses his lips against your finger. “How ‘bout you come closer and find out?” he retorts.

Your eyes widen, your courage wavering. “Right here? Now? But what about…” You wave your hand around, reminding them that you’re not exactly alone on this boat.

“There’s a reason you ain’t seen nobody in a minute,” says Dwayne as Roman grins slyly, “They show up when we tell them to.” 

Power.

You glance over at your boyfriend again, seeking, needing his consent. As tantalizing as all this is, you can’t do this without him. He merely stares back at you, his eyes cloudy with that familiar look of lust you’ve seen so many times. “Go ahead,” he encourages. He seems mesmerized by what’s unfolding before him. 

Dwayne tilts your chin up, studying every little detail and emotion on your face, seeing right through the bravado. "I bet you taste incredible..." His hands span the length of your sides, holding you in place as he kisses your lips. His are surprisingly soft, moving gently against yours, taking his sweet time to enjoy your sweet taste. You press your body closer to his and run your hands up his smooth, shaven face, moaning into his mouth when his tongue whips skillfully against yours.

Behind you, Roman’s large hands are on your shoulders, massaging away the tension he knows is there. He knows your body so well. It helps you relax more and savor the firm pressure of Dwayne’s mouth. His kiss is different from Roman’s yet just as intoxicating. You gasp when his hands slides down your body, caressing your chest with care and attention. A sigh escapes you as Roman’s lips meet your shoulder. Right away your head lolls to the side, encouraging him to explore like he likes to. In the meantime, Dwayne has navigated underneath your dress and is parting your inner thighs, stroking the soft skin dangerously close to your apex. Warmth spreads throughout your body, ignited by their kisses, their touches, the knowledge that two beautiful, powerful men want you as much as they do. It’s an overwhelming feeling, scary even, yet it's all you want to feel from here on out. 

A startled moan bursts from you when Roman bites down on your skin. It’s a familiar, pleasurable pain, one that makes you squeeze your thighs together. But Dwayne is not having it, nudging them back apart with his big hand. Both men are in complete control and obviously aim to make you lose yours. As Roman makes out with your throat, Dwayne fingers the straps of your low cut dress, easing the material down your arms, exposing your ample bosom inch by inch. Instinctively, your hands rise to cover yourself, but he catches your wrists before you can and holds them down.

"Don't hide, baby, let him see how pretty you are," Roman rasps in your ear, nuzzling his beard against your cheek. You shift restlessly, the throbbing between your legs intensifying with every passing second. You’ve daydreamed about a moment like this more times than you can count, and now it’s actually happening, with more to come. 

What is life?

"Good girl," Roman smiles, watching Dwayne kiss on the swells of your heavy breasts spilling over your red lace bra. He drags your dress down further, resting it beneath your breasts. As you thank your lucky stars for opting to wear your prettiest bra tonight, Dwayne pinches your nipples through the lace, making you gasp out, your head tilting back with pleasure. He groans his approval as he pulls the bra cups down and kneads your naked breasts with firm, eager hands, the skin on skin contact sending shockwaves to your core. "Damn, girl. Look at them perfect titties," he praises.

"They nice, huh Uce," Roman purrs, his breath fanning your cheek, his hungry eyes affixed on your exposed chest with a growl that sends a flood of heat through your loins. Your back arches against your man's strong chest. You’re unbelievably wet, the lace of your panties already soaked through and clinging to your pussy lips. Roman takes over toying with your nipples while Dwayne descends, moving your dress up to your stomach as he comes face to face with your lace-covered treasure. 

"What do you want, sweetheart? Tell me," Dwayne kisses your belly, looking up at you from where he’s now crouched down on the floor. The view before you leaves you on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

Dwayne fucking Johnson. On his knees. Asking you what you want. Good lord.

"I…I want you to eat my pussy," you manage to gasp.

The two men laugh, Roman’s deep chuckle vibrating through your half-naked body. "I think he can do that," he whispers, sucking your earlobe into his warm, wet mouth that has you panting out an expletive or two. Dwayne tugs at the waistband of your panties, prompting you to lift your hips so he can pull them off, rendering you open and exposed. You’re practically on Roman’s lap now, and you hear him moan as your ass wiggles directly on his crotch. Desperate for some kind of anchor, you reach up to grab his head, running your fingers through the silky locks of his hair, watching through heavy eyelids as Dwayne rubs two fingers along your slit. Roman refocuses on massaging your chest with those big hands of his. "So perfect," he mumbles into your hair, “The things I wanna do to you right now…”

Beneath you, Dwayne dips down to drag his tongue along your folds, tasting you for the first time. "Oh yeah, wayyy better than I imagined," he murmurs against your sensitive flesh, the small movements of his mouth making your pussy clench tight in anticipation. Not to be outdone, Roman gathers your breasts in his palms and grinds his hips against your ass. His thick, hardened length rubbing against your backside feels amazing. With a moan, you lift your head up for a kiss. He plunges his tongue in your mouth, dancing sloppily and noisily with yours, demanding the same energy you're receiving.

As you're caught up in Roman’s oral skills, the People’s champion decides to demonstrate his. He pushes his tongue deep inside of you, somehow managing to synchronize with Roman’s, filling both ends of your body. You find yourself also gripping the back of Dwayne’s head as he flicks his tongue against your folds rapidly, reminiscent of the way he utters his famous 'If You Smell...' catchphrase. The sensation has you crying out his name and your eyes rolling back. Then, he proceeds to trap your clit between his lips and suck heartily, then lap the protruding little nub and work it in circles.

"Oh my god," your voice cracks in a sob as he pushes your legs further back, spreading you wider, allowing him better access. The man is deep-diving in your pussy, feasting, as though the stuffed lobster he consumed just minutes ago was not satisfying enough. Your body is electric, your pussy spasming every few seconds as ecstasy beckons. His tongue is magical, and combined with the expert attention that Roman is providing, it’s almost too much to bear, so much so that you’re forced to tear your lips away from Roman's, moaning and panting heavily, your wide, hazy eyes staring up at him with a look of shock and almost helplessness from the barrage of pleasure.

The lust in the Tribal Chief's eyes as he stares right back reflects yours, and he keeps twisting your nipples, making you twitch and squirm in his arms. "You gon' come for us like a good girl," His voice is low and rough with desire, emphasizing his command with a particularly sharp pinch to your swollen, sensitive nipple that makes you squeal. "Come in his mouth, babe, make him taste every drop of that sweet ass pussy…"

On cue, Dwayne suddenly begins sucking you hard. Firm. His mouth wet and hungry, determined that you give them exactly what they want. He slips two long, thick fingers inside your dripping core, curling and twisting them, pumping them roughly inside you, and you’re gone. It knocks you silly, your nut, and your eyes squeeze shut as you scream, pussy clamping down on Dwayne's fingers, hips jerking on his face, Roman having to anchor you down as the pleasure ravages you. Dwayne never takes his eyes off the euphoria washing over your beautiful face, lapping up everything that pours from your weeping pussy. Roman lowers his hand between your thighs, swiping at your mess and bringing it to his mouth, groaning pleasurably at your taste he’s since known he can never get enough of. 

"Mmm. Good girl," he murmurs against your throat, hugging your waist as you float down from your incredible high. His kiss on your cheek is soothing, loving. Proud. “You did so good for us, my love.”

It takes you a good thirty seconds to open your eyes, and you’re met with the most amazingly erotic sight. Dwayne’s handsome face smeared with your essence, his tongue gathering the remnants of your orgasm into his mouth. "I think that’s all the dessert I need tonight. I can eat your pussy forever, baby," he smirks up at you.

You feel yourself blushing profusely, retreating to your shy ways. "That was…unbelievable," you breathe, amazed that you can even speak.

"That's what we like to hear," Dwayne smiles, standing up and sitting back next to you. He draws your dress back down and makes a show of tucking your discarded panties into his back pocket. “That’s mine now,” he announces with a haughty wink and a shit-eating grin, and you’re certain you’re wet all over again. He tugs your bra and the rest of your dress back into place, patting your breasts fondly before kissing you softly. You can taste yourself all over his mouth and it’s the hottest thing ever.

"Um, would you like me to return the favor, Daddy? I can," you ask, already rubbing on both their thighs, your voice small and hopeful.

Chuckling at your newfound neediness, Roman swoops down to steal a kiss, "No, baby. At least not yet. This was all about you."

Damn. It feels unfair to not reciprocate such a tremendous gift, so you insist. You’ll be damned if this ends here. "Fine, maybe not here. But when we’re back on dry land, I’m fucking the shit outta you," you tell Roman, grabbing his chin and sealing your promise with a sensual, breathless kiss to his lips. You do the exact same thing to Dwayne, determination shining through the lust in your eyes, “Both of you.”

THE END

-------------------

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[wheneclipsefalls]

Grovel Part 3

Pairing: Aged up Lo'ak x Fem Omatikaya Reader

Grovel Masterlist

Warnings: aged up characters, past cheating, angst, mentions of blood, trauma, nightmares, description of injuries and death, war flashbacks, fear, swearing, drinking, etc.

Summary: Lo'ak is everywhere all at once.

A/N: Sooo...a little unsure about how the writing quality of this turned out but I hope you enjoy anyways. oh also I really don't know how or why I made this chapter so long haha

“And that speech…” Talu paused to give a wistful sigh. Words were not necessary to convey how romantic she thought Lo’ak’s courting proposal was. “Sister I can only hope for the same from Neteyam soon.” The sparkling grin she threw your way proved to be anything but envious, cheeks tinting into a happy shade. 

Your own returned smile was mediocre at best, fingers still running over the mysterious pieces of your new top. No, of your new courting gift. That would never stop feeling strange, especially knowing it had come from a man that you had written off as a memory so long ago. If Talu sensed your apprehension, she didn’t show it. Nothing could stop her giddy babbling as she went about straightening your shared kelku. 

“I admit, I would not have guessed Lo’ak to be the first of the two to profess such feelings but then again this is my sister we are talking about.” Her eyes shined with pure admiration and love. “He would be a true skxawng to not tuck away his childish hesitations in favor of chasing such a gem.” 

“Talu-” You go to reprimand her dramatics but it falls on deaf ears. 

“And just think, with any luck our matings could coincide and then before you know it our children will be learning to hunt together. We could even create a connected kelku. I’ve seen a few families do it before!”

“Is that not a little much?”

Talu squealed, feet kicking like a small child. It was hard to cut off such ramblings when she was in this state. So truly disconnected from the judgments of others, letting her joy flow from her without reserve. 

“It is like becoming sisters all over again. Double sisters even. Or…” She paused thoughtfully. “However you say it.” 

“I don’t think there is such a term.” You muttered, tucking away the healing ointments into a basket. That sparkling top still lay across the floor of the marui. It had no place in your home, or at least you didn’t know where it would be. Even heaped across the floor it felt far too grand in this humble abode. 

“How have you not tried it on?” Talu gasped, kneeling down to carefully collect the garment as if handling a rare gem. “Go on! It will look dazzling on you, I know it!” 

You reared back, fingers twirling nervously away from where she offered it to you. 

“I don’t know if I will.” 

“Why not?” Talu’s head tilted to the side, tail dashing back and forth in anticipation. “Don’t worry about breaking it. I can help you get it on carefully.” 

A small smile curved at her kind invitation but you no longer knew how else to respond to her new enthusiasm. You had no interest in explaining and consequently reliving the events of you and Lo’ak’s history but neither did you want her fantasy of your twinned mating to blow out of proportion. 

“What I mean is I don’t know if I will wear it at all. Lo’ak’s courting…well…I don’t think I will accept.” 

Her ears dropped immediately, eyes widening as her tail came to a halt. Talu didn’t wait for an explanation. 

“I do not understand. Was his presentation not…sufficient?” 

You were shaking her head before she even finished. Scrambling back down to your knees to meet her at eye level. 

“No, of course it was but…I am not sure whether or not I would like to accept his courting in general. Lo’ak can be very…” You paused, searching for the right words that would get her desperate attention off of you while properly masking the past. “Annoying,” you finished lamely.

“Annoying?!” A laugh of disbelief coated the word. Her tail swooped up slightly and a spark of hope surfaced again. “By Eywa, what are you talking about?”

You knew it was the wrong choice of words the second they left your mouth. Hoping to conceal your heated blush you hastened back into straightening the room. 

“What do you mean by that?” She rephrased.

“Well Lo’ak has always been a little headstrong and…loud…and….oh he always called me names and pulled at my tail-”

It was difficult to continue now with Talu’s rampant giggling filling the room.

“All of those reasons are from when you were children. Of course he was not great for the nerves, no boy was at that time, but it has been years.” Amusement danced in her eyes, that level of disappointment already washed away. It’s not as if you could blame her truthfully. Your reasoning was lacking at best. 

“Give the male a chance to show he has changed. If his appearance is anything to go off of then we know at least one thing has changed-”

“Talu!” You hissed, chucking a woven blanket at her. Your sister’s laughter did not subside as it made contact and she dramatically rolled to the floor. Despite her suggestive joke you couldn’t help but find her joy contagious and before you knew it both of you were bursting at the seams until your stomachs ached. 

“Lo’ak has his work cut out for him. It will take more than pretty words and a few tattoos to win my sister.” She finally spoke once you were starting to catch your breath. There was no mistaking the pride in her tone. “As it should be.” She reassured you, placing a hand atop her head before exiting the kelku. 

Neteyam’s proposal came mere days later. You wondered if part of the rush was due to being upstaged by his brother but that theory was set to the side when you witnessed Lo’ak’s helping hand in the festivities. He had been the one to set off the glowing plants at the end of Neteyam’s speech, painting eclipse in a vibrant glow that washed over the smiling couple. And when Talu had given her joyful, yet contained, acceptance, Lo’ak had smiled at you from the bushes. 

Gifts came pouring in left and right, your front doorstep littered with fresh kills, baskets, berries, and woven ornaments every other day. Each gift was specifically marked from each brother, obvious that neither wanted the credit for their work to be placed on their sibling. It was almost humorous were it not for the guilt you felt in disposing of your gifts hastily. 

Talu had given you a fair share of glares when you had passed off the neat meals to some neighboring families or tied small trinkets into some of the little girl’s hair in the village. No one knew that they were from the youngest Sully son but Talu’s disapproval was enough to make you hesitate at times. And yet, that first beautiful garment remained draped over your table at home without being touched for days. 

Despite her common persuading, Talu often brushed off your resistance as your way of playing hard to get. The looks she would exchange with Neteyam when Lo’ak was brought up had your intuition sparking. You wouldn’t put it past your older sister to conspire with the eldest Sully son in the ways of helping Lo’ak woo you. 

Those suspicions were borderline confirmed as the gifts switched to very specific items and fruits that caught your fancy. One morning in particular you had woken up to your mouth watering at the smell of peanut butter coming from the entrance. Such a rare delicacy that the Sully’s had introduced you to so many years ago, your senses had become quickly attuned to its pull. 

So you ate it.

Tucked away in the corner of the marui where you could shovel it into your mouth without judgment, but you had eaten it all the same. And as the last glob of strange texture stuck to your tongue it was becoming harder and harder to feel guilty for indulging in the pleasure. 

So you stopped.

From then on out when the gifts came you sorted them into trinkets that would be shoved away and repurposed to treats you would allow yourself to enjoy. Lo’ak dropped off meals so often that it became almost unnecessary to join communal dinner. Although you would never admit it, you couldn’t resist the slowly cooked meat or even the fish that he had seasoned and prepared in such a unique way you could only associate it with him. All the same, you let yourself have it.

After all, if he wanted to waste his time hunting and foraging for your delight every day that was his prerogative. And what you did with those free offerings was yours. 

A bitter part of you couldn’t help but feel satisfied by the constant effort he was putting in. Perhaps this is what he truly deserved after breaking your heart. He could race across the forest every day trying to win your affections without result and maybe that would finally teach him to handle people’s hearts more carefully. 

In any case, this obsession would subside sooner or later and he would be chasing after another girl. Until then, it seemed logical to enjoy the splendors while you could. 

However it became increasingly more difficult to avoid his presence as the gifts poured in, especially in the company of others. Some days it felt as if Lo’ak was everywhere all at once. Helping a clan member move into their marui, joining the afternoon hunting party, taking notes at his father’s meetings. The list went on and on. It was more than you expected for the youngest son of the Olo’eyktan to have. 

And Lo’ak never missed a day. You never woke to an empty threshold and he never stopped averting his attention your way no matter the situation. Even if some days all he could afford was a loving gaze, one that made your stomach turn itself inside out. 

Your fingertips had grown wrinkly under the river’s current as you continued to scrubs at the cloth viciously. So many to get through cleaning for the healer’s tent before you could sufficiently rest from today’s labors. Still…you remembered a time where it was worse. So much worse. 

It was never too late to count your blessings. 

“The orange would look good!”

Your ears perked, recognizing the voice although it had changed over the years. Sweet Tuktirey emerged from the treeline, her older brother in tow. It was difficult to wrap your mind around how much the girl had grown since the Sully’s departure. Where once skipped a tiny optimistic child of sunshine now bloomed a beautiful young woman on the precipice of adulthood. Still only a teenager, Tuk had seen more than most people should in their early years.

It was a relief to find that the trials of war failed to dim her light. 

“I don’t need another one.” Lo’ak insisted.

Your scrubbing intensified but your breath held. Perhaps they wouldn’t see you. 

“Just a small one right here.” Tuk halted her brother sternly before carefully selecting a stray braid to bring forward. “It would look so pretty!” She giggled and Lo’ak scoffed.

“Pretty? What type of vibe do you think I’m going for?” Hands on his hips and eyes narrowing it was still easy to see the glimmer of teasing there. It only made Tuk laugh harder. 

“Whatever it is, it's too late to save you from it now.” The words barely left her lips before a shriek followed and she was racing away from her brother’s chase after her tail. The edges of your lips curved upwards. “Lo’ak!” She screeched, now trying to elbow her way out of his grasp. 

They wrestled along the rocky shore until his younger sister was gasping for a truce. Dopey grins matched as the two finally broke away to collect themselves. Your eyes refused to be diligent as you kept forcing them back at your task. 

Their laughter died down suspiciously quick and through the gentle breeze you could just barely pick up on whispering. The weight of their attention bore down on you. The scrubbing picked up tenfold. There are still three rags left but maybe-

“Y/N!” Tuk called, practically skipping your direction. There was no hope in hiding now.

You flipped over in mock surprise, a warm grin naturally taking place as you saw her rush your way. 

“Hi Tuk.” Infusing friendliness into your tone and body language you tried to keep your eyes pinned on the younger Na’vi and not her shadow that followed behind. 

“What are you doing?” She immediately swooped in to kneel beside you. 

“Tuk, don’t bother her.” Lo’ak called, gently jogging to catch up. His hair was down today, decorated braids swinging with every step. 

“I’m not bothering her!” She shot back with a huff as he came to a halt before them. Lo’ak’s dark eyebrows dropped, giving his sister a doubtful look. 

“She is fine.” You gave a firm assurance but purposefully veered your attention back at the sudsy rag. Otherwise you were sure to notice insignificant details like the return of his battle band and the way it gave a further optical illusion of his slim waist. 

“Are these from grandmother’s tent?” Tuk gestured to the pile of rags. 

“Just giving them a quick wash.” 

“All by yourself?” Her surprise at such a thing warmed your heart, even more so as she reached to grab one of the rags.

“Oh no, Tuk. It is alright. I can manage.” Your concerns are quickly shushed as she swats your hand away. “I don’t want to make you late.” 

From the look on Lo’ak’s face that is exactly what was going to happen. Whatever engagement they were currently going to was sure to be starting soon. 

“Well…” She dropped the rag, pausing for a moment. “I can’t really stay long…”

“Do not worry.” You laughed softly, placing a hand on her arm but there was a flicker of mischief in her smile. 

“But Lo’ak can help!” Within one yank to his arm she had her older brother falling to his knees. 

“Oh no Tu-”

“He’s great at washing rags! Best in our family, actually.” 

The bizarre lie almost had your panic melting into humor. You expected Lo’ak to intervene again but despite the roll of his eyes and reprimanding look shot Tuk’s way, he was already shifting to get comfortable and reach for the next rag. 

“No, really.” You caught the rag from his fingertips and alongside it his gaze as well. Pools of gold studied you with a diligence that made your skin burn. 

“I can walk myself the rest of the way.” Tuk happily chirped, rising to her feet. Ripping the cloth away you scrambled to gather the rest of the supplies. It didn’t help when two four-fingered hands gently helped you gather the mess silently. 

“I appreciate it, Tuk, but I really should head back as well.” 

Her shoulders dropped. Within a stride Lo’ak was in your space. Instinct almost had you reeling backwards before you realized it was to simply hand over the rest of the supplies. 

“We can walk you.” He offered, voice warm and smooth like falling molasses. 

“No thank you.” Two steps backwards and your lungs could finally fill with air not drenched in his essence. 

“But you’ll be at the party tonight, right?” Tuk perked over his shoulder, eyes wide and already on her toes for an answer.

“Party?” 

“More of a small get together, near the old shack.” Lo’ak corrected. 

“Anything but small. There will be food and music and an excuse to dress up.” Her hairless brows wiggled, a glee that was intoxicating. 

“I don’t know I-”

“Oh you can wear that new top! I’ve been dying to see it on someone! Lo’ak would barely let me look at it while he was making it, let alone try it on.” Supple lips formed into a pout.

“Okayyy,” He drawled, slinging an arm around her shoulders. Tuk shrunk under the weight, squirming as he began to pull her back. “I think you’ve bugged the poor woman enough.” 

She hissed back at him, ducking under his arm to be released. A few comments shot between the two in English but Tuk reluctantly began to inch away. 

“We do hope you can make it.” There those eyes were again, studying you for any change. Perhaps he was waiting to see if you would shout, run off, even raise a hand at him. If so, it would be a relief to see him finally catching on to his standing with you. “Call for me if you need help. I will come.”He promised and Tuk quickly ran up to wave goodbye.

 Just as you thought the coast was clear, making your way upshore, footsteps came up fast. You turned and startled slightly to find Lo’ak so close again. He held something wrapped in leaves. 

Lo’ak held it up with a half grin. 

“Lunch, paskalin [honey].” Before you could shoot back your protests he had it tied to your bag strap and was jogging away. You watched his retreat longer that you would have cared to admit. Not your fault. Lo’ak had a way of catching you off guard. That’s all it was, you told yourself. It had nothing to do with the way sunlight danced across his shoulder blades. 

Lo’ak made it seem like attending tonight’s party was optional. A stance that Talu clearly did not share as she braided small flowers into your hair. You could try to convince her otherwise, maybe even make up a lie but you knew better than to underestimate Talu’s ability to shackle you into social events. When she had an idea in her head nothing would sway her away. 

Yet another reason your theory of her aiding the younger Sully son concerned you. Although you’d hate to believe it, it would surely only take witnessing a few of her conversations with Neteyam to confirm such meddling. And with how often Neteyam swept her away, there was simply too much time for scheming to take place. 

“Don’t you think it is a little rude not to wear it?” Talu huffed, holding the sparkling top out to you. The same one a certain Sully had gifted.  

“Seems more rude to give him false hope by wearing it.” 

“Oh come now, you can’t seriously claim there is no hope for him to cling to.” Talu rolled her eyes, carefully turning each piece of the top so it laid in the right direction. When faced with your deadpanned expression she let out a sight, shoulders dropping. “I’m just saying it would match nicely with the flowers.”

“I’m wearing the purple vines.” You reiterated, eyes narrowing.

“Alright alright,” She carefully laid down the garment and turned to show her surrender. “Have it your way.” 

It would be foolish to believe that her acceptance would be anything more than short lived. Bracing yourself for the night ahead you carefully dressed and began crafting a game plan. Anything that would keep Lo’ak off your back and therefore sail you through the party swiftly. 

Tuk was right. This ‘small gathering’ was anything but intimate. While it was clear that not all clan members were not invited, it was obvious which demographic they were catering to. Almost every young single warrior, healer, and gatherer had shown up with dazzling garments and the motivation to whisk the night into a frenzy. Frankly it was surprising that Tuk’tirey was allowed at this party at all. 

Then again, she came with three taller, older escorts flanking her sides. 

You could practically feel Talu’s grin, although she strategically turned to hide it. She had a way with men that seemed to serve her well. Never reveal your cards too early. 

It was a success for as far as you could tell because the future Olo’eyktan barely made out simple greetings as his eyes were drawn back to your sister like a moth to flame. It was starting to get uncomfortable. And although you couldn’t be more happy for your sister, it became clear that taking your turns around the gathering would serve you better. 

The old shack was something you had never ventured to see. As children with the Sullys you had refused to get anywhere near it. Even now as it was almost entirely swallowed by Eywa’s forest and your friends served drinks from inside, it felt as if hallowed spirits still drifted through its ugly halls. There were too many memories held in that strange kelku. And while none of them were yours, the familiar RDA symbols had it feeling all too personal. 

Steering away from the looming structure you found solace in a circle of young females. Most were warriors that you had little interaction with but you had spent enough time Penyau in the healer’s tent to consider her a friend, so her presence was sufficient. You were only half listening as the topic flowed from upcoming gatherings to new gems found in the nears caves. Nothing that you were interested in chiming in on but the circle of females were your armor against Lo’ak. And that’s all that mattered. 

At least, that is what you assumed until a finger was tapping you on the shoulder. 

A flurry of golden eyes immediately snapped to the space behind you. It was clear who stood there even before you turned around. 

“Good evening, sisters. Do I mind if I borrow Y/N for a moment?”

“More than a moment if you’d like.” One female responded with a suggestive smirk and that earned her a series of giggling laughter. It gave Lo’ak more than enough courage to lead you away. 

Once out of their ear shot there was no more reason to play nice. 

“Dinner.” Lo’ak said simply, gently handing over the leaf of meat. 

His gentle expression was met with a scowl.

“I can get my own food, Lo’ak. I am in no need of being fed like a child.” Although, the food was currently being served inside of the shack and you would rather starve than set foot in there. However, that information was none of Lo’ak’s business. 

“Of course you do not need it, paskalin.” His deep chuckle was accompanied by a smile that was far too resilient. “But I have committed to courting you and part of that is proving my ability to provide. So as far as I’m concerned I will treat you as if that responsibility has already fallen on my shoulders.” 

“Well, it’s not.” Sharp words and a quick shove had your hands empty once more. Although his tail drooped there was an indistinguishable flame of determination present in his countenance. This man was going to be the death of you. “And I’m not hungry.” 

“Too full from the peanut butter?” He guessed with a crooked smile. It cracked your composure for a split second. Both of those dark eyebrows raised. They taunted you because one way or another Lo’ak had come to figure out the truth and he knew there was no way to refute it. 

Jaw clenched and arms crossed, your eyes flashed back with that same fervent challenge. Even as that handsome face threatened to melt you into a puddle you held your ground. How arrogant could he be to still dare showing his face at you like this after everything? Those white teeth on display as if he had won the prize. Beaded braids pulled up into a neat bun to show off his defined shoulders and chest like a true whore. Wearing that frayed tewng that danced like true seduction in the wind as if he would be getting anything close to lucky tonight. 

It was baffling to try and understand where he got such nerve. 

“Well if you are so persistent on making yourself useful then maybe you should shift your efforts towards getting me a drink instead.” It wasn’t often that you partook in strong drink. The idea often felt childish and pointless. Tonight however….tonight it sounded like an Eywa-send in getting through these interactions. 

Anything that would soar you through this nightmare would be welcomed with open arms. 

“Of course, tanhi.” Lo’ak shook his head with a fond grin. 

Before he could depart however, you caught his arm. He halted immediately. 

“From there.” You pointed towards the furthest corner of the shack. A small gaggle of Na’vi were sprawled out across the floor in giggling fits. It was clear from the look in their eyes that not a single worry could fall upon them. Their drink was strong, no doubt about it. 

“You don’t want that.” 

“And how do you know?”

Lo’ak set the food down to mimic your stance, arms flexed as they crossed. 

“That shit will knock you into next week.”

“And you somehow know that is what I don’t like?” You challenged. “Who's to say I don’t drink it on the regular? Unless you somehow had ways of stalking me all the way from Awa’atlu.” 

You expected him to sigh and admit defeat with reluctance. Maybe throw in a few claims to battle your own but Lo’ak was never one to meet your expectations. He took two strides forward. He had no right to invade your space but somehow the idea of stepping back looked like defeat. 

“That, paskalin, is from Awa’atlu. I should know because I brought it. And I will tell you honestly that pxir [type of alcohol] is nothing like the sweet drinks we make here. It is mostly drunk by men two times your size.” Lo’ak tucked a curl behind your ear. “It will fuck you up.” 

It was not the first time Lo’ak had your teeth grinding to the point of your jaw aching, and you feared it would neither be the last. Even as children he had a way of getting under your skin, tugging at your hair, making teasing comments that had you hissing back at him. That special skill had not been lost, but now…now you knew how to deal with cocky Sully men. 

“I don’t remember asking for the lineage, skxawng.” Your nimble fingers drew your thick hair over one shoulder. “But if you don’t want to get it for me, I’m sure I could find another capable suitor that will.” 

To his credit, Lo’ak’s mask stayed in place. It was the rising of his shoulders that gave away your success. A deep breath was drawn into his lung and that smile waivered like grinding gears that had grown rusty. It shifted into something resembling more of a sarcastic grin. 

“Fine.” He huffed, his show of pearly whites demonstrating anything but joy. “Have it your way, tanhi.” 

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding when he went to retrieve a share of pxir. He couldn’t return soon enough. If you had to endure his intoxicating scent and teasing grin for one more moment without aid, the night would end in violence. Lo’ak kept his own small bowl of drink after handing you one. 

He waited, watching you closely. Perhaps he thought you were going to back out. A small voice in your head said that it might have been best but it was too late to retreat now. So with the best mask of confidence you could muster, you held the bowl up in cheers and took a large gulp. 

The taste was fowl!

Absolutely horrific as it seethed your throat with fire. How did any of the Metkayina chose such a drink in full consciousness? Lo’ak patted your back as you choked on the few remaining drops that had gone down the wrong tube. The gesture was quickly swatted away. Your own annoyance only rising as you looked down to see that he had already finished his bowl in silence. 

“It’s a shock to the system I know…no Y/N don’t-”

Three more gulps and that scorching fire was settled in your stomach and the bowl empty. Your nose tingled like it was about to erupt as your eyes squeezed shut. 

“Woah hey, easy there.”

“Another.” Your tone came out like gravel as you handed him the bowl. 

“Uh yeah right.” He scoffed, taking it away. The liquid only spiked your courage, pushing you to face the male head on but then…it unfortunately had you sense of gravity shifting as well. Lo’ak quickly wrapped a securing arm around your waist as you stumbled a few steps. Shit, this stuff worked fast. “Here, eat something.” 

He brought a piece of yerik meat to your lips and that made you squirm to get away.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You snipped.

“Pxir is worse on an empty stomach, trust me.” 

“That easy huh?”

Lo’ak sighed, bringing the food down. “Okay I deserved that but-”

“I don’t want your food, Lo’ak.” There was still enough coordination left to wiggle yourself out of his grasp and stomp to the other side of the gathering. In all fairness, the ground did move side to side with every step but you managed just the same. 

Unfortunately, you couldn’t escape him even while dancing. Toruk Makto’s youngest son remained leaned against a tree on the outskirts, eyes pinned on you diligently. It felt as if you could never get a break from his weighted presence. Why was he not enjoying the party like everyone else? Was it really worth skipping out on getting drunk with old friends just to babysit you?

Walking, let alone dancing, was a struggle but you made a crooked path to him as fast as you could, one hand pushing against his chest. Lo’ak barely flinched.

“You’re watching me.” You accused him. 

“First experience with Metkayina alcohol requires supervision.” 

“And you have to do it from the shadows like a stalker?” Your words were already slurring together but it was hard to tell if that was how it sounded out loud or simply the distortions of your inhibited brain. 

“I’d be more than happy to keep a closer eye on you but it seemed like you wanted space.” He shrugged, eyes darting to where you swayed back and forth. 

“You’re right. I do.” One pointed finger stabbed at his chest with each word. Eywa, he was so warm. 

His mouth opened to treat you to yet again his annoyingly low baritone but then….

“Your sister is calling you.” 

Your claim had his brows raising before slowly turning around to look. It seemed that Eywa was on your side tonight after all because Tuktirey was in fact trying to get down one of her beaded chains from a high branch. How it got up there was a mystery to you but one that you had no interest in solving. 

A forced breath puffed from his nose before he turned back towards you.

“Just,” His lips pressed into a thin line, ears tucking back. “Stay here. Eat something.” That leaf of meat was tucked into your hand before Lo’ak was stalking towards his younger sister. 

As if.

You carelessly flung the leaf away, taking in this new breath of freedom. Eywa only knew where Talu was and conversing with the girls once more no longer seemed appealing but there was still one thing on your mind. The same thing that would erase all other thoughts and help you survive. 

Lo’ak had taken his share of the pxir with him so you were forced to find your own means of acquiring some. Going into the old shack was still not on your agenda but surely you could think of some plan before getting there. And just like that an idea hit you.

Quite literally. 

The male let out a small grunt as you incidentally knocked into him. Immediately strong arms were steadying you back into place with a half hearted laugh.

“Apologies, sister. Woah hey, you got it?” The male was tall and strong, a wall of muscle with a battle band meaning he must have been a warrior. His features held a flame of familiarity but you couldn’t recall his name. However, looking down at the bowl in his hand you realized he perfectly met your two requirements. 

He wasn’t Lo’ak.

He had pxir. 

“Irayo [thank you], I’m just a little…knocked off my axis.” 

He had a pleasing smile. And his braids were shiny. A few clumsy bats of your lashes and the male was already rising to play the hero. He guided you carefully to a stump where you could sit, saying another quiet apology and offering his services. 

“There isn’t anything I can do for you?” At first you figured he was nothing more than a sweet gentleman who somehow got his hands on the strong drink by luck. However, when your eyes locked with his you could see the faintest tremble of a smirk wanting to take place. 

Not too well behaved after all. 

Just what the doctor ordered. 

“Well, I am a little thirsty.” You couldn’t quite remember what a seductive expression would look like and doing that while riding the line of innocence and suggestive was nothing more than a train wreck. 

He wasn’t picky though. 

Neither was his price high as he brought you bowl after bowl of strong drink. The two of you began to make games out of it. Seeing who could drink the fastest. Seeing who could still stand up straight. These little contests became funnier with every sip, although this mysterious man had size on his side and therefore started to smoke your ass at every game. 

You couldn’t remember how you made it back to the dance floor. You weren’t even sure if you were doing anything more than swaying in place but it didn’t really matter when you had him to cling on to. The drinks kept coming even as your head grew heavy and eyes blurry until the scene was just pretty streaks of color. You couldn’t remember the last time you saw him take a sip but he never asked you to stop, making trip after trip for more.

A wave of victory washed over you upon spotting Lo’ak’s scowl from the sidelines. This was the perfect plan indeed. So perfect that you must not have been that drunk after all. You had the Sully boy off of your ass and a handsome male keeping you from falling down as you drank away the worries. 

At some point in time you recalled heated voices coming from above. Another taller frame pressing against your opposite side until you are sandwiched. The heat of wandering hands. Your giggles that rang in your ears in such a funny way it had you laughing again. 

It was warm. Oh so warm.

And his hair danced in the breeze beneath your fingertips, shells and beads clinking together.  

And fragments…the night only existed in fragments.

Ones that trickled off into nothing. 

The nightmare had come on fast. Like a strike from the sky then suddenly you were transported back into that heated tent. Blood spilled from seeping pools along the floor to small clumps that might just never come out from under your nails. Tendons and bone and metal balls. Things that were never meant to be together but time after time you were forced to dig out these demon bullets from warm bodies. 

You hit the floor with a thud. Footsteps scrambled across the space. 

The explosions continued in the background. Like fire in the sky that these demons had somehow figured out how to harness. And as you frantically stitched up a gushing wound you couldn’t help but wonder where it had hit. Who it had hit. Your work was getting messy. Not only from your shaking hands but the squirming of the man beneath you. His cries would never leave you.

Arms wrapped around you but they couldn’t stop your shaking. They couldn’t stop the endless line of battered bodies they came through the tent. 

Rumble and crack, sounds that rattled in your chest the same way it shook the ground. You stopped looking at their faces, afraid of who you could see. Had you already stitched up a friend? A child? Your sister…no, she was on your left. She never spoke on these days, covered in blood up to her elbows. 

How long had it been? 

How much longer did you have to go?

Your fingertips were becoming slippery but you wouldn’t look to see what they were covered in. Not when another person was carried to your feet. Not when…not when those screams sound far too young to be more than a child. 

No more.

No more no more no more no more.

Please no more!

“Mawey, tanhi. I’ve got you.”

Another crack. Another vibration. The lump in your throat was sure to be a sob but no one would hear you even if it were to bubble up. It would be drowned in the sea of anguish. Just the way no one would see your shaking hands through the mist of teary eyes. Your throat knotted. You couldn’t get oxygen through just in the same way the chest beneath your hands couldn’t. It heaved and heaved before halting. 

His heart had stopped.

Would yours stop too?

It didn’t matter. There was no time to think about your own oxygen. Just keep going. Don’t stop. Never stop.

“Open your eyes, sevin, please. Open your eyes for me.”

And you were a coward for shifting away but how could they ask you to look? How could they expect you to see the carnage that was once your friends and family? How did war have a way of turning passionate souls into nothing more than fractured skin and bone? It was all you could see now. 

Just blood.

And bone.

And your crooked stitches from cowardice hands. 

“Y/N!”

In a snap you were met with a different view. A canopy of fabrics above, not the same as the healer’s tent. A firm chest pressed against your back and sweet words that resembled nothing of screams. 

The explosions were here though. And each rumble of power was followed by a strike of light and that sharp rippling sound. 

“Please.” You whispered.

“I know, I know. I’ve got you.” A voice soothed and you could only drown in the wetness along your cheeks. Rocked back and forth side to side but the explosions never stopped. 

New sounds accompanied the first and it was only the throb in your throat that revealed it was your own sobs being let loose. Warm skin pressed against your forehead, lips that weren’t outlined in blood. 

“It’s over.” The voice promised. 

You wanted to tell the truth. To say that it would never be over. It could never be over. Not when the memory infiltrated every space in your mind, corrupting what little light was still there. 

You didn’t have enough air to say it, however. Your own cries were what filled the night as the voice whispered soothing promises. Fingers ran through your hair and a heartbeat was beneath your cheek. 

Your eyes gave out before the rumbling did. 

The gentle sway was relaxing. The sound of rain doing even more to calm you slumber as you snuggled deeper into the soft blanket. Fingers grasping at the material, you breathed in the scent with eased contentment. The essence alone was enough to tempt you into falling right back asleep.

Perhaps you could stay here forever. Snuggled in your bed.

That way you would never have to open your eyes because doing so was sure to spin you off your axis. The pounding in your head could only be blamed on last night’s overindulgence but Talu hadn’t come to wake you up yet, so it was fine. 

The branches of your top dug into your side upon turning over and you squirmed to shift it. Much less soft than the usual tops you wore to bed. Did you not change before falling asleep?

Sifting through your memory, however, all you could retrieve was the sound of a calm heart beat and a fresh fragrance that wrapped around you. The same one that filled your lungs from the blanket. 

Your eyes snapped open. 

This was not your room. You could tell from the first glimpse at the overhead marui structure. And with one more inhale that essence led you to believe you knew exactly whose home you were in. Head aching and body feeling like it has the strength of a rag doll you slowly turned to observe your surroundings. With a cringe you held your breath. One look over had your apprehensions confirmed. 

Sprawled out across the kelku floor on the opposite side of the space lay Lo’ak, sound asleep. 

He had one arm tucked beneath his head with a small blanket thrown over his lap that barely covered anything. Long legs strewn messily along the woven floor, his soft lips were parted with just a whisper of breath passing. Glossy braids outlined his chiseled features into something softer. Something that had you turning away abruptly. 

The action only rewarded you with a spinning room, lifting from all sense of reality as you tried not to hurl your guts on his floor. Taking deep breaths you eventually calmed your head and stomach enough to start thinking through your next course of action. 

You hadn’t even attempted to stand up and it had already been a close call, so sneaking away gracefully seemed like an unlikely feat. Still…Lo’ak was asleep. And if his heavy breathing was anything to go by, he was well under.

Rain still trampled the scene outside but the thunder and lightning were gone, at least for now. Your eyes pinched shut, cheeks heating as you tried to to push away the memory of Lo’ak rocking you in his arms. 

All the more reason to get out of here without having to interact. 

Lo’ak’s groan made you freeze in place, one leg already reaching outside of the hammock. He shifted, propping one leg up before letting out a sigh. You prayed to Eywa he was a heavy sleeper. 

It wouldn’t have mattered in the end, however, because when both feet were planted and you went to stand it only resulted in a collapsing with a screech that would have woken up the neighbors, let alone the male sleeping a few paces away. 

Rushed footsteps sounded before two hands tried to help you back up.

“Hey, take it easy.” The tone of his voice had dropped to a rough rumble, thick with the last string of sleep. 

You gulped.

Shoving him off was too much of an effort at this point and to your dismay it seemed that the only way back on your feet was to accept his help. He didn’t give you a chance to try running again, instead helping lift you back onto his bed. With a groan you threw your arm over your eyes. 

It felt as if your head had been trampled beneath a Bone Helm Rhino’s feet. 

“Lo’ak,” You said slowly. “What am I doing in your home? Or more specifically, in your bed?” 

“You really should drink some water.” You could hear him shuffling, mostly likely going to get you some.

“Lo’ak.” Tongue wielded like a knife you took the little energy you had to muster up some remnants of intimidation. 

He sighed. 

“Don’t worry. Nothing like that happened last night. I promise.” 

Despite your frustration, you believed him. Your clothes were still in tack and it appeared that Lo’ak had spent the entire night sleeping on his floor so you could take the bed. Another part of you was more frustrated by the gesture. He was being such a gentleman it was borderline sickening. Why couldn’t you be left alone to hate him in peace? 

“Oh really?” You countered. “Then what did?” 

Although you could feel his stare, the arm over your eyes added a false sense of protection from his intensity. 

“Exactly what I said would happen. You got drunk off your ass and needed someone to take you home.”

Your arm dropped sharply, heating rushing to your face.

“And you thought that meant taking me to your home?” The sound of your own raging voice caused a ringing in your ears. Lo’ak remained unfazed, a leaf of water already waiting in his other hand. 

“I would’ve walked you home tanhi but…” He cringed slightly.

“But what?” You pressed, eyes narrowing. 

“Well it was my horny brother that would have kept you up all night so I figured it was my responsibility to help you find some place more…comfortable.” 

Your nose scrunched. So many tiny pieces of information yet nothing was coming together to create a true picture of what had been your prior night’s experience. 

“He stayed over?” It shouldn’t have surprised you. Talu and Neteyam were progressing at such a fast rate you sometimes wondered if mating was only a few weeks away. Staying the night was only bound to happen before then, especially with those secretive looks that you were forced to witness. 

“Still is.” Lo’ak urged the leaf forward, which you reluctantly accepted. Even the cool water burned your battered throat. “I didn’t want them waking you.” 

“Sure.” You deadpanned.

“He is not the quietest-”

“Ew! Lo’ak, I don’t want to hear about that.” You reeled back, desperately trying to erase invading images of your sister and the future Olo’eyktan as fast as possible. You loved your sister but hearing about her sex life was not on your list of priorities. A sentiment you wish she had in common with you but there were far too many times that she pushed for information on your end.

Lo’ak laughed and leaned back onto his haunches. 

“Well neither do I but it’s information I am burdened with.” His fingers ran through his braids. “Shared a marui with him in Awa’atlu for far too long.” Lo’ak muttered. 

“So it’s a good thing you’re here. Won’t have to witness it for yourself.” He patted your knee with a smile before rising to refill the water. You scowled at his back, amiss that he couldn’t properly see your disdain. 

With the clouded sky it was difficult to tell how long you had been there but you were ready to suffer the physical strain of walking back in this horrid state if it meant avoiding addressing the elephant in the room. 

“Well excuse me if I’m not quick to thank you but I really should be getting back now.” 

He eyed you cautiously from across the room. Putting on a tough facade was difficult when your limbs would hardly coordinate as your head pounded relentlessly. You didn’t manage to swing your legs over the hammock again before Lo’ak had crossed the room and was handing you more water. 

“One thing I know about Neteyam is that he likes to take his damn time. It’s going to be a while.” 

“Oh please, all men claim that.” You scoffed, taking the water from his hands. “Surely even the walk back would be enough time.” You scoffed after downing the liquid. 

“Tanhi, you are brutal.” Lo’ak said with an amused chuckle. 

“No, I’m realistic.”

“Pessimistic.” He corrected, eyebrows raised in a challenge. 

You tapped a finger against your chin as if in deep thought. “Hm let me guess, you are the great exception then? Your claim to a woman's pleasure being sincere for once.”

Those golden orbs darkened slightly, his tail swishing in a slow rhythm. “I don’t have to claim anything. Actions speak louder than words.” 

That glimmer of mischief sparked just the same as it did when he was a child. However this time it held promises of things far less innocent. You wondered how many Metkayina women had fallen prey to that vibrant spark. His appeal was undeniable and yet another reason the sight of him made your blood boil. 

When were you ever going to catch a break? Your racing heart could surely use one. 

“Typical.” You scoffed, finally relenting to being trapped, flopping onto your back. 

Lo’ak chuckled and rose, towering over where you laid. From this angle you could see far too much, every chiseled muscle in his body contrasted by the low light. 

“Well if you ever want to examine the evidence up close yourself, I am at your beck and call.” He tucked one stray strand away from your forehead and retreated before you could reprimand him. Heat sparked down from your face until reaching your collarbones. 

He was such an asshole. Thinking there would ever be a day where you would want that. You were not another doe eyed female he could win over. Even if your eyes strayed far too long as he began adjusting the waterproof fabrics to hang from the marui’s openings. That superficial attraction meant nothing but that you were in the prime mating season of your life. Hormones were a powerful force but not enough for you to forget what he had done. 

If any other typical warrior were to take his place the effect would have surely been the same. In fact you remembered feeling that pull to another male last night.

Your tail curled around your thigh. What had happened to him? Flashes of dancing and drinking with the warrior were strong enough to be real but beyond that everything else was a blur. All you knew is that he was more than willing to bring you drink after drink. 

Did he see you leave with Lo’ak at the end of the party? There may not have been any true long term interest for the male but you would still feel bad if running off with Lo’ak had snipped him in some way. Especially when getting further entangled with the Olo’eyktan’s youngest son was the last thing you desired. 

When Lo’ak scaled the side support beam to flank down the next cover, you caught sight of scabbed marks along his knuckles. 

“You hit him?!” 

“What?” Lo’ak casted you a glance from where he hung from the beam, thighs flexed around the base to keep him in place. 

A fiery glare was shot at his hand.

“Oh this,” He peeled the hand from the bar, casually using one arm to keep a grip. “Yeah I met your special friend last night.” The frown upon his lips showed that he had anything but fond memories of the interaction.

“What a character he is.” Lo’ak grumbled lowly, more so to himself than you. 

Like lightning a flash of anger coursed through your veins. Clenched fists and wobbly legs scrambled to push you back into an upright position. 

“Lo’ak te Suli Tsyeyk’itan you had no right!”

His legs unfurled and he hung from the bar with one hand, the other out in form of surrender.

“Now wait a minut-”

“You think that just because you want to court me that it puts me off the market for all other men? It’s not their fault that you are too stubborn to let me ignore you peacefully! So what now? Are you going to punch every male that looks in my direction?”

“That’s not what happened.”

“Can’t even handle the slightest bite of competition?” 

His eyes narrowed, ears pinned backwards as he leveled you with a fierce stare. It was too late. You were on a roll. 

Ignoring the swirling of the room you stomped over to him, finger poking aggressively into his chest as you spoke. “If you don’t like seeing me with other suitors then I suggest you skip to the inevitable outcome and find yourself another woman to annoy! Maybe she will take your constant nagging as a compliment.” 

Your chest heaved from the effort, lungs filling with oxygen rapidly as silence fell. An eerie silence that made you shudder from the drafting wind. Lo’ak watched you, voice stoic of emotion before fixing the last flap and dropping to his feet with a thud. Towering over you like a shadow in the night, it was difficult to force yourself to keep from stepping back. 

Two more steps and he was close enough to feel the heat of his skin. 

“Napau is a crook and disgrace to the title he held. Any man that schemes to take advantage of a woman under strong drink against her will does not deserve to breathe the air Eywa gives. He is lucky that I only had time to get a few hits in.” Lo’ak’s voice dropped into a low register that burned with seething fire. 

“He knows what will happen if he crosses my path again. Or Neteyam’s for that matter.” Dark promises whistled in his words, an intense sincerity that had your own nerves rattling. You could only imagine how Napau would have fared under that same intimidation last night. 

And then Lo’ak was gone, calmly walking to the other side of kelku to secure the next flap. 

A mixture of embarrassment, regret, and dread swirled in your chest. If what Lo’ak said was true then last night could have ended so much worse than it did. A million possible scenarios crammed themselves to the front of your mind until you could feel nausea settling in. During the party you couldn’t even remember Napau’s name and yet that was almost the man taking you to bed. 

“You…You told Neteyam?”

“He saw enough to confirm the origin of my actions. Napau won’t bother you again, tanhi.” He didn’t turn to face you, pulling on the rope tight to keep the fabric in place. 

“What does that mean?” A part of you was reluctant to ask but you needed to know what became of him and even more so what had almost become of you. 

It seemed Lo’ak was even more reluctant than you to talk about it when his tail dropped and he let out a heavy sigh. He remained diligent in waterproofing the marui despite the heavy topic. 

“It means he got off with more mercy than he deserved. As I said he was not worthy of the warrior title he held so that was remedied and now he knows better than to come within half a mile of you or me.” 

“His title was revoked? How is that even possible? Without the proper authority-”

“Neteyam will be Olo’eyktan soon enough. One word to my father from him will be enough, trust me.” He peeked over his shoulder, watching the way your eyes ran from side to side as you processed the information. It was too much to sort in your hazy mind, too many emotions that couldn’t be felt separately. 

Lo’ak softened.

Leaving the flap aside he made gentle steps in your direction, careful not to scare you away. 

“Don’t let this weigh on you, tanhi. It has been solved.” Voice smooth and tender, it didn’t matter because it was clear your mind was somewhere else. 

“What did he do exactly?” 

That struck Lo’ak into a posture as stiff as a board. His tail froze and eyes melted back into that stormy gold color. 

“I don’t want to talk about it.” 

“Well I do.” You insisted, catching his arm when he went to turn. His whole body froze this time, eyes darting down to where you clasped his forearm. Lo’ak had grown tall, taller than most Na’vi thanks to his father’s Avatar genes. It therefore required your neck craning backward to stare up at him properly. 

“I am grateful to Eywa that you do not have to remember such events.”

“But-”

“However, I can assure you that he got no further than a few unwanted kisses and squeezes before I stepped in.” Lo’ak stayed in place, no longer in a rush to fix the kelku as you let his words marinate. It was harder to feel the true wash of relief when your own shouts against the Sully son had been reframed into something more brutal. Apologizing felt like the last thing you wanted to do, especially since a part of you could not let go of your lingering anger towards him. 

Lo’ak had saved you. 

Why couldn’t you have saved yourself?

All because your stupid pride and spite towards the male had clouded your judgment into behaving foolishly. This is not who you were. Never before had you indulged in such reckless behavior and yet within the first couple weeks of the Sullys returning this is what Lo’ak got to see of you. What type of sorcery did his mere presence hold to shove you into madness? 

Lightning struck from above, thunder falling far too quickly after. 

Nails digging into Lo’ak’s arm, you watched the sky carefully through the front entrance. 

“It bothers me too.” 

His voice snapped you back to attention as hard as the crackling lightning. 

“The storm.” He clarified, meeting your startled gaze with a soft composure. “The sound is all too…familiar.” 

There were no further words needed to understand what he meant. The Sky Demon’s erupting fire had been relentless. Always taking. Always destroying. Crumbling your land before you in a matter of blinking. Awa’atlu no doubt had not been exempt from such cruelty.

“Should I feel sorry for you then?” The cycle of storm started up again and with the next crack of lightning your voice came out shakier than intended. 

Lo’ak’s shoulders fell.

“No tanhi,” He sighed, pausing for a moment. “I’m not telling you this to gain your sympathy. I only want you to know that I would never judge you for feeling that fear too.” His eyes flickered down to where you still dug into his arm as the storm carried forward. 

You quickly snapped away, taking a few steps back for measure. Veering your attention away from the entrance, you hoped the lack of visual would keep you from crumbling further in terror. 

“I don’t want to talk about it.” You mumbled.

“And we don’t have to.” 

Such a different tune than the one Lo’ak often sang but one look at his expression showed that he was not lying. 

“But you know where I am if you ever do.” He gave a half smile and crossed to put the last flap over the entrance. You weren’t oblivious to the occasional glance he casted from the corner of his eye to check up on you. 

Having the marui enclosed completely did aid in dampening your anxiety. It gave you a moment to look around and fully take in your surroundings. It had only been a few weeks since the Sullys had returned to the forest so you were surprised to see his living space so thoroughly crafted. Small candles lit a soft glow that seemed to fill the area with warmth. 

Thinking of Lo’ak you would have expected his space to be covered with a messy floor and toppled gear but what you found was quite the contrary. Neat baskets held smaller household items while his weapons were securely kept in hanging shelves. Spears, bows, knives, and other Sky Demon weaponry. Your eyes were caught on the ominous guns before getting snapped away by the sound of thunder. 

Your arms snaked around your own waist, willing your heart rate to slow. 

Soft lips threatened to break beneath your sharp teeth. Although exhausted it felt as if your body was on a buzz, a vibration that would have you shattering to pieces. 

“How do you deal with it?” The question sprung without thought. 

“With what?” You had his attention now, his hands swiping at the rain covering his arms. 

“The storm. If it bothers you so much, how do you manage?” Although initially embarrassed by your impromptu question it did help to shift the weight over to Lo’ak instead of you. Anything to avoid bringing up the way you had cried in his arms. 

Lo’ak surprisingly lit up at the inquiry. A smile curved at his lips and the air of a secret you were not privy to filled his aura. 

“I have a secret weapon.” He said proudly, motioning for you to follow him as he quickly dropped to his knees and shuffled through baskets. At the mention of weapons you were already hesitant, stiff as a board. However, for as far as you knew everything that could do harm was on the other side of his marui, so you slowly dropped to your knees beside him. 

Lo’ak pulled out on those glowing squares that the scientists were always tapping on. You’d seen them many times in your trips to the outpost but never were interested in becoming familiar with it. This one was smaller, though. So small it fit in the palm of his hand. Then he pulled out another metal object that was an oval shape. 

With a few taps on the tiny pad the oval began singing. You shuffled backwards, almost hitting the hammock behind, as if the small device would attack. When it made no other movement you relaxed and awkwardly crouched back into place. To his credit, Lo’ak tried to hide his laughter. 

Sky Demon music is strange. So different from the lively drums that accompanied their ceremonies. From the foreign words to strange layers of sound it was always too overwhelming. But this song stood apart. 

No language to throw you off but whistling of high and low that would meld into perfect harmony. Lo’ak watched as you creeped ever closer. Despite its soft essence the music gently floated over the sound of thunder and lightning until it felt like the only air filling the marui.

Your tail curled lazily along the floor. Hands bracing yourself forward you drank in every note and phrases that formed together. There was no way of predicting which message would sprout from one to the next but somehow it maintained that perfect fluidity. Like the roots of the trees that intertwined all greenery together, this song was its own habitat. 

“Beautiful.” Lo’ak murmured, like a whisper of a secret. 

“Beautiful.” You couldn’t help but agree, but when you looked up his eyes were only set on you. Warmth crackled through your veins. 

He rose to his feet second after and you craned to look at him. 

“I will go drag my brother out so you can go home. At least make sure he’s decent.” His right ear twitched as a glimmer of amusement snuck through. “But you are free to stay as long as you like.”

The rain was still coming down in sheets outside. When Lo’ak pushed the cover aside you could see another flash of light from the sky. He stepped out into the shower without hesitation, braids becoming shiny in the rain. For a moment you considered protesting, insisting that he wait until the storm had passed, but you feared the contradiction. Only a mere moment ago you were stumbling to return. 

“Tanhi, you were right.” Lo’ak called over the pounding rain. “It did bother me to see you with him.” 

There and gone within a flash. You were left to sit in his kelku with lips parted and head more dizzy than ever. Despite how much there was to unpack you allowed yourself to sink into the sweet melody. Curling up with the blanket that had fallen to the floor you decided that you didn’t have to go back, not just yet. 

“Kaltxi [hello], traitor.” You huffed after breaching the entrance. There was no sight of Neteyam but you could still smell his specific essence in the air. Talu’s ears twitched up at the sound of your voice, pausing from where she was cleaning her room. 

“Oh come on, don’t be like that.” She chastised you but a smile was already forming along her lips. She tugged the trunk from the corner quickly and sat down atop it. Elbows resting on her crossed legs and eyes shining with interest, her keen attitude was far too much for your hungover state to handle. “Tell me everything!” 

“Where would you like me to start? Waking up today in another man’s bed? Or maybe I could tell the story from when you decided to toss me off to him so you could entertain a certain prince last night.” Your arms crossed and nose scrunched as you glared down at her. 

Your agitation only increased when Talu let out a short laugh. 

“Toss you off? Tsmuke [sister] I could not have pried you away from him last night.” Her correction was accompanied by her own body language mimicking yours, lips tempted into a playful smirk. It made your own countenance falter. 

“What are you talking about?” Narrowed eyes pinned her into place but Talu already wore a giddy grin. 

“I tried several times to take you home last night but you would not have it. You were glued to Lo’ak’s side, kept talking about how good he smelled.” Her smile only grew as fire burned into your cheeks. “He even offered to walk you home but it was you that insisted upon staying with him. You were absolutely smitten.” She giggled.

“I was absolutely drunk!” You hissed, tailing coiling around your own ankle. You ran your fingers through the root of your tangled hair, eyes squeezing shut in horror. This is not how Lo’ak had told the story. Why would he have spun it differently? “And you just let me fall all over him? Let him take me back to his place so you could fuck his older brother?!”

“Mawey tiyawn [calm down love],” She urged, voice far gentler than your own as she stood and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “Lo’ak promised nothing would happen and I believed him especially after…” That usual soft composure sharpened into something fierce. You knew exactly what she was remembering. You were confident that Talu would snap Napau in half herself were it not for Lo’ak getting their first. Despite her sweet and tempered demeanor your sister could be vicious once provoked. She had a protective streak that no one could dampen. 

“Yes yes I know.” You groaned. 

“So then you know that it’s all handled then. Neteyam is on his way to talk to Olo’eyktan right now.”

“Don’t remind me.” You spoke on an exhale, arms dropping to your side. This headache was never going to go away and now it had more ammunition to swirl it into chaos. Was it really as bad as Talu described? How were you ever going to face him again? And yet Lo’ak had not spoken of your clinging once. 

“He was quite heroic.” Talu smiled, finger moving to start releasing the knots in your hair. “I thought after how scared you were with Napau that you would want to return home immediately but you melted so easily in Lo’ak’s arms. A few minutes of playing with his hair and you were happy as a clam.”

You covered your heated face, stomach twisting as you imagined the scene. 

“Bury me ten feet under.” You whined, slumping into her arms. Talu shushed your worries, nimble fingers doing wonders for your chaotic hair. 

“Oh now don’t be so dramatic. I’m sure Lo’ak would never hold it against you.”

And he didn’t. In fact, he went out of his way to spin another story with the omission of your embarrassing desires. Why would he do that? He had been given the perfect ammunition. The perfect proof that you were interested in him and yet he had done nothing with it? Threw it out before even utilizing it. 

Surely there was some leverage to be gained after all of his courting to now find you falling all over him. 

None of it made sense and perhaps the remnants of pxir were stronger than you anticipated. It seemed as if the world had been spun on its top. You were nowhere closer to unwinding this web now than you were a few hours ago so you might as well rest. With that in mind you unclasped yourself from Talu’s arms and told her you were going to lay down. 

Hallway out the door way she stopped you. 

“You aren’t mad, are you? Truly?” Her voice wavered with hesitation for the first time since your arrival. “It wasn’t my intention to bring him home but once you were in such good hands….well, the night was so perfect and-”

“It is fine.” You reassured her, hand lazily landing on her shoulder. 

“Thank you.” Talu whispered, her eyes melting into a warm honey hue. You shrugged it off. 

“I hope he was worth it.” You snorted but one look at the Talu’s sneaking grin and swatting tail told you so much more about their night of fun than you would have liked to know. 

Thankfully the storm did not continue much longer. Rain continued to wash over the forest but thunder and lightning had taken its absence. It allowed you to fall head first into a deep sleep, although your dreams were riddled with passing memories. Glimpses of Lo’ak’s hands coming up to wipe away tears. The stretch of blue skin along his shoulder and throat that you snuggled into until his essence was clear. Even the deep rumble of soothing praise as you let yourself fall back into his chest. 

Hours later a shuffling of footsteps by the door pulled you out of sleep. Feeling much stronger now, you slowly padded to the entrance with pinched brows. Lo’ak was already gone but another cooked meal was left in his place with a homemade umbrella perched atop to keep it dry. 

You thought nothing of it, although begrudgingly grateful for something to fill your stomach. But then you saw something else neatly fold into a leaf, a note tucked at its side. 

To keep the darkness away

-Lo’ak

And left behind were those two objects that had played such sweet music in his kelku. His secret weapon, now yours to wield.

Any and all feeback is appreciated! It makes a huge difference for motivation and updating<3

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[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 44 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley swallows his pride and seeks out a conversation with Admiral Simpson, but he's surprised by the response he gets. You keep everyone on their toes, and you do it so effortlessly, Bradley knows it's time to go shopping. And he uses Skittles as the perfect cover.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff, smut, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4000 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

When Bradley parked at work a little early on Monday, he sat in the Bronco for a few extra minutes. He had just witnessed you and Noah making breakfast together, and it was making it really hard to be away from you right now. When he walked into the kitchen, you were brewing coffee and singing the dinosaur song with his son while the two of you spread that weird avocado stuff that you liked so much on some toast. He had started to love it, too, and Noah would eat anything you made. 

He removed his aviators and pinched the bridge of his nose. There was so much he wanted to get done this week, including looking at a few engagement rings, but he knew better than to make any sort of excuses to get some time alone. That had nearly backfired on him when he went to get Skittles. He was going to have to get creative somehow.

When he pulled out his phone to call the animal shelter about getting Skittles' cast removed, he froze. Across the parking lot, Nat and Javy were both getting out of his car. "Interesting," he muttered to himself as he watched his best friend groping their coworker, and he grimaced. He'd already seen too much. 

"Hello, this is the San Diego shelter. How can I help you?"

Bradley nearly dropped his phone; he'd forgotten he was making the call. "Yeah, hi. I need to schedule an appointment to have my dog's cast removed?"

"Oh! Are you talking about the Yorkie?"

He smiled as he climbed out onto the already hot pavement. "Yeah. Skittles. I'm hoping she has sufficiently healed."

"Why don't you stop in on Wednesday and we can check her out."

"Sounds good, thanks," he replied, following Nat and Javy at a very conservative distance. But apparently he wasn't cautious enough. 

"So," Nat sighed once Bradley joined her in the hangar, "you saw Javy and I in the parking lot." It wasn't a question, so he decided to just nod and roll his eyes in response. "Oh, come on, Rooster. I'm just having some fun."

"Look at him," Bradley muttered, glancing to where the man in question was smiling at Nat. "Are you serious right now? You want to make him cry or something?"

Now she was the one rolling her eyes. "I'm not taking advice from you. You're historically terrible at dating."

"I'm doing a pretty good job now," he said, smiling as he thought about you.

"You can't even get Cyclone off your girl."

Bradley covered his face with one big palm. "You noticed that?"

Nat laughed. "Everyone at the botanic gardens on Saturday night noticed that."

"Fuck," he groaned. "If she wasn't so young and so fucking hot, I wouldn't be about to embarrass myself by trying to get him to let me fly in the air show."

She just shook her head as she reached for her helmet and muttered, "Oh, cry me a river."

"Hey." Bradley turned just in time to see Javy greeting the two of them like a puppy looking for Nat's attention. He was honestly worse than Skittles at the moment. "The guys are talking about a beach day this weekend. You know, since the summer is ending."

"We don't need to do another beach day. We live in San Diego," Nat replied as she sipped the coffee she wasn't supposed to have inside the hangar. "It's the same season all year round."

Javy laughed like she was a comedian, and Bradley looked back and forth between the two of them, completely baffled by this dynamic. There's no way you and he made a couple this wild. 

"Yeah, but it's still the end of August," Javy said, now smiling at Nat as if she was the most adorable thing in the world. "Rooster, you can bring your girl and your kid. It'll be fun."

"You know what," he replied, "I think I'll go if Nat goes."

Then Bradley strolled away as they started arguing, because he saw Admiral Simpson on his way to the tower. He just needed to get Cyclone alone for a few minutes, swallow his pride, and try to head Jake off for the air show. The opportunity arose after lunch when Bradley caught him checking his phone outside the rec room door.

"Admiral Simpson, sir," he greeted before grinding his back teeth while he thought about you. "May I have a word?"

Cyclone glanced up before pocketing his phone, a look of vague amusement on his face. "Lieutenant. What can I do for you?"

"It's about the upcoming air show. Sir. I was hoping you could tell me if you'd made selections regarding who would be flying in it."

His look of amusement grew. "I have not. I believe that was on my agenda for today or tomorrow." He paused before adding, "I've been meaning to thank you for that glass of bourbon on Saturday night. Woodford Reserve is one of my favorites."

Bradley remained unflinching. Although he had no idea what Admiral Simpson was talking about, he thought it better to simply agree with him. "Yes. The Woodford Reserve." 

He nearly took a step backwards when the other man started laughing. "You'll have to thank your girlfriend for me, too. And I'm assuming the reason you're here is because you want to fly in the air show?"

"Yes...sir," Bradley replied slowly, feeling very off balance now that Cyclone was being so agreeable. 

Still chuckling, he said, "I'll see what I can do," before turning and walking away. 

Once he was out of earshot, Bradley pushed through the door to the rec room as he muttered, "What the fuck was that?"

-----------------------------

It was almost fun for you to pick Noah up from daycare now. Not that you would ever admit that out loud. But the enjoyment you found in the way Casey pouted at you was a bit of a guilty pleasure, and besides, you got to have Noah greet you like you were the most exciting and interesting person in the world.

"Mommy!" he called out as he ran across the lobby and into your arms. "Guess what my craft is!"

"A dinosaur?" you asked as you shot an extremely fake smile at Casey before heading outside.

"Nope."

"A... dog? Did you make Skittles?" you asked as you put him in your car.

"Nope."

"The solar system?"

"Nope."

"Hmm. Will you give me a hint?" you asked, brushing his soft curls away from his forehead and giving him a kiss. But he was already unzipping his bag and pulling out his newest painting. There was a big, light blue shape that looked like it could have been Bradley's Bronco along with a man who appeared to be sporting a mustache. "Is that Daddy?"

"Yes!"

Then you noticed a little brown blob. "Is that Skittles?"

"Yes! She's his best friend!"

You laughed, because Noah wasn't wrong. Skittles seemed to love Bradley the most, and as much as he tried to fight it, the dog won him over. "She is," you agreed before buckling him in. "She's his best friend besides Aunt Natasha."

Noah shook his head. "She doesn't count, because she's an Aunt."

"Right, right," you said, not wanting to fight his childhood logic when Skittles wasn't even a human. "You're completely right. Should we go home?"

You started singing the dinosaur song as you drove, and because of a detour, you had to drive past the park where Meredith had chased you down. A shiver rippled through your body as you remembered falling and scraping up your arm in your haste to get Noah safely in your car. You hated coming home this way. There was a reason you never did it.

"Mommy, why did you stop singing?"

You glanced in the mirror at Noah's face. "Sorry! Where were we? The part about how the dinosaur stomp, stomp, stomps?"

Bradley was already home when you pulled into the driveway, and you found him dozed off on the couch with Skittles curled up on his chest. Two seconds later, he was jolting awake with the dog in his hand as Noah ran for him. "Daddy! I made you! Out of paint!"

"Cool," Bradley told him, pulling Noah onto his broad chest as well. "And how's Mommy?" he asked, his voice a little raspier just for you. "How was your day, Princess?"

You shook off the last remaining thoughts of Casey and Meredith as you leaned down to kiss him. "Pretty good." He chased your lips for more, but his arms were too full of Noah and Skittles for him to be able to reach for you. "Looks like you're still tired from the weekend," you said with a wink.

"I had a nice conversation with Cyclone today." 

"Oh? About what?" you asked as you started to head to the kitchen to make dinner. 

His expression remained completely neutral as he told you, "Bourbon. Woodford Reserve, to be specific." When you said nothing, he added, "We can chat about it later."

So you made spaghetti, knowing you'd been found out. You had been tipsy on Saturday night at the retirement party, but you were pretty sure you remembered what you did. Probably. You hoped Bradley wasn't mad at you over it, but he seemed to be in a good mood as he ate dinner and offered to give Noah a bath while you walked Skittles. 

She was stubborn for you at first, plopping down on the front porch and whimpering for Bradley while you tugged gently on her leash. "Come on. You're making me look bad! You were my idea. Mine and Noah's." When she remained in her spot, you had to reach into your pocket and say, "Treat?" That did the trick, and you got her to take a slow lap around the block with you while you broke a milkbone into little bites and gave it to her. 

When you returned home, Skittles bounded into the house to get to Bradley where he was sitting on the bathroom floor, looking comically enormous with Noah's rubber duck in his hand. You stood in the doorway and watched him automatically reach down to pet the little pup, taking caution with her casted leg while he rinsed the shampoo out of Noah's hair. 

"You want to go to the beach this weekend, Bub?" he asked softly. "With Aunt Natasha?"

"Can Skittles come?" Noah asked, and you watched Bradley place a soft kiss on his wet forehead that left you reeling. Suddenly you couldn't wait for Noah to be in bed so you could have him all to yourself. 

"Maybe. If she gets her cast off on Wednesday," he replied softly as the dog fully plopped down with her head on his thigh. 

"Daddy?" you asked from your spot in the doorway. It was almost a whine, and when he looked up at you, you were certain he knew what you were thinking about by the little smirk on his lips.

He reached into the tub to drain the water as he asked, "Do you need some attention?"

You just nodded, still in your scrubs from work, but you felt too warm now as you pressed your thighs together. "Yes."

"Fifteen minutes, and then you can have it," he replied with an edge to his voice. "Can you wait that long?"

"I can try," you murmured before you turned to go into Noah's room and get his dinosaur pajamas ready. Anything to expedite bedtime. You listened while Bradley took his time reading three stories, and then you kissed Noah's forehead before you tried to pull Bradley toward the hallway.

He chuckled and whispered, "I'll meet you on the couch."

"Oooh, the couch," you said before running from the room. Before you could even decide what you wanted to do, Bradley was behind you wrapping his arms around your waist and tickling your neck with his mustache.

"I kind of miss those nights when I would help you study."

You moaned softly. "Anatomy really is your specialty."

You felt him pull his right hand away from your body, but before you could complain, it reappeared in front of you with a bag of Skittles on his palm. When you spun in his arms and kissed him, you whispered, "You're so sweet."

Bradley lifted you up and took you the few steps to the couch where you settled in straddling his lap while you opened your candy. "If you're this excited about something I picked up at the gas station, I wonder what you'll do if I buy you something a little more expensive."

You met his soft eyes and leaned in to kiss him. "How much more expensive are we talking?" you asked, treating him to the orange Skittle you pulled out of the bag. He parted his lips and you slipped it between them, watching his jaw work as he chewed it up. 

"A lot more expensive," he replied as you ate three candies. "Hey, this is a 50/50 relationship here, Princess."

You shoved a small handful into his mouth and kissed his cheeks as he sputtered and chewed. "I'll share everything I have with you. Too bad I don't have much."

Bradley swallowed down the treat and reached for your free hand. "You give me everything I need. Everything I want, too."

You basked in the warmth of his words as your eyes closed, and a welcome heat crept into your cheeks. "I love you."

"Then I think you'll love what I'm planning on buying for you," he whispered as his mustache grazed your chin and jaw. 

You grinned, hoping you already knew what he was talking about, but too afraid to say it out loud. So you pushed the thought from your mind and scooted a little closer toward him on his lap. "What's this I'm hearing about a beach day? And Skittles getting her cast off? This is all news to me."

He didn't miss a beat as he wrapped his big hands around your hips and said, "What's this I'm hearing about some bourbon at the retirement party? It's all news to me."

"Oh," you whispered softly before eating more Skittles, buying yourself a little time to think. "Well, you see... I wasn't exactly sober."

"You're joking," he deadpanned. 

You rolled your eyes and shoved more candy into his mouth. "I may have had a glass of bourbon sent over to Admiral Simpson, courtesy of Lieutenant Bradshaw and his girlfriend..."

After a few quiet blinks, Bradley's head tipped back in laughter so loud that Skittles the pup came running into the room. "You didn't!" Bradley said. "I have to work with that man!" 

"Somebody had to make the big move, Daddy! It cleared the tension!"

He met your eyes, still shaking his head and smirking. "It also made you look like Daddy's good little girl."

Your heart skipped around in your chest at his words, and you set your candy aside in favor of wrapping your arms around his neck. "Am I not? Daddy's good little girl?"

"Oh, you absolutely are," he replied as he lifted your top inch by inch. "I just never thought my boss's boss would see it that way." 

You raised your hands up in the air, eager to lose your shirt, but he took his sweet time about it. "Daddy."

"You can be patient," he whispered, smiling when he saw your purple bra. "Pretty." Your top dropped to the floor as he cupped you through the lace, finding your nipples right away. "You feel like going to the beach on Saturday?"

Bradley's lips found the tops of your breasts, and you could no longer formulate real words. You just hummed in response already knowing he was going to take expert care of you right now and on Saturday as well.

"You could wear your purple bikini and tell all the other guys to fuck off," he said as he ran his nose softly along your skin while he unhooked your bra and let it fall next to your top. 

"Would you like that?" you asked as your fingers tangled up in his hair. He answered you by nodding as he took your nipple between his lips. Bradley was all big hands on your bare skin and just the perfect amount of roughness. "Oh god," you whined. 

And then he had you on your back in the middle of the area rug with his body over yours. His thigh was rubbing you through your thin pants, and you bucked up gently against him as his heavy weight pressed deliciously against your body. "I love you," he grunted as you tugged at his hair. 

"I love you so much, Daddy," you gasped as he yanked your pants and underwear down and off, leaving you in only your socks. He fumbled with the front of his pants for just a few seconds before pulling his length free, and you spread your legs wide for him.

His lips and tongue were wet on your neck as you held him close, lost in the domesticity of having sex here now. Just like your first time with him. Right next to the snag in the rug. But this time you could hear Skittles' claws tapping across the kitchen floor, and you could see some of Noah's crayons that had rolled under the couch while Bradley fucked you. You could smell the lingering scent of the pasta sauce from the dinner you made. You could taste Bradley's now familiar tongue as it met yours. And you could feel his rough hands on your hips and belly where he'd now touched you hundreds of times. 

You fell in love with the flood of familiarity he brought to your senses, and it left you smiling up at him when he broke the kiss. "Jesus," he grunted, cupping one cheek in his hand. You kissed the side of his thumb as he stroked your skin, and you watched him slowly come undone for you. "I'll get you there," he promised, changing his angle so he rubbed your clit with each movement.

Just like the first time, he filled you up as soon as you came, and your name was all over his lips as you smiled at the lost crayons before closing your eyes. Bradley collected you against his body as he eased himself down onto his side, and you sighed contentedly. You held onto his wrist as he ran his hand along your hair and kissed you. In that moment you would have agreed to anything he said. 

"Baby, I'll be a little late on Wednesday night. I have to take Skittles to get her cast off, and then I need to stop at the store."

You hummed softly in response, pressing your lips to his. "Sounds good."

------------------------------

The only time Bradley heard from you on Wednesday was when you told him that one of your patients came in with an emergency, and you wanted to let him know you'd be helping Dr. Kelly with a minor surgical procedure. He was excited for you, but he didn't want to bother you. Even though he had good news.

"Congrats," Jake drawled in the locker room after a very long day of flying. "Don't know how you managed to pull this one off, but I heard you're flying in the air show."

Bradley ran his towel over his chest before tossing it into his locker. "Thanks," he grunted, trying not to smile. He'd be able to take you on the tour of the hospital with him, and then you and Noah could watch him fly. His son had never seen him in the air before, and it gave Bradley goosebumps knowing that the two of you would be able to do that together. 

Jake gave him one last appraising look before he got dressed. Honestly, it was probably the fact that you upped the ante with Cyclone that Bradley was chosen over the others. Perhaps now things could be called even. You managed to keep everyone on their toes in the best way, and it made him smile even now. 

You were in rare form this week, luring him in for living room floor sex when there was a perfectly new bed in the bedroom. And then last night, you got him to watch a Disney princess movie with you, even after Noah was in bed, and Bradley had begrudgingly enjoyed it. You were laying across his lap on your back when the end credits rolled, and you said, "If you're a good boy, I'll make you beignets just like Princess Tiana."

Bradley had smirked. "Do those have cream filling?"

"No," you whispered as he eased your shirt up so his palm was flat on your belly. 

"Do you want some?" 

He had been thinking about getting you pregnant as he made you bury your face in the couch pillows to keep you quiet.

And that was just one of the many reasons he was about to leave work and head home to grab Skittles before stopping at the jewelry store across town. If Casey managed to bump into there and ruin this surprise as well, he would probably lose his mind. But the jeweler near the animal shelter was one of the best in the city, so that was where he would go. 

Bradley awkwardly held Skittles while he drove, and eventually she curled up with her head on his thigh while he sat in traffic. She seemed to be doing great, so he hoped that was a good sign that the cast could come off. You and Noah were delighted with her, and she somehow made Bradley fall in love, too. 

"Yeah, you're sweet," he told her, scratching her behind the ears while he drove. He parallel parked the Bronco with one hand while he continued to pet her, and when he took her inside the shelter, he held onto her a little tighter. It was hard to believe she'd been here just a few weeks ago, completely unwanted. 

Bradley pressed kisses to the top of her head as he waited for the receptionist to finish her phone call. When she hung up, she asked, "And who do we have here?"

"Skittles Bradshaw," he replied, nuzzling his nose against her fur and wondering how on earth he had gotten so attached to this little pup. "Hopefully she can get her cast off today."

He only had to wait a few minutes, and then he watched as they examined her before cutting into the cast plaster. Once she was free, Skittles took a few tentative steps across the exam table, and then she jumped right back into Bradley's arms. 

After he paid the monstrous bill for such a small creature, he carried her down the sidewalk, enjoying the cooling temperature as the sun set. When he checked his phone, he saw that you'd finally texted him again.

My Princess: Noah and I are going to play at the park near the beach. Leftovers when you get home?

He typed out a quick message letting you know that sounded perfect. Thoughts of you and Noah together filled his mind as he entered the jewelry store, and two women looked up at him and Skittles. "Is it okay if I have her in here?" he asked, but they both immediately rushed over, practically screeching about how cute his dog was. Honestly, the pet would have probably worked out better than the dating app had for him.

"What are you looking for?" the first woman asked as she petted Skittles on her head. 

A soft smile made its way to his lips as he said, "An engagement ring."

"Oh! Of course, let's just head over here to see what you like best. Do you have anything specific in mind?"

Bradley followed behind her as he nodded and said, "A princess cut diamond."

------------------------

A princess for a Princess. Also, there is no way Skittles wouldn't be a magnet for all the ladies. A big man with a small dog... just fuck. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 45

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[woso-dreamzzz]

Breakfast IV

Ellie Carpenter x Daniëlle van de Donk x Child!Reader

Summary: The trip to the Maldives

"You can smile, you know," Mamma says," It won't hurt."

You don't give her the satisfaction, shovelling more food into your mouth.

"Oh? Giving me the silent treatment but now smile? Come on. Smile." Mamma pokes at your cheeks until the corners of your mouth lift up begrudgingly. "There's my beautiful girl. What's got you so grumpy?"

"It's hot," You complain.

Mamma laughs. "Well, maybe you would be less hot if you didn't insist on sleeping with me and Ellie last night."

"Should have kicked Ellie out. You've had me longer," You mutter but Mamma keeps laughing and presses a soft kiss to your hairline. You look behind you. "Is Ellie up yet? I'm bored."

"I thought you were hot."

"Mamma! I can be both!"

"Ellie's still sleeping," Mamma says," How about we head out and grab some ice cream if you're so hot?"

You look at Mamma suspiciously for a moment but then run to get your shoes before she changes her mind.

It's Christmas break and you're in the Maldives with Mamma and Ellie. You don't really like it much. It's too hot and the ocean makes your hair go all weird and Ellie's being extra annoying.

You made your truce in France so you don't really think it applies here.

Ellie's being extra annoying because of the heat, you think, because she threw you in the sea yesterday when you weren't ready all because you ate some of the snacks from Australia she'd brought with her.

You thought that was kind of mean because Ellie's an adult and you're only little and Mamma always says sharing is caring. Ellie should have acted like an adult and not thrown you in the sea.

You're good at swimming though so it didn't matter and you kicked her in the shin when you got back to shore and Mamma didn't even tell you off for it.

You get ice cream with Mamma and immediately beeline to her bedroom as soon as you're back.

"Ew! Why are your fingers sticky?!" Ellie demands as she wakes up.

You shovel more ice cream into your mouth, wiping off your hands against her arm.

"You got ice cream without me? Daan, how could you?!"

You knew she's joking around now and you've sufficiently annoyed her for today so you skip back to the lounge to watch some tv.

You know that Mamma and Ellie are kissing and being gross because you can hear them giggling and you know that's what they do when they kiss because you walked in on them once.

"Mamma! Ellie's being mean again!" You exclaim when they finally come back in and Ellie gives you a noogie on your head.

"Ellie! Leave her alone!"

"Daan! Your pipsqueak is trying to bite me again!"

"Y/N! Be nice!"

You stick your tongue out but keep your teeth to yourself as Ellie laces up her shoes and throws your own at you.

There's something about you that Ellie can admit that she'll never get. You're slightly feral at times. It shouldn't be endearing but it is and Ellie hopes that never changes even as you try to shove her off the boardwalk and into the ocean.

You're pushing with all your miniscule might but Ellie's refusing to budge. In an impressive show of strength, she picks you up and throws you over her shoulder as she walks to the oceanside bar that's nearby.

"If you're going to give me alcohol, Mamma will be mad," You say as she comes back from ordering drinks, having dropped you off at an empty table.

"I'm not giving you alcohol," Ellie says, dipping her hand into her purse a bit nervously.

"Unless it's in ice cream," You reply," Mamma lets me have ice cream that's got champagne in it when we go to the theatre. Can we get ice cream?"

"You've already had ice cream today, pipsqueak," Ellie reminds you, rolling something around her fingers.

"But you wanted ice cream earlier. I won't tell Mamma if you let me have some."

Ellie rolls her eyes fondly at you before suddenly turning serious.

You notice the switch instantly and it's like you immediately put your walls back up. You go stiff and rigid and look at her as suspiciously as the first time she slept around. One of her hands comes up to take yours but you pull away.

"Pipsqueak," She says gently," It's okay."

You shake your head. "Is something bad happening?" You ask, eyes darting around," Ellie, you're being weird. Stop it."

It's clear that you're panicking now but still rooted to your seat. You look like you're going to bolt at any moment and Ellie doesn't know if she has the wherewithal to catch you before you disappear.

It's now or never.

She slides you what she had hidden in one of her hands.

You stop breathing and suddenly it's Ellie's turn to panic now.

"I..." You say, staring down at what is now cradled in your palm," I...I don't understand."

"I want to marry your Mamma," Ellie says to you. She reaches out for you again.

You let her.

"I don't want to be temporary in your or her lives. I really want to marry your Mamma."

You pop open the box to look at the ring.

"And I know we have a truce but I don't think it covers this. So, I need to ask. Are you okay with this? Is this alright with you?"

You're still not looking at her. "But...But why? I'm mean to you all the time. I get you all sticky with ice cream and I know you don't like walking to school with me when we can just drive. Why are you staying?"

"I love your Mamma, pipsqueak," Ellie says," Can I tell you a secret?"

She moves to sit on your side of the table, gently bringing you closer in case any sudden move will startle you.

"I love you too."

Your eyes starting stinging with tears.

"And I promise that I don't actually care if you put your sticky ice cream hands on my skin or make me walk half an hour in the rain when the car journey is basically ten minutes. I want all of that with you and your Mamma but only if you want that too."

You look up at Ellie and clamber onto her lap, curling up so you can press your ear against her chest and listen to the beating of her heart.

When you come back to the villa, Daan knows that you're acting weird. You're a little jumpy and you can't seem to make eye contact.

Ellie's no help, telling her nothing of what you've done to waste almost three hours together. She just shrugs and shepherds you into their room for your usual afternoon nap.

"You know how she is," Ellie says after getting you settled," The heat's getting to her a bit." She offers up no other explanation but that one before heading out again.

Daan's left to stew in her own worries for a few hours before familiar feet draw her attention.

"Did you have a good nap?"

She cranes her head back to look at you, brow furrowing as she does so.

You've changed out of what you were wearing earlier, with your shoes already on and holding hers in your hand.

"Have we got plans?" She teases when you force her into her shoes and drag her out the door.

You don't answer, holding your Mamma's hand tightly. You pull her along the walkway to the beach, weaving through the sparse trees to where Ellie's waiting for you both.

"What are you two troublemakers doing?" Daan asks," Wearing the same clothes now? What have you planned?"

You drop her hand to stand next to Ellie, who leans down to whisper something in your ear. You giggle before going to grab something out of Ellie's bag.

Ellie smiles.

She steps closer.

She gets on one knee.

Daan says yes before she even asks.

You throw confetti into the air.

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

It Was Only A Kiss

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: unprotected sex, hand job (kind of) cockwarming technically, creampie- this is relatively tame

Genre: smut, kinda fluff

Summary: Just another story of a very touch starved man

***

You take a deep breath and knock bravely on the door of your brooding neighbor's apartment. It takes a moment but eventually the door swings open and you're face to face, well more face to chest actually- he's much larger than you were prepared for- with your mysterious across the hall neighbor.

"Can I help you?" He asks flatly.

"Hi. You're Logan, right?" You ask and his eyes narrow at the question.

"Who the hell are you?"

"I'm y/n, I live- well above you actually." You point up towards your apartment.

"You live above me?" He quirks an eyebrow up.

"Correct." You nod.

"And how do you know my name?" He's still regarding you with a level of suspicion.

"We live in the same building I make a point to know as many of my neighbors as I can if there's an emergency and the cops show up asking me about the man that lives below me I wanna be able to at least say who the man that lives directly below me actually is."

"Cut the shit. I didn't tell you my name. So who did?" He asks. You glance down and watch his fist clench.

"Cool it hothead. I help out in the lobby sometimes, you learn a lot that way."

"So you're spying on me?" He glares.

"Are you always so paranoid?" You frown.

"Excuse me?"

"It's a simple question, I told you I help with stuff at the front sometimes you think I'm spying on you? That's a rather extreme assumption, can you reach those heights all on your own or do use a trampoline to help you jump to such wild conclusions?"

"You showed up at my door for reasons you still have not explained I have every right to be skeptical."

"A package of yours ended up at my door. I thought I'd bring it down for you but hey if you think I'm spying on you never mind I'll just keep it. Hope you got something fun in there!" You say, tapping the package tucked comfortably under your arm.

"Give me that!" Logan swipes at the box but you twist the box just out of reach.

"You have terrible manners, the least you could do is acknowledge you jumped the gun here."

"You know it's illegal to steal someone's mail." Logan crosses his arms.

"I'm not asking you to grovel just a simple 'my bad, thank you' would be sufficient. Plus I didn't steal this it was delievered to MY apartment."

"You're being pedantic." He rolls his eyes.

"And you're being difficult. You want your package? Try a little hospitality."

"You're a stranger unannounced at my door. I'm not hosting you."

"Now you're being pedantic. And a hypocrite." You shake your head. Logan tips his head back and sighs in exasperation. You have to restrain from smiling as you realize you've definitely wore him down.

"It is more than reasonable to be skeptical of a stranger knocking on your door with information you didn't tell them but your motives were altruistic, I misjudged. Thanks for bringing my package. Can I have it now?" Logan forces out. You flash him a smile and hand the package over.

"See how simple that was? Although I should come clean it wasn't purely altruistic. The package gave me the perfect excuse but I've been dying to meet the brooding mystery man in apartment 632. Thank you mistaken delivery driver."

"Yeah we're done here." Logan says closing the door.

"I'll see you around Logan!" You call just before it's shut.

"What an odd woman." You hear through the cheap wood and you giggle as you return to your apartment. He's rugged looking, imposing, no wonder he's such a mystery to your neighbors. You're sure he scares them shitless. He'd probably scare you too under different circumstances.

"You did what?!" Henry blinks at you as you recount your interaction with Logan.

"Why are you looking at me like that? I had to get the guy his package." You say.

"You're insane, you know that?"

"Why? He's just some guy. He's- very attractive but he's just some guy." You shrug.

"Quick question darling do you- understand the concept of fear? Do you have any sort of survival instincts that tell you not to poke sleeping bears?"

"Nobody died." You scoff.

"I cannot believe you forced this man to apologize to you for being rude when he opened the door to a stranger!" Henry shakes his head.

"Well somebody ought to teach him some manners. His mom would be very disappointed in his habits." You shake your head.

"What does he sound like?" He rests his head on his hand.

"Oh now it's fine that I 'poked the sleeping bear'? I thought I was insane."

"You are but since you did it already might as well learn something from it. Now answer me what's he sound like?" Henry gently shakes you with his free hand. It seems he hasn't noticed the subject of your conversation walking up to the front door.

"Let's see if you get to hear it yourself." You say with a smile.

"What?" Henry follows your line of sight just as Logan pulls open the door to the lobby.

"Hi Logan!" You call out. He looks at you and rolls his eyes. "Don't be rude or next time I get one of your packages by mistake I'm just going to keep it!" You warn.

"Is this going to become a regular thing?" He asks gruffly as he waits for the elevator.

"You lose absolutely nothing by being kind to your neighbors."

"I gain absolutely nothing as well."

"There's no need to be such a grump Logan." You shake your head.

"There's no need to be such a nuisance Y/n."

"You remember my name." You smile.

"Goodbye." Logan huffs out stepping into the now open elevator.

"Now you know what he sounds like." You tell Henry.

"You are unbelievable."

"Yeah sure we've covered that already, moving on now, how can you hear that voice and not do everything to keep him talking?" You sigh.

"He sounds like he'd eat you." Henry says.

"Oh I wouldn't protest that."

"Not in the fun way you psycho I mean like he'd murder you." He shakes his head.

"Well that I'd have to argue against."

"I sure fucking HOPE you would!"

"God that man is fine, the things I would do to him."

"I've lost you haven't I?" Henry's exasperation with you is obvious in his tone.

"No! Of course not! Okay maybe a little bit but in my defense you're the one that brought up him eating me." You toss your hands up.

"I meant he sounds dangerous, like he'd kill somebody you're just unwell!"

"Two things can be true! He can be hot and dangerous- shout out to Kesha- people watch all kinds of movies and shows about criminals and villains!"

"Look just don't push your luck too far okay? Some people shouldn't be messed with and I would guess he falls into that category."

"Oh please we get along great!"

"I don't even know what to do with you at this point." Henry says, concerned confusion colors his expression, making you laugh a bit. Honestly you think he's freaked out over nothing. Logan's no more dangerous than any other man you don't know that well living in this building. You're not going to put yourself in harm's way but he's fun to sort of wind up.

You sing along to your speaker as you drag your couch across your apartment, in all the commotion you barely hear the fevered knocking at your door and almost trip over your table trying to answer it once you realize someone's here.

"Logan? What're you doing here?" You blink at him in surprise when you find Logan in your hallway.

"What the hell are you doing in there?" He asks.

"Moving around some furniture. Why?" You frown.

"Well stop it. Or get people to help you carry things because the sound of you dragging shit around is unbearable." He grits out.

"Are you going to help?"

"Excuse you?"

"My apartment is a wreck right now and I can't exactly just stop and wait for someone to be able to help me finish this up so unless you plan on helping me you'll have to suck it up and wait for me to be done." You say. He stares at you for a moment, his jaw tightening a moment before he lets out a harsh breath through his nose.

"Fine. What needs moving?" He grits out.

"You'll help?" You blink at him, you didn't expect him to offer that. You expected him to stomp off back to his place to brood or whatever he spends his time doing down there.

"At the very least it'll be quicker if I help."

"Alright, well, I need the couch against that wall first." You say. Logan walks over to your couch and before you can help him, he lifts the couch and moves it to where you asked him to.

"What next?" He turns to you, barely acknowledging the baffled look on your face.

"Uh the coffee table, needs to be put in front of the couch." You point, watching in awe as again Logan lifts the table like it's a down pillow and lowers it where you directed.

"What else?"

"Can you move the bookcase? I need it next to the television. I can take everything out of it first so it's-" he doesn't give you a chance to finish the sentence, he moves the entirely full bookcase from one side of your living room to the other with ease. You spend a little while longer dictating for Logan what needs to be moved where and no matter how many times he does it you're astounded by his displays of strength. It's like every piece of furniture in here weighs less than the average toddler to him, he's barely breaking a sweat by the time you've run out of tasks to watch him do because he truly doesn't need your help with any of it.

"Everything's where you want it to be?" He asks.

"Yes."

"So I won't hear any more insufferable scraping of furniture against the floor then?"

"You won't. Thank you for helping. I'll make you lunch." You suggest.

"Don't bother." He rolls his eyes.

"No no no all that work you just did for me I have to at least feed you."

"You don't." He shakes his head.

"Logan you moved like 20 pieces of furniture by yourself, let me pay you back." You insist.

"You pay me back by not scraping things against your floor slash my ceiling."

"Sit. Eat. Then you can leave." You say, wrapping a hand around his wrist to drag him into your kitchen to sit on a barstool at the counter.

"This isn't necessary y/n, really."

"Yes yes you've made that clear. I'm doing it anyway, so stop protesting. Do you have any allergies?" You look at him over your shoulder as you pull things out of your fridge.

"No." He scoffs as if it's a crazy thing to even ask, you won't bother asking why. It's a good thing you have no sense of portion control and always end up making more than one portion of anything you cook anyway. Logan doesn't say anything while you fix lunch and you're not sure how to break the silence so you don't. You cook, and hum, and let Logan sit and watch or daydream or whatever brooders do when they're not interacting with the world. Lunch takes just over 20 minutes and soon enough you're placing a plate in front of Logan.

"What is it?" He asks.

"It's a bufflo chicken sandwhich wrap thing."

"Sandwhich wrap thing?" He quirks an eyebrow up at you.

"Oh just eat it." You roll your eyes taking a bite of yours. Logan looks as if he's going to retort but seems to decide against it as he picks up the wrap and takes a bite. You watch intently as he processes the food, his eyes widen at some point while he's chewing.

"Oh wow this is good." He says eventually.

"Thank you." You smile at him as you take a seat next to him at your island counter. You and Logan eat pretty much in silence and it isn't until you drop the plates in the sink that he speaks again.

"You're a very odd woman you know." Logan says.

"So I've heard. My downstairs neighbor is very vocal about how strange he thinks I am." You wink at him.

"He might be onto something."

"Maybe. But I must be doing something correct because he still talks to me." You lean against the counter beside him.

"How much of choice does he have in that really?" He scoffs.

"Well you came up to mine today so- you tell me." You say softly, moving closer to him.

"I came up here because you were being disruptive." Logan says lowly.

"So you said." You hum. You're not quite sure who closed the gap between you but the next thing you know, your lips are pressed against his and his hands are around your waist pulling you towards him. You hands settle on his shoulders as his kiss practically devours you. You hear the sound of metal against metal that you're fully prepared to ignore but it seems to snap Logan out of things as he practically leaps away from you.

"I- I have to go." Logan says abruptly. You notice him clenching and unclenching his fists as he looks at his hands.

"Hang on a second what- what just happened?"

"Doesn't matter it won't happen again." He says before leaving your apartment.

"Logan!" You call but you're sure he's already at the elevator at this point. "And he calls me the odd one." You sigh. Part of you wants to go after him but why should you? He's probably not going to answer you if you go down to his place now anyway. You'll let him cool down from whatever that was and deal with it later.

A few weeks go by without incident. If you didn't know any better you'd think Logan was intentionally avoiding you, but he hardly leaves his place anyway so it's not like anything has really changed. However today one of his packages has ended up at your door again. Weird. You wonder briefly if Henry has anything to do with this but it's not really his style. Regardless of how it got there, you have to take it down to him now. So you get in the elevator and go one floor down to Logan's apartment knocking on the door firmly. You hear some shuffling on the other side and eventually Logan pulls the door open.

"What are you doing here?" He asks.

"Are you okay?" You tilt your head. He looks a little flustered for some reason.

"Don't answer my question with another question."

"Technically, I'm not answering your question I'm just asking a separate one you look flustered and I wanna know if you're okay."

"I'm fine, y/n. Why are you here?" He says sharply.

"Don't be a dick."

"Excuse me?" He blinks at you.

"I got a package adressed to you again and I'm being nice by bringing it down to you. Look I didn't realize you'd be so up in arms over a kiss, sorry it bugged you so much, but you don't just get to be an asshole whenever you see me."

"I'm not-"

"Whatever your problem is, why ever you ran out of my partment like I burned you, I didn't kiss myself so don't take it out on me like it's all my fault."

"I didn't say it was your fault."

"Here. I'll try not to get any more of your mail." You shove the package into his chest and he scrambles to get it before it drops.

"Y/n hang on-" Logan grabs your wrist before you can even turn to leave.

"I'd rather not do this I just wanted to bring your... thing."

"No I owe you an explanation. Come inside, please." He says.

"Fine." You say entering Logan's apartment. It's pretty minimalist. All the basic furniture you'd expect in a living room plus a bookcase that's about half full of stuff and a trunk in one corner. Logan tosses the package onto the trunk and clenches his fists. You gasp and jump back as metal claws protrude from Logan's knuckles. "You have knives coming out of your knuckles."

"Kind of."

"Why are you showing me them?" You frown.

"This is why I ran out like you burned me, as you put it."

"I need more information."

"These are- obviously dangerous and I usually have incredible control but- while we were in your apartment that day I- they came out without me doing it. It's been a long time since I couldn't control them but something about you- it's risky." He says, brows furrowed.

"We kissed and your claws popped out like an erection?"

"Don't phrase it like that."

"I'm just trying to understand. Are you implying that kissing makes you like lose control of yourself?"

"No. Maybe. It's hard to know I-" you cut Logan off by kissing him. Easiest way to confirm the theory is to test it. His hands are on your waist right away and moments later the sound of metal sliding against metal grabs your attention.

"Well- I'd say that answers that." You say.

"You can't do that." He says.

"You didn't stop me." You shrug.

"I could hurt you, you know. I can't- there's no-"

"You could sure but I don't think that you will." You say.

"You shouldn't have such faith in me." Logan shakes his head.

"Why not?"

"I am... in pain trying to keep it together here."

"Don't bother." You say kissing him again. His hands on your hips tighten, and he's doing what he did last time, kissing you so ferociously you feel as if he's going to consume you whole. Eventually, he pulls away with a groan.

"You need to go. Please." He grits out.

"You'll have to let me go first." You say, he's still holding your waist rather tightly.

"I know that." Logan says but he makes no move to do so.

"Logan, stop trying to be such a gentleman. I'm not a china doll, you won't break me." You say pushing him onto his couch and straddling him.

"Wait y/n-"

"If you tell me one more time that you're going to hurt me so we can't keep making out I'm going to throw a fit." You roll your eyes.

"No it's not that I- this is much more embarrassing than that." He mutters.

"Embarrassing?"

"I'm too... high strung, if this continues I- I'll end up looking like an inexperienced teenager."

"Don't worry I know you're not an inexperienced teenager." You hum kissing his neck.

"Y/n-"

"Logan." You drawl. Logan closes his eyes and blows out a heavy breath that makes you giggle.

"You're trying to kill me, I'm sure." He says.

"Not at all. Necrophilla isn't my thing." You shrug and Logan chuckles. Finally a break in his unnecessarily serious disposition.

"You're impossible."

"Well yes, you've said that before I'm pretty sure. Look if you really want this to stop Logan I'll leave." You make a move to get off of his lap and Logan's hand on your hip stops you.

"Don't."

"Still concerned about your... percieved overexcitement?"

"Just kiss me." He rolls his eyes using his other hand to pull you in for another kiss. You let your hands trail down his body slipping under his shirt to feel the hard muscle underneath. Clothing comes off hastily as you switch between kissing his lips and covering his throat in hickeys. Logan's hands are roaming wildly across your body, gripping here and grabbing there, his mouth exploring your skin with the same fierceness, nipping and sucking anywhere he can get. When your hand slips between your bodies and grabs his dick the sound he makes is pornographic and damn if you don't want to hear him make it again. Logan is all groans and harsh breaths as you move your hand against him. He doesn't let you get away with it for long, his hand quickly grabs your wrist.

"You sure you're not tryna kill me?"

"I told you I'm not into fucking dead people." You wink at him. "You can die when I'm done with you if you're that determined to do so."

"Well that's not the worst way to go." Logan chuckles.

"No but there's a lot more I could do if you stayed alive." You whisper, lining him up with your entrance and slowly sinking down onto him. You'd guessed he'd be big but your fantasies definitely were not doing him justice. His moan as you settle fully onto him is deep and long and makes you clench around him. Using his shoulders to brace yourself, you set a steady pace riding him. He's thick and you relish in the way he stretches you.

"Fuck you're so wet." He groans, head tipping back against the back of the couch. His hands are on your sides but his hold is loose, either to allow you control or because he's busy trying not to embarrass himself. You keep your rhythm, nails scraping against his skin as you chase your orgasm. Suddenly, Logan's grip tightens, tight enough that you feel there may be bruising tomorrow, like a beast suddenly woken from sleep he growls low in his throat as he takes over the situation. Without warning, he's fucking up into you furiously and all you can do is moan as you claw at his arms and chest. Logan's release hits him first but he doesn't stop, not until you're spasming around him.

"That was not the performance of an inexperienced teenager you know." You say after you've caught your breath.

"Oh shut up." He scoffs.

"I'm just saying." You shrug.

"You're insane."

"Ooo new adjective."

"That's all you got from that?" He asks. You sit up and smile at him.

"You can call me abnormal in whatever way you'd like you're still into me so it makes no difference to me." You say.

"Try not to move too much." He groans when you shift in his lap.

"Sorry, am I hurting you?" You ask.

"Quite the opposite, but I wanna give you time to recover from-"

"You're still treating me like a china doll." You poke his chest.

"You implying you're good to go again?"

"Refractory periods are way longer for men than women you know."

"I don't really have one so I try to remember other people do."

"I bet I could tire you out first."

"That's a bet you're definitely gonna lose." He scoffs.

"Care to prove it?" You ask. Logan smirks at you.

"I hope you've got nothing planned for the next few days." He says as he carries you to his bedroom. "First things first I'm dying to find out if you taste as good as you smell." The promise of a thoroughly pleasurable experience is clear in his eye and you're only too thrilled to find out what he can really do.

***

[foodiegoogie]

what friends are for

sirius black x fem!reader ✮ 3.95k summary: you’re an overthinker at its finest; sirius is an overdoer when it comes to saving you from you and your thoughts. cw/tags: no use of y/n, highschool!au, biker!sirius (mentioned), too long for its own good,, nothing too heavy <3 also the teachers r still called professors here bcoz yes !

note: DAMN FINALLY ive finished this 😭 tho its still a little too long for my taste .. i am kinda proud of this :> this was a recycled thoma request, but since i kind of serve to the marauders audience now,, i decided to give it to sirius 🥰 happy reading! 🫶🏼

Having an overly active brain was both a blessing, and a curse. You loved your creativity and intelligence, and they definitely showed in your report cards. What you didn't like was how often you thought about simple, small matters, and then thought about it some more, and then some more after that. You were an overthinker at its finest. Everyone who knew you well enough would agree that you were a non-stop thinking machine, and they all hoped you would cut yourself some slack and give yourself a break.

“That’s easier said than done,” you’d say to them. Oh, what you wouldn't give to stop being a self-sufficient, but also self-pitying brainiac! 

But, as they all say, old habits die hard. That is why here you are, in class, watching your teacher collect your test papers and slowly getting into the routine of asking yourself the questions—the what-ifs, did-Is, and the like. 

You were bouncing your leg up and down restlessly while chewing on your bottom lip, looking very deep in thought, when you felt something hit your head lightly. A crumpled ball of paper landed in your point of view, breaking you out of the trance from overthinking. Picking it up, you opened it and smoothed it out to see what was written inside. 

You look like you just murdered someone and are now burdened by your guilty conscience.

Despite your sour mood, you managed to let out a snort and a soft smile after reading the line. You could recognize the flawlessly cursive handwriting anywhere; it belonged to your good friend, Sirius Black. And knowing him, you knew better than to come up with a snarky reply and retaliate. Getting caught chit chatting with someone like him during class hours could land you in detention, especially now that the teacher inside your classroom was the one and only Physics Terror, Professor McGonagall.

So, you crumple the piece of paper back into its ball shape, and stuff it into your backpack. A few seconds later, you feel something hit your head again. The culprit? Yet another crumpled ball of paper, now sitting on your desk. Letting curiosity get the best of you, you open it up and read what's written.

Ok, rude? Guess you can forget about getting my help cuz I know a good place to bury a body :)

Softly chuckling to yourself, you shook your head and wondered why you were even friends with someone as bizarre as Sirius while you put the crumpled paper in your bag. For a while, you didn’t feel anything light hit your head like you expected. But just as you were about to spiral into another endless stream of self-doubt, you were hit again with a crumpled ball of paper. 

Slowly, you turned around in your seat to glare at Sirius. You meet his eyes doing the same thing, and then gesturing impatiently at you to open the piece of paper he just threw at you. You stuck your tongue out at him out of spite before finally opening the piece of paper.

Y R U NOT TAKING ME SERIOUSLY?!

The sentence was written in bold black letters, underlined a bunch of times, and the punctuation marks at the end were twice the size of the letters. Having read the ridiculous note, you let out what might have been the loudest cackle you have ever let out in your highschool life.

You hear your name called out loudly by Professor McGonagall, in a stern tone that could only mean one thing for you. It felt absolutely mortifying to have your classmates' eyes on you, seeing their pity and amusement appear on their faces. 

"You'll be seeing Mr. Filch for detention after class," She said, zeroing in on you with her piercing glare. If looks could kill, you'd have been dead in your seat by now, and Sirius could use his knowledge of good places to bury dead bodies so he could bury yours. "I hope you'll learn your lesson in your time with him." 

"I will, Professor," You replied, the embarrassment reflecting in your voice.  Great—not only were you unsure about your grade for this class, but now you had one more thing to be worried about, as well as overthink about.

Unable to take on your classmates’ pitying looks on you, you crossed your arms on your desk and laid your head down against them, hiding your face from the prying eyes of your classmates. You could not handle any more humiliations. But you also thought that nothing could possibly be worse than the situation you put yourself in.

Then, you were proven wrong.

All of a sudden, you heard your classmates murmuring around you. Lifting your head up to see what was going on, you saw a paper plane glide smoothly through the air before it landed perfectly on the stack of test papers Professor McGonagall was currently grading. 

To some of your classmates, what happened afterward took less than a minute. But to the rest, including yourself, it seemed like eternity with how carefully Professor McGonagall dropped her pen, and took off her glasses. She picked up the paper plane and opened it up, narrowing her eyes at whatever was written inside. Unfortunately, none of you ever knew what was written inside. But you all knew that it wasn't any good, judging by the twitch in her eye and the frown on her face.

"Who does this belong to?" She asked, her displeasure clearly heard in her voice and seen in the glare she gives everyone in the room. A beat passes, and suddenly everyone is pointing fingers to someone sitting at the back of the classroom. 

Though you had a hunch on who it was they were pointing at, you hoped that you were wrong; that it turned out to be some other classmate of yours who had rotten luck just like you. Then, you were proven wrong… again.

You turned around in your seat just in time to meet the mischievous eyes of your raven-haired friend. He even took the time to throw you a playful wink before clearing his throat dramatically. 

"Good morning, Professor,” Sirius began, his hand closed in a fist like it was holding something near his mouth. “This is your captain speaking. It seems like my aeroplane experienced turbulence and crashed in your area. Terribly sorry, rookie mistake! Rest assured that I'll comply with whatever punishment you subject me to for the matter." 

"In that case, good, because you'll be serving detention alongside your classmate here," Professor McGonagall nods in your direction. "I hope you'll both learn something about rudely disrupting the peace and quiet during class hours with unnecessary distractions." She smiled, although anyone could tell it wasn't to be kind. Then, she returned to her previously interrupted task of grading test papers.

Rolling your eyes, you sighed. Of course, he'd get himself into trouble, you thought. You turned to look at him, catching his attention, and mouthed the words, "What'd you do that for?"

Sirius shrugged in reply, a cheeky smile on his face before mouthing the word, "You."

—

Genuinely, you have always wondered how you managed to land yourself a place in Sirius’ life as one of his closest friends. It was one of the things you’ve thought about over and over, but have never really gotten to the bottom of. Nevertheless, you will always be grateful for having a friend like him, even if he does give you a headache sometimes.

It turns out that serving detention wasn’t as bad as you expected it to be, having been assigned under Mr. Filch’s orders of tending to the flora and fauna stored in the school greenhouses. In fact, you were actually kind of enjoying it, and Sirius being with you totally wasn’t a part of the reason why. 

“You know, this actually isn’t so bad,” He remarked, spraying the lavenders with some water, a faint smile on his face. “I thought we’d be somewhere organizing Sprout’s herb collection or something.”

You laugh at his statement, “Not gonna lie, I expected something boring, too. But this is pretty nice.” You beamed at him, looking away from where you’d been adjusting potted plants accordingly where the sunlight was hitting. 

“Who knew we’d be so good at gardening?” 

“I know, right?” 

Sirius chuckled in reply, and you joined in with him, taking the time to look at him before returning to your task. He looked especially handsome whenever he laughed; eyes crinkled by the edges with amusement, his pearly whites on perfect display as he smiled. It also certainly didn’t help that on top of the black leather jacket he wore, he was wearing an apron, and a bandana tied around his hair which pushed it back to act as a headband, revealing his forehead which glistened with a thin layer of sweat. 

Sirius Black looked ridiculously handsome, and you didn’t need to think twice about that, because it was a well-known fact.

At that moment, you were so caught up in staring at him that Sirius caught you in action. It was already too late to look away and feign indifference for you as a smirk had started to make its way onto his face.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” He practically purred, his voice taking on a deeper, more flirtatious tone than usual. Your brain loses its ability to function momentarily before you quickly wracked your mind for a snarky retort. 

“How original,” You quipped, trying to hide your momentary lapse in brain function at his unexpected tone. Sirius lets you get away with it, hiding a subtle smile of amusement to himself. 

Turning back to a pot of chrysanthemums you’d neglected briefly, you decide to change the topic. “So I was just wondering,” You began, a curious lilt to your voice. “What’d you write on that paper plane you flew to Professor McGonagall?” You queried as you turned to face him again, placing your hand on your hip.

“Oh, psh, that old thing?” Sirius waved it off dismissively as he wrapped up with his task of watering the flowers. “Just a little piece of an opinion I’ve been meaning to tell her.” 

“And just what was it you were meaning to tell her?” 

Before he answered your question, he took the time to take his bandana off, wiping the sweat off his forehead with it. Then, he fixed his hair - running a hand through it and ruffling it up slightly. Inwardly, you had to admit, you almost forgot what you were talking about as you shamelessly watched him be… hot; and like he knew the effect it had on you—which he most likely did—he smirked at you. Again. 

“I told her that dogs were better than cats,” Sirius smiled wickedly. 

You gasped in horror. “No, you did not.” 

“Oh, yes I did,” He said as-a-matter-of-factly.

“You know how she feels about cats, Sirius!” 

“Precisely the point, darling.”

To some, it would seem like something off of a controversial debate, like if pineapples belong on pizza for example. But to everyone who really knew Professor McGonagall well, saying things like that was just a recipe for disaster—with disaster meaning serving detention, of course.

“No wonder you ended up here,” You shook your head in disbelief at him. 

“Buuut, like I said, it’s not so bad here,” Sirius opposed, untying his apron from the back and behind his neck. “Plus, I’ve got good company.” He winked at you before hanging the apron on one of the hooks attached to the wall of the greenhouse.

You didn’t— no, couldn’t reply to him, seeing how you were caught off guard with what he said. But it wasn’t like Sirius wasn’t good company for you, no. There was never a dull moment with him by your side. In fact, if it were someone else you were stuck with in detention, you wouldn’t have agreed with him earlier that serving it wasn’t so bad. And frankly speaking, if serving detention just meant extra time to hang out with Sirius Black, then you wouldn’t mind disrupting the peace and quiet of class hours every now and then.

Though that would certainly look bad on your report cards, so you mentally chastise yourself for even entertaining the thought. But you couldn’t deny that there was some truth behind it, at least. Or more than some.

“Let me walk you home?” Sirius asked as he regarded you with a certain gentleness in his grey eyes. You felt like melting on the spot, right then and there, as he lingered by the doorway to the greenhouse, waiting for your answer. 

But you managed to pull yourself together, and smiled at him. “Sure.”

—

On some days, you would have just taken the school bus home, and Sirius would have just gone on his motorbike. Though in the past, he’d asked you countless times if he could give you a ride home, of course, because it was quicker and more cost-efficient than taking the public transport. But with the way your face blanched at his offering, and the way you kept spewing facts upon facts about how motorbike riding was dangerous (Sirius tried to reassure you that it wasn’t for very obvious reasons), he settled for walking you home instead. 

While that had quickly become an almost regular occurrence for the both of you, Sirius always made sure to ask you first, despite the fact that he would have to go back for his motorbike parked at the school after. Knowing this, you tried very hard to kindly refuse him at first. But over time, you found yourself saying yes without a second thought.

At the same time, you refrain yourself from giving it much thought. It was simply a kind gesture from a really good friend of yours, and that was that. 

A devilishly handsome, fiercely loyal, and incredibly caring… friend of yours. 

Walking home with Sirius never fails to make you feel better after a long day at school. The both of you are instantly engaged in meaningful conversation, debriefing the events that occurred during the day. You like to think it’s a mandatory routine by how often you do it, how often it happens, and how natural it feels. It’s definitely one of, or maybe the best way to de-stress and relax after spending a whole day just studying and working. 

If only he could keep the teasing to a minimum, though. 

“I’m just saying, you know,” Sirius said, shrugging nonchalantly as he walked beside you. “You didn’t have to laugh that hard.” 

You scoff in disbelief, the sarcastic reply bubbling up in your throat. “Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you liked it whenever I laugh at your jokes?” 

“Never said I didn’t, love,” He responded, voice softening at the term of endearment used. “But you could’ve been saved from Minnie’s wrath if you hadn’t done that evil cackle of yours that you call a ‘laugh.’” Sirius chuckled slightly as he spoke, reminding you both of your embarrassment. 

“Okay, first of all, rude,” You shot him a half-hearted glare, a smile threatening to come alive on your lips. “And second of all, it’s your fault that I accidentally laughed out loud during class.”

Sirius scoffed immediately, taking full offense as he turned away from you. “‘Accidentally,’ she says.” 

“What? It’s true!” 

“So I suspect you must have ‘accidentally’ found me funny, too?” He air-quoted. 

You let out a sigh, feeling exasperated and slightly frustrated by his consistently witty replies. It seemed like Sirius never ran out of energy when it came to your banter, filled with incessant teasing (coming from Sirius himself most of the time, of course) and lighthearted jabs at each other. But even with your patience increasingly wearing thin with him, you found yourself looking forward to the banter every time. In spite of his knack for getting on your nerves more often than not, you liked sharing it with him. It was almost as if it was something only you and Sirius shared - intimate and unique to your dynamic.

“Whatever, Sirius,” You settled for a dismissive response eventually, rolling your eyes as you did so. Though you knew that he would take the piss out of you again for your lack of a snarky retort.

But to your surprise, the boy only chuckled in amusement, kicking a few pebbles and leaves out of the way as the two of you continued to walk. You didn’t think much of it, passing it off as a likely thing for people to do when they walk on sidewalks riddled with objects in the way. 

(But little did you know about Sirius’ true intentions, though.)

After a moment of comfortable silence, you decided to speak up again. 

“Hey, so I was wondering—”

Sirius interrupts with a snort of laughter. “When are you not?” “Please shut up and let me finish.” “Alright, alright. I’m sorry,” he said. Though with the ever so present smirk on his face, and the hint of mirth in his eyes, you couldn’t tell if he was truly sorry. “What were you wondering about in that pretty head of yours?” You paused for a moment, thinking of how to phrase your question. Sirius gave you a brief glance, curious about what you were thinking of that had you pondering like this.

“Why’d you do it?” You finally blurted out.

“What do you mean? You’re gonna have to be a bit more specific than that for me, love.”

Sirius earns the sweet sound of your chuckling, and he zeroes in on the slight flush that appeared on your cheeks, betraying your embarrassment.

“I’m talking about earlier, Sirius. During Physics? When you flew that paper plane to McGonagall?”

His lips formed an O shape as he came to the realization of what you were referring to. And as if the reminder was nothing but a lighthearted one, Sirius snickered to himself.

“And? What about that?” 

You sigh, internally wondering how on earth he could find such a thing so amusing. Sure, perhaps Professor McGonagall had developed some sort of fondness or a soft spot for Sirius over the years he’d acted against her in his mischief. But the fact still remained that McGonagall was not to be taken lightly to, especially not during her class. 

“I was just wondering why you would do such a thing. I mean.. it was certainly unprovoked, don’t you think?” 

“‘Unprovoked,’ you say? Is that what you really think?” 

There’s a shift in his tone this time around when he spoke, though there still remained the unmistakable, and ever so present hint of a tease in his voice. You studied his face intently as you thought of a response. 

“Yeah. I mean, whatever did you do that for?” 

Sirius sighed, though you couldn’t tell if it was out of frustration with you or exasperation. “Didn’t I tell you already? I did it for you, you daft woman.” 

You resist the urge to scoff at his remark of you being a supposed daft woman. “I thought you were just messing with me there when you said that.”

“‘Messing with you?’ Why would I—“ He cut himself off with another sigh. 

Oh, so he’s frustrated, you realized. 

“You know, for someone whose mind runs a thousand miles per hour, you can be really clueless sometimes.” 

You let yourself scoff by then, feeling indignant. “What are you on about now?” 

Sirius almost smirked at your words, and you knew that by the twitch at the corner of his lips. You tear your eyes away from them, focusing on his eyes instead. 

“Come on, you’re a smart girl. Surely, you know why I did that, and why I risked detention?”

Deep down, you had an inkling as to what he was telling you. But you refused to acknowledge it aside from the fact that it was downright ridiculous. After all, you firmly believed yourself to be out of Sirius Black’s league. Your dynamic was synonymous to one of those Paramore songs that went, “He was a punk, she did ballet. Can I make it anymore obvious?” 

And as if he could read you, and sense your inner thoughts, Sirius sighed for what seemed like the nth time of that moment. Though now it had sounded almost… sad? 

“Shall I spell it aloud for you, then?” He broke the silence, his voice deeper and tinged with seriousness. 

“Yes.” Please. For my own sake. 

He takes a deep breath first, although the both of you didn’t know for what exactly. But it felt like it was necessary for Sirius, and so—

“I did it for you, ‘cause,” He paused, seemingly trying to push the words out of his mouth. Why he was forcing them out, you didn’t know. “What friends are for, right?” 

Well, admittedly, that kind of stung you inside. For a moment—a fleeting, hopeful moment—you wanted Sirius to say that he did it for you, and that was that. Just for you. For the sake of keeping you company, and letting it be up for interpretation on whether it was done under platonic intentions or… not. 

“Yeah,” You nodded, mentally chastising yourself for ever expecting such a thing. “What friends are for.” 

Sirius is looking at you pensively, noticing a hint of your disappointment in the way your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes, and in the way you looked away from him as you replied. He wondered why.

But, ever the one to cheer his friends up, Sirius clears his throat to catch your attention, his grey eyes glittering with mirth. 

“And besides,” he added. “You would’ve gone mad if you served detention all alone. You’re kind of a danger to yourself here, love.” He ruffled your hair playfully as he said this, eliciting a smile from you. 

“Hey! It doesn’t get that bad, you know,” You defend yourself, fixing your hair with your fingers. Sirius helps you out by tucking the wayward strands of hair, covering your face, behind your ear. 

He snickered. “Trust me, love. I know how bad it can get.” 

In truth, Sirius has always found it endearing—your knack for getting a little lost in your head more often than not. But he was also one of those people who wanted to grab you by the shoulders and shake some sense into you, to tell you to give yourself a damn break. So, he’ll take any chance to distract you from your thoughts. And if that meant angering McGonagall and serving detention, he didn’t mind at all. 

The rest of your walk home goes easily after that, the lighthearted atmosphere returning despite the momentary shift to the slightest, almost imperceptible indication to the feelings you harbored for each other—though unacknowledged on both sides of the party in fear of losing the other.

Although, Sirius suspects that he’ll be brave enough for the both of you one day to bring these feelings into light. 

In the meantime, he’ll let you get away with your acting aloof and coy about it. He’ll gladly wait until you’re ready to hear what he’s always wanted to tell you. 

So, as the two of you bask in the orange hue of the afternoon sun, walking down the path to your home, you don’t realize that it’s only a few steps away until you’ve reached your destination. You were getting carried away (again) with ranting about tomorrow’s quizzes, and Sirius is trying (again) to calm your anxieties, and reassure you. 

At the very same time, he realizes the increasing distance between the two of you and your home. He doesn’t make a move to tell you, and you simply don’t notice.

( ♡ )

[headingalaxys-spicy]

Can I ask for a country!reader with aph america, china and russia who used to depend on them for survival in the past because they were very poor, but now they are successful and distancing themselves? Thanks

I uh got lost on this one and it’s a long Drabble where I think I hit the mark but didn’t .

This one is kind of a long read.

Anyways I still hope you enjoy!

America 🇺🇸

Reminsing about the times you used to cling to him for everything.

You and your citizens needed food because your nation was experiencing a once-in-a-mellinnia drought?

You got it. Alfred would have prepared you and all of your people a splendid feast. He’s more than happy to provide.

Lacking clothes?

Not a problem. He’s made sure that all the clothes you require are bespoke. You look stunning & quickly made any other nation stare at you in awe whenever you attended world meetings with Alfred. Since you needed him, you did your best to prove your loyalty to him in subtle but sufficient ways. You always hung off his arm whenever meetings adjourned or before they began. You always sat next to him & voted in his favor when he did something for you. You’d become the lovely little charm he enjoyed showing on the world stage. He loved having all the strings attached to you. You were like a perfectly crafted marionette doll made just for him.

Alfred was always interested in maintaining dominance in your relationship. It was amusing to watch you attempt to break that power dynamic.

Alfred is going to allow you to cut your ties to him symbolically. He’ll allow your economy to blossom, the education sector to bloom, and you have one of the best healthcare systems. You’d figured out how to be efficient. But you had no military because you depended on him, and he couldn’t have you be too far independent from him. But to some degree, he wants you to believe that you are. He didn’t want to lose, just like England. He was better than him and felt that he’d always maintain control over you. It was obvious you couldn’t take care of yourself. You needed him. To him, your success was temporary.

The moment he sees the first string break from his precious puppet, he begins devising a plan to pin you with iron strings.

“Y/N? Why are you looking into how to structure a military? Aren’t the bases I gave you enough? But also aren’t your people kinda weak and like being with books and having intellectuals and farmers?”

“Yeah….” You began hesitantly and try to concoct a lie that would soothe his fears about being abandoned. You began to abhor the tight strings that choked the life out of your wrists. You wanted to begin to break free so that you could create a future independent of him & his contracts.

“No…actually…” Your voice was trembling now. You forced your arms outwards to the open air, waiting for the divine silver scissors to cut loose your wrists.

“I appreciate you, Alfred… I really do…but” You stare at him straight in the eyes, summoning your strength. His blue orbs had darkened with scary ghost-like shadows. Still you marched onwards.

“But I want to build myself up and be on my own.”

Alfred bit down on his own lip. Holding back his rage was difficult for him but he was desperately in love with you. He thought you would have known that it would have been your permanent place to be with him. The deal was that you were supposed to be in debt to him forever. And forever means until the end of time! Till the two of you were the last people standing in the midst of an alien war, the only ones on a desolate island. You were designed perfectly for him, but he had to let you find out just how difficult it is to be in charge of through thick & thin.

“That also means….” You place a comforting hand on his cheek to break him out of his internal fantasy of the two of you against the world. You attempt to soften the blow to his already bruised ego. A sprinkle of light briefly flashes over his eyes. You already know that what you’ve just started is going to be a major emotional endeavor.

“I can pay you back” A bright like the summer sun smile graced your face & melted some of the ice that had formed in his heart after hearing you wanted to become independent from him.

‘Y/N why do you have to do this to me? Why in hell do you want that of which is forbidden?’ He placed his hand on top of you hand that still cradled his cheek.

“Okay just let me know if I can hel-”

“NO! No… America…I’ve got to learn how to do things on my own. If I depend on you all the time I’ll never know how to do anything.”

The strings that are attached to your soul shake. Your wrists had been cut free by the silver scissors. That feeling was terrifying and magnificent.

Alfred's heart was hit with the sharp sting of a lightning bolt. What he feared was beginning to manifest into reality. It left a bitter taste in his mouth. It made him insanely angry and drove him mad. You never called him by his nation's name like that, at least not in a long time.

“Okay [Country Name]. We can talk later.” He politely removes your hand from his face and leaves you without giving you a hug good-bye. Alfred didn’t give you another glance before he left you alone. Once the door slammed shut that’s when his scheming began.

He will take you down like an agonizing tumor once you have your nation properly running. Alfred will allow you to stabilize because he wants to dissolve you slowly. He will document every miscalculation, bad decision, and failed proposal & use it as evidence that you should have never been allowed to be in charge of your own nation. This time his newer strings would be made of impenetrable steel.

Cartels and Mafias suddenly began to spring up in all of your major cities and spread to the suburbs. Your police departments were ineffective at solving the crime waves that were sweeping your small nation. Your government, of course, was in a panic due to the magnitude and rapid pace of these crime sprees. It only took three weeks for the chaos of the mafia wars to be taken to the quieter streets in the suburbs. There was an apparent hunt to find a drug den that had the product of at least $15 million. It was also rumored that it’s likely a scared diamond somewhere in your nation's midst.

“Oh, this is getting insane!”

You were watching the coverage of your nation's trials and tribulations on international television. America’s news outlets seemed to be particularly harsh. Deep down you were beginning to doubt whether being independent from him was the right choice.

‘Everything is getting so bad so quickly.’

You tap your fingers nervously against your desk until the fact dawns on you that: Dealing with tough issues was a part of life.

You take a deep inhale in and call a meeting with your boss, emergency response teams, & negotiators. You pop open your computer to take notes and devise a plan. You were ready for the crazy next few months with lots of caffeine and difficult conversations.

Alfred hates that you’ve become self-sufficient and can handle the major crises he’s constructed. You had cut loose your feet by now. You knew your silver scissors hungered for more. All you had left to cut was that of which was around your neck. He didn’t want to see you free.

The next thing Alfred will try to attack is your economy. Can’t run a nation on an empty bank account. As he drew up plans to make your nation sink under, there was a delicate knock at the door. He knew it was you. His heart hums fast-paced with anxiety-filled music.

‘Why won’t they be mine?’ He repeats over and over again in his mind. He swiftly flips his plan board to its other blank slate.

“Come in Y/N I know it’s you!” The door swings open to unveil his lovely puppet. You were ecstatic as you practically sprinted to him as you busted through the door. You had a white envelope with you.”

“Here you are Alfred some of what I owe you!” You gleefully hand him your payment. His heart begins to reveal that it has cracks that begin to deepen.

‘They can’t be doing this! How could they?!?! How in the fuck can they not see that they were made for me!’ Alfred didn’t want to admit he admired your determination. You really could be indepe-

Blood crept up his throat at the thought of your independence.

The check that you handed him may as well have been the sharp end of an axe. It made his blood run between ice and fire. He was angry that you desired the forbidden fruit and sad to some degree that you didn’t want him as much as he wanted you.

‘Weren’t you always supposed to stick around with the people who save you….Y/N? I’m your hero after all those decades…That means I’m supposed to own you for life dammit.’

Your hand on his shoulder will jolt him back to reality.

“Alfred, are you okay?”

“Me? Yeah. Yeah. Just busy and consumed with a few important things.” His eyes don’t meet yours they stay surveying the ground. He’s fighting the urge to pin you down & steal your silver scissors before they have a chance to become the ax. It means that you’d be able to sever your ties forever and be in-

“No.” He says to the frigid air-conditioned room.

“Hmm?”

“Long day Y/N and even longer month. You should go.” He shoos you away in an attempt to save face & not showcase his worse tendencies just yet. He needed you to believe that he was 100% on board with your plan to be 100% independent from him.

“Okay! I won’t linger. I’ll have another payment for you soon!” You rush off to continue with your ambitious endeavor. His heart never failed to flutter furiously whenever he was hit by your fiery determination. That’s one of the reasons he loved you and why he had to have you. He was itching to have you living with him again.

Once he see’s that you’d come a significant way in paying off your debt to him you had flourishing trade deals with larger countries that seemed to benefit your population greatly. You were doing it. The thick thread that was around your neck shook.

Alfred’s eye will twitch in reacting to the shift in power. He hated how you weren’t in his home doing more important things like cooking with him, playing video games, pigging out on pizza and watching movies. You knew how to soothe him, make him laugh, and fit perfectly between his arms.

Why did you have to break your responsibility to protect his heart?! Alfred’s inner turmoil about losing you will only increase. It will reach a boiling point where he’s going to resort to kidnapping you if you refuse to have a close permanent relationship where he can easily dominate you.

He shatters those silver scissors you possess into millions of tiny pieces. He doesn’t fail like Arthur because he is superior to that old man of his past. The iron strings will be bitterly cold & burn your skin. The steam of hate will be felt in the air as you know Alfred would never allow you to be without your strings. After all, you were all he’s ever wanted in his lonely life.

China 🇨🇳

There are many early mornings when the beauty of the Spring Blossoms takes his mind off of how his heart aches when he’s without you. With his legs crossed and his mouth inhaling deeply, his mind takes stock of the lack of noise in the background.

You weren’t there because you’d moved away.

Yao’s eye twitched at that awful thought. It made him sick to his stomach. He’s been through numerous wars, scandals, collapses, & centuries worth of bullshit. It’s not like he hadn’t felt betrayal but since he regarded you differently from the others. You had a certain effect on his heart, making him infatuated with you. You were like a rare gem unearthed from the Forbidden City. You were special to him, and no one else was allowed to have you. He, like Alfred, will want to maintain a calm & collected composure in front of you. Yao didn’t want you to know he hated the idea of you separating from him to become more independent. He wanted to keep you trapped in his beautifully crafted glass cage.

‘How in the hell does Y/N not love the life I meticulously crafted for them here?’ His mind wanders to all the fun outings you did together….hand-in-hand. One of the main things he enjoyed doing with you was drifting through Wangfujing snack street—the hustle and buzz of the sea of people that frequented the busy night market.

He loved being your guide & seeing your face light up when you tried something new & enjoyed it.

‘How could that not be enough for you Y/N?’

His nails scrape at his freshly pressed sage brown military uniform. The thick fabric crinkled under his frustration. He understood that having power over you would eventually make you want to escape him. He, however, was impressed with how you breached security systems and bypassed his guards.

For as long as you depended on him Yao primarily treated your relationship as he was your mentor that you were always supposed to adhere to. He always took up most of the time you had in the majority of your schedule. Yao hardly allowed you without his supervision either he or one of his guards was beside you. But what did that matter? Why should you complain? He provided for you since you’d come to him at his doorstep. You were desperate, destitute & in great need. You required his assistance & his tender love and care.

“Of course, y/n of course! Come in! You look sickly I can nurse you back to health!” Yao was ecstatic when you crawled to him in your desperate hour. It meant that he had an opportunity to ensnare you for all of your existence. That’s why he crafted that golden cage for you. It was beautiful, and that's all that should have mattered to you. Yao defended you well whether it be in the negotiation room on the world stage or even on the battlefield.

Yao had you covered. But you were still desperate to leave. It’s why the ground had tiny shards of glass that cut into him deeply.

Yao takes another deep inhale. He understood all too well that this was just a rebellious state & you’d soon be reminded of your place. All he’d have to do is retrieve & re-educate you.

Yao is going to devise ways to make your economy come to a sluggish crawl. He knows it is foolish to allow you to have a strong cultural economy which allowed your nation to expand your tourism, architecture, & education sectors. This allowed you to have time away from him so that you could develop your own ideals… a determent to his dominant control over you & your people. He wanted to keep you trapped in the delusion that you needed him for your survival.

‘The time for my sweet y/n to play this foolish game of independence has run it’s course.’

Yao’s mind blissfully wandered back to the days when he’d first found you: poor, destitute, and alone. You didn’t have any fight within you as a struggling nation. You and your people were on the verge of giving up all hope. Everyone who was a [name of your nation's people] wanted to resign themselves to being dissolved into the cold void of space, leaving behind nothing more than a chapter or two within the catalog of history.

That all changed when you caught the eye of one of the oldest empires in the world: China. He sought you out due to the fact that you were a lovely nation that sat near the sea. You had prime port spots and beautiful land whose capabilities were best suited for farming. He could take you under his wing & teach you how to utilize your available resources to it’s full capabilities. Not to squander itlike you were so foolishly doing.

He recognizes that his first huge miscalculation in maintaining control over you was allowing you to have unsupervised educational rights. You began to craft a population that valued critical thought over blindly following direction from those in charge.

Yao’s eye twitches once more. The thought of having to contend with a [country name] intellectual, professor, or anyone who’s been through your unique but effective education system meant he had….

“General Wang!” You have a response to the contract that you sent to [country name] for review.

Yao was eager to see your response to a partnership deal that was riddled with a ton of underhanded loopholes he could take advantage of if you disobeyed him. He was able to sense the hesitation in the soldier's hand. It wanted to jerk back. To keep his eyes away from the offensive sight.

“Let me guess the Magpie didn’t want to nest and make a home in its beautifully gilded cage?” No trace of surprise in his monotone voice. Within the calm, there was a silent raging anger brewing beneath his skin.

‘How fucking dare you Y/N. Using me. Don't you know once in debt you’ll always be in debt?’

It takes him a couple of decades to even acknowledge that he has feelings for you. By the time he does, he’s already rescued your nation a few times. He knew he felt differently about you just he couldn’t pinpoint why.

Yao hoped that you’d be satisfied with having the illusion of freedom. You could pick your clothes, what you ate, what outings. That was enough for a while. After all, you did come from a [country name] where there was nothing but struggle and strife and hardly enough to get by. It was easy at first to satiate your population with feasts that had high-quality and fresh food. Dim Sum day and night accompanied by the best teas and wines.

Yao LOVED showing off his knowledge of tea, whether it be a strong black tea that kicked alive all of your senses or a green tea that relaxed you to sleep and gave you lovely dreams. Crafting food and drinks was one of his specialties. He put extra passion and flare when it came to making food for you. That and he is trying to show off. He didn’t always need military power or grand spectacles to captivate. Thats what he had developed his cooking skills for. He could prove that he was more than just a political stronghold…he had a gentle side too. Yao is going to make a spectacle while he cooks. He will do back flips as he makes your pan-fried dumplings or spruces up your rice. His heart flutters with joy whenever he sees you giggle. It was like getting a strong hit of opium. You’re his addiction, and he wasn’t going to give it up. He wanted to create reasons as to why you should always be around him. So if keeping you poor was a part of the game, he was willing to do so.

He’s not an idiot or blind to how you’d be in pain from him being ruthless in trying to keep you under his thumb. So he does give you some economic leverage and allow your people to concentrate solely on art. He adored it when you created masterpieces especially when they were exclusively for him. It was easy & it wouldn’t burst the delicate bubble of reality that he wanted to keep you trapped in. It prevented the both of you for a while from thinking about the future. Yao could once again see his and your nation become tied together and be content. However, that's a double-edged sword as it does eventually lead you to crave more.

Yao is going to create a cyclical conundrum for himself: Give you microdoses of freedom that slowly show you that you can be independent and happy while fighting the urge to want to take you over and never let you be free and see you sad. He still has to worry about you seeking susbatantial answers he’s not really ready to answer (if ever). He hoped to some degree that as an immortal nation, you’d come to be infantilized forever. But he could not pause progress.

“You’re 100% right sir. Y/N & [citizen name] didn’t really want to be beholden to you anymore. The parliament has decided to vote against your proposal. They seem determined to forage their own way.”

“Dammit Y/N why do you have to be incredibly headstrong!” He springs to his feet as soon as the anger rushed through his body.

“Why do you have to be so ungrateful? Why do you show no respect? How in the world can Y/N not see that I LOVE & just want to PROTECT you!”

“Well, sir I suppose it’s time to resort to less gentle tactics to make them concede.”

“Oh, my rebellious misguided magpie. What am I going to do with you? Looks like you’re going to do with you? Looks like you’re going to need a heavy dose of tough love.”

Yao snaps his finger for his soldier to come close.

“If they want to prod the dragon as it sleeps then I’ll let the people of [country name] find out how foolish that is.”

Yao is going to “peacefully” kidnap you meaning he will bribe who he can and kill whoever can’t be reasoned with money when it comes to your security detail. He’s going to make a show of it. It will start when you accidentally cut yourself with glass. It will begin at the sole of your foot. Birds will suddenly join your midst. A black and white feather will land in your small puddle of blood.

“More won’t have to be spilled Y/N if you just give in.”

Russia 🇷🇺

At first, Ivan will be lax & he won’t really acknowledge the things that you’re trying to do to separate from him. He’ll want to believe he’s downed too much vodka and cocktails. It’s nonsense. Nonsense. All of it. Since you’d been with him for so long & still in debt to him he believed that’s guarantee that you’d never leave him. At this point in his mind, he’s built the narrative that you stayed because you loved him.

“ I wish things didn’t have to be this way,” Ivan says coldly with his pipe in one hand and love letter in the other.

At the beginning of your relationship, when you and your people were down on your luck, he saw you as a feminine version of Latvia that he wanted to protect and bear hug 24/7.

“Let the loving, warm arms of Mother Russia help you.”

Ivan is eager to assist you & your impoverished people not only because he is fond of you but because you have beautiful tracks of land when it’s not being bombarded by drought and animals facing severe infection and plagues. It seemed for some reason that sunshine and prosperity had been avoiding you like finding a cure to heal your cattle.

“Hmm? Ummm…” Were the only words that you could summon. You were shocked that one of the superpowers would come over to chit-chat with you. To some degree you knew you were hardly a faint blip on most nations radar.

“Y/N you’re cute when you behave like a nervous kitten.” He placed his gloved bear paw on top of your head. When he did so you could finally take stalk of how much taller he was than you. At least a foot and a few inches. Your muscles soon tensed up and intimidation along with a host of other emotions suddenly flooded your nervous system.

“Ha. Ha. Ha. I guess. I’ve been under a lot of stress lately you know?” Nervous still you began to involuntarily shake. You could tell if it was caused by your nerves or hunger. Being in his presence was intense. You bite down on your lip hoping there was at least some decent food when you got back to your room like your boss had promised. Your facade of keeping it together without collapsing seemed like an impossible task.

“Stress? What kind of stress? Tell me da? We are friends now after all aren’t we?” His pure periwinkle eyes sparkled with glitter with hints of black specks within them.

“Huh? I mean we’ve been on a few committees and have been in a few voting blocks together, but it’s …” You knew you had to be careful with your choice of words. One wrong one and you knew he could crush you in one quick motion only using his wrist.

You hardly had the energy to stand. You began to wobble. You became woozy.

“Come. Y/N. Come. You must sit sunflower. You look pale & weak.”

You were definitely going to ignore his emphasis on the word ‘weak’. You kept it as a mental note in the back of your head.

‘He’s being a bit suspicious and creepy. I wonder if he’s about to offer…’

“About to make you a kind offer you won’t forget.”

‘Is he!? No. NO. I’m definitely going loopy due to hunger.’ You were trying to concoct a response that was equal parts composed, resilient, and calm. However, that process was cut short when a grey, black, and white static filled your eyes. Rendering you incapable of seeming like a nation that had their shit together. Quite the opposite. With no response, Russia will take the lead. He placed his hand on your upper back. He took note of how your palms and fingers were spread apart wide in an attempt to stabilize yourself. Your eyes were glazed over with an exhausted grey mist.

He chuckles in amusement.

‘Man, this is going to be easy.’

It took a few minutes before your haze finally lifted. However, it felt like your soul had left your body and you were just an empty husk running on fumes.

“Um, this is really a conversation for a later time…” Unable to think of ways to navigate a negotiation with a massive country like Russia. You could at least buy yourself some time and try to talk to someone for advice. You know that it seemed benevolent but had plenty of tight ropes, strings, and red lines that come attached with such a deal.

“After the meeting, we can talk it out over dinner. I can show you some of my nation's best food.” His aura brightened at the fact that you’d be more within his domain and far deeper within his influence.

Russia, at this point, is kinda like a honey trap. He learned this tactic from his friend (enemy at times) America. Knowing how to be a smooth charmer even though he tends to have an unsettling presence that has chaotic energy with a baby face. He incorporates but doesn’t copy America. Russia tends to lean on his disarming soft face to help him and instead of offering punishments first, he’s more likely to offer an insensitive with maybe a threat at the end. (This only tends to happen if he can’t see that you’re responding positively to what’s being offered.) So Russia knows how to show more restraint.

Of course, you didn’t say no to the private meeting you had with him. Your boss practically begged you to do so, along with some of your citizens and advisers.

“How can we say no? You have to Y/N! What do we have to lose at this point?”An advisor stated with urgency.

“We can figure it out as we go but we must do something! This is a sign this is it!” Another citizen piped up.

“All right, all right I’ll go.”

Ivan will introduce you to this five-point plan that he drafted. It will be showcased through Matryoshka Doll. The five stages will explain how you will become one with Mother Russia without losing your recognizable national heritage.

‘Don’t worry’ is what he’ll assure you. He’s got all the heavy lifting. Just allow him to set the pace and control everything.

Ivan won’t immediately snap you up like a Venus fly trap. He knows that he has to manage you and all of your people, constituents, and other parties. He’ll let all settle in before he begins to move any plan forward.

Ivan’s scarf had wrapped around your shoulders as he brought out a Matryoshka doll that was about the size of your thumb.

“You will receive a new one once you complete a new phase. It shows how close friends we’ve become.”

Your eyes wander down to the bright red hooded figure that is decorated with Ivy and Azalea flowers. You ran your index finger down the smooth surface. You admired the intermixing of the pastels with the primary colors. The florals seemed to string themselves together like a fence that had cursive graffiti on it. In the back of your mind, you still couldn’t help but feel that you were making a huge mistake even if on the surface, things between you and Ivan would be smooth.

“We first have to ensure that your citizens are able to eat, have proper housing, and all of their other basic needs are met. You’ll have to live with me of course.”

‘Maybe, I’m just overthinking it. After all what choice do I really have? It’s not like I’ve been able to survive to well on my own.’

Your thumb continued to rub the fresh paint. The Azalea flowers encapsulated and sustained you. They were lovely because they represented the current concealed love. The colors made you feel safe and comforting. The coolness of the wood brought goosebumps to your skin. Your immune system was trying to send warning signs but you continued to ignore them for the idea that permanent comfort wasn’t too far off. The suffering was beginning to be too much to tolerate daily.

Ivan will make sure that you’re comfortable in his house. He’ll allow you to go see your nation every 4 months or so. The rest of the time will be you learning proper Russian, the culture, history, etc.

As you began to adjust to life with him, you enjoyed not having to face hardships. It was nice not to have to worry about where your next meal was to come from or how some of your particularly vulnerable cities managed to survive with minimal resources. These questions were no longer at the forefront of your mind. You allowed the sweet side of life to dull your senses.

The next part of Ivan’s five-point plan involves him having full jurisdiction of your military bases, ports, secret hubs, etc. He didn’t want you or your population getting into battle.

Ivan’s log-like arm was draped over you, and he introduced you to some of his seasoned commanders who’d be taking over all of your military operations. As you trailed behind him through the Russian-built base, you were in awe of the immense firepower he possessed and was lending to you. It was a not-so-subtle reminder of how much you now depended on him. It was the first time that you realized that you entered an inescapable pact that you made with Ivan. Your mind had finally registered the second doll with the Camellia flowers had been firmly sealed around you as it was tossed into the sea.

A firm squeeze on your hand brought you back to reality. Ivan’s sweet and somewhat sinister smile that adorned his pale snow face reassured you that everything would be fine so long as you were in his care.

If you want to escape him with the least emotional and economic damage and the lowest detriment to your citizens, then you really should have prevented him from setting up any kind of military infrastructure. So he now has a strategic advantage if (and or when) you try to separate from him.

As a nuclear power he of course, never let you have a program for energy much less for weapons. If you ever asked about such things ice and snow will coat the room while his face will have the everpresent smile remaining on Ivan’s face. His icicle-like ‘why’ was more than enough for you to never bring the subject up with him again.

The comfort began to feel more like constriction….suffocation. The air around you felt like you were in the vacuum of space.

The final matryoshka doll is decorated with cedar leaves (I will live for thee), Yellow Hyacinths (Jelously), Ivy (Wedded Love), and Primrose (I cannot live without you). It was handed to you right before the two of you began another tense meeting on why you’re trying to become more independent.

“I will not be without you Y/N nation of [insert most recognized attribute]”

“Hmmm?” Trying to make sure you didn’t just hear that highly possessive statement. Trying to give Ivan a chance to walk that back. After a minute of uncomfortable silence, you break it.

“Ivan, are you okay?” Your voice trembles out.

“Da Y/N….But we do have some difficult discussions to be had.” He closed his book with a loud thud, it was loud enough to make you jump in your seat a little.

At this point, it’s game over. Whatever well-thought-out plan you may have made to be independent of him may as well be strapped to a rocket being sent to the moon. If you want to be successful, you’d need another superpower backing you or extremely good socioeconomic conditions and political unrest in Russia to actually be able to win against him.

[kurogane2512]

Y'all knew this was coming

Short drabble on Signora in her Harbinger coat cause I need her even more now 😩

Just fluff, mildly suggestive | can imagine any reader

Snezhnayan winters are no joke, especially when they happen all year round. Fortunately, the Fatui developed plenty of heating sources in this frigid country, including warm clothes. You had come to Zapolyarny Palace to pick up your partner, the 8th Harbinger, La Signora. It was a chilling evening as a snowstorm was forecasted for later, you hoped to get home as soon as possible.

"Lady Signora wishes to see you in her office." One of the guards informed you as you stood in the lobby area. You figured this meant she had more work and would take longer to come out. You nodded and went to her office as escorted by the guard, knocking the door before going in.

"Rosa?" You called out to her as you went in and saw her sitting at the table, diligently working on something.

"Ah, my love, you are here. Could you wait for a bit? I have something to show you."

"Of course."

You walked up to the sofa and took a seat, releasing a sigh and rubbing your palms together to generate some heat. The Palace was much warmer than outside, and Signora's office was sufficiently heated as well but you couldn't help but feel a little chilly. You looked around her office and found the cause of that, a window was slightly ajar. It wasn't wide open to freeze you and you figured Signora did not feel the cold air coming from there otherwise she would have closed it before you came.

You continued waiting and the chilly air coming from the window grew, you would have closed it but it was too tall for you to reach, only Signora could. Signora finally finished her work and stood up. She looked at you and noticed you shivering and rubbing your hands together, becoming worried at your state.

"My love, are you feeling cold?"

"Oh....Uh, a little bit. That window has been open...." you pointed to the window on her right and she gasped in shock.

"I'm so sorry! I didn't realize, the cleaners must have left it open...."

She quickly closed the window shut, but you were still shivering.

"Oh, by the way, what did you have to show me?" you asked her after standing up.

"Ah, I suppose it's the perfect opportunity for it~" she giggled and picked up a packet kept on the floor on her side of the table and called you nearby. You walked up to it and saw it was some kind of big coat, white and fluffy and adorned with various accessories.

"What is this, Rosa?"

She smirked and opened the packet to take out the coat, "A special coat gifted to all Harbingers by Her Majesty herself~"

She proudly announced as she took it out and opened it. It was quite a hefty garment with floor touching length, wide bell sleeves and a thick fur collar complete with chains and crystal accessories. Signora removed her cape and slipped on the coat, she did not cover herself completely and instead draped it stylishly with the collar falling down her shoulders and exposing her chest.

"Wow, it looks really good, Rosa! It suits you so much!" you complimented with a bright smile, making her smile in return.

"Thank you, my love. It is really well made; though, I don't see myself wearing it all the time since it's quite cumbersome to carry."

"Mhm, I can understand. Also, you don't really need a coat like this anyways. You don't feel cold, after all."

Signora smirked then stepped closer to you with the coat spread open as if to hug you, "Well, it may not be useful to me. But it is plenty useful for you~"

"W-Wait, me?! I would barely even fit in it!"

You exclaimed but Signora only came closer and wrapped her arms around you, draping the coat over you and embracing. A warm, protective layer was formed around you from the coat and Signora's own body. She was already taller than you and the coat englufed you completely even when she was wearing it; not to mention, you were as close as to lay your head on her soft bosom.

"Oh my, isn't this cozy?~" Signora mused and pulled your head further into her breasts, caressing your head and holding you close.

You blushed and lightly kept your hands on her waist and tried to relax; her intoxicating scent invaded your senses as you stood close, her perfume was a rich wine-like fragrance but there was a hint of sweet rose-like odor mixed in, likely from her body wash. It was a pleasant and bewitching aroma, one that made you relaxed as well as tipsy.

"Hmm, this coat would be rather useful I think~" Signora chuckled looking down at you, noting the way you were holding her and were practically lost in her. She then smiled and pulled the coat further around you and completely caged you in her arms, embracing you passionately before planting a kiss on your head.

[biteofcherry]

🧚🏻‍♀️✨Bippity boppity bow chicka wow oww! You’ve been visited by the Shameless Hoe Fairy, and now you must pick one CE fictional babe and share a hoe thought including the prompts: forest + “I can hear you breathing.” 😏 Go on and spread those shameless hoe vibes and your legs 😘❤️

The Sacred Hunt

Curtis Everett x reader

summary: Traditions were sacred. You were always vehement in seeing to that. But you never considered that at some point you may become a core part of one of your people's traditions.

warnings: sliiight dub-con (not really, but just to be sure); chase kink of sorts; arranged relationship (kinda); exp**cit se*ual content; loss of vir-g-i-n-ity;

Author's Note: This is a story of firsts - my first fic written on new laptop and my first time writing something for Curtis! @stargazingfangirl18 you kinda deflowered my Curtis virginity here with your prompt 🤣 I hope the wild mess of it will be a sufficient sacrifice to sate you.

Main Masterlist

Smoky scent of bonfires has dispersed into warmed aroma of pine and ferns the further you got into the forest. The wild beat of music and pounding of feet stomping to the rhythm, as people danced in celebration, completely died out. There was only the spooky hoot of owls hidden in the tree nooks.

And the echo of your heart, thundering rapidly in your chest.

You crossed the point of expected escape quite a while ago; stopping only for a second to look at the prepared bedding on the forest floor, before you bolted further.

You shouldn't have done that, you knew. But you couldn't make yourself to simply wait there for the champion to appear in his scary glory and seal your fate.

The Hunt was sacred.

While other seasonal celebrations were approached with variously eager engagement, all the villages in the area went beyond reason to organize this night. To show deepest kind of gratitude to the best hunter of past seasons.

The Hunt happened only once a decade, taking into consideration all of young and older hunters who provided for all the villages throughout the seasons. Elders chose the one most worthy of the title and bountiful benefits.

Each household provided a gift for the Hunter, from a barrel of mead, to a roll of silk.

The greatest prize, however, was a bride.

Each village appointed a female of age, ripe for the taking. It was considered an honor and, to be quite honest, was a position desired by many women.

Any of them could say no; they could decline the offer and wouldn't be forced to participate. They simply never wanted to say no.

You admitted you were one of those women, as well. To be wed to a husband who is strong, hard working and respected; to have your pantry and chests filled with gifts at the start of your married life.

Truly, you gasped in disbelief, then almost jumped in joy, when the elders picked you as one of the betrothed to choose from. Perhaps the honor of being chosen was enough, as it also put additional value to you as a wife for any other men who would be looking for a bride once The Hunter rejected you.

But then, as you stood in a semi circle with few other young women and The Hunter stepped into the light cast by the biggest bonfire, your elation skittered into fear.

The elders chose Curtis.

It shouldn't come as a surprise. He was the one who brought the biggest prey, who showed inhuman endurance during long, freezing winter hunts. He protected your villages from Wilford's raids and got rid of the tyrant permanently.

Yes, Curtis definitely deserved the title and the gratitude.

And a dutiful bride to share a life with him and ease his burdens.

But staring at him as he walked out of the shadows, you felt yourself cowering away. Curtis was big and intimidating. His naked chest bore scars, his corded muscles flexed as he clenched and unclenched his fists. Wolf pelt was thrown over his shoulders, the hollowed head of the animal resting atop Curtis' head, shiny animal teeth glinting right above Curtis' astonishingly blue eyes.

He was a quiet and brooding type, rarely smiling for anyone. You couldn't imagine sharing a warm, soft moment with him.

Though you certainly could imagine a rough and heated communication of bodies...

When Curtis stopped in front of you and offered you his hand, you felt like fleeing that very moment. Yet your trembling fingers slipped into his large hand; your world narrowing to the brutal shades dancing on Curtis' face, as everyone else disappeared from your peripheral vision.

A cup of mead was given to Curtis and he took a sip before lifting it to your lips. Without taking your eyes off of him, you swallowed the thick, sweet drink; felt it's heat fill your veins.

Then you were led to the edge of the clearing where a line of torches and flower garlands were forming an entrance into the woods.

For The Hunt to be complete, The Hunter had to chase his prey and claim victory.

It was mostly a formality nowadays: a joyful chase through the forest, until the couple reaches the prepared spot where they were supposed to consummate their bonding.

You followed the expected motions, running into the woods toward suggested direction. Lush greenery soothed you, for a moment you even felt a spark of excitement.

Then your feet stopped at the edge of the narrow clearing, where linens and pelts and adorning trinkets were splayed. You could imagine yourself there, naked and spread for your future husband. When your mind inserted the image of Curtis - a dark, rough shard in that fair, soft setting - you nearly squeaked.

"Will you lay down, or do you want me to help you?"

You jumped in place at his deep, low timbre resounding unexpectedly right behind you.

You didn't even sense him approach!

Not a snap of a twig, not a rustle of leaves. Not even your own instinct, which you considered to be quite good, warned you of the hunter's approach.

You turned around, nearly bumping your nose right into Curtis' naked chest. He smelled of sandalwood oil and earth.

You forced your eyes upward, meeting his gaze. He wasn't looking at you with anger; rather with curiosity. And a hungry gleam that caused your thighs to clench.

There wasn't a single logical though behind your action, but you simply bolted.

You ran through the woods blindly. Ferns licked the skin of your thighs, as your simple, short white shift lifted up. Moss made your feet slippery, the ground wasn't easing your moves either.

You slowed only for a split of a second, just to catch a breath and decide on direction. You forgot a single heartbeat was enough for a skilled hunter to strike. It was definitely enough for the best of hunters.

"I can hear you breathing."

Curtis' tone held a hint of amusement as he leaned against a tree trunk, opposite of the one you were braced against.

Before you made a single step to ran again, Curtis moved. He was so damn fast! Breath stuttered in your chest as he pinned you against the tree with his heavy mass.

"Was the chase for my benefit, doe?" He asked, tracing a single finger along your cheek.

"I-" you tried to regain steady breathing.

"I enjoyed it," though he didn't smile, somehow you sensed he was genuine, not mocking you. "Though to the mystic depths of the night forest, I'd rather enjoy sweet, moist caverns of my bride."

His other hand squeezed your thigh. Your pupils blew wide as Curtis slid it up, pushing it beneath your shift.

You clenched your legs, your hands landing on Curtis' bared chest. You didn't push him away; the heat seeping from him and the firm structure of his muscles made you pause.

The finger on your cheek disappeared. Curtis brushed the petals on the flower crown adorning your head.

"The other women," he spoke, "they looked excited and in bliss. But you-" he picked a single petal, then traced the delicate pad along your lips and down the column of your neck-

"You looked determined. So sure and ready for your future."

Curtis cocked his head, eyes holding yours as he dipped the petal into the valley of your breasts.

"What changed it?" He asked.

"I-" it was really hard to think of anything when Curtis' hands were touching you.

And he made the contrast between teasing tickle of a petal on your breasts and a massive hand pushing between your thighs maddening.

"I don't know," you sighed, spreading your legs a bit in defeat.

"I think I got a little scared." Your hands moved to Curtis' shoulders, your hold tightening.

"I can be scary." Curtis nodded. "But you have nothing to fear, doe. I will never hurt you."

He paused; his gaze dropping to the petal swaying on the swell of your breast as it rose and fell in quickened breath. Curtis bowed his head slightly, then blew the petal away.

"As long as you don't run from me," he lifted his head, stark blue irises sparking with mischief and lips curling into a wolfish grin.

Then his hand was tearing the top of your shift, exposing your breasts, while his other hand cupped your mound.

Calloused fingers squeezed your breast as Curtis' mouth claimed your lips in a hungry kiss. Oxygen seemed to stop flowing to your brain for a moment, your heart stopping in shock, when you felt the pressure of his power.

Was it how prey felt when a predator sank its teeth into their neck? A freezing shock that melted into surrender for the inevitable.

You tensed like a string, but your body quickly gave in. Lips parting obediently, you allowed Curtis' tongue to tease yours. Your hands pushed at the pelt on his shoulders, yanking the whole cover off of him, so your fingers were finally able to move to the back of his head.

A keen spilled from your throat into Curtis' mouth when a single, thick digit pushed into your core.

Curtis cooed softly, trailing wet kisses along your jaw. His teeth scraped your earlobe, drawing your attention to the sting of it as he rubbed a thumb against your clit.

"We have to sate the hunt, doe," Curtis rasped, pushing another finger in and thrusting them into you quicker.

You scraped at the back of his head, crying out at the intrusion. It was more, so much more, than your small fingers. He reached deeper, too; stretching you and touching spots that seemed to both hurt and be deliriously pleasant.

"A good hunt demands blood." His breathy growl made you shiver.

Curtis pulled his fingers out of you, suddenly; your wetness smeared on your skin when he gripped the back of your thigh.

The world twirled as he laid you down on the forest ground, quickly cutting off splashes of green of the tree crowns with the frame of his huge body hovering above you.

"Please!" You whined, hands clawing at Curtis' sides.

You weren't sure if you were pleading for mercy, or if your own need was so bloodthirsty.

He spread your legs wide, settling himself between them. Your shift was rolled up on your belly, your slick glistening on the thatch of curls around your folds.

Curtis' gaze was focused between your bodies and your own eyes shifted downwards too. You let out a strangled gasp at what you saw.

Curtis was palming his cock - big, like the rest of him. When he rested it over your mount, the tip of it reached almost your bellybutton.

He would be so deep...

Your fingernails pierced his skin as Curtis guided himself into your opening. He was barely in and it already stretched you impossibly.

Then he pushed more of his weight onto you, bracing himself on his forearms on both sides of your head. He looked down at you; drinking in the metamorphosis of grimaces on your beautiful face as he thrust into your virgin cunt.

Your cry echoed through the forest as the merciless slide split you in two. Every second felt like torment that dragged overwhelming pleasure along with the sting.

And he kept on driving in, even when you felt there's not an inch left inside you to fill.

"There you go, doe," Curtis moaned, rocking his hips and pushing his cock deeper and deeper. "That's a good girl. That's it."

When he finally stilled, buried so deep inside it felt nearly uncomfortable, your forehead was dewy with sweat and your thighs were shaking.

You felt so full. Wetter, too. Your arousal mixing with a dab of virginal blood.

"You're mine, doe," Curtis mouthed against your lips, nipping your bottom lip with his teeth.

"Yours," you mewled, feeling your walls fluttering.

Though Curtis didn't seem to mind you scratching his sides, as you tried to tame the tension and need bubbling inside of you, he yanked your hands off of him. He put your hands above your head, gripping your wrists with one of his hands.

And then he started moving.

The pace wasn't fast, but each thrust was rough and forceful, causing your body to jolt. Your untried pussy welcomed each stroke like the first one - resilient to the stretch and loving how Curtis made you take it anyway.

Curtis bent his head, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth. Was it the sucking, or the way his hips shifted and the head of his cock bumped into a special spot, but your knees drew up and your back arched.

You screamed into the night as your first orgasm shook every bone in your body.

Trickle of your juices, pinked with your blood, dripped into the ground beneath you.

A long while later (when your voice grew hoarse and your brain stopped registering anything beyond the feeling of Curtis owning every part of your body), Curtis' cum soiled the forest floor too.

He spilled deep inside, groaning against your lips as his dick twitched. He kept rocking erratically, pushing excess of his cum out of you.

You were a boneless mess when Curtis picked you up a few heartbeats later.

Your arms wrapped around his neck as he nestled you against his chest. His scent became headier, earth and musk overpowering the subtle sandalwood.

Curtis carried you back to the abandoned bedding. He laid you down on soft linens and you welcomed the clean, fresh fabrics.

"No rest yet, doe," Curtis rolled you onto your side and settled behind you.

He gripped beneath your knee and pulled your leg outward. He guided his cock between your folds, rubbing the head back and forth over your oversensitive clit.

He caught your hand when you tried patting him away in protest.

"Tradition of The Hunt is sacred," he said. "Evidence of the coupling is necessary for our betrothal to be officially binding."

In the back of your mind, you knew that. There were foggy memories of a hunt ten years earlier; a couple returning in the early morning from the depths of the woods and matrons of the elders going in to check upon the consummation evidence.

But you were sore and exhausted, your brain wasn't working in logical ways. You never imagined how draining sex would be.

And you happened to be chosen by the hunter known for limitless endurance.

"Besides," Curtis pushed into you, "I want you again."

"I will never stop wanting you, doe."

[lou-struck]

Bigger Bling

Mammon x reader

Wc:1.9k

~Mammon can’t stand to look at that damn promise ring Lucifer gave you any longer.

a/n: This is a loose sequel to this Lucifer One-Shot HERE (You don’t have to read it but If you want to go ahead)

It's shiny

It's expensive 

And it's BIG!

Mammon's deep blue eyes glare down at the stunning promise ring on your finger. The very one Lucifer had bought for you all those months ago. As it rests on that special finger, the Demon determines that he has never hated a gem more in his life. The deep red garnet with the black-gold band looks like something his brother would choose for you. 

He really hates that.

"Mc, you should take that thing off and Let the Great Mammon give you a real rock." he pouts, his tanned fingers boredly toying with the sparkling gem on your finger. 

You only laugh and ruffle the Demon's white hair with your unembellished hand. "Mammon, I can't do that. This ring is very important to me. How would Lucifer feel if I took his gift off?" 

The Demon's cheeks turn a dusty pink color as he tries to hide your effect on him with his hands.

"Who cares what he thinks?" he mutters, "I want to give ya somethin' even better so you'll be dyin' to take that old ring off."

That's it!

Mammon's eyes light up as the cogs in his head start to turn with a not-so-evil scheme. 

All he has to do to get you to take off that cheap little ring is to buy you something even better. It will be gold, and shinier and will cost even more Grimm than what his older brother had spent on you. 

He turns towards the door, using his insane speed to bolt before you have a chance to say goodbye to him. He doesn't notice the look of confusion on your face as he shuts the double doors behind him with a conniving grin. 

With you out of sight, Mammon has the alone time he needs to revel in his brilliance. He had just made a killing from selling some of the gifts that were just sitting in Asmo's closet of offerings from his fan clubs. 

His brother really has no idea how much of a fortune he is sitting on…

Nevertheless, Mammon reaches into his wallet and pulls out Goldie. The credit card seems to shake in apprehension of the Demon's upcoming shopping trip to only the best jewelry shops the Devildom has to offer. 

~

It's been a long day at RAD, and without Mammon's company, the day seemed to go by even slower than normal. After he walked out on you this morning, you didn't see him for the rest of the day.

After talking to a few lesser demons you realized that he didn't show up for any of his other classes either. And as you are sent to his voicemail box for the nth time today, your heart begins to ache in worry that your Avatar of Greed has somehow gotten himself into some kind of trouble.

Twisted scenarios of the Demon being chased by witches or undead debt collectors churn your gut throughout your walk home. As you let yourself in through the massive double doors, your weary mind replays your last interaction with him before he left. 

You fiddle with the ring on your finger and wonder what was it about the gem on your finger that got him so upset?

Your good-natured worrying begins to boil under your skin. When you notice that he's not in the living room with the others, those feelings only increase.

Clear your throat, gaining the attention of the three conscious demons in the room. Belphie, the fourth, is fast asleep, resting his head on his twin's lap. Lucifer is off at the castle doing some work with Diavolo. And Levi is up in his room, where he has been working his way through a new game since last night. "Hey, have any of you guys seen Mammon anywhere?" 

Satan looks up from his book briefly and gives you a smile. "Thankfully, no. Without his jabbering, I've been able to make some sufficient progress in my book."

You roll your eyes lightheartedly at the blond's remark but look to the others in hope they have a different answer for you. 

Asmo sees the concern on your features and tries to comfort you with an embrace. The sweet scent of his cologne soothing you a bit. "Sorry, Hon, I haven't seen him since breakfast. But I'm sure he'll come back soon. In the meantime, how about I take your mind off things?" The playful suggestiveness in his tone makes you giggle as you look over 

"Mmnnnother two., Breakfast." Beel hums dreamily as he imagines the Bufo Egg quiche Asmo baked for you all this morning. You can tell from the little stream of drool that trickles from the corner of his , That he will be of little help to you. 

Belphie blinks up at you sleepily, stretching his arms out lethargically as he sits upward. "Mammon?" he yawns. "I saw him earlier when Beel and I were walking home. He was out shopping and looked strangely happy. 

"We did?" Beel asks, coming out of his food-related daze. "When? I didn't see him."

"Probably because you were trying to sniff out the Devil Dog vendor." Belphie snorts before turning his attention back to you and gives you a sleepy smile. "He's just messing around somewhere. He'll be back soon."

As if on cue, you hear the front door burst open. Mammon calls your same in a sing-song voice from the entrance as the others groan. Satan huffs and puts a cat-shaped bookmark in the novel he is reading. "There goes my quiet afternoon. I'm gonna go to my room and finish this."

The Avatar of Wrath gets up and pads quickly out the door just as Mammon strides in with a pep in his step. A small gift bag in his hand as he blinds you with his pearly white smile. He looks elated, which kinda irks you since you have spent the better part of the afternoon concerned for his well-being.

What are ya doin' Mc?" the white-haired Demon asks, as if you are the one who has evaded him all day long.

"Wondering where you have been all day, Mammon?" You respond back exasperatedly. "You just got up and left me this morning and didn't show up for any of your other classes. I thought you got yourself in trouble or kidnapped by witches… again." you mutter that last part under your breath, but Mammon seems too excited to notice. 

"Course you were worried bout the Great Mammon," he laughs, slinging an arm around you comfortably. "That's why yer such a good human."

"Mammon, seriously, Where were you?" 

There is a twinkle in his eyes and a faint dusting of crimson on his tanned skin as he looks around the room at his brothers, who are not-so-subtly listening in on the conversation. "Lemme show ya somewhere private."

He takes your left hand but quickly jolts and releases it when he comes into contact with your ring. He takes your right one instead, and you notice how sweaty his hands are. He walks you silently down the hallway and up the stairs until he gets you to the safety of his bedroom. 

He sits with you on his plush bed and begins to ruffle through the tissue paper of his gift bag before pulling out a cubic, black, crushed velvet box. 

The size throws you off a bit since it is roughly the size of a child's shoe box. 

Far bigger than any kind of jewelry box you have ever seen. 

Not even the cases Diavolo uses when transporting the crown Jewels are this big. Your curiosity and confusion blend together in a strange concoction as Mammon sets the box in your hands. "Mammon, what is this?" you ask nervously. 

He is practically wiggling in your seat in anticipation "Jus' open it, you'll see."

Spurred but his excitement, you crack open the box to reveal the biggest freaking diamond you have ever seen in your life. The gem is the size of a softball and is tethered to a thin golden band at the bottom. 

You blink at your reflection in the facets of the gem, unsure of what to say. "I-is this a."

"Isn't it amazin'?" he gushes. "The biggest ring ya ever seen?"

So it is a ring…

"It's certainly the biggest." you parrot, unsure if you should take the ring out of the box or put it in some kind of museum. "This must've cost a fortune. How did you pay for this?"

"Oh it's nothin'," he laughs with a nonchalant wave of his hand. "It'll take me a few hundred years to pay the thing off, but only the best for my human." It takes both of his hands to remove the heavy ring from its cushion. The thin golden band looks like it is bending under the ring's weight. "Come on, you should take that old thing off and put this baby on instead."

You realize that he is gesturing to your promise ring, and everything clicks into place. 

Mammon wanted to give you something so special so you would remove the ring Lucifer had given you all those months ago. That ring is invaluable; it's a promise, a thank you for the love you have given to him and his brothers since you arrived in the Devildom. It's not something you can just discard.

But Mammon must think you wear it as a sign you love Lucifer more than him. "Oh Mammon," you murmur, placing your hand on his shoulder. "You know I love you, right?"

When he realizes that you aren't going to throw your older ring to the floor in disgust, his face falls. He's confused and looks at you like a kicked puppy. "B-but this one is better; i-it costs ten-no a hundred times more than the other one."

"It's not the price of the ring that makes it special," you say softly, gently tracing your finger over the massive diamond Mammon had gotten you. "This is beautiful, but it's too much."

"I jus' wanted to show ya that I'm yer first. I love ya Mc." he sighs. "And I wanted to give ya somethin special so everyone would know it."

"I know you do, and I love you." gently, you close the box and hand it back to him. "Even without the Diamond to end all diamonds." 

"I know ya do." he sighs, bumping you playfully with his shoulder. "But do ya really want me to return it?" 

"It's for the best," you chuckle. "I wouldn't want you to be in debt."

"It was a lot of Grimm," he says, chuckling nervously. "I swear Goldie was cryin' when I pulled her out t' pay but yer worth every bit."

"I'm sure she was," you laugh. "But I do appreciate the gesture. How about we take it back together."

"Yer the best mc," the Demon says eagerly, giving you a heartfelt smile, "How about we pick out another piece for ya. Like a bracelet or somethin?" He sees the slight apprehension on your face and places his hand over your own. "It doesn't have to be crazy expensive if ya don't want it ta be' I jus' wanna give ya somethin' so ya know how much the Great Mammon cares about ya."

Swayed by this little compromise, you find yourself agreeing to the Demon's request. Standing from the bed and taking his hand.

A few hours later, you come back wearing a simple yet elegant gold bracelet. Giggling when Mammon marches you around the Devildom to show everyone the special piece of jewelry he got for you.

Tagging: @enchantedforest-network

[nellasbookplanet]

Book recs: monster/creature friendships

Do you like movies like Alien vs Predator, Venom, and Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes? Do you enjoy dragon riders and talking animal companions? Friendly yet deeply inhuman aliens? Monster children and monster parents? Consider yourself less of a monster fucker and more of a monster best friend? Watch horror movies and fantasize about befriending the horrifying ghosts and ghoulies? Then this is the list for you!

A note: some of these books do have romance subplots, but not as the most important relationship or focus.

A (second) note: the criteria for "monster" are subjective. I looked mainly for titles featuring creatures who neither look nor act/think human. In cases where they are more human looking, I wanted a distinctly inhuman mind and morality, meaning most books featuring vampires, werewolves, fey, etc are excluded. I may have included books you feel aren't monstrous enough, or excluded ones you feel are sufficiently monstrous but I don't agree about. Again, it’s subjective.

Feel free to leave your own recs in the notes, but please know that if you rec books featuring mostly human vampires and werewolves I will be judging. I have separate lists for those, go look there instead.

For more details on the books, continue under the readmore. Titles marked with * are my personal favorites. If you want more book recs, check out my masterpost of rec lists!

Project Hail Mary by Andy Weir*

Ryland Grace just woke up from a coma, unable to remember anything. He finds himself alone on a space ship, and as his memories slowly trickle back, he realizes he’s been sent on a mission: to find a solution to the impending doom of the earth. Still struggling with holes in his memories, Ryland tries to fulfill his mission, but as he gets closer to his goal, he discovers someone else got there first. And they aren’t anything close to human. Funny, heartfelt, and heavy on the science.

Fragment by Warren Fahy*

The reality TV show Sealife is having a rough time - as it turns out, a ship full of scientists doesn’t make for the kind of drama they hoped for. Hoping for some excitement, they reach Hender’s Island, a fragment of a lost continent that may contain an interesting new ecosystem. But as they step foot on the island, they quickly come to realize the ecosystem isn’t just new, it’s highly dangerous and very hungry. Among all this life is one single species that may be more dangerous than any other, but which may also be the salvation of the scientists on the island. A bit wonky, but genuinely one of the most fun books I have read, I love it so much.

The Road to Roswell by Connie Willis*

Francie has just traveled to Roswell to attend her college friend’s wedding to a UFO conspiracist. Not a believer herself, Francie is shocked when she finds herself abducted by an alien. Her abductor is not much what popular media would have you believe, looking more like a tumbleweed than a grey alien, and is clearly on some kind of mission it isn’t willing to put on hold for the sake of Francie attending to her duties as a bridesmaid. As more people get roped along - among those a conman, an old lady, a ufo conspiracist, and a retiree with an RV - Francie finds herself getting closer to the alien and wanting to help it succeed.

The Last Human by Zack Jordan

Young adult. Sarya is a human - the only one of her kind. Living with her adoptive mother - a vicious, insectile alien - on a space station surrounded by hundreds of other alien species, Sarya spends every day staying below the radar and hiding her true identity. But when an odd new alien arrives on the station, she may finally get an answer to her biggest question: why humanity was deemed too dangerous to be allowed to exist.

Alien vs. Predator: Prey by Steve Perry & S.D. Perry*

On desert planet Ruyshi, businesswoman Machiko Noguchi is about to take over the leading position in a small human colony. Her job is made infinitely harder when the colony comes under attack on two fronts as two species of vicious aliens choose it as their battle ground. If you're reading this list, you probably already know of the movie by the same name. The book, while completely different in setting and cast, does feature many similar plot points, among those a third act team-up between a human woman and a murderous alien.

Children of Time by Adrian Tchaikovsky*

Millenia and generation spanning scifi. After the collapse of an empire, a planet once part of a project to uplift other species to sentience is left to develop on its own, resulting not in the intelligent monkeys once intended but in sentient giant spiders. Millenia later, what remains of humanity arrives looking for a new home, only to be met by the artificial remains of the ancient woman who once led the uplift project - and she is not willing to let them on her planet.

The Moon and the Sun by Vonda N. McIntyre

You can’t go wrong with a Vonda McIntyre novel just, like, in general. This one is set in 17th century France, where a young woman and her brother travel to live at the royal court, where they are to care for and study a strange captured sea monster fabled to have the ability to grant eternal life. A lot of focus on court politics as well as the cultural and biological differences between the humans and the mermaid. Also available as a movie (but it’s not very good, please just read the book).

Winter Tide by Ruthanna Emrys*

Lovecraftian fishpeople! Aphra and her brother are the only survivors after the government raided their home, Innsmouth. Their only living family are the amphibian people of the deep, whom they will one day join, but until then they are bound to land where they struggle to build new lives for themselves after the great loss of their home and loved ones. Then rumors start to spread of a russian agent seeking dangerous and ancient magic, forcing Aphra to involve herself as they try to stop it. Does contain horror elements but is generally a much more optimistic look on cosmic horror than most lovecraftian stories, told from the perspective of one of his monsters. Lots of focus on found family and rebuilding of community.

The Doors of Eden by Adrian Tchaikovsky*

The Doors of Eden is something of an experiment in speculative biology, featuring versions of Earth in which various different species were the one to rise to sentience, from dinosaurs to neanderthals. Now, something is threatening the existence of all timelines, dragging multiple different people and species into the struggle, among those a pair of cryptid hunting girlfriends and a transgender scientist. Together, can they find a way to save the multiverse?

The Spider and Her Demons by sydney khoo*

Young adult. All teenager Zhi wants is a normal life (and possibly for her harsh aunt to be a bit nicer), but it’s hard when she’s half spider demon. Every day she must conceal her true nature and hide in human guise. When she slips up and eats a man in front of her rich, aloof classmate Dior, Zhi thinks her life is over. But Dior has secrets of her own, and she is dead set on making herself a part of Zhi's life.

Vespertine by Margaret Rogerson

Young adult fantasy. Artemisia prefers the dead to the living, and is training to become a Gray Sister, a nun who helps the souls of the deceased pass on to the afterlife rather than remain as dangerous spirits. To defend her convent, Artemisia accepts the help of a dangerous revenant, a powerful spirit which grants her great power but also could possess her the moment her guard is lowered. As evil threatens her homeland, Artemisia and the revenant must find a way to work together.

Slewfoot: a Tale of Bewitchery by Brom

Historical horror. Young Englishwoman Abitha has only recently arrived and married into a Puritan colony when she unexpectedly becomes a widow. As she strives to save her small farm from going under in the wake of tragedy, something dark and dangerous stalks the surrounding woods. He doesn't know whether he's spirit, devil, or god, doesn't even know his own name, and in requesting Abitha's help, both their lives are changed forever.

Lycanthropy and Other Chronic Illnesses by Kristen O'Neal*

Young adult. Priya had plans to go to Stanford, but is derailed when the fallout from lyme disease puts her back, making her question if she'll ever get back to normal. Luckily she has her discord support group with whom she can chat and vent about her illness. Even more - she has Brigid, online fandom friend and fellow chronic illness sufferer. But when Brigid disappears from the web without warning, Priya must drive to Pennsylvania to make sure her friend is okay - and finds that Brigid's condition is a bit hairier than she expected.

Sorcery of Thorns by Margaret Rogerson

Young adult. Elisabeth is a librarian, trained to handle grimoires - books of magic which, if mishandled, can turn into horrifying monsters. When an act of sabotage leads to the release of one of the library's most dangerous grimoires, Elisabeth finds herself implicated in the crime. Forced to team up with an enemy sorcerer and his loyal and unpredictable demon servant, Elisabeth sets out to find out the truth of what happened.

The Girl With All the Gifts by M.R. Carey

In a post apocalyptic, zombie-infested wasteland, a group of characters try to stay alive and hope to find a cure. One of the characters is Melanie, a young girl who carries the contagion inside of her and hungers for flesh, but like many children of the apocalypse has kept her humanity. Is she and children like her the answer to the cure we are looking for? Or are they the start of something entirely new? This book has also been adapted as a movie!

Malevolent by Harlan Guthrie*

Lovecraftian horror mystery. Private detective Arthur Lester wakes up in his office, his partner dead, memories fuzzy, vision gone, and the voice of a malevolent entity in his mind. Unable to see, Arthur is forced to rely on guidance from the entity as he attempts to solve the mystery of what it is and where it came from. Is this a book? No. But as someone who reads mostly audiobooks, the difference between a book and a fiction podcast is negligible, and also I love this story and its characters and want all of you to do so too.

Parasyte by Hitoshi Iwaka*

Horror manga, heavy on the bodyhorror. Shinichi Izumi wakes one day after a strange dream: that an alien parasite crawled into his arm. Soon he realizes it was more real than dream, and that an inhuman creature, having failed to eat and take over his brain, now controls his arm. Forced to cooperate, the two do their best to survive as more parasites quietly infiltrate society, meaning to devour our entire species. Also available as a very faithful anime!

Skulduggery Pleasant by Derek Landy*

Young adult. Twelve-year-old Stephanie Edgley's uncle, famed horror writer, just died mysteriously and left her his entire fortune. As it turns out, the stories he wrote weren't entirely made up, and that which killed him wasn't entirely human. In trying to avenge his death, Stephanie joins forces with Skulduggery Pleasant, sorcerer, detective, and living, walking skeleton.

The Cloud Roads by Martha Wells

Moon doesn't know what he is. Having lost his family young he lives on the move, shifting his shape to hide his true form. The only ones similar to himself he's ever encountered are the vicious, bloodthirsty Fell, but he knows he cannot be one of them. When chance leads to a meeting with someone like him, he hopes his days of loneliness are over. But his new people stand against a dangerous enemy, and not all of them welcome Moon's help. A departure from other titles on this list in that it features only creatures, with not a single human on page.

The Girl From the Well by Rin Chupeco

Young adult horror. Okiku died three hundred years ago, her body thrown down a well. Now she spends her days hunting for and punishing murderers like the one who once killed her. When a strange boy bearing odd tattoos appears in her area, he catches Okiku's attention - as does something that follows after him. To save the boy, Okiku will be drawn into a journey taking both of them from American suburbia to a faraway shrine in Japan.

Monstrilio by Gerardo Sámano Córdova

When Magos loses her son Santiago to a longtime illness, she loses herself to grief and cuts out a piece of his lung. After hearing old folktales, she begins feeding it - and is shocked to find it growing and alive. Soon finding herself in charge of a hungry and bloodthirsty creature, Magos and her family must come together to care for what they can only see as a second chance for Santiago.

Semiosis by Sue Burke

A generational story following a group of humans trying to survive on a new planet, where a strange and unkowable intelligence is finding ways to use them to its whims. As the humans come across an abandoned city wrapped in the roots of a strange plant, they slowly come to the realization that mutual communication is the only path to peace and survival. Meanwhile, the alien finds itself tied all the more tightly to the growing human community.

The Stardust Grail by Yume Kitasei

Maya Hoshimoto used to be an art thief, and a damned good one to, until a disastrous heist made her retire into academia, hoping for peace and coping with an alien disease which causes her to see glimpses of the future. When an old friend tracks her down and asks her help to find and steal a legendary artifact that could save his entire species, Maya is convinced to do one last job.

Magical Girl Dandelion by Mizuho Kaeru

Manga. Tanpopo Ohanami's parents were killed by a phantom monster when she was young, but her life was saved by Shade, another phantom. Ever since then, Shade has been her friend, watching over her and keeping her safe. But then Tanpopo is revealed to be a potential magical girl, meant to fight the phantoms and protect humanity. Her and Shade are meant to be enemies, but can they instead work and fight alongside each other?

His Majesty's Dragon by Naomi Novik

It’s the height of the Napoleonic Wars, and soldiers on dragon back fight each other in the air. Will Laurence isn't a dragonrider but a sea captain, but when his ship captures a French frigate and discovers a dragon egg about to hatch in his cargo, his life changes forever when he and the dragon hatchling bond.

The Golden Compass by Philip Pullman

Middle grade. In Lyra's world, every person has a daemon: a talking animal companion who follows them throughout life. When children begin being stolen off the street, among them Lyra's friend, she must embark on a great journey to save him, taking her to the furthest north - and beyond.

A Redtail's Dream by Minna Sundberg*

Graphic novel inspired by Finnish mythology. When an irresponsible fox spirit accidentally traps an entire town in the dreamlands, it’s up to slacker Hannu and his talking, shapeshifting dog Ville to save everyone. Together the unwilling heroes must travel the dreamlands and locate the townsfolk, returning them to the waking world before the fox spirit sends them all on to death to hide his mistake. While the physical copy is all but impossible to get a hold of, the original webcomic can still be read for free here.

[twopoppies]

Gina I hope you are ok and I sent you hugs and blessings.

I have a question because I feel a bit lost in understanding it.

I thought that just familiar/closest people to Harry call him H, but I saw some comments on twitter today saying that during the band apparently Harry was more familiar than H and that why he sign it that way on his statement yesterday, even people say the opposite that because he signs with Harry and not H shows they were no more kind of close at least at the moment or present day.

It's silly but I'm just asking your opinion about it is Harry kind of more professional way to put it or ?

Hi, darling. It’s not silly. Let me start by saying people are being (as usual) disgusting to Harry. No one has the right to pick apart his statement and judge him for how he’s dealing with the death of someone very close to him.

I think Harry will these days use “Harry” in a public way—like, when he gets on stage and introduces himself: “Hi, I’m Harry”). The GP knows him as Harry Styles. But privately, we know people call him “H”. Liam has publicly spoken about him a hundred times and never referred to him as “H”. But I’d bet he did privately. Niall and Louis never refer to him as H, publicly. But I bet they do privately.

If there was any thought to him signing “Harry” instead of “H” on his post, I’d lean toward the fact that this is Harry’s public way of sharing his grief with the world. He doesn’t owe us any part of it. But given the way people are responding, I can see why he wouldn’t want to share the private side of himself. Even his name.

So people complaining about him posting a photo of Liam (doing what he loved most), as opposed to a picture of the two of them, or complaining that the words Harry used weren’t sufficiently “real” like the others’ were—thus, he probably didn’t write it, are being disgusting and are only reinforcing why Harry keeps as much of his life to himself as he can.

[searchingforgravity]

Graceland Experience - PART 10

Fandom: Elvis/Elvis (2022)

Prompt: You are more confused than ever before when you find something you can't explain. You wonder if you will ever get back to your own time, or if you are forever destined to live in the past.

TW: Kissing, mentions of unwanted sexual activity, brief sex, smut

Rating: Mature

Word Count: ~4000

A/N: Sorry for the long wait with this one! I hope you guys enjoy!

"A beam expanding in a straight line could travel several miles before the Earth’s curvature made the surface fall away from it sufficiently to prevent further damage, and then it would be ten feet across. After that, flashing emptily into space, expanding and weakening, a queer strain in the fabric of the cosmos."

Well, this book won't seem to be of much help to you. Sighing, you close the book as you lean against a tree outside. You've just started reading Pebble in the Sky by Isaac Asimov, but it seems you'll have more luck with The Sound of Thunder. This book starts of with a scientist and his apprentice accidentally creating a whole in space and time with chemicals. That is not how you got here, at least you don't think so.

Looking back to the Graceland house, you admire its beauty. You still haven't fully accepted that you're here. Or that you drunkenly hooked up with Elvis last night. The more you think about last night, the more you question if it was a good decision or not.

Was Sonny just being jealous this morning, did last night not mean anything to Elvis? You aren't sure, but you decide that's not what's important right now. Looking back into the yard, you gaze at the stables in thought. How in the world are you going to get back home?

Maybe Elvis could help you get back...but how? You've explained to him how you just kind of showed up here on his couch. Maybe it was a chemical thing, maybe the couch is the key to getting back. Maybe there was some sort of electric charge that happened when you sat down that forced you back to 1961...

You sigh in frustration. You face the fact that you just don't know how you've gotten here, and maybe you never will.

"Hey, how's it goin' out here?" a voice calls suddenly, causing you to nearly jump out of your skin as your hands move to hide your book before realizing it's just Elvis.

"You scared me," you breathe, your clutch on the book loosening.

Elvis chuckles as he comes to sit beside you, his body heat instantly making you feel less anxious. Safer.

He hums as he lightly grips the book in your hand, causing you to release it.

"Any luck with this book?"

You sigh.

"Nope. Just a scientist figuring out time travel through chemicals. I don't think that's how I got here."

He opens it as his brow furrows thoughtfully, reading the same passage you did.

"Yeah, I agree with you there," he hums as he turns the book over in his hands in thought.

You look out in the yard, feeling the late summer breeze on your face, glancing over at the stables. The grass is a vibrant green around it as you imagine what the grand horses look inside. Your mind is taken back to when you watched Elvis mount the horse from your room. How beautiful he had looked.

"I spoke to Sonny," Elvis says suddenly, pulling you out of your thoughts before you could get to wrapped up in them.

You turn your head back to him, searching his face.

"What happened?"

He hesitates for a moment, and your heart sinks. You search his face for any signs of a fight but couldn't find any. Elvis sees you searching him and waves his hand, dismissing your concern.

"It wasn't like that, we didn't fight or nothin'. But...well did you know he liked you so much?"

A shock runs through you like a lightning bolt. Your brows furrow as you can only imagine what Sonny had said to Elvis.

"I thought he might've liked me a little bit, but he never told me he did. He didn't try to make a move on me or anything."

"And you didn't- uh..." he starts, but is finding it difficult to finish his thought.

His face flushes slightly as he looks away from you for a moment.

"I didn't what?" you encourage, your curiosity peaking.

"Well, uh- you never...did you ever like Sonny?"

You're taken aback by this.

"You think I like Sonny?" you question, disbelief evident in your voice.

He instantly backtracks.

"Well, no! I mean, it's just that- you know Sonny's not a bad lookin' guy and- and he you know got you that gift and everything. He said he thought or maybe he hoped that you'd liked him," Elvis rambles, his hand coming to toy with a button on his shirt.

"I don't like Sonny, Elvis. I wasn't even planning to like you."

It comes out harsher than you intend it too, but it's the truth. You're kicking yourself for getting yourself caught in a situation with Elvis, but if you're being completely honest, you don't see a timeline where you wouldn't become involved with him given the opportunity.

"So you do like me, do you?" he questions, a small smirk appearing on his face, his embarrassment disappearing as it's replaced with a certain smugness.

"I think last night proved that well enough," you groan in feigned exasperation, waving away his cocky smile.

He hums.

"Oh, I'm not too sure, darlin'. I might need a little reminder. I can get a little insecure sometimes, you know?" he breathes as he inches his body closer to yours, turning so he faces you.

A warmth spreads down your body as he leans in, his eyes softening on yours before looking down to your lips. Reaching his hand out, he caresses your cheek and you lean into it, savouring the feeling. You feel his warm breath washing over your face, causing you to relax further as you lean into him.

"Remind me, honey," he mumbles, his lips centimeters away from yours, you can feel the buzz of electricity between them.

Your mouth opens slightly as a sigh tumbles from you. Leaning forward the slightest bit, your lips connect with his. You release a small sound of pleasure as you feel his warm, soft lips press up against yours, slow and sensual. He hums lowly as he presses his lips to yours with more intent, his body inching all the more closer as his hands come to thread through your hair, grasping your head gently to keep you from pulling away.

"It's startin' to come back to me," he groans, causing you to scoff playfully, pulling him back in for another kiss.

His hands leave your head as he roams them down your body, feeling the smooth fabric of your dress before landing on your hips, giving them a soft squeeze. Sighing into his mouth, you lean into his further, your tongue licking his bottom lip as you ask for entrance.

He instantly lets you into, groaning when he feels your tongue connect with his. Unlike last night, he lets you explore him, allowing you to take control of the kiss as he gives you access to himself. You don't think you will ever get tired of his taste on your tongue as it dances slowly with yours.

You feel yourself warming as the two of you continue, his hands coming back up to your face, slipping his tongue into your mouth now as you move closer, pressing him up against the tree as you move to sit on him, your head spinning. He moans.

"Mhh, be careful. I might have to take you to my room," he grunts, his hips lifting up to meet yours.

Your about to respond as you pull away, your cheeks flushed. You're about to say maybe he should, when out of the corner of your eye, something grabs your attention. Looking to a spot against the tree, your brows furrow. Then your blood runs cold. You pull away from Elvis, shock running through your system.

"Baby, what? Did I say somethin' wrong?" he questions, confusion on his face as he looks to you.

You shake your head, your eyes stuck on the spot on the tree.

"Elvis, look."

He follows your gaze as he turns, looking at the tree. At first, his brows furrow in puzzlement, not understanding what it is he's looking at.

"When did you do that?" he asks, looking back to you.

You heart feels like it's in your throat. There, etched into the tree is your name in bold capital letters, like a message. It doesn't look fresh, it looks like it had been there for at least a few years. Maybe longer. And it's your handwriting.

---

Bringing you inside, he tries to calm you down. Not much is helping as you sit on a chair in his room. You keep getting up, and pacing before sitting back down.

"Honey, I'm sure we can come to some sort of explanation."

"How?" you question, your gaze meeting his.

"Well, maybe there was someone else who lived here by that name years ago."

You shake your head.

"Elvis...it's my handwriting."

At this, he doesn't say anything. He can't argue with that. The slope of your lines in the wood, however old and weathered, were indeed in the same style you write. There was no denying you had written that on the tree. But How? And how long had it been there?

"Alright, well let's not freak out yet. We can-we'll figure this out," he says, but his usual confidence fails him.

"How is this even possible? I mean, that was written years ago. How can we figure this out, I don't even know what's going on!" your voice raises, fear striking you.

Would you ever make it back to your own time or will you be trapped in the past, and maybe go back further in the past? You don't even know what to think with this information.

"(Y/N), you're gonna hafta lower your voice," Elvis states, his voice dropping.

"Why?? Because I'm being hysterical? Well, I'm sorry but I have no idea what I just saw-" you start, a defensiveness creeping into your voice before he interjects.

"No! Because Sonny is in the house, that's why!" Elvis hisses, bringing you back to reality.

Shit. You've become so wrapped up in your own thoughts, you forgot that someone might hear you.

"Oh yeah, sorry," you say sheepishly as you sit back down on the chair, your eyes closing in contemplation.

You hear him sigh as he makes his way over to you, sitting on the chair opposite yours. Leaning forward in his seat, he takes your hands in his, causing you to open your eyes, looking to him for support. You need him to tell you something, anything to help you feel better.

"Right now, we don't know what it means, but if we freak out about it, that won't get us anywhere, right? So we just need to take a minute and relax."

You nod your head as you let a sigh tumble from your lips. He's right, you can't keep freaking out over everything that happens. Maybe you seeing this is a good thing. Future you must've figured out something in order to travel back in the past. At least it's not a step backwards.

At seeing you calm down a bit, he brings your hand up to his lips, kissing it affectionately.

"Good, now what do you say we relax a little bit? We can think about this crazy stuff tomorrow. I'm sure not much will change in a day," he chuckles, trying to lighten the mood.

You agree, but you aren't so sure about not much changing. You have no idea how long that tree was bear outside before your name appeared, etching into it with big, ominous letters.

---

"Oh (y/n), don't stop. That feels real nice sweetheart. I told ya' Elvis couldn't fuck you like me," Sonny groans, his eyes closed in ecstasy.

You find yourself sitting on top of Sonny, he cock out of view inside you. Bile creeps up in your stomach as you try to get off of him. You're body only latches onto him more, moving up and down on him swiftly. Your face contorts in disgust as you press against his chest, trying to push him away from you.

"Did you ever find that letter?" he groans, his hands coming to guide your hips on him.

Before you have time to question what he means, you lurch forward in bed, a cold sweat covering you. Elvis immediately stirs awake beside you, turning to face you.

"What's wrong, honey? Is it a nightmare?" Elvis croaks, his eyes opening as he tries to adjust to the darkness.

You are disoriented as it takes you a moment to remember where you are. After you and Elvis had a talk about the tree, you relaxed with him that day, ordering dinner and watching movies. He asked you to spend the night in his room with him. You said yes.

"Yes, God I'm sorry," you groan, the dream flooding your mind as you try to rid yourself of Sonny's face.

"What was it about?" he murmurs, his hands feeling for you blindly.

You hesitate as you allow him to wrap his arms around you, his lips searching yours as he pulls you back to lay down, leaving a soft peck on your lips.

"I don't remember," you lie after a long moment of silence.

His hand comes to smooth out your hair as he leaves a small kiss on your forehead. You're not sure how Elvis would react to you having a sex dream about Sonny, even if it had been a nightmare. You imagine nothing good would come out of you telling him. He doesn't push you on the subject as his arms come to wrap around your waist.

"I'm sorry baby, I wish you didn't have so many nightmares," he hums, sympathy lacing his voice as he waits for you to get comfortable in his arms.

"It's okay. I wish it would stop happening," you sigh your hands coming to thread through his hair, finding comfort in the action as he sighs softly.

"Let me hold you a while," he murmurs, sleep suddenly riddling his voice as you imagine how tired he is.

You turn around in his arms as he glues his chest to your back, his hand brushing the hair from your neck so he can leave a gentle kiss on it. You sigh as you lean back into him, trying to get comfortable.

He hums softly as he snuggles his face into your hair.

"I'm not gonna let anything happen to ya', you know that right?" he murmurs, the words getting lost in your hair.

"Okay," you whisper, weaker than you intend as you lace your fingers through his.

Bringing your hand to his lips, he gently kisses your hand. Looking into the dark room, you listen as his breathing pattern becomes slower, until he starts snoring softly. You only wish it could be that easy for you. As you look into the darkness, a lump starts to form in your throat. Why is this happening?

You snuggle your body back into his, trying to get some sleep, but you get the feeling you won't be getting much of it.

---

Waking up in the morning, you are surprised you were able to fall back to sleep. Stretching, you look over to see Elvis still sleeping, a peaceful expression on his face as his palm rests on his chest, his other reaching out in your direction. You admire his face as you scoot closer to him, his outstretched arm instantly wrapping around you. You smile as you see his eye flutter open at your movements, instantly looking into yours.

"Good morning," you breathe, snuggling into him further.

He smiles.

"Good morning, sweet heart. Were you able to get some sleep last night?" he rasps, his morning voice causing a warm feeling to surround you.

His grip tightens around you.

"Yeah, I got a little sleep," you nod, your eyes traveling to his lips as he moistens them with his tongue.

"That's good to hear, baby," he mumbles, his eyes drooping as he looks down at you.

He looks at your lips before dipping his eyes down to your chest which is pressed up against him. You don't have to read his mind to know what he's thinking about. He shifts on the bed as he looks up to your eyes again.

"It's nice to have you in my bed," he mumbles softly, his hands coming to cup your face and his lips dip down to yours, kissing you softly.

You hum into the kiss as you lean into him, a pooling quickly forming in your core.

“It’s nice being in your bed,” you respond, your hands roaming his body before softly landing on his bare chest, feeling his body react to your touch.

“You like being in my bed do you?” He mumbles, that smirk forming on his face. “I wonder if there’s anything else you would enjoy doing with me…in my bed.”

You hum in thought.

“I can think of a few things.”

He laughs softly, his grip tightening on your face before pulling you to him, his lips connecting with yours. He kisses you slow and sensually, with intent. You sigh into the kiss as you bring yourself closer to him, softly licking his bottom lip as you ask for entrance.

Immediately he opens his mouth to you. As your tongue makes its way into his mouth, the kiss is unlike the ones yesterday. This time, he let’s you take the lead as you explore him, your tongue swirling around his with curiosity. He groans as his hands Travel their way down to your waist.

Wanting to be closer to him, you move your body as you sit on him, your core coming to rest on top of his growing erection. Cautiously, your swirl your hips around him, earning a groan from his lips as he brings his hands from your waist to rest on your thighs.

Grinding down on him again, a small whine erupts from you as his erection brushes against your clit in such a way it has you breaking the kiss, your head coming to rest on his shoulder.

“Tell me what makes you feel good, baby. I wanna hear you make that sound again,” he groans, his hips coming to meet yours as you grind on him once more.

You blush. Never had a man you’d been with put in the amount of effort to make you feel good that Elvis has, just by asking you what you like in bed. You’re not sure how to respond. He notes your hesitation.

“I’ll tell you what. Why don’t I try a few things, and you tell me what feels good for you,” he suggests, the rasp in his voice going straight to your core.

“Okay,” you whisper, breathless.

Bringing his hands back to your face, he leans up in bed, capturing your lips in his once more. You sigh at the taste of him. Humming, he gently works his tongue into your mouth, swirling his tongue around your slowly, with intent. You moan quietly.

After a moment of this, his tongue retreats back into his mouth, his teeth biting on your bottom lip softly, tugging. You moan louder as you grind down on him again, the feeling adding to the wetness in your panties.

“Did you like that?” He mumbles breathlessly, his lips coming to kiss your cheek.

“Yes, I liked the biting,” you whisper, your cheeks flushing at the admission.

He hums quietly at this.

“Good girl.”

The comment goes straight to your core. Your a little embarrassed with how turned on you are, you’re not sure why. Hiding your face in his neck, you kiss it softly. His hands find their way to your hair, leaning his neck into your lips as a sigh escapes his mouth.

“Does it make you feel good when I call you that?”

Your face feels like it’s on fire.

“Yes,” you mumble, the word getting lost on his neck.

He hums again as his hands travel down your back and to the front of your body, softly cupping your breasts. You grind on him again, and this time he meets your thrust, his erection having grown more prominent and a groan erupts from him. The sensation of his clothed cock has your eyes rolling back as you realize the only thing separating your bodies are yours and his underwear, your nightgown having ridden up to your waist.

“I wanna try more, baby,” he grunts, his thumbs flicking your nipples, causing a sigh to escape your lips.

You pull your face out from his neck as you look at him, his eyes blazing with desire. You nod your head as you agree before he connects his lips to yours once more.

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[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I'm not sure if you've answered a question like this before but do you think Sebek would feel less insecure about his human-fae heritage if he became acquainted (or even friends) with someone similar at NRC? Or would he just end up projecting his own struggles onto them?

It'd be a different story if he grew up with one in Briar Valley, but I'm not caught up on the lore enough to know how common mixed fae-humans are there 😅

I don’t think it would make a significant difference.

Firstly, the impression I get is that mixed fae-humans are rare, since fae are unlikely to mingle outside of their kind (pixies and Briar Valley fae behave similarly and are suspicious of non-fae; only the Dwarves seem to be friendly with humans). The chances of Sebek being even finding someone of his kind are low. Recall too that nocturnal fae (which Sebek is descended from) have beef with diurnal fae, so even if Sebek were to run into a mixed fae like him, he might still clash with them on the basis of that difference in background.

Another point I’d like to make is that one person for like a year or so may not be “enough” to totally change Sebek’s mind. Think about it. The way you’re describing it, Sebek has still grown up in Briar Valley his entire life and comes to NRC still carrying the attitudes he grew up with and the experiences of being looked down on by full fae. One encounter at school won’t be sufficient to counteract what is basically a lifetime’s worth of isolation and self-loathing. That just isn’t how character growth works; it’s a steady thing that you have to actively work toward.

As an example, Epel does not instantly shake off his views on traditional gender roles in book 5 just because he met Vil and lived under his dorm. Exposure alone isn’t “enough”. Epel has to be challenged and shown the error of his ways, as well as actually gain a respect for Vil’s perspective and then learn to overcome his own prejudices. A similar thing happens in book 7 when Sebek is confronted by the bigotry of his grandfather, which reflects his own attitudes towards his human peers. Again, he is being challenged and forced to face these unsavory aspects of himself and sees how that shows in others. It’s a process far more complex than simply meeting and/or befriending someone like you and realizing on your own, “oh hey, maybe I was wrong”. Sebek has to put in the work to change.

Looking at Sebek’s current circle also doesn’t yield any… hopeful results? He looks up to Lilia so much yet also puts up resistance and ignores advice from him to be more kind to non-fae. Note also that Sebek, despite being friends with Silver (a full-blooded human), he still holds a bad opinion of humans in general. It didn’t make him magically not racist or more understanding of humans when so much of his socialization fell outside of that purview. If anything, Sebek just acts like Silver is “one of the good ones” rather than his friendship with Silver making him more accepting of other humans.

Finally, I don’t think just the presence or the befriending of another person like him would change Sebek by itself. It would depends a lot on what type of person that other guy is. Who knows, maybe they’re just as bigoted and agree with his thoughts. It could also result in a scenario where Sebek feels comfortable staying in his own little echo chamber and refuses to venture beyond that. In another case, Sebek could very easily warp his views to confirm the narrative that already exists in his head. He could very easily tell himself “yes, this person is fine because they, too, have fae blood in them”. (Think of how many bigots use the “but I have a [insert marginalized group here] friend so I can’t be [X]ist!” excuse to justify their own terrible stances.) There are many ways this could go wrong or perpetuate what he already believes in. Confirmation bias is a thing!