#this is well known breed history
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shetlanders: we want to name it collie, you know, like the sheep?
collie fanciers: ewww no :(
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𝐑𝐮𝐭 𝐒𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧
Even after almost a century in Hell, Alastor refused to address the primal urge that ensnared his body because, according to him, his efforts were fruitless—a measly handjob. You kept your lips sealed in a fine line as you pressed yourself against his back, but your chest vibrated with an amused hum anyway. You couldn’t help it. How could he not know that only one of his kind could grant him release from the dreadful ache that overcame him every year?
“So, you’ve never thought to ask for help?” You asked him as your arms came around his waist to unbuckle his belt. “From someone like—“
“I have, from Mimzy,” Alastor interrupted you, his eyes flitting down to observe the way your fingers pried his belt open with a clink. “It didn’t work.”
You were the first doe he had ever met, and while a small part of him instinctively yearned for you, he refused to acknowledge it because once upon a time, he swallowed his pride. And what came out of it? Nothing. Nothing good. Nothing but disappointment and a friend who continued to pester him without a singular ounce of shame, promising a “better performance” that would surely leave him satisfied. What a sleazeball, but he always let her down gently due to their history.
“Hell’s an unforgivable place, you know,” You said as you unfastened his slacks. “If we could just *do it* with anybody, would Hell really be Hell?”
“I suppose it wouldn’t be,” Alastor simply said, his hands anxiously flexing at his sides. “But what are you getting at—oh, why does that feel different?”
Because you were a doe and he was a buck. It only made sense that when you dipped your hand into his briefs and gently swiped your thumb against the head of his cock, smearing his precum down his length, he would find relief for the first time since he found out he was damned for eternity. But to Alastor, the revelation was strange. He had known you for, what, less than a year? So how could he feel relieved being touched in the most intimate of areas by a practical stranger?
“Mimzy is no doe,” You told him. His cock was thick, but you managed to wrap your hand around the base anyway. “And in a good way orrr?”
“Yes, in a good way,” Alastor let out a small huff, one that oozed relief at the experimental pump you gave him. “And yet it’s still not enough.”
Of course your hand wasn’t going to be enough, but you selfishly indulged yourself by stroking his cock a few more times anyway, memorizing the soft, velvety skin of his length within your palm before urging him to make himself at home on your bed. You could feel his muscles stiffen against your chest in uncertainty, but eventually, his shoulders sagged and a resigned ‘Very well, then,’ seeped past his lips. It was rut season, after all, and you too were aching for a breeding.
“When we’re… *done*,” Alastor tentatively started as your bed dipped with a soft creak. “Is that it? Or must we seek relief for the entirety of it?”
“Unfortunately, it’s the latter.”
“That is what I feared.”
It wouldn’t be long before you had Alastor, the Radio Demon, splayed out on your sheets, his chest heaving with trepidation as you crawled onto his lap and positioned yourself over his cock. And while he only shrugged off his coat and slipped off his shoes for the sake of his comfort, he looked absolutely breathtaking beneath you. He was being so compliant and submissive, and as you hiked up your skirt and pulled your panties to the side, the gasp he let out was otherworldly.
That is what he feared—the obvious gratification that fell over your soft features as you planted your palms on his chest and sunk down onto his cock, and all because you had such a powerful overlord grasping your hips with a vulnerability that even the least perceptive of sinners could recognize. Not the act of having sex with you. No, not at all. As your walls accommodated every bit of him, molding to his girth, molding to his length, he realized he quite liked that.
But you didn’t know that. And while his statement admittedly dealt a blow to your ego, you continued to roll your hips in a steady rhythm to milk Alastor’s cock for all of what it was worth because you needed him just as much as he needed you. Not because you had reduced him into something weak or pathetic as he assumed, and your lips only curled up in obvious gratification at how perfectly his cock filled the empty space in your walls.
“But you need me,” You gasped as he thrusted up and tried to match your pace, the pleasure clouding his judgement.
“That is not what I meant,” Alastor let out a groan as he caught you by surprise, your back hitting the mattress. “You, ma biche, were made for me.”
Your eyes flew open as he wrapped his arms around the back of your knees and practically laid himself on top of you, his face pushing into the crook of your neck. But it was the way his cock drove impossibly deeper into your cunt with the sole purpose of painting your womb with thick, hot ropes of his cum that had your lips parting with a long whine. You were nowhere near done, your swollen clit throbbing against his pelvis in longing, but neither was Alastor.
“I don’t know what has overcome me,” Alastor admitted as he moved his head down to kiss at your pebbled nipples through your shirt.
“But you?” He paused so he could caress your bud with the flat of his tongue, making your walls clamp around his cock.
“You aren’t leaving my sight until I’ve managed to defy God by filling you up with my fawns.”
You wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders and weaved your hands in his hair, tugging at his ears with a long whine as his claws suddenly pierced your thighs. He then gave your breasts one last kiss before rubbing his cheek on whatever part of you was exposed, completely and utterly taken by his rut-addled mind. But you? You were still present. And as he abused your cervix with the head of his cock, you wondered what would happen after rut season was over.
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x you#alastor x reader#alastor x reader smut#alastor x you#alastor x you smut#alastor smut#rut season with a friend
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camping [pilot!harry x teacher!yn]
synopsis: It’s the 1950s. Harry and Y/N leave the air base to go on a camping trip in July and their feelings are all over the place.
word count: 13.2k (!?)
contains: friends to lovers, opposites attract, violence, nightmares, flirting, smoking, fluff, smut (breeding kink, size kink, she's on top, cockwarming *if you squint*), forced proximity
this is part 2 of the aviator, you can read part 1 here
. . .
“Leave me alone Harry!” Y/N stormed several paces in front of him, hugging her arms around herself to try and keep herself warm.
“Birdy, c’mon now, it’s not what y’ think it is.” Harry kept his distance behind her but had been following her home since she stormed off after she’d caught him with her housemate, Nancy.
“Quit calling me that! And will you stop following me?” She spun round and he immediately froze in his steps.
“Promised I’d walk y’ home,” He shrugged, “Not gonna let y’ walk home in the dark alone.”
“I’d probably be better off,” Y/N huffed, crossing her arms.
“Will y’ let me explain?” Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair. Y/N opened her mouth to say something but he carried on talking, “I won’t quit following y’ if that’s what y’ gonna say and the view of the back of y’ head is just as pretty as the front so there’s no way y’ gonna stop me. I just… Will you let me explain? Please?”
Y/N scoffs like she can’t believe what she’s hearing right now. What would it take for him to take a message and leave her be? “You’re not used to hearing the word no are you?”
“I respect it but doesn’t mean I’m gonna stop trying. God, especially not with you.” Every part of him seemed serious. Y/N’s shoulders dropped and he took it as a sign to continue, “Me and Nancy we have history tha’s for sure,” He started and the words made Y/N’s chest ache, “But we only slept together a couple times before Christmas tha’s all. She came out and found me smoking and I realised she was a ‘lil drunk. I tried to pull her off me but she wasn’t having it, said she saw me outside with y’ and got upset.”
Y/N frowned, unsure of whether to believe him or not, “Listen, I know you’ve heard things about me but-” He dug his heel into the ground and chuckled lightly, “I ain’t ever felt the way I did back there when I kissed y’ Y/N and I’m not jus’ saying that.”
Y/N felt some of the anger dissipate from her body, replaced by pure frustration. She hadn't come to Offutt to get tangled up in a mess with a man she barely knew, yet here she was. Nancy's revelation about having her sights set on a man hit Y/N like a ton of bricks. If she had known it was Harry, she might never have kissed him in the first place. She hardly knew Harry beyond their brief interactions and the hearsay from her housemates. How could she trust him? Yet, despite her doubts, there was one undeniable truth: the kiss they had shared lingered vividly in her mind. The taste of peppermint and cigarettes still clung to her lips, a tangible reminder of their brief encounter. It was a moment that now intertwined her with him in a way she wasn't expecting.
Y/N huffed, “And what? I’m just meant to believe you now. Take your word for it and run into your arms and kiss you again?”
“That’d be nice, yeah.” Harry smiled, his hands in the pockets of his trousers.
Y/N shook her head, trying to process everything Harry had just said. Despite her frustration and confusion, there was a part of her that wanted to believe him. She knew deep down that she couldn't deny the chemistry they shared during that kiss, but she also couldn't ignore the uncertainty punching at her gut.
"Harry, I... I don't know what to think," Y/N admitted, her voice softer now, lacking the edge of anger from before. "I want to trust you, but it's hard after everything that's happened and what’s been said. I-I don’t know you that well is all."
Harry stepped closer, his expression earnest. "I understand, Birdy. And I don't expect you to trust me blindly. But hey maybe we could start as friends, get to know each other better before anything else, if that would make y' comfortable."
Y/N raised an eyebrow, considering his suggestion. The idea of starting as friends seemed more sensible, given the circumstances. "Friends?"
"Yeah, friends," Harry confirmed a hopeful glint in his eyes. "No expectations, just getting to know each other without any pressure."
Y/N nodded slowly, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Alright, I like that idea.”
Harry grinned, relieved that she seemed to be willing to give him a chance. "Well, you need more of ‘em.”
Y/N’s smile disappeared, “I do not! I have plenty of friends.”
“The girls at the nursery don’t count,” Harry smirks, “And neither does Elise.”
“Whatever,” Y/N muttered, spinning on her heel to continue her journey home. She heard Harry’s footsteps jogging up to meet her and was surprised to feel his jacket being placed over her shoulders.
Harry put an arm around her and kissed the top of her head. Y/N’s heart stuttered, “Friends don’t do that you know.” She grumbled, pretending to act grumpy around him in hopes it would hide the fact that she was most definitely swooning inside.
“Oh? I do it with my friends all the time. Sometimes I kiss them on the lips too, we can try if y’ want-” Y/N looked up at him, glaring, “Alright then, another time.”
Y/N let Harry walk her the remainder of the way home, feeling a little more at peace with the fact she would be welcoming him into her life, even if it was just as friends for now. She hoped it would be enough to get to know him and eventually, she’d trust him enough to allow their relationship to blossom into something more and hopefully sometime soon because when Harry had left her on the doorstep of her house, she knew she’d be dreaming of that kiss every time she looked at him.
Y/N closed the door as gently as she could, pressing her forehead against the wooden frame. She let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding before walking into the kitchen where Nancy was standing, “How’d you get home so quickly?” Y/N asked, unable to meet her hard stare.
“Harry must have taken you the long way home.” She shrugged pushing her chair back from the table, the legs of her chair scraping against the tiled ground.
“I-I didn’t know Harry was the guy you were talking about Nancy,” Y/N said truthfully.
“Would it have made any difference?” Nancy asked, a bite to her tone.
Y/N sighed, “All this was never my decision. Harry asked me to the dance, I-I didn't know it was going to be such a big deal.”
“Harry loves attention from any girl who bats her eyelashes and twirls her hair.” Nancy glared, “You don’t make the exception.”
Y/N straightened her shoulders, “What if I do?” She wasn’t going to allow herself to be belittled by another woman over a man she had just met.
Nancy snickered, “Are you that entitled?”
“Harry’s smart enough to make his own decisions Nancy and I’m not going to be involved in whatever petty game you think this is. Not only is it up to him to decide who he likes but it’s my decision too and if he’s not with anybody then I can decide whether I should be allowed to get to know him or not.” Y/N declared.
Nancy narrowed her eyes, “I’m not trying to compete with you but I’d be careful if I were you. If you’re planning on standing so close to the fire prepared to get burnt. Those Styles boys have their things going on. Harry hasn't the faintest idea of what to do with a girl outside of the bedroom. I've known him long enough for that.”
“Maybe you don’t know him that well.”
“Maybe,” Nancy shrugged, “Maybe you can tell me all about it when you realise he’s not all he says he is.”
“Why do you want him if you have no faith in him?” Y/N asked.
“I said I had my eye on him, not that I planned on settling down with him. Every girl wants to sleep with him and not only because he’s Offutt’s best pilot, he’s the only man who knows what he’s doing.” Nancy stands from her chair, “I won’t compete but I don’t particularly enjoy being proven wrong.” She moved past her, leaving Y/N standing in the kitchen.
. . .
As winter turned to spring and spring into summer, Y/N and Harry's friendship seemed to blossom with the seasons. They had developed a type of bond that neither of them had with anybody else and through it they learnt more about themselves and each other. Ever since the night they began their relationship, there was never a moment where Y/N wasn’t seen with the brunette aviator walking beside her.
Even Harry’s brothers had come to enjoy Y/N's company. Somehow she had taken on this maternal presence within their family dynamic that none of the siblings had ever really had before. Sonny had taken a particular liking to having Y/N around, enjoying the free time he had now that Y/N would sometimes volunteer to put Elise to bed in the evenings.
Along with Harry’s brothers, also came Y/N’s housemates Molly and Patsy. She had become good friends with them too in the last few months and now she finally had her own little girl group to hang out with (they’d often include Elise in that group too).
The group had become their own little, dysfunctional family on Offutt.
Even though their friendship was meant to be the start of something more, Y/N and Harry hadn’t spoken much about that night at the dance since it had happened. Even with Harry’s flirtatious teasing from time to time, Y/N couldn’t help but feel that something had happened between them like this friendship had created a strange liminal space between them that held so many questions. She loved the current dynamic - the comfort everyone shared, even amidst their occasional bickering. It made her wonder if this was how it was supposed to be, and perhaps Harry thought so too.
However, her feelings for Harry continued to grow stronger with every passing day. She would dream of the kiss they shared and wake up with a strong ache in her chest at the idea that it would never happen again. Every day she tried to coax herself into talking to him about how she felt and every day she’d get distracted or put off by doubts and the voice in the back of her head warning her, telling her enough time had passed that maybe Harry didn’t have feelings for her anymore which is why he never bought them up.
It was July now and the girls were sitting eating breakfast in the kitchen. Y/N was nibbling on a piece of slightly burnt toast as Molly rambled on about how busy her day was going to be down at the hairdresser with her hair rollers still in her hair.
Opposite Y/N at the table sat Nancy, who had hardly spoken since waking up. She was dressed to the nines, her hair perfectly curled, and her uniform immaculately pressed. The tension between the two girls lingered from the dance night. It was clear Nancy was prepared to do anything for Harry's attention, even if he didn't see it. While Nancy seemed distant, Y/N tried to keep things friendly, despite the awkwardness between them. They had to live with each other after all.
Y/N had seen Nancy and Harry alone together a few times and even if it filled her with an insatiable amount of jealousy, she wouldn’t allow herself to get involved with whatever went on between them. This wasn’t a competition she was taking part in, her feelings were her own and so were Nancy's. What mattered was her own relationship with Harry because it had slowly become the most important thing in her life.
The front door burst open, Sonny’s voice boomed down the hallway, “Good morning ladies!”
“Is anyone ever going to teach those boys how to knock?” Molly grumbled, standing from the table to lean against the kitchen counter, “I oughta start locking that front door before I go to bed.”
Y/N looked down to hide her smile as three grown men, dressed in overalls and white t-shirts walked into the room, one of them holding the small toddler in his arms. “Give me the baby!” Patsy launched from her chair and reached for Elise, smothering the girl in kisses.
“Can I have a turn, Patsy?” Sonny asked, batting his eyelashes playfully.
“You wish,” Patsy glared.
“Morning Nancy,” George grinned, only to receive a curt nod in return, “Good morning George, y’ sure are looking mighty fine in tha’ uniform of yours,” George remarked, his voice slightly mocking, delivered in a high pitch to tease her.
Nancy stood from her seat, glaring up at the tall brother in front of her, “Good morning George, do you mind getting out of my way? I’ve got work to do, unlike some people.”
“How could y’ say that? I’m always working,” He argued.
“Cigarettes and arm wrestling during work hours do not count as working.” Nancy picked her bag up from under her chair.
“Know y’ like watching though darlin’.” He smirked and Nancy scoffed, shoving past him and leaving the house.
“Y’ oughta be careful with that one George,” Molly smirked, taking out a cigarette and offering one to him.
“She’s all good,” He shrugged, his eyes on the seat Nancy had been sitting in.
Y/N’s smile dropped when someone snatched the piece of toast she was eating from her hand. She looked up and was met with green eyes looking down at her, a lazy grin on the face she saw every day, “Hi birdy,” His voice was always deeper than usual in the mornings
“Hi Harry,” Y/N grinned.
He grabbed the empty chair that Nancy had been sitting in and lifted it from the tiled floor to sit next to her. His eyes flitted around her face, and the corner of his lips turned upwards, “You’ve got jam-” He reached his thumb out and wiped away the jam from the corner of her lips. Y/N’s cheeks tinged pink, “There y’ go.”
“Thanks,” Y/N murmured, looking away from his intense gaze.
“No problem,” He smirked, “Y’ look beautiful by the way.”
Harry said the same thing almost every morning and Y/N never failed to blush whenever he told her the compliment. “I only woke up thirty minutes ago, I haven’t even run a brush through my hair.”
“And you still look beautiful. It’s unfair birdy, truly it is.” He sighed, shaking his head dramatically.
Y/N giggled, “You’re such an idiot.”
“So what brings you boys here so early? Ran out of food back home?” Molly asked, reaching for Elise since apparently, it was her time to hold her.
“We’re going off base with some of the guys later to the town to buy camping gear for the trip,” Sonny explained, taking a sip of black coffee from Patsy’s mug.
“What happened to the stuff from last year?” Molly quirked a brow, “It was perfectly fine when we left it.”
Harry reached for Y/N’s hand and mindlessly played with her fingers as people spoke. George shrugs, “There’s more of us going this year so either way we need more tents.”
"What are you talking about?" She asked, turning to Harry for an explanation.
All eyes turned to her, then to Harry, their expressions puzzled. George's frown deepened. "You never told her?"
Y/N's gaze remained fixed on Harry, waiting for his response as he dropped her hand onto his lap.
"Every year on the last week of July, a huge group of us go camping down at Harpers Lake," Sonny explained. "It's a five-hour hike, and we camp out for two nights. We're all going this year, and we thought Harry over there already told you about it, but clearly he didn't."
Y/N's eyes narrowed slightly. "I thought Molly would have told you," Harry admitted, scratching the back of his neck.
Y/N's eyes darted around at everyone's faces as they looked at her expectantly, "I-I don't know if I'll get time off at the nursery," Y/N stuttered, feeling a wave of uncertainty wash over her.
"Hey, I'm sure someone'll cover for you," Harry reassured her with a shrug. "If you don't go, I won't go either."
"Harry," she huffed, unable to resist the warmth in his eyes. "What about Elise? Who will take care of her?"
"Elise is coming, of course," Sonny piped in. "You think the Styles go anywhere without each other?"
Y/N glanced at Harry, her heart softening at his earnest expression. He gently picked up her hand again, squeezing her fingers lightly as if to persuade her to come with them. Harry's gaze held hers, his voice soft but determined. "If you’re worried about skipping work, it’ll be fine. We'll figure that out together, Birdy. I promise."
“I hate camping,” Y/N confessed, the corner of his lips quirking.
“But y’ haven’t camped with me yet.” He smirked as if doing anything with him was the solution to everything.
Y/N’s shoulders sagged, “Okay, fine.” She relented, falling into their persuasion. Though the idea of camping was her worst nightmare, being with Harry off-base seemed to make it bearable.
Eventually, everyone left to start their day of work. Y/N took Elise into her arms and made her way down to the nursery, “Y/N!” Harry called, she turned and saw him running up to them from down the road. “Y’ not mad at me are you?”
Y/N frowned, “Why would I be mad at you?”
“Y’ know,” He stood straight, scratching the back of his neck, something he always did when he was nervous or about to say something sincere, “Because I didn’t tell you about the camping trip. I was meant to but every time I’m with y’ all the things I plan to say just seem to slip from my mind.”
Y/N’s face softens, “No I’m not mad at you Harry. I mean, I wish I could have found out sooner, but if you say it’ll be fine, I’ll believe you.”
Harry grinned, a dimple carving into his cheek, “Y’ believe me huh?” He took a step forward until he stood directly in front of her.
Y/N’s heart stuttered at the proximity, “Y-yeah, I do.” She murmurs.
Harry’s hand reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, “Y’ might be the only one.” He whispers his breath minty from the gum he was chewing on.
His eyes darted to her lips and then back up again. Even though they were outside, Y/N felt the oxygen slipping from the space around her until a tiny, chubby hand swatted Harry’s face out of the way, “No!” Elise yells and starts to ramble.
Harry’s expression shifted, his features softening with amusement. He grabs Elise’s hand and starts pressing kisses to the inside of her palm, “What do y’ mean no? Y’ don’t like it when I speak to my best friend? ‘S that because you’re my best friend Elise?” Harry teases, pretending to bite her small hand.
Y/N giggles, “It seems I’m always competing with somebody for your attention.” She jokes but Harry’s smile falters.
“Y’ don’t need to do that,” He murmurs, “Y’ too special to me to do that.”
Elise carried on rambling as Y/N remained silent, surprised by Harry’s words. That classic, flirtatious grin reappeared once more on Harry's face as he pressed a quick kiss to Elise’s cheek and then Y/N’s too, “I’ll see you later, baby girl.” He said to Elise.
He walked backwards, eyes fixed on Y/N, “I’ll see both my best girl’s later!” He winked and then turned around.
“Your brother is stupid,” Y/N said to Elise.
“Ha, Ha!” Elise pointed at her brother who disappeared around the corner, calling him the name she always called him since she couldn’t say his full name properly yet.
“Ha Ha indeed,” Y/N sighed, making her way to the nursery.
. . .
The camping trip had been a tradition in Offutt for the last ten years or so. Harry had been with his brothers ever since he had come to Offutt. He mostly enjoyed it for the fact that he got to spend time away from the Air Base. He didn’t do very much other than smoke cigarettes and maybe sleep with one or two people if he felt like it.
This time though felt different. Harry had never been this excited about a camping trip before, especially not with Y/N. It had been ages since he anticipated anything, but the thought of spending two entire nights with the girl who had completely transformed his life was exhilarating enough to have him willingly sleeping in a tent out in the wilderness.
They were into the final hour of the hike to Harper’s Lake. The sun was beating down on their faces and Y/N and Harry were way behind the rest of the group. Y/N had been huffing and puffing ever since the halfway point of the trail. It had kept Harry rather amused during what was often a long and boring walk.
Harry walked in front wearing a white vest and cargo trousers, an unlit cigarette dangling between his lips and a silver dog tag around his neck. Y/N was walking behind him, beating bushes with a big stick as she walked by them.
“Y’ keep beating up those bushes back there darling and they’ll start shouting back to y’.” Harry smiled to himself as he heard her mumbles. “You dawdling back there?”
“No,” Y/N snaps, “I do not dawdle thank you.” Her feet were slipping. She didn’t have decent shoes to wear and Harry had already had to stop twice to put bandages on both her knees which was probably why they were so behind from the rest of the group.
“Why couldn’t we just fly? You’re a pilot Harry, can’t you go get us a plane?”
“Y’ want me to get a military plane to fly us to a lake so that y’ don’t have to get all hot and bothered 'cause you’re walking, is that right birdy?” Harry holds back a laugh.
“Well, I don’t see the point in flying planes if you’re not gonna use them.” She mumbles.
Harry stops and turns around to look at her. She’s wearing a shirt that’s too big for her and shorts on her small legs. He let her borrow his flight cap so she didn’t get sunburnt but it was too big for her head so it covered her eyes. “Are y’ asking for a lift up the hill?”
Y/N fell silent, her gaze drifting past him to the peak of the hill. She nodded quietly. Harry chuckled, dropping his bag to the ground. Turning around, he squatted and gestured behind him, arms outstretched. "Hop on, birdy."
“Are you sure? What if I'm too heavy.” Y/N says.
“I’m only offering once so I’d make the most of it if I were you.” He teased and waited for her to jump on his back.
He heard her feet tread along the ground before stopping behind him. She put her body weight onto him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, “Y’ won’t drop me, will you? Because it’s not gonna be funny if you do.”
“Never,” he promised, lifting himself off the ground. Y/N wrapped her legs around his waist and he picked up his bag off the floor. “How’s the view up there birdy?”
“Pretty,” she said, her lips close to his ear.
“I bet,” he said to himself before tracking up the hill.
The lake glimmered in the sunlight, surrounded by birch and willow trees. Y/N had never seen something so beautiful before as she looked over Harry’s head to see where they’d be staying the next few nights. Her feet hit the floor as Harry released her from his grip. There were around thirty people from the base who had come along on the trip and were already deciding where they were going to set up their camping spots.
Y/N glanced around to spot her friends only to find them already bickering with each other in a shaded spot away from everyone else. Patsy and Molly were sharing a tent, while Sonny and George were setting up theirs with Elise. Harry had his own tent, and Y/N had bought a separate one as well. “Hey Patsy, have you seen my tent?” Y/N glanced around the floor where everyone had thrown their bags.
“No, I thought you would have taken it.” Patsy shrugged.
“Me too,” Y/N huffed, looking through her backpack to see if she had packed the small tent she had bought.
“Have you lost it?” Molly asked. Y/N frantically shoved some of the bags out of the way, hoping to spot it somewhere, until the realisation hit her like a ton of bricks.
It was sitting on the couch in the living room of her house, five hours away from where they were camping.
“You left it at home?” Sonny burst out laughing, Y/N’s cheeks flushing red.
“It’s not funny Sonny,” Patsy whacked him on the shoulder, “Where’s she meant to sleep?"
“With me.” A voice spoke, and Y/N turned around to see Harry standing with aviator sunglasses covering his eyes.
“W-what?” Y/N stuttered as if she couldn’t believe what was happening.
“Well unless y’ wanna sleep with Elise, Birdy, the only other option is with me.” He shrugs as if it was no big deal that he was offering her to sleep in his one-man tent.
“I-I can sleep with Elise,” She noticed how no one was saying anything or coming up with other ideas for her sleeping arrangement. She could have sworn she saw her two housemates giggling in the corner of her eye.
"And I could sleep with Elise too, but you know why I don’t?" Harry chuckled, shaking his head. "It's because all three of my siblings seem to have inherited a gene that I missed out on. Trust me, Birdy, you don’t wanna sleep in a tent with a snoring swing band the whole night."
Harry reached out and gently tugged her hand, “We’ve slept in the same room before.”
“Yeah but you slept on the floor,” She crossed her arms, trying to think of any other way she could sleep without having to share a small space with the guy she had feelings for. Y/N glanced around at her friends who immediately went about fixing their own tents as if they hadn’t stopped to watch the whole ordeal. She sighed, “Fine.”
Y/N brushed past Harry. He quickly snatched off his hat she was wearing and placed it on his own head, grinning, “It’ll be fun,”
By the time they had set up the tent, it had dawned on Y/N exactly what she had agreed to. The tent was barely large enough for one person, let alone two, and with Harry's muscular frame, she couldn't fathom how they were meant to sleep without being practically on top of each other.
As Y/N unravelled her sleeping bag, Harry’s head peaked through the entrance, “A few of us are borrowing bikes to head to the nearest gas station to buy things for the barbecue if y’ wanna come.”
Y/N nodded, “Just give me a second and I’ll be right out.” He nodded and paused as though he wanted to say something else before shaking his head and leaving. Y/N released a sigh and pushed back her hair wondering how she even got into this mess in the first place.
Harry was standing by two bikes, holding Elise in his arms, “A few of ‘em already went ahead.”
“I didn’t know Elise was gonna be here,” Y/N cooed and pinched the two-year-old's chubby cheek. Harry’s eyes warmed before he placed her in the basket of his bicycle. “Is that safe?” Y/N frowned.
“Course it is,” He shrugged.
Soon they were riding side by side with Elise squealing in the basket of Harry’s bike, her small fingers gripping onto the front of the basket as the wind blew through her hair. Y/N’s cheeks hurt from smiling so much as she watched the two year old laugh and scream with excitement.
Eventually they pulled over into the gas station. Y/N held Elise as Harry grabbed the things they needed for the barbecue, “Do y’ wanna ice cream Elise?” Y/N gasped, taking her to the freezer to pick out an ice cream.
Elise squealed and babbled incoherently as she picked the most colourful ice pop in the whole freezer. Y/N picked out two for herself and Harry to have since it was so hot out and they still needed to ride back to the campsite again.
They sat under a grouping of trees, Elise inbetween Harry’s legs as he helped her eat her ice pop. He’d have to wipe her chin every now and then with how sloppy she was when eating, “There y’ go baby girl, that ice pop ain’t going anywhere,” Harry chuckled as Elise gripped the ice pop in two hands.
Y/N smiled to herself as she watched the two of them interact, Elise’s adorable antics continuing to amuse them both. She couldn’t help but think about how strangely normal this all felt. Despite the little time they had known the Styles’ siblings, it felt like they had known each other for much longer. The ease with which they connected, the laughter shared between them—it all felt so natural, as if they were meant to be together in that moment.
Harry’s eyes lingered on Y/N’s face with a hint of a smile on his lips, “What’s going on in that head of yours Birdy?”
Y/N smiled, “Nothing, I’m just happy.”
Harry looked surprised, “Y’ are?”
“Yeah,” She nodded, “I am. Are you?”
Harry thought for a moment, “Yeah Birdy,” He grinned, dimples popping, “I am.”
Their exchanged smiles lingered for a moment longer before Harry stood up, “We should probably start heading back before the sun goes down.”
“Yeah,” Y/N sighs, she could have stayed right there in that moment for a little longer but she knew they needed to get back to feed the others.
They picked up their bikes off the floor and began their journey back, stealing glances at each other when the other one wasn’t looking. Y/N’s heart fluttered everytime he caught her eye and looked away bashfully.
After eating and staying out to talk to her friends, Y/N was already ready for bed and wrapped up in her sleeping bag. She was wearing her pyjamas and an eye mask on top of her head. She wanted to make sure she was the first person in the tent so that she could be the first one to claim her space.
She tried to relax but her heart was racing when she heard Harry’s voice from outside as he said goodnight to his little sister in the tent next door. Y/N randomly picked up a book she had bought with her and pretended to read as the entrance to the tent lifted open and Harry crawled in.
He was in nothing but a pair of shorts, his tattooed torso completely bare, “Normally I’d wear less than this but since the lady’s present,” He smirked.
Y/N scoffed, “How kind,”
There was nothing but the rustling of his sleeping bag as he crawled into the tight spot next to him. Y/N’s eyes widened when she felt his arm right next to hers as they lay side by side in such close proximity. She immediately sat up, looking down at his relaxed state, “What?” He frowned.
“Can’t you move over a little?” She huffed, even though they both knew there wasn’t exactly anywhere to move.
His head turned, “Where exactly?”
“I-I don’t know!” She exclaimed.
Harry smiled as though he were amused by her franticness, “Oh c’mon Birdy, I don’t bite. I mean I may get a little bit touchy in the night but that’s no fault of my own.”
“Harry,” She sighed.
His expression faltered. "Fine," he muttered. Reaching beside him, he retrieved the blanket he had stowed away. Sitting up, he rolled it up and placed it between them. Y/N settled back down, the blanket now forming a barrier between them. Though it sacrificed some space, she found herself feeling a bit more at ease with the added distance.
“Thank you,” She sighed.
“Mhm,” Harry huffed.
A silence settled between them. Y/N, exhausted from the hike, found herself unable to drift off to sleep quickly. Her mind raced as she listened to the man beside her breathing softly. "Y' trust me, don't you, birdy?" he whispered into the darkness.
She thought for a moment, “More than I did before.”
“But not completely?” Harry’s voice seemed sad, almost defeated.
She said nothing, wondering what she could say. Of course she trusted him, he had been nothing but good to her these last few months and proved to her he wasn’t what most people said he was. Even if he was a flirt and enjoyed attention from time to time, he was loyal to the people he held close in his life and she adored that about him.
“You’re getting there,” She whispered but the truth was he was already there. She just didn’t know if she trusted herself.
Y/N woke up in the middle of the night when she felt something jolt next to her. Groggy and disoriented, she blinked in the darkness, trying to make sense of her surroundings. As her eyes adjusted, she realised that Harry was stirring restlessly, his breathing ragged and uneven.
“H-Harry?” Y/N sat up, the sleeping bag falling to her waist. She reached out and placed her hand on his arm to shake him, “Harry wake up,” She urged, voice laced with concern.
She noticed how he had begun to shiver, his arm covered in goosebumps. Y/N reached to put her hand gently against his forehead and hoped that her touch would provide some warmth to his shivering body. “Harry, you’re dreaming, it’s just a dream.” She tried to coax him out of his sleep without scaring him more than he already was.
Harry's eyes snapped open, wide with fear as he gasped for breath. His chest heaved with each ragged breath, and Y/N could see the remnants of tears glistening in his eyes.
"Hey, hey, it's okay," Y/N murmured soothingly, her heart aching at the sight of Harry's distress, “You just had a nightmare that’s all.”
Harry's breathing gradually slowed as he focused on Y/N's voice, the warmth of her presence calming whatever dark thing that lurked inside of him. With a shaky exhale, his head fell, “Fuck,” He hissed, “Did I wake y’ up?” He looked up at her, his eyes tired and sad. Y/N warily nodded her head, “M sorry, M so sorry.”
“Hey, Harry, it's fine. It’s okay.” She reached out to wrap her arms around his shoulders, she could feel a thin layer of cold sweat on his back as her palm pressed against his shoulder.
Harry took the opportunity to bury his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling the floral scent of her perfume as if it would be enough to bring him back from whatever memory he was trapped in. Y/N wrapped her arms around him, holding him close as she whispered words of reassurance. She gently stroked his hair, feeling the tension slowly melt away from his body.
“It was real,” Harry whispered.
“W-what?” Y/N pulled away, still holding him.
“M-my old man left me out in the cold one night when I tried to stop him from hurting my Mama. He kicked me out in the backyard and locked the door behind him like I was some old dog.” He spat the words out, full of anger.
Y/N’s eyes welled with tears, “He hurt you?”
Harry exhaled shakily, as though he was trying not to cry, “Y-yeah he did Birdy, real bad.” The way he said it made Y/N believe it wasn’t the only time his father had hurt him.
Y/N swallowed back her tears, her throat burning. She held his face in her hands and forced him to look right at her, “Y’ might have to be big and brave for your brothers and Elise but y’ can be whatever you want with me.” She murmured, “I won’t let anything hurt you, Harry.”
His eyes softened, something flashed in them as Y/N moved her face closer to kiss his cheek, tasting the saltiness of his dried tears. “God where have y’ been all my life birdy?” He whispered, their lips inches apart.
“It doesn’t matter,” She shook her head, “I’m here now.”
Y/N made space for Harry to lay back down, but he couldn't seem to let go of her. She noticed how he held onto her hand whenever she tried to move away. So, she removed the rolled-up blanket between them and unzipped the tops of both of their sleeping bags. Once they were lying next to each other, she placed the blanket on top of them for extra warmth.
Harry’s arms reached out for her and he didn’t even ask before he was holding her close to his chest. She could hear the beating of his heart as her ear pressed against it. “Y’ not afraid are you?” She asked, peering up at him to see his eyes closed gently.
“No, that's just how it goes whenever I’m around you. Y’ get used to it after a while, don’t worry.” He murmured.
Y/N’s heart seemed to pick up pace until it matched his own, “Okay.” She whispered and fell asleep in his arms.
The next morning, Y/N awoke in the embrace of Harry who was still fast asleep. She thought back to last night and how she had never seen him so afraid before. She pressed a kiss to his cheek when she sat up and tried to leave the tent without making much of a noise.
She reached for her sweater and pulled it over her torso so she wouldn’t get cold from the morning air. “Good morning sunshine!” Molly grinned, “How’d your first night with the pilot go?”
Patsy giggled, “Yeah how’d it go?”
Y/N bit back a smile, “It was nothing like that and you know it.” She said but they weren’t accepting it as an answer.
George smirked, “I better not wake up an uncle by tomorrow morning.”
Y/N’s mouth gaped open, she hit him on the arm playfully and grabbed a carton of orange juice from the crate, “I’m two months older than you so I’d be careful!” She glared.
“Ha! Ha!” Elise grinned, her mouth covered in yogurt as she stood and stumbled over to Y/N’s tent.
"Good morning, baby girl," Harry's raspy voice greeted, a hint of strain evident as he lifted Elise into his arms, “Y’ sure are a little mess, madam.” He chuckled.
Y/N tried to resist the urge to look at him as everyone greeted him with a good morning. She settled into one of the camping chairs, folding her legs beneath her, but soon a shadow loomed over her, blocking the sun, “Good morning Birdy,” His voice was deep and raspy.
She looked up at him through her eyelashes, “Morning Harry.”
“Where’d y’ go? Left me cold in tha’ tent this morning y’ know?” Multiple snorts came from the group around them.
“I-I was-” She didn’t know what to say and she was pretty sure her face was the colour of a tomato.
“Wake me up next time, yeah?” He smirks, leaving her to grab some of the coffee Molly had made.
“Oh, so there’s a next time huh?” George winked.
Y/N cleared her throat, feeling flustered from the interaction. "So, what's everyone doing today?" She attempted to change the subject, wondering if there would ever be a moment on this trip where she wouldn't be embarrassed by something she wasn’t expecting.
. . .
Y/N didn’t see Harry for the rest of the morning as the girls got ready to go swim in the lake for the afternoon. Due to the tent mishap, Y/N was worried she’d forgotten her bathing suit as well but luckily found it at the bottom of her bag.
Molly was already in a blue, plaid halter one-piece that tied around her neck and Patsy was wearing a yellow one with a bow on the front. Y/N stepped out of the tent after getting changed, “Oh no, you can’t wear that.” Molly was the first to comment.
Y/N frowned, looking down at her plain black and white striped swimsuit, “What do you mean?”
“What do I mean?” Molly pulled the cigarette from her lips, “Honey y’ look like a crosswalk in upstate New York.” Patsy snorted.
“It’s not that bad,” She huffed, reaching for the suntan lotion only for Molly to snatch it from her grasp.
“Honey, this trip isn’t just a relaxing break for our pilots - it’s also the chance for us ladies to get a little something out of it. Think about it, all those men do is work and all we do is sit around waiting for some excitement. Y’ think Patsy and I want to camp in tents? Y’ think we want to hike up hills? No of course not, most of the ladies here come because they want a little fun. They want to flirt and be romanced by a pilot who we might never see again.”
Y/N’s eyes widened, “Really?”
“Really,” Patsy nodded.
Molly brushed past her and walked to her tent to pull out something from her bag, “Y’ lucky I’m an overpacker.” She unfolded the material and held up a red, polka dot swimsuit with a sweetheart neckline and a scoop back.
“I can’t wear that!” Y/N almost gasped, she couldn’t help but look around to see if anyone saw.
Molly rolled her eyes, “You don’t think we’ve all seen you with Harry? He’s head over heels for you! Put this on and I guarantee you’ll be thanking yourself for forgetting that tent.”
Y/N hesitated, her cheeks flushing with a mixture of embarrassment and excitement. The thought of Harry's reaction to seeing her in such a swimsuit sent a flutter of anticipation through her stomach. With a playful roll of her eyes, she took the swimsuit from Molly's outstretched hand. "Fine, but only because you're relentless."
Harry was already by the lake with his brothers and some of the other pilots working on Offutt. He was lying on a towel with his sunglasses on and swimming trunks hanging on his hips, smoking a cigarette. “Oh shit, I didn’t know Nancy was coming on this trip,” George said, taking a swig of his glass bottled beer as he sat down. Nancy was sitting with a group of friends, lounging on the dock, “She sure is something in that swimsuit, H. Would y’ look at her- pure sunlight she is.”
Harry chuckled, “Yeah, sunlight, sure. Think you’ve had one too many of those beers George. Why don’t y’ go over and talk to her?”
“Are you kidding me? She spews venom every time I try to talk to her.” George says, “And she likes you more anyway. I don’t know why though, everybody knows you’re with Y/N.”
Harry’s ears perk at the mention of her name, “What are you talking about? We’re not together.”
“Uhuh, keep talking and your nose will get bigger than it already is,”
Harry sits up to lightly hit his brother but he pauses when he sees his mouth drop open, “What are you staring at?” Harry turns around, following George’s gaze.
That's when he notices Molly and Patsy approaching, both clad in their swimsuits. Yet, it's not them who have captured the attention of not only George but seemingly everyone else as well. Y/N walks in between them in a swimsuit that reveals the soft skin of her thighs and the curve of her breasts from the low neckline. Her hair is pinned up and tied with a red ribbon, her smile so bright it overtook the light from the sun.
Harry felt a rush of breathlessness as he removed his sunglasses, unable to tear his gaze away from Y/N. "Have mercy," he muttered to himself, rising from the ground and striding over to the girls, with Sonny and George trailing behind him.
The girls laid their towels out on the ground as the boys were walking over, “Looking swell Patsy,” Sonny’s eyes were fixed on her cleavage.
“My eyes are up here Sonny,” Patsy spoke, monotonously.
Harry ignored everyone else as he stepped in front of Y/N. Her eyelashes fluttered as she looked up at him. He felt his cock stir in his swim shorts as she licked her bottom lip, sending a jolt of heat through him. Harry knew he needed to get a grip on himself before things got out of hand.
He glanced around and noticed eyes staring at the girl in front of him, “Hi Birdy,”
Y/N tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, “H-Hi Harry,” She stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Are you saving this swimsuit for someone or?” He smirked, wanting to get a rise out of her. He liked seeing her cheeks turn red whenever he attempted to flirt with her.
“M-Molly and Patsy wanted me to wear it. I wasn’t sure at first but they thought it looked good. I feel like it’s a little too much, what do you think? Do you think it’s too much?” Harry’s eyes softened as she rambled nervously to him.
Sensing her self-consciousness, he put her at ease by saying, “Y’ look beautiful Y/N,”
She took a deep breath, “Are you sure?”
“Never been more sure about anything in my life,” He murmured, reaching his hand out to hold her own. Y/N offers a shy smile.
“I don’t know about you all but I’m just about melting from how hot it is. Are any of you going in the water?” Molly asked, receiving a nodding of heads in response.
“What do y’ say we go for a swim huh?” He smirks.
Y/N suddenly gets all embarrassed again, “H-Harry, I need to tell you something,”
“What’s wrong?” He was immediately concerned.
“The thing is, I don’t know how to swim all that well.” She confessed, “We don’t have anything like this back home so I never really got the chance to learn.”
Harry snickered, “How’s about I teach y’ hmm?”
She purses her lips and then nods, “Okay Harry.”
They walk hand in hand to the dock. Harry notices Nancy’s glare as they walk past her and gives Y/N’s hand a small squeeze in assurance. He’s first to jump in the water, submerging underneath and swimming up to the surface.
Y/N stood on the edge of the dock with her toes hanging over the edge, “Oh I’m not so sure about this Harry,” She said, uncertain as she realised how deep the water was.
“It’s alright darling, I’m right here,” He holds his arms out, ready for her to leap right into them, “I’ll catch you before your head even goes underwater, wouldn’t want to ruin that pretty hair now would I?”
“No,” She says and he knows she wasn’t paying attention to anything he was saying, too busy worrying about jumping in.
“M right here Y/N, you can do it. Get in the water darling, c’mon.” He coaxes her and thinks she’s about to do it but she hesitates.
“I can’t! I really can’t Harry.” Y/N shakes her head.
“C’mon Y/N, you can do it!” Molly and Patsy cheer for her, already swimming in the lake with Elise in their arms.
“Alright Birdy, on the count of three,” Harry’s smiling even though he knows it’s hard for her. “One…”
“I can’t!” She bends her knees slightly.
“Two…” He shouts, people clapping and cheering now.
“Harry seriously!” She giggles, her eyes squeezing shut.
“Three!”
“I can’t do it,”
“Birdy get in the water!” He yells and then laughs because she’s laughing too at her own silliness, “I’m sorry daring, will you please get in the water.”
Y/N closes her eyes, bends her legs and screams, using one foot to leap into the water. Harry’s already there waiting to catch her and drag her up. It’s almost instinctive as he grabs her hips and feels her legs wrap around his waist beneath the water. Her head emerged and she quickly wrapped both her arms around his neck. “That’s m’ girl,” He cheered, everyone joining in as Y/N emerged with a smile.
“It’s cold,” She laughed, water coming out her nose.
“It’s not so bad,” Their faces were close, if he moved any closer he’d almost be kissing her.
“Are you gonna teach me how to swim now?” Y/N asked, her teeth biting her bottom lip.
“I don’t know,” Harry shrugged, grinning, “I kinda like having y’ like this.”
Y/N splashed him with water, “What if I drown?”
“I won’t let you,” He said as though it were a matter of fact.
Y/N rolled her eyes, “But what if I’m eighty and you can’t swim anymore but I wanna swim instead.”
He knew she was being silly but he liked the fact that she considered him to be a part of her life for that long. A spark of hope flashed within him, “I’ll probably just swim with y’ anyway. I mean it would be a sight to see Birdy but wherever you go I go.”
Y/N huffed, “Fine if you won’t teach me to swim, you’ll just have to carry me around in the water.”
“Sounds like a dream,” Harry joked, “Where to first Birdy?”
She pointed to her two friends who were keeping Elise entertained in the water and Harry grinned, understanding her silent request. With a playful twinkle in his eye, he scooped Y/N up into his arms and waded into the water towards Molly and Patsy, Elise's delighted squeals echoing around them.
As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a warm glow over the lake, they reluctantly made their way back to shore after spending the whole afternoon swimming. As it was the last night, people had been preparing for a bonfire - a tradition created to commemorate the end of the trip. Sonny and George were already sitting with Nancy’s group of friends as they waited for the bonfire to be lit, the other’s going to join them.
Elise was napping in Patsy’s arms as they sat together, wrapped in towels and talking. Harry pulled Y/N down to sit next to him on one of the logs, pulling her into his side. He noticed she was shivering as the air turned cooler and silently reached for the sweatshirt he had brought with him to pull over her head. She thanked him quietly in return.
Eventually, the evening air was filled with the scent of woodsmoke and the sound of laughter as they settled in for a cosy night by the fire. Someone pulled out a guitar, and soon the sound of music filled the air, blending with the sounds of voices and the crackling of the flames.
Harry excused himself from Y/N's side for a moment to join his brothers and friends for a smoke. Despite the distance, he couldn't help but steal glances at her now and then, his heart warming at the sight of her. Each time she took over from Patsy in looking after Elise as she slept, a sense of peace settled within him.
It had always worried Harry that Elise wouldn’t have another woman in her life to provide the things she needed that Harry and his brothers knew nothing about. There was something profoundly comforting about seeing Y/N with his baby sister. It wasn't just the way she cradled Elise with such care, or the gentle sway of her movements as she rocked the sleeping girl. It was the way Elise seemed to instinctively trust her, snuggling closer to Y/N as if she sensed the warmth and safety she provided.
Harry turned his back on her momentarily to extinguish his cigarette in the dirt. But when he faced his friend again, his attention was drawn to someone approaching the girls. It was a man he recognized, someone Nancy and her friends had been conversing with for most of the day. He observed as Y/N smiled, but he could sense her discomfort as she subtly retreated while he continuously tried to get closer to her.
Harry began to slowly walk towards them until he could make sense of some of what the stranger was saying. The closer he got, the clearer it became that the man's words were laced with suggestive undertones, and Harry's protective instincts surged to the forefront.
As he approached, he caught Y/N's eye, and he could see the silent plea for help in her gaze. “Hey fella, I think you’ve had enough,” Harry said, his tone firm as he confronted the guy.
The thug sneered at Harry, clearly not appreciating the interference. "Mind your own business, pretty boy. The lady seems to be enjoying my company just fine," he retorted, a smug grin on his face.
Harry’s jaw clenched, “I don’t wanna have to ask y’ again to leave her alone.” He warned, his voice laced with a steely edge.
The man stood up and Harry tried to keep calm when he saw the frightened look in Y/N’s eyes. He wasn’t going to fight in front of her and he wasn’t going to wake his sister who was now in Molly’s arms. Although Molly, as though sensing there was going to be a fight, backed away and bought Elise somewhere away from the campfire.
Harry looked behind the man who was a few inches shorter than him, “Was he bothering y’ birdy?” He pointed at the thug who was trying to intimidate her.
“H-Harry-” Y/N stood and tried to reach for him but he held up a hand to stop her.
People were watching, the noise had quietened down as a thick tension fell over the camp, “I just wanted to talk to the pretty bitch over here. You know she was asking for it the way she was wearing that swimsuit all day.” The sick thug chuckled.
“You think that’s funny huh?” Harry faked a smile, stepping forward until he was right up close to the man, “Y’ know, my old man told me that when a guy makes comments like that to a young lady, it means something.”
“Oh yeah? What does it mean?” The thug spoke, as though he was in on some kind of joke Harry was making.
Harry’s jaw tightened as he muttered, “Their cock’s too small to find.” With a swift movement, he clenched his fist and swung, the impact landing squarely on the man's jaw. The thug stumbled back, stunned by the force of the blow, and Harry wasted no time in delivering another punch, sending him sprawling to the ground.
“Harry!” Y/N gasped as Patsy screamed in shock.
People gathered around to watch as the two men delivered punch after punch at each other. Y/N’s eyes welled with tears as she watched Harry get hit repeatedly, his entire face covered in blood.
“George!” Y/N ran over to him, “Y’ gotta stop it,”
“What am I meant to do? That guy’s huge!” George exclaimed although he also looked worried for his older brother.
“Please,” Y/N begged, “He’ll kill him.”
George hesitated for a moment, torn between the instinct to protect his brother and the fear of intervening in the dangerous fight. But the sight of Harry, bloodied and battered, spurred him into action.
"Sonny, help me!" George called out to his younger brother, who immediately rushed to his side. Together, they managed to pull Harry off of the thug he was punching, their combined strength enough to separate Harry from him.
Breathing heavily, Harry glared at the man lying on the ground, spitting out blood from his mouth as he did, before turning to face Y/N. Despite the pain etched on his face, his eyes softened as he reached out to her. "I'm okay," he assured her, his voice hoarse.
“Y-you’re hurt,” She was in shock, unable to believe this was real and not just some nightmare she was having.
“I’m okay baby,” He heaved, spitting out more blood onto the floor.
Before the man could get up and try to hit him again, Sonny, George and Y/N led Harry away from the bonfire. Y/N's heart ached at the sight of Harry's injuries, her hands trembling as she gently touched his bruised cheek. "We need to get you cleaned up," she murmured, one of his eyes already beginning to swell.
They managed to lead Harry away from the chaos of the campfire, guiding him towards their tents where they could tend to his injuries in privacy and ignoring the gossip that was whispered amongst everybody. Y/N caught sight of Nancy who stood up and looked over at Harry with concern etched on her features.
“Put him down here,” Y/N pointed to one of the logs for him to sit on and ran to grab a first aid kit she had packed in her backpack as a precaution and a wet cloth to wipe his face with. Harry groaned at the impact, hunching forward and clutching his ribs in pain.
Y/N knelt in between his legs in front of him and opened up the kit, “You two should head on back, make the most of the rest of the night,” She told them as she placed the wet cloth to remove the blood from Harry’s face.
“Are you sure Y/N?” Sonny scratched the back of his neck, “We can help if you want.”
“And do what? All I’m gonna do is fix his wounds and then go to bed. I don’t want you two to miss out and ruin the rest of the trip.” It was only ten thirty so there was still plenty of time to spend at the bonfire. “The girls are leaving Elise with one of the families and I’ll pick her up in the morning. Everything is fine, you two go and have fun.”
Harry hissed as she applied disinfectant to his cuts, “Well alright,” George said, still unsure, “But you’ll come get us if something goes wrong?”
Y/N nodded, trying her best to smile, “I promise I’ll come get you.”
They soon left and Y/N was left alone with Harry writhing in pain, “I’m sorry Y/N.” His voice came out a whisper.
Y/N’s jaw clenched, “That was silly, y’ could have easily diffused the situation without delivering the first punch.”
“He was asking for it and I won’t allow anyone to talk to y’ that way. I saw how scared you looked when he was talking to you. God Y/N,” Harry exhaled heavily through his nose, “I think I saw red - I’ve never been so angry before.”
Y/N sighed, “I know you were just trying to look out for me but you frightened me and I-”
“I did?” His voice sounded hurt, taking Y/N aback.
“A-A little,” She admitted, “I thought you were gonna die.”
“I can’t die, you know that,” He tried to crack a smile but his face hurt too much, “I never want to scare you, you know that right?”
Y/N said nothing, “Hey,” He cupped her face in his hand, “I never want to scare you, ever.”
“I know,” She shrugged him off, “Just don’t ever do that again.”
Harry looked at her with a furrowed brow, unsure what to think of how she was feeling, “Alright,” His shoulders dropped, “I won’t.”
Harry thought better than to interrupt her as she tended to the cuts and bruises on his face and hands. His eyes stayed fixated on her as she focused on fixing him up. He was pretty sure his pupils had carved themselves into hearts with how much adoration he had whilst looking at her. Her hair was wavy and tangled from swimming in the river, she had caught the sun a little so her face was tinged red and she was wearing his sweatshirt that was much too big for her small form.
“I think that’s as good as it gets,” She whispered, eyes darting across his face.
As she was about to pull away, Harry tugged on the sleeve of her sweater. Y/N looked down as he curled his fingers around her wrist and rubbed the pad of his thumb over her pulse point, “Thank you,” He murmured, doing his best to look at her despite his black eye.
Y/N helped Harry into the tent, trying to make it easy for him to lay down comfortably without feeling any pain from where he had taken a few hits on his torso. She crawled in beside him and lay on her side to look at him, “Do you need anything?” She kept her voice quiet.
Harry shook his head, “Just you here is fine.”
Y/N swallowed, “I’ll stay here until you fall asleep.”
A silence fell over them, the tension felt palpable now that they were alone together. There was so much that needed to be said hanging in the space between them - things that had been brushed off or put to one side all so they could build trust. But perhaps as their trust in each other grew, they began to question their own judgement and feel uncertain about themselves.
“Y/N,” Harry whispered, breaking the silence. He rarely said her name now, often replacing it with the nickname he had given her, so hearing it from his lips sounded sweet like a term of endearment.
“H-Harry,” She said back, unsure of what he was going to say.
“My old man used to hurt me and m’ family a lot,” He started, Y/N’s heart hurting for the man in front of her and his younger siblings, “When I grew older, I started t’ fight him back and I got so good at it. Not that that’s something to brag about but… I-I guess when I see the people I love, like my Mama and my brothers and Elise, in pain, I just get so angry. I-it’s like I see red every time and all I can think about is how much I want to hurt the cause of their pain.”
Y/N stayed quiet, allowing him time and space for his moment of vulnerability, “But I don’t think I’ve ever been as angry as I had been tonight. It’s like I saw you flinch and I swore I could have killed him.”
“Harry,” Y/N gasped, wanting to reach out for him.
Harry turned over, wincing at the pain but needing to look at her as he spoke, “I ain’t stopped thinking about that kiss since it happened. When I sleep rough, I picture it to help me get back to sleep. Y’ seem to settle something in me that no one else can and… I don’t know what to do about it.”
Y/N’s heart thundered against her chest like it was trying to leap out, “Watching y’ with my family, being with y’ every day - it is the one good thing in my life. You are the one good thing in my life, the only thing that is wholly and completely mine. I don’t know how to quit y’ Birdy, I’ve been trying because I thought y’ wanted to do this whole friends thing for a little longer but I think about you when I sleep, when I eat, when I’m a hundred feet in the air - Hell, I even think about you when I’m holding Elise, imagining you being there and holding her and how much I want that with you.”
Y/N felt her eyes burn with tears, “Y-you do?” She said her voice barely above a whisper.
“I do darling,” He shuffles forward and reaches a hand out for hers under the blanket.
“I haven’t stopped thinking about you either.” Y/N confesses, feeling the weight on her chest ease with each word she spoke, “I don’t think I’ve stopped thinking about you since the moment I saw you.”
“You haven’t?” Harry questioned like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“I haven’t,” Y/N affirmed, “Somehow it seems you’ve set up camp somewhere in there,” She placed a hand over his heart, “‘S a little annoying really,” She giggled.
Harry grinned, his head moving closer to hers. Y/N’s smile fell when she felt his breath blow across her face. Her eyes darted down to his lips, “Are we going to kiss again?” She asked.
“Do y’ want to kiss again?” He murmured, his lips feathering across hers.
“I do, so badly, I do.” She was almost begging.
“Well alright then,” His voice husky with desire. With that, he closed the remaining distance between them, capturing her lips with his.
The kiss ignited something within them both. Months of longing and watching from afar, releasing into this moment. Harry's lips moved with an urgency as Y/N sighed deeply in relief, their mouths melding together. His hands found their way to her waist, pulling her closer as if to bridge any remaining space between them.
Y/N responded eagerly, her fingers tangling in Harry's hair as she deepened the kiss, her heart racing with every beat. The world around them faded into insignificance as if they were the only two people remaining in the world and they were all each other had.
Y/N’s hand went under his shirt, feeling his warm body beneath her fingertips as she slid them up his torso. Harry gripped her hips hard enough to move her on top of him. Her bare legs were between his and he remembered she was still wearing her swimsuit beneath her sweatshirt. “Harry,” She whispered, breathless. She was tugging on the hem of his shirt, silently begging him to take it off.
He shot up and she pulled his shirt over his head. Y/N marvelled at his muscular, tattooed body, she’d seen it plenty of times before but she could never seem to get over how perfectly built he was. Harry was eager to kiss her again, but Y/N hesitated. Her fingers went to the hem of her sweatshirt, and she pulled it over her head. Then, she did something that left Harry breathless.
She pulled the straps of her swimsuit down, leaving her upper body completely bare. Harry had never seen something so ethereal. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders, the ends falling at her supple, rounded breasts, her nipples hardened from the cold air. Harry felt his cock stir in his shorts and he was pretty sure Y/N knew what was happening from the way her pupils dilated and her lips parted.
“We don’t have to...” Harry wasn’t sure where this night was going to go but Y/N stopped him.
“I want to,” She whispered, “I want you.”
“Y/N,” He murmured, unable to believe this wasn’t all a dream.
“Shhh,” She shushed him and pressed her lips against his again. She looped her arms around his neck and pressed their bodies together.
Harry tossed the blanket to one side with his lips still attached to her. He pressed kisses down her neck, sucking and biting on her skin leaving a mark that would tell him in the morning that this was all real. Y/N could feel the bulge in his boxers beneath her as she straddled his lap. She rolled her hips against him, Harry groaning against her lips in response.
Y/N gasped when Harry thrust his clothed cock against her core. She could feel the dampening of her swimsuit as her pussy grew wet the harder he ground against her, “Harry,” She breathed, his lips ghosting against her jawline, “I want you to put it in me,” She said, her desire overruling everything.
“Yeah?” His voice came out raspy, “Y want my cock in your pussy darling girl?” He looked up at her with hooded eyes.
Y/N immediately nodded, desperate to feel him inside of her, “Take me out then baby,” He ordered.
Y/N swallowed and tugged on the waistband of his shorts, her fingers fumbling to pull him out. Her eyes widened when she saw the outline of his cock against the fabric. She reached into his shorts and felt his cock beneath her hand, wrapping her fingers around it only to realise how big he was as she pumped her hand up and down. Harry clenched his jaw, his head falling back as he released a moan.
“Gonna take off the rest of that swimsuit baby?” Harry murmured, playing with the nylon fabric. Y/N nodded and lifted her hips, allowing him to tug the swimsuit off of her body. Harry’s mouth fell open as her wetness touched his thighs. “Look at tha’ making a mess all over me hmm?” He tutted, his eyes looking down at her bare, pretty pussy. “So pretty, the prettiest woman I’ve ever seen.”
“I need you so bad Harry,” Y/N mewled, her head dropping forward onto his shoulder as she went back to pumping his cock. He ran his hand up and down her back, soothing her.
“I know baby, I know.” He cooed.
He helped her a little by pulling his shorts down from his hips. He almost died when he saw how much bigger his cock looked in her smaller hand, “Will it fit?” Y/N asked, eyes looking up at him big and round.
Harry glanced at her pussy, “Dunno baby, y’ pussy’s so small,” He sighed, “Might hurt y’”
“But it’ll fit, I know it will,” She insisted because if he refused she’d probably pass out.
“Oh yeah?” He looked at her with a cocky grin, “Look at you, you’re so desperate for it.” He reached out to wipe the drool from the corner of her mouth as she looked at his aching length.
His lips went to her ear, feeling her shiver beneath his touch as he breathed, “Show me.”
“What?” Her mouth fell open.
“Show me how it fits in y’ baby,” He muttered.
Y/N swallowed and nodded, exhaling shakily. She sat up on her knees, lifting her hips and shifting herself so her pussy was directly above Harry’s cock. Harry waited patiently, moving his hands to her hips and giving them a soft squeeze in encouragement. She grabbed the base of his cock in her hand and lowered her hips until she felt the tip nudge against her hole. She gasped when she lowered her hips a little further and the thick crown of his cock squeezed through the opening of her core.
“There y’ go,” He inhaled, “Tha’s my girl.” Y/N nodded, unable to think as his cock stretched her open inch by inch in the most delicious way, squeezing and pulsing against the walls of her pussy the further it entered her.
“‘S it all the way in yet?” She whimpered, her eyes squeezed shut.
Harry looked down and groaned when he saw half of his cock submerged in her tight pussy, “Almost baby,”
“Okay,” She mewled, sinking further onto his cock until he was so deep inside of her. She whined, her head dropping forward when she felt the tip of his cock nudge the walls of her cervix and his balls pressed against her ass.
“Fuck baby,” Harry moaned, pressing a longing kiss to the top of her head.
“Y so deep,” Y/N’s words came out slurred. She rested her head against his chest for a moment, getting used to the feeling of his cock inside of her. “M ready now,” She whispered.
“Yeah? Y’ sure?” He wanted to make sure she was okay and that she was in complete control of the situation.
Y/N didn’t say anything. Instead, she lifted herself up and then sank back down on his cock, feeling it rub against the walls of her sopping, wet cunt as she did. She repeated the action, her head falling backwards, back arching; she had to grip Harry’s calves to keep her from falling back. She was seeing stars every time she bounced on his cock, “It feels so good Harry,” She whimpered.
Harry grabbed her waist, helping her move up and down on his cock, “I know it does baby,” He moaned, “Does it feel good knowing ‘m so deep? Only I can touch y’ that deep baby, fuck,” He drawled.
Y/N pushed herself up and removed her hands from his calves to his shoulders, using them as an aid to help her move up and down. Harry moved his head forward and wrapped his lips around her nipple, sucking and biting. He pressed spongy kisses down the center of her breasts, “Can y’ feel me right here darling girl?” He whispered, pressing his hand to her belly where his cock protruded every time she sank back down on him.
“Please Harry,” She whined, unsure exactly what she was asking for but so consumed by the intense pleasure she was feeling.
“Please what?” His lips ghosted against her jawline, sweat coated their skin from how warm the tent was. He tugged on the ends of Y/N’s hair, “Y’ want me t’ put a baby in y’ is that what you're asking?” Y/N groaned, lips parting as the air left her lungs. “Oh you like that, don’t you? Can feel you clenching round m’ cock baby. Darling girl wants me to put a baby in her?”
Harry thrust his hips harder into her when he received no reply, “Want me to fill you up and put a baby in you hmmm? Do y’ like the idea of having my baby inside of you? Making y’ belly all round and swollen and having everyone at Offutt knowing that baby inside of you is all mine.”
“Y-Yes Harry,” She gasped.
“Yeah? Y’ wanna make me a daddy baby? Be m’ perfect mama waiting on me with your perfect pregnant belly?”
“Mhm,” Y/N choked, his words making her heart pound. Her eyes began to water, feeling overwhelmed with how good she felt.
“Do you want me to cum inside of you?” He kisses her chin, “Know y’ ready to cum baby. Y’done so well.” He moves his hand in between them and starts to rub circles on her clit. Y/N’s gasping for breath, whining and writhing on top of him.
“Harry, Harry, Harry,” She says over and over again like some sacred prayer, a stray tear falling from her eye.
“I know baby, I know you’re tired and ready to cum.” His lips puckering to leave a kiss where the salty tear once was on the side of her cheek. He could feel the burning in his belly as his orgasm began to build. He would have cum ages ago if he wasn’t so set on cumming with her. He could feel her cunt tighten around his cock, squeezing him harder. “Cum with me darling.” He murmured.
Y/N felt the coil in her belly burst as she clenched around his cock as she came. Harry’s quiet moans filled the tent as his cum painted the walls of her insides. He makes sure his whole cock is all the way in her even though he knows it won’t do anything, the thought of filling her up with his seed makes him cum even harder.
Y/N collapses into his chest, her head falling on his shoulder. Her eyes flutter shut and her chest heaves as she tries to catch her breath from the intensity of her release. She feels Harry’s heart thumping hard against his chest, his hand smoothing up and down her back as he lays his forehead on her shoulder.
Y/N whimpers when Harry moves and shakes her head, “Can we stay like this for a little longer?” She asks, tiredly.
Harry kisses her shoulder, “For as long as y’ want.”
“Thank you,” She murmurs, feeling as though she could fall asleep exactly like this. His cock was still inside of her, she could feel the stickiness of his cum dripping on her thighs, but it felt so good to be so full of him.
“C’mon darling girl,” Harry kissed her cheek, “Time to sleep.”
Y/N shuddered when Harry removed his cock, her pussy pulsing around nothing whilst she felt his cum gush out of her. Harry brought his fingers to her thighs and began to push his cum back into her sensitive cunt. Y/N inhaled deeply, shuddering as she felt his fingers stuffing her empty hole with his cum.
He gently laid her down beside him, her body placid. He grabbed the blanket and laid it across her body to stop her from getting cold, “Your bruises,” Y/N whispered, cupping his cheek in her hand and brushing her thumb over the bruise on his eye.
“It doesn’t hurt anymore,” He told her, he’d completely forgotten he was even in pain after she admitted his feelings for her.
“Promise?” She whispered.
“I promise,” He kissed the tip of her nose and then laid down next to her, wrapping her in his arms. She hooked her leg around his waist and nuzzled her face in the crook of his neck. “I love you Y/N.” He whispered.
Y/N smiled, he could feel her lips curving against him, “I love you too Harry.”
Y/N woke up the next morning with a smile on her face. Memories of last night flashing through her mind like each individual scene from a movie reel. Her whole body was filled with warmth, her core aching from the acts she had partaken in just last night.
She turned over, expecting to see Harry still asleep beside her only to find an empty space. With a frown, she sat up and ran her fingers through her knotted hair, searching for her underwear and the sweater she had borrowed from him yesterday to cover herself up.
She crawled out of the tent and glanced around, trying to find the man she had confessed her feelings to. She hoped he was somewhere smoking a cigarette or maybe decided to go for a swim before they had to make the hike back to the Air Base later on.
Y/N stood on shaky legs and wrapped her arms around herself. She caught sight of Sonny and Patsy walking over with a bucket of fresh water. Y/N waved and tried her best to smile at them even though the feeling of dread began to swarm in the pit of her stomach. Sonny’s head turned in her direction and his expression faltered , “Hey guys,” Y/N said, her voice slightly raspy, “H-Have any of you seen Harry this morning?”
The uneasy silence that followed, punctuated by the grim expressions on Sonny and Patsy's faces, already made Y/N regret ever asking the question in the first place.
p.s y/n is on birth control just wanna make that clear heh
taglist: @ribbonknives @scorpiotulipicon @hermionelove @champagnepronlemsxxxx @n0vaj3an @roxyfan14-blog @avasbeanie @idontcareforausernamesblog @tpwksummer @celesterry @love-letters-to-uranus @boredhsblog @tpwk-harry-styles @groupieloveclub @estaticheart @unknownkii @royaler1999 @lovebittenbyevans
#harry styles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles blurb#harry styles x reader#harry styles imagines#fic rec#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fic rec#harry styles imagine#harry styles one shot#harry styles fic#harry styles writing#writing#harry styles au#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x you#one direction#harry styles smut#harry styles fluff#harry edward styles#harry styles blog#pilotrry#pilot!harry#piloth
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WORLD’S MOST PRODUCTIVE LOON BREEDS AGAIN
Damon McCormick Common Coast Research & Conservation
Fe, the oldest documented Common Loon, hatched two chicks last week with her unbanded I Pool mate; the young were, at minimum, Fe’s 41st and 42nd offspring, extending her record for the species. Most of her prior chicks were begot with her long-term consort, ABJ, during their quarter-century partnership, but since their split in spring 2022, Fe has produced young in two of three breeding seasons. Prior to first coupling with ABJ in 1997, she hatched at least seven chicks with a color-marked male known as Dewlap. The qualifiers attending Fe’s age and lifetime productivity are necessitated by her initial banding in 1990 as a successful mother, when she was at least four years old, the threshold for Common Loon reproduction. As her earlier life history in the 1980s is a mystery, Fe could well be older than 38, and with more than 42 progeny to her credit. One of Fe’s 2024 young perished, from an unknown cause, within days of hatching. Although Refuge loon chicks collectively fare far better in terms of survivorship than their cygnet, gosling and duckling counterparts, of the roughly one in five who do not live to fledge from Seney in the fall, most disappear early, when as downy buoyant corks they are most vulnerable to predators and other antagonists. While not quite the endlessly doting parent that ABJ was, across 35 years of monitoring Fe has – assuming her second chick makes it to autumn – fledged 86% of her offspring. ABJ’s parenting is referenced in the past tense owing to a lack of reproduction since 2020. After a failed nesting attempt on E West last summer with a female two decades his junior, ABJ was evicted from that territory this spring, and again found himself on H Pool, which has served as his bachelor pad of sorts in both recent and distant years. Although this season he did attract a female known as Aye-Aye, there was no evidence of nest initiation by the pair. Historically H Pool has provided poor habitat for Common Loons, with only four fledged chicks since 1987, and if ABJ is to successfully breed again at Seney, it is likely that he will do so on a different Refuge territory. Thanks to Dani Fegan, Teresa McGill and Jen Wycoff for their ongoing observations of the Seney loon population. Picture courtesy of Dani Fegan.
via: Seney National Wildlife Refuge (MI, ISA)
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Until Death (Part 1)
Arranged Marriage AU: Dark!Husband!Rafe Cameron x Wife!Reader
Word Count: +1,524
Warning(s): +18, Non con, Non consensual photographing, Domestic Violence, Humiliation, Forced breeding, Unwanted orgasm.
Author's Note(s): I wrote this cause I really wanna get married and find someone to love me but I don’t think it’s possible so here’s a fic instead 🥲
You never would've imagined being married to the Kook king himself, Rafe Cameron. But here you were, almost a year in. From the beginning you felt like an outsider. Even in the new home that Ward had gifted you. It was decision made by both of your fathers. Ward wanted someone from a family he knew very well. Your fathers were childhood friends and trusted each other enough to make the right decision. Whether their children were willing to or not. An arranged marriage between a Kook and a Pogue. One of the first of its kind.
Ward needed an heir from his only son. It was about time Rafe learned some responsibility. Ward needed to find a family with no authority or power. So, what better decision than to contact an old friend from the cut? Ward managed to pull himself out of there, your father on the other hand, wasn't so lucky. However, by Mr. Cameron's gracious offer, your father had been given a position in his company. Ward would handle the paperwork, while your father handled construction and remodeling.
It was enough to get by, but not enough to get out of the cut. That's why your father made the brash decision. Ward didn't see a problem with the arrangement given your family had no name for themselves. To him, having a family with no name or status is better than being involved with a tarnished one. It would avoid any unwanted attention for the Cameron family.
All your father wants is to make sure his only child would be taken care of once he's gone. You've only met Rafe during family events/outings, and when you did meet, he'd always try to torment you. Other than that, most of time would be spent clinging to Sarah for protection.
You hadn't known about the arrangement until a week prior. You defiantly hadn't expected Rafe to get on one knee in front of everyone. Your engagement was a nightmare, Rafe had decided to ambush you during the Kook's annual midsummer event. A few months later you married into the Cameron family. The event being of the most lavish, expensive, and largest weddings in the history of the Outer Banks.
Rafe made the decision that your honeymoon would be spent ‘setting up home’. You bid your family and friends a farewell before leaving with your husband. It was awkward enough that he'd been drinking for most of the night. What was supposed to be a beautiful ceremony quickly became a frat party. It was awkward enough when Rafe (who'd been drinking most of the night) tried carrying you across the threshold of what was your new home. He stumbles a few times, almost dropping you on the front steps. All you wanted was to go to bed after a long and eventful day.
In a fit of rage you rush up the stairs and into the master bedroom. You hadn't even changed out of your wedding dress. Deciding that it would be done tomorrow, as would everything else. It was tiring, putting on an act in front of hundreds of people. You were relieved for it to be over with. Until the harsh turning of the doorknob catches your attention. In came a very intoxicated Rafe Cameron, stumbling in with his tie already undone.
His hair was a mess from wrestling his groomsman, his expensive cologne overtaken by the stench of alcohol. All you want now is to sleep after being anxiety ridden for the past few hours. But the shuffling on the end of the bed made your stomach churn. Maybe if you pretended to be asleep he would leave you be.
Rafe reaches down to brush the back of his hand on your cheek. He couldn't help but chuckle at his fiancee--no, his wife. You're his wife now and he couldn't believe it. He grins from cheek to cheek, hovering over to study your features. You could hear Rafe talking to himself, "You're even prettier up close..."
Rafe was fine with the wedding day being for his wife, but it was the wedding night that belonged to the husband.
He gets on his knees, preparing to strike. He pulls you but the ankle, dragging you across the bedsheets. He locks his arms around your thighs to pull you in. It was futile trying to fight back. Rafe rips away at the fabric, revealing what was for his eyes only. He doesn't waste time getting to work, suckling, lapping, and teasing at your sex.
When he starts to dip his tongue inside that's when you crumble beneath him. Your thighs shake when coming undone. A gush of arousal splashes his face. Rafe doesn't stop there, instead he keeps going until you're brought to tears cumming for the second time. He retreats with a triumphant look on his face.
"Hey...." he whispers followed by a harsh grip on your jaw that turns your attention back to him, "Hey," his voice boomed. He held you in place, looking you right in the eyes when he states, "Look at me," a small pause follows, "No one is coming through that door to save you," he readjusts his grip, digging his fingers into your jaw, "No one is coming through that door, we're the only ones here," leaning in, "And if they heard they wouldn't care, they know their place," before lifting your skirt up, "It's about time you did too," Rafe held his cock in one hand, his other held your hip in place. He pumps his shaft a few times before rubbing it against your slick. He moans, "Oh fuck...can't wait to stuff you with it..." Rafe dips his head into the crook of your neck, his lips find that sweet spot. He suckles until he's certain there would be bruising.
"You can scream all you want, no one’s gonna stop me,” he presses his leaking tip against the small opening, pushing it in without hesitation, “Not you…” he just his hips, “Not our families,” thrusting his cock inside, “No one…” fastening his pace. He’d been waiting for this moment for a long, long time. You had no idea that Rafe had willingly entered this marriage.
Can’t you see? He’s been in love with you for as long as he can remember. Yet you kept denying him repeatedly. Now Rafe has everything he’s ever wanted. He’s inherited the Cameron family fortune, gained the trust of his father as well as yours, and now he has you.
He doesn’t stop thrusting his hips back and forth. Reveling in the feeling of you squeezing his member. It was exactly how he’d fantasized about. No more having to spend late nights wondering what you would feel like. He has you right where he wants. Rafe pulls down your top, exposing both breasts. He nips and suckles at them until they’re nice and bruised. He takes pride in being able to do so. Rafe squeezes your mouth open before pressing his lips against them. He sucks your tongue into his mouth, swirling it around his. The taste of liquor makes you nauseous.
This wasn’t how you wanted to end the night. In the end you never had a choice. Your entire life revolving around men in power. A lamb sent to be slaughter, given only the right to live. Even if it meant living for someone else. Rafe presses his sweaty forehead against yours. He snarls, "You're my wife until I fucking die, do you hear me? Until death," his teeth sink into the flesh of your shoulder, digging hard enough to break skin.
A howl escapes your body as pain shot through it. Rafe held you close to him until he finally reached his limit and finishes inside. A deep, guttural moan is muffled into the bite mark. For a moment the two of you stay together until finally Rafe draws back. He’s a panting mess. He could practically feel how slick you became. He lets out a satisfying huff of victory. Rafe had won.
A part of him wants to remember the day he finally got to take you. Then it hits him, “Wait…don’t move,” rummaging through a cabinet. He retreats down the hall. You could hear him searching for something in the unopened boxes. He then returns to you with a Polaroid in hand. He straddles your waist, aiming the lens at you. Rafe smiles, “Something to remember this moment...” he aims it right in your face, “...our first time as husband and wife,” before clicking it.
You could only give a startled look as you stare back at him. Like a deer caught in headlights. Rafe inspects the photo of you. He whistles at the beautifully captured moment. There you were, staring back at him with smudged lipstick and running mascara. You only blink as he stood there, snapping pictures like it was some heartfelt moment. What was supposed to be the most important day of your life, ended in the worst way imaginable.
"Smile for me Mrs. Cameron..."
Rafe was fine with the conditions of inheritance. In order to stay in his father's will, he would have to settle down first. But if there's one thing Ward taught him, it's to negotiate. Rafe remembers striking the deal in his father's office. For the first time ever, the young Cameron man put his foot down,
"No," Rafe states,
Ward looks up at his son, "I'm sorry?"
"I'm not getting married, not unless it's her," he's dead serious too. Ward sighs, he leans back in his chair, "Do you really want to marry this girl?" questioning his son's authenticity. Rafe nods, "It's always been her,"
Ward understands now that his son's mind is made up. Not even he could stop it, "Rafe...you have to understand that her father is a very important member of my company..." he starts, "...he's a bit of a... traditionalist," he pushes himself off the desk, approaching his son, "He expects a certain price for her hand, that I’m not worried about…” he held Rafe's shoulder.
Ward looks his son dead in the eyes to show how serious this situation was to both of their families, “Do not fuck this up, you only get one shot and then you're done, do you hear me? Done," he expects an answer. Rafe looks him in the eyes, there’s a park of determination in the young Cameron man, “I won't,” sealing the deal. Ward picks up his phone and dials up your father’s number, "My friend, you're needed at the office, it's about time we discuss family matters,"
The best decision Rafe made was making you Mrs. Cameron.
#dark!rafe#dark!rafe cameron#dark!rafe x reader#dark!rafe cameron x reader#reader#reader insert#fem!reader#afab!reader#fab!reader#my works#my work
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SSR Leona Kingscholar - Platinum Jacket Voice Lines
When Summoned: What, why're you lookin' all worried? Even I know to be well-mannered in a museum.
Summon Line: What a great honor to be made a supporter for the Land of Dawning's National Museum of Art. I'll make sure to take in all their precious art.
Groooovy!!: Look at that lion cub, all spoiled and pampered by everyone around it... Surely it made for a splendid ruler.
Home: Here's my utmost respect for their 100 years of history.
Home Idle 1: Every exhibit we step into, he's gotta loudly talk about all this thoughts on each painting. Is Kalim treatin' this museum as if he were back at his family estate?
Home Idle 2: It looked like Silver was staring at the same picture for some time... But then I noticed he was just sleeping while standing. That's some skill, heh.
Home Idle 3: You can see in the details of the King of Beasts' statue the toil that all his hard work impressed on him. That's what you'd expect from a king that did everything he could for his countrymen. He's a completely different breed from any figurehead ruler.
Home Idle - Login: The Land of Dawning's National Museum of Art, huh. It's well-known for it's large collection or art, so this probably won't be a snoozefest.
Home Idle - Groovy: We're lettin' that easily-bored Floyd loose in a museum, huh. Guess this place has full confidence in their security guards.
Home Tap 1: What a warm welcome, indeed. Who would've ever thought I'd get to wear such magnificent garbs as a mere student?
Home Tap 2: I hear the Sorcerer of the Sands was constantly bent on hunting for treasure. Hey, maybe that avarice is what landed him the Vizier's position in the first place.
Home Tap 3: You're looking for Sebek? I feel like I might've seen him at the museum shop, but I'm not completely sure. Funny enough, he's actually been much quieter than usual.
Home Tap 4: The Thorn Fairy sent out all her men in search of one person, huh. Heheh, I wonder what that little human could've possibly done to deserve that.
Home Tap 5: Apparently, some painters'll substitute their fingers for paintbrushes for their final strokes. Not something a carnivore could do, though. It'd damage our nails.
Home Tap - Groovy: You really get into lookin' at art, huh. Your neck's so stretched out you look like one of 'em herbivores trying to eat leaves from a tall tree.
Duo: [LEONA]: No slacking off, Floyd. [FLOYD]: You're the last person I wanna hear that from, Sea Lion-senpai.
Birthday Login Message: ...Ugh. As I'm sure you can tell, I'm in the middle of a nap. If you need something from me, ask me later. If you just wanted to celebrate my birthday, a card woulda been plenty... But, fine. Here, hand it over. [Yuu startles] Whaddya mean, hand what over? ...Obviously, I'm talking about my gift. I'm expecting it to be something good to make up for the rude awakening.
Requested by @sakurakudo and @farfalla049.
#twisted wonderland#twst#leona kingscholar#floyd leech#twst leona#twst floyd#twst translation#twst birthday#mention: kalim#mention: silver#mention: floyd#mention: sebek
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yandere mark nsfw alphabet😳😳 loved the idea
cw; DARK CONTENT! MDNI!!! rape, breeding/baby trapping, dacryphilia, asphyxiation, abusive 'relationships', edging, predator/prey dynamics, nipple play, kidnapping, food tampering, mentions of suicidal ideation, threats of violence, implied death, manipulation, victim blaming, branding, mentions of incapacitation.
about; nsfw alphabet ft. cray cray mark x gn! reader xx a/n; a couple of u asked for this so here it is :D not edited & straight off the dome so excuse any grammatical errors. will edit if necessary xx
A= Aftercare
'aftercare' with yandere mark is patronizing and condescending. a lot of shushing, wiping your tears, and asking why you're so upset. you asked for this with all your fucking cock teasing. it couldn't have been that bad, i mean, he did make you cum! why can't you just let good things happen to you? ;(
B= Body part (favorite body part their own or their lovers)
mark loves your eyes <3 it's the first thing he's noticed from you. how they seemed to gleam and widen while you gave him your undivided attention. he can't count the amounts of times he had to excuse himself and jack off in the bathroom: imagining how your eyes would water with his cock stuck down your throat. or the way your eyebrows would furrow while he jack hammered into you.
C= Cum
yan mark definitely likes marking you with his cum. he likes to see it dripping off your face, along your belly, your thighs, but most importantly, he loves it when he watches it drip out of you. whether you can get pregnant or not - and good luck if you can - there's just something primal about cumming inside of you. marking you in and out.
D= Dirty secret
he's a masochist just as much as he's a sadist. his little obsession with you caused him to get a tattoo of your name <3 right at his adonis belt 🥺 so everytime he's in too deep,, your hands desperately try to hold his hips back,, and your blunt nails dig into the curved lines of your name. it never fails to make his eyes roll into the back of his head 🫶🏽🤭
E= Experience (do they know what they’re doing)
canon typical mark is (was) a blushy lil virgin but yan!mark has a tad bit more experience. he's attractive, he's funny, he knows how to play into the slightly awkward charm that got you to lower your defenses. so it's safe to say it isn't hard to find random hookups every now and then.
it's not all about his experience. he just knows what you like.
you may not know it, but he's. . done his research. and by that i mean, he's logged into your computer or your phone and looked through your browser history. he knows what kind of porn you like. and some of those things are borderline freaky. here you are, acting all innocent, like you wouldn't hurt a fly. or high and mighty like no one would ever dare snuff out your flame.
who would've known you were such a desperate slut?
but that's okay! because he's willing to do anything to satisfy you. . or humiliate you by making you cum. he feels it takes you down a peg, when he pins you down and makes you cum even though you don't want to. even though your mind is racing a mile a minute, trying to hold your climax back while he plays with your clit/cock.
unbeknownst to you, he's watched you masturbate. knows the right amount of pressure & speed that gets your toes curling. he knows you so well & he can't wait to learn more about you 💕
F= Favorite position
mark loves watching you squirm beneath him. most importantly, he loves taking you down. he might even make you think you can get away. the chase, the constant cat and mouse you'd subject him to used to be torture. your teasing, the occasional sliver of skin as you stretched, the way you'd lay your head on his lap as the two of you watched television, the way you'd grin when he blushed. . and the wrestling. god, the play wrestling.
he used to let you win. but now. . now this is real. there's real consequences. so he makes you think you can kick him off while you flail. maybe even lets you get up and run. your elbows are all scuffed during the struggle and he's given you a busted lip, but he lets you think you've won.
god knows he'll catch up eventually.
the games he'd play made you cocky. you thought you were stronger than him instead of considering that it was just him playing nice. so he loves to watch the look of defeat, of deception, anger, and disappointment towards yourself when it's revealed he could've had his way with you all along.
he loves to be on top.
but sometimes,
sometimes,
he likes it when you're on top. some things never change. and lets just say he didn't always let you win play wrestling just because he was trying to be a gentleman. but because he liked the way your weight felt on top of him as you grinned triumphantly, pinning his wrists down.
now, of course, things have changed. he can't let you have all the control. pity. but he forces you to ride him: his hand wrapped around your throat. he could really hurt you if he so much as wanted to. . something he hisses into your ear whenever your pace so much as falters. he makes you work for it. and it takes longer to make him cum when you ride him. fear makes you clumsy, makes your legs shake more, and you're sore and achy and tired, which makes it all the more fun.
so i think his fave is when he forces you to be on top :)
G= Goofy (how serious are they)
yan!mark teases you a lot. comments on how many times he's made you cum, pinches your nipples just to hear you squeal. he's only ever quiet and serious when he's in a bad mood.
H= Hair
mark's trimmed but not necessarily shaved.
you, on the other hand, have to be shaved. not because he finds it unattractive (if anything, it makes him feral. makes him feel like you're something meant to be conquered, something to be domesticated. controlled.)
hence his decision to have you shaved at all times. it's about control.
he forces you into the bath tub and watches as you shave, making sure you're all pretty for him. no, you don't get a say in the matter. you're his little doll. he'll do whatever he wants to you.
I= Intimacy (in the moment romantic or rough/dirty)
mark is rough. depending on the situation, he may start off slower, softer, easing into you while his words are pure venom. he's grinding into you, making you hiccup, because this type of 'love making' should be reserved for couples. not whatever the two of you have got going on. but of course, he speeds up. roughing you up the more into it he gets.
he's rough regardless of who the object of his affection is, but he's definitely rougher if you're on the masculine side. yan!mark doesn't like to be challenged. he doesn't like talk back. he doesn't like you running around thinking you're big and bad. so he has to knock you down a peg. force you to understand he's stronger than you.
he chokes you out, squeezing your throat until your vision spots. he likes to watch your face change colors. and when your mouth opens, desperately trying to suck in air, he spits onto your tongue 💗
likes it when you - confident, and tough, walking like nothing can ever hurt you - beg him to let you go. beg him not to kill you.
because, sometimes, you fear he just might.
J= Jack off (do they masturbate and how often)
he does! but when he gets you, there's really no need for that <3
when he hadn't kidnapped you, he'd masturbate all the time. it was the only way to relieve himself. like i rambled about before, he'd steal your underwear and cum into them, use them as tissues to wipe his abdomen clean.
secretly takes pictures of you - upskirts if you wear 'em,, or just candids. cums to your most mundane selfies.
if the two of you were close before he kidnapped you, debbie would send you all types of homemade treats. sweet or savory, whatever it was; you loved debbie's cooking. what you didn't know was that mark would add a little bit of his own . . twist to them. when you'd steal bites of his food, you always wondered why his tasted differently to yours.
and the way he'd stare at you as you ate, jesus.
you thought he just liked the way you'd wolf down whatever his mom cooked. turns out he just liked watching you eat his cum.
K= Kink (kinks what they like possibly unusual)
BREEDING!!! whether you can get pregnant or not, he loves the idea of claiming you for a lifetime. of changing your life and forcing you to carry his child. watching you grow round and hormonal. he knows he'd have to keep you on a tight leash; lest you do something you'll regret in order to escape your fate. but it'll be worth it. because after nine months, you'll have another life to look after. you'll be on edge all the time, protecting a fragile, little life, because you can't trust mark to do it.
after all, if you're really bad, he can always get rid of it. start all over again. and you wouldn't want that, would you~?
dacryphilia.
there's nothing like watching you cry. when you'd confide in him about your troubles, when you'd cry on his shoulder, seek solace in his company for whatever reason, and cry. . it'd be really hard to hide his erection. the first time you let yourself cry in front of him was a day he'd never forget. he couldn't stop thinking about it since. wonders if you tear up when someone fucks you. (you do. you will)
L= Location (where they like to get it on)
mark doesn't care where he takes you as long as he's got you. it can be in public or not, just as long as he takes you to the secondary location he'll keep you prisoner in. if it's in the au where nolan & him team up, there will be a compound with all the rebels. you'd be at the top floor in a comfy little penthouse. a gilded cage overlooking the remains of your burned city.
i think he'll first want to fuck you in a place where there'll be no interruptions. if it isn't in the au where him & nolan conquer earth, he knows how to play his role. doesn't want to risk being found raping you. he'll most likely fuck you in a place you hold dear to your heart. your bedroom, could be an example.
because wherever that safe space may be, you won't be able to stand being there without thinking about him.
M= Motivation (things that makes them tick/turn ons)
he likes it when you act so sure of yourself. when someone's a bit cocky and bossy. it's nice to break you.
it is a whole lot easier when someone's shyer, though. wallflowers always blend into the background.
no one misses them when they go missing.
N= No (turnoffs or absolutely won’t do)
there's almost nothing mark won't do to you, sorry ;( even if he doesn't like it. . even if you both don't like it. . he'll always find a way to humiliate you if you've been bad. so it's advised you be on your best behavior if you really don't want him to do some fucked up shit to you. & believe him: it hurts him more than it hurts you!!
all he's ever wanted was to own you.
you were meant for him.
so why fight?
you both know you're not getting out of this alive
O= Oral (receiving or giving and how skillful they are)
mark doesn't always give head unless it's to put you in your place. just to show you that he can make you cum and theres nothing you can do about it.
but he makes you choke on him all the time. he's impatient, forcing your head down and hiking his hips up to meet your face. if you've pissed him off, he'll pinch your nose and hold you down. loves to feel your nails dig into the bulk of his thigh. sometimes, you'll make him bleed. he doesn't care.
P= Pace (how fast they are and how long they last in bed)
mark doesn’t last very long BUT he’s got a very short refractory period and can go for countless rounds. by the time you cum once, he’s already cum like three times and he’s ready for more. by then, he’s already fucked dumb. so your next orgasms will be forced out of you, roughed up and overstimulated as his cum leaks out of you, his cum acting as lube and making the slide intoxicatingly easy.
Q= Quickie
basically non-existent. he loves giving you his undivided attention. and he never stops after one round ;(
R= Risk (do they like to try new things)
he loves trying new things with you. he's spent so much time fantasizing about you that he doesn't even know where to start the first time he gets his hands on you. he'll most likely force fuck you more than once in a day the first time he gets the chance to.
S= Stamina
(see pace <3)
T= Toys
loves using toys on you. if you’ve used them before him, he’ll force you to use them in front of him. it doesn’t take long before he takes control: grabbing them and fucking you with them. edging you. if you cum, then it’s only fair he cums, too, right? and you don’t really like that much ;( so best hold it in <3
U= Unfair (how do they tease? edge?)
mark loves to tease and edge you.
you say you hate him. you can't stand him touching you.
you bite and you snarl, kick and punch, yet when he has you pinned, edging you for hours on end. . you end up breaking. begging him to make you cum. of course, he coaches you through it. tells you he'll leave you alone once you cum, he promises. yet he drags it out for so long. hearing you ask to cum instead of asking him to stop is music to his ears.
except, mark is a liar. you shouldn't trust him.
he just ends up overstimulating you after you cum😒
V= Volume
lots of whispering and hissing, talks very quietly and carefully. you'd think he'd be loud. . but he's not. and despite the fact that he may say vile, disgusting things to you, he whispers them to you so nicely. . if he were saying anything else it'd be sweet. he's so patronizing ;( whimpers in your ear when he's close.
W= Wild card
really into pain.
since he's got his powers, it's not very often that he feels pain. sure, there are some fights with villains - while he's out playing the perfect hero in the mean time - that give him a few flashes of pain. but that's once a blue moon.
nothing compares to you.
you fight him like you're afraid he might kill you. and he might. but it's never his intention ;( he knows what kills and what doesn't (trust him) &, believe it or not, he doesn't want to lose you. but you fight him with such intensity he has to manhandle you more than he'd like.
your hits are surprisingly hard. you claw at him and punch and kick, and he's thought about breaking your legs more times than he can count - he still might if you catch him on a bad day - but then that'd leave you completely immobilized and that's really no fun. because he likes it when you make him bleed. he likes it when your hands slap against his face and when your nails try to claw his eyes out. he wears the bruises and the cuts you give him like badges of honor and he loves to bite his busted lip when he's close to cumming.
he loves it when you hurt him. and he loves it when he ends up winning, anyway.
X= X-ray (size)
5-6in & THICK. really pretty w/ plump balls. he cums SO much.
Y= Yearning (sex drive level)
he's got a HIGH sex drive.
you've teased him for so long he doesn't think he'll ever get enough of you. and there's nothing you can do to stop him. if the two of you weren't close - if the two of you weren't friends, etc. - there's nothing you can do to lay low. you'll catch his attention sooner or later and he'll weasel his way into your life before you even realize it. his intentions would appear pure at first. he'd be so caring, wondering if you're doing okay, and protective; who were you talking to? i don't think they're good for you~
and you listened. because it's mark you're talking about. but if you truly knew him, you'd realize his accusations were actually projections.
Z= Zzz (do they sleep after if so how quickly after)
falls asleep fairly quickly after he's wrung himself dry. but that's only IF he's already taken you hostage. if he so happens to assault you while the two of you aren't where he'd like to keep you, he takes you there, first. coupled with his strange idea of aftercare, he is fairly affectionate. or as affectionate as you'd expect him to be, anyway. always with a hint of menace: he'd hold you tight against him, an arm around your waist and the other wrapped around your throat. making sure you don't so much as think about straying away from him 💗💗
#mark grayson#invincible#invincible x reader#mark grayson x reader#yandere mark grayson x reader#mark grayson brain rot#can't stop imagining mark being an absolute creep#“when will my husband come back from war”#but it's just some psycho#do you think yan! mark listens to deftones#korea & lovers are his songs#mascara is if he's still pretending to be normal#& baby traps u or something#so now u have to get marrieeeddd eee#when he follows in his dad's footsteps#making u a stay at home parent while he saves the world#but ur being held hostage#listen to it now i am in ur walls
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Because she was an intentionally mysterious woman initially only seen in a single episode, and before she got an on-air backstory in the recent streaming series, Star Trek supplementary material developed contradictory information on who - or what - Number One, the female first executive officer of the Enterprise, was. To my count, she has four different, completely incompatible backstories in the comics and novels, and this is absolutely unique in Star Trek, which usually keeps it consistent.
Peter David, in his New Frontier novels, identified Number One as a long lived immortal human mutant (like Flint from the original series) named “Morgan Primus” who was an early genius in cybernetics and artificial intelligence, which is why the Enterprise computer has her voice. One of the names Morgan Primus assumed to hide her immortality was Morgan Lefler, and one of her daughters was Robin Lefler, Wesley Crusher’s love interest from the Next Generation Series played by Ashley Judd. Robin Lefler did not inherit her mutant ability to heal all injuries.
Alternatively, the DC Star Trek Comics of the early 1980s said that Number One was from an obscure planet of peaceful, open, friendly telepaths who resemble humans exactly, and that she was present at first contact with Starfleet. They explained that her blunt, direct, undiplomatic manner is due to her being from a telepathic culture that values total honesty. This would make her the first telepath on the Enterprise, with Spock and Arex coming later. Her planet was created before the Next Generation, but her species being a peaceful, open, telepathic race resembling Mediterranean humans who are not well known or commonly encountered in the original series era….well, that certainly sounds an awful lot like Betazoids to me. If this backstory is true, she may have been the first Betazoid seen on screen, in much the same way fans generally believe Trelane was either Q or a member of the Q Continuum.
D.C. Fontana’s only Star Trek novel, “Vulcan’s Glory,” was one of the earliest attempts to give the character a backstory, and was the most consequential long term. The first novel set in the era of the first Star Trek pilot with Captain Pike and a young Spock, "Vulcan's Glory" identified Number One as being an Illyrian, a race of human-like beings who specialize in species wide breeding programs and genetic improvement. This genetic superiority is why she was cool, intellectual, aloof, and a bit arrogant. Her nickname “Number One” came from the fact she was the supreme product of the hyper-competitive Illyrian system, and won at everything from academics to athletics. According to DC Fontana, her actual Illyrian name is impossible to pronounce, so when dealing with humans, she assumed the human name “Una Chin-Riley.” Una of course, being “Number One” in Greek.
As DC Fontana is such an important figure in Star Trek history and only actually wrote one Star Trek novel in her life, many future materials used the backstory established in “Vulcan’s Glory,” like the David Stern Pike-era novels of the 2010s....but more importantly, the Discovery and Strange New Worlds series, which canonized the “Una Chin-Reilly” name by using it on screen (I remember gasping when Pike called her Una in a Discovery episode, meaning they were going with the Fontana backstory, a detail that may not have been significant to the casual viewer). Since DC Fontana wrote “Vulcan’s Glory” in the 80s, a lot more information was learned about the role of genetic engineering in the Federation, however, and interesting things were done in that series to bring her in line with everything we’ve learned since in Deep Space 9 and Enterprise about augmentation and the society wide prejudice against it. For example, they established that the fact Number One was Illyrian was not public knowledge, but that she pretended to be human her entire life.
The one person who didn’t see fit to give her a backstory or even a real name was John "Johnny Redbeard" Byrne in his comic series about the Cage era Enterprise, who thought the mystery of the character was the most interesting thing about her, and he was deliberately cagey about any details. To Johnny Redbeard, she was just “Number One.” There was a running joke that every time someone says her actual name, or when we see her personnel file, it was blurred out, or somebody’s thumb was over it, and so on. It was rather like the running joke where Mr. Burns never remembers Homer Simpson's name. Johnny Redbeard loves mystery men and women who don't talk about their past, since that was the characterization he famously gave to Wolverine in his X-Men comics.
The one detail of Number One's past that is clear is that Number One in Byrne's comics is competent, mysterious, and has mystique, certainly, but she is completely human, without any powers. Byrne always got exasperated that his X-Men co-creator Chris Claremont added fantastical and far out details to the background of X-Men characters (like how Nightcrawler's girlfriend Amanda turned out to be a sorceress) because he felt "some people should just be allowed to be normal." Byrne always said his original idea for Wolverine's "true" backstory was that he was a Vietnam veteran in intelligence who volunteered for bionic experiments that wiped his memory, and disliked the idea he was immortal, and vetoed the very, very early Dave Cockrum idea Wolverine was an actual mutated wolverine who achieved sentience and a human shape (which early X-Men comics hint at). Byrne was reportedly enraged that they gave Moira MacTaggart a mutant power, as he saw her as just being a scrappy Scottish housekeeper.
Johnny Redbeard didn’t give Number One a past (other than to show she was on the Enterprise's shakedown cruise with Robert April as a rookie officer), but he did give her a future, as he showed an older Number One as a starship commander in the Kirk era (aging gracefully with a white tuft like Tongolele), and later, a flag officer in the Motion Picture era.
To what extent are these backstories compatible? Well, with what we currently know about Number One, that she hid her true species and status to avoid prejudice, it could be that some of the other versions were tall tales she spread to obscure her true origins. The John Byrne idea she served as an Ensign with Robert April in the Enterprise's very first mission hasn't been confirmed, but hasn't been denied, either. The Peter David "Morgan Primus" backstory is completely incompatible, but perhaps there are some elements to it that are true, like the idea that the early part of her career involved working as a computer engineer in artificial intelligence, which is why the computer has her voice.
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a stranger's heart without a home masterlist
Pairing: rivals to friends with benefits slowburn Joel x F!Reader, Post-Outbreak
Fic Summary: Sleeping with Joel Miller was supposed to be a one time thing. When the older brother of your closest friend showed up in Jackson, you hadn't expected him to stay more than a day. You'd both given into a brief moment of passion before he left, and that was the end of that. It didn't matter, you were never going to see him again. Then Joel returns a few months later, and screws up everything about the comforting life you had established in Jackson.
Fic Tags: One Night Stands, Rivals into Friends with Benefits, Emotional Slow Burn (really slow), Eventual Romance, Mutual Pining Idiots, Angst & Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Found Family (lots of Tommy & Reader and Dina & Reader friendships), Long Chapters
Fic Warnings: Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI), Language, Canon-Typical Violence, Alcohol Use, Age Difference (Reader in her 30s, Joel 56) Themes of Grief/PTSD/Depression with mentions of death (family members, both Reader and Joel) that can be heavy at times, Specific Warnings in each Chapter
Status: Complete
ao3 link
official art by @cynibuns
tribute edit by @dundienominee
moodboard/graphic by @planet-marz1
Reader fanart by @mydzygro-art
masterlist (no longer posting on tumblr, check ao3 for new fics)
chapter 1: I am not the only traveler
chapter 2: the holidays linger like bad perfume
chapter 3: do I wanna know if this feeling flows both ways (18+ Smut)
chapter 4: there it is again, that funny feeling
chapter 5: break the silence; damn the dark, damn the light
chapter 6: and I'll never see you again if I can help it (18+ Smut)
chapter 7: look at us, you and I, back at it again (18+ Smut)
chapter 8: maybe I don't quite know what to say, but I'm here in your doorway
chapter 9: I thought that you’d be here by now (18+ Smut)
chapter 10: can the killer in me tame the fire in you?
chapter 11: this slope is treacherous, this path is reckless (18+ Smut)
chapter 12: you take what you get, and you turn it into honesty
chapter 13: burned out flames should never reignite, but I thought you might take me home (18+ Smut)
chapter 14: he built a fire just to keep me warm
chapter 15: speak to me until your history’s no mystery to me
chapter 16: and it feels good to be known so well (18+ Smut)
chapter 17: baby, it's Halloween, and we can be anything (18+ Smut)
chapter 18: yes, I'll admit that I'm a fool for you (18+ Smut)
chapter 19: either I'm careless or I wanna get caught (18+ Smut)
chapter 20: with your boots beneath my bed; forever is the sweetest con (18+ Smut)
epilogue (18+ Smut)
(listed in order of how they occur after the main fic)
morning after chapter 20
waking up to oral (18+ Smut)
painfully domestic (kisses to get their attention)
lingerie & breeding kink (18+ Smut)
(epilogue takes place here)
half-asleep, half-awake (Joel POV companion piece to main fic)
not much I need (nonsexual intimacy)
kissing scars
easy, plaid-shirt mornings (18+ Smut)
would it be enough if I could never give you peace? (Reader's anxiety)
a feeling so peculiar (seasonal depression)
chapter 13 sneak peek (Jealous!Joel's POV Date Scene)
chapter 13 scene (Jealous!Joel Smut after Date 18+)
chapter 13 cut endings (Angst af)
chapter 14 sneak peek (Reflection Joel's POV)
chapter 15 sneak peek (Totally Casual Drinks Between Friends)
chapter 16 sneak peek (Dina and Ellie Plan)
chapter 17 sneak peek (The Dance)
chapter 18 sneak peek (Joel Pines for You)
chapter 18 secret scene (Tommy finally fucking figures it out)
chapter 19 sneak peek (Tommy and Reader)
fic playlist
MC playlist
Taylor-coded MC playlist (for my fellow Swifties!)
Joel POV playlist
#joel x reader#joel miller x reader#joel x reader smut#joel miller smut#joel miller hurt/comfort#joel miller angst#joel miller fluff#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller series#joel miller x f!reader#fic masterlist#a stranger's heart series
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The Witching Hour - Chapter 4 - Morrigan
Summary:
5 Times members of the Inner Circle get absolutely terrified by Azriel's...whatever she is, and 1 (of many) times Azriel thinks that his witch was the best thing that ever happened to him.
Warnings:
Seeing the future, Mor bashing, mention of rough but consensual sex
(super pretty dividers by @cafekitsune)
"You invited who to lunch?" Mor breathed. Feyre looked at her, a flicker of something in his expression. Concern, maybe?
"Cate agreed to join us," she said, his voice steady. "She might be our best chance of helping Elain."
Mor closed her eyes. "You invited Cate to lunch? Are you serious?" she hissed at Feyre. “Does Rhys know about this?" Mor demanded. Probably not, because she was quite sure that her cousin would have put a fucking stop to it.
Feyre let out a deep breath. "No," she admitted. "I haven't told Rhys yet."
Mor's eyes widened. "You haven't told him? Are you out of your mind?" she demanded. Rhys was going to be utterly furious and Mor couldn’t even fault him for it.
At Feyre's side, Nesta let out a snort, a small smirk on her lips.
Hecate was… morally questionable on a good day.
She disappeared for decades and then showed up somewhere, wrecking havoc only to disappear again. Morrigan was quite sure that she had fingers in every bit of political unrest of the last thousand years in some way or another. That was literally what she was known for.
Witches were a dying breed, rare and often assassinated for the power they possessed...but nobody had yet managed to killed Hecate The Undying. Which was too bad.
Feyre's irritation flared at Mor's words, but she tried to keep her voice steady. "Look, I understand your reservations about Cate, but...she's willing to help us with Elain. That's what matters right now."
Mor's expression darkened even further. "You have no idea what you're getting yourself into, Feyre,” she implored her friend. “Cate is... dangerous.” That didn’t even begin to cover it. Dangerous was a fucking understatement. “You don't want her involved in this."
"So everybody keeps telling. But nobody says what exactly makes her oh so dangerous," Feyre said with a roll of her eyes. Mor considered throttling her High Lady. "Azriel gets along with her so she can't be that bad, right?" Feyre asked her. Mor clenched her jaw, frustration welling up within her.
Feyre was always so stubborn, so determined to see the best in everyone. It was endearing but also infuriating.
"You don't understand," she said through gritted teeth. "Cate may look harmless enough, but she's...unpredictable. Unhinged. She has a history of crossing lines, of violating boundaries, both physical and mental.And while Azriel gets along with her," Mor continued, her tone sharp. "That's not a good thing. Azriel and Cate have a...complicated history, to say the least. They've gotten far too close, in more ways than one."
Feyre rolled her eyes. "I'm sure they've spent some time... together."
Mor wanted to grab Feyre and shake her. "That's putting it lightly," she said, her voice strained. "They've done much more than just spend time together, and their...relationship has never been entirely...healthy."
Feyre's expression remained unchanged. "So what if they've slept together?" she said, her voice calm and level. "They're both consenting adults. I fail to see why it's such a big deal."
Mor felt her irritation flare, and she struggled to keep her voice even. "You don't understand," she repeated, her tone bordering desperation. "What they do…it's...it's not normal. Not healthy. It's a toxic..habit."
"I like how you are comparing me to a mirthroot addiction."
Morrigan growled, turning around. There she was.
Mor's gaze hardened as Cate made her entrance, strolling in as if it was the most natural thing in the world. It infuriated her how cavalier the female could be, as if she didn't have a care in the world.
Yet, despite herself, Mor found her eyes being drawn to the female, taking in her effortless beauty. Cate hadn't changed over the centuries. Still breathtakingly beautiful.Yes, Cate was undeniably attractive, but she was also dangerous. Lethal, even.
Mor blinked as she took in the dress she wore. For one moment she may have called it modest, with long sleeves and a floor-length skirt...and then she blinked and the off-the-shoulder neckline revealed bruises and bite marks that covered Cate’s neck and shoulder.
Mor felt her eyes widening at the sight of the marks marring Cate's skin.
She knew the female was unrestrained, that she had no reservations about her body or her...encounters with Azriel, but seeing the evidence of her...dalliances on display was still jarring, to say the least. Mor's eyes darkened as she noticed Feyre's gaze flickering to the marks, a flicker of curiosity and...something else in her expression. Something that made Mor's blood boil.
This was not the time to let her mind wander to thoughts of Azriel and the things he had done with this female. She had to keep her focus, keep her mind on the task at hand.
But it was hard, when Cate was standing there, dressed to tantalize, with the physical reminders of her time with Azriel on full display. It was like a mockery, a taunt, a reminder of the closeness between them.
Mor clenched her fists to keep her hands from shaking, her irritation growing with every passing moment. She had to focus, to keep herself composed, even as the sight of Cate's body, marked and dishevelled, sent a shameful thrill of something through her.
She could feel Feyre's gaze on her, watching her reaction to the female like a hawk. Mor forced her face to remain impassive, refusing to give anything away. She couldn't let herself be distracted by her own complicated feelings towards the female, or the things she knew - and didn't know - that Cate and Azriel had done together.
But it was hard, so damn hard, when Cate was standing right there. Mor could almost feel the heat radiating off her, as if the female was trying to taunt her, to push her buttons.
And it was working. Mor could feel her own blood heating, her body responding to the sight of the female against her will. It took all her willpower to maintain her composure and keep a neutral expression on her face.
As if sensing her struggle, Cate let out a soft laugh, a sly smile playing on her lips. "You look like you're about to explode, Mor. Something wrong?" she teased, her voice low and almost sensual.
Mor gritted her teeth, her knuckles turning white as she clenched her fists tighter. She knew Cate was enjoying this, enjoying the effect she was having on her. It was almost infuriating, the way she could get under her skin with such ease.
But Mor refused to give her the satisfaction of seeing her lose her composure. She forced herself to take a deep breath and look Cate straight in the eye. "I'm fine," she said through gritted teeth. "Just….fine."
Cate's smile widened, her eyes sparkling. "Oh, come on now, Mor. We both know that's not true." She took a slow, deliberate step towards her, closing the distance between them. "You're a terrible liar. Always have been."
Mor's heart thumped in her chest as Cate moved closer, her movements like a predator closing in on its prey. She could feel the heat radiating off the female's body, the scent of something rich and foreign filling her nostrils.
"Why are you even here?" Mor snapped.
Cate's smile turned amused. "Oh, I'm here for lunch, of course. Didn't you get the invite?"
Mor's irritation flared even further. The female always had such a nonchalant attitude, never taking anything seriously. It was infuriating.
"Don't play coy with me," she snapped. "We both know why you're really here."
Cate let out a low laugh, her eyes glittering. "Oh, do we now? And why's that?" she asked, feigning innocence.
Mor's irritation boiled over, her voice rising. "Azriel. You're here for him, aren't you?"
Cate arched an eyebrow, her expression unreadable. She looked around, eyes clearly moving around the room, carefully turning around her own axis. "Azriel is nowhere to be seen," she said drily.
"You know what I mean," Mor retorted, her voice sharp. "You're always after him, always pestering him.”
Cate let out another soft laugh, her eyes glimmering with something dangerous. "Oh, Morrigan. Always so protective. And jealous."
Mor's lips curled at the word. "'I am not jealous," she bit out.
Cate stepped closer, her voice dropping to a whisper.
"No? Then why do you look like you want to rip my throat out right now? Were it the bite marks that pushed you over the edge? You don't like the visible evidence that Azriel enjoys everything we do? If you wanted him for yourself, Morrigan, you could have," Cate said with a shrug. "He would have never refused you. By the cauldron, he spent centuries yearning for you, only for you to strangle him with his feelings at every opportunity."
Mor felt like she had just been punched in the gut. Cate's words cut right through her. Of course, she knew about Azriel's feelings for her, his unwavering devotion. And of course, she knew she had been nothing but a coward.
But hearing it thrown in her face like this, hearing Cate say it so nonchalantly, was like pouring salt on an open wound.
And the worst part was that Cate was right. Azriel had waited for her for centuries, only for her to push him away at every turn. Mor had known all this, had carried the weight of her cowardice for so long. And hearing Cate speak it out loud, in that nonchalant, almost taunting tone, made her feel like a fool.
But she refused to show weakness. Not in front of Cate.
She set her jaw, meeting Cate's gaze with a defiant glare.
"Don't pretend like you actually care about Azriel," she snapped. "You just use him. You use everyone."
"Oh that's rich, coming from you," Cate replied, her own expression hardening. "You've been using him for centuries, playing with his feelings like a cat toys with a mouse. Always just out of reach, just close enough to keep him coming back for more."
It was like a stinging slap. Mor felt the color drain from her face. Because Cate was right. She had been using Azriel for decades, using his feelings and devotion to keep him close, even though she knew she would never return those feelings.
Despite herself, her eyes stung with tears at the truth in the words. She had been lying to herself for so long, pretending to be the victim in all this. But Cate had laid out the reality, plain and simple, and Mor had never felt more exposed.
Mor tried to gather her wits, to come up with a snappy retort, but her mind was blank, her tongue thick and heavy in her mouth. For once in her life, she was at a loss for words
"For somebody that keeps insisting your power is truth, you can't seem to take it dished to you," Cate said darkly. "And for the record, I am only here because the High Lady thought that I may be able to help Elain. I'm a seer, just like her, remember?" she said, her voice sardonic. "And I might just have a bit more experience in dealing with my gift than Elain has. I have spent over a millennia in this world after all. It's possible I may be able to help her learn to control her power."
Despite herself, Mor's eyes widened slightly. It was a logical explanation, a valid reason for Cate's presence. But there was a part of her, a small, bitter part, that still couldn't accept it.
"And why would you help her?" she asked, her voice cold."What do you stand to gain from helping Elain?"
Cate's eyes gleamed with annoyance. "This may be hard to believe, but not everyone in the world is as self-absorbed as you," she taunted. "Maybe I'm just a nice person and I want to help another fellow Seer not drown in her visions and nightmares, hm? Did you ever consider that possibility?"
Mor gritted her teeth. She hated the way her heart lurched at Cate's biting words, the way they dug into her insecurities. "You don't exactly seem like the 'nice person' type," she shot back. "Forgive me for being suspicious."
"Your suspicions are noted, but you're wrong," Cate said with a shrug. "I don't do everything I do from some twisted motivation. I have feelings, you know. I'm not an emotionless monster."
Mor snorted, unable to hide her disbelief. "You could have fooled me," she said with a roll of her eyes.
Cate shot her a venomous glare. "You know, just because I'm not always wearing my heart on my sleeve doesn't mean I don't have feelings," she snapped. "Not everyone shows emotions in the same way you do, Morrigan."
Mor's stomach clenched as the words hit home. She knew that all too well. Just because she expressed her emotions outwardly, in words and actions, didn't mean everyone else did as well.
Still, she couldn't help but snark: "You don't show them at all most of the time."
"Maybe that's because I've learned to keep my feelings guarded, especially around people like you," Cate shot back, her voice sharp. "You have a habit of using people's emotions against them."
Mor's chest tightened. Cate was right again, and it stung. She had done it with Azriel time and time again, playing on his feelings for her, keeping him just close enough to keep him hoping for more. She hated herself for it, but she had done it anyway.
She couldn't stop the words from escaping her mouth. "And you don't?"
"Not like you," Cate retorted, her eyes narrowing. "| may flirt with everyone, but at least I'm upfront about it. I never promise more than I'm willing to give, and I don't play with people's hearts like you do."
"Can we go back to Elain now?" Nesta snapped.
Mor blinked, only just remembering that Nesta was in the room. She had been so focused on the back and forth with Cate that she had practically forgotten about the other females.
The sound of Nesta's voice snapped her out of her thoughts and back to reality. She looked over at the other female, who was looking less than amused.
"Gladly," Cate said with a roll of her eyes. "Where is she?"
"In the garden, I think," Mor said, her voice cracking slightly. She took a deep breath, trying to regain her composure. "She says the sunshine helps."
Cate pushed off the wall, straightening her dress. "Well let's go, then," she said briskly. "The sooner we get to Elain, the sooner I can get out of here."
Mor gritted her teeth, her irritation flaring. "What's wrong, not enjoying yourself?" she sniped back.
"Oh, I'm having a wonderful time," Cate said drily, giving Mor a mocking smile. "Your sparkling personality just makes it all worthwhile."
Feyre bit out a laugh at that. Mor glared at her.
"The sunshine keeps the visions at bay," Feyre explained, growing serious as she led them down the garden path. "Is that…normal?"
Cate nodded. "Yes and no," she said, her attention focused on the path ahead. "It's normal for someone just coming into their power. The visions and images can be overwhelming, especially in a dark environment. But as a seer becomes more practised, they learn to control their power and it becomes less dependent on external factors like light or darkness."
"Elain?" Nesta called out to her sister, who was digging by the roses. Elain was lovely as always, a Sunhat on her head. "There is somebody we want you to meet."
Elain turned, her expression polite and open. She looked at the group of them, her gaze lingering on Cate.
Her gaze shuttered.
"Oh no," Feyre breathed.
Elain was having one of her visions.
The words spilt from Elain's lips, her voice low and strained, as though it took great effort to speak them.
"One who was Death must become Undying, for the thread of their souls are twined through the ages. They shall fight side by side in battle, their fates intermingled."
"Interesting," Cate murmured.
Mor felt her heart rate speed up at the words. Even without knowing their meaning, they sent a shiver down her spine. Death becomes Undying. It sounded...ominous.
But Cate seemed unaffected, casually intrigued.
"Is that always how they are?" Cate asked, as Elain's gaze cleared.
Feyre looked at her sister, concern written all over her face. Her voice was low as she said, "Yes. They're always like that. Vague and mysterious."
Elain blinked, her gaze slowly regaining focus. She seemed dazed, disoriented
"What did you see, Elain?" Feyre asked gently.
Elain shook her head as though trying to clear away the fog. "I don't...I'm not sure," she said weakly.
Cate took a step forward, her gaze sharp on Elain. "Can you tell me what you do remember?" she asked, her voice soft yet firm.
Elain frowned, her brow furrowing as she tried to recall.
"Not much," she admitted. "There were….shadows," she said slowly. "And a field of corpses."
Mor's heart dropped at the words. Shadows and corpses...it sounded like a battlefield.
Cate pulled out a crystal ball out of her pocket, not any bigger than a fist. Mor watched as Cate held the crystal ball up, the sunlight refracted off its surface and casting little rainbows over the ground.
"What are you doing?" Feyre asked, her voice wary.
"It's easier for a Seer if they have a...focus of sorts," Cate said simply, holding it out for Elain. Elain regarded the crystal ball with a mixture of caution and curiosity. She slowly reached out and took it.
Nothing happened.
"Just like I thought," Cate said drily. "You aren't a seer. You are an oracle."
"What's the difference?" Nesta asked, unable to keep the sharpness out of her voice.
"A seer has the ability to control their power to some degree," Cate explained, her gaze still fixed on Elain. "They are able to see into the future...and if you have a guide, a focus like a crystal ball, a seer can flip through all the different possibilities."
"An oracle, on the other hand..it's a power given by the mother herself. They see what the mother wills and when. They have no control what they see, no way of interpreting them. It just comes to them in flashes, with no context or explanation."
Mor's eyes widened as she listened to Cate's words. An oracle? That didn't sound...good.
Oracles, like Cate said, had no control over their powers. They never knew what they would see or when. It sounded like a living nightmare.
And poor Elain...she had no idea what had just been dropped on her lap.
The crystal ball exploded in Elain's hand.
It happened so fast, that Mor didn't even have a chance to react. One moment, Elain was holding the crystal ball, the next it shattered in an explosion of sparkling pieces.
Feyre squeaked, Mor froze..it was a wave of Cate's magic that enveloped Elain, that kept her safe as the crystal ball shattered in her hand.
As the shards of the crystal ball rained down, Cate's magic enveloped Elain like a shimmering shield. The pieces bounced harmlessly against it, falling uselessly to the ground.
There was a breathless moment of silence, as everyone stood frozen, processing what had just happened
Mor knew that this was just a small taste of Cate's vast magical reservoir...a small stream coming from an ocean.
Mor watched as the magic around Elain slowly faded, disappearing like steam on a window.
Cate's expression was unbothered, her voice steady as she said, "As I said. An oracle."
"So I have no control?" Elain asked, her voice small. "'Il always be at the mercy of these...these visions?"
Cate's expression softened, her voice gentle as she replied. "In a way, yes. The visions will come to you, whether you want them to or not. But with proper guidance...it doesn't have to be overwhelming. I can teach you how to deal with the power, to not let it consume you."
Elain looked at Cate, a spark of hope in her eyes. "You can?" she asked, her voice tremulous.
Cate gave a small nod. "Yes," she said. "It won't be easy, and it will take time and practice. But I can help you learn to control the power, rather than letting the power control you."
Mor watched the exchange, her heart thudding in her chest. Cate's words sparked a flicker of hope within her, a hope that perhaps Elain might not be cursed to live a life of constant visions.
But at the same time, she couldn't shake the feeling that having Cate around for extended periods of time would be... troublesome, to put it mildly.
Cate's presence in Velaris would undoubtedly stir up many emotions, especially among the Inner Circle members. And the thought of having to deal with her witty remarks and sarcastic comments on a daily basis was enough to make Mor's headache worsen.
"Out of pure interest, who told you she was a Seer?" Cate wondered
"Azriel did," Elain answered softly. "I thought I was going insane."
Cate's gaze sharpened, her lips curving into a small smirk. "Oh, Azriel did, huh? Seems like | will need to give Azriel a primer in magical abilities once more."
Mor's eyebrows rose at Cate's tone. It was almost….playful. And the thought of her playfully mocking Azriel, poking at the shadowsinger to rile him up was...
"You know him?" Elain wondered, her gaze suddenly starting to take in the bite marks all over her neck and shoulder. Mor watched her swallow as she took that in.
Cate chuckled, her eyes sparkling. "Oh, very well," she said, her voice laced with mirth. "We've been...acquainted for quite some time now. I do understand how he came up with it, he has seen me have visions more than once. But he's never been good with understanding the nuances of power," Cate added, her voice dropping into a mocking octave as she imitated Azriel's deep voice. "Sees the shadows, misses everything else."
Mor found herself smirking, unable to help herself. The idea of Cate being able to get under Azriel's skin so effortlessly, to tease him so effortlessly...it was almost endearing, in a twisted way.
There was something about Cate, in that moment, that was so very...genuine. Her eyes sparkled with mischief, her lips curved up in a small smirk. She was utterly unguarded, with no hint of pretence or artifice in her
Mor cursed herself internally, annoyed at how quickly she had been distracted by the other female. She despised Cate, and yet...there was something about her presence, her behaviour, that was captivating.
Mor forced herself to focus, to steer her thoughts in a different direction. She couldn't afford to let herself be distracted by Cate's mercurial nature, not now. There were more important matters to attend to, like the fact that Elain was an oracle.
She looked over at Elain, who still looked worried and overwhelmed by the revelation. She felt a pang of sympathy for the young fae. To suddenly have this power thrust upon her, to be told that she would have no control over it...it had to be a terrifying prospect.
"You are in good hands now," Cate promised Elain easily. "We'll get a handle on it...'ll find you some books to read."
There was a hint of softness in her tone, a flicker of concern in her gaze. It was a side of Cate that Mor hadn't seen before, one that contrasted sharply with her usual sarcastic and standoffish nature.
Elain smiled weakly, her shoulders slumping in relief.
“Thank you," she said softly.
Cate gave a small nod, her expression gentling. "Of course," she said, her voice gruff yet sincere.
Mor felt a pang of irritation as Cate's gaze landed on her, her expression shuttering back into its usual cold mask.
She swallowed back a biting response, not in the mood to start another argument.
But even as she forced herself to remain quiet, Mor couldn't help but feel a spark of defiance. She would not let Cate get the better of her.
Cate's gaze bore into hers, a silent challenge passing between them. Mor met it head-on, refusing to look away. Neither of them spoke, the air around them thick with tension and suppressed energy.
Finally, Cate's lips quirked up in a small smirk, as though amused by the tension she had caused. “You know,” she drawled. “If you keep staring at me, Morrigan, people might think you like me.”
Mor’s eyes narrowed, her irritation flaring. “And if you keep opening your mouth, people might think you’re intelligent,” she retorted, her voice dripping with sarcasm.”
Cate's smirk grew, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh, come on. Don't pretend you don't enjoy our little verbal spars. It's the highlight of your day, I'm sure."
"The highlight of my day is when you're not in my presence," Mor snapped, her temper fraying. "Believe me, I could go without seeing your face...or the evidence of your animalistic couplings."
"Ouch," Cate said, feigning a wince. "That one stung. I didn't realise you were so jealous of my...activities. By the way, mostly it's Azriel telling me how perfect I am," Cate shot back easily. Elain looked like she would rather be anywhere else, while Nesta bit back a laugh.
Mor's jaw dropped, her mind struggling to process what she'd just heard. Cate, with the arrogance and audacity to claim that people... that Azriel found her 'perfect'. It was utterly ridiculous.
But as she stared at Cate, seeing the cool, almost amused expression on the other woman's face...she couldn't help but wonder if it was true.
"If you hurt him..." she whispered, threatening...for one moment Cate's aura blew wide open. Green magic sparked at the very tips of her fingers.
Mor's heart seized in her chest, her breath catching in her throat as Cate's magic burst free. It crackled in the air, a low hum that sent a shiver down her spine.
For a moment, Cate's expression dropped completely, replaced by something dark and dangerous. Her eyes glowed almost unnaturally, and her magic swirled around her like a living thing.
But then, as quickly as it had come, it was gone. Cate's expression smoothed back into its usual cool indifference, and her magic retracted back into her skin.
"Don't forget who spent 500 years hurting him," Cate said quietly. "It wasn't me, Morrigan."
Mor's hands clenched into fists, her nails digging into her palms. She wanted to snap back, to deny Cate's words, out she knew there was no point.
Cate was right. Mor had hurt Azriel. Deeply, irreparably.
And there was no way she could deny it.
"Do not threaten me for something you have done," Cate said quietly. "I have never laid a hand on Azriel in any way that he didn't want me to."
Mor swallowed hard, her heart thudding in her chest.
Cate's words struck her to her very core.
She knew it was true. Cate had shown Azriel more kindness, more compassion than she had in centuries.
And yet, a part of her couldn't help but feel resentful.
Resentful at the way Cate had so easily inserted herself into Azriel's life, replacing Mor in a way she hadn't been able to.
"I'll send you that book list," Cate said calmly.
Mor nodded stiffly, not trusting herself to speak. Her throat felt tight, her body tense from the onslaught of emotions she had experienced in the last few minutes.
She watched as Cate gave Elain a reassuring pat on the arm, her gaze flicking briefly to Mor before she turned to leave.
And in that moment, as Cate walked away, Mor was struck by a sudden wave of realisation. Cate was not simply a friend, or a sexual partner, or a convenient outlet for Azriel's anger and tension.
No...there was something more between them. Something that Mor had failed to see in all her years of knowing Azriel. Something that was now glaringly obvious in the other woman's presence.
And it scared her. It scared Mor more than any battle, any enemy, ever had.
#acotar fanfiction#azriel x reader#azriel x oc#my writing#azriel fanfic#azriel fanfiction#The Witching Hour
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Pedro’s Characters: The Dick-tionary
How big are Pedro Pascal’s characters and some NSFW headcannons
(WARNING: DETAILS OF PENISES AND TALKS OF SEX - MDNI)
Part Two <3
A/N: Sorry I never continued Fluff February :(, I lost motivation so I’ll just write them and post them as a prompt list for whenever…
Joel Miller:
Okay, all his characters are big, it’s a known fact, but Joel is 100% the biggest. Probably about 8.5 inches, with a pretty pink mushroom tip, and GIRTHY AGH! There’s a vein on it that is really visible when he’s hard. Oh and his balls are big too. Everything about Joel is just big. Not only is he big but you best believe he knows how to use it too. He’s got a daddy kink… Fav positions are missionary and cowgirl, however when he’s angry doggy or the mating press are a no-brainer. Daddy kink! DOMINANT!!! There’s no way this man is a sub, it just doesn’t work, he’s just so dom yknow, and when he’s soft, he’s the sweetest he’s ever been, but if he’s angry, hard dom Joel comes out and that’s a man you don’t wanna piss off if you wanna cum. He’s got such a daddy kink. “Fuck babygirl/boy, you’re so fucking sweet, sugar. So fucking good for daddy. Yeah baby? You like that? Such a good little girl/boy, so fucking sweet.” Daddy kink is such is a big thing for him. Hair wise? Well it’s the apocalypse so it’s probably hard to find the Manscaper 3000 or whatever. He trims his hair with some scissors, honestly he didn’t really care for shaving before you, so he just let it grow, but once when you were sucking him, you almost sneezed from how much it tickled your nose and made a little joke about it after, which made Joel feel a little bad so he cut them just a little shorter. Oh I’m sorry and did I mention… DADDY KINK!!!
Javier Peña:
(Here I’m purely writing about Javier Pena in a fictional sense AS PEDRO, not the real guy, this has nothing to do with the real Javier Pena)
Okay, Javier, my baby daddy. Um, who said that- ANYWAYS! Javier is probably the second biggest, in joint place with Oberyn, definitely about 7-7.5 inches, as he’s nicknamed by moi, the Pussy Slayer of Medellin. It goes without saying that Javier is rough, as we’ve seen, side note: I don’t know why I thought watching Narcos with my family would be a good idea… I was sat on the couch like “😀 okay, I’m watching Pedro have sex next to my mum, just a normal Saturday morning…” anyways back to it (hehe Negan reference) but Javier is rough, doggy and cowgirl are his favourite positions, but sometimes when he’s feeling a little somber he likes a little missionary. As how domestically-kinky I like my men, I’m a little disappointed that Javier isn’t a committed man, but he does have a tiny 🤏 breeding kink, he defo isn’t a fan of being called daddy, in fact just call him Javi and he’s yours, and he’s dom obviously. “Oh carino, you take my cock so well, you good little whore… fuck… my sweet little angel.” I mean, we’ve all seen his hair, so do we really need address it, that also might genuinely be my fav sex scene in all of cinema history.
Oberyn Martell
Okay, admittedly, I haven’t seen any proper scenes of Oberyn, because I’ve just started GOT, so I have no clue what his character is like apart from being a HUGE BISEXUAL SLUT, so he’s just like me 🤭
Oberyn, tying with Javier, is about 7-7.5 inches, and I feel like his cock is definitely a lot more tan than others, idk why, it’s just an instinct. Defo uncircumcised. His fav positions are definitely cowgirl OH and dude is the literal definition of a pillow prince, again, just like me. Suck his dick, please, just suck his dick. Again, I don’t know how he’s presented in GOT, but I’m like 74% sure he’s dominant? From the clips I’ve seen 🫣 Hair wise, do razors exists in the GOT world? Or does my man just shave himself with a sword.
Javi Gutierrez:
Oh my sweet baby Javi… he’s so kinky. I’m fully convinced he’s into full BDSM, not so much where he has to do it every single time, but maybe like once a month. When I was watching TUWOMT for the first time, when Nick is about to go into the room with all his merch and stuff, I was dead convinced it was gonna be a sex dungeon. There’s no way a man is this sweet and adorable without being into some freaky shit.
Anyway, Javi is about 6.5 inches, with a sweet pink tip and he’s definitely a giver not a taker, don’t get him wrong, he ADORES you with his dick in your mouth, but he prefers to eat you out/suck your dick for hours on end. Oh and he’s a sweet talker, when you guys aren’t being full kinky, he’ll praise you to hours on end, mumbling in your ear how good you are in that sexy accent of his. Is a little bit of a switch, but mostly dominant, soft dom if it’s a normal night but if it’s that special night, only your safe word will pull him out of hard dom space. Definitely the type to overstimulate you in a sweet way “you can take it right sweetheart? Mi amor~ just take my cock nice and good, ahí tienes.” Um, daddy kink for surely, but not like every single night like Joel. But when he’s between your legs, and he’s stimulated you so far into sub space, and you’re struggling to keep your eyes open, and you’re reaching up for him, babbling how good his cock feels in your hole, he can’t help but coo down at you and praise you so hard. He’s not bald, but his hair isn’t long, just trimmed to the point where it tickles your nose when you suck his cock.
Din Djarin
Okay, so I think it’s canon that Din hasn’t really ever felt human touch, so I feel he’s really inexperienced… but the dude’s got a pretty dick. Like it’s just so… pretty. About 6 inches with a sweet baby pink tip, he’s so sensitive too. He loves head but he really can’t say it, he’s just too embarrassed. I just get the vibe that he’s mostly subby. He tried to be dom once but the poor baby couldn’t handle it all. But then he tried again and he did so good, but it tired him out, so if he’s domming, which is once in a blue moon, he’s going to be soft, maybe even softer than Javi. Mommy/Daddy kink!! “Please, I’m good right? Please, please tell me I’m doing good… you always feel so so good, I love you so much.” Please, he’s so sweet I love him. It’s rare that you guys get off together because of reasons due to his upbringing and stuff so he just likes being taken care of, the sweet boy. Before you, he never really cared for shaving, so when you first strip together, he’s a little nervous about it, and then after that he trims it, quite short.
Marcus Moreno
If anyone says this man is a hard dom they’re just kidding themselves, this man is the sweetest man out there, obviously not as much as Din ofc <3.
Marcus has an obsession with using his hands, making you cum just by fingering you. Then when he’s inside you, he slips his fingers into your mouth, or around your neck, or on your cheek. His dick is about 7 inches, and like everyone else, knows how to use it perfectly. Angel is one of his favourite nicknames to call you. “My perfect Angel, taking my cock so good baby…” whilst hes thrusting into you ever so gently. Would never EVER do it when Missy is around, so quickies before picking Missy up from school are his go to, but he loves the days where his mom can take her out for the day or even a grandma sleepover so he can be with you for hours. You under him, over him, him inside you, his good girl/boy, his good angel. Pleasuring you until you get numb. The armpit hair in the scene of the gif gets me and idk why, I have never had a thing for armpit hair but maybe I’m just really horny, but his hair down there is nice and trimmed, not bald, never bald.
Tim Rock(Hard)Ford
Here we go…
Oh Tim man! I have a teensy 🤏 detective kink so when Pedro played this role it was over for me.
Maybe it’s the greying, like Joel, but I feel like he’s huge, just like Joel. He’s 8 inches, living his best life. But he’s just a tired old man, so when he gets home, please just get on your knees for him, he’ll just lay there, stroking your hair, praising you, telling you how good you suck his cock. Then he’ll bring you up to the bed and return the favour, making sure to always get you to tell him about your day as he does so. Saturday nights are always his favourite time to rail into you, he’s had the whole day off, just resting, watching you walk around, getting him so worked up. He has a domestic kink. So seeing you do chores get him so hard. Loves fucking between your thighs when you’re sleeping because he gets home so late and just needs a little relief, but you look so cute and peaceful while you sleep and because he’s so considerate, he doesn’t wanna wake you. “So good for me baby, so good for daddy, gonna fill you up, you’re not gonna let any of my cum slip out right, gonna keep it all in your tummy, yeah, that’s it, cum for me.” TALKS YOU THROUGH IT!!! Sleeps naked. Not trimmed, not shaved, just grows it out, he’s old so he doesn’t care, it’s not like anyone but you would be seeing him like this anyways.
Dieter Bravo
I love Dieter, he’s so cute.
Not dom, but not sub either, just dom enough to see you break under him but sub enough to whimper and get soooo desperate. Such a huge pillow prince, he loves it when you suck him, especially when you grab his balls and caress them, he cums so quick when that happens. He’s about 6.5 inches, and it loves fast, not as in quickie, but he loves seeing you fall apart as he jackhammers into your hole. When you ride him he gets so sweet, and he can last long, don’t worry, but you just look so pretty on top of him, he can’t help it, please don’t be mad at him. Has a thing for dry humping, especially in the morning when he’s too lazy to move properly. “So good baby, oh yeah, fuck, grind against me just like that, mmmf fuck…” loves to beg and watch you beg, he’s so good to and for you, don’t doubt him ever. He doesn’t shave, he trims it, but he’s so goofy, so once he shaved it into a heart.
#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal smut#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#javier peña#javier pena x reader#javier pena smut#javi gutierrez#oberyn martell#din djarin#marcus moreno#tim rockford#dieter bravo#slvtforoldermen
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What are the races in your under garden comic? And how did you come up with them?
Oh oh oh juicy question
We're still exploring what "races" we have, how mixed they can get, etc etc, but I love yapping about this so I'll give a bit of a TL:DR
The Under Garden started off with me and my cowriter having a couple of DnD characters we got very attached to and didn't want to dispose, so the "basis" for their races was attached to DnD somewhat - namely drow and tiefling
HOWEVER when we decided to make it its own world we basically broke off with that and decided to, for starters, have a basic "elf" like race for humanoids. The range is basically any vaguely human creature with pointy ears, and then other physical attributes might determine where they're from but wouldn't exactly count as a whole separate thing.
When we worked out some of the large scale history of the world, we decided as well that the people we first interact with, with skin in shades of purple/blue and hair in shades of silver, would have been dominant at some point, then driven to seclusion in small pockets of the world. Meaning that if someone were to look vaguely.. "drowish" I suppose, they'd be linked to this ancient powerful people and the few places they're known to still exist in. They've got the longest lifespan (~250 years) and are also more intertwined with the high level magic system in this world.
For example:
From here we sort of made room for types of elf we haven't pinned down yet, and will probably parallel anything from bluer "sea" elves to stockier more dwarf-like people, and for all intended purposes even if someone just looks like a human they're a flavour of elf. For example:
And again, the further you go from the silver hair - purpleish skin combo the less connection you have to the OG magic dwellers. There's more nuance to the magic system but that's the gist of it.
ASIDE FROM ELVES HOWEVER we now get into what we decided to do with the "tiefling" side of it. The thought process here was funny because we had a character inspired by a cyborg but no way to have actual cyborg shit justified in this world without an extra layer of complication. So I was like yo what if he's like a bug instead. Exoskeleton vibes n all. So then we decided fuck it out more wack looking people will be mostly inspired by bugs. Within them you DO have a bigger variety of "races", lifespans, physiologies, etc, and there's a lot of room for us to wiggle. They're generally non magical and can cross breed with elves so bugness is also a spectrum.
Some bugs:
Some bug hybrids:
Basically anything with a weird number of limbs, eyes, odd scleras, exoskeletons, wings, etc is some flavour of bug or bug hybrid. They tend to be as far removed from magic as possible.
Obviously there's a bunch of more and lesser known types of bugs and the sheer diversity makes for some interesting worldbuilding questions and dynamics but as a whole it's a work in progress
*takes a bow*
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Windenmere Equestrian Estate 🗝️
Nestled in the misty countryside of Windenburg, Windenmere Equestrian Estate is a stately manor that has stood the test of time, watching over its expansive fields and pastures for centuries. Built during an era of prosperity, this ancestral home once bustled with the life and spirit of the Windenmere family, who earned their wealth through a thriving horse-breeding empire. Known for producing some of the finest thoroughbreds in the region, the estate became legendary, woven into the fabric of Windenburg’s equestrian legacy.
The estate’s architecture boasts a blend of Tudor and Gothic Revival that reflects its noble heritage. Grand stone walls, softened by creeping ivy and moss, hint at the manor’s age, while arched windows and leaded glass panes cast a dappled light into the stately interior. Upon entering, one steps into a world untouched by time. The grand foyer features polished marble floors, framed by intricate woodwork that speaks to the craftsmanship of a bygone era. Elaborate tapestries and portraits of past Windenmere family members and their prized horses hang along the corridors, creating a silent gallery of the estate’s illustrious history.
The heart of Windenmere is its equestrian grounds, where generations of horses have been bred, trained, and celebrated. Stables constructed with the finest oak stand beside an aged, but well-kept, riding arena, and beyond lies the estate’s private trails that wind through ancient oaks and rolling hills. Even the air here seems steeped in memory, carrying the faint sounds of galloping hooves and distant echoes of past triumphs.
Today, Windenmere Equestrian Estate stands as a living tribute to the Windenmere family’s legacy, preserving their passion for horses and their place in Windenburg’s storied past. It is a place where time seems to pause, inviting those who enter to step back and experience the elegance, tradition, and quiet strength of this historic home.
Forged in tradition, crafted for champions. . .⚜️
Available for download on the gallery! :)
Gallery ID | briannaasims
No CC build
§168,468
Residential Lot
4 bed, 4 bath
64 x 64
⚲ Von-Windenburg Estate
Packs Used: Base Game, Horse Ranch, Growing Together, Cottage Living, Snowy Escape, Island Living, Get Famous, Cats & Dogs, Get Together, My Wedding Stories, Realm of Magic, StrangerVille, Jungle Adventure, Vampires, and Romantic Garden
#sims 4#coastal cowplant#simblr#the sims 4#sims build no cc#no cc build#show us your builds#sims 4 build#the sims community#the sims build#sims build#sims 4 windenburg#windenburg#no cc lot#ts4 nocc#the sims 4 simblr#ts4 simbrl#ts4 simblr#ts4#sims4#the sims#no cc#sims 4 screenshots#the sims screenshots#sims#ts4 screenshots#coastal cowplant builds
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Predator Prey
✨️Kink Education with Elizabeth✨️
If you are into scratching, biting, grunting, and growling, you may have a Primal Play kink.
Primal play, also known as Predator/prey, is a dynamic between a sub and dom that typically involves the dom hunting down the sub before intercourse. A lot of people mix this with pet/animal play, but they are different. Pet/animal play involves at least one party dehumanizing themselves and taking the role of an animal. Primal play does not involve that.
Primal play finds its roots before we began civilized, and before sex began being seen as a sin as pushed by religion and church. Primal play is a way to revert back to that animalistic instinct of survival by letting us play with our basic needs, aka: breeding, food, and self-protection.
Predator prey is known for being a rougher form of play as well, the sex is a little more demanding, its rough, and it typically can cause the dom to leave a little more satisfied than the sub, especially when following traditional instinct and roles (sorry ladies.) It is an important for this play type to really focus on prediscussed consent and safe word communication.
Primal play also typically involves a struggle between the parties for dominance, something this fic does skip over because while I see Eris enjoying the hunt, I can't see him enjoying his mate struggling below him, even if it is consensual, due to his family history. I apologize. I skipped that aspect, but you all may have noticed the absolute Crackship I have another predator prey set up for. That couples going to go down swinging no matter how I write that dynamic.
💕Peep the Valentines Day List here💕
As always, NSFW below the cut
Eris Vanserra x Reader
Warnings - chasing, rough smut no traditional foreplay, p in v, slight hints of dirty talk, biting.
You shouldn't have been in the woods this late. You knew it was dangerous and that the trees themselves were awake and alerting any waiting predators that an unarmed female was walking alone through them.
After hours of dealing with your father in law, you had just wanted a few moments alone and made the choice to walk to the cabin you shared with Eris instead of winnowing.
That had been a mistake. Despite being in a seasonal court, day and night still shifted with the rest of the world, and golden rays of light gave in to star patterned darkness much too fast for comfort. You huddled your hood tighter, ignoring the bite of the autumn chill, and kept walking.
“Well, well, well,” the snap of a branch made you jump, heart beating faster as you froze. “What do we have here? A pretty mouse all by herself?”
You spun quickly, eyes wide as your husband approached with 3 hounds flanking him and growling. “Eris-” he shot you a look, silencing you.
“What you're going to do, little mouse, is run. You are going to turn and run and hope I don't catch you.” He took a step toward you, one you mirrored by stepping back. “Because if I catch you, I fuck you, and that would be mercy compared to what lurks in these woods just begging to get their teeth into you.”
He took another step, a bigger one causing you to stare straight at his chest until you looked up. He kissed you gently, the only gentle thing you knew you would get tonight before sliding one of his hounds training toys into the pocket of your cloak. “Run.”
You knew from the moment you accepted the bond, Eris was a bit of a sadist. But you also knew the first time that curtain dropped and your husband chained you to a wall, spanking you until your legs gave out, that you were a masochist. His mistake was calling you a mouse, though. You knew Eris had no understanding of how intelligent mice were. Mice were natural students, learning and adapting to their environment and tricks.
And you? You had learned.
You ran finding a large tree to abandon the cloak on before winnowing about 15 feet away, taking the training toy with you. You watched as Orion, Astrid, and Nova sat at the tree, looking up at Eris, then back to the cloak. Orion whined loudly, nudging the fabric as Eris growled.
Those hounds would never hurt you. Those hounds were chasing you for fun. And you had spoiled it. You cracked a branch on purpose, smiling and laughing as Nova perked back up, then began running towards where you had taken off from.
“Cheap tricks won't help you, mouse!” The dark laughter in his voice has your core tightening. You ran faster, heading near the direction of the cabin enough that he wouldn't think anything of it.
You were actually aiming for the lake nearby, though. Wanting him to fuck you under the full moon and all of her stars. Wanting to feel him pressing you into the dirt.
Eris caught your right as you reached it, a soft laugh as he did, and he took you rolling into the dirt and grass. Settling on top of you, Eris smirked. “This isn't home, mouse.”
You tossed the toy, listening as the hound Cheerfully began playing. Submission was setting in, creeping through your bones like an old ache. “No, sir.”
His warm hand came, holding your throat. “If you wanted to be fucked like an animal, y/n, you just had to ask.” You moaned at the words, at him seeing through you. He got up, forcing you on to your stomach, and began ripping the dress you were wearing. He placed a hand back on your neck, holding you down and leaning into you, whispering in your ear. “Do animals get prepared, mouse? Remind me.”
“No, sir,” it came out as more of a whimper than a sentence, a moan leaving your throat soon after. Eris wad grinding himself against you, cock straining heavily in his pants.
Eris was inside of you mere moments later, heavy cock stretching you open with a delicious burn. He was growling above you, rutting into you over and over while you wiggled and whimpered below him.
Nights like this, nights where sex was a mesh of teeth, of bruises, of thrusts so deep you could feel every inch of him lighting you on fire, normally meant Eris had a long day, a day where he felt no control, no joy. A day where he felt belittled.
Sex like this wasn't about you, and if you came, it was a reward. Sex like this was about Eris. You knew when he calmed down after this, when he would eventually carry you to the cabin, he'd take his time making love to you there until you were no more than a soaked mess below him, body pliant and spent from countless orgasms.
You whimpered as the thrusts grew harder, pushing you into the grass as your nails dug into the soft earth. Eris's growls were becoming louder, an occasional groan thrown in as he took you wildly with no regard for your body.
You were dripping for him, panting his name between wails of pleasure and soft cries of need. You loved sex like this, loved when he held you down, when he allowed you to make him work for it. To make him hunt you down.
You felt the first twitch of his cock, clenching around him in response and smiled into the ground. “All mine,” he grunted above you. “You are all mine, do you hear me?” His mouth came to your neck, licking and sucking your pulse point.
“Gonna fuck you until you don't even know your own name.” It was a promise, a zap engraving itself on your skin as he held your hand. He chuckled darkly again, your mind melting into those soft kisses contrasting against each sharp movement inside of you.
His breathing was becoming as labored as your own, his groans becoming more and more frenzied and desperate. “Cum inside me, Eris. Mark me as yours,” his grip on your hip became impossibly tight.
One more thrust had your walls tightening around him.
Another had you screaming his name as teeth sunk into your pulse point, bruising and marking that tender flesh.
The last had you babbling, moaning, and whining as you were violently thrown from the edge, squeezing and clenching around him over, over, and over again until he was spilling into you, filling you as he groaned and lapped away the blood he drew.
You both calmed, you still wiggling below him as a few last sloppy rolls of his hips worked to drive you into over stimulation.
Eris peppered soft kisses along your jawline, up to your temple, into your hair. “You okay?”
“Again.” He smiled into you, leaning to kiss you deeply.
“When we get home, after you eat and bathe, I will make all your sick dreams come true, mouse. I promise."
General Taglist -
@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho
@mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium
Valentines Day Taglist -
@sfhsgrad-blog @amara-moonlight @eternallyelvish @novaksangel @teenageeggscissorslawyer @thisblogisaboutabook @amygdtjhddzvb
@justasillylittlegoofyguy @avajustreads
@littlestw01f @azriels-shadowsinger @acourtofladydeath
#acotar#acotar x reader#eris vanserra#eris x reader#eris x you#eris x y/n#eris smut#eris acotar#eris acosf#eris fic#eris vanserra fic#eris vanserra x y/n#eris vanserra smut#eris vanserra x you#eris vanserra x reader#eris vandaddy#eris vanserra acotar
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I love soft Haarlep and I do love your parent!Haarlep stuff but I can't help but wonder about the angst that would come from Soft!Haarlep realizing that Tav is pregnant with their child, ie a cambion (DND lore states cambion births that stem from a human mother x devil/incubus/etc always results in the mother's death).
₊˚⊹♡ ɪ ᴄᴀɴ’ᴛ ᴛᴇʟʟ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴏᴡ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ɪ ʟᴏᴠᴇᴅ ᴛʜɪꜱ. ɪ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜱᴄᴇɴᴀʀɪᴏ ꜱᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴏʀʀɪꜰɪᴄ ᴏᴜᴛᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴘᴏᴛᴇɴᴛɪᴀʟʟʏ ʜᴀᴘᴘᴇɴ. ᴏʀ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴀ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴏᴜᴛᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ʜᴀᴀʀʟᴇᴘ ɪꜱ ʀᴇʟɪᴇᴠᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴅᴏᴠᴇ ɪꜱ ᴏᴋᴀʏ.
⋆˙⟡♡ Angst | Pregnancy | Soft Haarlep ♡
Haarlep’s usual guise of cruelty softened into something almost human as they watched you sleep, your chest rising and falling with the innocent rhythm of peaceful slumber. Oblivious to Haarlep’s unexpected worry. The incubus was always known for their merciless nature, feasting upon souls and taking whatever it is they wished without a care for the other’s wellbeing… But you… You were different.
Haarlep’s gaze drifted, lingering on the delicate features of your face before trailing down to your still flat abdomen. Inside you, unbeknownst to you, a new life was taking root. A life that Haarlep could sense with a clarity that cursed their very being...
Haarlep had always threatened to breed you, to knock you up with their demon spawn to show all of hell and Faerun that you belonged to them, once enslaved incubus, a lowly creature…
Closing their eyes, Haarlep realizes their very nature had gotten the best of them. That their very threat had come to fruition and with each beat of your heart, a silent countdown to your demise had begun…
The knowledge was a blade to Haarlep’s darkened heart. Incubi, like them, were no strangers to the fatal toll their offspring could exact on mortal lovers. History whispered of rare survivals, like Tasha the witch queen, who bore the children of Grazzt and lived to tell the tale. But you were not her. You were just some adventurer, who had gotten tangled with Raphael, which led you inadvertently into Haarlep’s embrace.
If this spawn was anything like a full blooded incubus, your mortal body would have trouble handling such a pregnancy. You could very well die trying to bring it into this world… If you even carried the spawn long enough for that to become an issue. The youngling may take you by surprise in the night and tear through you, feasting upon your very soul as it left your body.
With a heavy breath, Haarlep’s lashes fluttered back open as they placed their large hand gently on your stomach. They could only stare at it as memories flooded their mind of when you whispered dreams of carrying their offspring, begging for their threats of breeding to come true, wishing to feel your own belly swollen with a little mini Haarlep... You had smiled so brightly then… A smile they wished to keep to themselves… Haarlep wondered if that would be the last time they would ever see such a sight… Their favorite treat, always eager for a taste of the them… Always so loyal to them…
The incubus’s eyes began to harden…
A deep growl rumbled from within Haarlep, the sound echoing around the room as they thought of all the ways this could go horribly wrong. All the ways your precious mortal life could end.
The growing soul within you had to go. It must.
You were theirs. You were not supposed to be taken away from them…
They couldn't lose you.
Not you.
As they leaned down and pressed their lips against your stomach. It was a kiss, tender and loving, so out of place from their usual rough manner. Haarlep lingered there, lips brushing against the warm skin, feeling the flutter of your heartbeat underneath the softness of your flesh.
You were theirs.
Not Raphael's, not any other fiend or demon who thought they could get a claim on you.
Just Haarlep's.
Kelemvor, death itself, wouldn’t have you... Haarlep would seize the offspring, tearing it from your flesh with merciless hands if necessary…
#bg3#baldurs gate 3#raphael bg3#haarlep#haarlep x tav#haarlep bg3#haarlep x reader#raphael the cambion#bg3 Raphael
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More complete list of ways that websites and books about gardening shamelessly misinform and confuse people
Using any combination of cultivar names, species names, genus names, and common names to refer to plants, leaving well-intentioned gardening noobs fighting for their lives in a lawless wasteland. Just look at this Better Homes and Gardens article on salvia.
Salvia is a genus of plants containing hundreds of species, including culinary sage, rosemary, and many species used as ornamentals. The Better Homes and Gardens list ruthlessly mixes common names for sage species with cultivar names, without giving the binomial Latin species name at all for a single one...
...and refers to two totally different plants only as "purple sage" in the same listicle
On that note, acting like "variety" is just as important as, or interchangeable with, "species." Just read an article that said "some varieties of this plant can be invasive, so make sure to check which ones are prohibited in your area!" No. NO. No specific cultivar of an invasive plant species is going to be non-invasive. In fact, introducing new cultivars of an invasive plant will make the invasive species problem WORSE because that's new genetic material. 'Bradford' pears are invasive in the US, 'Cleveland' pears are also invasive, because they're BOTH PYRUS CALLERYANA, but the website you're buying them off of doesn't SAY that, AUGHH
Referring to plants that are enthusiastic or aggressive growers as 'invasive.' I falsely believed so many native species were invasive simply because some dumbass article decided to call them "invasive" for the crime of being able to grow in a lawn. The same websites will turn around and say that a 100% virulent invasive species "can become aggressive in some gardens" WHSFDHHKKK???
Gardening books describing a gorgeous native flower that doesn't die instantly when you think a negative thought about it: "Invasive. Evil. Kill on sight." Gardening books describing one of the worst known invasive plant species in human history that's decimating ecosystems as we speak: "This plant can be a teensy weensy bit vigorous."
totally failing to explore what it means for a cultivar of a plant to be "sterile." Here's the thing. The 'Bradford' pear was supposed to be sterile, but it was not, the cultivar was just made up of clones of the same plant, and most plants can't fertilize themselves. When another cultivar of Pyrus calleryana is planted close to it, such as the 'Cleveland' pear, surprise surprise, THEY AREN'T STERILE.
IIRC it is possible to produce truly sterile cultivars by breeding a plant that can't make seeds/fruits and cloning those plants by vegetative propagation. A cultivar of cloned, genetically identical plants with completely unchanged reproductive ability is NOT STERILE, it is just banking on no other cultivars of the plant ever existing nearby. Which is deeply stupid.
Yes, "cultivars" (the names in single quotation marks next to the name of the plant in a nursery label) are generally just groups of clones of the same founding individual. I'm not a fan of cultivars because they're basically Petri dishes for breeding disease. E.g. The Emerald ash borer was able to so thoroughly decimate ash trees in the USA partly because the gene pool of planted ash trees in American cities was 2-3 individual trees big. Now ornamental boxwoods seem to be dying off en masse in my area, and the reasons are probably similar.
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